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#she was just making snacks for the scarlets
lunatic-lunarian · 1 month
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Dirty work
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azrielwingspan · 2 months
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A 'TEA' PARTY (AZRIEL X READER)
Summary : The prince of Montesere was a heartthrob with his exceptionally good looks and charismatic words. You were raving about him to the girls but Azriel was having none of it.
Warnings : Nooone
A/N: You guys have no idea how EXCITED I was to write this. This is definitely one of my favourites. Enjoy !
"And he said 'I'll make time for you. Always.' I DIED. LITERALLY DEAD DIED." You said waving your hands animatedly.
The girls oohed and aahed while clutching their drinks. Feyre pretended to swoon, Mor was holding a hand to her heart and Elain went starry eyed. Nesta remained stoic but you could see the hint of a smile gathering at the corner of her lips. You would bet a 100 marks that it was straight out of one of her romance books.
"What's going on ?" heads whipped to the door where Gwyn and Emerie stood holding more snacks.
"Just in time! Get over here. You guys are missing out on top secret information." Mor helped them out with the snacks, sharing a shy look with Emerie.
"The Prince of Montesere is what is going on." Nesta said, a sly smirk on her face.
"Ooo..I've heard he's quite the charmer." Gwyn piped in and everyone nodded their heads enthusiastically.
"We think he has a crush on Y/N." Elaine said making a stupid grin crawl onto your face.
"What the fuck? Details PLEASE." Emerie grabbed the bowl of popcorn placing it on her lap to share with Mor.
A rush of joy consumed you as you looked around the room. All the girls were finally taking some well deserved time off and you were glad that you could spend it with each other.
"Okay." leaning forward as you channeled your inner storyteller. "Sooo...let me just start off by saying he looks DIVINE. Dark hair, dark eyes and don't even get me started on his voice...UGH. I think my ovaries might have exploded."
"Wait hold on." Feyre carried a confused look on her face. "Are we talking about the Prince or our shadowsinger?"
Silence engulfed the room.
Someone snorted and the entire room descended into laughter. Your face heated up. From embarrassment or from laughing you weren't sure of.
"She definitely has a type alright." Nesta said setting off a new round of laughter.
"OKAY LISTEN IN MY DEFENSE---" you shouted over the chaos.
"Don't even try." Mor was clutching her stomach, slightly wincing at the pain.
"OKAY SHUSH. Y/N CONTINUE !" Gwyn came to the rescue and you shot her a grateful smile.
"Anyways as I was saying.." you shot a pointed look at the girls daring them to say something. All of them had shit eating grins on their face.
Emerie and Mor had already finished half the popcorn.
"He showed me around the city and took me to all his favorite spots. It was very---"
"Did you make out?" Emerie interrupted and the girls leaned forward their eyes twinkling in anticipation.
You were about to respond but your face had already betrayed you , turning a scarlet red. Elaine and Mor squealed , almost falling off their seats. Feyre had a wide eyed expression on her face, her drink long forgotten.
"You should have STARTED with that, you idiot !" Emerie shouted, an incredulous look on her face.
"OKAY SHUSH. The most important question. How was it?" Gwyn made everyone settle down again as she awaited your answer.
You'd just opened your mouth to respond when Nesta asked "How big?"
Spluttering in shock, you smacked Nesta's arm. "I didn't sleep with him!" You hissed in a whisper. "We just made out. He is a really good kisser. I'll give him that."
"Tell me what this male is bad at. Why aren't you with him already?" Elain asked taking a sip of her tea.
"Honestly, he's too good to be true but.."
"He isn't a certain someone." Feyre finished for you, eyes softening in understanding. You'd never told the girls about your infatuation with Azriel but they knew. Somehow, they just knew.
You didn't bother denying it and just shrugged nonchalantly. A wave of understanding passed through the room. Almost everyone had been in a similar position before. Sometimes your soul craved another's so violently, it made you blind to anyone else.
"Well..it was fun while it lasted." you said breaking the silence.
"For two days." Emerie laughed softly.
"You should tell Az---" Mor was interrupted by the opening of the door. Seven pairs of eyes focused on Azriel as he stood at the door , looking sheepish.
"Look who's hereeee." Feyre said playfully, a blush rising on Azriels cheeks as he bowed his head.
"Rhys wanted me to grab a book." he muttered softly, edging towards the wall and trying to ignore the six pairs of eyes with a mischievous twinkle in their eyes.
You were just utterly mortified. Did he hear everything?
I put up a sound barrier. Wouldn't want the Illyrian babies snooping around. Feyre's voice echoed in your mind.
You shot her a grateful smile which immediately fell as she shot you a wink. Oh no. She was upto something.
"Az, tell Rhys I'll be there as soon as Y/N finishes telling us about her Prince."
Both you and Azriel stiffened, his back still facing you. Emerie dissolved into a fit of laughter that she was trying to hide behind her palm. Nesta's eyes twinkled at the prospect of messing with Azriel.
"I can't believe you're going to be a princess, Y/N !" Elain played along. You swiped a hand across your throat repeatedly, indicating at them to cut it off.
"He basically professed his love to you already. I don't know what you're waiting for." Nesta said looking like she was ready to plan the imaginary wedding if she had to.
Azriels shadows were growing a little agitated, rapidly bouncing off bookshelves trying to find the damned book.
"If he had wings, I'm sure he would have the biggest---" Mor cut off , finishing her sentence by widening her eyes and looking down.
Emerie choked on her tea, making it go up her nose. Mor rapidly hit her on the back trying to help and stop laughing at the same time. In her urgency to move, she'd knocked over the tea pot spilling hot tea over Gwyn's leggings.
Gwyn stumbled out of her seat fanning her hands at her legs like it would help. Elain grabbed the jug of water and threw it on Gwyn's leggings soaking the carpet beneath her. Feyre who had been about to fill a glass with water for Emerie stared at her empty hand where the jug had been.
Nesta watched the entire scene unfold before her eyes with mild interest , sipping on her tea.
You just stared, absolutely and completely horrified by the turn of events.
A tendril of shadow made its way over to you and tucked a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes behind your ear. You shivered from the sudden coolness and turned your head towards Azriel.
Wearing a cool mask of indifference, he walked out of the room pretending like nothing ever happened.
A/N: AHHHH, this entire thing made me feel some type of way.
Please take a min to leave a comment and let me know if you liked it as much as I did !!
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aliceramblez · 3 months
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Dating The BB League Elite Four + Kieran 💕
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Tags: GN! Reader, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Teal Mask & Indigo Disk Spoilers!
A/N: After finally getting dragged into the Pokémon rabbit hole, I honestly couldn't resist in doing one of these for my babies! Scarlet/Violet is my very first Pokémon experience, so hopefully I did these characters justice ^^
Feel free to follow my main @taruchinator & leave a request for future HCs!
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Crispin 🔥
He's such a dork and incredibly quirky but don't you worry, he'll definitely be the one to ask you out first, no matter how many attempts it takes. Not like you'd say no to begin with.
As a partner, he's the kind of guy who would always try to cheer you up and have you in a happy mood, because when you're happy, he's happy! Anything from compliments, to jokes, to just giving you lots of affection.
Which brings us to the fact that he's huge on PDA. And the funny thing is he doesn't even realize he's doing it—he'll lean on you when you're showing him something in your Rotom Phone, rubbing circles on your palm when you're talking about your day, placing his chin on your shoulder while talking to the other club members—this man is all over you.
During your stay at Blueberry Academy, don't you dare spend your precious money on the cafeteria, he's got you covered. He'll ask you and learn about your tastes, creating new recipes and concoctions just for you, hoping to surprise you with something better and nutritious every day!
If you had a long day of training and doing BBQs, Crispin always comes by and makes sure you had a meal. And you better not be lying to him.
“Man, you've been out all day! Did you even have lunch?”
“.... I had a granola bar.”
“HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?”
It's safe to say that Koraidon/Miraidon adores him, and even makes you question whether it's you or your Pokémon who's dating him.
After you started going out, Crispin now makes sure to carry sandwiches with him at all times. Mostly for your oversized lizard boy, but also for you in case you need a quick snack to recharge. The legendary Pokémon is quick to thank him with licks and constant slobbering which always leaves the red-head a mess, but he tries to not let it bother him for your sake.
Whenever you guys aren't training, you'll be in your dorm rooms cooking and having laughs with your Pokémon over how clumsy they can be in the kitchen.
Overall, a sweet and supportive goofball who'll make sure you're always smiling and never have an empty stomach!
Amarys 👓
Obviously Amarys isn't the best at conveying her emotions. It doesn't mean she doesn't care, she just has a hard time figuring them out sometimes! Which is why it's incredibly strange to her when she starts having these weird sensations whenever she's around you.
She feels happier, her stomach gets all jumbled when you compliment her, and her minds always finds a way to drift back to you no matter what she's doing.
She ends up asking Carmine about it, who immediately gets all giddy and explains to her that she might have a crush. Amarys is surprised, but not against the idea. It makes sense in retrospect—cue bestie Carmine giving her pointers and ideas to try and confess to you.
Unfortunately it's all a bit too convoluted or cheesy for the Steel-Type user's liking, so she ends up doing it her own way.
One day after club activities are over, she asks if you can stay a bit longer to talk. “After much deliberation, it would seem that I have caught romantic feelings for you. I propose a casual outing so we can discuss these in further detail. Do you agree?”
It doesn't take long for you two to start going out.
Amarys shows affection through small gestures that may not seem like a lot to others, but you know they're huge steps for her. Sharing her food when you're hungry, giving you advice on how to raise your Pokémon properly, helping you study subjects you aren't that good at—the list goes on.
PDA isn't her strong suit at all. Physical affection in general isn't something she's used to, and she's forever grateful that you don't push her to do things out of her comfort zone. She tries though, and will do things like brush her hand against yours or even give you a hug whenever she's feeling bold.
To an outsider you're both an unconventional couple, but manage to make it work with trust and constant communication. Give her some time and she'll warm up to you.
Lacey 🧚‍♀️
A sweet cutie who doesn't really change her attitude towards you even after you start dating, since she's always loved having you around. The two of you also confess at the same time, which leaves you as a pair of giggling messes at the irony of it.
Is your number one cheerleader when it comes to school academics. You may not be an official Blueberry student, but that doesn't mean you should be slacking in your classes! If you don't understand the material, don't you worry, she's already prepared a slideshow presentation going over it point by point. Will also reward you with kisses if you pay attention!
Lacey isn't huge on PDA either since she thinks it's unnecessary, but when it's just the two of you, she will never let go. You have successfully replaced Granbull as her favorite pillow of choice, since whenever you two have time off and she's tired, you'll probably take a snooze under a tree in the Coastal Biome.
When you get to meet her father, she's actually a bit nervous since she's never thought of dating before finishing school, but you try and be brave and reassure her that you'll try your best to give a good impression. He thinks you're alright, but gives you the good old father talk to make sure you won't hurt his little girl.
Will find ways to dot your Legendary lizard ride with gifts and affection since she thinks he's just too darn stinking cute, but don't worry, she still thinks you're the cutest!
Since Lacey's constantly worrying about things getting done around the League Club, it's your duty as her partner to get her to relax from time to time. You'll do your best by offering to share responsibilities and reminding her that breaks are very much needed.
“Sweetie it's nighttime, you can finish in the morning. I'm tired and need cuddleeeess.”
“Just one more page and I'll be done—”
“Please Ms. Lacey! I need your cuteness to have a good night's sleep!”
“F-Fine, I'm coming! Flattering me to get what you want is just not right, ya know?”
Truly an iconic duo.
Drayton 🐉
Let's get one thing straight: this man doesn't confess—heck, he doesn't even ask you out! One day he just has his arms around you and plants a kiss on your cheek claiming that he'll follow your every command, all with a cheeky grin on his face. You're more than welcome to punch him for it and he'll still come crawling back.
Like most things in his life, Drayton takes your relationship slow and steady, not really wanting to push your boundaries (unless he wants to tease you) and having no rush to progress things. He's just a chill guy who wants to claim you before anyone else does.
Don't be mistaken though, this doesn't mean he doesn't care. You'd be surprised how much he looks out for you, almost borderline overprotective in some cases. After everything that happened with Terapagos in Area Zero, he's constantly making sure you have strong Pokémon, supplies, and good company to survive the crazy adventures you get mixed up in.
You guys' ideal date is spending time together in the dorms after school hours, kicking back and relaxing with a movie or just talking about stuff that happened during the day. He's surprisingly a very good listener.
It's from these laid back conversations that he gets ideas for random gifts to get you. Did you need a new pair of gloves cause the old ones ripped? Some are waiting in the club room. You're running low on potions? A box full of them appears on your doorstep. Want to visit your friends in Paldea but can't find the time? Turns out Drayton took over your assignments for the day so you're free to go!
You're also the only person he'll allow himself to be tutored by. Will literally not listen to anyone unless it's you. Which is why you try to make sure the material is easy for him to digest + it's not boring typical schoolwork, but something he'll actually enjoy.
“Okay! Today we're going over math! Let's have a battle in the Polar Biome so you can see how probability applies in critical hits and such.”
“Aww, my honey is catering to my needs? Aren't you the sweetest thing?”
“No kisses until we're done, Drayton.”
“Alright, aye aye boss!”
He's an idiot, but he's your idiot.
Kieran 🍎
This boy has had a crush on you ever since you first met in Kitakami, but never had the courage to say anything since he was so shy. Now however, he doesn't say anything because he feels like he doesn't have the right to.
After everything he's put you through—from accusing you of stealing Ogerpon, to fighting you in an all out battle, to straight up putting you and everyone else in danger just because he wanted a chance at getting a Legendary Pokémon—Kieran doesn't think he deserves to be your friend, let alone your partner.
Carmine is there as his wingwoman though, cheering him on and telling him how much you appreciate him and clearly return his feelings.
And so, mustering as much courage as he can, he asks if you'll trade Pokémon with him. When you agree, he brings out an Applin, which immediately leaves you blushing but also spreads a huge smile on your face. The two of you officially start dating.
Kieran does is absolute best to try and be the boyfriend you deserve, even though it's his first relationship and he has no idea what he's doing half the time. The members of the League Club are surprised at first, but ultimately support you guys all the way!
You spend time together sharing battle strategies and having your Pokémon playing to try and get along. Turns out Ogerpon and Hydrapple become fast friends by the end of a particular play date, much to your delight.
He's not good at PDA, like, at all. He's still that shy and timid kid from Kitakami underneath it all, so he struggles with initiating affection even when it's just the two of you. You're the one who has to start the hugs and kisses, leaving him like a puddle of goo under your grasp.
Nightmares still plague him occasionally, mostly revolving the journey to Area Zero and how it all could've turned out for the worst if by some chance Terapagos decided to attack someone else. Maybe even you. If you're with him when they happen, you'll hold him tight and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he calms down, or if he calls you to make sure you're okay, you'll stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep again.
“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...”
“It's okay Kieran. We're both okay, and that's all that matters.”
You two are the power couple that Blueberry Academy never expected, but deep down, you're just a pair of dorks who fawn over each other on a daily basis.
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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 7 months
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Sketch me down, see me through – pt. 2
Summary: A couple of days after the sketch, things got a bit more complicated than what you expected
Pairing: Astarion x Tav
Words: 4.4k
Warnings: mentions of blood/sex/abuse, bit of violence, Astarion is a bit of a bitch but what's new, physical touch as a love language, first kiss, fluff
A/N: Enjoy the second part of this Astarion fic, here you can find Part 1 <3 (i wanted to post this tomorrow but i don't know how to queue posts correctly so @tripleyeeet @yn-ymn-yln enjoy!)
\_/
The cold light of the moon woke you up. It had slithered into your tent, bathing your pillow —and thus your face— with its silvery shine. You turned around, trying to fall back into your warm slumber, but with no luck.
Your head started roaming, thinking too much about everything. About the last few days and the subtle changes in Astarion’s behavior, his lingering gazes and the tension that stiffened his body every time you happened to tug him playfully or accidentally bump into him.
It was confusing, to say the least; making you rethink everything and pondering twice on every word you said before even uttering it.
With an irritated sigh, you pulled yourself up, sitting on your blankets as you stretched your neck and sore muscles. With another groan, you put on your boots and then walked outside.
The fire had burnt out, leaving behind just a few glowing embers that were bound to soon become cold, lifeless ash. The air stung the bare skin of your arms, colder than what you expected. You soon got used to it, thankful to that chillness for waking you up. Apart from a couple of owls shrieking in the distance and the snoring coming from some of the tents surrounding you, the camp was calm, a small Eden…
A rustling of leaves broke the silence, followed by some muffled swearing. Before you could reach for the dagger in your boot, a figure stumbled out of the woods, barely keeping themselves up. After a couple of unbalanced steps, the silhouette managed to stop, taking a deep breath as he straightened up, passing his hands through his silver hair.
“Astarion?”
“Oh.”
The moment he noticed it was you in the shadows, Astarion quickly passed his hands on his shirt, brushing away the leaves and branches that had stuck on the fabric. Then his signature smile was back on his lips, his grin as smug as ever as he leaned against a nearby tree.
“Hello, darling.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“I was performing my duty and keeping watch.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he scanned you, his eyes moving slowly up and down your body. “What about you, sweetheart?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged, trying to ignore his piercing gaze. “Too many thoughts.”
“Ah, yes.” He nodded, his focus shifting to his fingers. “I am familiar with the notion.”
You watched closely as he picked his nails. What you first mistook for a nervous fidgeting revealed to be something different, a thorough cleaning that also had to do with the red streaks on his shirt —barely visible in the darkness— and those same scarlet hues that painted his fingers and the corners of his mouth.
You narrowed your eyes, putting both of your hands on your hips; in the same way your mother used to when she found out you had done something that was against her rules.
“Why were you lurking in the forest?”
He chuckled, showing the tip of his canines and his teeth, still blood stained. “Lurking… such an evil word. I’m almost flattered.”
Astarion looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to indulge him in his jokes the same way you often did since you had become… friends? Close acquaintances? Occasional lovers? The label on your relationship —if you could even call it that— seemed to change with every new dawn.
Whatever you two could be considered, you stared unimpressed at him with your hands glued to your hips.
“I was just having a midnight snack,” he explained with a shrug, his head tilting backwards against the tree but without ever leaving your eyes. “You can stop torturing that pretty brain of yours now.”
“I thought we had an agreement.” You took a step forward as you frowned in confusion. “I feed you so you can stay strong and defend us.”
Defend me.
“That was the deal,” you continued, ignoring those few words stuck in your throat.
“Indeed it was.”
Astarion was still looking at you, staring into your eyes as he always did —with a grin plastered to his face— but there was something different in them this time. A dark glimmer you had only seen when he was on the battlefield. The look he reserved only to his enemies.
Your entire body crumbled in confusion, your face losing its frown, your arms falling on your sides in defeat. “Then why didn’t you ask?”
You hated how your voice almost cracked at the end of that sentence. How small you felt, how desperate as you begged for an explanation, and all of this, because of that softness near the fire.
After that night and the sudden indifference that followed, you had wondered many times if you had misunderstood that look in his eyes. If that tenderness you felt in his touch had never been there in the first place but created by your delusional mind, always craving for something more. Something real.
Or worse, if he had faked it so well that you had fallen for it.
Astarion’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he moved from the tree and stepped in front of you. You cursed mentally when your breath caught in your throat.
“You were sleeping too peacefully for me to disturb you,” he murmured, taking your chin in his fingers. His nails grazed your skin but you bit down a yelp of discomfort.
“But I’m glad to see that you’re as eager to help as always.” With a flick of his wrist, Astarion hit the bottom of your chin. “That’s what I like about you.”
It didn’t hurt, you had endured much worse treatments in your lifetime, but you knew it was not meant to. Not physically at least. You felt the strike tear into your belittled pride, his condescending tone ripping through it like teeth in the flesh.
“You didn’t want to disturb my sleep,” you repeated, your voice almost trembling in anger.
He took a step back, his arms open as he shrugged with a smirk until his back met the bark of the tree once again. “That is what I said, darling.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Like that’s stopped you before.”
As you waited for a sassy retort that didn’t come, Astarion remained silent as he crossed his arms. His eyes wandered away from yours to the deeper and darkest parts of the forest where the light of the moon couldn’t get past the thick canopy. You couldn’t tell if his elven ears had sensed something you were physically incapable to, or if he was just ignoring you like he did the past few days.
Before you could stop it, your tadpole squirmed behind your eye, reaching for Astarion. Searching for answers he wasn’t willing to give you with his own mouth. You managed to get only a glimpse of that darkness behind his eyes —an anger that he was barely able to contain— before your conscience smacked against a wall.
At the same time, Astarion’s head snapped towards you. “Did you really try to slither into my mind?”
An irritated surprise dripped from his voice, but you caught the flash of betrayal that crossed his face.
“I’m sorry.”
You pressed your palms to your eyeballs, trying to get rid of the prickly sensation of blooming tears. You took that moment in the black void to put your thoughts back into place; to calm your racing heart and give some sense to the storm raging in your head. “I just want to understand what’s going on, if I did something-”
“Why do you even care if I feed on you or not?”
Another wave of confusion washed over you as your hands fell to your sides. “What?”
“It sure must be draining for you,” —with a smooth movement, he pushed himself away from the tree— “letting me drink your blood every other day. Yet you always come through.” He smiled, his teeth poking through his grin almost menacingly. “So zealous and happy to please.”
He started circling you, like a murder of crows over a carcass. A sense of unease started creeping up on you, sending shivers down your spine as you followed closely his movements. You didn’t think he wanted to kill you, but if he put his mind to it, he probably could.
“But the question remains…” He took a step towards you, close enough for you to smell the blood stuck on his clothes. You moved backwards, immediately hitting a tree in your way. Astarion stood in front of you, his eyes almost piercing your soul. “Why do you do it?”
“You said it yourself,” you said calmly even though the blood in your veins had never pumped so quickly, “you’re stronger when you drink-”
He chuckled, clapping once his hands together. “I fear my point is not really coming across, so I’ll rephrase my question. What do you gain from that?”
“I… I don’t think I-”
Your words were cut when Astarion’s hand wrapped around your neck. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin and waking up a desire that was entirely uncalled for while you stared into the eyes of a predator.
“Sex, darling.” His whisper ran down your spine, shaking you to your core. “That’s what you gain from it.”
Memories flowed in your brain and you couldn’t tell if it was you who brought them up or Astarion. The digging of teeth in your throat and the metallic scent of your own blood stuffing the air around hit you harder than a sledgehammer. You were back on the ground, pinned down between him and the dirt. His hands held you down as he drank, roaming over your clothes, unclasping buckles and grasping handful of flesh.
There was the aching between your legs and the release that followed when his undivided attention moved from your neck to the rest of your body. And above all else, the pleasure of being wanted.
“That was not in the deal.” You shook your head as much as you could while your neck was still in his grip. “It’s something between us and you also gain from it.”
“I gain nothing from it.”
His grip tightened around around your throat as he hissed in your face, his nails digging a little too deep into your skin. Your tadpole squirmed, anticipating a wave of disgust and shame that shook every nerve and cell in your brain. You squeezed your eyes, almost overwhelmed by the revulsion pouring into you.
“You started it.”
You still remembered the first time it happened, a week or two into your agreement. Slightly light-headed from the blood loss, when Astarion moved away from your neck it took you a second to realize that he hadn’t left. He was still there, looking down on you with blood still dripping from his mouth.
“I could ease your pain, if you want. Just this one time.” His hand accompanied his words, slowly gliding down your chest and along your thighs. “But you have to ask first.”
Then it happened again. And again. And again. And then there was not one time when he fed on you that he didn’t eat twice.
You swallowed the memory, your throat barely moving in his grip. “If you didn’t want it then why-”
“Manipulation, sweetheart!” Astarion widened his arms, posing dramatically and thankfully freeing your neck. “I saw an opportunity to bring you to my side and I took it. It was instinctive, really,” he continued with a shrug as you massaged your sore neck, “almost too easy creating a connection between pain and pleasure so you’d feed me willingly.”
A crease appeared between his eyebrows while his face crumpled in a pained expression. “It didn’t matter what it took to achieve it as long as it served me and my safety.”
Despite the fear still screaming inside, despite every survival instinct left in you, you stretched out your hand to him. Your fingertips brushed his bare forearm for a mere moment before he pulled away, his face distorted by an angry smile.
“But you have outplayed me.” He clapped slowly, loud enough for an animal nearby to scatter away in fear. “Bravo to you.”
You shook your head, even more lost than before. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you truly think me so foolish?”
His scream left his mouth like a curse, raw and jagged at the edges as his hand clenched his shirt right above his heart. The smug facade had crumbled, leaving behind a boiling anger that contorted his face. You heard more scattering in the forest: a rustling of leaves, flutters of wings, terrified chirps and squeaks as all the creatures in the surrounding area ran away.
Not you though. Immobile as the tree you were pressed against, you stood where you were, looking Astarion straight into his eyes as he pointed his finger to your face.
“You hide behind words of selflessness but you’re playing with me just as all the others before you. Always wanting,” he hissed, despair slowly filling his eyes as he lowered his hand and raised his chin, “always pushing for more.”
You clenched your jaw as the lump in your throat grew with every new arrow that Astarion aimed at your heart. “You’re painting me as someone I’m not.”
He scoffed again, as if your words were the mere whining of a spoiled kid. Taking another step closer to you, you could almost feel his anger blurring the air around him, its heat tingling on your skin.
“Then what was that? That desire next to the fire?” He tilted his head as his index moved up along your neck. “For a moment there, when I looked at the portrait you made, I thought you actually cared,” —his lips trembled with ache— “that I wasn’t just the pleasure I pushed you to want… but then I touched you and I saw it.” Astarion grabbed your chin tightly, making you impossible to look away. “That craving in your eyes.”
He leaned even closer, until your faces were barely apart.
“What did you want so badly?”
Finally all the pieces of the puzzle that you’d been gathering in the last few days finally snapped together. The blur in your head cleared and everything —or at least, most of it— started making sense once again. Sighing shakily your relief, your fingers slowly reached for the steel hand clawing to your chin
“I just wanted that,” you whispered as your fingertips brushed the pale skin of his hand. “That soft, kind touch.”
His muscles tensed under your touch, but this time Astarion didn’t jolt away. Inhaling sharply, he let you encase his fingers in yours, gradually loosening his grip around your face.
“The interest that you showed in me, the pleasure you gave me,” you shook your head, your gaze lowered on your joined hands. “It was flattering and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but I always knew it wasn’t entirely genuine. However, that closeness,” —your thumb moved almost instinctively as it caressed the back of his hand— “that softness you showed me…”
Your gaze snapped back up to him as you tried to breathe in as much air as you could. “I just wanted more of that intimacy.”
Astarion remained silent for a while, looking into your eyes as if —by not breaking eye contact with you— he would be able to catch a crack in your act.
When your tadpole squirmed, sensing Astarion’s doubt as he searched for more reassurance than just your words, you didn’t oppose any resistance. You pushed down the tiny ache of knowing that he still didn’t trust you completely and let your truest emotions come to the surface.
The moment the realization hit him, the anger on his face disappeared into thin air like smoke after a fire; all that was left behind was a broken relief. Astarion took a few steps back, letting go of your hand as he turned his back to you. He threw his head back and took a deep breath in, his hands planted on his slender waist.
As you followed him from a distance, you noticed a movement coming from one of the tents. Wyll was looking at you, his eyebrows creasing in worry as they keep darting from your face to Astarion, who was now pacing back and forth on the grass.
You wondered how long he had been standing there. How much he had seen. The mere thought made you feel extremely exposed, as though your clothes had suddenly became invisible to the naked eye. You silently reassured Wyll, your tadpole squirming even more behind your eyes while connecting to the warlock’s. You waved quickly at him, responding to his small smile, before he disappeared back into his tent.
You exhaled slowly, moving your gaze back to Astarion. He was still giving you his back, however he stood still under the moonlight, his hair almost reflecting the silvery rays. He looked like the moon itself: so beautiful, and yet so unreadable.
A sudden thought crossed your mind, the question that had been bugging you since the start of that entire ordeal, and to which you hadn’t got an answer yet. You took a deep as you got ready to utter those words, terrified of what the answer was going to be. Scared that the response would break your heart.
“Was it real, that kindness?”
Your voice trembled, barely able to contain the worry that threatened to spill from your eyes. “Or was it just another ruse of yours?”
Astarion turned around. His face was scarred by hurting despite the smile that was pulling his face.
“Of course it was real.” He held out his hands, almost trying to grasp the words he needed, before his arms fell back to his sides. “Otherwise, it would’ve made keeping you away much less painful to bear.”
You had never seen him look so helpless, so defenseless as he stared at you. Your heart broke at seeing him like, but there was still joy gushing through the cracks as you moved towards him. Taking those last few steps that kept you apart, you stopped only when your bodies were just a breath away.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?”
Moving carefully, you pushed your fingers forth until they gently brushed his hand. Once more, he tensed under your touch but didn’t move away.
“I’m not like you, darling.” His smug smile made a brief appearance before it split into an aching wince. “I don’t open up easily.”
“Really?” You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, which gained you a raised eyebrow from him. “It took me over a month to bring myself to sketch in front of anyone else. Honestly, I might be more mysterious than you are.”
Astarion scoffed playfully. “Darling, I am a riddle in vampire form: forever unknowable.” As you softly chuckled, his fingers moved and hooked onto yours. “However, I must admit that your secrecy is… very intriguing.”
“There’s nothing that interesting about my life,” you admitted softly, lowering your gaze. “It’s been a pretty boring existence before meeting you and the others.”
A second later, two fingers moved your chin up until your eyes were back into Astarion’s. Your breath stopped for a second when they moved along your jaw before gently cupping your cheek.
“There is —and never will be— nothing boring about you, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your cheek as you stood still, too scared that he would take it back to move even the smallest muscle. “And even if there was, I’d be happy to hear all the tedious details. And perhaps contribute with some exciting tales if things do get too boring.”
You shook your head with a chuckle, gently tugging his hand. “I expected nothing less from you.”
He grinned, his hand moving down your neck and then brushing along your arm. “Am I already becoming so predictable?”
Before you could answer, Astarion wrapped his fingers around your wrist and brought your hand to his face. He placed your palm on his cheek and leaned into it. You immediately felt the tension in his clenched jaw, the sharp breath he took in and the way his fingers tightened around your hand.
“You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” you whispered softly.
“Trust me, I do.” He closed his eyes as he leaned more into your touch. “I want to feel your fingers trace my features and remind me of their existence. I’m just…” —he inhaled and exhaled shakily, before a small grin appeared on his face, “adjusting to it, you know?”
You nodded with a smile. You understood completely as your palm adapted to the edges of Astarion’s face, to his heat —slightly lower than yours— and to the way your cheeks were also flushing as you watched Astarion slowly relax into your touch.
Freeing your other hand from his grip, you cupped his face and gently pulled him with you as you sat on the grass beneath. The ground was moist, the due dotting the stems slightly dampening your pants, but that was the last thing that could bother you in that moment.
When Astarion sat in front of you, you leaned forward, kneeling as you pointed at his crossed legs with a nod. “Can I sit there?”
A mischievous glint shone in his eyes, something you should’ve expected, but you shook your head, your serious frown never leaving your face. “And feel free to tell me to go fuck myself if you don’t want to, because I will.”
His hands had moved to your hips before you were finished, pulling you in his lap as his smirk grew even wider. “Oh, I’m sure you gladly would, wouldn’t you?”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and biting your lower lip as your cheeks started burning up. “Shut up.”
Then your thumbs moved, circling on his cheekbones. Astarion closed his eyes for a moment, his eyelids shuddering at every brush of your fingertips. His fingers dug slightly into your hips when the warmth of your hands left his cheeks to the chill air of the night; when your fingers started wandering on the rest of his face. You traced his eyebrows and then moved your fingertips along his nose and back up, always under Astarion’s scarlet gaze. When you passed them on his forehead, the tension in his face disappeared under your touch. It was almost like a spell, some secret magic that your hands had always possessed but kept hidden from everyone, even from you.
While your fingers moved almost on their own along those features you knew like the back of your hand, you studied those smaller details that you couldn’t make out from a distance. The wrinkles and circles around his eyes, the small imperfections in his otherwise flawless skin.
“See anything you like?”
You smiled, mirroring his grin, as your indexes followed his smile lines until they brushed the corner of his lips. “What’s there not to like.”
“Good answer.” His smirk grew wider as his hand cupped your face. “Please, don’t hold any compliment back.”
Your thumb brushed over his lips, pulling down ever so slightly his bottom lip. “The same goes for you, fangs.”
Astarion cocked his eyebrow. “Fangs, really?”
“It’s cute, don’t you think?” You passed a hand through his hair, noticing the way his lips slightly fell open when you did. “Just like you.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I would never use that word to describe me, darling. Not in a thousand years.”
His hands left your hips and moved to your face, caressing your cheeks before gliding to the back of your head. Your breath hung in your throat as he stroked your hair; as he pulled your face closer to his until your foreheads touched.
“But I have to admit, it sounds quite nice when you pronounce it.” His whisper hit your skin, warm and intoxicating, setting your face —your entire body— aflame. His fingers traced your mouth, a feather touch that you were not expecting.
“Perhaps,” he breathed again, even closer than before, “your lips could transform any monster in a docile and submissive creature.”
“Is that a request?”
“More a suggestion. For another time, perhaps. ” His fingers moved along your jaws, dreadfully slow. “But I wouldn’t mind a taste.”
His other hand, still wrapped on the back of your hand, pulled you in but your lips didn’t meet. Your fingers, that you had moved on his mouth, were keeping him away. When he moved back, eyes narrowed in confusion, Astarion was met with a mischievous grin.
“You should ask more nicely, fangs.”
His confusion was soon replaced by a pleased glimmer in his eyes. He snorted before cupping your cheek with his hand, his half-lidded gaze on you.
“May I taste your lips, darling?”
The low growl in his voice sent shivers down your spine, stirring your insides like a boiling stew, but you weren’t done. Not yet. You leaned in, stopping inches away from his face as your thumbs kept stroking his cheeks.
“I said nicely, fangs.”
Under your eyes, Astarion swallowed, his tongue darting in between his teeth and licking quickly his lips before he grinned.
“Please?”
“Very good.”
Your whisper brushed against his mouth a second before yours pressed softly on it, in a kiss so different from the rawness you were used to with him. So sweet and calm, even when he kissed you back, slowly opening and closing his lips on yours. He was in no rush as his hands stroked your hair, as they tentatively moved on your shoulders and along your bare arms —sending shivers alone your spine as he did so— until they covered yours. His fingers were almost trembling as they intertwined with yours.
You gently pulled back, gasping for air as you looked him in the eyes. They were still studying you, scarlet pools reading into the darkest depths of your soul and seeing things that they couldn’t understand yet. You weren’t used to that emotional closeness, to someone else being able to see you and wanting to know more.
It was terrifying, no denying that; but also kind of exhilarating.
Astarion smiled, almost as if he had just read your mind —and maybe, he really had. Nudging his nose against your cheek, he squeezed your hands in his.
“I believe you will truly ruin me, my dear.”
“For good or for worse?”
He kissed your lips again, a quick kiss but somehow deeper than before that left your head spinning even when he pulled back and shrugged. “That’s still to be determined.”
464 notes · View notes
shapard · 17 days
Note
hi shepard, i dont normally do this, but i really like your wrighting and i was wondering if you did requests if you could do a lucifer x hellborn!reader where its just a lot of comfort, like the reader lost someone really close to them or something. if not, then no worries, dont feel pressured or anything 💛
Scarlet
Lucifer x hellborn!reader
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A/n: I never really said that I do request but I'm really happy if I get one. So, no Worries<3 I hope it's okay That I put a little Angst into it.
Soft Lucifer, comfort, Angst
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Words can not describe what you feel right now.
Your heart is pumping so loud in your chest as you read the red ink on the white Paper. You don’t want to believe it. It seems impossible. But it’s standing here red on white that your precious mother has passed away in a gang battle of those damn sinners. 
Your tears soften the paper and the red ink smeared the down written words. Your body starts to shake under the pressure of anxiety. 
Lucifer was out on a meeting with the other six sins.
At first he didn’t even want to go on a meeting knowing that your mental health wasn’t on its best shape. The panic attacks were way viler when he was not there. 
Nonetheless you told him you were fine, and he will go to this meeting. He was hiding all those years and you’ll not be in the way of a reunion. 
At first you were doing alright. Watching your comfort movie with your comfort snack was relaxing.
Your pajama was comfortable and your favorite plush was seated on your belly. You giggled at your favorite scene and hugged your plushie more on you.
A loud knocking hollowed through the huge Mainor you now call home. Lucifer didn’t tell you; he was expecting something. Confused you pressed on pause and walked down the hall. Your tail tangled itself on your leg hoping for some comfort. 
As you opened those huge doors a small Imp, just like you. He gave you a black Envelope with your name in white ink. The Imp gave you a slight bow and left fast. 
You walked down the hall back to the bedroom. You opened the black envelope and read the content.
Now you were at the verge of a panic attack. 
Sweat pearling down your forehead and you rolled into a small ball on the floor. The papier laid on the red carpet and you are right next to it.
Your tail was wrapped around you, yet it didn’t help you to feel connected to your body. You shook hard but all you could focus about was your mind running.
Memories of your lovely mother, the one who read stories to you at night to cradle you. 
The way she smiled at you when you told her you were in love. How she told you she’s so proud of you. How he held your hand through your marriage. 
And now she’s gone. 
Killed brutally like the Imp she was. Like the Imp you are. Another proof that no one cares about the life of an Imp.
The ringing in your head just seems to get louder, louder, and louder. Clutching your hands on your head trying to ease the painful headache that had begun.
Your breathing was starting to get heavier and heavier, it got to the point where you thought you couldn’t breathe anymore.
A hand pulled you out of your curled form pressing you on his chest. You immediately recognize that this is your husband.
Lucifer whispers in your ear and stroked your back in a comforting matter. He cradled your body and kissed your cheek multiple times.
“Everything is okay, I’m here. Just take a deep breath in... And out.” You followed his instructions. In and out. Your hand grasp around his torsi pulling him even closer.
The oxytocin was filling your lungs again and your broken cries filled the air. 
Even after-hours Lucifer never let go.
Lucifer doesn't know what happened that cost this state, but all he knows is that you need him. And that's exactly what he's going to do.
Lucifer carried you up to your sharing bed when your light snoring reached his ears. He hugged you close shutting his eyes, grabbing your waist tightly making you feel protective.
______
You rubbed your eyes exhausted from the panic attack yesterday.
As you spun around to look at your husband, Lucifer wasn’t beside you. Again the anxiety filled your ribcage, it was hard to breath.
“Lucifer?!” The door of your shared bedroom sprung open reveling your husband in one of those silly aprons he has. Your body quickly relaxed at the sight of him.
“Darling you’re awake!” His smile was precious and contagious. He moved rather fast towards you, and he stumbled. With grace he caught your breakfast and smiled nervously at you. “I made for you breakfast!” You laughed at his antics and took it out of his hands.
You gave him a peck on the lips and sat down on the bed. Lucifer followed you to the bed but didn't sit down.
Lucifers eyes sparkled when you ate his food. But frowned slightly when you suddenly stopped eating and played with the food.
With a sigh be plopped beside you. “Babe,” He placed the tray on the nightstand and intertwined your hands in his. “You know you can tell me everything.” You nod as you looked on your intertwined hand watching as he strokes his thumb on your hand. His clawed nail tapped on your shared ring.
“Look me in the face, darling.” His other hand moved your head upwards and your e/c orbs meet his red scarlet ones.
Without much thought you gave him the letter you received yesterday. He released your chin and took the letter out of your hand. Lucifers eyes left yours hesitant and he skips through the information. 
His hands clenched around yours in a comforting way after he finished. “Y/n I’m so sorry. I…” He took a deep breath and pressed you again onto his chest. “Everything will be alright darling.”
Your crying was breaking his heart. But letting out emotion is better than letting them eat you up. He knows it the best.
You two had almost a whole spa day.
Lucifer took care of you perfectly, just everything you needed.
His hand in yours like he promised in the wedding. Through thick and thin. The whole day, it was just you and him with pure affection. 
Lucifer and you were cuddled up on your couch. Your head was resting on his lap, and he played with your hand strands. “I Love you, Y/n Morningstar.” He said and pecked your lips. “I love you too, Lucifer Morningstar.”
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A/n: I hoped you enjoyed what I wrote❤️
💫
@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich
If you want to be added click on Taglist
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elaratyrell · 7 months
Text
The Lost Boys {Aemond x Reader, Aegon x Reader, Cregan x Reader, Jace x Reader}
-> Part One {Introduction}
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*All images found on Pinterest*
Warnings: Language, mentions of drugs and drug use
*Divider from Firefly Graphics*
Synopsis: Wanting a fresh start after her divorce, Rhaenyra and her two sons, Jace and Luke travel to Dragonstone island to live with her father Viserys. While Luke seems happy enough reading comic books and attending the nearby amusement park, Jacaerys seems to resent his new life here. That is, however, until he meets you. The catch? You're part of a gang of vampires. And Jace becomes their newest target.
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"We're almost there."
"You said that an hour ago," Luke groaned, slumping back against the car seat.
"Well now I know we definitely are," Rhaenyra replied. "Look." She pointed to a rather large, faded billboard depicting a long pier leading out to the sea, the words Welcome to Dragonstone Island adorning the board in large white letters.
"What's that smell?" Luke asked, his white German Shephard, Arrax, sniffing the air intently.
Rhaenyra inhaled deeply "Sea air," She sighed with contentment.
"Smells like death," A voice piped up from beside Luke.
"Well look who finally decided to wake up," the younger boy teased as his older brother, whose gaze was focused on behind the billboard, where the words Murder Capital of the World had been spray painted on in scarlet. Jace simply grunted in response, earning a sigh from his mother.
"Look, there's an amusement park right on the beach!" Luke exclaimed. "Mum, can we go there?"
"Maybe later, Luke. Your grandfather's expecting us and I'll need help unpacking our things."
"Fine," Luke sighed, scratching Arrax behind the ears as Rhaenyra pulled into a gas station. He eagerly clambered out of the car with Arrax, running into the station to fill up his pockets with snacks.
"Are you okay?" Rhaenyra asked as she got out the car, looking at where her eldest son was resting his head on his propped up arm, the window rolled down halfway.
"I'm fine." Was his response.
"Look, Jace, I know you're still upset by the divorce-"
"I'm fine."
"Things sometimes just don't work out," Rhaenyra continued, resting a hand on his forearm. "Harwin and I-"
"You don't need to explain your break up to me." Jace interrupted. "If it's what you had to do, it's what you had to do."
Rhaenyra lightly squeezed his arm. "I understand how hard that's been for you, Jace. And I understand if you feel any sort of resentment towards me, or your father. But who knows, this could do you the world of good. Fresh sea air, a change of scenery... I'm sure you can even find somewhere you can ride that... contraption-"
"Vermax is a motorcycle, mother," Jace mumbled.
"The fact that you named it," Luke said as he got back into to car with Arrax, his voice slightly muffled by the candy bar he was shovelling into his mouth. "Just makes it sound even more crap."
"Luke, language," Rhaenyra chided before turning back to her eldest. "Yes, I am aware, and even though I personally wouldn't invest in such a thing, your father seemed more than happy to provide you with the money, so who am I to argue? That being said," She held up her index finger. "No gangs-"
"I know, you said that back in King's Landing." Jace rolled his eyes, turning his face away from Rhaenyra, ending the conversation.
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"He looks dead."
"Luke, don't say such things," Rhaenyra gasped, getting out the car.
They had pulled up to an old manor house at the top of the hill, the stone walls crawling with ivy and moss, the red paint on the front door peeling from age. Sat there in an old rocking chair on the front porch was an old man, his stringy silver hair tied into a braid, a shotgun resting on his lap. He was clad in a red and black plaid shirt and ratty blue denim jeans faded with age, a pair of black slippers on his feet. He was slouched over slightly, his eyes half closed and mouth slightly agape.
"Father," Rhaenyra murmured, her hand resting on the old man's shoulder. "Father," She repeated, her voice raised slightly as she gently shook his shoulder.
"He's dead."
"Luke, he's just a deep sleeper." Jace rolled his eyes.
"He doesn't look like he's breathing."
"He is."
"If he's dead, can we move back to King's Landing-"
"Luke!" Rhaenyra exclaimed. "That's enough."
"Playing dead," The old man rasped, opening his eyes. "And doing a good job too, from the looks of things."
"Father," Rhaenyra let out a deep exhale of relief, her hand held to her chest. "Thank goodness."
"It is good to see you." Viserys smiled, slowly rising to his feet with his daughter's help to embrace her. "I will get a pot of tea ready while you unpack."
As Viserys shuffled inside, Luke shared a look with Jace.
"Well... Grandpa's a loon."
"Just get the boxes." Jace muttered, dragging a hand through his curls as he opened the trunk of the car, grabbing one of his boxes labelled weights, while Luke eagerly grabbed his own, black capital letters scrawled comic books across it.
"This... is actually kind of cool." Luke admitted as they walked into the house. There were two worn black leather sofas in the centre of the living room, red throws and cushions scattered across them. Mahogany shelves were pressed against the walls, decked with dragon ornaments, old leather bound books and various silverware. Guns were mounted on the walls, as well as two wooden stakes crossed over in an X shape above the mahogany dining table. It was cluttered with various other bric a brac, but it still held a sense of charm.
"I suppose," Jace murmured, walking upstairs to take his box up to his room.
"That's my room!" Luke yelled, pushing past Jace to get into the larger of the two guest rooms.
"I saw it first!" Jace protested.
"I got in the room first."
"I'll flip you for it," Jace said, placing the box on the floor.
"...Okay..." Luke mumbled, letting out a small shriek and Jace grabbed him, lifting him into the air and turning him upside down.
"Heads or tails, Luke?"
"Neither!" Luke yelled, elbowing his brother in the crotch and landing on the floor in a crumpled heap.
"You little shit!" Jace exclaimed, staggering downstairs after his younger brother.
"Mother! Help me! Someone help, there's a monster after me!" Luke cried out, sliding open the door to the kitchen and running inside, Jace right on his trail.
Luke smirked at his brother, opening the door to the fridge so Jace ran right into it. The older boy let out a small groan, grabbing ahold of Luke and pulling him into a headlock.
"You're gonna pay for that, you little-"
"Rules!"
Both Jace and Luke jumped slightly at the voice, turning to see Viserys standing in the kitchen doorway, those pale eyes of his twinkling in the fading sunlight.
"I have some rules around here," The old man continued, reopening the fridge and pointing to a shelf labelled Old Fart. "This shelf is mine. I keep my Iron Island beer and double stuff oreos in here. Don't touch my shelf."
Jace and Luke shared a look, the latter twirling his index finger around his temple.
Crazy.
Jace nodded, returning his attention back to where their grandfather was now pointing outside to a fenced off field.
"Second rule," He continued. "You can go anywhere except for my special field."
Luke shot Jace a confused glance, mouthing the words 'Special Field?'. Jace raised his first two fingers to his lips in a smoking gesture, making his expression clear in realisation.
"Third rule," Viserys slammed his cane down on the ground to get his grandsons' attention as he led them into the living room. "Every Wednesday the mailman brings the tv guide. Sometimes the corner of the address label's curled up. Don't rip it off. It'll rip the cover and I don't like that. Rule four, don't go exploring the caves and stuff round these parts. It'll kill you. And don't join gangs." He hobbled over to a locked door. "Final rule, stay out of here." He added, unlocking the door and opening it ajar before stepping inside, closing it again behind him.
"Well... should be fun living here." Luke murmured, his gaze travelling to the stairs. Before he could make a break for it to steal the larger room, however, Jace grabbed him, pulling him back and digging around in his pockets for a coin.
"Heads or tails?" He asked, letting go of Luke for a second to flip the coin into the air and catching it in his palm with ease, turning it on the back of his hand, the other concealing it from sight.
"Heads! No, tails. No, heads? Actually-"
"Pick. One."
"Tails?"
Jace removed his hand, his lips quirking up into a triumphant smirk at the dragon head staring up at him.
"Fine," Luke sighed in defeat, before spinning on his heel and charging upstairs. Jace yanked him back by his shirt, throwing himself into his own bedroom and slamming the door shut, pushing Luke out of the doorway.
Jace exhaled, picking his box off the floor and placing it down on his bed, adorned with what was most likely a hand sewn quilt of scarlet and ebony. He stood there, enjoying the fleeting moment of silence after having to deal with Luke in the car for the past seven hours.
Unfortunately, it was fleeting, and soon enough Jace heard a hurried knock on the door.
"Jace!"
"What now, Luke?" Jace pulled the door open, glaring at his brother.
"Grandpa doesn't own a tv. He owns a tv guide and yet he doesn't. Own. A tv. And this place has no mall, no proper cinemas... no MTV..."
"You'll have to survive on comic books then. There might be one in town," Jace sighed in response.
"I don't think that'll be enough-"
"Well what do you want me to do about that, huh?" Jace suddenly exclaimed. "You want me to drive you back to King's Landing? And do what? Leave you there on the street? Or maybe all the way to the other side of the country where dad had to move?"
"I... no I..."
"Just go and unpack," Jace sighed, pushing past his younger brother to go back downstairs. "The sooner you unpack, the sooner you can go down to that amusement park you've been babbling about."
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"So, are you boys going to check out that amusement park tonight?" Rhaenyra asked as she wiped dry the plate Luke had given her with a red checked dish cloth.
"I guess," Jace murmured, picking up another dirty dish to wash.
"Um, you promised you would take me," Luke pointed out.
"Your grandfather tells me there's a concert on. Some... rock band I believe. Perhaps you'll enjoy that Jace."
"Maybe."
Rhaenyra sighed, giving up her attempt to engage in conversation with her son, instead drying a hand to turn up the volume on the old stereo sat on the windowsill.
"Remember this one?" She asked softly. "We used to dance to it all the time."
"Yeah," Luke smiled, quickly drying his hands to take Rhaenyra's, allowing her to pull him to the centre of the kitchen to dance. Jace kept his gaze focused on the dish he was washing as Luke twirled Rhaenyra around, the both of them laughing.
He glanced in their direction to see Rhaenyra beckoning him over, but he just turned away again, cheeks flushed slightly in mild embarrassment as he dried the last dish, wiping his hands clean.
"Come on Luke," He sighed. "Let's get going." He muttered, walking out pf the kitchen to grab his jacket, ignoring the hurt look Rhaenyra sent his way.
Jace pulled on his shoes and shrugged on the leather jacket his father had gifted him, patting its pockets for his motorcycle keys.
"Luke! Let's go!" He called out, already walking out the door to where his motorcycle was parked against the porch, gleaming a blood red in the dim porch light buzzing overhead.
"I thought we were taking the car," Luke wined as Jace swung his leg over to sit on the bike.
"We can take Vermax... or you can walk," Jace replied.
With a slight huff, Luke reluctantly climbed onto the bike behind his brother.
"Hold on."
"I'm fine, I do not need to- shit!" Luke immediately grabbed his brothers jacket as he revved the bike's engine, the tires squealing slightly as he drove away from the manor.
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"So, where do you want to start?" Jace asked as they made their way along the boardwalk.
"Amusement park. Then maybe that comic book store we passed," Luke replied.
"Great, have fun."
"Wait! Where are you going?" Luke grabbed his brother's arm.
"To the concert," Jace replied, shrugging his brother off. "I'll meet you back here in a couple of hours."
"B-but..." Luke glanced around. "Fine..." He sighed, walking away in the opposite direction to his brother.
The music practically vibrated from the makeshift stage at the base of a small grassy hill as Jace navigated his way through the swarming crowd of various goths, punks and druggies, his hands rooted firmly in his jacket pockets.
He ascended the hill, turning to look at the crowds swarming around the stage. Broken bottles of vodka and beer littered the ground, the faint scent of weed lingering in the air. The people around him were swaying from intoxication, passed out of the ground or dancing to the music, swarming around the stage.
He felt himself stand up slightly straighter as he laid eyes a pair on the outskirts of the crowd. There was a young boy, no older than ten maybe, with long white hair reaching down to his shoulders and bright violet eyes. He had a stone faced expression, and was deathly pale, clad in a black band tee, ripped black jeans and a grey jacket.
But it was who the young boy was with that piqued his interest.
It was you.
He watched as the boy led you through the crowds, his hand tightly holding yours. You were dressed in a white puff sleeved summer dress that fluttered in the breeze, the skirt coming midway down your thigh. It had a sweetheart shaped neckline that exposed a hint of your cleavage. On your feet were a pair of white wedge sandals. A pair of dainty ruby earrings hung from your ears, and your hair was loose.
You were stunning.
A vision.
Despite the sea of people cheering to the concert, Jace only saw you.
He felt his cheeks heat up slightly as your gaze met his, his staring having been discovered. He broke out of his trance enough to give you a small smile. Your eyes crinkled slightly, the corner of your lips twitching in a fleeting glimmer of a smile that soon faded as the boy pulled you further into the crowd.
As though hypnotised by you, Jace felt himself step forward, and then another, soon following you into the swarm of swaying people.
He felt his pace quicken as he found himself in the harsh lights of the fair ground. He strained to spot you through the bustling crowds, cheers and screams of joy ringing in the air, the scent of cotton candy and popcorn lingering in the air. It was as though you had vanished in thin air.
"Jace?"
A hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Jace jumped, spinning to see Luke standing behind him, half eaten cotton candy clutched in one hand.
"Are you okay?" Luke asked.
Jace opened his mouth to reply, but a flash of white out of the corner of his eye had him grab Luke's sleeve and drag you in your direction.
"Jace, what the- where in seven hells are we going?"
"Nowhere," Jace muttered. "Just stay quiet."
"Well we're obviously going somewhere," Luke mumbled, struggling to keep up with his brother's brisk pace, his gaze locking onto your retreating figure. "Are you following that girl? Jace, are you stalking-"
"If you're not going to shut up, you can go somewhere else." Jace snapped, releasing his grip on his younger brother.
Luke looked across the street where turquoise neon lighting was flickering the words 'Great Second Hand Book Store'.
"Actually, I do."
"Fine, see you later," Jace called over his shoulder, not paying attention to his younger brother, too entranced by you to focus on anything or anyone else.
Jace kept a safe distance between you and him as he followed you, close enough to keep you in sight and far away enough for it not to look... suspicious.
He came skidding to a stop as you suddenly turned to face him, your hand still clasped in the young boys.
"Are you following me?" You asked, your voice quiet but with a sharp edge to it, your gaze burning into his.
"W-well... well I..."
"Did you need something?" You prompted, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have something you want to say?"
"Uh... well yeah..."
"Then talk."
"I just... I just wanted to... to say..."
"Jace! Mum's here so I'm going home with her. She told me to tell you that you need to be home before grandpa locks the house up at midnight."
Jace hung his head as Luke tugged on his sleeve. "Okay, Luke. I'll see you later," He muttered.
"Okay. Here, look!" Luke suddenly pushed a comic book into Jace's hands. "I got a new one."
"That's... that's really great..." Jace replied, pushing Luke's hand away. "You'll have to tell me about it later."
Luke nodded, glancing over at you and the young boy. You had your gaze focused on Jace, eyes glittering in amusement. Your companion, however, had his gaze focused intently on the comic book in Luke's hands. Almost protectively, he held the book closer towards his chest, an action you seemed to notice. You let out a soft chuckle.
"Don't mind him. Maelor's just a big fan of... vampires..." You said, voice faltering slightly towards the end. Maelor simply squeezed your hand lightly in response, tugging at your sleeve lightly. "Nice talking to you." You murmured to Jace before Maelor pulled you away from the two brothers, leading you down the street.
"Oh... did I interrupt something?" Luke asked, grinning at his brother who shot him a small glare.
"Jace? Luke? There you are," Rhaenyra breathed, rounding the corner, "What's taking you so long? Now, come on, we're going-"
"I'm staying. I'll be home later. Before midnight, I promise." Jace said, already hurrying off in the direction you went, fainty hearing Luke snicker to Rhaenyra "He met a girl."
Jace rounded the corner, his smile fading as he caught sight of you, surrounded by four boys all on motor cycles.
One of the boys, the leader he assumed given he had the largest motorcycle and was at the front of the pack, turned to look at Jace. He had long silver hair tied up in a bun, one eye a vivid blue and the other a cloudy white. He was clad entirely in black leather, resting forward against his bike. His lip quirked upwards into a small smirk as he laid his eyes on Jace, tilting his head to the side as he looked him up and down. Upon deeming he wasn't a threat, he sat properly upwards on his bike, also black, hands resting on the hand grip, the three other boys following suite.
Maelor, the young boy you were with, had clambered onto the silver bike of another boy, with long brown hair tied half up, a graze of stubble dotting his face. He looked tall, and was certainly more physically imposing than the first guy, but he didn't have that same coldness in those storm grey eyes of his. He shot Jace a lazy smile as Maelor wrapped his arms around his middle, starting up his bike.
Jace's gaze then settled on the boy that was nearest to you, perched upon a gleaming gold bike, a rolled up joint hanging from his lips and a hand firmly planted on your waist in a way that made Jace's fists clench. He, like the supposed leader of the gang, had platinum hair, although it was shorter and slightly more dishevelled than the former's. Two small gold hoop earrings gleamed in his ear, and he had a slightly glossed over look in his eyes.
The effect of whatever he was smoking, no doubt.
The fourth boy seemed slightly younger than the others, maybe around Luke's age, with curly platinum hair and a cheeky smile on his face as he revved his cobalt and emerald bike.
The first boy turned to you, tilting his head in a gesture that said come here, and you immediately tore yourself away from the one perched gold bike to sit behind the leader, your arms wrapping tightly around his middle and your chin resting on his shoulder.
The four bikes roared as they spun a circle around Jace before speeding down the boardwalk, and the last thing Jace saw before they disappeared into the night was the small flash of a smile you sent his way.
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When The World Is Crashing Down [Chapter 12: And I'm Just The Boy Who's Had Too Many Chances]
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Series summary: Your family is House Celtigar, one of Rhaenyra’s wealthiest allies. In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, Aemond unknowingly conscripts you to save his brother’s life. Now you are in the liar of the enemy, but your loyalties are quickly shifting…
Chapter warnings: Language, warfare, violence, serious injury, alcoholism/addiction, references to sexual content (18+), snack time for Sunfyre, dream sequences, murder, sad sad children, the return of an old friend, a road trip (boat trip??)! 🥰
Series title is a lyrics from: “7 Minutes In Heaven” by Fall Out Boy.
Chapter title is a lyric from: “A Little Less Sixteen Candles, a Little More Touch Me” by Fall Out Boy.
Word count: 6.2k.
Link to chapter list: HERE.
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She is the third prisoner you have visited in the dwindling hours of their life, as if you are a dark omen, a giver of last rites, the Stranger. Otto was resigned. Baela was overconfident, unsuspecting. But the woman behind the iron bars now—the one the people of Westeros are calling the half-year queen—is restless and pacing like a trapped animal. Her gown is black velvet with gore-scarlet accents. Her long silver hair hangs tangled and limp. You reach into her cell to place two items on the stone floor: a piece of bread, a cup of tea.
“Poison?” Rhaenyra says, sharp, derisive.
“No,” you answer truthfully.
“Why not?”
“Because that would be painless. And I want you to suffer.”
“What happened to you?” she whispers, stunned.
I lived, I died, I was resurrected. “I’m a different person now. We all are.”
“You have aligned yourself with the Usurper. You must have, you would not be permitted to visit me alone otherwise. You have betrayed me. You have betrayed House Celtigar. How could you? I remember how gentle you once were, how kind. I remember your father telling me how you begged him to let you serve in the war as a healer. You just wanted to stop people’s agony. You would tend to men of any allegiance. You were harmless. You were a saint, an angel.”
“The world clipped my wings, it seems.”
“Where is my son?” Rhaenyra demands.
“Wherever the king wishes for him to be.”
It leaps into Rhaenyra’s face: terror, helplessness, desperation. She rushes towards you and grabs for your hands, her arms jutting through the spaces between the iron bars until the metal digs into her shoulders, until the rust leaves stains on her gown. You rip away from her, feeling no mercy at all. “Please,” Rhaenyra whimpers. “Please. Don’t harm my son.”
“It is not my decision to make.”
“He’s all I have left.” She is weeping; she is lurking in the doorway between reason and insanity. “The people turned against me. They killed Syrax, they killed Joffrey. The Dragonpit is gone. My family is gone. Daemon is gone. The prince is all I have left now. Please, please…”
“You could have stopped this,” you say, cold like a blade. “When your father died, you refused to yield the throne. When you captured King’s Landing, you refused Alicent’s proposal to split the realm between you and Aegon. And even now—hated by the smallfolk, staring death in the face—you refuse to surrender. You refuse to kneel to Aegon and send the Stark men back to the North and end the slaughter. Every drop of blood spilled in this war is on your hands. You are filthy with it, you are nothing but red. You took them all from us. Jaehaerys, Maelor, Otto, Helaena, Autumn’s baby, Everett, Criston, Daeron, Aemond. I charge you with their deaths. Your life is the only possible repayment for the debt.”
“Help me and I will give you anything you want,” Rhaenyra pleads. “Free me. Assist me and my son in escaping Dragonstone. I will go to Cregan Stark, he will shelter me, and when he has won the war for us I will lay the world at your feet. I will give House Celtigar dominion over all the Crownlands, you will be second only to the Targaryens in regard. I will appoint Clement to my Queensguard and name you the head of your house. You can spend your wealth as you see fit. You can marry anyone, or no one, or marry a man and push him from a cliff and then marry again. None of it matters to me. Help me now, and I will make you free forever.”
“I won’t help you murder Aegon.”
“He’s dead either way. Only Aemond and Vhagar could stop the Northmen, and they’re gone.”
That’s not true. That can’t be true. “Enjoy your last meal, dragon queen,” you tell Rhaenyra as you turn away. “The king has a fitting end planned for you.”
When you cross through the dungeons into the main castle—your gown fluttering around your ankles, vivid red velvet like fire, like blood—Lord Larys Strong is waiting. He trots after you as quickly as he can, his cane striking loudly against the stone floor. “Your Grace, I must implore you to beseech the king to spare the boy’s life.”
“It’s for Aegon to decide what to do with him.” Presently, Rhaenyra’s last remaining child is locked up in the bedchamber once claimed by Prince Aemond. He is young, afraid, watchful, old far beyond his years…but he is unharmed. Two servants and two guards have been assigned to the boy to ensure his needs are attended to and that he cannot escape. The small entourage that Rhaenyra landed on Dragonstone with—expecting to be greeted by Baela and Moondancer, and swiftly disappointed—was executed immediately.
“He is an invaluable asset to our cause,” Larys insists. “The king needs an heir. Jaehaera, as a girl, cannot inherit. But if she was married to Aegon the Younger, they could unite the warring factions and end any enduring ill-will. Their union could pave the way for peace that will last generations.”
“And that’s what we fought for, so little girls could go on being traded like horses and shoved into whichever marriage bed promises the rest of us the greatest advantage.”
Larys is hurt; you have chastised him for something he has no control over. “That is the way of the world, Your Grace. Marriages are arranged. Women are bartered with. The poor die for the rich and cripples are overlooked entirely. There is no changing any of this, it is madness to try.”
“Oh, are any of us not mad yet?” you quip back, sweeping into Aegon’s bedchamber. Larys breaks away, leaving you and the king alone.
Aegon is standing in front of his mirror. He wears all black, his sword and dagger at his belt, his scars on his face, the Conqueror’s crown glinting with rubies. He rubs at his lower back and winces without realizing he’s doing it. His kidneys, you think with dismay. Aegon says as he stares at his reflection, only half-joking: “Who is that?”
You go to him, lay two fingers on the line of his jaw and turn his face to yours, kiss the rough red scar tissue of his right cheek and then his lips, wet with wine. “I think you should spare the boy.”
“So he can marry Jaehaera someday?” Aegon replies cynically.
“No.” You touch your forehead to his and close your eyes. “Because mercy is increasingly rare, and once the last of it is gone what made us ourselves will be too. He’s just a child.”
“So were Jaehaerys and Maelor. So was Autumn’s son. The Blacks murder children.”
“Yes. But you don’t have to.”
Now Aegon is quiet, gentle. “Show me your hand.”
You give it to him, hastily scrubbed and bandaged the night before. He unwraps the linen and examines your palm, split down the center with a shallow gash surrounded by rusty smudges of dried blood. Aegon presses your hand to his face and inhales deeply, then cleans the maroon stains from your skin with his tongue. He grins, dazed with wine and milk of the poppy. “I can’t waste a drop of you.” And when he kisses your lips he tastes like copper and dreams and the ancient salt of the ocean that breaks against the rocks outside.
Aegon staggers around his room collecting items you once used to save his life: linen, vinegar, rose oil. He wants to take care of you this time, he wants to mend the flesh that once patched his back together. He remembers the steps, you observe; he reenacts them with reverent care.
“I shouldn’t have pushed you away last night,” Aegon says as he tends to your hand. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I’m sorry.”
“You were in shock. You were grieving.”
“What did the witch tell you? You said that’s why you harmed yourself.”
Horrible things. Unbelievable things. “She swore she didn’t know what would happen to Aemond. And that their son will become a knight of House Whent.”
“House Whent? I must have slept through that lesson.”
“For once, your educational apathy is not at fault. It doesn’t exist. Not yet, anyway.”
“I’ll scorch the rubble of Harrenhal,” he says, dark and low. “I’ll have her tortured to death. She took Aemond from us.”
You reply softly: “Killing Alys won’t bring him back.” And if her son is real, he is the only piece of Aemond we have left.
Now there are tears in Aegon’s eyes; he blinks them away so he can see well enough to finish bandaging your hand. “He was there when I was burned. He was there when I broke my legs. He was there for me when I had nothing to give him in return. He shouldered the burdens of ruling without ever trying to take the throne.”
“Yes, he did.”
“I never told him what he meant to me.”
“But he still knew.”
Your hand is your own again. You braid a lock of Aegon’s short silver hair, remembering the first time you ever did: he was a dying adversary, you were a Black loyalist destined to marry Cregan Stark. “The boy can live,” Aegon decides. “But he must learn the price of treason.”
Down on the beach, the guards have driven a stake deep into the sand. The midday sky is thick and tumultuous with dark clouds; the waves of the Narrow Sea thrash and roil, lethal undercurrents, surging riptides. Aegon insists on descending the craggy stone staircase himself, not like an invalid but like a king. He moves haltingly, clutching at the wall for support. By the time he reaches the shore, Aegon’s legs are trembling wildly and his face is flushed, agonized, drenched with sweat despite the metallic chill of winter in the air. One of the maesters fetches Aegon a cup of milk of the poppy and he gulps it down so urgently that opalescent beads of liquid escape to roll down his chin. Lord Larys appears to stand beside him, both hands laced over the handle of his cane.
Now the guards are roping Rhaenyra to the stake. She wears the same gown she arrived in: filthy, ripped, ruined from travelling. She does not fight them; she only asks: “Where is my son? Where is the prince?”
And then she spots him. His tiny hands are clasped by guards. The wind rakes at his silver hair. He is confused, frightened, peering around with huge glistening eyes that are a murky blue like the king’s. He must be about five years old now. He has been led to the beach to watch his mother die. You glance uneasily at Aegon. He does not notice; he attention is fixed on Rhaenyra.
“How did it feel, sister?” Aegon calls out to her. Something glows fierce and mindless behind his eyes, something devours ravenously like fire.
Rhaenyra watches him warily, not understanding. At the edge of the beach, curled in on himself and breathing in slow rattling heaves, Sunfyre glares at the half-year queen.
“My father’s love. I never knew it.” Aegon lurches closer, grinning without any humor, baring his teeth like an animal. “I knew other things, sure. I knew his indifference. I knew his fury. I knew his boots and his contempt. But I never knew his love. Neither did Aemond, though he worked for it, worked himself bloody. Neither did Helaena or Daeron or my mother. Did it keep you warm, Rhaenyra? Did you spend your childhood so instinctively aware that there were always hands waiting to catch you?”
“I had my trials too, brother,” Rhaenyra says, her head held high and defiant. “I lost people. I was compelled marry against my wishes.”
“And you found solace in the arms of others, the same as I did!” Aegon roars. “And Father defended you! He saw proof of your failings—obvious, indelible proof—and he didn’t just forgive it, he erased it, he made it a crime to mention it, your sons cut out Aemond’s eye and still all Father could bring himself to care about was your honor, your wellbeing! Well, he’s gone now, Rhaenyra. Your protector is ashes but I’m still here. The throne is mine. The retribution is mine. And your life is mine too.”
“You will not live a month after me!” she hisses into bitingly cold wind. “The wolves are closing in. Winter is coming. Cregan Stark is the Kingmaker now, it is a title he wears with great pride. He will not pardon your treason. He will have the Boltons flay you alive.”
Aegon cackles; he is toying with her. “Why would the wolves want my skin? It is not so handsome now. Shall I tell you what it was like when Meleys burned me at Rook’s Rest? It was the worst pain imaginable. I begged to die. But I didn’t. An angel brought me back from the dead. And now it’s your turn to burn.” Aegon shouts something to Sunfyre in High Valyrian. Sluggishly, the dragon uncoils himself and ventures towards Rhaenyra, sniffling, salivating. His claws sink into the wet sand; his belly drags on the ground. His golden eyes glint with wounded reptilian wrath.
“Mama!” her son wails, struggling against his captors.
“No, no, don’t cry,” she soothes. She is beginning to sob. “Don’t look, baby. Close your eyes. Don’t cry. Mama isn’t scared. Mama loves you. Now close your eyes and don’t open them no matter what you hear—”
“It’s such a shame that our uncle Daemon is at the bottom of the Gods Eye,” Aegon taunts Rhaenyra. “You two were made for each other. Treacherous, grasping, scheming, beloved by Father in measure that far exceeds your worthiness. What a fated romance. You built such an infamous legacy together. You should have been set ablaze together.”
“Mama!” the little boy screams.
“Dracarys,” Aegon commands Sunfyre. The beast growls at Rhaenyra but does no more than that. He is weak, he is dying. Aegon tries again, almost manic with pain: “Dracarys!”
You lay your bandaged palm on Aegon’s forearm to calm him. “Let Sunfyre smell her blood,” you murmur, and with trembling hands he gives you the dagger that he uses to cut his hair, that you opened your flesh with to summon Alys Rivers and her terrible prophesies. You cross the sand to meet the Black Queen.
“Don’t hurt her!” Rhaenyra’s son shrieks. “Mama! Mama!”
Rhaenyra is bound around her legs, waist, and shoulders; her lower arms hang free and useless. You take her left hand, turn it over, and press the point of the dagger to her wrist. You have done this once before, when you tested Baela for a pulse; now it comes just as easily. As you glide the blade down Rhaenyra’s wrist and open her veins, Rhaenyra says, hushed and venomous: “You have sold your soul, Lady Celtigar. And in the service of a dead man. I hope it was worth it.”
Still gripping the dripping dagger, you leave her and go to her son. Behind you, you can hear Sunfyre snarling and Rhaenyra moaning in dread. As the boy bawls, you wave the guards away and pull him to you, embracing him, shielding him. “Don’t look,” you whisper; and he clutches you like you once held onto Aemond on this beach after Aegon’s legs were shattered, not because he wants to but because you are here, and because you understand the weight of horror like this, the poison that replicates in the marrow of your bones, the debt that can never be paid.
There is heat, a blistering inferno, and a scream that Rhaenyra cannot bite back. You squeeze your eyes shut and breathe in the sickeningly sweet miasma of seared human flesh, and suddenly you are back at Rook’s Rest as Aemond dragged you through the burning woods where embers fell like snow, into the tent of green canvas, to the table where Aegon writhed and suffered and pleaded for death. There are sounds of tearing and crushing. There are dry snaps that can only be Rhaenyra’s charred bones splitting between Sunfyre’s jaws. The dead woman’s son clings to you, and you look across the beach at Aegon. He gazes back, and something flits across his eyes, glassy with pain and exhaustion and wine and milk of the poppy, and he knows he’s done wrong. There is shame. There is an apology, not to the boy but to you. To all the bright, benevolent mercy that his war has carved out of you. Then the king collapses, drained and unconscious on the cold sand.
Aegon is carried to his rooms. The child—in shock, in hysterics—is dosed with a few drops of essence of nightshade by the maesters and put to bed. You go to the castle library and pour over books searching for how to cure ailments of the kidneys, for any scrap of wisdom you might have missed before. You read until you fall asleep with your cheek resting against pages chronicling the signs of doom: paleness, weakness, no appetite, swelling in the hands and feet, pain in the lower back, blood in the urine. Night descends like a wave that pulls you under. Candles flicker on the table. Lord Larys leaves you bread and wine and a bowl of crab soup in case you wake hungry before dawn.
You don’t know that by the time you rise in the morning, the Master of Whisperers will have received word that Borros Baratheon’s army seized the capital for Aegon and sent out calls for the king in hiding to return to the city. It’s time to sail across Blackwater Bay to King’s Landing. It’s time for Aegon to go home.
~~~~~~~~~~
On your last night in the gloomy, beast-haunted walls of Dragonstone, you dream of Alicent’s youngest child Daeron. You are walking on the beach outside, and you know this isn’t real because the sand is warm and golden, and the sky is a cloudless blue, and winter is nowhere to be found, it is summer now and it will be tomorrow and it will be forever after that as well. Daeron soars down to where the serene crystalline waves meet the shore on Tessarion, and the swanlike Blue Queen waits patiently in the frothing surf as her rider strides over to meet you. He stands tall and proud; his long white-blond hair whips in the sunlit wind; he is beaming. His cape billows out behind him like the sails of a ship. He is clothed in bright cheerful seafoam green, just like he was on the day he died.
“I’m so sorry, Daeron,” you say as the sunshine beats down like heavy rain. “You were too young. You deserved more time.”
But Daeron just grins, crooked and cocky. “Do not mourn for me, sister. I was blessed with a hero’s death. There is no better way to leave this earth than in battle. And I roasted as many of those bastards as I could before the end.”
“Why have you come back?”
“I have a favor to ask,” he says; and only now do his large blue eyes go soft and misty. “When you return my cape to Mother, ask her to burn it. She will want to bury it in accordance with the funeral customs of the Faith of the Seven, but I want to be laid to rest as a true Targaryen. There’s no chance for my body. Your wolf threw me into a mass grave.”
“I don’t belong to Cregan Stark.”
“Someone should tell him that.” Daeron sighs. “I miss Aegon. We all do. Things are clearer where I am now. Things like disappointment and bitterness are just words; we’ve forgotten how to feel them. But we do know absence. And we see how he suffers.”
“What can I do to heal him?” you ask, you plead. “I’ll do anything. What can I do?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Daeron says. Then he treks back to Tessarion and they vanish together into a clear summer sky, a fleeting glimmer of ethereal blue like a comet.
~~~~~~~~~~
Aegon is kneeling by Sunfyre, his hand on the dragon’s clever, angular face. The beast is dead. He ceased his labored, clattering breathing in the night and was gone long before the king struggled out of his nest of blankets; Aegon is always cold now. Sunfyre is at peace, he is reunited with the fallen creatures of his kind, Tessarion and Vhagar and Dreamfyre…but the world has so much less magic in it than it did before.
“Your Grace, we must leave now,” Larys nudges, sympathetic yet insistent. At the end of the pier, a small ship bobs in rough slate-grey waves. Everyone else is already aboard, the servants, the guards, the maesters, the captive child. You touch Aegon’s shoulder, knowing what he is thinking: Everything I own, everything I’m given…it is destroyed, gets killed, goes mad. I ruin causes. I ruin people.
“He can’t be gone,” Aegon says numbly. “I don’t know how to live without him. I can’t remember a time before he was mine.”
“He held on as long as he could for you,” you tell Aegon. “He saved your life more than once. He lived and died in your service.”
“I want monuments built for him,” Aegon says, sniffling and swiping away tears. His ring—gold wings, jade eyes—flashes under scant beams of muted sunlight. “And for my brothers, and for Helaena, and for Criston and Otto and the children. Daeron’s statues should be laughing, and Aemond’s should be fierce, and…and…”
“Anything you want, Your Grace,” Larys agrees. “But first we must go home.”
There are jubilant crowds waiting to welcome Aegon into King’s Landing, and not just Baratheon soldiers whose fortunes are staked upon his victory but bakers, butchers, blacksmiths, tailors, potters, drunks, orphans, widows, actors and madams and whores. They do not flinch away when they see his dragonfire scars or his slow, painful gait. They only cheer more deafeningly. They see in him what they all have known: the feeling of being broken, the hope of being resurrected as something greater. They believe he can win the war for them. They believe he can keep the wolves at bay. Meanwhile, Larys smuggles Rhaenyra’s child into the city in an enclosed carriage; he does not want the masses to rip the Blacks’ heir apart piece by piece.
In the Red Keep, Alicent flies through the corridors to rush into the unsteady arms of her last living child, her only son. She is skin and bones, an auburn-haired ghost with translucent skin and fingers knobby with arthritis. She kisses his face and weeps and spills out a litany of mourning for Helaena, Daeron, Aemond, Criston. Aegon tries to soothe her, but he doesn’t know what to say. There are no clocks to turn back or nightmares to startle awake from. This is the world now, there is no escaping it, what is lost will forever remain ashes or earth or bones at the bottom of the Gods Eye.
Along with Alicent emerges Jaehaera, much the same as you remember her, a bit taller, grave for someone so young, but still with Aegon’s oceanic eyes and high cheekbones and the gentleness that he used to have so much more of. The girl does not seem to have much interest in her father—if she recognizes him at all—but smiles and waves timidly at you from behind the skirts of her protector. And this is a face you remember too: a wry smirk, hazel eyes, skin milky and freckled, framed by long coppery ringlets.
“I’m glad you’re still alive, my lady,” Autumn says. “Have you bought me a castle yet?”
~~~~~~~~~~
When you dream of Helaena, she is sitting on the rim of a fountain in the gardens of the Red Keep. Her gown is a soft butter yellow and her hands are crawling with butterflies. They perch on her fingers like rings: ruby, sapphire, amethyst, moonstone, emerald, gold. It is warm, it is summer. It is always summer in the land of ghosts. You join Helaena, and butterflies form a kaleidoscopic blizzard in the air. The water spouting from the fountain trickles cool and clear.
“I didn’t know you were going to jump,” you tell her. “I would have stopped you. I’m sorry I was too late. I’m sorry I looked away.”
“Things are better where I am now,” Helaena says. “It’s miles and miles of gardens. Jaehaerys and Maelor are there. Daeron and Aemond are there. Grandsire is there too, and we all eat supper together each night, and no one ever argues. Everett is there with Autumn’s baby. He is a joyful little thing, he sleeps and smiles and never cries. Everett carries the baby as he walks through the gardens. At night, Everett reads to us. He loves to read. He and Aemond have struck up quite the rapport. And there is no killing. Everyone is already dead.”
You watch her, a tenderhearted sunlit spirit. “What do you need from me, Helaena? Why have you come back?”
“I was not able to be a good mother in life. But now I see my children as they truly are.” She gazes at you with urgency in her eyes like rainwater, orchids, aquamarines. “Jaehaera is so young, so vulnerable. To be a woman at the mercy of men is a terrible thing. She will require a champion in high places.”
And you picture her: the little girl who looks so much like Aegon, the child who is sweet and compliant and forever trying so hard to be brave. “I’ll always do what I can to protect her.”
“You must whisper into the right ears. You are believed to be merciful; you must be seen to act out of mercy, not for love of who her father was.”
Who her father was, not is. Was. “Helaena—”
“If she is seen as a rival, she will be put to death. Please don’t let them kill her. Please let one of my babies grow up.”
“I promise I’ll help Jaehaera, but Helaena—”
She leans in and grabs your face with her right hand, butterflies still gleaming on her fingers like jewels. “It’s time to wake up now.”
And you fall backwards into the fountain that turns from water to air to the feather mattress of Aegon’s bedchamber.
~~~~~~~~~~
“After Rhaenyra killed my boy, I knew where I had to go.”
When the Baratheons took the city and freed Alicent, she arranged for Helaena’s old rooms to be given to Autumn. You sit by the crackling fire with her as Jaehaera and Aegon the Younger play with wooden blocks across the bedchamber, speaking to each other in tentative, bashful murmurs. They do not comprehend that their families slaughtered each other. They are two lonely, profoundly wounded children, building kinship out of loss and ignorance. Rhaenyra’s son has swiftly become attached to Autumn; he trails after her everywhere, clutches at her skirts, reaches up to ask her to hold him. She has lost one silver-haired child, yes, brutally, horribly; but she has gained two.
“Everett helped arrange for me to escape to Storm’s End,” Autumn continues, sipping hot apple cider to warm her as winter bears down upon the Crownlands. You have a cup too; steam curls up from the amber brew like smoke from a dragon’s jaws. What dragon? you think. They’re nearly all dead now. Autumn looks at you with sad, shining eyes. “You have to believe me when I say that I never loved the king. But I grew to love the baby we made together. And when he was taken from me…when he was dragged out of my arms, still wet with blood from the womb, I…I…” She shakes her head, swallows down the longing that will never quite leave her. “I felt that if I could not be with my own child, at least I could be with his sister, a girl who was so alone in the world.” Now Autumn smiles. “I know I called her an inbred little freak before. That was cruel of me. She isn’t so bad. I love her to death, actually. I would break bones for that kid. She never complains. She tries her best at everything. It’s not her fault she’s inbred.”
“Borros Baratheon let you stay in Storm’s End?” you ask; he is not known to be a generous or trusting man.
Autumn shrugs. “Jaehaera recognized me. She was able to confirm that I had been a handmaiden to the Greens. Lord Borros took some convincing, but…no harm was done. We came to an agreement.”
“I’m so sorry, Autumn,” you say solemnly. “I wish I could have done more for you. But things are different now. You’ll never have to sell your body again.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. The wolves will be knocking on our doors within the week. Whichever way it goes, I intend to survive. I always have, I always will. Whatever it takes.” She peers through the window at dim grey skies, at bare tree limbs. “You heard about what happened to Everett?”
Alys’ vision flares in your skull like lightning, like dragonfire. “Yes.”
“I can’t even blame the people,” Autumn says. “They hated Rhaenyra, and rightly. They hated her for Helaena, for Jaehaerys and Maelor, for my son. They didn’t know the difference. They thought one Celtigar man was just as guilty as the next. Now Everett is dead, his body parts squirreled away in a hundred different households as souvenirs, and from what I understand when Rhaenyra was driven from the city Clement rode north to join Cregan Stark.”
“Of course he did,” you mutter bleakly.
“Angel, the king…he’s…he’s not well, is he? He doesn’t look well. He looks like a dead man. He’s so pale, so slow when he walks, and his eyes are sunken way down in their sockets—”
“He’s healing,” you say, and Autumn just stares at you. “He’s been through suffering, terrible suffering, but when the war is over he’ll finally be able to rest. He’ll get better. He has to get better.”
“Of course,” Autumn agrees; but she bites her lip and takes your hand and holds it so tightly it hurts.
That night as Aegon crawls into bed—the same bed that was his when you were first brought to King’s Landing, the bed where you healed his burns and massaged rose oil into his scar tissue and ensured that the milk of the poppy he received was enough to kill his pain but not his body, the same bed where you fell in love with him—he gathers you into his arms and draws you closer, closer, your head against his scarred chest, his heartbeat slow and drumming beneath your fingerprints.
Aegon says: “Someone finally remembered that Corlys Velaryon was locked up down in the dungeons and set him loose. He has joined my cause in exchange for our assurance that Rhaena will never be mistreated. I’ve told Corlys that Daeron killed Baela and Moondancer. He has accepted this as one of the many tragedies of the war, and he harbors no resentment towards you. And don’t think that I’ve slandered Daeron. He would gladly take the credit if he was here.”
“I’ve done so many unforgiveable things,” you marvel.
“Yes, for me. Only for me. I bear the weight of those sins, not you. Now let me distract you from them.”
But he can’t do it, not any of it; he’s too weak, he’s bloodless, he’s empty. He’s panting out apologies and calling himself useless. You’re trying to console him. You kiss his face, his throat, his chest, all the ruined pieces of him. You tell him you’re not disappointed, that you can try again later.
“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry—”
“Shh, shh. It’s alright, Aegon.”
“It’s not,” he moans, eyes closed, already plummeting into unconsciousness. “But I don’t have a choice.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Aemond is in the rookery of the Red Keep, scrawling letters at the writing desk. Ravens squawk and paw at the bars of their cages. He wears a deep ancient green that makes you think of pine trees, swamps, snakes, lizard-lions. His silver hair is tied back in a single thick braid, as if he might be hurrying off to ride Vhagar into battle soon, as if he might roast the Northmen in their armor. But of course, Aemond can do no such thing. Not anymore.
“It’s cold at the bottom of the Gods Eye,” he says without looking at you.
“You’re still there?”
“I’m everywhere and I’m nowhere. It’s strange. Sometimes I’m in the water. Sometimes I’m in the gardens. Sometimes I’m watching Alys. Sometimes I’m watching you.” He turns around, and you see that he is grinning. His eyepatch is gone and his sapphire glittering, just like it was that night on Dragonstone. “But perhaps that is not so welcome a thought.”
“I wish you would have listened to us,” you say, not with anger but with deep, desperate sorrow. “I wish you could have understood the worth you had and stopped chasing phantoms.”
“I believed that by redeeming myself, I could save my family. You think if you take enough lives Aegon will get to keep his. We’ve all made mistakes. But now the debts have been called in. And there’s nowhere for us to go but down.”
I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to imagine it. “What do you need from me, Aemond? You need something. Everyone does.”
“Please do not harm Alys,” Aemond says, calm, courteous. “She was good to me. She loved me, and I loved her, even if that love was woven of dark, destructive threads. And my son…” Aemond smiles, proud and wistful. “He will have a part to play in what comes next.”
“I miss you,” you say, almost like an apology. “More than I thought I would.”
“I did not always treat you fairly. I did not always conduct myself in the most honorable manner. It is a regret of mine.”
“I’ve already forgiven you.”
“I know,” he says with his sly, taunting smirk. Then he stands and crosses the rookery, and just as he strikes out to catch your forearm you startle awake in a cold, dark room. You roll over, move closer to Aegon, watch his chest so you can tell if he’s still breathing.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the morning, Aegon wakes up alone. This is not unusual; he sleeps at least twelve hours a day now, and when you rise you go about your tasks until he catches up with you. He fumbles for the cup of milk of the poppy that you left for him on the bedside table and takes a swig. It’s enough to bring the pain in his legs and his back and his soul down to an ache, but he is never rid of it. He wonders, as he twirls the drained cup between his fingers, just how much it would take to kill someone. He wonders how much you gave to Baela in the dungeons of Dragonstone.
Aegon tries to climb out of bed but ends up stumbling to the floor instead. He tries to stand and can’t manage it. Groaning, hating himself, he scrabbles around under the bed for the porcelain chamber pot. He grabs it just as the situation is about to get even more mortifying, kneels on the floor, and relieves himself, sighing deeply. He yanks back up his cotton sleeping trousers and ties them snugly around his ever-shrinking waist. Then he looks down.
“Oh fuck,” he exhales in a whisper, hidden like a crime. The chamber pot is full of blood.
I have to throw it somewhere. I can’t let her see it. He peers around frantically. Out the window?? Into a potted plant??
He doesn’t want the servants to deal with it; they might gossip, she might hear them. Aegon is still thinking—no simple undertaking through the haze of milk of the poppy—when he hears footsteps in the doorway.
“Seven hells,” Autumn gasps. Her horrified gaze darts from the bloody chamber pot to the king and back to the porcelain bowl of blood, a bright and unmistakable and murderous red. “I’m sorry, Your Grace…I was looking for extra blankets…the children have never known a winter before and they are cold, and I…” Her eyes snag on the blood again like a fish on a hook. “Oh. Oh gods.”
“Don’t tell her,” Aegon pleads. “She can’t cope with it. She doesn’t want to believe it. I haven’t figured out how to tell her yet. Please don’t say anything.”
“Of course I won’t,” Autumn replies, tenderly now, tears brimming in her small hazel eyes. She knows exactly what it feels like to lose the man you love. “Here,” she says, pointing to the chamber pot. “Let me help you get rid of that.”
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months
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🍲🍪💜
"Easy," Clark said softly, stroking sweat-dampened hair off your forehead. "You okay?"
"I'm okay," you murmur, reaching for him. Feeling vulnerable now that you'd had to tap out.
He smiled tenderly and gathered you up in his arms, pulling you closer. If you hadn't stopped, he was going to. As good as it felt to reduce you to forgetting how to speak, he was afraid he was going to hurt you- really hurt you. And he wasn't sure he hadn't. He'd never really... let loose like he had with you. Mostly because he'd never had sex with someone that knew what he really was.
"Hungry? Do you need something to drink? Anythin-"
"Don't go," you whimper, sinking your fingers into his shoulder.
"Shhh," he soothed. "Honey, I'm here. Don't worry." When your heart rate sped up again, he tucked blankets around you. "You're so pretty-"
"I'm not."
"You are," he insisted. Shit. He didn't really know what to do. The only time he'd had a girl get this sad in bed, was after she got sad about premarital sex after getting her purity ring. And he'd been 17. "Watching you whine for me- you're so pretty when you let me take care of you." Clark felt himself flush scarlet. It wasn't good dirty talk, sure. But it was true. He hadn't wanted to stop. You looked so... perfect. It felt right, having you like that... undone. "So tiny compared to me," he teased.
"Hurts-"
"What hurts?" he asked, alert now.
"Lots of places," you murmur, embarrassed.
"Hurt hurt or just sore?" he asked. He'd take you to the hospital if-
"Sore mostly," you sigh. "Can I have a bath?"
A bath. Clark exhaled sharply. He could handle a bath. And maybe something sweet to snack on. Maybe order some dinner. A hot bath, a nice full belly, and plenty of attention- that would help right? It would make you feel better? He didn't know. But. He was willing to try it. Try anything. And next time, he;d be more careful.
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vase-of-lilies · 11 months
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A Hard Week
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❀ Mommies!WandaNat x Little!Reader (F)
❀ Stress, MD/LG themes, slight coercion but good coercion, baby talk, little reader, slight psychotic break but just a breakdown, crying, cuddling, poly relationship
❀ Request: A fic where reader is having a really bad week and just breaks down one day because she’s so anxious and stressed. Wanda and Nat see this and takes the time out to help her get little and let her relax. 
❀ A/N: Request sent in by @fragilepuppi! Thank you for your kind words, and I am thinking about moving the toy lion, the scarlet witch and the tiny wardrobe to Tumblr again! But thank you for the super kind words and thank you for reblogging and being so interactive with my stories:) Gif by me:)
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Finals week. The dreaded week in college where professors become serious, strict, and pushy. The week where they don’t care about your mental health, only your grades. You, an overachiever is their most vulnerable target for pushiness. If they say to redo it, you don’t ask why, you find what you did wrong on your own and fix it yourself. Feeling like an inconvenience if you ask for help. 
It was taking a toll on you, and Wanda and Nat could tell. You would shut yourself in your room for hours on end, studying and taking notes like a machine. But you aren’t a machine, you needed to eat, drink, shower, and sleep. And you did none of that. You pushed your own needs away to keep your head in the game to get a good final grade. It was your last year after all, before you got your degree!
Every hour, Wanda or Natasha would come in with a new glass of water and some snacks wanting to make sure that you were getting what you need. But to their disappointment they found a full plate and a half drunken cup of water, the ice fully melted and condensed onto the outside of the cup. As your music blasted into your headphones, they could only do so much. They would give you a kiss, and watch you for a few minutes before closing your door and waiting for the next hour to arrive. 
“Im really worried about her, she is pushing herself to the limit and we haven’t seen our little girl in a while.” Wanda says to Nat as they cuddle on the couch. They were so worried about you, and only wanted to see you happy and not stressed. Natasha agrees, sighing as she holds Wanda to her chest. 
“I know hon, I just want to scoop her up and hold her until she falls asleep. There are more empty coffee cups in her trash than empty water bottles. This week is killing her.” 
Wanda sighed into her girlfriends shirt and Watched the slideshow of pictures that filled the TV screen when it turned off. The pictures of you three made her smile. Your eyes were bright and full of emotion, not tired and emotionless. Your smile was genuine, not a simple acknowledgment of Wanda or Nat when they come into your room. 
“I hate how much she loves to work. She works too hard, and I don’t know how to help her. I know this week is important to her, but even with the coffee she still looks exhausted. I want our little girl back.” Natasha nods and kisses Wandas forehead, and thinks of a plan to help you take a break. 
What the women were not expecting was you to come out of your room. Tears were pooled in your eyes and you looked so tired. They sat up a little bit and looked at each other, knowing that they need to bring their little out of her shell. “Hi Angel, its good to see you out of your room.” Wanda says, reaching out her hands to you. 
As you see them happy to see you, the dam breaks and you let out a small sob as tears fall down your cheeks. Wanda gently pulls you to sit in between her and Nat and she rubs your back to comfort you. 
“Oh angel, shh, its ok, your mommies are here.” Wanda whispers, looking to Nat with the look. She reaches into the drawer next to the couch and brings out your teddy bear pacifier. She doesn’t push it on you just yet, wanting you to come out when you felt ready. 
“Doll, can you tell us what’s wrong?” Natasha asks you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I- I just can’t t-t-take it anymore. Mr. Jordan j-just wants to see me suffer. He doesn’t want m-me to succeed.” Your tears fall onto your shirt, and you clench your fists in your lap. “He told me to redo a paper four times, and I still can’t tell what’s wrong with it. I ran it th-through grammar check after grammar check and he just throws it in his digital trash bin like its a line scribbled by a 2 year old. I- I want to quit school, Im so done!” 
Wanda looks down at you with sad eyes, and says “Its alright Angel, can you tell mommy what you need?” She tries to coax you into your little space, knowing you need it more than they do. Natasha lays you back on the couch and cups your cheek. “You can trust us, doll. Can you talk to your mommies so we can help?” 
Their voices become a little higher, the type of tone they talk to you with when you go into your little space. You subconsciously took note of this, and the little voice inside your head whispers for you to let go. You curl in on yourself as you let your little space take over. 
“Wanna cuddle... M-maybe baf?” Your pronunciation is a little wonky, now that you are falling into your little space by the second. Nat smiles and shows you your paci. Your eyes light up and you happily open your mouth as she puts the binkie to your lips. Wanda smiles and kisses your forehead as you lay against her, Natasha pulling you both into her lap on the big couch. 
“Such a good little doll, your mommies got you, you’ll be ok.” Natasha whispers, running her fingers through your tangled hair, being careful not to pull too hard on getting the knots out. Wanda gently tickles your arm to relax you, and your eyes become heavy. 
“Seepy, so seepy…” You whisper passed the pacifier in your mouth, and Natasha looks down at you. “Sleep little doll, we’ve got you, and you’re in a safe place. Not even mean Mr. Jordan can get you here.” She smiles at your little giggle, knowing that your professor is your biggest enemy when you are little. 
As the two women calm you down and wipe your tears, Wanda uses her telepathic powers to start the bathtub from the couch. Your ears perk at the sound of the running water, but you fall back asleep in her arms. “We’ll get you in the bath when you wake up, doll. Ok?” You nod in your sleep, sniffling every now and then but finally able to calm down in your mommies arms. 
It was just what you needed in the hardest and most stressful week of your college life. Relaxing in your girlfriend's arms in a mental place that makes you feel safe. You are so grateful for them, and couldn’t thank them enough. Well, maybe when you are back in your big space you could find a way to thank them. For now, you are happy and getting better, just as your mommies wanted to help you. 
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wandasgf · 1 year
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A CHANCE ENCOUNTER. mdni.
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pairings: dark!wanda maximoff x f!reader
synopsis: you really should have just gone to kate's when you thought something was wrong, especially with the scarlet witch on the loose
warnings: serial killer!wanda, graphic violence !!!, blood, murder, two (2) deaths, knives, dacryphilia, degradation, allusion to petplay, slightly suggestive
a/n: wanda talks about dyeing reader's hair blonde, if you're already blonde just ignore that...
wc: 3.7k
pt 2. pt. 3
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It was a typical day for you, you’d gone to work, just like normal. Your shift today was with one of your closest friends, Kate. You both worked at a local bakery in your relatively small town. Despite the small population of the town, the bakery was rather busy and whenever tourists passed through it was their first choice for somewhere to grab a snack at. 
You had hung out with Yelena, your best friend since first grade, and caught up on the details of your collective and separate lives until the blonde girl had to go, and now you were on your way home. You had always preferred walking over driving or even taking the bus, you always thought it was nicer to ‘stop and smell the roses’ as other people would say. You preferred to take your time getting to places which, unfortunately, was why you were almost always late. So it was no surprise that you were late for dinner at your parents’ house, it was already getting dark when you made the turn onto the road where their house was. 
Actually, it was a little strange that your parents hadn’t called to ask if you were on your way, but you figured they had just lost track of time. Your mother often did when she was cooking and your father never seemed to know what time it was unless it related to work. 
There was an eerie silence as you arrived home, the gate at the bottom of the driveway hanging open and your front door ajar. A chill ran down your spine as you remembered one of the news headlines from that morning: 'Lawyer, 55, Murdered in His Home Last Night’. You convinced yourself it was just because of the wind and you were being paranoid for no reason. But the air was still that night and you knew it. 
The murdered lawyer had been a colleague of your father’s. You had met him once at some sort of banquet and he was a little odd, maybe a little over affectionate towards you, who he had only just met, but certainly not somebody someone would want to murder. You make your way up the walkway to your parents’ house. You take a hesitant look around before slowly pushing the front door the rest of the way open and shrugging when nothing seems out of place. Your father must have forgotten to close the door when he got home from work that afternoon. You’re surprised your mother hadn’t realized and scolded him for it yet. 
You close the door behind you, but it doesn't quite close all the way, like there was something keeping it from shutting properly. It slowly opens back up. You don’t notice as you set your bag down and make your way towards the kitchen, body moving on autopilot to get some of the dinner you knew your parents would have left out for you, but you anxiously clenched and unclenched your fists. Something was wrong and you could feel it. Somebody else was in the house.
You freeze, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, your phone slipping from your hand and clattering onto the ground. The sight in front of you should have made you run or even scream, but instead it just took the air from your lungs. It was horrifying, the scene in front of you, both of your parents were tied to chairs, the front of their shirts stained with their own and even each other's blood, and there was a woman standing over them with a knife in one of her hands. She was tall, probably about 5’7, and slender, her arms were muscular and she had a very sinister presence. Without thinking your father looked towards you, weakly calling out your name, probably as a sort of warning, but it was a mistake on his part and he should have just kept his mouth shut. If your phone hitting the ground hadn’t alerted her of your presence, your father surely did.
 The unknown woman turns, a sick smile on her face as she looks you up and down, almost like a predator sizing up its prey, it makes you want to puke. “And who are you?” The woman’s voice is almost a purr, and you can’t seem to get yourself to answer, your voice stuck in your throat as you look at the other woman. You don’t think you’ve ever been so terrified in your entire life, and Yelena made you go see all the new horror films with her.
You hated horror films.
The woman cocked her head, it seemed she had scared you so much that you forgot how to speak. How cute. Well, she didn’t mind anyway, she was intent on not leaving any witnesses and victims who didn’t scream pleased her just as much as the ones who did. “Aw, are you scared darling? Well, I’ll go first and then maybe you’ll gain some courage. I’m the Scarlet Witch, have you heard of me?”
 The color from your face drained almost instantly, you knew that name. It was all over the news. The Scarlet Witch was the name that the Westview police department gave to a killer who had been terrorizing the town. The Scarlet Witch was a murderer. It clicked for you that Scarlet was probably the exact same person who killed your father’s colleague. You didn’t get the chance to read the whole article and you didn’t want to die, but oh god, you were going to die, weren’t you? Scarlet had been waiting for you to get home so she could kill all of you, and no one ever escapes Scarlet. You should have gone to Kate’s apartment after hanging out with Yelena because oh god now you were going to die…
During your silent panic, you had started crying, and Wanda thought you looked simply delectable. Deciding to leave you to your thoughts, she turned back to your parents, she knew you wouldn’t run even if she didn’t keep an eye on you, you were too scared. And even if you did, she’d catch you. There was a playful smile on her lips as she twirled the already blood soaked knife around her fingers. “Your daughter is really very pretty, you know” she began, her playful smile turning into a dangerous one, “would you like to make a bargain? I know you love doing that with others.” She was almost daring them to say no, to give her a reason to plunge the knife she was holding into their chests as if she needed one. She didn’t, but she liked to make them feel like they were playing a game, like their decisions had any impact at all towards how this encounter would turn out. 
When all she gets is a fearful shake of the head from your father, she rolls her eyes and her smile drops before she plunges the knife between two of his ribs, narrowly missing his heart. She grins when the older man screams out in agony before beginning to twist the knife, blood steadily pouring out of the wound. “I didn’t even tell you what the bargain was. And I really don’t like to repeat myself, I don’t think anyone does, but I’ll ask again and let you change your answer if you want.” When he shakes his head again Wanda clenches her jaw before taking the knife out and hitting his forehead with the handle end of the knife, enjoying the crack of his skull. When he lets out a groan she swiftly flips the knife around before plunging it into the same spot, watching as blood steadily pours from the wound. She really didn’t like when people told her no.
She pulls the knife from your father’s forehead before turning to your mother, a sadistic smile on her face. “I don’t suppose you’ll give me the right answer, will you?” The question was rhetorical of course as she plunges the knife into the woman’s chest before even allowing her the time to properly process the question, hearing her scream in agony before slitting her throat, the noise quickly dying down into a gurgling.
Wanda steps back to admire her work, the front of her clothes practically soaked in blood, it was messy but she was always proud of the work she did.
Wanda finally turns back toward you, eyeing you as she thinks to herself. She really didn’t want to murder you, torture maybe, but she didn’t want to kill you. After all, it was your parents who took part in the corruption of the town, not you… Well, she supposes she’ll just have to take you home with her, a win-win situation, you didn’t die and she got herself a pretty new pet. She noted how you looked absolutely terrified and kept your eyes mostly towards the ground, she didn’t blame you really, but it wasn’t something she liked. Well, she’d just have to fix that later, wouldn’t she? She couldn’t have a pet that wouldn’t even look at her.
You were still frozen in place, eyes darting between your parents’ corpses, the Scarlet Witch, and the floor. You were shaking slightly, your bottom lip quivering as you tried to keep yourself from crying. You can’t believe this had just happened, maybe this was just a nightmare? What did your parents do to deserve this? Nothing, that’s what. Well, as far as you know they didn’t deserve it. And oh god the Scarlet Witch was staring at you now, that meant you were next, didn’t it? Tears start falling down your face once more. 
“Aren’t you precious?” Wanda coos, walking towards you, she wasn’t that far, only a few steps away, so you couldn’t get away even if you tried. You want to run, to hide, to do anything, but your brain can’t seem to get your body to move and now Wanda is standing right in front of you and you feel like you’re going to sob. 
You whimper as Wanda brings her hand up and puts her finger under your chin, tilting your head upward to make you look at her. A sick smile makes its way onto Wanda’s face as she looks at you, she’s looking at you as if she can see your thoughts and it makes your stomach churn. If this were a normal encounter you might have found Wanda attractive, maybe even asked for her number if you could work up the courage. But all you can think of right now is that your parents are dead and that this murderer wants you to be next, and suddenly Wanda isn’t as attractive anymore. You’re not expecting Wanda to reach for a cloth from her back pocket and try to smother you, or you think she’s trying to smother you, the cloth smells almost sweet and a little like alcohol. You can feel yourself starting to get drowsy, your eyelids half closed.
 It takes about five minutes for you to fall unconscious and Wanda lets out a pleased hum when you do, tucking the cloth back into her back pocket and picking you up. Chloroform wasn’t her favorite sedative, it always took too long, but this was a bit of an impromptu visit and she wasn’t exactly expecting to want or need a sedative. She always kept one just in case, you could never be too prepared. Wanda looks around, making sure she’s not forgetting anything before slipping her gloves off and placing them in her back pocket as well. She walks out of the house, glad you had forgotten to close the door when you came in, it would’ve been annoying to have to try and maneuver your limp hand to twist the door knob so that she wouldn’t leave any prints.
She has you in a princess carry, the position giving off more of a ‘my girlfriend drank a little too much’ vibe rather than giving away that you were sedated. Wanda had parked a little ways down the road, not too close to your parents’ house but not too far away either. She unlocks the car, opening the back passenger's side door and carefully maneuvering you inside. She was playing the part of caring girlfriend for anyone who was watching, she couldn't just toss you back there haphazardly, it was suspicious. There's a fond, albeit fake, smile on her face when she closes the door and circles around the car to get into the driver's seat. It wasn't too long of a drive to her house, about maybe two and a half hours if she was speeding the whole way and three if she didn't want to get pulled over. For obvious reasons, today was one of those three hour drive days.
When you wake up you let out something akin to a little whine as you stretch, trying to cover your eyes to shield them from the light and huffing when you’re stopped by something tugging back on your wrist. You furrow your eyebrows before realizing you’re not laying in your warm bed under all of your blankets with your plushies, in fact, what you’re laying on is quite cold and hard… 
You shoot up when you remember the events that led up to this point and you frantically look around the room, eyes darting towards the corner of the room when you hear a chuckle. Wanda is sitting in an armchair in front of a desk that looks to have a bunch of computer monitors on it, a security system she had set up, but you didn’t need to know that. “Don’t be scared, little doll. I only hurt the bad people, remember? And as far as I know, there’s no reason for me to hurt you.” Has Wanda said that to you before? You can’t remember, not with your mind racing and your head spinning. You’re starting to panic again, knowing that you’re alone with the Scarlet Witch god knows where and there’s very little chance of anyone ever finding you here. You don’t know how long you’d been out or how long you’ve been here, but you do know that Wanda is watching you from across the room like you’re some sort of toy for her to play with.
“Why don’t we try introductions again? I’m Wanda, would you like to tell me your name now?” You hear the Scarlet Witch, now known as Wanda say, and it’s phrased as a question, but you know it really isn’t one. “Y-Y/n.” It takes a bit longer than Wanda would’ve liked and it comes out as a whisper, but it’s still loud enough to be heard. “My, what a pretty name.” Wanda muses. She knew that your parents had a daughter from her research on her most recent victims, but you were rather good at keeping most details about yourself private, unlike your parents. 
Now, Wanda wouldn’t normally say her real name, but she knows you won’t be leaving any time soon, she’d make sure of that. And by the time she lets you go outside, your worst nightmare would be letting people know Wanda’s real name and getting her caught. She’s going to make you need her.
“Do you want to watch something fun, sweet girl?” Wanda asks, not waiting for an answer before pressing a button on a small black remote. A large television screen mounted on the wall you hadn’t noticed before clicks on. The screen displays a live news broadcast depicting, in much less detail than Wanda thinks gives it justice, what had happened to your family along with a description of what you look like as the news broadcaster says you’re now missing. The next thing to come up on the screen was a sobbing Kate, begging anyone and everyone to help find her best friend. She looked desperate, really, it made Wanda chuckle and you start to cry.
“You know, that picture of you looks really cute and you do look good with y/h/c, but I think you’d suit blonde much better so I picked up some things from the store on our way home while you were asleep.” Wanda smiles, holding up a box of blonde hair dye. “We can’t risk having anyone recognize you, can we, little doll? Especially not your little friend. She is your friend, right? Or is that your little girlfriend?” Wanda teases. “Well. I can always get rid of her if she decides to come looking because she misses you too much. She doesn’t look too difficult to lure out here.” She’s teasing of course, wanting to elicit a reaction out of you, she’d likely leave Kate alone as long as she doesn’t get too close. And she most definitely won’t. “N-No! Please don’t, leave Kate alone…” You trail off, realizing you essentially just yelled at Wanda. 
Wanda arches an eyebrow, amused at how the confidence seemed to drain from you. “Hm, I don’t know. You know, she is rather pretty, actually, it would be a waste to kill such a pretty girl. Maybe I’d just bring her to the guest room, I’m sure training two dolls wouldn’t be too hard.” She says, enjoying how you seem to panic at the prospect of Wanda kidnapping her friend. “Ah, I have more important people to deal with anyway. But first, why don’t we go get you cleaned up.” Wanda stands up from the chair and turns off the television. She walks over to you and unhooks the cuffs around your wrists from the wall. “Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom.” 
She stands you up and leads you out of the room with a hand on your back. Wanda’s being oddly nice to you and you can tell, you know that means that something bad must be coming because it’s such a stark contrast from the Wanda you saw back at your house and you can’t help but shudder at the thought. As you both walk through the house, you note that there’s a door in the kitchen that leads to the backyard, but you don’t know where the front door is. You also notice that there are a lot of doors in the house in general, you don’t know if you want to know where they go or not.
When they get to the bathroom, Wanda tells you to stay put before going to get towels and fresh clothes. She can’t have you wearing the same clothes you went missing in, and trusting that you’re too scared to even attempt to escape right now, she doesn’t worry too much. You, however, wait a few seconds before taking this as your opportunity to escape and run back towards the kitchen and out of the house into the backyard. When you get outside, you notice how dark it is right now and you almost curse, but don’t want to waste any time so you look around briefly before running into the woods, thinking Wanda won’t be able to find you as quickly if you’re both lost in the trees. 
Wanda curses when she gets back and finds that you’re gone, it had only been about a minute and a half so you couldn’t have gotten too far. She storms into the kitchen and grabs a rather large knife before walking outside, seeing footprints in the grass. The green blades squished where you had stepped on them. She clicks her tongue before walking into the woods, “Y/n darling, come out, come out wherever you are.” She sings, dragging the flat of the knife against the tree bark. 
You flinch as you hear Wanda’s voice echo through the trees, trying to keep up your pace. You never were a good runner. You skid to a stop as you almost ran off the side of a rock bank. Of course Wanda had to live close to nothing but the ocean. A pretty view, but you’d have to admire it later. You were panicking now, knowing Wanda could easily find you having just run in a fairly straight line. Your eyes widen when you hear a tree branch snap and footsteps coming your way. In a panic you try to climb a tree only to have Wanda pull you down by your ankle and land on the ground. 
“Got you.” Wanda chuckles and you audibly gulp in fear. You whimper as she grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs you up off of the ground. You’re quiet as Wanda quite literally starts to drag you back toward the house by your hair, only letting out pained whimpers when she’d tug too hard. “And to think I was trying to be nice with you. You should be grateful that you’re not already dead and this is what I get in return? What made you think this was a good idea, huh, dumb girl? You thought I wouldn’t catch you? What a stupid, stupid girl.” Wanda says, shaking her head, her tone angry.
When you don’t answer, she tugs harder, eliciting a whimper from the yor lips. “Answer me.” She demands, almost daring you not to. “I– I don’t know, I’m sorry.” You cry, knowing you were going to regret trying to escape. Wanda was pulling really hard on your hair and you think you’d do almost anything to get it to stop. “Yeah, you’re going to be.” Wanda almost growls, dragging you out of the woods and through the backyard. “Aw, does it hurt? Are you crying?” She mocks, noticing the sniffling and the tears falling down your face. “Maybe next time you won’t decide that your clearly empty head can make smart decisions.” She almost throws open the door into the kitchen and steadily makes her way down into the basement, dragging you with her, before throwing you to the ground and locking the door behind you. “Now, let’s have some real fun, shall we?” Wanda grins, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she takes the knife from where she had shoved it in her back pocket.
810 notes · View notes
ask-the-pale-elf · 5 months
Note
"Astarion? What would you say if one day I came back to the camp with a raccoon?" She asked, clearly hiding something in her jacket.
(Astarion makes a perception check.)
(Perception Check: Successful!)
The violent wriggling from within your jacket caught the vampire spawn's scarlet eyes. With a curl of lips and a long alabaster finger, Astarion poked the wriggling mass against your jacket. In response, the mass thrashed a bit more against you.
"Darling, is that a fiend in your jacket or are you just happy to see me~?" the rogue jests.
He couldn't help but chortle at your current predicament as he placed his hand upon his chest. "I'm not one for pets, they're wastes of perfectly good snacks and they get fleas everywhere!" He shivered in disgust at the thought.
However, this could be a good opportunity, "But just this once... I could be persuaded."
A mischievous smirk crept onto his perfectly sculpted face, "If your new little friend here, greets our fellow companions. I think it would a most welcome addition to the camp."
"And I think Gale would just love a new, rabid, little friend! I mean his beard is just as groomed as their fur. Haha!"
As he calmed down from his self-induced laughter, Astarion poked the wriggling mass once more, "Make sure to keep your friend here away from my tent, I can't guarantee if it'll be quite as energetic afterwards."
He flashed his fangs with a smile.
129 notes · View notes
bwabys-scenarios · 9 months
Text
Reunited
Part 33
Illumi x Reader x Feitan(AND KURAPIKA??!!)
part 32
part 34
warnings: Kurapika cops a feel and is mad horny for reader 😭🙏
taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1 @whorermoviestar @fabitheraven @ashdownunderscorebeloved @astresoleil @ranzxki @smuttysammie22 @yandere-enthusiast @lostsomewhereinthegarden
if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)
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(Name) woke up to a few new messages on her phone.
Killua: Hey, we’re meeting up with Kurapika today, you want to tag along? We’re having a picnic.
Gon: (Name) can you bring some snacks? Killua is too shy to ask!
Pretty Boy🫶: Meet us at the park for a picnic.
(Name) giggled. ‘They’re all so cute.” She texted them all back quickly.
Strawberries: Yes, I’ll see you there!
She stood up and stretched. There was about an hour until they’d have to to meet up, meaning she had plenty of time to pack up a basket of goodies.
(Name) looked over her closet to find something suitable to wear. It was a picnic, so her choice was easy.
She pulled on a long blue sundress, pulling it over her head. She spun around in front of the mirror, smiling at her appearance. It hugged her curves just right.
She paired her look with a straw hat and a white cardigan with a yellow daisy pattern.
Once her basket was full of goodies, (Name) left her condo and began her walk to the park.
——————
She spotted Gon and Killua quickly once she entered the park.
“Hey!”
(Name) jogged over, holding her heavy basket with both hands. Killua jumped up quickly, his eyes lighting up.
“(Name), you’re-“
He cleared his throat. “You’re here. That’s nice.”
She giggled and ruffled his hair, the boy leaning into her touch with a huff. “I’m happy to see you too, Killua.
Gon jumped up and gave her a hug. “Do I smell baked goods?”
(Name) nodded, cracking her basket open to let the smell of fresh pastries fill the air. “Yep!”
She laid out a picnic blanket before setting out the treats, Gon and Killua adding the several different foods they’d brought as well.
“Go head boys, dig in.”
They didn’t need to be told twice, instantly stuffing their faces with the various foods available on the picnic blanket.
(Name) couldn’t help but laugh. It was nice to see them be so carefree and innocent after the harrowing past few days.
“Kurapika!”
Gon spat his food into Killua’s face and jumped up to run towards the blonde. It took (Name) a moment to process this information, the girl standing slowly before finally turning around.
Gon and him talked for a moment before the young boy had a pie shoved in his face by Killua. Kurapika laughed as the two chased each other around the park.
Then his eyes landed on (Name).
His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. She looked gorgeous in the afternoon sun, smiling at him with tears brimming on her eyes.
“Kurapika…”
He didn’t think, just walked forward with his eyes trained on her. Before either of them could process what was happening, he was pulling her close to him and pressing his lips to hers.
The two boys froze, staring at the pair.
(Name)’s eyes went wide with shock. Kurapika pulled away after a moment, looking down at her with those scarlet eyes.
“(Name), I…”
He finally processed what he had done, his face as red as his eyes. He began to back away, but (Name) pulled him back into a hug.
She didn’t speak, only holding onto him. He melted into her embrace.
When she pulled back, she didn’t look angry or upset, just… surprised. Her face had grown hot.
“Kurapika, that was… my first kiss.”
She buried her face in his chest, flustered. He raised his hand to run his hand over her hair. “My apologies for stealing your first kiss, (Name). I just… couldn’t control myself.”
He pushed her back and tilted her chin up, stealing another kiss.
Gon and Killua audibly gasped, looking to each other the running over to the pair.
Kurapika pulled away with a soft look in his eyes, licking his lips. “You taste so sweet, (Name). I think I want to kiss you aga-“
Gon and Killua tackled the man, sending him falling to the grass.
“Kurapika you pervert!” Killua yelled, bonking him on the head. Gon jumped up quickly to push (Name) away.
“You don’t kiss women randomly! What if she was saving that kiss for someone!? Aunt Mito said first kisses are important to girls!”
(Name) sighed and swatted at Gon’s hands. “Boys it’s fine, I didn’t mind at all.”
She offered Kurapika her hand, which he took without a second thought. (Name) pulled him to his feet, the man instantly reaching out and kissing her again.
This time it lasted longer, his hands slipping to her waist to pull her in closer. She felt his tongue press against her lips before she pushed him back.
“K-Kurapika… that’s enough for now…”
‘For now…’ he thought, staring down at her with half lidded eyes. Now that he thought the spiders were dead, he much better about his feelings for her. He’d find his clans eyes, and ask her to be his.
“I think I love you…”
(Name)’s jaw dropped at his words, shyly hiding behind Killua. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any feelings for him, but such a sweet confession after he’d kissed her so lovingly was making her brain short circuit.
“You’re going to make her pass out. Look, she’s flustered.” Killua said with a huff.
Kurapika couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t rejecting his advances, and just from her face he could tell she wasn’t unhappy that he kissed her.
“Alright. Let’s enjoy our picnic, shall we?”
Kurapika watched her the entire time, sighing softly when she avoided his gaze. ‘She’s so cute. I want to kiss her again… and more.’
His cheeks went red when he thought this, quickly shaking the thought from his mind. He couldn’t think of that, no, not right now.
Once they finished their picnic, Kurapika helped (Name) pack up her basket and carried it for her. It was the least he could do.
——————
The group of five met up at at a hotel, all of them beaming at each other.
“It’s been a while since we were all together last!” Gon stated, his smile wide.
“Yeah!”
Leorio ruffled (Name)’s hair, the girl playfully smacking his hand away.
The group began walking towards the elevators, Leorio and Gon talking about someone named Zepile. Leorio turned to look at Kurapika.
“Anyway… you’ve got this intensity about you… you seem more intimidating now.”
The blonde tilted his head. “Really? You don’t seem to have changed much.”
“And now you’re more annoying too!!”
“He also confessed his love for (Name) and kissed her like 50 times.” Killua said, holding onto (Name)‘s sleeve.
“HE WHAT!?”
(Name) groaned, hiding her face in her hands. Kurapika didn’t seem embarrassed at all, putting a hand on (Name)’s shoulder. “I kissed her, not 50 times, but more than once.”
Leorio and Kurapika stared at each other for a moment.
“And you keep calling ME the pervert- OW!”
Kurapika hit him over the head as they entered the elevator.
“Oh, I heard you defeated a member of the Troupe.”
(Name) stopped paying attention now, quickly pulling a pair of headphones over her ears. It was all so overstimulating. She could still feel the soft touch of Kurapika’s lips on hers.
They quickly reached their destination, (Name) not noticing until she was physically pulled out of the elevator by Kurapika.
They entered the hotel room, quickly seeing that there wouldn’t be enough seats for everyone.
“I’ll stand, it’s no big-“
She was quickly pulled into Kurapika’s lap without another word, earning the blonde some looks from their friends.
“No need for that. You can sit here.”
Unlike Feitan, he was quick to pull her close and wrap his hands around her waist without hesitation. Kurapika was making his feelings extremely clear to her.
He began to explain his nen and the reason it was so strong.
“Restraint and vow?” Gon asked.
“Yes. Nen is strongly affected by your mental state. The stronger your resolve, the more power you receive. However, you also incur a big risk at the same time. In return for Nen power, I vowed to use it against the spiders alone. I established a rule for myself.”
“What’s the rule?” Leorio asked.
“If I use my chains on one who isn’t a spider, I will forfeit my life.”
(Name) hand shot to his arm, her eyes gone wide. “You what? Kurapika…”
The blonde rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “There is a nen blade pointed at my heart. If I break the rule, that blade will pierce my heart, killing me. This is the rule that shows my resolve. Restraint and vow. My power is the product of pure hatred. It only works on the spiders.”
(Name) stared at him with tears in her eyes, not even able to speak. He gently wiped them away as he continued talking. “I’m telling you because I trust you. Don’t tell anyone else.”
Killua stood up. “Why… why would you tell us something so important?!”
Kurapika tilted his head, surprised. “I’m not sure. Wit their leader’s death, I must have relaxed.”
“It’ll be fine if we keep our mouths shut.” Leorio said, trying to calm the white haired boy down.
“It’s too dangerous. One of the surviving members can read minds. If they find out, Kurapika won’t be able to beat them!”
“But she didn’t learn anything last time.”
“That’s because we didn’t know Kurapika was the chain user.”
(Name)’s lip quivered, Kurapika rubbing soothing circles into her back.
“Then we just have to stay away from them. They’ve already checked you, so they think you’re clean.”
“But there’s also this guy called Nobunaga.”
(Name) eyes went wide. ‘Did he just say Nobunaga? Are they talking about…’
“He’s especially dangerous, he’s looking for Kurapika and still trying to chase us down.”
(Name) felt Kurapika tense under her, his hands gripping onto her hips harshly.
“Is he aware that you guys know Kurapika?”
“No…”
“Then it’s okay! As long as no one around the mind reader knows Kurapika, you’re safe.”
Kurapika glanced down at (Name) before speaking. “Well, I’ve also been in contact with Hisoka, and so has (Name).”
“What?”
“Hisoka?”
“He knows that I am the chain user. We made a pact, but his target, the leader of the spiders, is now dead. So I don’t know what he’ll do.”
The five continued to speak as rain started to pour down outside. Killua had been trying to convince Kurapika to go after the remaining members while they were still in York New.
“Excuse me.”
(Name) stood up to walk to the bathroom, Kurapika watching as she left with lovesick eyes. Once she was gone, Kurapika seemed to consider Killua’s words.
“They could be making an escape as we speak. We don’t have time for too much thought.”
“The woman you mentioned is certainly a threat… But since their leader is dead, I’ll do we Gon says, and focus on recovering my brethren’s eyes.”
“Seriously!?”
“Yes. I would also like to begin courting (Name). I think I’ve fallen in love with her.”
“Are you sure?”
“Kurapika’s made up his mind. We can’t force him to change it.”
Killua sat down, defeated.
“Sorry, Killua. Thank you for the valuable information.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Kurapika didn’t really care too much about who had texted him, he was still on cloud 9 after confessing earlier.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the message.
“It’s from Hisoka…”
(Name) came sprinting into the room when she felt Kurapika’s aura go from calm to intense anger.
“The bodies were fakes…”
She attempted to comfort him with a hand on his shoulder, the man glancing her way before pushing her hand off.
(Name) didn’t take offense, running towards the kitchen to grab him a glass of water to calm down.
When she came back, Kurapika was a bit calmer.
“The troupe is from Meteor City…”
(Name) paused in the doorway, dropping the cup at the mention of the city.
“(Name)!”
Kurapika stood and walked over, wincing as she began to pick up the shattered glass.
“(Name), stop.”
He smacked her hands away, pulling her now cut hands towards away and towards Leorio.
“She’s cut. Leorio can you-“
(Name) didn’t say anything, only closing her hands then opening them, the only hint that she’d been hurt was the blood staining her palms.
The two stared down at her with shocked expressions.
“How-“
She sighed. “It’s my nen. I’m a healer.”
Kurapika sat down with her in his lap again, his knee bouncing. “I… I am also from Meteor City.”
The four didn’t so much as breathe with her admission, Kurapika staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re… from Meteor City? But you grew up in Padokea, right?”
(Name) sighed. “It’s… it’s a long story that shouldn’t be shared in front of children.”
The two boys were shooed out of the room and (Name) hesitantly shared her tale. It was easier to tell them, due to how close they all were, but it still left her feeling awful.
Kurapika’s eyes were red, pulling (Name) against him so tight she could barely breathe. He shook with anger, Leorio gritting his teeth.
“(Name).”
He tilted her chin to look up at him, his eyes boring into hers intensely.
“The monsters that hurt you will be dealt with by my own hands. I will not rest until you are avenged.”
His intensity would have been terrifying to most, but (Name) felt safe in his arms. Kurapika let her cry against his chest, rubbing a trembling hand over her head.
Kurapika considered it his duty to avenge the woman he loved. She had given him so much, it was only fair he took this heavy burden off her shoulders.
The two boys walked in, Killua quickly joining (Name)’s side and hugging her. He was crying too, not bothering to hide his anguish.
“We… we heard everything.” Gon said, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry (Name). That… that was awful.”
She cried, Kurapika holding rubbing circles into her hips. Even through her pain, she dried Killua’s tears and gave him a soft smile.
“I didn’t want any of you to know. It’s… it’s scary. Disgusting. I didn’t want any of you to think differently of me…”
Kurapika held her even closer. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, (Name). Nothing that happened to you was your fault. You are still the woman I love, nothing has changed.”
He caressed her cheek, internally seething. He needed to be calm, now. (Name) needed his comfort, and he was more than willing to give in to her.
She left to go calm down in one of the bedrooms, putting a pair of headphones over her ears as the group talked in the living room. Kurapika promised he wouldn’t take long, and would hold her as long as she wanted when he was done speaking with the group.
———————
Kurapika opened the door to the room, his eyes softening when he spot (Name) curled up on the bed. She hadn’t heard him come in due to her headphones.
He walked forward and placed a hand on her’s.
“(Name)? Can you hear me?”
She pulled her headphones off when he touched her. “Hmm?”
He sat down on the bed next to her. “We’re going to be moving around a bit. I have to go talk to the community to see if they have any useful information.”
She perked up, moving to sit next to him. “So you’ll be busy?”
He smiled. “Not for a bit. I’ll be leaving to ask in thirty minutes. And after that, I may be free for a while more.”
(Name) nodded. “I see. I feel like I’ve barely gotten to see you today. It’s only 1 pm, and we met at 12 pm.”
He sighed. “Yes, I apologize for that. Once the auction is over and we’ve completed whatever plan we set, I should have some time to spend with you.”
“Don’t you mean with all of us?”
He shook his head and smiled down at her. “No, (Name). I want to spend more time with you. Longer than the others.”
She thought back to his confession and her face became warm. “I… I want to spend more time with you as well.”
He lied down on the bed, pulling her down with him. “(Name), do you love me? I apologize for asking you so frankly, and you don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable, but-“
She put a finger to his lips. “I do feel… something for you. As a friend, yes I do love you. Dearly. I do feel something more for you than friendship, but…”
He shook his head. “That’s all I needed to hear. Knowing you feel more for me than friendship makes me incredibly happy.”
His lips pressed against hers again, this time, (Name) allowed his tongue to explore her mouth. It was hard to think when he was slowly moving to pin her to the bed, his hands fumbling with her cardigan. He slipped it off and began pulling her sundress down.
“(Name), I want you. Desperately…”
She gasped, her hands flying out to stop his hands. “K-Kurapika! Not… not right now.”
He stopped, his breath coming out in short pants. She looked gorgeous underneath him, her face hot and her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress. He quickly regained his composure and looked away as she fixed her dress.
“Does that imply that I can have you later?”
He ran a finger down her side, stopping when he felt her shiver. Kurapika was enjoying her reactions to his touch.
“… perhaps. If you don’t get yourself killed.”
He chuckled at her words and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll keep that in mind, angel.”
She jumped at the pet name, looking up at him with her pretty (e/c) eyes.
“A-angel?”
He smiled. “When I had that nightmare and you comforted me at the expense of your sleep, you reminded me of an angel. Kind and pure.”
Kurapika caressed her cheek. “I want to preserve that purity, but the dark part of me also wants to taint you, dirty you with my own hands.”
He stared down at her with those scarlet eyes she had come to love. “Would you still love me after taking your wings, angel?”
Before she could answer, he placed a hand over her mouth. “Shh. Don’t answer. Save it for later, when I make you mine.”
The two sat in silence for a while, Kurapika soaking in every second of skin to skin contact with (Name). She was his light, the moon that guided him through the darkness.
“Kurapika, can I… can I kiss you?”
He blinked and looked down at her, his eyes softening. “Please do.”
She placed a hand on his cheek and stood. He was still sat down on the bed, looking at her with lovesick eyes. She stopped forward and stood between his legs.
(Name) leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on his lips, the man instantly wrapping his arms around his waist to pull her closer. Her kiss was gentle and sweet, one that Kurapika would never forget as long as he lived.
When she pulled away, her eyes were half lidded. “Can you promise me something?”
He placed a hand on her cheek. “Anything.”
“Please… please promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You’re one of the most important people in my life, Kurapika.”
He contemplated pulling her in for another kiss, his eyes on her lips. “I promise. I’ll come back to you alive, alright?”
She nodded and pulled him into a hug, his head resting on her soft chest. “Please do.”
———————
(Name) left the room feeling confused and aroused.
‘Kurapika and I almost…’
She bit her lip as she followed Leorio and Kurapika to the elector. (Name) did feel something for Kurapika, yes, but there were two other men that were on her mind as well.
Feitan and Illumi.
The two of them were her close friends, and she had slowly developed feelings for them both. Unlike Kurapika, neither of them had explicitly returned those feelings.
She didn’t want to choose between any of them, not for a while. For now, she would follow Kurapika and give him the care and attention he needed as he attempted to avenge his clan.
Leorio and (Name) sat as Kurapika left to talk with the committee, the dark haired man looking at her curiously.
“So… you and Kurapika, huh?”
The girl became flustered immediately. “Kurapika and I, what?”
“You’re like… together now, right?”
She shook her head, twiddling her thumbs. “Not… not yet. I still have some thinking to do.”
He sighed. “Thought so. He sprung all of that on you pretty fast, and now he can’t keep his hands off of you. It must be confusing.”
She nodded, leaning her head against the table. “Yes but… I don’t dislike it. Kurapika is very sweet.”
Leorio ruffled her hair. “You two would make a cute couple, but be aware that he’s determined to finish his goals, at whatever cost. That cost may be you one day.”
She knew this, it was one of the reasons she was hesitant to accept his feelings. She knew he was telling the truth and truly did love her, but…
“Oh, how did it go?”
(Name) looked up when she heard Leorio’s voice, turning to see Kurapika approaching.
“I couldn’t get a straight answer. The community didn’t have any updates regarding the auction today.”
He smiled when (Name) stood next to him, reaching out to hold her hand.
“You should tell the the Troupe is still alive! Then the Mafia might rethink it.”
The blonde shook his head. “No, nothing will change. The community values its relationship with Meteor City. It’s safe to assume they will not attack the Troupe further.”
“Really?”
“But that wasn’t the information I wanted. My only concern is whether the auction will proceed as scheduled…”
“You’re not planning to intercept them, are you? That’s crazy… how can you confront them without mafia support!?”
“You have it wrong, Leorio. I never had any help from the mafia.”
(Name) squeezed his hand, giving him a concerned look. He didn’t look at her, but gave her hand a reassuring squeeze back. His attention was drawn away by Gon.
“Kurapika, let us help! We’re willing to do anything.”
The blonde frowned. “The reward was rescinded.”
“I know. I want to stop the Troupe, that hasn’t changed.”
Kurapika gave Gon his full attention, dropping (Name)‘s hand. “You’d be risking your lives.”
(Name) wanted to say something, but Kurapika continued talking.
“Okay, let’s put together a plan.”
“Uh-huh!”
She huffed. “I want to help t-“
“No.” They all said in unison. (Name) blinked, suddenly upset.
“Why not? If you all get to risk your lives for each other, why can’t I?”
Kurapika sighed. “You’re different, (Name). Your nen is purely support, so it wouldn’t be very helpful in th-“
“Leorio doesn’t even have nen, so that excuse won’t work on me.”
She put her hands on her hips and stared at him, her lips pursed. Even though his eye twitched in annoyance, he couldn’t help but find her determination adorable.
“Well, can you drive?”
She stared at him. “… no.”
Gon tilted his head. “Aren’t you 22?”
She groaned. “God you sound like my mom. I can’t get a license because I’m from Meteor City, and Im scared of driving.”
Kurapika placed a hand on her shoulder. “(Name), what do you bring to the table?”
She pulled out her dagger and was about to stab it into her arm to demonstrate her nen, but Kurapika was quick to grab it. She didn’t notice his eyes flash red for a moment before he quickly composed himself.
“Other than your nen ability, angel.”
The other three glanced at each other when he called her angel, (Name) huffing.
“I was trained by Illumi in martial arts. Anyone want to spar with me to prove a point? Or do I need to ask my friend to send the pictures of me handing Hisoka his pasty clown ass?”
“You fought Hisoka? And lived? Are you stupid?”
Killua pinched her cheek harshly, the girl whining. “Hey, he only broke a-“
She stopped suddenly, all their heads swiveling to stare at her.
“He what?”
Kurapika grabbed her chin and forced her to make eye contact with him. “What details did you leave out, (Name)?”
She puffed out her cheeks. “I don’t have to tel you. It’ll only stress you out.”
He smacked a hand over his forehead. “I’ll be stressed out nonetheless, angel. Just tell me and I promise I won’t be angry.”
(Name) glanced at Leorio, who just shrugged.
“He uh… broke my bones and um…”
She leaned forward to whisper into Kurapika’s ear. “He insinuated he wanted to… do things to me, and tried to take off my bra.”
Kurapika’s arms shot out to grip her shoulders so tight she winced. “He WHAT!?”
“You promised you wouldn’t be angry!”
“That’s before I knew the borderline pedophile clown threatened to assault you!”
Killua’s jaw dropped. “(Name). Why didn’t you tell us?”
She folded her arms against her chest. “I didn’t think it was that important. He didn’t do it.”
Her four friends groaned in unison.
“(Name), my angel, that is very serious. If I had known I wouldn’t have formed a pack with him.”
He rubbed a hand against his forehead. “This is another reason I don’t want you coming. I fear you may put yourself in harms way, and not even ask for help. It’s not guaranteed that one of us would be around to save you.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “That’s unfair. You’re assuming a lot.”
He sighed. “I have to. Any possibility of you getting hurt means a resounding no from me.”
She pouted up at him, the man not budging a bit.
“… fine. But at least let me stick around until you have to enact your plan…”
Kurapika shrugged. “I don’t see any issue with that.”
(Name) sat with the other four, pouting. As a precaution, (Name) had been asked to wear her headphones as they made their plans. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust her, they just couldn’t guarantee that their enemies would come after her.
If only they knew that their enemies viewed (Name) as one of their own.
Eventually Leorio and Killua stood up and started to walk away. (Name) took her headphones off, confused. “Why did they leave?”
Kurapika didn’t answer, only sliding her headphones back over her ears.
As an act of rebellion, (Name) turned her music off.
Kurapika began to explain his nen, summoning the chains on his hand. (Name) pretended to act oblivious.
“I’m not sure what all of that means, but you should be able to use your nen blade on me, right?”
“Yes.”
Gon nodded. “Go ahead. You can choose the rule to set.”
“I accept your resolve.”
(Name) threw off her headphones as Leorio and Killua appeared behind Kurapika.
“Can you make three of those blades?” Killua asked.
“Make it four.” (Name) corrected.
“You can rescind the rule once our mission is over, right?”
“Killua, (Name), Leorio!”
Kurapika pinched the girl’s cheek as Leorio continued speaking. “We had a little talk. And since we’re working together…”
“We should share the same fate.”
“What do you say?”
Kurapika sighed. “The answer to both questions is yes. But you four are wholly mistaken. I never had any intention of using my blades on any of you.”
“Then why endanger yourself by telling us your secret?”
“Gon, I wanted… No, I wanted to thank all of you for your resolve. Even if one of you ends up revealing my secret, I will have no regrets.”
He smiled, looking down. “I have good friends.”
“That’s not fair, Kurapika. You’re actually putting more pressure on us this way.”
“That was my goal.” He said with a smile.
“Oh, I get it now!” Gon laughed.
(Name) leaned her head against Kurapika, pouting.
“Well, I’ll head out then. Can’t waste any time.”
Both (Name) and Gon waved as he walked away. “Killua, be careful!”
“Yeah, I got this.”
—————
With the little time they had, (Name) and Kurapika sat across each other at the table in his room. He snacked on some of the baked goods she’s brought to the picnic.
“They’re good, (Name). How did you bake so many in such a short amount of time?”
She bit into a cookie. “Oh, I made these last night. I bake when I’m nervous.”
He frowned, placing his fork down. “Nervous? Why?”
“…”
(Name) took another bite of her cookie before answering.
“Well… I told you about the friend I was supposed to meet her, yes?”
Kurapika nodded slowly. “… the grumpy one?”
“Yes. He had some work here so he’s in town. He’s a part of a…”
She tilted her head. “I guess you could say they’re a group of… friends? Some of them also hail from Meteor City, so when I explained a bit of my story… they wanted to know more. People from Meteor City care for each other, even if it doesn’t seem like it.”
He nodded, signaling her to continue.
“The people that hurt me could still be active, so they asked me for any information I could give. To do that, they… had to learn about all the things I told you. My friend wasn’t there, so my biggest shame was revealed to a bunch of strangers. Of course, I agreed to it, but it doesn’t change the fact it was traumatizing to relive that.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “I see. That’s why you were nervous?”
She shook her head. “Not entirely. I… I had no one to talk with yesterday. It’s scary being alone with the memories of my past, so I baked to distract myself. It’s also the reason I’ve been wearing my headphones today. When it gets too quiet, I get overwhelmed.”
Kurapika looked down, guilt overcoming him. She’s been all alone with no one to hold her as the memories came flooding back. Of course she’s be a nervous wreck, he was just astonished she was okay enough to be talking to him right now.
‘She is strong. I just… I could never think about putting her in harms way.’
Kurapika kissed her hand. “(Name), after all this I would like to take you out on a date. Where would you like to go?”
She blushed. “Hmm… how about we go see a movie? Oh, or go to one of those cat cafes!”
He chuckled. “We can do both. I’m just glad you’re willing to go on a date with me, (Name).”
(Name) leaned her head on the table. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re a sweet guy, I don’t mind giving you a chance.”
He turned a light shade of pink at her words. “Really? I wouldn’t consider myself that sweet.”
She looked at him incredulously. “If you aren’t sweet then why do you treat me like I’m made of glass? You’re so gentle when you touch me. It’s different from my friend.”
Kurapika seemed both pleased and dismayed at her words. “He… touches you?”
His jealousy was poignant.
“A lot, really. Always rubbing my thigh, sleeping with me, holding my hand, grabbed my boobs in a dressing room…”
She sighed. “And I’m pretty sure he saw me naked when he sat in the bathroom while I showered.”
Kurapika’s eye twitched in annoyance. “Really? How… strange.”
(Name) crosses her legs. “Kurapika, you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
He pouted. “There’s nothing for me to be jealous of.”
She tilted her head before squishing her boobs together. “Oh really? Then you don’t wanna touch these?”
He stared down at her cleavage with his cheeks a bright shade of pink. “I didn’t say that…”
She giggled. “Mhm, that’s what I-“
He stood up and walked forward. “May I?”
“May you… what?”
He smiled down at he with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “May I touch you?”
She blinked, looking from him to his hands that hovered around her. Hesitantly, she gave him a quick nod, squishing her legs together.
He first started by placing his hands on her shoulders, trailing them halfway down her arms until they stopped right next to her breasts.
He glanced back at her before slowly cupping her chest. “Is this alright?”
His eyes were staring down at her, half lidded.
“Oh… um… yes.”
He gave her breasts a quick squeeze, seemingly mesmerized by the softness of them. Her little whimper didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde, a smirk pulling at his lips.
He thought about slipping his hands under her dress, but stopped himself. “Soft…”
Kurapika pulled his hands back. “You have my permission to touch me too, (Name). Anywhere you’d like.”
He kneeled in front of her, bringing the back of her hand to his lips. “You may not be mine yet, but I am yours. Completely.”
It was hard to resist him when he was looking at her with those pretty scarlet eyes, a testament to his intense feelings for her. She reached out to cup his cheek, the man instantly leaning into her touch.
“You’re really sweet, Kurapika. Thank you for loving me, I…”
He leaned forward, capturing her lips in another kiss. This one was quick, the blonde pulling away.
“Shh, you don’t have to say you love me yet. I would wait a lifetime for you.”
(Name) had never been treated so gently, so lovingly before. It wasn’t something she would take for granted.
She gave him a nod, ruffling his hair.
——————
They stayed together for a bit longer, Kurapika’s eyes never leaving her form. When it was time for him to enact his plan, he escorted (Name) to the hotel lobby and called her a cab.
“I’ll see you soon, (Name). Once this is over.”
He thought about kissing her again, but he didn’t. Kurapika wouldn’t push too hard, even though his heart yearned for her touch.
“You’ll be careful, right?”
He held open the cab’s door for. “I will.”
Kurapika closed the cab door and watched as it drove off, his heart hammering against his chest. She hadn’t rejected him outright, and had even kissed him herself.
He wasn’t sure if he should deserve to feel this happy, but let himself feel those butterflies for her.
‘I love her. So much.’
(Name) opened up her backpack and noticed a notification pop up on her phone. She’d silenced it when she’d left to visit Kurapika and the rest so she could really enjoy her time with them.
It was all from Feitan. (Name) scrolled up to the first message he’d sent.
Grumpy Pants: leaving town today. meet up before I do?
Grumpy Pants: (Name)?
Grumpy Pants: why did you leave condo?
Grumpy Pants: plans changed. text back soon as you can.
(Name) winced. She hoped she hadn’t worried him. He’d asked her to stay put in her apartment after all.
Strawberries: Hey Fei! Sorry, I was out with friends today! I’m glad you aren’t leaving today, that’s waaayyy too soon ><
(Name) jumped when her phone began ringing. She accepted the call quickly.
“Hello-“
“Where are you?”
(Name) froze. It was Feitan, but he sounded very… intense.
“I’m in a cab on my way to my apartment.”
“Good. Stay there. Dangerous, someone out for us.”
“Us?”
“Yes. You’re connected to me, means they could be after you too.”
(Name) sighed. “I see. I’ll be home soon. I-“
Her phone began to buzz, another call incoming.
“Sorry Fei, gotta take this.”
“(Name), d-“
She clicked on the other call.
“Illumi, hey.”
The man on the other end smiled. “I finally have time for you, (Name). I’ll be coming to pick you up for dinner in an hour.”
‘But Feitan said I needed to stay at my apartment…’
(Name) but her lip. ‘But… I miss Illumi so much…’
“Okay. See you then!”
(Name) hung up and placed her phone back in her bag. She sighed into her hands and looked down at her trembling legs.
Kurapika had worked her up a great deal when he’d groped her chest. She’d have to please herself in the shower before her meeting with Illumi if she wanted to be able to focus on anything.
192 notes · View notes
fatguarddog · 6 months
Text
Feedist Kinktober Day 18: Lost Doll
You found her discarded on your front porch, a beautiful old porcelain doll that was unlike any you had seen before. She had loose, blonde curls, adorable rosy cheeks, soft blue eyes with large lashes attached, a pretty scarlet dress in a Victorian style... nothing out of the ordinary really...
Except this doll was fat. Really fat.
Her round belly presented such a nice shape bulging out from her dress, even her arms and legs seemed to have been made all chubby and cute like little stuffed sausages. Something about her smile and unique physique compelled you to pick her up and take her inside; perhaps with a bit of polish she could be worth something? She could be some kind of rare make after all, so why not take care of her for a while.
So you did. You took her in and began to clean the dirt from her body and dress, neatening her up and giving the plump doll a comfortable seat to rest in while you figured out what to do with her.
Over the next week or so, you spent your free time researching old dolls and where yours could have come from. Despite not remembering grabbing a snack when you sat down to do so, you almost always found an array of wrappers and empty plates around you whenever you turned your laptop off. It wasn't like you could really stop doing it since you were hardly aware you'd even started... so soon you began plumping up all over.
Your meals seemed to get larger, you felt more compelled to stay sedentary for longer periods of time... and so your body simply ballooned, all the while your doll smiled back at you... and you could swear she was looking thinner by the day.
Your hair got curly despite you not doing anything to it, your plump cheeks gained a rosy glow, your eye lashes seemed longer and thicker than ever before and you found yourself wearing more old fashioned clothes... heavy old dresses that hugged your new curves and made you look so beautifully comfortable with all your new padding. As the changes ramped up, you never really questioned them... it just all felt so right deep inside. You grew larger and larger as your doll became slimmer and slimmer, taking on a more modern appearance.
One day, all dressed up in your finest and spread out on the couch, you stuffed yourself with a feast of food until you could hardly move. The weight of your bulging, fattened gut held you in place, but when you went to rub it, you realised you couldn't move at all, you were frozen in place aside from your eyes. Looking around the room, you realised you couldn't see your doll anymore, but you could hear footsteps approaching. As they grew closer, a hand came out from behind you and rubbed at your swollen belly through your scarlet dress.
"What a good girl you've been, you've broken my curse," a sultry feminine voice whispered in your ear, deepening the blush on your fat cheeks, "I can't believe how easy that was." The figure walked around in front of you, revealing herself. To your best bet, she looked as though she were a human version of the doll you found after going through all her changes, slimmed down and looking more from the current era. "You see I'm a witch whose spell backfired on her, I was trying to turn someone into my fat living doll, but something went wrong and I ended up as a fat little doll instead," she sighed and looked out the window. "I got tossed around a lot, most people threw me out after picking up on my magical fattening aura... but not you."
She smiled wickedly as she approaching you and sank her fingers into your stuffed, fattened flesh, making you whimper slightly through your paralysis.
"Seems all I needed to do to be free was have someone keep me long enough to accept the spell I'd intended to cast in the first place, getting fatter than my doll form and instead becoming my fat living doll," she rubbed at your soft body, clearly enjoying herself.
"You want to be my fat doll, right? I'll keep you so plump and comfortable and take really good care of you, pretty thing. I know you want it good girl, so just nod that pretty head for me," she gently cupped your face and made you nod your head in response, making a blissful calm wash over your mind and body.
Something told you that being a witch's fat doll could be the best thing that ever happened to you.
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kitmoas · 2 years
Text
Darkest Little Paradise
Summary: Wanda will always reward you for good behavior
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Genre: Fluffy Smut
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: Mommy Kink, Lactation Kink, Cum-Filled Strap-On Use (Wanda receiving), Slight Breeding Kink, Somnophilia, Magic Use, Dark Fic (alludes to kidnapping, dark power use, etc) *Let me know if I missed anything*
***MINORS DNI*** ***18+***
A/N: hiiiiiiiiiii SO this first chapter is for @maximotts birthday ☺️ for alll the feral smutty Wanda thoughts we share, heres a nice little thought. **also, ignore any mistakes this was edited way too late at night and too early this morning**
This is a dark fic, and the first chapter of a new Dark Mommy!Scarlet Witch AU.
Wretched Dreamscapes AU
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The sounds of laughter and pans banging wake you, the soft sun rays peeking through the curtains warm your face as you stretch. The pout that forms on your face is subconscious, knowing you missed out on sleepy morning cuddles. Rubbing at your eyes you try your hardest to wake up as quickly as possible.
Rolling slowly out of bed takes a lot of effort but when you hear the tell-tale sign of little footsteps sprinting up the stairs, and puppy nails tapping against the wood, you can’t help but smile as you wait for them to run into your room. 
The heavy wooden door is pushed open and a whirlwind of chaos enters your room, excited screaming and speed running messes up the everything within seconds. Sighing, you roll your eyes teasingly as you teleport out of the room, your tail the last thing seen by the energetic kids as it waves goodbye to them. You land on the counter next to Wanda, who just glares at you for once again landing too close to the stove top. 
Shrugging you just settle to watch her magic take over finishing breakfast as she comes to stand between your legs. “Good morning, my love” The witch cups your face gently, smoky tipped fingers wiggling slowly near your temple as faint ruby mist seeps into your mind. She’s leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose when she sees no trace of doubt in the family, gleeful that you are finally coming to terms with your new home even if it’s still being aided by her magic. 
You lean in to Wanda, letting your face find its home in her neck. Wiggling as close as possible to her, knowing what comes next makes you pout some. “Morning Mommy.” The sound of the twins running back downstairs is approaching you quickly. “Can you do the thing before they get here?” You feel the crimson mist consume your precious tail, swallowing it whole until it no longer seemingly exists. You know without even looking in a mirror that your skin is no longer tinted blue. Pulling away from the witch the frown that forms on your face is pathetic as you can feel the ghost tail, flicking in agitation. 
The dripping ink color disappears from her fingers as the boys come running in, stopping directly in front of you. Holding their ipads and listening to you rattle off the rules once more as Wanda watches with a fond smile. No power usage unless permitted by you, hold hands with each other at all times, buddy system, and no trying to get near any of the animals. 
With the boys excitedly dragging you off of the counter, their mom barely has time to wave their breakfast into their bags. After she checks the car for the backpack you packed last night, filled with snacks and emergency items, the four of you are off to the zoo. The puppy finally settles in his bed in the house, sleeping in the rare silence that fills the house.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Wanda looks worried as she grips your hand tightly, eyes stuck on the boys as they run towards the otter enclosure. She had put them in bright clothing, and told them again they had to hold hands the entire day if they wanted a treat from the gift store. The two of you were trailing behind, carrying all the snacks and drinks in the backpack securely settled on your shoulders. “They are okay Wiggly Woo, I promise. We’ve been practicing all week for this, the boys know how to act.” 
You watch as she exhales slowly, trying to cut her anxiety as she watches the twins lean against the glass to stare at the otters swimming. The moment she’s in arms reach of them you can see her relax, settling her hand in Tommy’s hair. Combing through the longer strands she leans down to look through the glass, giggling some as she listens to the excitable boy make up a story about the family. 
Billy is tugging at your arm, pointing out one of the baby otters that just slipped out of the water. “Did you know that the fur on those buddies is completely waterproof?” You let the boy drag you around and you answer all the questions he has, giving him any fun facts you can about each and every animal. Looking over to where Tommy and Wanda were standing just a few feet over, you watch with fond eyes as he uses his hands to explain whatever story he has made up about the life of each animal. 
It’s almost two in the afternoon when the twins start asking for lunch so you start the trek towards the food court. Tommy is running circles around you, hyping everyone up about all the random things you can eat when there’s just so many options. You had handed the backpack to Wanda when Billy dramatically stated that he was so hungry that he couldn’t walk anymore, so he was happily on your back pointing out things now that he was taller. 
The mini telepath yelps loudly but it’s just a little too late as he watches his twin run directly into an older man. You watch as Wanda’s eyes flash red, subtle black steam falling from her fingers as she loses control momentarily. She’s tugging Tommy into her side, an arm outstretched in front of him. Making sure Billy is secure on your back, you step in front of the other two looking the angry man directly in the eyes. Every time he tries to look around you, you move into his eyesight. “Sir, he’s just a kid. It’s the zoo, you should be aware of tiny humans running around.” Something in you yells at you to be ready, a gut feeling. Sliding the boy off your back you stand directly in front of the three Maximoffs, hands stiff and at your side as you glare at the man.”Don’t do anything stupid.” 
Before you can even finish the sentence the guy is thrusting an orange glowing dagger at you, but you just smile letting him try to stab you as you absorb the psionic energy. The orange glow travels through your body causing your eyes to flash a bright purple momentarily before you quirk an eyebrow at him. “Now, you can try that again and I’ll have to embarrass you in front of everyone at this lovely zoo. That sounds fun to me but I also don’t want to have to ruin some kids’ days so how about you turn around and get over the fact that a little kid ran into you. Learn to control your powers and your anger, you’re an adult.” Your tone is mocking as you reprimand this stranger for being so immature, and it’s as simple as that as he suddenly turns and stomps away. 
Wanda and the boys are attaching themselves to you immediately, making sure you’re okay and thanking you but you just smile and urge them to continue the walk to the food court. After getting trays of food the boys are immersed in some television show as they eat giving their mother a moment to lean closer to you. “You did amazing and you really showed the boys control.” Your smile is radiating as you wiggle some in your seat, the praise warming your body. 
The rest of the day Wanda doesn’t let the boys out of arms length, holding both of their hands as you walk just a step behind them. You know they had an amazing time, spoiling them by buying them whatever they want from the gift store. The ginger offers to drive home and the boys plead for you to sit in the back with them. It’s only twenty minutes into the drive home when the witch looks back, even with the television blaring the three of you are passed out. 
She chuckles but her mind drifts back to the man that attacked you. Her perfect world and someone has already tried to hurt them, and with powers nonetheless. Gnawing at her lip she allows her astral form to manifest in the passenger seat, the Scarlet Witch searching the Darkhold as she finishes the drive home. Wanda would find a way to get rid of all threats, even those that didn’t know who her family was. 
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Half asleep laying out on the bed is where Wanda finds you after putting the boys to sleep, a gentle smile spreads across her face as she crawls over to you. You’re wearing nothing but an oversized tank top. She settles herself on top of you, rubbing your stomach slowly, as she watches you struggle to open your eyes. “Come on my pet, it’s time to wake up for your reward.” 
Blinking against the bright light coming from the few lamps scattered around the room, the weight of the ginger on top of you drags your attention towards her. She’s wearing a thin light gray button up shirt, her breasts are prominently on display with only one button done. She chuckles as your mouth already starts moving, subsciously as your eyes glaze over. Your hands are moving without you realizing, gripping her hips as you try to sit up underneath her. 
Her eyes glowing a subtle red as she just smiles mockingly down at you, eyebrows creasing as she shakes her head. “Oh, my dumb little baby thought she would be in charge tonight? Just cause I said reward? That’s so cute, your stupid brain wouldn’t even know where to begin without Mommy showing you the way. You don’t have to act all big and bad around me, little one.” Your hands are forced down onto the bed, entirely too gentle magic trapping them there. 
The room flashes bright red, as a hex travels quickly throughout the house, her black tipped fingers and your tail finally being freed after a long day of being suppressed. Your blue hued skin reappearing slowly causing a loving smile to form on her face. The entire house is covered in an ominous scarlet haze but it just makes you feel safe, and she’s mumbling that she doesn’t want any interruptions. 
Forcing two of her raven tinted digits into your mouth, past your teeth and slightly down your throat, Wanda sneers down at you. A low chuckle falls from her lips when you immediately start sucking, jaw working to take as much of her fingers as possible. Her free hand cups your face, tapping slowly against your temple as small wisps of magic leaks into your mind. “That’s my good girl, no need to fight anymore. I got you, Mommy’s got you.” She watches with a delighted smile as your eyes start to glaze over. 
She lets her favorite strap magically appear around your hips, biting her lip in anticipation. You don’t even flinch, too hyper focused on the task at hand. “My brainless little princess , do you want to make Mommy happy? Make her feel super good?” 
You’re nodding quickly, almost too aggressively that you make her fingers slip out of your mouth. Whining you try to follow her hand as Wanda wipes the trail of drool on your chest, your tail whips out trying to grab onto her wrist but with a lazy wave of her fingers it’s pushed into the comforter. “Nuh uh, that pretty little tail will be used later.” 
Watching you lean up on your elbows as the Scarlet witch starts sinking down on the strap. The magic holding you down makes you whine, knowing that if you try to move without permission it’ll end your reward before it can truly start. The breathy moan that tumbles from her lips makes your hips jerk, causing the ginger to sink the rest of the way down the strap. She’s tugging you up the rest of the way, gasping as you move around so you’re stable beneath her. You let your hands wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. 
The way her body moved on top of you was mesmerizing, her breasts threatening to fall out of her flimsy shirt at any moment. You tried your best to keep up with her, snapping your hips up as much as possible and trying to guide her hips. Try as you might your efforts were futile and only made the witch laugh at you, one hand tangling in your hair while the other grips your shoulder tightly. “Is my dumb little fucktoy too stupid to fuck her Mommy properly? Can’t think about anything when her cock is inside me?” The more she moves the louder the sounds of her wet pussy gets, filling the room and your senses. A whine tears through your teeth as your brain struggles to keep up.
Wanda unbuttons the solo button keeping her shirt together, and smiles as your jaw goes slack. Slowing her hips so that she’s just grinding down on you, she guides your head to her breast. Your mouth is already moving, licking lightly at the already hardened nipple. The witch flinches slightly when your sharp teeth scratch at the sensitive skin there. Threading her fingers in your messy hair the ginger grips lightly as she feels you start sucking, biting her lip when she feels the beginning of the warm tingly sensation that she’s come to love. When she first started the quest to find a universe where she could have her boys she wanted as much time as possible with them, so she thought she would need to be able to nurse them ergo the spell she now uses to calm you even on your most petulant days. 
Your whole body is moving now, trying to stay attached as Wanda starts moving on top of you again. Getting to please your Mommy was amazing and it set a low blaze of arousal through your system but it’s the feeling of her sweet milk filling your stomach that makes you drip onto the sheets. The more she moves the more milk flows into your mouth and it sadly starts dripping down your chin, a pathetic whimper muffles against her breast. 
She lets go of your hair, letting her fingers fall to her own clit as she rubs tight circles on the hardened bud. Slowing back down as she rolls her eyes at you, “Such a messy little slut, wasting all of my milk like an ungrateful brat.” Your tail slides up your body, wrapping around her thigh before pushing her own hand away from herself. The triangular tip practically vibrating on her clit makes her moan appreciatively as she urges you to the other breast. 
The coil in Wanda’s stomach is tightening but she can tell you’re starting to get sleepy, your mouth struggling to keep up with the flow from her breast. She cups your jaw, and your sleepy unfocused eyes look up at her through your lashes and it’s the fog that fills your usually clear bright gaze that just almost pushes her over the edge. Hips bucking wildly on top of you makes you lose connection to her breast and a desperate whine as you desperately try to get it back, but she slams you back onto your back. The witch selfishly rides your cock as she chases her orgasm. “Lay still and let Mommy use you.” Her usual belittling is less scary, even as her eyes flash crimson, when her voice trails off in broken moans and grunts. 
In her haste to reach her own high Wanda forgets about your tail. It struggles out from under you before it wraps around the witch, using it to force her to bounce harder on your strap. 
“Do you want to cum in Mommy? Fill her cunt like you own it?” Her voice is strained as she holds off her orgasm as long as possible.The moment your hips are bucking under hers, sloppy and uncontrollable, she stumbles over the edge. The chants of please falling from your lips like a prayer as your strap shoots cum into Wanda, your arousal peaking realizing that your witch used your cum-no matter how fake- to get off. As she rides out her high the magic holding you down lightens until you can shakily sit back up. 
You can tell your close, even though she hasn’t touched you once, the damp spot beneath you is a clear giveaway. Her hands are shaky as she reaches out to your face, thumb smoothing over the frustrated pout she finds there. Leading you back to her breasts, now littered with dribbles of white, she lets you lap them up before urging you to take her leaking bud back into your mouth. Letting the gentle tugging pull a relaxed sigh from her lips, Wanda lets herself bask in the gradual pleasure build as crimson tendrils leak down your body. 
Her magic fills you easily, stretching you immediately and dragging a whine from your throat. She knows you’re close, the feeling of your thighs shaking below her is encouraging. The red fog filling you can feel how tight you are, vibrating against your neglected clit as it spills out of you. 
Wanda starts moving slowly on top of you again, the sleepy suckling causing the heat in her stomach to be too much. She can feel you start slipping from your breast so she wraps her arm around your shoulders, pressing you back to the bud. “Come on little one, Mommy knows you want to be a good girl and drink all her milk.” A sleepy mumble leaves your lips, vibrating around her sensitive nipple, as you blink heavily up at her. “I know detka, but you have to cum for me at least once. You were so good today, keeping us all safe and protected. You can give Mommy just one to me before you fall asleep.” Her sweet tone sends a shiver down your spine and makes you clench around the growing magic instead of you, pushing you to dangle over the edge. 
Your tail is flicking erratically, whistling as it cuts through the air. Muffled moans send tremors of arousal through the ginger’s body as you struggle to keep your eyes open as you're being dragged over the edge. “That’s right Malyshka, Mommy’s got you.” The taut coil in your stomach cracks, shattering and breaking almost gently as Wanda’s magic spreads through your body. Her eyes are glowing a soft ruby, watching as her magic streams from your pores and your sleepy body struggles to manipulate it. A smirk spreads across her face as she watches your tail spasms, the only true indication of you riding out your high in your sleepy state. 
She lets you slowly lay back down, aided by her magic, as she grinds down with more purpose. The surge of power she holds over you pushes her towards her second orgasm. Your mumbling out thank yous, and your adoration of Wanda, as you let the darkness of sleep take you. The spark of pride and arrogance only makes the witch gush around the strap still attached to your hips. 
Watching your chest rise and fall slowly as the remainder of her magic flowing out of you, unused, strokes Wanda’s ego just right. Her movements above you are getting more aggressive as she loses herself in her selfish race towards her orgasm, the leftover magic in you keeping you asleep as her moans get louder. Your eyebrows crease, eyes fluttering about as you dream, and the complete trust you put in her even as her chaos poisons you makes the witch fall over the edge. 
1K notes · View notes
serxinns · 4 months
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Yandere Mha x Scarlet witch Reader Part 2
Shout out to @lady-ashfade she helped me on the mount lady part (cause I didn't know her well)
Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
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Hawks(Platonic)
I wanted to make a pt 2 cause why tf not and because I got more confident of doing the others hope ya like it!
•Hawks is more of a fun big brother and always hides Yandere's tendencies from you he doesn't let himself go too far or let you suspect his actions and would quickly reassure you
•he nicknames you scar for short for scarlet which
•Hawks is like a protective big brother he would secretly watch out for you at any time he can get and whenever he's out of petrol or is required to do missions he leaves a feather on ur clothes or in ur bagpsck so u won't notice
•Hawks is obsessive and protective at the same time he loves every single thing about you he loves to spoil you at any time he can get and when he does he always gifted you his merch heck one time he gifted you his own hoodie with his signature on it saying "Love you little gremlin 😘"
•Hawks loves his fans but he's not hesitate to call them out to protect you if his fangirls try to harm you or harass you. One time he saw one of his fangirls push you out of the way and say rude remarks while trying to reach him that made Hawks pissed as hell and the next day the fans were all arrested cause of some rumors he made up
•whenever you tried of your classmates and teachers gushing all over you fighting to get your attention hawks would always swoop down and grab you after school away from ur classmates and teachers while they all glared and cussed him out and takes you to a secret place nobody knows (it can be an arcade, a garden your choice!) and the both of you would have fun until he had to take you back
• The UA teachers hate him and he loves to teach him with it by hugging you kissing you on the forehead and swinging you around in his arm with a sly smirk on his face
Nezu (Platonic)
•Nezu Knew you were special even before when he saw how you beat those robots with ease and now you'll use ur powers to make them explode ur fighting techniques were very creative yet very reckless cause it did caused u to get hurt he got so worried
•Nezu is the type of principal who would call you in the middle of the class for an important meeting when it's just wanting to have a tea and chat
•Nezu is like a fun uncle he's less strict than the UA if you ever get detention or in trouble and have to go to the principal he'll try to comfort you and let you know that ur not in the wrong even if you are at times
He'll let you know that he'll always be there
•Nezu would do a background check on you to make sure you weren't hiding anything
(sorry idk nezu much)
All Might (Platonic)
•All might is a very worried grandpa whenever he sees you hurt he would immediately go to the nurses office and brings you our favorite snacks 1st he has to see izulu hurt now you!? Give this grandpa a break 😭
•All might would be so worried about you fighting or training so he'd ask Aizawa to lighten up the training for u or maybe he trains with you (Which it works kinda )
•whenever you're in the middle of class he would always barge in his big form just to see your cute shocked face
•Hes very clingy so clingy that mic and All might would have a war about it to see how much they know about you
•All Might and Midnight would team up with the rest of the teachers and adults so they can both spend time with you and share you
•All might LOVES to out little cards with praises with his merch on it (he does it to Midoirya too) saying "Good luck superstar!" or "Keep trying" you might seemed annoyed but deep inside it kinda cheered you up a bit
•He would try and secretly set you up with Midoriya like giving him advice about love and giving him the stuff to gift to you he would even be the third wheel to see if your hang-out was going ok
Fatgum (platonic)
•Fatgum LOVES to get you big bear hugs like ALOT of them whenever he sees you he runs up to you and hugs and spin around you
•Fatgum Loves to take you to uncle and niece's fun times he would take you to the carnival if it's around or those summer festivals but when it's not he takes to his and your fav restaurants
•This Dude is protective ASF whenever Fatgum can't be there with you he makes Kirkshima and Tamaki (Yes he's a Yandere too) to watch out for you just in case and promise to protect you
•Fatgum will also help Kirishima to get with you he loves seeing his intern student happy so he teaches Kiri about love and how things are "manly" he also teaches him how to be sneaky and not get caught with his yandere tendencies he teaches tamaki as well and wishes them good luck
•If anyone messes with you this dude will turn from a happy little goofy uncle to a serious threat he will suffocate that person until they turn purple and prob beat them up a bit and after that's done he, Kiri and tamaki would go comfort you
Mount Lady (Platonic)
•Mount lady LOVES to dress you up in the prettiest outfits and make sure you are comfortable with the outfits she chooses she also makes sure u choose as well and when u come out she will praise you like ur a famous fashion star on the runway
•She notices how class 1a and the teachers would always bother you and baby you and get mad (cause she wanna baby you too) so she would take you away with her giant size and walk away she loves seeing you in her big form you're so tiny and adorable!
•Mount lady would convince you to try to play and tease with your classmates you hesitated at 1st but you thought of how overbearing they are and now how clingy and overprotective they are so you agreed
•Mount Lady would teach you how to flirt, Tease and play with your classmate's hearts she would even give u fashion advice
•Mount Lady would go from a sweet gentle mother to a scary Feral mama bear if anyone touches you she wants to be the only one to touch, hug, and cuddle you
•Shes always despise the UA teachers trying to steal you away from her your her cub! And what kind of mama bear would she be if she let those lowlives mess with HER child?
•Mount Lady and Midnight are deadly enemies she hated hates Midnight would always cuddle you and call you Moonbean every time Midnight would get so close she suddenly appeared between the two of you and tried to distract you by getting you excited for ice cream and making you buy it while she has a little talk with midnight she also dislikes mic as well
"Go on little cub go get us ice cream while I deal with this pest~"
Next thing you know they're fighting while you excitedly wait for your favorite ice cream flavor
Should I add Yandere's big 3 if so should they be romantic or platonic?
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ghostbeam · 7 months
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empty til she fills | fuyumi todoroki x reader
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You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.
Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.
Notes: Hiiiii everyone!!! This is the first installment of vampire empire and it’s all about fuyumi!!! It’s much shorter than I thought, but when it was done it was done u know? I love her I think she should be allowed to go apeshit and drink blood and not hold back if she wants to!!!!!!! Let her fuck!!!!!! Anyways yeah thanks for reading!! (title from vampire empire by big thief) u can listen to the playlist for the whole anthology here! Also I made a Pinterest board!
Warnings: 18+, minors dni, f! reader, explicit content, dark content, angst for like the briefest moment, violence, vampires, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (on both reader and another person), murder (u kill someone! It’s offscreen tho), blood kink, biting, drinking blood (fuyumi drinks from reader, u both drink from the dead man), biting and drinking from already open wounds, fingering, oral (reader eats fuyumi out!!! Yay!!!) (bloody), bloody sex, reader is sort of a masochist, soooo many commas, a line completely stolen from fascination (1979) cause I had to ajsjsjsjs, perspective changes between u and fuyumi like a lot idk I’m sorry she spoke to me<3
words: 4.3k
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Fuyumi has always been a little unsure of what to do with her hands. When she sits, when she walks, when she kisses, while she waits. Where does she put them? Where do they go?
It’s the same, squeezing porcelain clay through her fingers, molding and shaping and running a wire through the middle and cursing when it doesn’t topple over. She’s bad with her hands, but she loves it, lumpy mugs and all. 
And her mugs are lumpy, most of them break in the kiln, but whatever she’s proud of, she sends to her brothers. 
She’s never been much of an artist, and all the years she’s lived (many, many years), none of it ever interested her. But when you’ve done everything, there’s no harm in trying. And so even though her pots and bowls end up twisted and misshapen on the wheel, she tries and tries until they’re at least a little bit useful.
The truth is that there, in the studio, surrounded by people who do all the same things that she does, mess up and try again, break things when they don’t turn out, or smash fragile wet clay held together by careful hands, Fuyumi feels human. She makes mistakes. She screws up. It’s something she’s never been allowed to do before. 
Plus, you’re there. 
The anatomy class pays you to model. Sometimes, she sees you run around in your long robe, buying snacks from the vending machines or remembering something you left in your car. She’s completely enamored with you, with your humanity, how free you seem. She’s envious, in a way, but really she just likes you, wants you—wants to bite you. Which is dangerous for Fuyumi because she stopped feeding from humans ages ago. 
You collide on a Saturday night, left alone in the studio, separated by one wall. Fuyumi works late because she doesn’t sleep, and one of the owners of the building had given her a set of keys to lock up when she leaves. When she opens the door to the pottery studio, you’re out in the hallway, slapping your palm against the door next door and murmuring soft no’s as you peak through the glass. You have half a mind to just bust the thing down, except now you’re not alone in the hallway. 
Fuyumi. The pretty vampire with streaks of scarlet through her ivory hair, cute glasses perched on her nose, and hands you think about way more often than you should steps out of the pottery studio. You’ve caught her staring at you before, and you can’t tell if it’s because she knows of the similar condition you have in common, or if she’s as interested in you as you are in her. 
You both pause, caught staring at one another. The only thing on Fuyumi’s mind is that you’re probably completely naked under your robe. 
“I—um, got locked out.” You say, finally, blowing air you have no need for out of your throat like a breath. It must be nerves. “My clothes are in there. My everything is in there.”
“Oh!” She shakes her head free of the thoughts of your bare body. Then a realization, “I have a key!”
You move out of her way and let her unlock the door, jiggling the key in the lock and pushing it open. You grin, press your hands into her shoulders and let out a squeal of delight. “Thank you!”
“Yeah, no problem.” She speaks, willing herself not to melt at the feeling of your fingers digging into her flesh for a moment. She turns to leave, satisfied with the interaction, enough to hold her over for a lifetime, maybe. Your hands on her shoulders, your robe against your skin, your neck. 
“Fuyumi!” You call, and she feels like maybe she’s dreaming, or maybe she’s hearing things. But when she turns around, you’re looking at her expectantly. “Would you wait for me? I don’t really wanna walk to my car alone at night.”
It’s a good excuse, you think. Fuyumi’s got that bleeding heart (or lack of one). She won’t leave you alone. 
“‘Course! Yeah, I’ve gotta lock the front, anyways, so—yeah, I’ll wait.” She nods, stepping back into the room and letting the door fall shut behind her. She watches you untie you’re robe at the middle, and she spins on her heel, facing the door again. She hears you chuckle, and it makes her feel a little silly. You’re naked for, like, four hours every day. It’s not like you would care if she watched. 
But Fuyumi cares, because she doesn’t want to see you naked for the first time like that. She doesn’t want to see you naked and know she won’t be able to touch you. 
“Okay, you can turn around, now.” You speak now that you’re dressed. She turns and you walk toward her, locking elbows. She leads you outside, locks the door with your hand against her arm like she’s yours, and walks you to your car. 
“Guess I’ll see you next week.” She tells you, pulling away from you to walk to her bike. You call her name and it’s deja vu.
“Do you want to go get coffee?” You ask, stopping Fuyumi in her tracks yet again. She turns.
“It’s eleven o’clock at night.” Fuyumi says like an idiot. 
“I just—I wanna keep…hanging out.” You say, and well, so does Fuyumi. Of course, she does. “Your bike’ll fit in the trunk. I’ll drive you home after.”
So, she says yes, stuffs her bike into your trunk with the back seats folded down, and ducks into your car. 
You drive like a maniac, and you listen to your music way too loud, and Fuyumi hopes she doesn’t look as terrified as she feels despite knowing she can’t die in a car accident. But you can, she thinks, so yea, she’s terrified. And you drive like this all the time?
But you both make it in one piece, skirting into the parking lot of a diner with a yellowing neon sign out front. Everyone knows you inside, greeting you with happy smiles and asking you questions about your life, details Fuyumi hopes to know after tonight. 
You take her to a booth in the corner, sliding in next to her instead of across, thighs pressed up against each other as a waitress brings you both a mug of hot coffee. You order apple pie with ice cream, and Fuyumi envies the fact that you’re even able to eat it. Since becoming a vampire, she’s lost any appetite for anything that isn’t blood. 
“So, when were you turned?” You speak, licking vanilla ice cream off the back of your spoon, head resting on you fist as you stare at her. If Fuyumi had a working heart it would be beating out of her chest right now. “I don’t think you’re all that old. You actually seem pretty young. Tell me, maybe in the mid nineties, early two-thousands?”
Fuyumi opens then closes her mouth, unsure of what to say. How could you have possibly known (besides the fact that you got the decade way off)?
“I was turned in ’87 by an old boyfriend who couldn’t control himself.” You shrug, revealing the information like you hadn’t just told her that you, the little human she’s been so fascinated by lately, are a vampire. 
“You’re a vampire.” She says—a statement—not a question, because of course, you’re a vampire. 
“You didn’t know?” You ask, softer. She shakes her head, stares at the booth in front of her. She feels your fingers underneath her chin, and she’s not sure how she never noticed it before, but you’re hands are freezing. She lets you guide her to look at you. “Hey, are you okay? Did I freak you out?”
And it’s not that you’re a vampire. It’s not even that you’re a vampire that she was convinced was human. It’s that she wanted to bite you, wanted to feel that pop and gush, drink from you what’s not actually even being pumped through your body anymore, blood that’s lying dormant in your veins. And the thing is, she still wants to. 
“I think I’m just shocked.” She speaks, willing herself to calm down, accept the situation, adapt. “I haven’t met another one of us here in town. It’s new, but it’s…good. I’m actually a little excited about it.”
“You don’t sound excited.” You observe, letting your hand fall to her thigh. 
“I am—no really. I am.” She grins, leaning toward you. “How come you can eat real food?”
You think maybe she still hasn’t processed everything yet, the smile on her face a little unnerving. And there’s something in her eyes, raw, dangerous, hungry. It makes you shiver. “I never lost the appetite.”
“It tastes good to you?” 
“So good.” You nod, unknowingly moving a little closer. Two girls pressed up against each other in a booth in a dark corner. Two vampires. Two monsters. 
You’re there later than either of you expected to be, fingers intertwined, hands brushing away stray hairs, and words whispered against ears, tucking your face into her neck when you laugh at something inappropriate. 
When you leave, Fuyumi tugs on your hand, interlocks two fingers as you walk to your car. You drive just as bad, but she doesn’t think she minds it this time. To die by your side, and all that. 
When you drop her off at home, you scribble your number on her wrist with a green glitter gel pen and resist the urge to do something drastic like kiss her or invite yourself in. 
Fuyumi realizes she’s left her bike in your trunk, her only mode of transportation to the studio besides walking. She eyes the green glitter on her skin and opens her phone. 
left my bike in ur car:/ pick me up to go to the studio tmrrw? Read 2:22am
be there at 10 sent 2:24am
u can sit in on my class sent 2:25am
She does sit in on your class the next morning. You hold her hand and show her where to sit, a view of both the artist’s sketches of you and the actual you draped over a couch. It’s probably inappropriate to sit there all horny in the middle of this art class, but you won’t stop looking at her. You know exactly what your doing, mimicking the rise and fall of your chest like you’re breathing when she knows you’re not. 
You’re beautiful, really. It’s truly no wonder why they chose you for the job, every line and curve and fold. They’ll never be able to capture you the way you really are. Nothing compares to the real thing.
Her eyes gaze over your neck, down your chest, over your stomach, your thighs. That familiar hunger sits in Fuyumi’s stomach, aches in her jaw. She wants to bite you everywhere that she can, really make you bleed. But Fuyumi doesn’t feed from anything but animals, and it’s not like you’d satisfy her hunger anyway. She’s given up on that feeling a long time ago.
When the class ends, Fuyumi leaves to make more misshapen mugs, taking a few out of the kiln she thinks she’ll give to you. As the sun sets, both of you get ready to leave, and you’re at the door to the pottery studio by the time Fuyumi is done cleaning her space. You’re a little disappointed you missed watching her on the wheel, her pretty hands shaping the clay like you’ve seen her do many times before. You knock on the door frame, and she looks up at you, grins. Her hair is tied up, pieces of hair falling over her face, her cardigan falling down and exposing her right shoulder. You can’t get over how pretty she is, a little messy.
“Hi.” You speak.
“Hey. You ready?” She asks, throwing her bag over her shoulder and walking towards you. You always want to watch her walk towards you—never away.
“I’m ready.” You nod, intertwining your fingers with hers when she makes her way towards you. You drive Fuyumi to your house, your arm over the console and your hand on her thigh. 
Your place is small, really just big enough for you. The walls are a mauve color that Fuyumi decides she likes, tiny star shaped twinkle lights hang over each window instead of curtains, a bundle of violets stuffed inside a beer bottle sit on your coffee table, books and dvd’s and records all stacked against one another with what seems to be no sense of organization in your bookcases. It’s really not much for a vampire.
She sets her tote bag carefully on the counter, red and white checkered, pulling two of her signature misshapen mugs from inside. One painted blue with tiny yellow stars and the other lined with terribly drawn strawberries. 
“These are for you.” She tells you, turning to face you as you’re bent over your stereo, looking for a station you like. Bits from the past stick with you like a refrigerator magnet. Fuyumi wants to remember the look on your face when you turn around and see her gift for the rest of her life. 
“I love them!” You gush, rushing over to pick both of them up. “They’re perfect. One for me, and one for you. We’ll drink blood from them with our pinkies up and cheers to LeFanu.”
Fuyumi laughs, says nothing about the blood. “I’m glad you like them.”
You turn around, opening one of your cabinets open with a finger, setting the mugs down on the counter and moving two snoopy holiday mugs on one shelf towards the back. You set the gift down in their place and wave a hand over it like your presenting them on a gameshow, “I’ve replaced the snoopy mugs with them. That’s a big deal, you know.”
“I’m honored.” Fuyumi grins, moving around the counter to stand near you. 
“You should be.” You lean a little closer to her, let her hand brush against your hip, hook her fingers in your belt loops. You nudge your nose against hers, and she takes that as a sign to kiss you. 
Chapped lips meet yours, hungrier than you expected, much less soft than the girl before you. There’s a burning in your gut, her hands, those hands you’ve payed so much attention to, pressing into your hips, pulling you flush against her front. You let out a moan when she swipes her tongue against your lip, your bodies pressing closer and closer like you’ll become one person. She moves her leg in between your thighs, pressed up against you, and your mouth falls open in a gasp, one she wastes no time taking advantage of, all tongue and teeth, all her, her, her. 
The two of you end up on your couch, unable to make it to the bed. If you had to wait any longer, you think maybe you’d both explode. She eats you out, there in your living room, makes you come three times in a row, familiar hungry eyes never stray from your own. 
She doesn’t talk about the vampire thing. Ever. She goes quiet when you bring it up, busying herself with something else like washing the dishes in your sink or trying to find something to watch on tv. You mostly let it go because you know Fuyumi. You know how fascinated she is by humans, how she envies them, how that envy and fascination is the very reason you’re together now. 
And maybe it should hurt you, the fact that believing you were human was the one reason she’d been so interested. But you know her, bleeding unbeating heart and all, she loves you. She loves you and your monster, she just doesn’t love her’s.
It’s difficult to drag the body through your house alone, vampire strength being something you hadn’t been blessed with once you’d turned all those years ago. Fuyumi sent you a message that she’d be at the studio late and would probably just end up going home instead of coming over. You figure you have time to drain this guy of all he’s worth, pack him up into little tupperwares in your fridge and be done with him by morning. 
You’ve done this a million times before, dragged a body out to your back yard, fed from it until your satisfied before saving the rest. It’s enough to last you a couple of weeks. It’s a good system. 
You don’t hear the sliding door open, you just hear Fuyumi say your name. You look up at her, blood on your mouth, your neck, your hands, fangs poking out underneath your top lip. You’re sure you look terrifying, but it’s the look on her face that scares you. 
It’s disgust, and betrayal, and anger. It’s tears welling up in her pretty, gray eyes and her mouth falling open and closed at the sight of you. 
But Fuyumi, well, Fuyumi wants to join you. It’s taking everything in her not to fall to her knees and sink her teeth into the neck of this possibly innocent man. She wants to drink and kiss you, and drink, and touch you, and then drink some more, this time from your neck. But Fuyumi doesn’t kill for blood, and she thought that neither did you. 
“I can’t believe you.” Her words are quiet. If you both hadn’t been outside on a completely silent night, you don’t think you would have even heard her. 
“Fuyumi…” You begin, standing up from where you’d previously crouched down, blood on your hands falling against the concrete in sticky splatters. She takes a step back like she’s scared of you. 
“You killed him.”
“Fuyumi,” another step.
“Stay there.” You stop. It’s not supposed to be like this. She’s supposed to love you. She does love you. You have to tell yourself that. 
“I’m a vampire. What did you expect? This is who we are.” You try to explain. 
“It’s not—it’s not who I am.” She shakes her head, flashes of red appear behind her eyes, the teeth of her brothers, her hands covered in blood the same way yours are now. Laughing, hollering, arms tangled together, the last time they’d all been with each other, the last time they were happy. 
“It is. It is who you are. Fuyumi, you’re starving.” Your words seem to do something to her, her mouth falls closed. A decision is made, and her feet take her closer and closer to you and the body on the floor. 
She wraps her hand around the back of your neck, thumbs through the blood you’re covered in and kisses you. She licks the blood on your lips, moaning from either your tongue or taste, you’re unsure. You pull her close, blood smearing against her white t-shirt. She pulls away from your lips, kissing your jaw and your neck, poking her tongue out to lick up the mess. You place your hands on her cheeks, pulling her back to look at you. 
“Come here.” You whisper, pulling her down as you crouch to the ground. “I want you to drink—I want to share.”
She lets you pull her down, taking your hand in hers, slippery, slick. You move away from his neck, leaving it open for her, urging her. This is what she wants. There’s something about drinking from your bite in the man’s neck. You’ve been here, you’re bite is her bite is her blood. 
And, god, is it delicious. She drinks, lets it fall down her throat in large gulps, dripping down her chin and neck. A sound escapes her throat, guttural, everything she’s deprived herself of having, here in between her teeth. She watches you while she drinks, eyes looking up through white lashes, reaching a hand out to hold you by the wrist, grounded. She pulls away, heaving, even though she has no need for breath. Her lips, saturated in red, begging to be tasted.
“You’re beautiful like that,” You speak, squeezing her hand, “with his blood on your mouth.”
She kisses you, all tongue, her fangs catching on your bottom lip. She pulls away and pushes you down, lets you bite the other side of the dead man’s neck, pets your hair as you drink. It goes on like this for a while, kissing, drinking, touching, whispers of please and oh, god and both of your names over and over until you’re a jumbled mess of words and sounds and blood and guts. 
You stumble, half naked through the door, Fuyumi’s hands and lips all over you. You don’t make it to the bed, a habit the two of you have seemed to form, falling down on the hardwood, limbs all tangled. With her shirt already discarded outside, you thumb the hooks of her bra open, throwing it to the side. Blood has dripped from her throat down between the valley of her breasts, and you lick it up, feeling her back arch as she hovers above you. 
She kisses your neck, almost frantic. Her fangs brush against your skin like she might sink into you, but she doesn’t, just kisses you so sweetly. 
“Can I bite you, please?” She moans. “I need to—I’ve wanted to—”
“Yes.” You interrupt her, throwing your head back against the floor and baring your neck to her. She wastes no time sinking her fangs into your flesh, blood pouring into her mouth. Coppery and sweet, a hint of licorice and cherry—Fuyumi thinks she can’t get enough. You gasp, hands grabbing at her waist, fingers digging into her sides enough to leave a mark. You’ve never felt pain like this, all agony and bliss. 
She smiles at you, bloody, when she pulls away. A part of you is her’s now, nestled between her ribs, living in her stomach. You taste yourself on her lips, hands pulling at her jeans, your leg moving between her thighs to grind against her cunt. 
You flip her onto her back, sucking on her neck, venturing down her body. You pull her jeans from her legs, along with her underwear, spreading her legs. She’s so wet, thighs sticky with arousal as you run a finger through her folds. A whine escapes her lips as you thumb over her clit. With your eyes on her, you press your tongue to her entrance, watching how her face contorts in pleasure. It reminds you of the way she’d stared at you while drinking from the man, hand clutched to your wrist, not once daring to look away, With one hand, you reach up to do the same, bloody fingers circling her wrist as you devour her. 
She writhes, arching her back and grinding against your face, a mess of slick and blood pooling in your mouth as you bring her closer and closer to orgasm. 
“Please!” She cries, “please! Oh my god!”
Her moans only spur you on as you speed up the movement of your tongue, squeezing her wrist as you let her move her hips against your mouth. She comes with a strangled cry of your name, legs shaking around your head, falling limp against the floor as you lick at her swollen clit. You pull away, rising from your place in between her thighs to hover over her.
“Like that?” You ask her, placing soft kisses against her jaw. She manages a soft mhm before moving her face to kiss you.You run your hands up and down the sides of her body, “so pretty…”
“Let me touch you.” She begs, pushing herself up onto her elbows. You nod, letting her maneuver you so you’re on your back again. She kisses you again, swirling her tongue against yours, tasting herself. In a way, part of her is yours now, too.
She slips her hand into your underwear, gasping at the feeling of how wet you are. You take the opportunity to lick into her mouth, moaning against her lips as she slips two fingers inside of you. She pulls away from your mouth and eyes the open wound on your neck. You lock eyes with her, nodding in approval, allowing her to bite you again. 
She bites and curls her fingers inside you at the same time. A choked scream escapes your throat at both sensations. You move your hips as she pumps her fingers in and out of you, her throat bobbing with each drink she takes from you. It’s overwhelming, and so satisfying, being the consumed for a change. 
Her thumb brushes over your clit and you jolt, gripping her waist as she brings you closer to the edge. 
“Kiss me!” You cry, “Fuyumi!” 
She pulls away from your neck, watching how the blood flows from the wound, continuing her movements against your pussy. You pull her down to kiss you as you come from her fingers. You’re both moaning against each other, passing your blood between your tongues. She pulls her hand from between your legs, stares at the pink-tinted slick and how it webs between her fingers before wrapping her lips around her fingers and sucking them clean off. 
She smiles down at you, hair a mess, glasses-less as they’d fallen off much earlier. You press your palms against her cheeks, admiring her. This Fuyumi is hungry, and bloody, and the furthest thing from human. You love her like this. You’ll be her’s forever, if she’ll have you. 
You pull her into the shower with you, washing the blood from her hair and her back, taking turns and watching the blood swirl down the drain. She cleans the wound on your neck, and places a bandage over it, though you know it’ll be healed by morning. You place her glasses back onto her face. The two of you fall into bed, finally, arms and legs tangled together, huddled closely. She rubs over the bandage on your neck. 
“Next time, I wanna bite you, okay?” You ask, nudging your nose against her. She lets out a laugh you’re excited to hear for the rest of your immortal life and nods. 
“I can’t wait.”
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