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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months

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Thinking about a Yandere Demon Lord. This is Part 1.

Yandere Head Canons:

Defying Destiny

Yandere Demon Lord x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero

TW: Voyeurism, stalking, Somniaphilia, dacryphillia, dark content, etc

Part 2

You were surprised to be alive after your cold fiancé pushed you into oncoming traffic when you got into an argument with him… all you had wanted was for him to show you that he loved you, but instead he killed you. Yet your life didn’t end… no. Far from it.

Rather than waking up in the supposed after life, you woke up in the Rerenth Kingdom. A fantasy kingdom in a magical world plagued with problems written in fiction novels. And the emperor explained to you, no, demanded that you to take on your role as Saintess to save them from the Demon King.

The demon king was now your enemy. Defeating him was the only way for you to go home… but did you even want to do that? In your last life and in this one, you were merely another unhappy pawn. The silk robes and dazzling abilities did nothing to shield you from the harsh reality of what your life has become once more… would you ever truly be free? Would you ever truly be happy?

The servants often spoke of the monstrous Demon King who controlled the forces of darkness that sought to destroy the light. A demonic entity none of the people in this kingdom had ever truly seen with their own eyes, but they believed him to be out there… how else were they to explain the supernatural happenings that plagued their kingdom? This entire ordeal made little sense to you since you hadn’t seen many disputes between humans and demons unless they were over territory. Vast majority of the time, it was humans that ventured into the demonic lands anyways. Was this perhaps some propaganda tactic? You didn’t know and you didn’t question it, you simply wanted to retire to a peaceful life.

It took a few weeks for you to be able to control your new holy power, but you were able to now harness it for barriers and for healing. Abilities that would be useless without a hero… a fact that the citizens soon realized so they began to devise another plan. To summon a hero!

Another few weeks passed by and they successfully summoned a valiant hero by the name of Reinhardt. His chiseled face was constantly covered by the taxidermied lion mask that adorned his face. The man was massive and intimidating, yet you couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about him. You couldn’t place a finger on who he could possibly be since you didn’t know anyone else with an imposing stature like his but that gut feeling never left you.

Reinhardt would often glance you up and down when he thought you weren’t looking. His green eyes would bore into yours until you felt as if you’d be set ablaze. He was terrifying to you. Especially now that you were on a journey with him to defeat the demon king… along with a fox beastwoman fighter and an elven mage who had joined your party due to the emperor’s order. The Emperor didn’t see you to be enough aid to the hero on this important quest.

Both adventurers were quite rude to you at first since you had no offensive abilities. They often fawned over the hero who blatantly ignored their affections to instead watch over you like a hawk. A fact the two women didn’t really enjoy, but they accepted it as the weeks melted into months. And you still didn’t know their names since they never told you (and Reinhardt never spoke).

The three of them often fought and killed monsters and demons while you protected the supplies and healed their injuries. It upset you that your party ambushed them since the enemies usually were unarmed. Majority of the time, it was a one-sided slaughter. An endless bloodbath that you had no power to stop.

You often lied to your peers about monsters hiding, unaware that your small act of kindness would lead to a snowball effect in the future. You had now caught the eye of an entity much stronger than you and the hero’s party… all because you were merciful. You were kind and sweet. A true saintess.

Your softness had made your peers joke about you being a cry baby. The elven mage and beastwoman often jabbed their elbows into your side to joke about the tears you’d cry because they thought you were scared. The dense women never realized your tears were for the innocent monsters they slaughtered on a day to day basis too. You were never scared of the demons or monsters, you were scared of them.

Yet Reinhardt nipped the subtle bullying in the bud by shoving the other two adventures away from you with his strong arms. He always made sure you were safe before he offered his body for healing… which he’d just make gesture at you with his hands rather than speak. It seemed he was fond of you, a fondness you didn’t understand since he never spoke to you.

Reinhardt would often pick you up without asking you and tuck you into the crook of his large arm. It bothered you that he never took off his mask, but he had quite an attractive jawline with the slightest bit of stubble. There was not a doubt in your mind that Reinhardt was likely an attractive man, but that didn’t matter. Since he was creepy.

Reinhardt never uttered a word to you but would always dutifully stand by your side (or carry you like some sort of damsel). He often reminded you of your ex fiancé with his stoic demeanor and his bewitching green eyes. And the staring. You swore you felt bare under his gaze even if you had multiple layers on.

And it wasn’t just his eyes you felt on you, you swore there was someone else watching you in the shadows and the possibility of you having another stalker made your skin crawl. Had you finally gone insane from having Reinhardt be around you 24/7? Or was there something sinister amiss?

Maybe that’s why Reinhardt so dutifully clung to you? Whether his protection was out of obligation or simply because he lusted for you, his presence did little to ease the extra set of eyes. In fact, he made it worse.

Wherever you were, Reinhardt was never far. He was with you when you bathed to stand guard. He was carrying you if you couldn’t keep up with him and the rest of the hero’s party. Reinhardt even began to stay in your tent with you…

He didn’t utter a word when he watched over you whenever you had nightmares. Reinhardt never woke you up from the horrific dreams of the man with pitch black hair and sharp talons pulling you into his lap and having his way with you. No, Reinhardt instead dragged his tongue down your tear stricken face in delight.

Reinhardt knew his actions were wrong, but he couldn’t help but fawn over your helpless form. You were so weak without his protection… you were a lamb sent to a slaughter that luckily had a herding dog with you. You should be grateful Reinhardt had such an intense interest in you, otherwise you could have perished earlier on at the goblin camps. Or those other two party members would have likely broken a few of your bones from rough housing. You were a frail bird that needed to be locked up at all times and Reinhardt was willing to be the one to do that! He would keep you safe, even if it took you years to understand even an ounce of his magnitude of feelings for you. He was a patient man!

It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake up in your tent with Reindhart’s imposing form standing over you ominously. You’d cry every single time, but he’d make no move to comfort you. Only stare.

Over the last four weeks, you begin to receive little trinkets in your tent on the daily. Delicacies that Reinhardt would immediately pitch once he saw them, but it filled you with anxiety that he was not the one slipping you those gifts… who on earth could be gifting you such pretty rocks and wild flowers?

You were flattered, just the tiniest bit, by the small, temporary gifts. They were much more welcomed than the iron grip of Reinhardt’s arms. Even though the sender made you anxious, it was nice to know that someone took you into consideration. It was a small action that filled you with hope. Perhaps you would be saved from this fate?

Shame you didn’t understand just how much those tiny gifts upset the hero. Your eyes should only be on him. Your entire purpose should revolve around him. Reinhardt wanted to find the individual who sent you these gifts so he could rip them limb from limb. You belonged to him and he would show you that you had no way of escaping him. You were going to be his bride! Whether you liked it or not, the hero had chosen you as his destined one!

Recently, you’d wake up to him laying beside you in your tent with his large arms wrapped around you. His Roman nose buried into the crook of your neck. This was far worse than him lingering in your tent since he had become so physical.

And your peers did nothing about his harassment of you. To them, it was cute that the hero was so ‘enamored’ with the Saintess! You’ve even heard whispers of how the emperor will no doubt arrange a marriage between the two of you once the four of you eliminated the demon king. It terrified you even more because you knew you’d have little say in the matter… your life was spiraling out of your own control once more. This time, into the arms of some brute with attachment issues. You didn’t want to marry another emotionally constipated man! You wanted to have freedom!

You often cried yourself to sleep which only made Reinhardt even more overbearing. He now would press kisses to your cheeks and cuddle his body into yours. Even in your dreams, you couldn’t escape this massive man. If only you could be saved…

And when you drifted off into an unnaturally heavy sleep, your barriers deactivated. An action that allowed the Demon King to finally slip into your party’s camp and take what he wanted. You.

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unholyhelbig · 9 days

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I just want to say I'm already hooked on the beast you made me. I can't wait for the next chapter!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 2/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 5151

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries, animal bones, mentions of death, containment, and horrible grammar because I don't proofread

[a/n: Thank you all for the overwelming support on the first chapter! I truly didn't expect that much reception. I'm going to be traveling for the next week so the next chapter might be delayed a bit]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

1917, Rural Pennsylvania

A sweeping river cut through the patch of sweetgrass on the south side of the farm. It emitted a gurgling sound that often soothed your nerves. There was a rocky clearing sandwiched between the tree line and the plain of grass that had become a perfect spot for you to settle in and read the hard-covered books you’d gotten from the corner store.

Your father would bring back any book you requested from the city during his travels. You devoured them faster than he could provide them and had read ‘Eight Cousins’ ,Lousia May Alcott’s foray into the adventures thirteen-year-old Rose, enough to nearly tear the pages from the binding.

The book itself held the clean honeyed scent of the earth, of the secluded spot that you called your own. Your muscles would thrum from loading the bales of hay into your fathers ford. Your fingers were calloused, and dirt caked around your ankle in a dark ring. All of that vanished when you cracked open the book about a girl that was so much like yourself.

It was easy to lose yourself in the paragraphs, the hum of the river sometimes lulling you to sleep. Your mother would pack you a sandwich on warm, hand-kneaded bread, usually some salted meat and mayonnaise. She’d pack sweet tea and send you on your way, knowing that you wouldn’t return to the house until you saw a flicker of a firefly.

Today, you’d fallen asleep under the sun. The book was discarded, and your forearm draped across your eyes. It was easy to drift, and easier still to dream about leaving the small dairy farm for something bigger- the very city that your father would return from with new literature and arts, and spices that made your mouth buzz with flavor.

You were in a haze when the ear-piercing scream cut through the air as if it were a natural solid. Your ears pinched at the sound, heels digging into the coarse sandy shore. Maybe it was a dream. It could have been an animal that had sunk its pointed teeth into the artery of another.

So, you waited, panting with your heart in your chest and the corner of the book barely lapped by the muddied water. And there was this sound. It was no fox caught in a trap or bovine tangled up in the barbed wire fence around the property- no, this was familiar. This was your sister.

Helena was quiet, often described as demure and borderline submissive. Despite being younger than yourself she carried a certain poise about her. Mother would often boast about how she would have no trouble finding a husband, how the boys already fawned over the child of hers that was not feral and unkempt.

Her cry was the loudest you had ever heard her and it had you on your feet, scrambling up the bank. Once past your small world of wonder, you were greeted with an endless sea of sweetgrass that was waist high in some areas.

A warm breeze created waves against the landscape, the farmhouse a small speck among the expanse of land. Your head was spinning, it was hard to track exactly where it had come from. It took another cracking screech to set you North.

Your legs pumped until you were consumed in a blind speed. You’d been renowned for your quickness, for your dedication to get from point A to point B. The kids in your town often joked that you were steadier than a steed. Not only were you the fastest in the class, but the fastest in the county according to some. Still- only a child of fifteen, and no man would want to wed someone with speed. It wasn’t a practical skill.

There was a pit deep in your stomach whirled, instinct knowing precisely where Helena was yowling from.

Jorge had gotten there at the same time you did; his brow was leaking with sweat and he panted against the hot air that surrounded you both. Your older brother was tall and lanky, serpent-like with beady black eyes and pitch hair to match your father’s. His shirt hung low against his midsection, his skin pale despite his hours in the sun working the fields.

“Stay back, y/n.” He demanded sharply.

The old well was a mere foot in front of you both but neither made the effort to move forward. The aged wooden plank that covered the stone shaft had been splintered through the middle, worn from age and weather.

Helena’s soft cries echoed up. When your father had first acquired the property, the previous owners explained that it had been boarded up after of the bulls had fallen down and snapped it’s neck. It was too large to pull out and they left it to starve and then rot.

Your father never let any of his children peer down into the well. You wondered if something had pulled Helena here, or if she had simply forgotten of it’s existence. Jorge dropped down to his knees and did a cautious crawl as if his own two feet couldn’t’ hold him anymore.

You saw the exact moment his skin became waxier, almost a gray porcelain paleness that had a green tint. He was swallowing too much, his white shirt coated in the red clay dirt.

“What?” You asked, voice breaking “What is it?”

“Go get Mama.”

It would have been easy to listen to your brother. He was the man of the house when your father wasn’t there but with him pleading for your mother, for an adult, you got a rancid taste in your mouth.

Against your better judgement you edged close enough to the abandoned well. The sun was setting in a fire-filled orange haze with enough color and angle to get a good view of the bottom; a slosh of fallen grass and rainwater, and muck, and yes; the bones of a beast once left to decay and rot in its own silence.

Your sister was wedged within the ribcage of the befallen bull, almost as if she replaced the beating heart that stopped pulsing long ago. Her hands gripped at the sun-bleached bone, knuckles nearly the same color.

It took you a moment to make out the slick, and the red that stemmed from the center of her stomach. The head of the bull had shattered under her weight, all expect the stretching length of it’s curved horn. That was wedged through her abdomen, surrounded in a vibrant rose red that puddled and had already coated her hands.

Prints from her struggle were against the limestone edges of the well. Her eyes pleaded up at you; your kind and caring, and animal-loving sister was trapped inside the remains of one. You fought back the urge to vomit, the rash thought that if the bone ripping through her flesh didn’t kill her, then infection would.

“Y/n get mama!” Jorge hissed again, and this time you didn’t hesitate. You nearly tripped over your own boots with the fever it took to back away from the scene, the metallic scent of blood mixing deliciously with the turn of rotted soil.

You had never run so fast in your life.

Wanda Maximoff had never felt the cold that wormed its way to her bones before. It was the type of cold that almost wasn’t, a stinging, horrible feeling that had her startled from the folded metal chair. It collapsed within itself as the blinked the wine-dark color from her eyes.

She stumbled backward, only to be brought back to the starkness of the room by a soft grip on her elbow. Wanda allowed herself to be held, if not for stability but for comfort. Steve Rodgers had a welcoming hand on the small of her back, the other steadying her.

He was a solid force, and her reaction stirred him.

“Fuck,” the expletive fell from her lips, “Jesus Christ.”

There was quietness to the room in the aftershock of the fallen chair. It was nicer than a standard holding cell. The walls were cream colored, triple enforced to keep people like you inside. There was a bed bolted to the wall, a bunk that was almost like a summer camp endeavor.

A charged glass wall was blocking you from the rest of the world. It was seemingly unbreakable, and in this moment, so were you. Wanda didn’t want to test the glass, nor did she know how to make sense of the memories- your memories- that had flooded every inch of her body.

You were asleep, chest rising and falling at a normal pace, as if none of what Wanda had just seen was flitting around your mind. Soft snores pushed past your lips, one arm hanging over the side of the bed while the other followed the flow of your breathing as it rested on your chest.

Wanda didn’t understand the secrecy and the precaution that surrounded you. The Avengers compound was a constant ebb and flow of different heroes, Inhumans and mutants. What made you so different? What made you an 0-8-4?

It was a term that Natasha had used only once that was usually attached to objects, not a person. It was an object of unknown origin and in that case, it was a power-filled object from space. Space. She’d been through different dimensions, but that, for some reason, struck her as terrifying.

0-8-4’s were never brought here, but then again, they’d never been alive either. Steve had told her that your energy signal was off the charts, and that they wanted her to dig around your head. Something that she denied doing at first. It was an invasion of privacy.

But, there was a certain pleading within Captain America’s eyes that scared Wanda more than the personal rules she set for herself when it came to her power. What she had seen, what she had felt was barely scraping the surface of what your mind contained. She wasn’t keen on pushing past that barrier for the conclusion of that story. Was it even yours?

“What? Wanda, what is it?”

“I… I don’t” She shook her head, eyes hardening as she stared into Steve’s “Where did you find her?”

He hesitated to answer, his eyebrows furrowing before he looked away from the witches’ prying eyes. She’d been part of this team for years now and they were still reluctant with what they were willing to share. Wanda clenched her jaw, then unclenched it before her stare flashed back to your resting form.

There was a small frown that creased your features. You looked so… harmless. You had shifted, folded into yourself as if you were scratching the surface of what flashed before her. Your arm was folded under your head, knees flush to your chest. A small, beautiful whimper escaped you.

“She’s in distress, Steve.”

“Discomfort, more like. It’s better for all of us that she stays in there for right now. The last thing we want to do is harm anyone but if that requires some temporary-“

“Imprisonment?”

“Containment.” He said firmly, eyes hard. Wanda crossed her arms over her chest but stayed silent, letting him continue. She was sure she wouldn’t have been asked if not for her ability to worm her way into minds, to rearrange things. “What did you see?”

“A memory, one that can’t possibly be hers. The timeline doesn’t fit, this is a woman in her mid-twenties and who I saw was barely a teenager on a farmstead. To experience that much tragedy, that much fear and heartache.”

She started to pace, trying to not only work through her own thoughts, but yours as well. It could have been a story, and she was convinced of the fact save for the vividness. There was the feeling of grass tickling her arms and the sharp, undeniable stench of blood.

“Her younger sister died, fell through some rotted wood and fell to her death.” Wanda’s fingers pressed against the edge of her hairline. “She could have lived, but I have my doubts.”

He lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at her. His expression betrayed his compassion towards you, his stance uncomfortable with the topic. While the revelation was heartbreaking it hardly made you extraordinary. They’d all lost people, none had stirred Wanda as you did.

Wanda’s stare found his after darting to you once more, “Steve, I have the sinking feeling that what I saw was only scratching the surface. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of memories that were pressing in on all sides.”

The sensation of being observed is what pulled you from your fitful sleep. Exhaustion had washed over you like a tidal wave, all at once and leaving your mouth dry like a spoonful of salt. There was a stiffness that rivaled that of the grave you’d crawled out of, and you hoped that it was all a dream.

You were in your bed, in your apartment, after having one too many drinks. It was a horrible stretching nightmare that had plunged you into one sea of darkness from another. But even you weren’t that naïve.

Just as you felt a stranger’s eyes on you now, you had felt the dirt under your nails, the cold sodium-filled takeout as you attempted to chew it. More than anything, you remembered the burning feeling of the Black Widow pressed fully against your back, bending you over Jenn’s kitchen counter.

“I would prefer if you kept the feeling of my wife’s body against yours out of your mind.”

You shot up with a dizzying amount of quickness, heart suddenly in your chest. There was an imbalance to the bed that you were laying on. It was smaller than your own and unfamiliar. The room was stark white. It hurt your eyes and you had to blink the color away. You pressed the heels of your palms close to your eyes.

It felt as if you were locked in a glass shower with an audience and stage lights. The more you looked, the more you realized it was a room, something with no personal effects but a bed and a dimmer switch that you itched to utilize.

A pitcher of water was on an end table. It wasn’t color exactly, but it was more than the rest of your surroundings. Possibly with the worst manners you’d ever exhibited, you drank straight from the pitcher, not remembering the last time you had a drink. Suddenly, you were parched enough to soak your collar.

Despite your audience, you continued until you felt your stomach protest. You used the back of your hand to wipe away the moisture, black dirt was smeared across your skin. It was then, and only then, that you forced yourself to look past the walls of your prison, your enclosure.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” The woman said, walking close to the glass. You could see her clearly now, there was an heir of recognition about her, in the same way that there had been with the Black Widow.

“You were in my head.”

“For a while. It’s my job. But your thoughts are also deafening.”

“Sorry,”

This woman was intoxicating. Alluring and beautiful in her presence. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt hugging her form. You weren’t positive what time it was- what day it was- but it could be late into the night. She looked like she was roused from sleep, and a part of you felt guilty for the fact.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie.” Her voice was much more tender than it had been a few moments ago. “You can’t control being brought back from the dead. A lot of trauma comes with that.”

You stood shakily and walked closer to the glass. They’d taken your shoes and the tile under your feet was frigid. You crossed your arms over your chest and shivered into yourself. You didn’t want to think about the fact that they had undressed you, probably taken your clothes for testing. Instead they left you in a blue set of scrubs.

You averted your stare from your own reflection, not willing or ready to look too hard. You’d much rather look at this stranger, your heart not slowing, your head pounding. Nothing but a simple pane of glass separated you.

“And I was brought back from the dead, wasn’t I? That wasn’t a fucked-up dream where I got hit by a car and then poof God, if there is one, decided that me of all people was worth bringing back.”

She lilted her head, quirked an amusing brow at you. A chill flushed down your spine and seemed to fizzle out at your toes. This woman was gorgeous and terrifying and made you want to squirm. But if this was prison, you had to assert dominance. Right? That’s what Wentworth taught you.

This cell didn’t look or feel like Wentworth, and this Warden had an amused smile tacked to her lips like she had heard your every thought. And she had. At least you assumed that she did. She’d mentioned her wife earlier, and the woman’s body against your own was plaguing you like a runaway freight train.

When she didn’t say anything, you clawed to fill the silence “I want to talk to Bruce.”

“Bruce? Honey, he’s off world.”

“Off… world.” You laughed, softly at first but then almost manically, tears forming in your eyes that you wiped away with your cold fingers. “No, no, that’s really cool. I worked a 9-5 and now I can’t talk to Bruce because he’s in Outer Space.”

“Maybe not outer space, maybe another dimension.”

You leveled her with a humorless glare. She had both of her hands up as if she wanted to comfort you, or the caged animal you had become. You had to give her credit, she seemed just as horrified as you were. She offered up a dim, faltering smile.

There wasn’t a way for you to process this in a gentle manner, there was no one to guide you through it other than Jenn. She’d done this before, lived a whole life that was flipped upside-down and she’d come out on the other side. It was the uncertainty that scared the hell out of you.

“You were in my head earlier,” You stopped suddenly, pressing your fingers against the glass. The woman didn’t flinch. Your frantic breath fogged with each exhalation. “Do you know why I came back?”

She shook her head, “No. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

“No.” A weak chuckle, you let your hands drop. “At least we’re on the same page.”

The nurse they allowed to enter through the side of the containment unit took cautious steps towards you that made your chest ache. All your life, people had said how welcoming and kind you were; how they were never afraid to come to you with their worries. It had bothered you before the incident, before your death, but now you missed seeing the stare of those who didn’t harbor any fear.

She was small, a mouse of a thing that had pale blonde hair and startling blue eyes. Her name tag read Julia. Your mind rushed with the paths she’d taken to this place. She must be interning here, much too young to hold a classification herself.

Your finger twitched on your knee, palm sweaty. It’s heat radiated through the thin blue fabric of the pants they’d provided you with. You hated needles, always had. But, you struggled to stay still and the effect that had on poor nurse Julia was making you fidget more.

There was a scent about her. It was under the layers of hairspray, nail polish, and shea butter. It was a sweet metal that made your stomach swirl. Was it her sweat? You’d never smelt anything past walking by the bomb that was the boys locker room, and it certainly had never been this tantalizing before.

Your eyes met hers, crystal blue and uncertain. “You’ll just feel a little pinch”

This is when you pulled your gaze back and instead focused on the cream colored walls. There was no problem with needles, you’d dutifully sit for your flu shots, but something about the sharp edge pushing through a layer of skin and fat before hitting your vein made you nauseous.

“We just need enough to run a few tests.” Julia soothed.

She was a normal nurse in that one, small way. Your mind was itching, blood seeming to congeal. It refused to cooperate and her burning touch was all but dominant against your skin. You both waited for the small tube to fill with black liquid.

Finally, you felt her press the gauze against the crook of your arm and withdraw the needle. Another small pinch and then a massive relief. Her smell hung around you and filled the room. There was an undeniable urge to sink your teeth into her. To taste her.

You’d stopped the elevator just hours before to assess your penchant for brain consumption, but this wasn’t that. This was an intoxicating pull. This was animalistic, the same rush of emotion that had flooded you without prompting during your earlier conversation.

Julia squeezed your shoulder calmly, not entirely over her own reservations, but on the penance that she was a nurse and this was her job. You kept yourself rooted to the bed, fingers digging into the wood. She left the room and you could hear the compressed lock reseal you inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

That sweet odor lingered, and your reaction to it scared you more than anything. The wood beneath your fingertips splintered, and suddenly that anger, that fear, rolled away to shock. That wasn’t… normal. None of this was normal, but you weren’t exactly picked first in sports either.

You were a middle kid, a I guess I wouldn’t mind having you on my team kid. Suddenly your fingers were cutting through wood like it was butter. You let out an indignant squeak and shifted the blanket until the slashes were covered.

“Is everything alright?”

Wanda, you had learned that her name was Wanda, occupied her usual spot in front of the window. A slick sweat covered your forehead. She was holding a small tray that had a steaming bowl of soup and a delicious hunk of French bread.

“I figured you were hungry,” She lifted her chin towards the panel next to your door. “May I?”

“I’m at your mercy.”

And you were, truly. You hadn’t seen anyone but her since you’d woken up. There were shadows of others, people that made the pit in the center of your stomach grow three sizes. You knew exactly what they were doing, you watched enough true crime with Jennifer to know.

Here was this beautiful and powerful woman offering you food and words of comfort, and you allowed yourself to fall for all of it. Listlessly. Because what did you have to lose? You’d already died, and the thought of putting your family through the heartache of resurrection and then possibly enough committal to the ground was too much.

So, let her Stockholm syndrome you. The food smelled divine.

Wanda didn’t hold the same fear that Julia had. In fact, once the compression of air signified that it was okay for her to enter, she did so without hesitation. She set the food down on the equally dull side table and lowered herself onto the corner of the bed, making herself at home.

She’d changed into a pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt that had the outline of SHIELD on its sleeve. You frowned, for a company that does everything in its power to keep itself hidden, they sure loved that stupid bird so much.

“Go on, sweetie. You can eat.”

Wanda had a command about her that made you fold and listen despite any reservations. You took up a spot on the far end of the bed and shoveled the first spoonful into your mouth. An explosion of heady flavors coated your tongue, coaxing a low moan from your lips.

Blush rushed to your cheeks at the spark in the set of stormy eyes that watched you like a hawk. You rushed to break the tension. “So, what’s the plan here? Run a bunch of tests and keep me locked up?”

“Somewhat.” She paused, carefully thinking of her next words. “Y/n, I have the ability to get inside the psyche. Not only can I read every thought, every action, but I can control them too. It’s not something I like to do, nor something I want to. Not without permission.”

You frowned again. You certainly hadn’t given her permission to enter your mind before, and she tensed at the realization. But, you took another bite of soup and swallowed down the spiced broth. What’s done was done. You didn’t expect her to ask, much less admit to her wrongdoing.

“I prefer to ask. Can you tell me what you do for work?”

“Paralegal, the bar seemed like too much stress. But I’m good at my job. I was good at my job before a car turned me into sidewalk art.”

“Right, and your family, what about them?”

There was no desire to think of them and their perfect lives that you’d shattered with your death. Your mother used to sit in the tepid air on the porch swing, downing a glass of wine before she turned to you with tears in her eyes. She’d urge you to be careful working in the city. She’d plead for you to come home. More than anything, she’d utter the phrase a mother should never outlive her daughter.

“My mother is a seventh grade biology teacher and my father runs a painting business that’s been operating my whole life. They’re not very exciting people. They must be worried sick about me.”

Wanda nodded, “Any siblings?”

“Not anymore.”

She stilled at your words and didn’t pry. You were well aware of the fact that she could push through your deflections and learn the information that she wanted to know. But, you respected that she didn’t. Instead, she stared at you, and you stared right back, suddenly not hungry.

Wanda was someone that you felt the need to open-up to. Unlike the brief encounter you had had with her wife. Not that you let that word stick with you, not in the same way that her touch did. Again, you had to push the thoughts to the back of your mind, even if Wanda wasn’t prying.

Instead, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers through your body. You suppressed a whimper at the sudden contact.

“I had a brother named Pietro. He was fast, unnaturally so. Neither of us ever wanted to be heroes, we didn’t think about the future like that. So, when the Avengers, these so-called saviors of the world, recruited us, we knew about the dangers. But it still shocked me when he died. He was my brother. He wasn’t supposed to be fragile like that.”

You stared at her with an amount of tenderness in your eyes that she wasn’t used to from the others. They cared, sure, but in the way that a co-worker would care enough to purchase cut flowers and a ‘sorry for your loss’ card. You were different.

“They’re our protectors.” You swallowed hard, mouth dry “when something drastic happens, it doesn’t seem real.”

“It still doesn’t.”

There was a lapse of silence that pushed memories in your direction. The burning cold weather on the day your own brother had died. You remember the scream that died in your throat and the way you’d knelt in the cracked snow until you couldn’t’ feel your legs or your fingers. It took an EMT with a heated blanket and a horror story about hypothermia to pull you to your feet.

“Jonathan.” You whispered.

She let out a questioning hum, pulling her feet from the floor and making herself more comfortable on the less-than-comfortable bed. “Your brother?”

“My older brother. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he never complained. He was a hockey player and a damn good one too. He’d use the lake behind our house in Jersey to practice and one winter the ice broke underneath him. He drowned, and I was too weak to save him.”

Wanda let out a shuddered breath. You couldn’t read her facial expression. It was a mix of confusion, or sadness, but not pity and that was something you appreciated. You’d had enough pity, just as your family had enough grief without you adding to it.

She opened her mouth to reply, but both of you were startled when three quick knocks shattered the silence. The Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, stood on the other side. She showed no interest in breeching the containment unit. Instead, she leveled her wife with a dark stare and held up a folded piece of paper.

“Excuse me,” Wanda whispered, giving your leg a settling squeeze.

She left the plate and exited the holding cell. Her words were muffled, but those unripe green eyes that Natasha possessed kept flicking to you nervously. She too, didn’t’ show pity. It was interest and if you were being honest, you thought you saw the smallest spark of fear.

Wanda took the paper from her wife, squinted at something you couldn’t’ see. You felt like you were at a parent teacher conference, just out of bounds of hearing but you could see their body language; the way that Natasha itched to move closer to Wanda, the fingers that the taller woman pressed to her lips, thumb creasing the paper.

Finally, Wanda turned back towards the glass. Natasha met your stare without issue, hitting the intercom on the other side of the cell. It was her who spoke, her raspy voice falling from the speaker.

“In the spirit of transparency, we want to be honest with you about your blood results.”

You stood from the bed, moving to one side of the barrier. They were intimidating like that, standing shoulder to shoulder with a natural beauty. It made you want to shrink. If not for the paper in their hands you would have curled into yourself at the sight.

“Don’t tell me I’m dying.”

“No, honey.” Wanda shook her head, “Quite the opposite, you’re getting stronger.”

“I don’t understand.”

Natasha lifted an eyebrow and pressed the paper against the glass so you could read it. None of it made sense, it was lines of DNA that looked like musical notes. You shook your head, giving her a confused look.

Natasha scoffed, peeling the paper from the surface of glass. Wanda bit her thumbnail nervously. “According to these…You’re Asgardian, Kitten.”

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utterlyotterlyx · 9 days

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part One

Summary - As the ways of the world shift, you find yourself torn between those who have always cared for you and the life you feel like you were made to live.

Warnings - none right now really, some angst, harmless flirting, tension, slight fluff, mention of wing loss

Hauntingly beautiful was one of the few ways to describe the High Lord Eris Vanserra.

There was a rake-ish look about him, like he belonged in one of Nesta's regency era romance novels that had her eyes widened and bottom lip caught between her teeth. It was rather infuriating.

Tension continued to linger, one of doubtful trust. Rhys wanted to trust Eris, he wanted to trust that the new High Lord of Autumn knew what he was doing, but something was stopping your brother from investing into the change fully and you weren't quite sure what.

Eris sat opposite you in the meeting chamber, eyes trailing down your figure approvingly, a crown of golden leaves dipping to his brow and accentuating those russet eyes that always sought to burn you with their intense glare. It had been strictly forbidden for you to leave Velaris on your own after what had happened to your elder sister at the hands of Tamlin, you understood it of course, Rhys wouldn't survive if he lost you too, his youngest sibling but by far the fiercest creature in all of Prythian's history.

War was scoured into your bones, hellfire raged in your soul, and you were very well known for your tactical prowess and outspoken nature, from your quick wit to your dry humour. Some said that you were the reason that Prythian still stood, you had worked very hard to undermine Amarantha right under her nose, feigning innocence and naivety that she drank from like a fountain of youth, you had been instrumental in the war against Hybern too, and Eris had watched in stoic awe as you wielded your sword like it was an extension of yourself, gracefully cutting down your victims and using your power to decimate hoards of males into ash.

Eris wouldn't admit it, certainly not in front of Rhysand and Cassian who made it his mission to keep Eris as far away from you as possible, but he thought that you were the most incredible thing he had ever witnessed. And as you sat before him, draped in a sheer black dress adorned with white crystals that allowed him to relish at the picture of your full breasts, it was taking him a lot of will power to not fling you on that table and take you right there and then, even if your brother was watching, he didn't care.

The meeting was simple, Rhys wanted to know how the politics between the courts were to improve with Eris now at the helm and steering the Autumn Court ship. Feyre sat to the left of your brother, dressed in her usual ethereal pale blue, another garment made by your mother, but less impressive than the items you owned. You sat to his right with Azriel to your side, Mor, Cassian and Nesta occupied the seats to Feyre's left in that order, and Lucien lingered somewhere between, still on the side of the Night Court, put just an arms length away from his brother.

Eris was stoic and cruel, power radiated from him, but you seemed the be the only one who saw what lingered beneath that façade. The occasional split second glance he would direct to Lucien when he thought no one was watching, one full of regret and sadness. It seemed that there were many more layers to Eris Vanserra than any of you realised.

"How do we know that you won't rule like your father did?" Rhys had craned forward in his seat, his jet black crown glistening in the darkening sunlight that poured down through the domed windows.

Eris' jaw ticked, a clearly sensitive subject for him, your chin dipped in examination and for a moment, he glanced to you, fire in his eyes that mirrored the very faint sphere of orange that curled around pupils, "Would I have bothered to overthrow him to only rule like him?" Eris replied with his own question and you felt Mor scoff from where you sat, your older cousin not enjoying the sentiment one bit.

"Who knows what you males strive for," Mor bit, more like growled, at him, you face remained distant and cold, you didn't remove your gaze from him, everyone knew that they couldn't hide from you, you were too observant.

Guilt had swirled in your gut at the sight of him, under examination by a group of people he longed to be somewhat friendly with, to work with to better the lives of his people, and Velaris was rich in knowledge and power, it was a court that you would want on your side if you walked a second in his shoes.

It wasn't often, if at all, that you would speak at meetings, it was an unspoken rule for you to be seen and not heard, your presence was powerful enough, and you did have the knack for making things worse with your jabbing words, "Raise your hand if your father is a piece of shit," the room fell silent, and Azriel had his head dipped low to conceal his smirk, his knee nudging yours gently in warning.

Slowly you raised your hand and looked to Rhys who rolled his eyes, but didn't raise his own, he didn't want to indulge you. In turn, Cassian raised his hand, Azriel lifted a finger as did Mor, Lucien's hand raised with his elbow still firmly plastered on the arm of his chair, and Eris didn't dare partake, but you all knew his answer already. Counting under your breath at the souls that had answered your call, you relaxed into your seat, "I don't know about you Rhys but I don't think you're anything like our dear old dad. Mor is nothing like hers, nor is Cassian or Azriel or Lucien. If we were all held accountable for the actions of our fathers then we surely would live in the most tyrannical world possible, no?"

Rhys raked down the iron clad walls of your mind and you gave him a pointed look, refusing him entry and smirking at the twitch that pulled at the corner of his lip, "There is no evidence that Eris will be like Beron, and refusing him alliance only makes such possibilities more likely," you picked at an invisible thread of your sheer black garment and feathered your fingers down the bargain tattoo that curled around your upper arm, one that matched the mark Azriel bore in the same place from a stupid bargain you had made what felt like eons ago.

"In simple terms, brother," you fluttered your eyelashes at him, ignoring his clear fury, "Get over yourself and give it a chance. Prythian can't be a land of harmony when males with big egos can't see the opportunity before them."

Feyre had confined herself to looking at the wall, shifting uncomfortably at the colliding forces of power between you and her mate. It was never something she had the courage to stand between, she'd perish if she even tried. Nesta was smirking at you, the only one who would hold Rhys accountable and live to see another day, relishing in the fury of the High Lord.

Another nudge prodded into your thigh and you snapped your gaze to Azriel, "Will you stop nudging me?" You swatted at his thigh, "This world has been through enough already, Amarantha, Hybern, Koschei... It's time that we made a world to be proud of and we can only do that if we work together."

"Who knew that the fawn had a voice?" Eris spoke and you sent him a satisfied grin, Rhys looked to the High Lord and snarled at the name he had dared to direct to you, but quickly composed himself with a warning glace to you that meant he would deal with you later.

Matching is tone, you teased, "Thank you. My campaign for High Lady is imminent," Cassian let out an audible low chuckle, his shoulders shaking next to Nesta who was doing her best to contain the amused smile that fought its way onto her lips.

Typical y/n.

Looking to Rhys, you smiled and waiting expectantly, he seethed out his answer, "Fine," he moved his attention to Eris who was still smirking at you, eyes blazing with curiosity, "We will work with you, Eris. Let's call this the start of a long lasting alliance between our courts," Rhys rose to his feet, "Please feel free to stay the evening and join us for dinner. I will have a room prepared for you."

An olive branch, one that made you avert your gaze to Eris to see him nod in shocked agreement.

Rhys lowered himself so that his head lingered by your ear, his fingers curled around the back of your chair, and he growled, "My office. Now."

A chill slithered down your spine and you smiled thinly at no one in particular before rising from your seat and following Rhys from the room. The pair of you didn't utter a single word as he led you through the halls of the House of Wind, walls that seemed to shrink away from your pulsating energies as he led you to his office and shut the door behind your entrance.

"What in the name of the Mother do you think you're doing?" Rhys seethed as he rounded your smaller figure, towering over you to the point that he shrouded you in the shadow of his figure and flexing wings.

With a raised brow, you spoke calmly, "I highly suggest you take a step back and stop trying to intimidate me," his gaze softened slightly and he obeyed you, stuttering back a couple of feet and tucking his wings out of sight.

"Eris is not someone that we should have an alliance with," he leaned against his desk and watched as you turned around, lifting the heavy glass lid to his whisky decanter and pouring two glasses of the amber liquid before extending one out to him which he took without question.

You waited until he had taken a sip before talking, "Regardless of what you think, you know I'm right," you took the seat opposite the desk and nestled into the deep brown cushions, leaving him standing before you, "Rhys, you wear a mask to the rest of the world, in everywhere other than Velaris. Cauldron, you even make us follow suit. Has it ever entered your limited mind that Eris may do the same, that he too is hiding behind the mask he has created for himself?"

Rhys frowned, "Did you just call me stupid?"

Scoffing, you sipped the amber liquid and enjoyed the delicious burn that sank down your throat, "All you're doing is proving my point."

Rhys threw his head back and inhaled deeply, clenching his eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose, "You know that I love you," he lowered his gaze to wash over you, but you didn't falter, you had never faltered under Rhys' glare, you were perhaps the only one who wasn't impacted by it, "You have to understand that I will always do what is right to protect our home, to protect you."

"And you have to understand that I will always do what is right to better the continent, not just our people."

The relationship between you and Rhys was a complicated one. There was a lot of love and respect between you, but his fear of losing you often clouded his mind. His word was law, but your word was the final judgement. The reckoning. There was nothing even he could do to change that.

Many males had attempted to get close to you, but none were good enough to appease the expectations of the High Lord of the Night Court. It wasn't as if you cared. You required an equal, someone who wouldn't diminish your power, and males had the tendency to attempt to control you.

Rhys had even refused your hand to Helion, much to your disappointment, and before the acts that led to the demise of your sister, he had refused to extend a thought to Tamlin who had clearly been besotted with you. Thank the cauldron for that at least.

"You have a strong will, y/n," a backhanded compliment if you had ever heard one, you rose from your seat and placed your empty glass on the bare surface to his left, "It will get you in trouble."

"Good. I can't wait."

Leaving Rhys alone in his office had filled you with far too much smugness and serenity.

The golden tainted pink hue from the sunset poured through the large windows, trickling up the walls and coating your skin in its soft shimmer as you paced before them.

Black fabric chased after your steps from your dress sweeping in the breeze you had created in your movements, you could feel the comfort of your chambers, you could almost taste it as you rounded the corner and entered the room without a second thought.

The familiar skitter of cool kisses swirled around your ankles and you didn't need to look up to see who was splayed across your cream comforter, "I know what you're going to say," you disappeared behind the thin clouded dressing screen and peeled your dress from your body, rifling through the railing full of ornate pieces whilst Azriel examined your silhouette from his place on your bed.

"Then I don't need to tell you how stupid you are," you looked over your shoulder at his words, like he could see your expression which was one of confusion and annoyance, "I swear you get more defiant each day."

Peeking your head around the corner of the screen, displaying your face and shoulder to him, you spoke, "It's the only exciting thing I have to do around here."

Azriel quirked a brow to you, his shadows dancing around his shoulders at the sound of your voice, "That's not true," you scoffed at his words and disappeared back behind the screen, continuing on your quest to find a dress for dinner, "There are plenty of things to keep you entertained in Velaris."

"Azriel," you deadpanned, not stopping your movements in plucking dressed from the railing and holding them up to your body, "Rhys doesn't let me do anything other than train and sit and look pretty and intimidating. I'm Velaris' glorified trophy."

A particular garment caught your eye and you smirked, taking it from its hanger and pulling it up your form. It was a stunning piece, one you rarely wore. An ornate solid gold bodice of blooming roses and ivy that connected to a red wine skirt that possessed a high slit, cream lace poked from the highest point of the slit and kissed your thigh.

"That's not true. He let you fight against Hybern," Azriel told you pointedly, seemingly becoming lost for words when you stepped from the screen and soothed down the skirt of the dress before bending down to secure golden heeled sandals to your feet.

"I fought against Hybern because there was no choice to do anything but that," you hadn't spared the Shadowsinger a glance but smiled softly at the shadows that curled lovingly around your ankles, you held two sets of earrings up to your ears and tilted your head in the mirror, "I'm sure if there was an option to stay home then Rhys would have gladly assigned the position to me."

Azriel rose from the bed, moving behind you and resting his hands on your hips, his hazel eyes boring into your reflection, "He worries about losing you. He couldn't stop what happened to your mother and sister, I think he just wants to be able to stop anything from happening to you," Azriel smiled at you and your orange ringed violet eyes softened at him, "Wear the red ones, they match the skirt."

"Thanks, Az," he hummed in response and took a step back, the place where his hands once lay turning cold and begging for more, "Shall we go to dinner then? What an exciting evening we have ahead of us," Azriel chuckled and offered his arm to you which you gladly took, allowing him to pull you from the room.

There was an unspoken attachment between you and Azriel, like it could be something more if you were both willing to risk your already perfect relationship on the notion of it. You both knew that feelings lingered, but if Rhys ever found out it would surely cause a civil war within your family, and you'd hate to think where everyone would stand in that battle.

The dining room had been beautifully dressed, a black tablecloth and tall golden candles, gold plates and coated silverware, ornate but expensive goblets and an array of blood red and orange flowers, no doubt a nod from Feyre of respect toward Eris.

Azriel left you at your usual seat with a subtle squeeze of the hand before rounding the table and taking his spot opposite you, scuffing the chair against the stone and sitting in it as you did in yours. Family members trailed in one by one, Nesta took her seat beside you and Cassian sat to her left, Mor took the spot beside Azriel and Elain took the other, then Amren entered, then Rhys and Feyre, the former of which nestled into his spot at the head of the table.

Then Lucien and Eris entered, and the High Lord eyed the last two remaining spaces, the one at the head of the table opposite Rhys or the one next to you, and Eris strode beyond his brother to steal that option. He teetered at the edge of it and peered down on you questioningly, "May I?"

Feeling Rhys' eye on you that you didn't dare to acknowledge, you nodded gently, "Of course," he took your answer in the palm of his hand and used it to pull the chair out, his scent of mulled wine, candied orange and pine filling your lungs as he sat.

Eris was dressed well, a red waistcoat adorned with golden swirls, a cream shirt that was tucked into the waistband of his black pants, like he knew to match your own attire, something that not only you noticed.

Idly, decanters of wine floated about the space, pouring themselves into the empty goblets placed at every seat, and food began to appear, dish by dish, on the long table. Platters of roasted vegetables, silver dishes piled with meats, bowls of fresh salads, boats of sauces, and most importantly, towers of desserts that made your eyes glisten, wanting to skip the main course entirely and help yourself to a slice of cake.

Clearing his throat, Rhys raised his goblet, tearing you from your salivating thoughts, "A toast," he smiled thinly at Feyre whose gaze shifted to you and then to the male at your side, "To new alliances."

The room repeated the sentiment before digging in, doing their best to ignore the swirling tension caused by Eris choosing to spend the evening sat beside you. Though, that soon vanished when Cassian started telling his many tales of his escapades throughout the years with the intermittent corrections from Rhys and Azriel.

"I should thank you," a low voice spoke from your right and you craned your head toward Eris, his hypnotising russet orbs were fixated on you, dark and full of wonder as they raked over your face, "For what you said at the meeting. I hope you weren't scolded for helping my cause."

Eris' voice was low, only loud enough for you to hear and you alone, his eyes were soft and stare void of that stoic cold that usually possessed it. He looked like a completely different person, there was actually kindness bubbling within him, genuine sincerity in his words.

"Rhys can scold me all he wants, it'll never change anything," you replied in the same tone, the orange ring in your eyes burning like wildfire, "Anyhow, it's a cause worth supporting."

From the corner of your eye, you caught Lucien watching you with intrigue, his fingers encased with Elain's atop the table with a knowing glitter lingering in his expression, he grinned as his brother spoke and leaned toward Elain to whisper something beyond your realm of hearing, "I can't remember the last time I saw you before Hybern."

Smirking, you asked, "Have you been thinking about me, High Lord?"

"It's not hard to," he replied honestly, watching the faint blush creep up your cheeks, "When was the last time?"

Humming, you thought about it, it wasn't often you actually left the confinements of Velaris thanks to your brother's protective antics, your eyes glazed over slightly, "It was Under The Mountain, at the beginning, after she," you rolled you shoulders, coiling them in the memory of that night.

That's right, the last time he had seen you before the war had been the night after Amarantha had stripped your wings from your body, carving them off with her talons to punish Rhys' reluctance. It had taken everything within Eris to not set her alight on the spot, if he could have, after he had seen your shaking pale form wandering the halls like a ghost.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's fine," you insisted, sighing deeply, "It's a fading memory now, I've adjusted well."

"I'm glad to hear it," the genuine tone to him was confusing, but you always knew there more to him than what met the eye, and part of you was proud to have been correct about it.

Eris had grown up listening to the stories about you and Rhys, two formidable winged warriors that exuded darkness and power, who held the capacity in their fingers to shatter kingdoms if they so wished it.

It didn't scare him. You had never scared him actually.

"Make the most of this alliance, Eris. It's very rare that I speak up on such matters," you told him, sipping from the wine in your cup and placing it back onto the tabletop under Rhys' watchful gaze.

There was an elegance about you, Eris noticed, the poised shoulders and perfectly slender pointed ears, the violet eyes with the speckles of Autumn orange, the grace laced in your words. It was a spectacular thing to witness up close.

"Then why did you?"

There was a moment of contemplation and you furrowed your brow in thought, "I can't sit by and be part of the reason why people suffer," very unlike Rhys, "Other than that," you trailed off, looking deep into his eyes like your violet pools were drowning in his soul, "I'm not quite sure."

Author's Note

Part one to the series I've been planning for awhile.

Prepare yourselves for a pining, needy slow burn with a hint of forbidden love x

374 notes · View notes

coconutdays · 7 months

Text

emotion

s. you get stuck in your crush/study buddy's room during a freak storm.

w.c. 1.8k

w. gn! reader (I thought a fem reader when writing this, but then I noticed that I didn't really make it gender coded! so I figured it was a plus it came out this way!) , suna! x reader , fluff! suggestive! bc there is some steamy kissing and of the making out

a/n: Earth spun a wheel between Rin, Osamu, and Atsumu for me to write for and it so conveniently picked Suna Rin

Ending up in the same room as your classmate/crush during a storm, at night, with no electricity had never been on your bingo card for the year. Yet, here you were, blinking back into reality seconds after the lights just went out.

"Shit" Suna sighs. You can hear him start to move, making out the shadow of his body standing up and moving towards his beside drawer.

"I have a candle in here." He mutters, the obvious rummaging being heard before it ceases after you somewhat see a cylindrical shape in his left hand. The smell of paraffin going up into flames accompanies the slight bit of light coming from the match he just lit, it fades away the moment he blows out the match after getting the candle to light.

It isn't much, the light coming from the medium sized candle, but it lets you fawn over his face, his entire being. It's a flattering light and it sets a mood you wish you could do something about.

"You think the Professor will cancel the test?" He shivers a little when he sits down across from you again, rubbing his hands together.

That's the reason you were here in the first place, to study for that damn test.

Suna had sat next to you at the beginning the semester after getting there at the last minute and the last open seat had been the one next to yours. Ever since then, you had exchanged small talk and numbers with each other. It happened frequently, befriending the people sitting next to you in class, some days it was a great help to ask each other if the other had done the homework, understood yesterday's lecture, or if they had notes because one of you couldn't go to class that day.

But you only got excited when Suna asked you for your version of the notes from the previous lecture. Everyone always complimented your penmanship, but the first time he got your notes for reference against his, he sent a text:

lol you write really pretty

You smiled to yourself at it when he sent it and could only send a thank you back.

He didn't really befriend anyone else in the class and neither did you because of it. You didn't have the chance to when any free time in the class where the professor hadn't started lecture yet was taken up by conversation he tried striking up with you. It automatically made you study buddies by the time this first test came around.

"Well if it looks like the rest of the campus, or at least half of us lost electricity too, then it might be a no brainer to save it for another time."

He lets out a puff of air as a sarcastic laugh at the situation, "It's like that shit you say. Being delulu is the--"

"Solulu." You finish for him, giggling.

He lets out a 'heh' and leans forward while hugging himself even tighter, "Sorry you got stuck here. The storm really came out of nowhere."

"I'm sorry I got stuck here." You counter, your body starting to shiver at the increasingly cold air filling up the room with harsh cold rain storming just a window away and no heater to protect against it. "I'm in your room after all."

"It's fine," He says, his eyes acting a bit more fox-like than usual as he stares you down before he adds, "Let me give you one of my hoodies, it's getting cold."

And before you can interject and say that won't be necessary, which it really won't--you don't need Suna's hoodie, you're fine freezing to death if it means you don't have to breathe in his intoxicating scent clinging to your skin--he's getting up and walking to his closet.

As quickly as he gets up, he's coming back and handing you a hoodie, the specifics of it like the color or design not something your eyes couldn't register at the moment.

"Thanks." You meep out, basking in the moment your head first slips through it and you feel the hoodie envelop you. You didn't know what was keeping you warm now, the actual material draped over your body or the fact that it was Suna's and he had worn it before, it was his.

When you look back at him and squint a little, you can tell he's wearing one of his own too. One he rarely wore--yes you noted how frequently he wore his hoodies, you couldn't help but make the observation.

"Well if we think tomorrow's test is gonna be cancelled..." Suna drags on, "We can play Mario Kart on my switch?"

You weren't one to frequently come across the opportunity to play on a switch, so you asked, "It can work without wifi?"

"Yea, " He nods, "it's the only I can think of to keep us occupied while we wait to see if the electricity comes back any time soon."

You can think of something else.

And so does he, but he won't tell you that either.

While he gets up to get his console from his desk, you nervously near his bed.

"Hey, Suna, can I play on your bed?"

A shiver runs up his spine and his eyes go wide as he's disconnecting any unnecessary wires from his switch. Time stands still for him and-

"Suna?"

"Yea!" He manages to blurt out like it's not big deal as he comes back to you with the console in hand. When he joins you in sitting on his bed, next to you, propping up the little screen across from both of you, he says, "And you can call me Rintaro. If you want."

You lean over a bit to look at him curiously, noticing a slight change in his demeanor, as if he had something else busying his mind. His eyes seemed caught up in a thought.

"Sure."

That small observation of yours became a thing of the past soon after you had finished playing two matches against him.

He had become your worst enemy.

"You do not let me catch a break!" You laugh and yell at the same time, shoving him with your shoulder.

"Just because you don't play it often, doesn't mean I have to go easy on you." He defends himself, smirking as he looks at you from the corner of his eye while he picks a new map to play on.

You toss your controller to his side of the bed to throw an over exaggerated fit.

"Well now I don't wanna play if I'm gonna keep getting bullied like this." You haughtily huff and cross your arms

Suna jokingly rolls his eyes and is about to ridicule you when you're both suddenly enveloped in darkness again.

The candle must've gone out.

And for some reason, the lack of light made for a lack of noise in the space between the both of you. The rumbles coming from the storm outside filled the void between the both of you and eventually closed the space between you two when a monstrous crack of thunder and lightning made you yelp and grab onto whatever was near.

The shock of the sudden noise had you breathing a bit quick and with your arms around Suna's torso, who instinctively put his arms around you too.

It was quiet, yet not at the same time.

The roaring storm outside was noisy enough,

but you and your study buddy weren't saying anything.

Your hands can feel how sturdy he is underneath the layers of his shirt and hoodie. He's big, an obvious fact considering he is tall and a volleyball player for the school, but it seems so much more prominent when your hand feels so small compared to his huge back.

His breath tickles your ear and you move your head back when you shiver because of it.

His face is now in front of yours because of it. And now you're both in a position to kiss. You can feel his body and mind contemplating it, by the way his head moves a little and how his breath starts to sound. You don't doubt that you're probably doing the same.

When you feel his hand squeeze around your hip, you give him a small peck on the lips. It took all of your courage and some of the intensity from the moment to do it.

You have no opportunity to berate yourself for doing it when he chases after your mouth immediately when you're about to pull away.

And now you're making out with...

"Suna." You sigh, feeling him manhandle you onto his lap

"Rin." He breathes quickly before he reaches for your mouth again.

You can't help the mewl you let out from savoring the moment like the repeated relief of taking off your shoes after a long day of walking.

"Rin." You repeat after him.

Rintaro, Rin, is breathing just as heavily against you as you are. He's going as far as you are, whatever you do, he does in return. When you swipe your tongue against his lips, he does the same, except you open your mouth to him when he does.

And now you're both kissing with tongue.

You moan particularly loud and he juts his hips up into you right before he pulls away from you, the look in his eyes something you so agonizingly wish you could see right now.

"I like you a lot." He confesses, moving his hands down to slither across your thighs and hold them there.

"I like you a lot too." You say back, gripping onto the hem of his hoodie.

"Yea?" Rin breathes against you, going back in to kiss you

"Mhm." You sigh in relief.

"Fuck, "He can't help but push up into you, "You're so fucking pretty."

"You think so?"

"Know so." He groans and heads towards your neck for an assault, holding you in place by the back of your neck. "I want you so bad."

You grind your hips against him, turned on by the confession, "I want you bad too."

BOOM!

And you get scared shitless by the bitchy thunder again, dragging you away from the intensity of your increasingly intense makeout session with Rintaro and into a breathless heap of laughter with him. He had fallen back onto the bed, dragging you down with him and into his arms, snuggled into the crook of his neck.

"Does this mean I can finally follow you on Instagram?"

"Huh?" You're still dazed from the oxygen sucking of a makeout you just shared with him

"I found it a long time ago, but you never gave it to me so I didn't wanna seem like a stalker. You looked really pretty in your post last week though. I like pink on you."

"Stalker!"

#suna rintarou #suna x reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro x reader

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i-smoke-chapstick · 3 months

Note

Mal!wally with an equally obsessed reader? Jade West style? wow, that looks hot.

,CHERRY BOMB’

-EVIL!WALLY CLARK X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; yandere/evil hcs w wally clark, with an equally obsessed jadewest!reader!

⋆ tags/warnings. wally clark x female reader. obsessive behavior. wally being feral! Also, made reader more like Jade! So this includes Jade’s aesthetic and some physical attributes such as peircings, etc.

♫ “Down the streets I'm the girl next door, I'm the fox you've been waiting for.” ♫ Cherry Bomb by The Runaways

𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐊

• Let me just say, wow.

• Anon you are right- because you two are the hottest couple in that goddamn school.

• Wally looks at you with so much adoration. Knowing you belong to him, that he has you. That you’re just as infatuated.

• He is hard

• In all seriousness, he loves you. You reciprocating that is all he’s ever asked for. It’s perfect for him.

• He’s a naturally jealous person, although he will attempt to cover it up. The more you let your jealousy be known though, the more he finds it hard to control his. He becomes comfortable with his outbursts.

• Becomes less nice with you, more rough.

• “Whats the matter? You can take what you dish out, yeah?”

• You love it. And it spurs him on.

• He has a bad habit of picking at your peircings, invading your private space.

• In his eyes, you two are now mutually devoted to one another. There is no such thing as personal space.

• As Rhonda said, he is a golden retriever. His dedication and loyalty has only increased ten-fold now.

• Speaking of Rhonda, he won’t let you anywhere near her. Nuh uh. He hates seeing you two- the matching black outfits. You two look like you belong together, and in his words;

• “It just pisses me off. Don’t talk to her.”

• Aside from this, he is facinated with your aesthetic. He makes you watch the breakfast club in the school library with him at least ten times over, telling you how much you two are just like Allison and Andrew.

• He was a highschool jock. He was used to having the cheerleaders fawn over him. The difference is; he never paid them a passing glance. But you? You are his everything. The light of his life. He practically worships you- loves you like a dog. So when you show your devotion, whether it be a snide comment to someone your jealous of, or a full on makeout session in front of whatever ghost holds his attention (as if he even has an attention span), it makes him weak in the knees.

• I mean this literally. He’s definitely the type to get on his knees for you, reassuring you in MANY talkative whispers that he is only yours.

• “They don’t mean a thing. Not to me. They are nothing. Nothing compares to you, (Y/N). Please, trust me.”

• If you want someone out of his life just say the word- and they are gone. You’ll never see him around them again.

• If another ghost asks either of you out, he makes it a point to show off your relationship blatantly. He is unafraid of PDA. And if they persist? Well, someones getting clocked in the face by a 6’2 athlete. Even if he was the one said ghost was hitting on.

• He’s hopelessly devoted to you.

#x reader #wally clark headcanons #wally clark fic #wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits #evil!wallyclark #yandere!wallyclark #mal!wallyclark #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim #yandere #yandere x reader #wally clark x maddie nears

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lovelyney · 1 year

Text

─────────𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒──────

DESC: “Maybe he shouldn’t have hidden his feelings behind harsh words and accusations,” he thought as he stared at your lifeless body.

PAIRINGS: Tighnari x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: angst

WARNINGS: hanahaki, throwing up, blood, tighnari’s a dick, dead dove do not eat.

GOOD ENDING.

FLORIST’S NOTE: here it is! finally. also, autosave feature? bless u, tumblr gods.

FLORIST’S NOTE﹙02﹚: uh Fawn here a few months after this was published </3 i'm super flattered you all like this so much; truthfully, i'm very insecure about my ability to write good angst, so it means so much!!

SONG: Secret Garden ― Empath-P

YOU OBSERVED WITH DEFEATED EYES as Tighnari, yet again, swaddled your hands in gauze. You tried to take out a Withering Zone by yourself, wanting to help clear his schedule. However, despite having a vision of your own, you weren’t very familiar with the process and ended up getting hurt, much to the forest ranger’s dismay.

Your throat ran dry as you struggled to find the right words to say without upsetting him more. It was clear he was about to snap at any moment, so you chose to stay silent, despite your anxiety eating away at the stillness.

“(NAME) for the last time, stop biting off more than you can chew,” the fox-eared boy berated, his gaze as bitter as the medicine he brews. “What was the point in bothering with something you clearly had no idea how to deal with? were you begging for a death wish?”

You swallowed thickly, your stomach churning as he awaited your response. “My only intention was to take some of the burdens off your shoulders. . .” You answered feebly.

With an exasperated sigh, he rubbed his temples in frustration. “So you wanted to help me and ended up doing the exact opposite? Yeah, that sounds about right.

“(NAME) this is what? The fifth time you’ve gotten yourself hurt trying to ‘help?’ Don’t you realize you’re only making things harder for the both of us?” Tighnari crossed his arms against his chest, growing more impatient with you by the minute. “Achons, we’re going to run out of medical supplies if you keep getting into situations like these. Can’t you learn to take a hint?”

The harsh tone of his voice engulfed you in shame, his words ripping your heart into shreds. “I—I just—” your attempt to defend yourself was met with the burning stare of his multicolored eyes.

He chastised, “save it, (NAME). You give me the same exact excuse every. single. time. Taking care of you like this again is already a migraine as it is.” With that, he packed the medical supplies into his backpack, not sparing you another glance.

Tighnari criticizing and reminding you how all you do is pull everyone down had become routine by this point. He never told you directly that burdened everyone, yet he clearly didn’t care about hurting your feelings, so you never understood why he didn’t just give it to you straight.

He never acted so rashly to the other trainees, so it led you to believe that it was personal. That said, you don’t know what you did to make him hate you so much. And to add salt to the wound, you admired Tighnari a lot. Hidden beneath his sarcastic nature, he was diligent and dedicated to his work. You could tell he cared for everyone within the confines of the forest, although you highly doubted that to be your case.

As you carefully observed him, you not-so-surprisingly developed feelings for him. You find it hard to believe now, but he treated you gently when you first met him. That memory felt so foreign after all he did was suffocate you with his accusations. Since then, you shoveled your feelings into the very back of your mind.

“Are you even listening, (NAME)?” badgered Tighnari, snapping you out of your depressive reverie.

Nodding slowly, you chewed the inside of your cheek, feeling your emotions consume you from the inside out. “Y—Yes, of course, Master. . .”

“Really? Because ever since I got here, you’ve done nothing but stare at the ground helplessly.” He shook his head and sighed in defeat, “whatever. It’s not like you ever heed my advice anyways.

“Collei and I are going to be gone for a few days on an expedition. You are not to leave Gandhara Ville until I return. Do I make myself clear?” he said, his large ears flicking in aggravation.

That immediately grabbed your attention as your eyes shot open. You deflected, “I—I’m sorry?! Tighnari, I get that you’re mad at me and all, but I am not a child! I don’t need supervision!” Your face burned hot with humiliation as tears formed in your eyes.

Tighnari’s eyes softened briefly at your defeated expression before returning to their normal venomous state. “Then quit giving me a reason to treat you like one, (NAME). Now, I’ll be taking my leave.” Before you could answer, he left your room, leaving you alone in your misery.

After a few minutes of silence, Collei wandered in, her gaze saddening as she regarded your trembling figure. “Oh, (NAME). . .” She lamented and sat next to you, gingerly wrapping her arms around you. “I’m—I’m sorry. . . I don’t know why he’s been treating you so horribly lately; he’s usually never like this. . .” Muttered the girl as she rubbed circles on your back. “I’ll talk to him, o-okay? Please don’t cry. . .”

Withdrawing from your friend’s hold, you rubbed away your tears with a forced smile in hopes of comforting her. “Don’t worry about me, Collei. I’ll—I’ll be alright,” you soothed, your weakened voice revealing the truth behind your words.

Tighnari peeked his head over the opening, swallowing thickly when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks. “Collei, come with me, would you? I need to have a word with you.” He dictated, averting his regard away from you.

The girl perked up, “y—yes, Master!” She stood up and turned to you, carefully bringing your head to her chest once more. “I’ll figure something out, okay? D—Don’t worry,” she assured before bidding you goodbye and following Tighnari out.

After the two left your line of sight, your throat and chest tightened. Scrambling into the bathroom, you stumbled over, suddenly coughing violently. You wiped the sweat from your temple, sighing in relief when it ceased. “What caused that I wonder?” You questioned and fluttered open your eyes. While staring downward at what appeared to be lotus petals, you suddenly felt overwhelming dizzy. Had it gotten that bad?

Your hands clutched your chest as bile burned your esophagus. You weakly shoved yourself up and flushed the toilet. You knew that hanahaki was life-threatening if not treated immediately. However, confessing seemed impossible given the circumstances of your relationship and who you’re in love with. Your other option was to have it surgically removed, but that also meant removing your capability to feel emotions. Nevertheless, you wanted to be a forest ranger like Tighnari and help people, so you’d much rather die of the flower that bloomed in your chest than be an empty husk and not feel anything.

Laying on your bed, you watched Tighnari and Collei converse—probably about your probation if you were to be completely honest. You let out a meek laugh and closed your eyes, allowing your body and mind some well-deserved rest.

“Maybe if this disease takes me, I won’t burden him anymore. . .”

The following morning was horrible. Following your wake-up, you had to race to the bathroom to throw up again; your lungs and chest burned from how fierce the fits were. Making matters worse, you got far from enough sleep because of the feeling of lotuses climbing your throat.

“(NAME)? It’s Collei! I just wanted to check on you before Master and I head out!”

Your eyes flew open at your friend’s voice. Shit. She wouldn’t take this well at all. Quickly flushing the toilet, you grabbed a towel and patted your face dry, hoping your tiredness wasn’t evident.

“(NAME)? Are—are you alright?” She worried and walked into your bedroom. Her expression dimmed upon taking in your condition. “You look so tired! Did you not get enough sleep?” Fuck.

You compelled a weak smile, “I—I’m fine! Don’t worry about me, I’m just a little—” Your sentence stopped midway as you covered your mouth, hacking up more bloodied petals. Your hanahaki did not seem to appreciate you lying about your feelings for the sake of others.

Collei paled immensely, her hand going to mimic your own. “(NAME). . . You—you’re. . .” Tears welled in her rose-colored eyes as she watched you recover. “We have to tell—”

“NO!” you interjected sharply. Sighing, you let out a quiet apology. “I—I’m sorry. . . I didn’t mean to yell like that. I just. . . please don’t tell Tighnari.” You muttered, voice enfeebled from your lack of sleep.

“B—But, (NAME). . . If y-you don’t get help. . .”

“I know. But I don’t think I can take any more of his disdains. especially when he’s—” You, or rather the hanahaki, cut you off as more petals emerged from your throat and onto your shaking hands.

Seeing the connection, her eyes softened. She lamented, “oh, (NAME). . . You like him, don’t you?” Her arms circled around you, “please, I—I don’t want to lose you. I promise I’ll talk him into apologizing! You don’t deserve this. . .”

Shaking your head, you gently patted the girl’s hair, her heartfelt words shattering your heart furthermore. “Collei, I—I’m not sure I can promise anything at this rate. . .” You imparted. “I’m not sure if Tighnari is someone you can reason with, as well. . .”

“Collei? It’s time to go,” Tighnari announced from outside. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. . .

The green-haired girl pulled away from you, looking at your (COLOR) eyes with her own pleading ones. “Everything will be alright, okay? I promise. . .” She sniffled.

You nodded despite your views contradicting hers. Watching her leave, your gaze, hopeless and cold, flickered to Tighnari. You couldn’t help but wonder what occupied his mind; has he even thought of you and how you felt once? Probably not.

The fox-eared ranger caught a glimpse of your eyes and shivered; that’s right, shivered. The way they looked so dull put a pit in his stomach, and he couldn’t tell why at the time. He looked at his student curiously, “what were you two talking about?”

Collei sighed, “i-it was nothing, Master. . .”

The realization that you didn’t have much time left dawned on you as you gazed in the mirror. Your once bright and lively eyes were now dulled and impassive, almost as if you’d already gotten the surgery. You heeded Tighnari’s words, staying locked inside your hut and not bothering anybody. After all, that’s what he wanted, right?

Your condition worsened faster than you initially hoped. Every day and night, you retched at least five blood-covered lotuses, leaving you more weakened than the last. You couldn’t even estimate how much blood you had lost by now. With each passing second, your life slipped from your fingers like grains of sand. It seemed to tease you with the thought of death, never actually finishing you off—until now. In most cases, people have at least a few weeks to make the choice; you, unfortunately, did not with how fast your feelings developed.

Reaching up, you wiped the blood from your lips, leaving a metallic taste in your mouth. Normally you would be grossed out by it, but it was almost comforting by now because it signaled you didn’t have to endure this pain much longer.

You staggered to your desk and pulled out a few things: an envelope, a piece of paper, and a quill. Your fingers trembled as you dipped the feather in ink and scrawled the name ‘Tighnari’ on the envelope. He’d admonish you for the handwriting, but when you’re on death’s doorstep, you can’t really expect perfect writing, can you?

With an unstable breath, you began composing the letter with all the energy you could gather.

“Dear, Master Tighnari. . .”

Tighnari took a deep breath as the faint outline of Gandhara Ville came into his field of vision. Ever since had and Collei finished the expedition, this dreadful feeling like something horrible happened stuck to him like a leech. And no matter what he did, it continued to suck the energy out of him. In retrospect, he’s had this feeling since he left. Worse part about it? He couldn’t figure out why; it’s like he could sense an anomaly but couldn’t see it.

Collei quickly picked on her teacher’s anxiety and flashed a smile, hoping to comfort him. “M—Master, I’m sure everything will be fine! You know how nice (NAME) is! I’m—I’m sure they’ll forgive you! they’re normally so sweet no matter the circumstances!” She encouraged, though, deep within her mind, she was scared herself. She knew how much his words impacted you.

Tighnari dragged out a sigh, his fingers going through his dark hair. “That’s. . . That’s the problem, Collei. I. . . I treated them so fucking awful, and all they did was sit there and take it they didn’t dare speak up,” he seethed, wincing as he recalled the look in your eyes before they departed. “Archons, who knows if they’ll find it in their heart to even forgive me? I treated them like a toddler when I really meant to protect them. God, my delivery was fucking horrid, wasn’t it? I really messed this up.” He looked at Collei with defeated eyes, “That’s what you were talking to them about, wasn’t it? How vile I treated them. That’s why they were crying the other day.”

The trainee harshly bit her lip, knowing that’s exactly what happened. She knew that he treated you like a weed in a garden full of lotuses when in reality, you were the flowers themself. And now, with your hanahaki, Celestia knows how much pain you must be in—both physically and emotionally.

Only then did she remember that you had gotten hanahaki the day they left, and her heart sank. She swallowed hard, feeling her heart weigh heavy in her chest as it pounded against her ribcage. “Um, M—Master Tighnari. . .” she quavered.

He glanced her way, the pit in his stomach swallowing him whole when he regarded how horrified she appeared to be. “Hm? What’s the matter, Collei?” Inquired the boy, his ears flickering in nervous anticipation. Oh god, did something actually happen to you?

“I—I normally wouldn’t ask of you something like this, but please, when we get back, g-go check on them? They’re. . . they’re not well. . . ” She uttered aside, her voice wobbling as if she was on the brink of tears.

Her words confirmed Tighnari’s initial thoughts; there was something wrong. “Collei. . . what happened?” he spoke curtly. Hearing no answer, his chest tightened, and he could hear his breathing pick up. “Collei. Tell me now. I need to know if they’re in danger.” His voice rattled as he communicated, his anxiety clawing at his every thought.

Collei’s shoulders shook with small sobs, “(NAME). . . They—they have Hanahaki. They didn’t want me to tell you because t-they hic knew you’d yell at them in some sort of way. . . A-and they’ve had it for a few days now and—”

“—Collei, I need you to be honest with me. Does (NAME) have romantic feelings for me?”

Glancing up at her teacher with a pitiful expression, she wiped her eyes with her sleeves. “Yes, Master, t—they do. . . I believe they have for a while,” she sniveled.

“Fuck.” He muttered and sprinted towards the ville, leaving poor Collei behind. However, at that time, I don’t think she minded; she recognized that he needed to find you as soon as possible—to save you.

Pushing past everyone in the village, he shoved himself inside your hut. “(N-NAME)?! Are—are you here? We—we need to talk!” He called out, his voice breaking from breathing so heavily. “(NAME). . .?”

……

“Shit, shit! (NAME), where—where did you go now. . .” fretted Tighnari, his mind racing with every outcome possible. His eyes caught onto a wax-sealed envelope that sat neatly on your dresser. He picked it up and felt an overwhelming sense of dread wash over him as he stared at it. “It’s addressed to me. . .”

“ Dear Master Tighnari,

As much as it hurts to me say this, but by the time you’ve finished reading this, I’ll have passed away. I don’t quite know what to put in this letter. . . Even as I’m writing this, my mind is blanking. I feel like there’s so much I have to say, but unfortunately, I don’t have much time before this disease takes its final toll on me.

I’m sure Collei’s told you by now of my hanahaki. I don’t blame her; the poor girl looked like she would pass out when she found me puking flowers. I know what you’re thinking, “(NAME), you lummox. So you’d rather just sit and watch yourself die than confess?” Well, Tighnari, would YOU confess to someone who’s admitted you’re nothing but a thorn in their side? If you haven’t figured it out by now, it’s you who I’m in love with. Have been for a while now.

I must apologize for plaguing both you and everyone in Gandhara Ville. That was never my intention; I only wanted to repay the kindness everyone gave me, no matter if it cost my life or not. But, unfortunately, as you said, I ended up doing the entire opposite. And for that, I sincerely apologize. I wish I could take it all back.

I hope you know that despite everything, I don’t harbor any negative feelings toward you. And maybe, in a different reality, things wouldn’t have turned out like this.

Did you know that I’ve admired you from day one? And I’ll continue to do so in the afterlife. You’re genuinely incredible in my eyes; you’re diligent and passionate, everything I wished I was. You’re incredibly dedicated to the forest, which is admirable. And I supposed that’s why I fell so incredibly hard for you. Maybe you knew I loved you; maybe you didn’t. It’s all meaningless now that I lay on my deathbed made out of my own flowers. It’s strangely comforting, even though I’ve lived far from a fulfilling life.

I honestly didn’t think my feelings had gotten this bad; I thought I had successfully pushed them away for the greater good. But, with how fast the hanahaki materialized, it seems I unestimated myself. That proves just how much I truly adored you. Never doubt your capabilities, alright? You’re truly unique, Tighnari.

This is where we part, my dear fox friend. My strength is running out, and so is the ink. Once more, I’m truly sorry for all the pain I’ve caused; I hope you can find it in you to forgive me. Please take care of Collei for me? Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t make it; Celestia knows I tried to push through for her.

I love you, Tighnari. My love will continue to bloom for you in the form of lotus flowers. So, whenever you see one, I hope you think of me and how much I admired you. (:

Yours Truly, (NAME). ”

The words blurred together as tears muddied Tighnari’s vision. Every written word cut deeper and deeper, but he forced himself to read it all. At first, he thought it was staged or a joke of some sort, and a part of him wished it was, but he could recognize your handwriting from a mile away. “No, no. . . this cannot be happening. . . They can’t be—” he thought to himself as he pocketed the note. He seethed, “FUCK! Where could they have gone?!” He pulled his hair stressfully as he wracked his brain for answers.

“My love will continue to bloom for you in the form of lotus flowers.”

His eyes snapped open when it clicked—the river not too far from here was known for the lotuses that bloomed in it. You couldn’t have gone far either, not in your condition, at least.

Tighnari hurriedly sped out of the ville, ignoring everyone’s worried stares. “Please don’t be too late please be alive.” He prayed silently. He halted and surveyed the familiar spot, spotting a figure lying near the river’s shallows. he uttered, “(N—NAME). . .?”

Stumbling over, his pretty eyes drowned in tears the second he laid eyes on you. You were sprawled out, bloodied flowers sticking to your lifeless body. Blood smeared on your lips and fingers, and thank the Archons, your eyes were closed, or else Tighnari would’ve gone into cardiac arrest from crying so hard.

He collapsed at your side, cradling your face in his hands; the warmth of his palms contrasted with the chill of your skin. Shaking his head in denial, he thumbed at your face hoping to find some kind of reaction that proved you were still alive. “No, no, NO! Come on, (NAME)! W—wake up! You c-can’t. . .” He hiccuped.

Tighnari gathered you in his arms, concealing his face in the crook of your neck to hide how hard he sobbed. “I. . . I’m so sorry, flower. T—This is all my fault. . . I-If I would’ve just told you how I felt instead of being a moron, then none of this would’ve happened—you wouldn’t have. . .” A sob strangled his throat and cut off his words.

“I—I thought I was protecting you from yourself. . . B-but I somehow did the exact opposite. I was the cause of your pain, and because of how shitty I treated you, you feared telling me how you felt. I. . . I’m so sorry, (NAME). Y-you didn’t deserve to go through so much pain alone.”

“Master, I heard—o-oh my god.”

Collei’s eyes rounded in horror, her figure starting to tremble as the situation settled in her head. “(N-NAME). . .” she croaked and dropped next to Tighnari, her hands shakily finding yours. Like her mentor, she was quick to shake her head in denial. “N—no. . . They can’t be. . . How—how did it—” bewailed the girl as her hand squeezed your fragile one. She turned to Tighnari, who looked to be on the verge of passing out from crying so hard. “M—Master, they’re. . . they’re not, r-right? They can’t be. . .”

The ranger shakily pulled out the letter and handed it to her, watching as the girl sobbed harder at its contents. “T—They found comfort in their death because of how much pain they were in. . .” He murmured weakly. As he pressed a kiss to your hair, he noticed that your fingers grasped something.

Tighnari gingerly grabbed your hand and unraveled your fingers from what you held. A singular clean lotus. He smiled, weak and faint, plucking the lotus from your grip and tucking it in his hair—a memento of your love for him and his love for you.

“My love for you will continue to blossom in life and in death. . . N—no matter where you are, you will be the first and last my heart is occupied with. There’s no room left for anyone else, flower. . . There never was in the beginning.

“I will look at each and every flower and think of how selfless and caring you were. Your love and dedication will continue to burn bright in Gandhara Ville. I will make sure of it. . .”

#|✿| — 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍’𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 #✿| — 𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐇𝐒 #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshinxreader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x y/n #tighnari oneshot #angst #genshin angst #tighnari angst #hanahaki disease

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icyowl · 6 months

Text

Gojo Soulmate AU

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader

Synopsis: angst, soulmates, what more could you want?

A/N: none

——————————

A wave, a flower, clouds, animals, rain, a sun setting over water. Soul marks were natural, tattoo-like birth marks possessed by everyone. It was up to each owner to understand the different forms or phases of their marks and what they meant. A fox chasing a hare might run across the body to convey glee or sorrow, or the fox could slow or change color. Maybe the hare would extend its lead every time the owner became lonely or perhaps a change of direction would indicate the health of the bond. Learning the various were fun but very necessary; bonds needed to cultivated. The repercussions were unsavory, dangerous even.

A tree grew at the base of your back, with boughs spreading across your body, extending down your limbs, and weaving up your neck until the ends just barely poked out from the collar of your shirts. You'd like to call it captivating — after all, not many had a soul mark so large — much like the man who it belonged to.

The mark didn't start so big. At first it was a sapling covering little more than the column of your spine. The branches were short and the whole thing was faint until you met him. When you did, the tingle in your spine turned into a singeing burn. Gojo caught you while you writhed. . . certainly not the best introduction.

Gojo's white beta fish swam up and down his right arm in response to his mood or outside stimuli. When you touched it the first time, it nuzzled and tried to nibble your finger, much to Gojo's embarassment. It was a tender moment that got swiftly interrupted by Gojo's phone. Again.

He had to leave. Some save-the-world mission that only he could handle.

Again.

You'd been shy when you first met him. After all, Satoru was intimidating. Wealth, physical and political power, good looks; you were at first afraid to do anything the might out yourself as someone inferior. Now? Now you probably came across as any other fan, fawning over the scraps of his attention.

Desperate? Sure, yeah, you were desperate, but it had been weeks (maybe months) since you felt normal, let alone good. A perpetual weakness had overcome you as if your blood sugar had plummeted, exhaustion plagued you yet sleep was elusive, migraines turned overhead lights into suns and basic sounds into caterwauls, and a sickly wheeze could be heard when you breathed if one listened closely enough.

Your soul mark was suffering too. The stinging on your back had become unbearable. Such painful burning — plus all the other afflictions — dulled just a little any time you could get him to look at you.

The branches that had once wound heartily around your body now shrunk to half their reach, leaving black shadows in their wake, and the vibrant blue flowers adorning the limbs all but disappeared. Watching them shrivel up or break off the limbs and fall off your body put your stomach in knots that never unwound.

Satoru didn't visit often enough or stick around long enough to pick up on your plight; so much for the Six Eyes. It was easy enough to hide your state for the sparse few minutes you got to be with each other before he teleported off someplace else. He already held up the world. . . how could you make him choose between it and your silly little needs?

Shoko's treatments were beginning to lose their affect; Nanami would have tied you to Gojo himself if Gojo would ever pick up the phone; even Yaga yelled at you to figure it out or risk getting temporarily suspended.

A subtle pang of hunger came from your stomach.

You were impressed a body as sick as yours barely felt anything.

Several seconds passed from the time you stood until the time you made it to the door. If only you knew how close you were to danger.

“Where are you going?”

Satoru. His tone cheeky as always.

You turned to see your soulmate, seemingly non the worse for wear. Had the bond become so distant that he hadn't felt any of your pain? He teleported in and now stood before you without a hint of distress or concern from what you could see of his face. Satoru held the same casual posture he always did. Without worry. Without weakness. You wished you could say the same. Right now all you could comprehend were the the dark spots floating in your eyes and the desolate cold in your core. Finally the breaking point came. Satoru only had time to sense something was wrong — his mouth went slack, his brow line tightened — before he was rushing to catch your fall.

If it were anyone else, they may have failed. You didn't simply fall. You plummeted.

You didn't feel his hands under your body nor did you see his beta fish furiously trying to swim towards you from under Satoru's shirt sleeve. It was probably a good thing — your soul mark, or what was left of it, had begun to bleed, covering Satoru's hands. What would you see in his eyes if you removed the blindfold?

“Not you too.” He whispered.

Even in your delirium the words sunk in. There was someone else. All this time you foolishly, stupidly, blindly believed he was away for work. It all made sense now. Just as scorching hatred churned your blood to fire, the effects of bond abandonment finally consumed you. Your face contorted to one of rage before going slack altogether. Satoru, for all his faults, held your chilled body close to his. Could he salvage a bond on its deathbed?

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

You woke to elephants on your chest and cotton in your head. Some bus had hit you repeatedly. For fun.

“Hey.” Someone said next to you. It was soft, gentle, and would have put you at ease had you not looked up and realized you were sprawled over his naked chest. “You've got some serious bedhead.” Satoru added in jest, lithe knuckles kissing along your cheek.

With what little strength you regained you grabbed the railings of the hospital bed and struggled to pull your body off and away from him. Your feet had hardly touched the ground before you collapsed, and yet still you tried to distance yourself from him. Searing pain erupted from your spine to the point where you cried out at the agony. Your body was trying everything it could to keep you there but you ignored it, crawling towards the door to escape the man you should have felt blessed to be pressed against.

Satoru — rendered immobile by the shameful fact that his own soulmate was trying to escape him — rushed you as soon as your wail reached his ears. One hand around your wrist was all he needed to stop you. You turned to him, gazing at the fingers wrapped deftly around your arm, then onto the glacial eyes opened wide with shame and worry. With a lurch you took your arm back. Satoru seemed possessed; he hardly moved, only continued to stare and gawk. He didn't seem to be looking at you. Through you was more like it.

Cool blood disturbed the hairs on your hand as it dripped freely from a hole left by the I.V. you ripped out in your haste. Both of you watched it hit the ground blip blip blip blip but neither of you moved.

Satoru blinked, coming back to the present, and reached for the wound before you yanked it out of reach. “I know there's someone else. . .”

A full second passed before he reacted. “What?!”

“I don't remember much thanks to the side effects of abandonment, but 'not you too', that I remember. So? Get it over with. Break the bond already. I'm sure you want to move on.”

“You know that's not true.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, because if there was, my mark wouldn't look like this.”

For the first time since you woke you saw his soul mark — the white beta fish with piercing blue eyes. Again and again it attempted to swim to you until it came to the edge of his arm. That's when you began to notice the condition of it, too. Pure snowy white had turned grey and dingy, fins had become tattered, and the entire animal shrunk to barely an inch in size. It seemed the poor fish, in its plight, had begun to turn on its owner: bruises and bite marks from the fish positively covered Satoru's entire arm from shoulder to hand. The untouchable had been harmed.

“I once knew someone who. . . I missed the signs when he was hurting, too. I could have helped him, if I had seen it in time. The same thing almost happened to you. If there was someone else, this damn fish wouldn't have made me bleed every time I left you.”

You froze. All the worry and pain and loneliness had been ricocheting between both ends of the bond all this time. He really had felt everything. “But you didn't react. You acted like you were fine every time. You should have been in pain—”

“The Strongest can't be in pain.” Satoru said. His eyes were powerfully bright. “Or be lonely, or show fear. The Strongest can't show weakness. My emotions would have only added to yours.”

“At least I would have known you felt something!” You yelled hoarsely.

He startled while you continued.

“Did you really think that by closing yourself off, I would have somehow felt better than if you had shared your feelings? Who told you that?”

Again Satoru could do nothing but stare. Some family member said so at some point, right? Maybe? When? Now he wasn't sure. Only your feeble attempt to lift yourself off the ground brought him to the present. The moan of pain you tried to hide made him flinch as if he experiencing it, too. Satoru reached for you but immediately recoiled — what would he do if you pulled away again?

Instead, in a rare moment of maturity, he tried to get you to come to him. How ironic: he'd been doing the opposite while you yearned for his presence and now that he was willing to give it, you might already be gone. “It's really important right now that we touch. The bond could become damaged beyond repair at this point. You could get seriously hurt.”

“I'm already seriously hurt.” You replied. He looked at the concave shape of your cheeks, the pallor in your skin, the wobble in your muscles, and knew time was running out.

“Please.”

You looked deeply into his eyes, saw them wide and glistening, and felt a twinge through what remained of the connection. Maybe it was muscle weakness (after all, you felt like you might hurl or faint) but you relented, all but falling into his arms. He quickly pulled you sideways into his lap. One of his hands rubbed your back to ease the scorching heat in your spine while the other held the bleeding hand without hesitation. Immediately the blood began to ebb. After a few seconds the wound from the I.V. began to bring itself together. His heart, which pounded in your ear, steadied and quieted.

With a conscious effort you forced your body to relax, then sighed when it gave in (gave out, more like it) and sagged against him. Based on your inhale, Satoru knew you were about to speak, and shushed you before you had the chance. “Just breathe. You'll feel better soon.”

“You don't know that,” you quietly tutted, “the bond might already be broken.”

“I have faith. I'm The Strongest, and because of that, so are you.”

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

Satoru wouldn't move for over an hour. The hard floor was probably killing him, yet he remained with you in his lap, coaxing your head under his every time you grew restless. Only when the pain waned did you manage to sleep. Somewhere during that time, he moved the two of you back to your bed. It must have been a struggle to wedge all of himself into the single cot with you too, but when you woke, there you were, back in bed, laying atop your soulmate like he'd fashioned himself into your personal throne.

Shoko's prodding woke you up. “Hun? Just hear to get your blood pressure.”

“Mmm,” you replied noncommittally while she slid the cuff up your arm. Satoru pulled you closer and only when you looked up at him did you realize he did while still sleeping. He looked almost odd now that his visage was so relaxed — mouth barely open, lashes laying across his sharp cheeks . The gentle rises and falls of his chest were something you hadn't seen in a long time.

“You two sure cut it close.” She added.

“Not m' fault.”

“I know. I know he's tough to love, believe me, and I'm sure you couldn't feel much after the bond degraded to this point, but I took his vitals while you were asleep. You might not want to hear this, but he does have you as his emergency contact, so I'll share it since you're bonded.”

Your head lifted. The stiff squeeze of the inflating cuff was forgotten.

“His bloodwork was atrocious and his cursed energy was pitiful. Electrolytes, red blood cells, white blood cells, plasma; I could hardly even find a vein to pull from. If I didn't know better, I'd say he had cancer.” Shoko spoke quietly.

Your face must have given you away — she smoothed out the hair on the top of your head and tapped your nose once she was done examining you.

“He should be okay now. You're recovering slower than he is.”

“How long have we been sleeping?”

“About nine hours.”

You groaned. It felt like years. “How much longer till we're back to normal?”

“Give it time. Your bond took a major beating. If you rush things, you might end up here again.”

Your head slumped against Satoru's chest. “Okay.”

You watched her leave. Only when she was half way out the door did she fix you with a mischievous smirk and a devious wink. “The closer you are, the faster the bond will heal.”

Then Shoko left, with you likely gawking at the door.

“I like the sound of that.”

You whipped over to Satoru. He'd woken up at some point and was now staring at some spot on your neck before flicking his eyes to yours. The pulsing blue peaking out from under his bangs made your spine quake.

“But Shoko said you were sick. How can you—”

“Good. Maybe then I won't be so rough with you.”

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #soulmate au #soulmates #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #io has ideas

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foxglovepng · 2 months

Note

Hello, first time requesting anything and I hope I do this right. I like what you've posted previously and I hope you enjoy this request idea.

I saw screenshots of a post recently about a TWST x Tinkerbell/Pirate Fairy event where shenanigans happens and everyone's UM's are switch around.

But what if Yuu got someone else's UM? Would they go power mad? OB by accident because they couldn't control the amount of magic? Just chill until the fairies corrected the switch? How would the owner of the UM deal with Yuu handling their power feel? And how would they feel about being magicless for the time being?

Suggested students are Grim, Azul, Jamil, Vil and Deuce, or anyone else you would prefer, all of them are fun options.

Hope you are doing well 💜

Characters: Idia, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Deuce, Jade, Malleus.

CW: Swearing, Probably an OOC Vil, Azul has a mental breakdown, Idia freaks out. SPOILERS FOR BOOK 6 (Idia), SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 (Malleus), Probably OOC most characters tbh.

A/N: I heavily loved this movie as a child and I still love it and watch it on occasion. I know this movie so well I can predict the dialogue :sob: I switched out Grim for Idia because I believe there is a mention that Grim had a curse in Book 6 (correct me if I am wrong) But it was while Idia was discussing some possible theories about the Overblots. Because I loved this movie so much and I am watching it as a I write I will be yapping...a lot. Like just yap yap yap yap and I will be making more parts to this because I have a lot of Ideas. I also added Malleus because he is the only one in Diasmonia with a confirmed/offical UM.

I will also be calling you the Fairy 🧚anon <3

Feel free to let me know which fairy(ies) are your favorite. I love Vidia and Fawn.

W/C: Didn't check Fox yaps a lot (2.540k, 7 pages)

NOT PROOFREAD

For context there will be a Mage like Zarina who was obviously an outcast and who was very innovative and wanted to discover new things (Such as the Fairy Dust) The way I imagine it the mage probably wanted to do things that were considered "Illegal" for Mage magic the NRC students ran into this person and they used their UM to switch the powers of students.

(Character's relationships can be read as platonic or romantic)

Deuce (Bet the Limit)

He is not worried. Although he'd be more concerned about Yuu accidentally using it mid class and hurting someone. His UM is mainly dependent on others attacks so I don't think there would be an issue about hurting someone deeply to the point of hospitalization.

He is worried about the fact he can't use magic anymore. He used his flaunt his magic a lot in middle school now he's not no power (Karma really came back for him didn't it)

If Yuu casually happens to get his ability to summon cauldrons it would be hilarious if Yuu dropped a cauldron "Accidentally" On Ace or Crowley's head. He'd feel bad, but It'd be funny.

(Insert video of Ace getting bashed in the head with a Cauldron but it's bad apple.)

He'd eventually adapt to losing his magic, but he does want to try and get it fixed.

He will help Yuu as much as he can with controlling his magic. If they have any questions he will gladly answer them and help to the best of his ability.

Yuu is least likely to go power mad due to Deuce's UM being low on the list for Powers that will make Yuu go bat-shit insane and commit world domination. (Yes I have an actual list)

When Yuu Overblots

He would probably cry like genuinely.

Yuu has gone through enough in TWST and when they finally snap he would be extremely worried for Yuu because he is scared they will get hurt badly/hurt others badly.

Deuce's UM is actually scary so when it comes to overblotting Yuu could hurt A LOT of people.

Riddle's UM won't be able to help and Yuu could just basically absorb every attack that hits them.

Yuu could probably kill someone with his power and that is a really scary though to think about.

(Deuce can too since it is quite his power)

On a skill level there is a possibility Yuu could lose control of the magic, on a power level they could injure a lot of people. Either way Yuu and other people will be getting hurt.

If they somehow stop Yuu's overblot GET THEM THERAPY INSTANTLY make Leona or someone else rich pay for it.

Deuce would look like a sad puppy because he just witnessed his friend he deeply cares about just snap. Probably wouldn't leave Yuu's side while they recover.

He probably feels the most guilty as he couldn't do anything and wished he could have helped more.

Peep Grim crying about his henchman.

If Yuu DOES kill someone um mage jail? or how would that work since they aren't from TWST would they like be in custody in their own world???? because quite literally they have no information on Yuu to send them to Mage Jail.

I'm done yapping moving on

Azul (It's a Deal)

Instant panic attack instantly.

Considering his backstory and why he is becoming a Mage he would definitely freak out over not having his powers. Bro needs his octopot.

When he learns it was Yuu who got his powers he would feel a bit more relieved

"Yuu can I have my powers back? just make a deal with me."

"HOW TF DO I DO THAT????"

Jade and Floyd are laughing their asses off when he tries to teach you how magic works. They are not going to do anything to help AT ALL.

Azul does NOT feel happy about being powerless at ALL. He has a business to keep running and Yuu is struggling.

I can imagine Yuu accidentally making a contract and stealing someone else's power and then having to keep THAT ONE under control.

Overall I feel like Azul makes top 5 of "Yuu will have a panic attack from being unable to control this power"

Azul would probably adjust to the change but he would not be happy with it at all.

There is a possibility Yuu could go power mad, but Azul is based on capitalism Yuu is not. They would probably only go power mad as a way for threatening/bargaining to go home.

When Yuu Overblots

Pray Yuu has the power under control

Azul's Overblot 2.0 except no tentacles

Azul tries to help the best he can and then gets blasted with magic right in the face. (L bozo)

When Yuu just snaps Azul wishes he could of down more, but he realizes he only was helping Yuu for himself. Not for them. They had to deal a lot and he probably was the one that broke the camels back for them to overblot.

On a skill level and Power level it would probably be the same as Azul's however Yuu has less control over the power.

Yuu is getting back for when he overblotted. /hj

When Yuu unoverblots Azul gives them an apology and also starts the process for them to see a therapist. Probably get's an earful from Deuce and Ace about pushing Yuu over the edge.

Jade (Shock The Heart)

Is not worried.

He doesn't need magic to intimidate people although he needs magic to obtain information.

"Oya? it appears the prefect has my power."

You know how Azul and Deuce would help? He wouldn't

When it comes to Jade's power it can easily be exploited to gain all kinds of information from someone and in the wrong hand's world domination can be caused.

Yuu gets help anyway from Tweedle Dee and Dum over at Heartslabyul.

Yuu would accidentally use Jade's power on people and would probably gain information they wouldn't want to know and probably has gotten traumatized.

Begs Jade to take his power back and he just giggles at Yuu. He is fine with not using Magic, but it is funny to see Yuu attempt to use his magic.

He's enjoying you struggle. However if it gets to a certain point he may help keyword may.

When Yuu overblots

No one is worried lmao.

I mean overblotting is bad, but Jade's power is like so??? normal?? that an overblot would be dangerous, but his conditions are it can only be used once so if Yuu acivates it they probably wouldn't be able to use it again.

hopefully..

If not they are royally fucked tbh.

Jade can't do anything at all and probably will get grilled later for not helping Yuu.

When they unoverblot Yuu Jade is the first one to get them to the infirmary carrying them bridal style (slay king) and making sure they recieve proper treatment. Also apologises for not helping them learn as he was worried they would go power mad.

Jamil (Snake Whisperer)

He is flipping out.

Number 1. Yuu just got this power and barely can control it IMAGINE WHAT COULD HAPPEN.

(Manipulate Crowley into sending them home)

Number 2. Jamil needs his magic and as Kalims retainer he needs it more than Yuu :sob:

Jamil is already stressed out with wrangling Kalim 24/7 now he has this on his hands. Bro just might overblot from stress.

Either way he helps Yuu with gaining control because Yuu almost made Ace choke on his food from accidentally using the UM. And almost made Jack run into a tree (It was funny actually)

We all know how Jamil's overblot turned out someone call up the Octotrio to deal with this again.

There is a possibility Yuu could go power mad. However Yuu is a sweetheart (possibly) and wouldn't control their friends.. right?

Jamil physically can't adjust to being magicless and tries to literally hunt the person down but fails miserably.

When Yuu overblots

I dare Yuu to throw everyone who's fighting so Jamil can get yeeted too (I'd be funny I swear)

Jamil overblot 2.0 except Yuu loses control and accidentally brainwashes everyone. whoops

Jamil got his Karma from brainwashing the whole dorm

Wait if he can brainwash the whole dorm could he brainwash all of NRC? 😨

When Yuu snaps Yuu is coming for everyone INCLUDING CROWLEY his ass is not getting saved.

I pray for everyone who is fighting Yuu. Compared to Deuce's though I'd rather get brainwashed tbh.

If Yuu somehow manages to get pulled out Kalim is making sure everyone who was affected is okay and Jamil is rushing Yuu to the infirmary. When Yuu snaps it would be dreadful tbh and I don't think people would make it out of this OB with Yuu unless they physically got hurt to the point of unconsciousness, or Malleus was like "No don't overblot you're too sexy aha".

Jamil also apologizes for not being able to do enough and makes sure Yuu sees a therapist.

Snake whisperer overblot Yuu and Bet the Limit overblot Yuu are genuinely scary and I'm terrified.

Vil (Fairest One of All)

Instant panic

Vil's UM is so powerful that when a curse is placed with conditions it cannot be lifted even with Vil's interference unless the conditions are met.

Imagine Yuu with that power. Crowley suddenly has a way for Yuu to get home.

Vil would be more concerned with his potato having a power they CANNOT control. Yuu will be accidentally placing curses on people.

Ace would suddenly get paralyzed from the neck down and Yuu didn't know how they did it.

Yuu accidentally paralyzing people is crazy.

Vil helps Yuu try to gain control of the power but has a really hard time.

This is another one where if Yuu were to overblot it would be because they accidentally use the UM too much and are stressed because of it.

Vil doesn't mind being magicless however do NOT let his father figure that out he might force Vil out of NRC into modeling.

When Yuu overblots

Uncontrolled curse magic with a stressed-out overblotting Yuu. Yeah this is up there with Bet the limit and Snake Whisperer.

Someone is probably dying.

Vil almost killed Neige for gods sake imagine what YUU COULD DO.

Vil tried to curse Yuu mid overblot but forgot he couldn't use magic.

Vil is actively sending Rook after the mage who switched powers. Vil wants his potato back.

If Yuu manages to snap out of an OB Vil is also the one making sure Yuu gets treatment. He will also pay for their therapy and treatments.

When Vil gets his hand on the mage she will not be existing anymore /hj

!!!SPOILERS FOR IDIA AND MALLEUS BELOW SPOILERS I REPEAT SPOILERS I SAID SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!!!

You have been warned

Idia (Game, Set, Match)

Every time I say Yuu is terrifying with a certain OB It gets worse. (I should make a list tbh)

Idia is freaking the hell out. Probably has a panic attack but we aren't there yet.

Idia's UM literally control the gates to the underworld and basically keeps the blot monsters in and if Yuu accidentally opens that.

I pray for everyone's safety.

Idia has probably headed a warning about this and is actively hunting down the mage. Ortho is helping too.

This is one of those where I say Yuu should not have it because with one wrong move and hundreds if not thousands of people could get hurt.

Idia is panicking Yuu is panicking Ortho is trying to calm them down.

Yuu most likely overblots because Idia is freaking them out, and they don't want to open the gates to hell.

I wonder if one of his parents could also open and close the gate with their magic that will literally help.

When Yuu overblots

Run everyone the gates of hell opened again.

If I had a nickel for every time someone overblotted and opened the gates of hell I'd have two nickels. It's not a lot of nickels, but it is weird that it happened twice.

Idia is making sure the literal gates of hell did NOT open, and surely enough they did.

Crowley is probably getting sued

In Theory the battle could be easy however when it comes to the UM someone tell Yuu to close the gates.

Blot monster domination 2.0

Ortho manages to hunt the mage down, but only until after the overblot is over and the gates have opened.

Idia completely forgot about Yuu's condition so when they switched powers he was more focused on closing the gate. He got grilled for that by Ace and Deuce who carried Yuu to the nurses.

I feel like this one is scary but more in the sense that Yuu has the power to the hell world.

Malleus (Fae of Maleficence)

Do I even need to say how bad this would be?

I know damn well most of Diasmonia is tweaking that Waka Sama just lost his power.

When Malleus learns it's Yuu he's more worried about them being stressed out over this and tries to help them the best way he could and even gets Lilia in on it.

Malleus is one of the top 5 mages in the world Yuu is probably one panic attack away from overblotting and putting everyone's ass to sleep.

Malleus is also concerned about the possibility of an overblot so he is definitely trying to keep them from overblotting. Whatever his child of man needs he will snap his fingers and it's done.

Yuu wants a massage? Malleus will arrange that. Yuu needs food he will buy Yuu some. Yuu wants ice cream? He wants some too. Yuu wants a fucking break? He will threaten Crowley for one.

He understands the power that was given to Yuu is a lot handle and will accommodate his Child of man (They are getting married after this)

He is also sending Silver and Sebek after the mage and the mage may or may not be existing after he finds her.

When Yuu overblots

As of 2/26/24 not all of Diasmonia has been updated/finished so I have no information as to how it will end/ how his overblot will go. But let's just imagine it.

Malleus fell into a dream world where he got to be happy with his Child of Man. He is King, he has children, and he's with his Child of Man happily. :SOBBING:

When he get pulled out from the dream he's like why :( probably all pouty since it was a good dream. And then remembers Yuu overblotted and is like no my child of man.

He is the first one to instantly get Yuu help bro can't teleport, but he can run and if he can still turn into a dragon he can fly.

He apologizes to Yuu even though he did all he could he still feel like he could have done more. He gets Yuu all of the treatments they need instantly and when the mage switches back their powers she is deader than his Mom.

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lucienarcheron · 8 months

Text

↠ SJM Masterlist

Below you will find all my SJM fanfics/creations linked. You can also find my fanfics here.

All my writing belongs to me with a disclaimer that any character that isn't an original character belongs to their authors. Do not copy or claim my work as your own. Do not feed my work into AI or third-party platforms. Do not translate my writing without my permission. I do not consent for my work to be reposted anywhere.

Thanks for reading and enjoy :)

Creations/Moodboards; this is across all ships.

Headcanons ; across all ships

—

🌹 A Court of Thorns and Roses 🦊🌸 Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra [ Elucien ]

Bouquet Full of Loathing Rated SFW | Fluff & Humor Flower Shop Modern AU - Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day, slaps 20 bucks on the counter, and says, “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

Bouquet Full of Love Rated SFW | Fluff & Humor Elain visits Lucien at work, new bouquet in hand.

The Sun Rated SFW | Fluff/Angst Elain has a nightmare and turns to her mate for soothing.

No Place I'd Rather Be Rated SFW | Fluff with a smidge of angst. Elain's visions giving her nightmares that can only be soothed by one person.

A Light Against the Darkness Rated SFW | Angst/fluff Lucien battles his own nightmares with Elain there to soothe him.

Forget Me Not Rated SFW | Fluff Drunk Elain and her shenanigans.

Boys Night Out Rated SFW | Humor & fluff Drunk Lucien and his shenanigans. – companion to Forget Me Not.

Sleeping Beauty Rated NSFW-ish | Fluff ‘Wake me up’ kisses because foxboy and flower girl can't help themselves.

A Fox and a Flower Crown Rated NSFW-ish | Fluff + Humor Elain has a vision and it, uh, has her feeling all types of ways.

Tales of the Fox & the Fawn A series of short snippets to fill my Elucien heart.

Around the World - Part 1 | Part 2 | Bonus Rated NSFW | Prostitute/Client AU for laughs.

An Unexpected Visit Rated SFW | Fluff Drunk Lucien visits Elain at an inappropriate hour.

Quiet Thunder - Part 1 | Part 2 Rated SFW | Angst | Lucien expresses his frustrations to Elain. Elain follows up.

Morning Pranks Rated SFW | Fluff.

First Kisses Rated SFW | Fluff.

Instincts - Part 1 | Part 2 Rated SFW Lucien follows his instincts when it comes to Elain. It's the start of something new.

Frenzy Rated NSFW | Elain and Lucien like to spend their yearly mating anniversary fully wrapped in each other, sinking into a frenzy.

A Simple Request Rated NSFW-ish. A still shy Elain finds a different way to tell her mate what she wants.

Inspiration Rated NSFW | Modern AU Aspiring writer Elain Archeron is looking for some inspiration for her new novel when she happens to meet the perfect man for the job.

Oh, What a Night (Elucien + Nessian) Rated SFW | Fluff Nesta and Elain’s first Starfall, the two celebrating it in different ways.

Unexpected Surprises Rated SFW | Lucien has been trying to plan the perfect proposal for his mate for months. Things do not go as expected.

A Bouquet of Good Intentions Rated SFW | This little drabble was inspired by my Elucien Modern AU - Bouquet Full of Feelings series

A New Year with You Rated SFW | Celebrating NYE together

This Time, I'm Ready Rated SWF | Elain has a vision and it has her running.

🍂 Eris Vanserra

Spirit Meets the Bones Rated M | Eris x Iris (OC) | Drama & Romance An arranged marriage brought them together and beneath all the hate, the two are more alike than they’d like to be.

✨🖌Feyre Archeron x Rhysand [ Feysand ]

Big Baby Rated SFW | Humor & fluff | Modern AU Rhys gets drunk at the bar and calls Feyre to rant about how much he loves her.

All It Takes is A Wingman Rated SFW | Humor & Fluff | Modern AU ‘Hey I’m sorry to bother you but I’m trying to convince my friends I’m a sex god so can you please write a fake number on this napkin for me real quick’

Do the Do Rated SFW | Fluff & Humor Rhysand taking care of Feyre's ridiculously drunk self.

⚔️🔥 Nesta Archeron x Cassian [ Nessian ]

Bouquet Full of Lust (ft. Elucien) Rated SFW | Fluff & Humor Nesta gets a little taste of sisterly revenge. | Read after Bouquet Full of Love and Bouquet Full of Love

Oh, What a Night (Nessian + Elucien) Rated SFW | Fluff Nesta and Elain’s first Starfall, the two celebrating it in different ways.

Banned by the Boss Rated SFW | Fluff & Humor Nesta pulls a mama bear move and bans both mating bonds of her sisters.

Till the Darkness Dies Rated SFW | Angst and fluff Nesta’s battle against her inner demons.

Butter My Muffin Rated SFW | Fluff Nesta being a very soft girlfriend in private with Cassian combined with how I picture Drunk!Nesta.

Protect & Serve Rated SFW | Fluff Nesta has a nightmare and just wants to make sure Cassian is okay.

My Remedy Rated SFW | Fluff Cassian helps Nesta overcome her fear of the bathtub.

Change of Pace Rated Steamy | Modern AU “I chickened out of sex ages ago and you haven’t brought it up since but now I really want it, but I'm terrible at communication, so let me just strip shirtless/model lingerie for you until you snap”

Weakness Rated SFW | Steamy fluff Cassian does love his mate.

My Curse to Bear Rated SFW | Steamy fluff | Modern AU Based on the prompt “Matching couple shirts that say “bearer of the curse” on one of them and, “the curse” on the other”

⚫️ Gwynriel

Choices - [ Gwynriel ] Rated NSFW-ish. Gwyn makes choices for her happiness.

👑 Throne of Glass

Boner for You - Elide & Lorcan [ Elorcan ] Rated SFW | Humor & fluff Fake Dating AU where Lorcan just wants Elide to be his girlfriend for a party and Elide wants to pretend she isn’t thrilled about it.

#elucien #feysand #nessian #gwynriel #elorcan #acotar fanfiction #gfics #masterlist #I'll update the links as I keep reposting but I need a post for referencing lolol

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ctheathy · 4 months

Text

A Betrayal out of Nowhere

Zails x Reader

NSFW Oneshot

Author's note: Long time no see, my darlings! things have been a little haywire for me, unfortunately resulting in my long hiatus </3 Understand that this isn't much, but I hope this mini fic can count as some food so my babies don't starve for so long

Once a cheater, always a cheater. A rather popular and certified quote that has oftentimes been proven as correct among mankind. Even you weren't partly safe from the unfaithfulness your fluffy fox mate would end up exposing. But you also weren't exactly freed nor ready for the pitiful begging belonging to the mobian...

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️:

Both reader+character are of legal age or aged-up for obvious reasons in this post!

This is a smut fic, read at own risk. Reader+sub!Zails • Zails cheated on you • High desperation levels • Dry humping • Begging • Guilt tripping(?) • Lack of self control • The situation is very awkward/uncomfortable for you in general • Fight/Flight/Freeze/Fawn response for reader

“God, you are absolutely pathetic, even for a cheater” you spat at the fox infront of you, scrunching your nose in disgust at the mere sight. Zails was currently on his hands and knees, completely exposed in his undergarments as occasional choked sobs and moans were heard in the room. You could feel yourself cringe more at every singular plead he made for you, his petty attempts filled with absolute desperation to get back into your heart, which you just scoffed at.

"... p-please.. I.. ahnn...~ I can't.. h- just spit all over me... Punish me like the absolute filth that I am..."

Your eyes narrowed as you glanced away from him, embarrassment filling your mind. Shaking your head slightly in disappointment. He wasn't gonna get the reaction out of you that he oh-so desired. You weren't gonna go back to him and that was final ...but your eyes couldn't help but soften a really little bit as he said that, watching him go these lengths where he allows himself to be humiliated and used just for the sake of preventing you from leaving.

Zails’ eyes would immediately widen as he realized you were showing even the smallest hint of pity towards him, and the sudden rush of blood and adrenaline he got made him feel some kind of hope. Although he was already stroking the genitalia in his undergarments with teary eyes, he hesitantly stood up and moved towards you, trying his hardest to wrap his arms around you and cry into your shoulder. His grip on you was still tight as he desperately tried to force some sort of response out of you.

As Zails weakly wrapped his arms around you, he was met with the heat of your body temperature, sending a wave of familiarity through his body. You just stood still, allowing him to do whatever despite the awkwardness on your end... A stoic and blank expression on your face as he touched you with his dirty hands. You sighed, slowly lifting up one of your arms, placing it behind his back as you caressed your hand up and down ...But due to the difference in height and the lack of self awareness, your hand ended up going a bit too low, accidentally stroking over his rump.

And that little, accidental touch was all it took to set him off. Zails had become so desperate to feel anything from you that even something as small as you brushing up against his backside made him go absolutely crazy. He immediately became more vocal, letting out a few moaning and whining noises as he squeezed his body tighter against yours. His breath became shallow, and he had become even more desperate for you to show him some kind of ‘affection’ as he rubbed himself against you.

Which quickly escalated in him getting desperate enough that he even began squeezing and rubbing himself up and down your body, just to feel any sort of warmth from you. Zails’ whole body would slowly become hotter and hotter as the realization of how much he wants anything from you began to set in. His voice became more whinier and he was begging even more than he had before, his hands squeezing so hard they were practically white knuckling your body.

"P-Please..! I'm desperate! Y-You're making me desperate! I-I need something from you... p-please!" His body had gotten so tense as he kept squeezing himself against you. Every inch of your body was being squeezed up against his, and he was beginning to get so riled up now that he was beginning to make audible suggestive noises. He was acting out like a desperate animal, and he would even start pushing himself harder into you as he begged and begged.

"I need you... I need you.. P-Please.... p-please, sweet cheeks... I ne-need you!! Let me have you..!" Zails was now panting, as sweat began forming on his forehead, dampening his amber fur. He had started squeezing his eyes shut as he shook and begged, his hands now gripping your body as tightly as possible.

It was a ... Difficult situation to say the least, you weren't denying him what he wanted but you didn't exactly accept his request either. You felt so disconnected with that damned fox ...you couldn't even tell apart the whines of his despair and his lust. So you just uncomfortably continued to stroke and rub your hand up and down over his lower back and tailhead, trying to make him shut up. But it only resulted with both of your closure only making the heat grow even further.

His breaths started to get even raspier as you continued to massage him, and it was very obvious that he was starting to give in to his lust. The lust was starting to consume him the more you touched him, and his whinings and moans were becoming even louder. There was even a visible bulge that began to arise, slowly taking shape from the way he was squeezing himself into you. Zails was so desperate for you, that just your touch alone made him whimper, his lust-fueled whinging only getting more loud.

The twitching bulge was even more noticeable as his undergarments began to become wet with his desire. The warmth of your body was making it hard to hold back with you squeezing him so tightly. He looked up at you with tears in his eyes as he started to beg and moan even more, which you didn't want to give much reaction to. Though you did seem to notice the tears threatening to spill out, as your free hand slowly wandered over towards the bulge on his undergarments, stroking over it with your knuckles with minor pressure.

And as soon as that happened, he even leaned his head back at one point as he continued to moan and whine. The warm and wet bulge was even more obvious as he was squeezing his clothing tightly to him now as he begged more and more, Zails’ fingers clinging onto you as he desperately tried to keep himself from exploding. All while his other hand held onto the back of your neck as his fingers began to squirm and twitch.

For the first time, his voice actually took on a slightly more high-pitched, feminine sounding tone, and he even sounded like he was actually begging you now instead of just simply whining about how he needs you. Zails let out a small, quiet whimper, his breathing becoming much heavier as he was starting to get even closer to his climax. He was panting even more as his muscles began to tense up, his back arching slightly as he continued to squirm. He was sweating even more, and his voice had finally started to crack, becoming even more feminine than the average girl mobian.

His breath was even sharper now as he was almost there, his body now shaking with his teeth being gritted as his hands were so tightly wrapped around your body that his claws were almost digging into your back. He was still begging and moaning, but now it sounded far more desperate than before. "Oh... Oh no... I-Its coming..!" He suddenly squeaked out, as his entire body began to tremble a little bit. His eyes were firmly closed and his mouth was open just a little bit with the tiniest bit of saliva drooling from his lips. It was starting to become obvious that he was going to explode. He was so close to the point where his entire fur now became wet with tears as he tried not to climax, but he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Suddenly, he let out a muffled whine. You could practically feel his back arching as it happened, his pants finally becoming soaked from a combination of sweat and his climax. His body had started to shake violently as his breathing became absolutely frantic, and he was so loud that you were almost sweat dropping with discomfort from the experience. Zails’ hands wrapped around you like a desperate animal as his entire body trembled and grinded against you. His cries almost became screams as he continued to climax, the heat between you being too immense for either of them to even comprehend. His coat became absolutely drenched with his own fluids...

And after what seemed like an eternity, he finally stopped. He was panting and drooling, that little bit of contact had sent him over the edge, and he had completely lost control over himself. His arms were still wrapped around you, his hands squeezing your body as he continued to sob into your shoulder. His entire face was wet with tears, and he didn't even care or notice the fact that he was wetting your clothes. Zails was still crying and sobbing uncontrollably as he squeezed you close to him, holding you as if he wanted to protect you from the evilness surrounding the world. But you weren't having any of it, especially as he already took advantage of the situation and couldn't even manage to control his unending horniness...

The was no noticeable change or improvement regarding the look in your eyes, still lingering with repulsion and complete embarrassment. You shoved him off of you and onto the grounds below as he was crying his eyes out. Meeting his red shot eyes with a blank yet piercing gaze, you held so little emotion. You just felt as if you were looking at a lost cause, one you weren't willing to babysit and take responsibility for anymore.

Even with the fact that your eyes were devoid of any positive thoughts when it came to him... Your gaze was much more similar as if you were looking down on him as an inferior being, and it didn't seem too far fetched with the current state he was in. He held no importance in your life anymore, and he knew it. His shaking only becoming more violent now that he had nothing left to release, nothing left to satisfy you with.

His body only left to quiver and tremble like a desperate, starving animal when you finally turned your back on your now ex-lover

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #tails x reader #sonic the hedgehog #zails the zone cop #zails #zails x reader #zails the zone cop x reader #sonic comics #sonic comics x reader #zails the fox #sonic smut #tails smut

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drarreckyninja · 2 years

Text

belated: drarreckyninja’s top 50 ships of Jul 2022 [32. FAWNS]

Fandom(s): Bones

Pairing: Colin Fisher x Zack Addy x Wendell Bray x Vincent Nigel-Murray x Lance Sweets

Image: *created with discount Photoshop*

Favourite Writing Style: Mod Canon Compliant

My Fic:

Subship(s): Roxela [Roxy x Angela]

Tempela [Temperance x Angela]

#top 50 ships #countdown #my ships #jul 2022 #fanfic #bones #bones fox #fisher x addy x bray x nigel murray x sweets #colin x zack x wendell x vincent x lance #fawns

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sweetcarolina-24 · 10 months

Text

Masterlist

UPDATED MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Full Length Fanfics

Dark Paradise(ACOTAR) (nesta x azriel's sister) Stargirl(ACOTAR) (azriel x rhys's sister) Cherry Blossom(ACOTAR)(feysand x tamlin's siser) Where The Spirit Meets The Bone(FOTA)(nicasia x cardan's sister) Not All Glass Shatters(Shatter Me) Diamonds Can Kill(The Hunger Games) Violets for Roses(The Society) It’s A Scream Baby(Scream)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Azriel:

smut: So Close

Mating Frenzy

fluff The First Taste

angst Spoiled Little Princess

headcannons: what music the batboys would listen to

random: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Eris

series: Scorched Shadows: Part I, Part 2

smut: Little Fawn

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: none yet

random: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Nesta

smut: Look At Yourself

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: what music the sisters would listen to

random: overhated

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Feyre

smut: Good Girl

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: what music the sisters would listen to

random: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Elain

smut: Pretty Little Thing

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: what music the sisters would listen to queer elain

random: honeymoon is so elucien

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Lucien

smut: Greedy Little Fox

Love

fluff: none yet

angst none yet

headcannons: none yet

random: honeymoon is so elucien

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Morrigan

smut: Stay Still The Birchin

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: ritas queer elain x mor

random: vampire is so mor coded

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Cassian

smut: The Headbord

fluff: none yet

angst: The 1

headcannons: ritas what music the batboys would listen to

random: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rhysand

smut: The Mess You Caused

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: what music the batboys would listen to

random: pissing me off fr

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

POLY/SHIP FICS

if it says “x reader” its a poly fic, if it doesnt, its just the two characters. (feyre x rhys, nesta x cassian, ect)

Feysand:

smut: Punishment(Feysand x Reader) Caught In Between(Feysand x Reader)

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: none yet

random: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Nessian:

smut: Pathetic(Nessian x Reader)

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: none yet

random: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Gwynriel:

smut: Shut Her Up(Gwynriel x Reader)

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: none yet

random: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Elucien

smut: Teatime

fluff: Teatime

angst: none yet

headcannons: none yet

random: honeymoon is so elucien

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Emorie:

smut: Somewhere More Private(Emorie x Reader) Desperate(Emorie x Reader)

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

headcannons: none yet

random: seven by taylor swift is their song

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Batboys:

smut: Pure Pleasure(batboys x reader) Training(batboys x reader)

fluff: none yet

angst: none yet

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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wintertimestoryteller · 9 months

Text

Vermeil Adoration

Fierce Deity x Implied Deity Reader (can be Linked Universe or not) Drabble

Me, working on Act IIII and Act V of the LU Fairy Tale Collection: Alright so if we do this with slightly more sleep on us and figure a few things out for First I think it should be good to go-

Also Me: *remembers that because of the nature of the Fairy Tale Collection FD will be missing, is immediately assaulted with an idea, sighs, opening up a new WIP* You know what I'll come back to that, I can't not write for him if he's going to be left out.

For the FD Simps/lovers plus myself as I work on the Fairytale Collection, want to post two chapters at once and also crosspost on Ao3 plus life's been busy, apologies for the delay.

You were created from the breath of life itself.

You are the divinity found in the howling of winds cutting through the woods, the snarling of lightning down to the earth, attempting to touch something it may not have and scorch it so deeply new growth would flourish in a maddened frenzy, the sunlight kissing the ice tenderly though it may never do more than bring the crystalizing to shine, tears dripping knowingly from it's cold gaze as the water turns to rain, watering the land in it's unknowable grief in the closest way it could ever touch the sun in the sky. The joyful sound of wolves singing the moon's beauty with their howls, the birds merrily carrying the melody ever onwards so the sun may also partake of it, gleeful frolicking of fawns and foals discovering the world that the Golden Three left in their wake, the symphony of every animal and nature itself at it's finest.

You look at life itself and find divinity in everything.

So by the nature Farore so lovingly made sure you'd have, one would think you and the one hylians, hyruleans and beasts had dubbed 'The Fierce Deity' would never be able to coexist.

You've heard the one's watched over by your sister in divinity, ever watchful time herself with her diamond wings and gaze who pierced to the end of eternity itself with Nayru's patience whisper in primal terror and avarice drenched loathing about him to the trees in every corner of the land, heard beasts under the watch of death and rot himself curse his name to the winds and rain with as much ferocity and fury induced fear as the restless whispers of those denied existence, your brother in eternity with his shell of obsidian and the flames of Din's desire of consumption ever burning in his gaze daring not cross where the ivory and jade forged spirit passed. And of the horror and wonderment of your wild beings as they've hissed and howled and growled and screeched to the flowers and stones of nature.

A man like the hunt itself, divine without the vermeil breath of the primordial ones. The unrelenting slash of the blizzard gales in winter against any unfortunate to stand in their way, leaving the cold emptiness and silence behind, stealing the air from the lungs of living beings like the ocean for those unfortunate enough to fall with no sign of land. An ivory specter of death whom seemingly clawed himself from the void, an harbinger for the End with seemingly no rhyme or reason for those who he set his sights into, either to devour their divinity for himself or favor or bless.

A being like that should have been anathema to all you are and stand for. Or at least it's what anyone, including your divine sister and brother would reason.

Which is why you couldn't help but find it slightly comedic that the so called 'awful beast', capable of enacting such violence to consume divinity on a whim if tested. Was so very careful with you, head laid upon your lap in a rare moment of rest as you carefully weaved flowers into a crown.

You were curious, awfully so, like the foxes who roamed your woods in search of amusement and play, you just couldn't help yourself. You knew he was coming, how could you not, when the primal fear of living things echoed in the back of your mind, warning you as it warned animals of a bigger predator in the food chain? But you didn't run. Not in the face of narrowed, calculating pale eyes and alabaster hair and the scent of iron in the air, thick and old you couldn't mistake it for anything but blood and the marrow deep certainty of a lonsdaleite persistence.

Maybe you should of, in hindsight.

Instead you just blinked with evergreen curiosity, fascination bleeding from your lips before you could even think of stopping yourself, head tilted.

"My. Rumors are certainly exaggerated, you're beautiful."

The memory of his bewildered, flustered caution makes you smile a bit, as everything in between flowed naturally like spring petals on a breeze. You feel an armored hand on your cheek, so, so soft and careful, as if you were as fragile as a flower, and a calm, relaxed rumble of tourmaline lazy curiosity and aquamarine fondness, "Anything on your mind, my breath?"

You couldn't help your chuckle, emerald fondness running around the mosaic of your divinity as you gently run your hand through starlit hair, nuzzling the hand on your cheek and hoping to convey even half the warmth he gave you, "Reminiscing, worry not. Rest a bit more before you must go." You hear him sigh as you place the flower crown on his head, as pale as his hair, but as delicate as your sister in divinity's wings, threaded pthalo like the flame of his existence.

"... Must I? I was late this time, it's only proper I redeem myself for making you wait." He questions, reluctant and guilty in equal measure, fondness blooms over your lungs as you poke his nose, smiling bright, if dim as you answer him, "I'd dare not attempt to deny you your nature, I do not know what you hunt, what you're searching for. But it would be cruel to chain you."

The man many had dubbed 'Fierce Deity' nuzzles into your hand, nestling in close like a wolf over catch, you catch the hints of a frown on his face, "It's hardly chaining when I wish to stay, is it?"

Your breath almost is trapped in your lungs, but you shake yourself out of it, chuckling as you brush your lips over his markings, crimson affection as the carmine and lapis lazuli of his Hunt. The cheek of this man, for that's what you all are in the end, divinity or not, "Maybe not, though for all you rest here with me you still itch to run and hunt. Do you not, my dear warrior?"

The silence is only broken by the whispers of the leaves of the woods carried by the wind and the curious chirping of birds, his unwavering moonlit gaze giving away nothing. And it tells you enough.

You smile, brushing your noses together, spring breeze playful and sun warm, "If you're that worried, then just come back earlier, if you can. I'll have something new for you to look at, and I'll always wait. We have time."

In a flash, you find your positions reversed, your back and hair to the flowers and your wonderful, ever mischievous hunter above you, you yelp and you can't help but laugh before the sound is stolen by his lips. And he cradles your cheeky gently, so very kindly, and when he leans back he looks at you as if you're the first glimpse of water for a man in the desert, or the way a wolf longingly looks at the moon, and it cracks the phosphophylite of your soul and fills it with the gilded gold of emerald love, "... Thank you. I will not keep you waiting long again. I shall remain for now, though. The call can wait."

I love you. I want to stay with you.

"I know." Your hands gently thread through his hair, gleeful as you notice the rare curve of a smile as his cap lays abandoned in the glass, but your flower crown remains, "Be safe, when you do go. I'd be lovely if something happened."

I love you too.

He shakes his head, giving you an unimpressed look, "I cannot be harmed in any way that matters."

You fondly roll your eyes, pressing your index and middle finger to your lips, then touching it lightly against his own, he all but freezes. You refuse to allow him to distract you with admittedly charming affection, and you take the opportunity to tug him into your arms, shifting your positions so you can utilize him as a pillow, safer than you ever felt in your many eons of existence, more comfortable than the stars painting the canvas of the sky with their dance, "Promise me you'll be safe, and you can claim what's yours once you're back. For now I tire of your stubbornness."

You feel his chest rumble, maybe a laugh, maybe a purr or a growl, but he holds you close, steady and lovelier than even the world the goddesses created. "As you wish, my dearest blossom."

You both fall asleep to the songs of nature, you know he'll hunt again, you know he'll be gone soon like late night mist. But for now, a promise for an eternity of this, like how the mortals speak of, is enough.

#linked universe x reader #kinda?#Fierce Deity x Reader #FD x Reader #Deity Reader #or at least highly implied #for myself as a bit of a mental break so I can work on the Fairy Tale Collection properly lol #so apologies to anyone who finds it if it's not all that good or to your taste #contains gratuitous amounts of headcanons I have for FD on those sleepless hours #and a small apology for the FD enjoyers who won't find him in the Fairy Tale Collection #next story maybe

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utterlyotterlyx · 5 days

Text

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Two

Summary - As the ways of the world shift, you find yourself torn between those who have always cared for you and the life you feel like you were made to live.

Warnings - some angst, mentions to past trauma, fluff

Part One

The crescent moon scars peered out from the neckline of your nightgown, still raised and angry, threatening to split open in the hope of having their former partners restored.

It wasn't often that they caused you pain, and if they did, you had learnt to live with it, but there was a knot twisting around the muscle there and every movement was causing you to hiss and wince. After you had managed to lift yourself out of bed, you stood braced against one of the posters of the frame, eyes closed and inhaling deeply to halt the contractions pulsing around the area and shooting down your spine.

A gentle knock pulled your attention, the swirling pain striking hard and threatening to send you crumpling to the ground, "What's wrong?" Azriel appeared at your side, no doubt hearing the deep breaths and audible whimpers from the other side of the door.

Azriel's room was across the hall from your own, a silly decision on Rhys' part when you thought about the complicated relationship you shared with the Shadowsinger. It wasn't odd for you to enter your room at any point of the day to find him splayed across your bed or sat by the window, he'd always liked the comfort of your room more than his own.

"There's a knot in my shoulder, I can feel it moving," Azriel nodded in understanding and led you to the bathroom at a pace that was comfortable to you, helping you to sit on the edge of the tub before moving to your medicine cabinet.

Azriel knew where everything was in your room, he knew exactly where you kept the expensive ointments and where you kept the cheaper ones that Cassian would 'borrow' from you unknowing to the fact that you knew full well that he took your things. All you needed to do was mutter what you wanted and his shadows would slither back and tell him, moments later he would return with the item and a warm smile on his lips.

Soon enough Azriel had returned to you, tub in hand and glancing to your clothed back, "Do you mind if I lower it a little?"

Shaking your head, you caught the straps of your gown before they fell too far and exposed your chest to him. Azriel's touch feathered over the scar, and he could clearly see the muscle spasming beneath the skin, you entire body convulsing along with it. It was usually Mor that tended to you in these situations, but you didn't mind Azriel helping at all, you had seen the most gruesome parts of one another. An angry muscle was nothing.

The cream was cold against your skin but you leaned into it and the owner of its appearance, Azriel's fingers worked meticulously, applying pressure in just the right place to bring you untold relief but also a surging amount of pain. Azriel apologised softly as his fingers worked their way into the muscle, rolling small circles into the skin and wincing with you as you hissed in pain.

"I know it hurts. I'm sorry," his shadows had flowed over your shoulders, hugging themselves around your neck and purring softly in your ear.

Azriel always tried his best to be mindful of your loss, going as far as to tuck his large wings behind him as much as possible when you were around despite you telling him that it wasn't an issue. It was obvious how much you missed them from when you looked at his wings, or Cassian's, or Rhys', even Feyre and Nyx weren't safe from your gaze.

A few more minutes went by of Azriel's fingers rubbing into your skin and you weren't in pain anymore, it had floated away in the abyss and you exhaled from your mouth as his hands came to rest atop your shoulders, "Thank you."

"Of course," he glanced about the bathroom, "Do you need me to do anything else?"

"I should be fine, thank you."

The touch of his fingers were still on your bare shoulders and you could feel his gaze trailing down the thick waves of your messy morning hair to the large scars carved into your shoulders. Warmth spread across your skin as his digits lay unmoving on you and you turned your head to the side to capture his gaze, “Is everything alright?”

Pulling him from his trance, Azriel cleared his throat and took a step backward, bumping into the jagged edge of the tub with a dull thump, “Fine. Everything is fine,” it didn’t go unnoticed by you how his shadows had restrained his wings, pinning them behind his back, but before you could tell him to stop, to not hide from you, he had spoke, “I should go. Rhys is sending me on a mission with Nesta.”

You stood, pulling the thin strings of your nightgown back over your shoulders as you faced him, “You and Nesta?” Your voice echoed in the large bathroom, rattling against the windowpanes that were begging to be opened to allow the sweet sonnet of Velaris to reach you, “Why both of you?”

“I can’t say,” he couldn’t say? Or he didn’t know? “I just wanted to come and say goodbye.”

“And to tell me to watch my mouth whilst you’re gone?”

Azriel smirked, “That too,” he wound his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, swaying softly with you in his arms, “I’ll be back soon.”

Cedar was consuming you and you swayed with him, eyes fluttered closed and enjoying the contact of his arms around you, “Be careful,” it was all you could say to make him aware that you cared, he knew that too.

Pulling back from you slightly, he looked down on you, running his thumb along the curve of your jaw, “Always am,” he pressed his lips to your forehead, where your hair met the skin, and paced from the room, his shadows fighting to stay back for one more moment with you.

It was no coincidence that Rhys had decided to send both Azriel and Nesta on a joint mission, the two people closest to you suddenly being ordered away from the Night Court. Away from you. It was unsettling to say the least. Rhys had been keeping a wary eye on you since the morning Eris had left a few days ago, he had noticed how Eris had lingered around you that night at dinner, how the High Lord had unknowingly dressed in the same colours as you, and he didn’t like it one bit.

It felt like punishment, to force you into solitude for aiding Eris at that meeting. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy spending time with the rest of your family, or that you didn’t like them, it’s just that Azriel and Nesta understood you in the deepest way possible, from the intricate ticking of your mind, to your wit, to the abuse you had suffered and the darkness that lingered inside of your soul, tainting it with its inky mist.

The entirety of Prythian, whilst they knew of you, wouldn’t be able to pick you out in a crowd if it weren’t for your telltale eyes. It was always something that had bothered you, why exactly were you so hidden, like forbidden fruit born from a poison oak. To look at but never touch, to never be intrigued by, to never interact with unless they wished death upon themselves.

You were the last resort, the one Rhys would call upon if there was no other option. At first you believed it was because he truly wanted to keep you out of harms way, to protect you and the future of the court, but as time ticked away, it became glaringly obvious that protecting you wasn’t the reason for it at all.

Rhys was supposed to be the most powerful High Lord that Prythian had ever seen.

What would people think when they saw you, his lesser than sister unworthy of any true title, possessing power that even he found unfathomable?

Sure, Rhys could mist a portion of an army away with a lift of the finger, but you could decimate entire battlefields without even blinking if you so wished it. It wasn’t information he wanted to be common knowledge, so it wasn’t.

The reflection in the mirror was the perfect rendition of the mask you had worn your entire life, soft, elegant, naive, unknowing, it disguised the raging wildfire that consumed you daily, that begged to be unleashed, to devour the world in your fury and conform anyone who stood against you to ash.

A practiced smile fell onto your lips, your hands were neatly folded atop your form fitting plum purple skirt, and your shoulders dropped with a sigh. In that moment, as you stood before your reflection, dressed in fitted fabric of onyx and purple, did you realise how much better you looked in red.

The library had always been your sanctuary, perhaps that was the reason you and Nesta had become so close. She too sought out the comfort that only the library could provide, maybe it was the smell of worn parchment or the faint aroma of oak from the sturdy shelves, maybe it was how the light trickled through the stained glass windows or the comfort of the deep seated armchairs. Whatever it was, it definitely owned a part of you, of you both.

Nesta had found herself idly glancing at the titles on the shelves, it was the week after she had been Made, and one of the first moments she had left her bedroom since finding herself in Velaris. The eldest Archeron sister knew little of you, so little in fact that she didn’t realise you were Rhys’ sister until you told her.

You’d found Nesta in one of the many hidden pews of books, clutching a particular title between your fingers, she had looked awful back then with her hallowed cheeks and sickly pale skin, and she had commented on your inability to announce yourself, and you had told her that she better watch how she spoke to you in your home. Of course that meant that you would become close friends.

Silence swirled about you, a room that was usually rife with Nesta’s sharp humour and chatter about the books you had swapped with her was nothing but a wistful memory.

The library was off limits to everyone bar you and Nesta who came and went as you pleased, other members of the inner circle had to ask for special permission to enter the sanctuary you had made for yourselves. It was an uninterrupted space, a place of harmony and exploration.

Which is exactly why you scowled when you saw Lucien sat in your usual seat with his legs propped atop the vintage coffee table, sifting through pages of a random book he had removed from its perch without giving it much attention or care.

“Care to explain what you’re doing here, Lucien?”

Lucien glanced up at you then, cocking his head to the side and examining you. His mechanical eye whirred, filling the space, as his gaze narrowed in on you, “You look better in red,” his eyes moved to the space behind you which led to the open hallway with walls adorned with various portraits, namely one of yourself that Rhys had commissioned before the happenings of Amarantha, midnight purple wings and all; Lucien silently beckoned you inside with his stare and you closed the doors behind your entrance with a soft click.

Floating to the nearest open seat, a plush black armchair opposite him which homed a red wine velvet cushion, you waved your fingers and the atmosphere fell dense, “You can speak freely,” a shimmer clung to the air like speckles of glistening starlight, and Lucien knew that if anyone were to enter in search of you that they wouldn’t see anything but an empty room before their eyes.

Glamoured.

Lucien was by no means an unpleasant male to look at, he shared so many aspects with Eris, the elder brother than you could see in Lucien’s fire red hair and russet eyes, in his chiselled cheekbones and golden skin, even in the distant surveying glint in his eye. You didn’t know much about the Vanserra brother that resided in your city, but from what Feyre had told you, Lucien was trustworthy, one of the few males in the land she would always be able to count on.

Reaching into the back pocket of his deep brown briefs, Lucien held a piece of parchment before your narrowed eyes, turning it over in his fingers whilst contemplating whether or not to give it to you. Lucien knew little of you, only fragments of you from what Elain had told him in passing, but he had a feeling that you were much more than what you appeared to be. Such was obvious from the subtle notes he picked up from watching you converse with Eris a few evenings prior.

The parchment was rough under his touch, calloused paper that was singed at the edges. Lucien hadn’t dared to open it when it had appeared under his mug that morning with your name intricately scribed onto the folded surface, instead awaiting for his own note to appear, which it had moments later with strict instructions to make sure the note reached you no matter what.

“This is from Eris,” you sat up straighter in your seat, the once unbothered and passive stare now replaced with one of excited intrigue. He smirked.

Lucien held out the parchment to you, and you were ashamed at how fast you rose from your seat to claim it from your fingers. It smelt of him, of autumn pine and cinnamon, the same scent that had lingered on your skin since the morning he had left.

You sent him a sidelong glare and tried to keep your features as trained and neutral as possible, holding it lax in your fingers like you weren’t itching to flip it open and read away, “You know that Rhys would nail your balls to the wall if he knew you were giving this to me?”

Lucien hummed, grinning at you, “Yes. But something tells me that he’s not going to find out.”

Damn Lucien Vanserra and his keen eye, and damn you for allowing a sliver of your true nature to shine through for him to see.

Deep down you were a young girl in love with the idea of fated mates, of true love and happiness, of bright tomorrows and forevers, and it taken a lot of darkness to try and squash that hope that lingered within your soul. Centuries of believing that your power and name made you unlovable, to be feared only.

“What makes you think that?”

Lucien cocked his head to the side, looking you up and down, confirming to himself that there was no way that you would tell a soul, not even Nesta, “That hope I just saw in those eyes,” he rose from his seat and approached your position, “Perhaps it’s time for you to wake up,” he spoke in a tone that indicated that he knew something that you didn’t, many things actually.

Casting his gaze downward at the beautiful cursive rendition of your name, he spoke, “Write your response and will it back to him, it will dissipate into ash in your fingers and float to him in the wind.”

“Why have you delivered this?”

Lucien shrugged, “So many questions,” his voice trailed off, shoving his hands deep into his pockets he stepped toward the door, “Because y/n,” he turned from you, talking to you over his shoulder, “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever seen Eris be so openly kind to, do you know how hard it is for him to apologise about anything?”

Then he was done, and the moment he stepped out into the hallway the glamour dropped and you shivered at the sensation of it.

The portrait of you stared at him and he stopped before it, drinking in the beauty of the starlit backdrop and your wildfire ringed orbs that cut through the darkness like a beacon of enveloping safety. Lucien glanced back to you, noting how you stood in the room peering down at the parchment, turning it over in your hands and thinking about whether or not it was a good idea to indulge the new High Lord, “Life has its challenges, y/n. It’s up to you to decide if they’re worth the struggle.”

He spoke from knowledge, of his own truth, “Were they worth it to you?”

Lucien smiled fondly, no doubt casting his mind to his beautiful mate that breathed life back into his weathering essence, “Very much so.”

It had taken a lot of back and forth mental arguments to bring yourself to open Eris’ note. There was a delicious foreboding about it all that made it all the more tempting, Rhys would lose the reigns of his consciousness and submit himself to his own darkness if he knew.

But Lucien was right, there was no way that you were going to tell him.

With your heartbeat thundering in your chest, you slipped your thumb between the fold and flipped the note open.

Eris’ writing wasn’t as you thought it would be, you were expecting messy handwriting with little personable tone to the words, but how wrong you were, how wrong you were when you could hear that sultry whisky deep voice linger in every neatly curved word you read.

I apologise for putting you in the position of keeping something from your family, but I had to speak to you, and this is the only way I can.

Allowing your gaze to linger on the words, the paper rustled in the breeze from the open window, like Eris had sent the element to give you a little nudge. Reaching for a pen, you scribed your reply, watching the paper engulf in contained flame and the ash dance away in the wind, just as Lucien had said.

It’s not just yourself that you’re putting in danger. Poor Lucien for becoming entangled in another scandal.

A moment passed, and another piece of parchment appeared in your lap doused in his scent.

Any danger is worth even a mere second of your time.

Even if it means pissing off the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history?

Even then. But we both know that Rhysand isn’t the most powerful, don’t we Fawn?

Butterflies pulsed in your stomach at the name, you were by no means a fawn, but the sincere softness of it made your heart clench.

If you’re alluding to yourself then I’m afraid you’re severely mistaken, High Lord.

The paper vanished, reappearing again moments later and you could have sworn you could see Eris tucked away in the office of Fir Manor, dressed in an unbuttoned shirt and forest green briefs, hair tousled and smirking into the air with a quill resting between his digits.

This is perhaps the one and only time where I will happily be mistaken… and please, it’s Eris.

Do I not threaten you?

Should you?

You thought about it, there wasn’t a bone in your body that wished to be feared or appear as threatening, it was the role you had grown into, the one you had always played with little say in it, and it was like he knew that.

No, I shouldn’t.

The paper vanished and you waited a stretch for it to return, confiding yourself to staring at the starlit skies beyond the window and wonder where exactly Nesta and Azriel had been sent off to.

Where would Rhys have sent them? And why couldn’t Azriel tell you about it? Did he even know himself what the aim of his mission was? Did Nesta? Why had he chosen the two people closest to you and knowingly left you without someone to lean on?

I see the mask you wear. I see what it’s done to you. You’ve worn it for so long that you feel lost within it, as though the mask has consumed your light. I want to tell you to let the fire burn, to be yourself is the greatest gift you could ever give.

Who knew that the fox could speak with sentiment?

And, like you could hear the earthy chuckle through the inked words, you could practically hear him say,

There are many things that you don’t know about me, Little Fawn. Perhaps one day I’ll let you close enough to find out.

The ghost of his voice lingered around you, like faint whispers of a lover at sunrise.

No, you wouldn’t tell Rhys, or anyone for that matter about the oh so wrong pit burying itself into your gut, or about your nerves prickling with flaming desire.

Blood and loyalty be damned.

Authors Note

Hope you love this x

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