#the horde x reader

[charliedawn]

Slashers who meet a to-be victim whos just putting glitter on things

A to-be victim who has a room full of posters of serial killers and slashers

Imagine two of Bo's worst nightmares. Glitter. And sparkles. Combine them. Put them in a room and that would be your bedroom. And worst of it all...Posters of him and his brothers in every single corner. He was speechless...

"...What in the—? What is this place ?! Hell ?!"

As soon as he was in, he wanted to leave. Only to discover that the door was locked and he had now glitter on his shoes and his hand. And then, you appeared with a whole bucket of glitter in your hands. And Bo started praying.

Him : "Whatdya think yer gonna do with that exactly ?!"

You *devilish smirk*

Him : "Oh no, you don't ! Get the heck away from me !"

…Bo couldn’t get all the sparkles out of his hair for weeks.

...Wow.

Jason was surprised and impressed. A full room dedicated to him and the slashers. He hadn't expected it. He didn't really mind though. It meant you knew about him and weren’t scared.

Him *smiles* : "Do you want some help ?"

You *handing him a full bucket of glitter* : "Sure ! Put them everywhere. And you can help take pictures of the others for me."

He was more than happy to help and you ended up having a good time playing with glitter and stalking the other slashers. Jason may not really care about glitter and sparkles, but he’d be happy to spend time with you.

The Penny Brothers love glitter. It is something fun and colourful for Penny. He would help you decorate the whole hospital. He’d even be thrilled to meet a fan and see all the posters you have of them. It would mean that you are as crazy as him and you would get along just fine. Penny loves crazy people.

And for Pennywise ? Pennywise sees it as the perfect torture. Those little colourful flakes are impossible to remove from clothes or hair and when people receive them in their eyes…It means atrocious suffering and temporary blindness. So, of course he’d love them.

Brahms was ecstatic when he learned about the new patient who loves glitter and sparkles. He wanted to be your friend before he even met you. He stayed away for a while and only showed himself when he was sure you were what he thought you were. When he saw the huge posters of him, he got flustered. But, he got particularly excited when you showed him your collection of pink and purple items covered in glitter. He immediately felt like he had found someone who understood him.

It wasn’t long before Brahms started walking around proudly with a glitter-covered mask. And he didn’t even care about the others making fun of him for it, because there was you.

Norman knew from the start. He first rent you a room and when he took a look through the peep hole—he was immediately blinded by the brightness in the room. But, he was flattered by the posters.

Let’s just say that Norman found it endearing, but he isn’t a really big fan of glitter and sparkle—especially on him. It means more cleaning. But, on you ? He’d find it adorable and would gladly run the vacuum every day if it meant he got to see you in those very pretty and original outfits of yours.

Norman *smiles* : "Very cute, my little monster. Very cute."

Freddy : "FIRE IN THE HOLE !" *uses a literal canon to make the whole place sparkle*

Freddy loves chaos. You would just give him an idea to cause more trouble and make the whole hospital swim in glitter. Fortunately, the staff and the other slashers are used to it by now.

But, it doesn’t mean they like it all the same.

Random nurse *after she got covered in green glitter* : "…FREDDY ! Y/N ! Come back here !"

You and Freddy *cackling while running away*

Barry LOVES glitter. He lives for it. He wants each of his outfits to have a sparkle to them. And he’d design all sorts of clothes for you.

Barry *screams when you get out of the dressing room* : "YES ! Absolutely nailed it ! Twirl for me, darling. Yes. Thank you. Absolutely gorgeous."

Vincent did take you as an inspiration for his new piece. He took some of your supplies to cover his new wax statue and at the end, he offered it to you. It was a wax statue of yourself and Vince waited anxiously for your opinion.

Vincent *fidgets nervously*

You *smile widely* : "I love it !"

He was really ecstatic and gave you a hug. He really wanted you to like it.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #bo sinclair x reader #norman bates x reader #barry split #kevin wendell crumb x reader #the horde x reader #vincent sinclair x reader

[spicyspicyliving]

I NEED HELP!

THERE WAS A STORY I WAS READING (IT WAS SPLIT UP INTO MULTIPLE POSTS)

BUT I CAN'T FIND IT

IT WAS A HORDE OF 4 ZOMBIES X READER

I THINK ONES NAME WAS RIBS AND ANOTHED WAS SOMETHING LIKE SCRAPS OR SOMETHING

IT WAS ADORABLE AND I CAN'T FIND IT

SOMEBODY HELP PLEASE I'M DESPERATE

SOLVED:

EAT YOUR HEART OUT by @dr3c0mix

#zombie #zombie horde #zombies x reader #zombies #zombie smut

[tamayakii]

Mare's Milk & Cider

warnings: drinking(reader has no specific age), story takes place in "second of his name" during Aegon's II celebrations, canon events basically. pairings: Otto Hightower x reader(can be seen as platonic/romantic), hotd x reader notes: thank you Aaliah, @genshinluvr, she helped me out with the ending!!! Let me know if you'd like to be in a tag list for this fic :) this fic is also paired up with this drawing i made!

“Then it lies with you, to make him see it.” Hobert advised, stepping closer to his younger brother, “Lord Hand” It did not go under Otto’s nose of what his brother was suggesting, reminding him of his own title.

His eyes never leave Hoberts as he considers his brothers' words, “and speaking of growing,” Otto follows Hoberts's moving gaze to the Princess, Angel of The Red Keep, adorned in a headdress with a long silk veil, dragons and stars embroidered in. Face decorated in Velaryon pearls, neck and fingers embellished with the finest green rubies, jades and agate the Hightowers could find.

“The fine lady y/n has grown to be a wondrous young woman, hasn’t she?” Hobert eyes do not hold simple admiration for a young girl grown, they hold more, and they contain something that Otto wants to snuff out with his bare hands.

“She is betrothed?” Hobert asks, looking back at his brother. “A fine woman like that cannot go un-married for long. With her and Rhaenrya combined, I can imagine the king's chambers are filled with betrothal letters.” Otto looks back at the Princess, watching as she plays with her new baby brother, covering her face and pulling her hands away quickly.

“A fine mother she will make as well, Aegon loves her.” The comment almost makes Otto snap, the thought of anyone being her husband or the father to her children makes a fire burst inside him. One Otto cannot explain reasonably, so he stifles it.

“She.. is not betrothed, Brother, I don’t think the King has any interest in marrying her off,” Otto answers, his lips tightening when his brother looks at him with a smirk. A near-knowing one that always made Otto furious since childhood.

“The king, or you?” Hobert quips, smirk widening when Otto’s face scrunches, nostrils flaring and wrinkles deepening. Hobert pats his shoulder as he begins to walk away, satisfied to get under his brother's skin.

No. Lady y/n shall not betrothed. Otto thinks, especially not to the likes of his brother. He watches as she laughs, throwing her head back and hand over her heart. Nothing, nothing could compare to her.

She steps away as the Lannister boy steps in, talking about the stepstones. She treats herself to the glorious spread on the table, picking out ham and grapes, plate barely complete- Otto steps in.

“Please, My Lady, have more” He helps fill her plate, and she shakes her head,

“You’re so sweet, Ser Otto, but i don’t think i can handle it. I am trying to watch my waist.” She responds, in a honey-sweet voice, one that cradles his entire being but her words make him roll his eyes.

“Treat yourself, My lady, we do not wish you to starve on such a good day. Now go ahead; eat before the long journey” Soon Viserys is at her side, like a dragon protecting its kin. All it takes is one look to make Otto step away,

“Come eat.” The king demands, “Fortify yourselves for the journey.” Otto watches her, keeping by her father’s side; Like a lamb to its mother. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him--

☾

The trip to Kingswood is long and cold. Hand intertwined with Rhaenrya’s as you arrive, the loud crowd applauding for the king and new prince’s arrival but Rhaenrya makes no move to depart from the carriage.

“Rhaenrya?” Whispering as you scooch closer to the princess, “They await to see you” Still unmoving, all she does is blink. “Come.” standing up and pulling her along, “We will go together.” You step out of the carriage, with the princess alongside you.

“The Realms Delight herself; Princess Rhaenrya of Dragonstone! Accompanied by Princess y/n, Angel of The Red Keep!!” You squeeze her hand, looking at her. She looks at you with a somber smile, squeezing your hand back.

The roar of the crowd could blow you back, it will never not be jarring to be reminded of your station. A Princess. Not by blood but by word, and who would tell the king no? Who would dare say to King Viserys that his second daughter, whom his own late lady wife believed she had birthed her, cannot be a princess?

The celebrations are grand, the finest cakes and delights, the meat freshly hunted and prepared before your eyes. At your father's request, you stayed by his side, forcing you to leave Rhaenrya.

The glorious tent is filled with laughter and talk, and the smell of wine and cake fills your nose. Looking over to where the pregnant Queen Alicent sits, you realize she has been staring at you. You offer her a smile and she too offers one back.

Settling back into your chair, crossing your hands on your lap as you look above. Looking into the tiny details of the royal tent, the golden threads woven with black.

“Tired, my dragonling?” Viserys looks at you, reaching his free hand to yours- the other holding a goblet of wine. You reach over and hold his hand, As soon as he questions you, a yawn tries to force its way to your throat.

“The ride was tiring and too long for my tastes but--” you look to your father with a reassuring smile, “I shall be okay, After some food and rest, I'll be okay” he smiles back at you before taking another drink from his goblet.

Soon enough you’re offered your own goblet, filled with mare’s milk and honey. Time passes by slowly, you blink once and your father isn’t by your side anymore, It seems no one has noticed you dozed off. You promise yourself you won’t fall asleep but as you close your eyes and your goblet tips in your weak hand; the promise is broken.

“Is that all I am to you? A prize to be proffer about to the great houses?” Rhaenrya's voice makes you jump out of your short slumber, eyes wide like a deer as you begin to process the situation. As Viserys steps towards Rhaenrya, you push yourself out of your seat, setting your goblet down on the table beside you.

“You’re of age, Rhaenrya,” he points out, “and Jason Lannister is an excellent match,” he adds on. Oh. Oh no. Stepping towards the pair they seem not to notice you, there was no smooth way to stop this bickering. The two argue every day at least ever since Queen Aemma passed and especially since Viserys took Alicent to wife.

“He’s arrogant and self-serious” Rhaenrya argued, You wring your hands together anxiously. Watching the two fight as a bystander was like watching two lions fight, watching them as their family felt like two dragons fighting overhead. All that would follow would be the destruction of varying amounts that was left for you to pick up and fix, being both of their shoulders to lean on.

“Well, I thought you might have that in common�� Even Lord Lyonel could feel the suffocating air around the two, taking a third step back. Sending you an apologetic look, the face Rhaenrya has is indescribable. Perhaps she wanted to scream at him, or even shocked that he would say such a thing, or maybe she had been at a loss for words.

Otto stalks closer from the sidelines, watching closely. This catches your eye, you try to breathe; knowing he is here comforts you. For nearly three years now, he has been your aid, your comfort and your closest friend- even despite the large age gap. You realize the tent has now fallen silent, and everyone listening in.

You quickly step to Otto’s side, seeking his silent comfort. You wish you could fix everything, and make everyone happy; even if it left your hands raw and bloody. If you could give your own heart for it; then you’d do it.

“Even I do not exist above tradition and duty, Rhaenrya!!” You cover your ears quickly, eyes wide with fear. Turning your body away from them, you began to feel violently aware of everyone's eyes on your family, some on you but mainly on the spectacle; The King and The Heir fighting on Aegon’s second name day.

When Viserys turns to Otto what he sees makes his flesh burn; You. So very close to Otto but turned away from him- Your father. It makes his blood boil, you should seek comfort from him. Not Ser Otto. You are his daughter. Not Otto’s.

Viserys soon leaves after the news of the white hart, but Otto stays, just for a moment. His gloved hand sitting on your shoulder, a reassuring hold. Your breath is shaky and your chest tight but you still manage to look at him through your eyelashes,

“Breathe, Princess.” He insists, and he maneuvers you towards your seat. Hand traversing to your lower back, “Sit and have some milk.” He gently puts your goblet back in your hand as you seat yourself. Feeble hands grip the handle, eyes drawn to the floor.

Otto tries to find the right words, he has never been a man of comfort. His hand hovers over your dropped head, unbeknownst to you. He sighs and takes his leave, passing his goblet to a maiden.

The day gets longer, Rhaenrya has run off with Criston following behind her. You knew it was against your set rules but you sank into your cups, after whispering to the help to fill your cups with cider but to not tell anyone else.

Your eyelids get heavy again, head tipping back. You love your family, you do. They took you in as a child, they gave you everything even despite the tight rules provided, sometimes… sometimes you wish that you took to a dragon and flew. Flew somewhere, to old Valryia or maybe to the free cities.

Then you’d be free.. but never truly free. Your love ties you down to your loved ones but that is the consequence of loving hard. Looking down into your cup, you swirl your drink. Taking a deep breath you look back to Alicent, she is already looking at you.

You wonder how long she has been staring at you and you tilt your head, she gestures for you to sit next to her. Another sigh leaves your mouth, slowly pushing yourself up.

“oh! princess, here allow me to help!” a maiden comes to your side, you wave her off as you give her the empty goblet. You keep your steps slow so as to not wobble, to others; you looked like you were gliding.

“My Queen.” you address as you sit beside her, Alicent quickly holds your hand closest to her. You are surrounded by the lady wives of many different men along with Larys Strong, the son of Lyonel Strong, the brother of Harwin “Breakbones” Strong.

“This is Viserys’s other daughter, Princess y/n” Remembering to keep your eyes open, you look around with a smile. “Dear y/n, how’s your day? you seem awfully tired.” Alicent asks with concern, one hand on her belly and other on your hand as she leans closer.

“I’m quite fine.” you mumble back, fighting your heavy lids as you nod. “The day is long… but soon we shall dine and turn in for the night.”

The conversations bore you, useless politics, rumors, marriages of lower houses. You wave over another servant with a sigh, already they know what you want. They deliver it, you try to hide the contents from Alicent but she notices.

“Cider?” She whispers tightly, holding the wrist that holds your goblet. Your nose flexes, “You know you cannot handle that.” She states, “a maiden your age shouldn’t even be holding a cup of cider.”

The rest of the ladies converse, and you are unbeknownst to another set of eyes on you. “Please. I will be fine.” you whisper, patting her hand and prying her tiny fingers off.

You take another big swig of your cider, almost finishing it all in one go. Looking over to Larys who has nearly burned holes into your head, nodding at him as a greeting.

“La-Larys.” you slur and he smiles at you, and you return it with a half one. The sudden need for fresh air sits in your lungs, eating you like a snake does a vole. Chugging your drink before shoving it in between the cushions of the seat, you stand up.

“I’m.. gonna go get some fresh air.” You announced, trying to make your way out of the once lovely group of women who now seem like a horde of gossiping vultures.

“Oh!” Lady Redwyne pops, “I heard that the hunters found a fat hog, they should be smoking it just now!”

The thought of watching them gut a pig to smoke makes your stomach turn, “thanks.. Lady Redwyne” You hurry out of the tent, the sun shining upon your skin. The pungent smell of burning meat and spices hits you, quickly turning away and scurrying to the back of the tent- where it was closer to the forest edge.

“ugh…. fuck.” You groan, kicking the dirt below you, the cider sticks to your insides like jam to bread. You ache to be in the comforts of the red keep, painting, or perhaps riding on horseback. You ache for a lot of things. Ache for the motherly hands of Aemma, to feel the embrace of someone you refuse to let yourself say. Perhaps you ache for the unmade.

You stand there, for minutes. Just staring into the bushes and trees, the arrival of the hunting party brings you back. Smoothing down the white lace on your dress, gulping down the fresh forest air; you return to the celebrations.

“Princess?” a feeble voice calls out, you look around and are surprised to see Larys.

“O-oh! Larys.. Larys, you surprised me.” You turn to the man hunched over his walking cane, leaning onto it. “How have you enjoyed my brother's second name day?” you ask, almost swallowing your tongue.

“it has been fine.. not that i can enjoy the most of it.” He moves his twisted foot, something that has dubbed him “The clubfoot” among gossipers. “But to be honest, i think i prefer talking with the maidens.” he adds, “they are far more gentler”

You nod along, eyes flickering over to the hunting party. Dogs held right by handlers, horses snorting and throwing their heads back as their riders dismount.

“But you..” he continues on “seem to be left to your own,” You still and wrong your hands together. Adjusting your stance as you feel yourself leaning, telling yourself to keep yourself together.

“Yes.. but it’s okay, I don't… don’t mind.” You reassure,

“I’m sure the cups of cider helped.” he smirks, knowing, your face flushed. How did he know? noticing your red face he chuckles,

“not to worry, Princess. I shall not tell anyone.” His eyes never leave yours, following your finicky gaze. It makes you uncomfortable, like a child being examined.

“I suppose it’s not-“

“You shall not tell anyone, what?”

you almost jump out of your skin, you turn so quickly that your head may have spun all around. Otto stands tall, chin up. Almost looking down upon Larys,

“Ser Otto” Larys addresses, if Larys was scared, he made no effort to show it. Your heart beats against your chest, “She was telling me a story; about Aegon.” You try to catch up to where Larys was, but he seemed to be a whole book ahead.

“ye… yes!” you stammer over words, “i uh, guess you could say i spoiled him despite Alicent request.” Otto's hard eyes soften when they land on you, it was a siren's song to your intoxicated state.

“The princess should be with the king.” Otto says, he offers you his arm and you reach for it.

“I was keeping the Princess company as she enjoyed the fresh air.” Larys explains, “She felt a bit queasy. I guess the mares' milk may have gone bad.” Otto looks down at your averted gaze, examining your state. Shuffling in your stance, flickering eyelids and subtle swaying.

“I see, I will look into that.” Otto puts his hand over yours, a grip to keep you near- not to comfort. “Come on, Princess.” He tries to walk you back, you step on your own foot as he does so.

“I think the princess would like to enjoy the fresh air longer.” Larys turns slowly, looking dead in Otto's eyes.

“The king has requested her presence” Otto's grip tightens, his nostrils flare. “but you can enjoy the air if you wish. I’m sure you won’t be bothered” Larys watches Otto lead you off into the tent, eyes never leaving you.

Entering the red tent filled with dozens of folk and your father right ahead, your sister is nowhere to be seen. You want to go home, you want to lie in your warm bed with Rhaenrya and wake up to braid each other's hair.

Soon you’re back in your chair, holding Viserys’ hand and Otto to your left. You stare off, taking a deep breath.

You would always be in the jaws of someone bigger, the dragons or the hounds. You’d bare your neck like a lamb, and hope for the dark delicate love.

Entwined in other people’s fate, all you can hope is that the fates bring you peace.

#HOTD x reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader #yandere hotd x reader #yandre house of the dragon #yandere hord #otto hightower x reader #yandere #Viserys Targaryen x reader #rhaenrya targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #Larys Strong x reader #yandere Larys Strong #Yandere Otto Hightower #Yandere viserys targaryen #yandere rhaenrya targaryen

[imagine-darksiders]

I want to share a snippet from chapter 3 of The Lovelorn King, a little moment between Junior and Y/n, because I'm feeling angsty and apparently can't keep my WIPs a secret. :P

----------

"Peach makes him sad..."

Junior's fingers pluck at a loose thread on the blanket, his gaze falling from the book in your hands to the fucshia sheets rumpled below his chin.

"How so?" you respond absently, thumbing through the pages to see when the chapter ends. With any luck, once it's finished, you might be able to encourage the young prince to return to his own bed and leave you in relative peace.

The Koopaling's muffled response, however, is strange enough to snag your attention.

"Cos' he loves her, but she hates him..."

Loves...?

Lowering the book into your lap, you lean back a little further until your spine hits the head board, blinking mutely at Junior as you finally take note of the deep furrow between his brows and his downcast eyes.

Bowser is in love with Princess Peach...?

Your heart goes out to the poor woman.

Yet, if Junior is to be believed, it sounds as though your royal pen pal doesn't share the same affection for her would-be suitor, a fact that seems to have put the young koopaling in a glum frame of mind which in turn tugs at your feeble heart strings.

For the umpteenth time, you give yourself an admonishing kick for immediately trying to think of ways to set his mind at ease.

Perhaps it wouldn't have hurt to inherit some of your father's apathy after all...

But though Junior may be the son of the tyrant who locked you in this room, you can't get away from the reminder that you're dealing with a mere boy, a young child, as evidenced by the way he stole in here and asked you to read him a bed time story....

What quarrel would any self-respecting Queen have with a child?

Clearing your throat, you duck your head in an attempt to catch the koopaling's eye, hesitantly responding, "Hate is a... strong word. I'm sure she doesn't-"

"-She does!" he suddenly insists with a shout, tossing the blanket aside and pushing himself up onto his stubby arms to glare at you from across the bed, "She hates him! She says he's a monster! And she hates monsters!"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, the young koopa falls uncharacteristically still and quiet, lowering his eyes down to his hands with a sombre expression, eyebrows once again sliding together over his forehead.

Startled away from speech, you can only watch on as he slowly curls his hands into tiny fists, and in doing so, hides his claws from sight.

"If she says Papa's a monster..." he croaks at a volume you didn't think he was capable of achieving, "Does that... make me a monster too?"

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

Thanks for reading <3

You can find the whole fic here x

#bowser junior #super mario bros #bowser x reader #bowser #Reader #throws this to the ravenous horde: Grub's up babes!

[yandere-wishes]

Opinion on the absolute ANCIENT history of Star Wars legends? Meaning Tulak Hord, Marka Ragnos and such

Anon I am SO SO SO SORRY this took me forever to answer. I loved the ask so much that I wanted to have the perfect mood and ambiance for when I answered it. Suffice it to say that that hasn't happened for a good while now. But I sincerely hope that you are still lurking around this blog and get a chance to see my response. I cannot express how excited this ask has made me!! I harbor an extremely unhealthy obsession with ancient Sith lords and their lore

I'm going to start off by saying that, if we were in the Star Wars universe I would have already become a Sith lord. Due SOLELY to how much Darkside lore I read~🖤❤️

I swear whenever I see a new Sith lord my brain goes: "Omg he's so ugly." Then he proceeds to live in my head rent-free for three days and on the third night, I find myself dreaming of making out with him... this has happened one too many times...It might be a little bit concerning. XD

Tulak Hord gives off major samurai vibes so I feel like he does follow some sorta Sith honor code. That being said he most likely acquires his darling as either a war trophy from some rival or conquered planet. Or she's a wide-eyed Acolyte who he can twist into his perfect darling. 

He's also so pretty and I want to kiss him so badly!!

 I'd love to be his little darling, a war trophy won in battle. Kept locked away within his fortress. A prize none but him are worthy to see. 

After each bloody campaign, he returns to you, his starlight. A dividend that keeps him fighting, keeps him tethered to the dark side of the force. He fights to provide you with an empire, to win your praises at his many accomplishments. 

 Little does he know of the aversion you harbor for him.

Tulak Hord the monster who took everything from you.  

No, but to be fair, I'd still be MADLY in love with him. Just imagine Lord Hord coming home from the battlefield, bloodied and still high off his bloodlust. 

Imagine straddling him as you lovingly peel off his bloodied armor. Kissing his flesh every time it appears from under his armor. He'd run his clawed gauntlets over your back tracing your spine. Making you shiver from the frigid steel. Your warmth feels welcoming, innocent, he longs to corrupt it. 

Then obviously kissing when you get to his helmet. Deep and passionate. Filled with hate and love. Out of fear, you've learned to play your role as a doubtful lover, a devoted wife, to a fault. 

"The universe is more complicated than you could ever imagine, starlight. Be thankful that I've shielded you away from all its inconsistencies."

It's getting harder and harder to remember why you resist him so much. Why push him away when his presence is so overwhelming? Consuming you wholly. 

"Thank you, my lord." 

NOW...

If you were his Acolyte things would play out a bit differently. He'd have trained you for so many years. Building you up to be the ultimate weapon and simultaneously his ideal darling. You're too far gone, mistaking toxins for affection. You've learned to cherish every bruise and broken bone that comes from him.

You were such a naive little girl when he first took an interest in you. Now he's morphed you into the scourge of the battlefield. The mere mention of your name sends generals running away in fear. 

He finds you after every campaign. Permits you the honor of washing his armor and tending to his wounds. Basking in the way your nimble fingers apply bacta to what little scars he may have received. 

Tulak is such a tremendous master. Personally seeing to your wellbeing and recovery. 

He pulls you onto his lap, kissing your open wounds as he stitches them for you. Sometimes he pulls his helmet up and plunges his tongue into the trauma lapping at the blood and broken muscles as he ravishes in your delightful moans. He'll whisper sweet praises into your ears, telling you how proud he is of all you've accomplished, what a stupendous sith lord you shall make someday, ruling by his side. All while his iron-clad fingers work bruises into your soft flesh. 

You are his perfect little doll.

Tulak Hord's perfect little acolyte.

Would it be wrong to say that I kinda want to be Marka Ragnos' concubine? Or just his pretty little princess who's always at his beck and call!! Look he's literally a giant hulking red alien with golden horns... what's not to love!! 

Plus I'd give anything to just sit on his lap as he holds court. Tracing patterns across his chest and relishing in the feeling of his claws scraping across your flesh, leaving his mark even when he's focused on galactic domination. 

Prior to that Marka would totally dress you in the most ethereal dresses!! All lavish golds and blood reds. Somedays they'd be full-blown multilayered dresses and other days (when he wants to show a bit more dominance) he'll have you wearing danity silk dresses that show more skin than you are comfortable with. 

He'd also shower you with praises throughout the day. Calling you his "sweet little princess" and "pretty girl". look getting called "pretty girl" by a sith lord is free therapy and I am HERE for it😤😍😤😍. 

I also have this random headcanon that Marka Ragnose is (in some ways) a father figure to Vitita/Valkorion/Tenebrae. That being said it's only logical for Marka Ragnos' darling to be (younger) Vitita's mother figure. In a twisted forceful way, they're kinda like a happy family. Also forced Yandere family is one of my fav tropes, so I had to reference it here lol. 

Okay, guys seriously this ask has made me so happy since the MOMENT I got it!! If anyone wants to send in asks for any Star Wars Sith lords (well-known ones, obscure ones, hated/loved ones) my ask box is wide open. 

In conclusion, I've been collecting Sith Lords to simp over like an 8-year-old collects Pokemon cards. Sith lords are unconventionally HOT and I'd totally be down to be there sweet little darling !! Like please just let me be a Sith Lord's cute little side piece, the eye candy that hangs off his arm. His pretty little bunny girl that'll do anything to please him.

(*Concerningly looks down at the pride and self-respect I just smashed.* "Whoops...that wasn't supposed to happen") 

Anon I think I answered your question with these little stories. I am very much IN LOVE with the ancient Sith lords. And it doesn't just stop at Tulak and Marka. I literally NEED a harm of Sith lords. Look they may not be conventionally handsome, but there's something about "the dark forces warping their appearance" that makes me go absolutely feral!! 🤣🤣😍😍

#yandere #yancore #yandere x you #yandere x reader #star wars #star wars dividers #star wars imagine #yandere star wars #darth maul #anakin skywalker #yandere aesthetic #star wars aesthetic #tulak hord #tulak hord x reader #yandere tulak hord #marka ragnos #marka ragnos x reader #yandere marka ragnos #yandere aliens #alien x reader #yandere alien #star wars the old republic #sith lords #star wars acolyte #maul x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #darth maul x reader #yandere anakin skywalker

[krookodyke]

if you cannot handle mean dykes then DON’T WATCH EMMA SELIGMAN MOVIES FUCKHEAD.

#txt #emma seligman #bottoms movie #shiva baby #the way that emma goes out of their way to make goofy asshole gay characters #in which majority gay characters in lighter stories are extremely sanitized and not allowed to be jerks or fuck up majorly #and naturally tumblr’s response is Hurr durr. But she was mean 😢 bitch STFU #the way i’ve seen people talk about PJ bottoms (and also to a lesser extent maya shiva baby) is fucking crazy LIKE #you’d think they’d dronebombed an orphanage or something instead of being a bit of a bitch to the girl they end up w in the end #also something so telling about the horde of hazel x reader freaks hating on PJ just being out of jealousy. LMAOOOO #très pathétique!

[lxvvie]

I want to be the first Horangi Horde(tm) ask

anyway I feel like he's suuuper big on eye contact especially during foreplay, your eyes WILL be on HIM.

That one ask about his thighs got me THINKING about him.

I have this personal headcanon that (W)Horangi incorporates dice into sexytimes.

This is what I mean: say that he chooses to edge you, yeah? He rolls a pair of dice—snake eyes—which means that for the next two minutes or so, while he edges you, you must look at him. No matter how good it gets, no matter how shy you are, you. must. look. at. him.

Can you do it, hm?

If you can't, he'll stop and start over again until you do and will keep doing it until you've looked at him for two straight minutes. ❤️

#nsfw. #(w)horangi (w)horde. #horangi x reader #horangi x poc reader #horangi x black reader #horangi x plus size reader

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Catra x gn! Reader - Masks

A/n: I was going to make this into angst but I didn't you lucky fucks

Summary: Catra has always found a way to break your mask, and you always return the favor though

Warnings: allusions to brutality/killing in war, abuse mentions (shadow weaver,) I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three p's:

[pronouns: you/your] [pov: 2nd person] [pairings: (romantic!) catra x reader, (platonic!) adora x reader, (platonic!) adora x catra]

The hoard wasn't all bad.

Sure, the hoard wasn't good and they were raising child soldiers but there was still so many good memories. Mostly because of the people that were in them.

You missed the days were Catra, you, and Adora were all together, you missed Catra most of all. You wish above all else that she would come to the side of the Rebellion and just see what you were seeing. Though Catra probably wouldn't even if she did, because sometimes she is just so involved in herself that she doesn't see past some things like how she thinks she isn't good enough.

You can thank Shadow Weaver for that one.

Shadow Weaver truly did love Adora even if it was because she honestly thought Adora was special (she wasn't wrong to be fair.) It was for selfish reasons, but she did in her own terrible abusive ways.

Then there was you.

She didn't treat you differently than she treated Catra at first, because at first you weren't special, you were the unspecial to the second unspecial one. When she found out you were naturally born with dark magic though? The world was turned upside down.

Training with Shadow Weaver was grueling, plus you didn't have a connection with her like Adora (and even a little bit Catra) did. You were just power to her, and she was so wrong to train you.

Because you are stronger than ever now.

Your magic wrapped around the horde soldiers as they scream in fear as you move them towards you and the other princesses with a bored look on your face. This isn't even that hard, these idiots should see what you are really able to do.

Frankly, what grabbed your attention was the growling of a cat that was also caught in this tornado of darkness.

Catra.

You drop the rest of the people and only held Catra now in the tornado. You knew she probably would have escaped if it was her and others in there, with just her she was truly alone and couldn't manipulate anyone to get her way.

"Let me go!" She screeches.

There was also the fact that you didn't really need the others.

____________

The cat's locked up in a room in Brightmoon and you can hear her scratches at the door and her screams to let her out.

For some reason they placed her in the room right next to yours so you had to listen to her all night, and all you want to do is sleep.

Glorious sleep.

You nearly got there, to dreamland where you could run free and let your emotions go, pretend like there wasn't a war. As if you had no powers, and find yourself surrounded by friends that didn't glance at you nervously all the time.

You see it, the way that Glimmer would glower at your powers, how the other princesses would stare at you with a little bit of fear, the manner that Bow would always step a little bit in front of his friends when you're around. Then there's Adora who's eyes would glaze over and her hand would go to her sword ready to strike.

That's why you found bittersweet comfort in your dreams, because you always had to pretend like the world couldn't touch you, you had to be the stoic one that would do the dirty work in the war. The one who would go with the people and see the blood and gore that came with it, to see them die knowing that it would break anyone else.

You value your escape, that's why you didn't care that Catra is maybe even scared, she needs to shut up.

You stomp out of your room and slam open her door before quickly closing it back up.

Catra couldn't get out as the room is sealed with dark magic courtesy of you, and if she tried to attack you, you would have the upper hand.

Besides, you know Catra probably better than she knows herself even with being away from her for so long.

"Oh look who it is." Catra laughs sarcastically with an almost pained look in her face. As her hair was a strangely frizzled mess, and there were bags under her eyes, yet she still looks as gorgeous as ever. As she always does.

"Someone else who abandoned everything for nothing."

"I'm assuming Adora already talked to you."

Catra scowls, "She did, and I don't need another hero complex talk."

You raise your eyebrow at her and cross your arms over your chest, the memories of the past flicker through your mind as this reminds you so much of your past banter. Even if this was dry and dark, nothing like the light atmosphere that it once was.

"I'm not here to give you one."

Catra rolls her eyes. "Then what are you here for then? That's what it seems like all you Rebellion people are useful for."

She narrows her eyes at you as if observing every part of you and trying to commit it to memory. "Although you aren't quite like the rest of them are you?"

Ah, here it comes, the moment she tries to recruit you back.

"I know you see the way they treat you, as if you're dangerous."

You roll your eyes, of course she's going this route, she may not be wrong but that doesn't mean she had good intentions.

"Well then spare me the Villain talk, Catra it won't work."

"Then why are you here? Why else then if you're not doubting your place in the rebellion?" She interrogates you, almost innocently looking.

That's where Catra is incorrect in her facts, you don't doubt your place in the rebellion because you know it's the right choice. Just because people assume you're dangerous doesn't mean you're going to cry back over the horde because they "don't understand." You would be a weapon over there, at least here you can use your abilities for what you would like.

"I'm actually here to tell you to be quiet, I would like to get some sleep tonight and you meowing like an injured kitten isn't helping." You deadpan.

Catra glares at you. "Did I really mean that little to you, did what we use to have mean so little to you? That you just came in hear to tell me to shut up?" She's says, offended as she balls her hands into fists at her sides.

Sighing you run a hand through your hair, Catra is the most difficult person to have a conversation with that doesn't make you want to actively to pull your hair out. One moment she's the enemy and in another she wants to be your lover.

"Of course it matters, but you made your decision and you broke my heart when you stayed. Why would I ever come into this room to have a lovely conversation to reminisce about the past?" You scoff. "Trusting you, is out of the question."

You turn on your heel once you realize it's silent, you have completed your original mission and unfortunately gave yourself more to keep yourself up at night. Catra may be silent tonight, but she still managed to find a way to invade every corner of your mind.

"Y/n wait-" She goes to grab your hand but you knock it out of the way before she can.

"What are you going to say Catra? Sorry, I doubt it. I can't stand when you're lke this, it makes the different colors of your eyes a true story." You glance at them once before looking away. "Two faced."

"Please." She tries again. "Come back to the horde, I won't force you to do anything just come back."

"I said no, I'm not going to sacrifice my morals for you."

Then there's the shift, you see it, the moment those words (the truth) come out of your mouth she's the enemy again.

"Oh, stop it!" She laughs at you. "I've seen you on the battlefield, what would the princesses think if they truly see what you do? Do you think there will be any chance of them accepting you then?"

The dark magic swirls around for a split second you but you close your eyes and calm yourself from using it. It would trigger to much of Shadow Weaver for Catra, and then you would have a real problem.

You have to be the stoic one again, you can't let your emotions get the best of you. Not even with your lover.

"You need to listen to me very carefully Catra." You start. "The princesses already know what I do, and although you might think I will flatter on the battlefield when facing you." You pause as you see her eye twitch.

"I will not, you said it yourself, you've seen how I fight. I don't want to live without you, but that doesn't mean I can't. Don't make me prove."

"What does that mean?" Her voice wavers at the end despite her false bravo.

"It means you have to make a choice. Join the rebellion, or you'll loose me forever."

"I can't just let go of everything I've built!" She hisses and stalks up to you so you're chest to chest and everything you tried to coach yourself into flies out the window.

"Who are you proving a point to? Adora? Adora just wants her friend back. Me perhaps?" You pretend to think before rolling your eyes. "Oh wait, I know! Shadow Weaver."

"I'm not-"

"How many times do you have to suffer before you realize giving up is sometimes the strongest thing you can do." You whisper as you brush lock of hair behind her ear and she gazes at you with wide eyes.

"Join the rebellion, Catra." You breathe out, as your faces grow closer.

She squeezes her eyes shut tightly before finally collapsing into your arms, her red mask clattering to the ground.

"Yes, I'll join you."

For the first time in a long time you smile.

Words 1679

-thedelusionreaderbitch

she ra taglist: no one yet! (Just comment, dm, or send me a message and I'll add you!)

#Catra x reader #catra x reader #spop #adora #adora x reader #spop x reader #delusion writes #catra #the horde #catra x gn! reader #masks #catra imagine #she ra #she ra x reader #spop catra #she ra spop #she ra and the princesses of power #spop x you #x reader #spop imagines #she ra fandom #catradora

[assortedvillainvault]

Hello!! >:3

I see we share same F/O from Hazbin Hotel! :DD yay!!

I’d like to ask for headcanons where S/O had snake when alive and they kinda treat him like their snake pet? (Feeding him mouses/rats, trying to find his skin or helping him “undress” from his old skin to new one)?

Thanks! Have a nice rest of the day/night!

Ayyyyy another Sir Pentious simp spotted!! Excellent taste anon, excellent taste :D

I dunno about treating him like a pet since that strikes me as kinda weird (that and I think we'd be shot if we tried to baby talk him for the adorable expressions he pulls when excited) but pulling in experience from having had snakes as pets in life? Absolutely!

Sir Pentious x ExperiencedWithSnakes!Reader:

For the most part he's pretty self sufficient - he dropped into hell over 150 years ago so he's had plenty of time to get used to his new physiology - heck he's been a snake longer than he was human, so if you treat him as a helpless invalid he's going to get snappy with you.

That's not to say he doesn't appreciate a helping hand - he loves being treated like a treasure, admire his scales more darling they're shiny~

It will take a long time of waiting before he lets you get anywhere near his shedding times. He despises being vulnerable and unpresentable, and shedding induces both. It's also practical to keep you away until he knows he can trust you: over a hundred eyes and shedding renders every one of them blind? In Hell it's a miracle to find someone who wouldn't take advantage of such a weakness.

Once deemed trustworthy though you're getting to work helping him get out of the old skin. He's over 15 feet long and it's i t c h y.

There's no 'finding' the skins once they're shed since he makes sure to collect it all up during the process. He also chucks it straight into the furnace of his airship since he's learned the hard way that Hell's magical community can use body parts, even old and shed stuff like hair and nails, as a target for spells.

That and the eggs like to dress up in it which is too weird even for him.

If you're going to feed him rats/mice etc can you PLEASE put it on a plate first?? Manners dear, this gent grew up with knives and forks and is Determined to keep using them, circumstances and lack of gag reflex be damned.

He's too big to be carried on your shoulders, but your body warmth is much appreciated, let him coil around you like a sentient beanbag so he can take advantage please.

Due to your familiarity you've been able to pick up on a lot of his more subtle body language that the vast majority of Hell misses out on. You're not even sure if he knows he's giving off the signals, but your timely intervention has been much appreciated on a few occasions.

To your delight he actually shows off more snake like habits when he's relaxed, usually with you. He absentmindedly tastes the air a lot when thinking, has a tendency to sway gently in place, and find places to literally 'hang' on his ship so he can relax the human portion of his body from being upright all the time.

He gets serious muscle cramps from forcing himself upright to mimic standing. Prideful git refuses to drop into a full body crawl as his physiology demands, but the massages you give him to ease the pain are divine.

You, uh, have tried to move him before out of habit from scooping up your previous pets. Sweetheart, love, he's nearly a metric ton of danger noodle, don't even try. He doesn't want you to throw your back out.

He first time he genuinely hissed at you you jerked back in shock and bopped his nose out of sheer muscle memory, "Don't take that tone with me!" It worked, much to both your embarrasments.

#anon this was a delight thank you for the prompt to write about our best snake man <3 #thalassa responds #x reader #sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #genuinely cannot wait to start getting proper episodes of this show so we can finally get our crumbs of Sir P and horde them like gremlins

[sunshine-gumdrop]

Mad sweeney & Ellie

#mad sweeney x reader #mad sweeney #american gods #my oc #ellie #my oc art #inspired by invasion series #horde #luck #bad luck #leprechaun

[reading-hub]

ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴏf ᴡᴀʀᴄʀᴀꜰᴛ 🌎 ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

❌ NOT taking requests at this time ❌

⚠️ 18+ = marked as not safe for work; viewer discretion advised ⚠️

I also write cross faction/race relationships too; because make love, not war(craft) ♥️

Fᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖

ᴀɴᴅᴜɪɴ ᴡʀʏɴɴ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴠᴀʀɪᴀɴ ᴡʀʏɴɴ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴊᴀɴɪᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴛʏʀᴀɴᴅᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴡɪɴᴅ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴍᴀʟꜰᴜʀɪᴏɴ sᴛᴏʀᴍʀᴀɴɢᴇ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴɴ ɢʀᴇʏᴍᴀɴᴇ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀʏsᴀ ᴄʟᴏᴜᴅsɪɴɢᴇʀ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʟʟɪᴀɴᴄᴇ !

— 🔅 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔅

ᴄʜᴇɴ sᴛᴏʀᴍsᴛᴏᴜᴛ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴛᴀʀᴀɴ ᴢʜᴜ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴠᴀʀᴏᴋ sᴀᴜʀꜰᴀɴɢ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

— 🔅 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔆 — 🔅

ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀᴅᴇ !

ᴛʜʀᴀʟʟ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴀʀʀᴏsʜ ʜᴇʟʟsᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴠᴏʟ’ᴊɪɴ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʙᴀɪɴᴇ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʜᴏᴏꜰ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sʏʟᴠᴀɴᴀs ᴡɪɴᴅʀᴜɴɴᴇʀ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʟᴏʀ’ᴛʜᴇᴍᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇʀᴏɴ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴊɪ ꜰɪʀᴇᴘᴀᴡ /ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴠɪʟʟɪᴀɴs & ʙᴏssᴇs / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖ 🔅 ➖

ɪʟʟɪᴅᴀɴ sᴛᴏʀᴍʀᴀɴɢᴇ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀʀᴛʜᴀs ᴍᴇɴᴇᴛʜɪʟ / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sɪʀᴇ ᴅᴇɴᴀᴛʜʀɪᴜs / ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

#world of warcraft #wow alliance #wow horde #wow x reader #wow dragonflight

[charliedawn]

Okay Charlie hear me out on something, and I’ve been thinking about this for a while, it’s not a request it’s more of an idea or thought. (It might be dark idk)

Let’s say the nurse went to a different sanitarium, and the patients she treated were horrible towards her, what do I mean? I mean like they were all a group. Each and every one of them broke her down and she just accepted it. They played around with her like a doll didn’t care about her, they used her for anything and she accepted it. It took a lot for her to leave all of that toxicity leaving mainly scars on her back. Once she came to St. Louis (if I spelled it wrong correct me)

Obviously, she thought the same thing would happen, until the slashers actually started to like her and treated her differently. Sometimes she’ll flinch thinking they’ll hurt her like the others did but will play it off, until maybe…idk pennywise or anyone else who has mind powers finally goes in her head to see what happened, or maybe one of them catch her with the scars on her back. like when she first arrived she was all stone cold until she slowly opened up a little more. She promised herself to never cry in front of people but them confronting her about it just made her emotional since she felt worthless and used at that time and knowing they care means a lot

Like I said just a thought I had and would see what you’d like about it.

The slashers knew that you had transferred from another mental hospital before coming to St Louis. They just didn’t know how bad it was until one day…The scars showed and some of the staff members started gossiping about it. Soon, all the patients knew of what had happened, and they decided to try and see the scars for themselves…Not expecting how bad they were.

Jason saw them when he asked you to give him a bath. You rolled up your sleeves and he noticed familiar marks on your body.

But, you weren’t the only one being exposed.

Jason normally never showed his scars to anyone but his mother. But once in the bath, you eyes traveled along his scars. There were ugly red angry scars. He was covered in them.

You didn’t say anything, he didn’t either.

You just kept washing his hair and he stared at the ceiling—barely giving you a few glances from time to time. He could see that the scars weren’t only on your arms. He could see they were going far beyond what he could see.

When you were about to leave, he surprised you by grabbing the hem of your shirt and looking at you with pleading eyes.

You knew what he was asking for. Your eyes stayed locked and even though he didn’t utter a word, you had learned to understand him without the need for him to speak.

You sighed before wordlessly raising your shaking hands to your collar as you started unbuttoning your shirt. As you went along, his eyes stayed glued on you—watching intently as each scar was revealed to him.

He was actually surprised to find that you had almost as many as him. But unlike him…His eyes lowered a little…You weren’t even a killer.

He wanted to speak. It was the first time he wished he could actually speak and find the words to make it all alright. But the moment he looked up, you were already gone…

Freddy Krueger :

"…You don’t need to hide them."

You stopped dead in your tracks before turning around to face Freddy with a slight frown of incomprehension.

"…What ?"

He tilted his head and for the first time, Freddy wasn’t smiling. He eyed your body up and down and leaned forward.

"You can try to cover them up all ya want, sweetheart. The scars ain’t gonna poof out of existence just cause ya want them gone. Believe me from experience. So, if ya wanna hear my advice ?" He crossed his arms over the table and laid his chin on them before looking straight at you. "…Be proud of them. Wear them like a fucking flag and make fuckers shake in their boots cause ya too damn badass for them to break ya."

You stayed silent as you kept looking at Freddy and you smiled—your eyes softening as you realised that Freddy was trying to make you feel better.

"Thanks, Freddy. You’re pretty badass too."

He huffed a laugh—but his eyes showed more than his smile as he replied.

"Yeah. Right. Be grateful you can hide the scars and don’t look like an overused chewing gum…" He grins. "Besides, haven’t ya heard ? Scars is the new sexy."

You laughed and shook your head.

"Right. Then you must be the god of sexy."

He smirked.

"Oh, honey…~Of course I am."

Brahms Heelshire :

You were playing dress up. Brahms had insisted you play with him and wanted to dress you up with some of the dresses Barry had made.

He waited for you to change, but he couldn’t help to take a sneak peek at you—an old habit from his days hidden in the walls of his old house.

But, he didn’t expect to see the subtle rivers of red scars running down your back. He stayed shocked for a few seconds and it gave you enough time to notice his reflection in the mirror.

You quickly turned around and he could see it in your face. You were upset.

"Brahms ! I said not to look ! Bad boy !"

In normal circumstances, that last part would have made him whimper and beg for your forgiveness. But, not this time. This time…Brahms seemed to realise that you had a past he knew nothing about and suffering he would probably never be able to understand.

He came in and hugged you tightly.

You were about to speak up when he beat you to it.

"You look really pretty…"

Your eyes widened at the compliment and you didn’t know what to say. You knew he was talking about the dress and how it looked on you—but you still started crying. You embraced him back and for once, Brahms was the one to comfort you as he held you in his arms and couldn’t seem to find any other way to reassure you but to keep complimenting you and hoping that if he said it enough, you would end up believing it…

Michael Myers :

Michael noticed the bandages around your wrists and the fact that you seemed to hide your body with sweaters and jackets…He knew.

Of course he knew.

But, he didn’t ask at the beginning because well…He didn’t care enough to ask. And then, he started to care. And that made him afraid. Because Michael Myers always kills the people he cares about. And he didn’t want to kill you.

But, he could see your suffering and the fact that nobody else seemed to understand or even notice your pain was driving him insane. Until, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He grabbed your wrist and as you were about to ask what was going on, he dragged you back to a room. Once you were alone, he wrapped his arms around your waist and whispered.

"Show…me."

You didn’t understand at first, not until he started pulling on your sweater and lift it just enough for his hands to touch the scars.

Your eyes widened in shock and fear as you tried to push him away.

"No, Michael ! No !"

But, he didn’t listen. He would see them. He would feel them. And he would heal them…Because that’s what you were doing for the slashers on a regular basis. And he would drop dead before letting you think he didn’t see you…

He laid his hands flat on your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"…I…care." He buried his face in your neck. "I care…"

You were so shocked about hearing him speak that you actually stopped struggling and started crying instead—finally hugging him back.

"I know, Michael. I know…"

Bo Sinclair :

"…Look at that. We got matchin’ friendship bracelets, darls’. If that ain’t a sign ? Then I dunno what is."

Bo noticed your wrists and the familiar binding scars. He had the same damn scars around his wrists. He knew what they meant. He knew torture and pain.

It was even worse when it came from people you thought cared about you. He thought for a long time that his ma and pa had a good reason to attach him and force feed him. He always thought they loved him…But it was only an illusion.

Your older patients…You surely cared for them—or you tried to. But, the scars were proof enough that this care was one-sided and that at the end, they had taken more from you than they had ever given you.

Bo stroked the scars on your wrists and offered you a sad smile.

"…They may not have loved you, nurse. But you can be sure that we’ll love ya bette’ for it," He looked up at you and "You’ll be a’right. I’ll make sure of it."

He grabbed your forearm and pressed his own scars against your own before pressing his forehead against yours.

"…We gonna be a’right. You and I. We gonna be a’right. I promise."

Your eyes filled with tears as you squeezed his forearm back.

"Yeah, Bo. We’re going to be alright."

Penny :

It was in your bedroom when Penny first saw them. He was hiding underneath your bed and was waiting to jump scare you when you started undressing and his eyes widened when he saw your damaged back.

He kept staring before you were asleep in bed and then, he slowly crept up your bed until his face was right above your sleeping face.

He started sniffing your scars and growled lowly when he realised where you had gotten them from. They had hurt you…

He then slowly opened his mouth to lick your back—trying to soothe the pain. Some of them even healed up a little as he tried to make them disappear. He didn’t like to see you hurt.

Not a lot of people knew of Penny’s healing abilities. Especially since he didn’t like to use it on just anybody. But for you ? He’d make an exception…

When you stirred in your sleep, he had no choice but to stop. But, he still raised his hand to slowly caress your face and giggled quietly.

"…Brave, nursy."

He whispered as you kept your eyes closed and Penny sighed before nuzzling your face.

"…They will pay. They will pay. I will devour their stupid souls and eat them whole. I’ll make them regret every hurting you, my little nurse…"

He then kissed your cheek.

Your eyes suddenly opened—but he was gone.

Pennywise :

Pennywise sat down next to you as you were having your break. He didn’t speak at first. You glanced at him curiously, but you didn’t try to break the silence.

You were starting to wonder if whether or not you should say something or leave when he finally spoke up.

"I saw many people with scars. Even Penny. I saw men, women and children try to hide their physical scars in fear or shame but…" Pennywise slowly removed one of his gloves and your eyes widened in shock when he actually laid his hand flat on yours. "…I don’t think so."

You stared at his hand on top of yours and were speechless for a second. Pennywise didn’t like to be touched. And the fact that he was now holding your hand was a real shock.

"Pennywise…You do not have to…" You tried to tell him.

He looked at you and smiled.

"It won’t bother me as much if I know it is for you…"

He tried to sound nonchalant, but his hand was shaking. He was forcing himself to stay still and make you feel better.

Finally, he retreated his hand, but the fact that he had actually succeeded in holding on as long as he did was a huge progress.

You smiled to yourself before looking at him.

"Thank you, Pennywise."

He smiled back.

"You’re welcome, sugar."

Dennis :

You were washing the dishes with Dennis when his eyes spotted the little red scars on your arms. You followed his gaze and sighed before lowering your sleeves a little. Dennis looked up at your annoyed expression and wordlessly finished washing the dishes with you.

As you were leaving to get to your office however, he grabbed your hand. You frowned and looked back at him and he opened his mouth. He was silent for a few seconds before finally telling you:

"…The Horde expected me to protect them, so I did…But nobody came to help me when I needed protecting. So, I know how it feels. And that if you ever need protection ? I am here. And I…understand."

As you weren’t reacting, he thought you might find his words inappropriate or odd. He sighed and released your hand.

"…Just wanted to let you know."

He then turned around to leave.

But, you caught his hand before he could walk away and Dennis was momentarily stunned before he looked back at you and his astonishment turned to worry when he saw that you were crying.

But, his eyes widened when he felt you squeeze his hand and you offered his a small smile.

"…Thank you, Dennis."

He looked back down at your hand holding his and gulped before squeezing it back with a small smile of his own.

"…You’re welcome."

Norman Bates :

"…Y/N…" His voice was weak. It was the first time Norman seemed so upset. He stared at your naked back and the angry red scars. They were so deep and some looked like the red feathers of imprinted wings.

He was speechless. When you tried to cover up, he stepped forward and held you closely—kissing the scars on your back gently.

"…I am so sorry, darling. I should have been here. I should have…" Norman felt so ashamed. He knew you from far before any of the slashers met you. But he had never really realised how bad it was.

"You couldn’t have. You didn’t know." You tried to reassure him, but he only held you tighter.

"I should have. Forgive me, my darling. Forgive me." He pleaded and his eyes filled with tears as he embraced you tightly and kept kissing your scars.

He wanted the pain to be gone.

Why hadn’t you said anything ? Why hadn’t you told him the truth ? Why hadn’t you given him the opportunity to avenge you ?

He felt anger bubbling in his chest.

…People were going to die tonight…

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #norman bates x reader #bo sinclair x reader #dennis x reader #the horde x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #slashers au

[writeyouin]

Could you do a swerve x dragon-shifter reader?

A/N – I probably won’t be posting a fic tomorrow, so Happy Halloween to everybody.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Swerve turned on the TV above his bar, fully absorbed by one of the latest shows from Earth, House of Dragons, though he would have gladly pointed out to anyone who would listen, the reptilian creatures on the show were actually Wyverns, not dragons, and so the show was somewhat misnamed.

He set about cleaning while the show played, his optics glued to the screen as he wiped down the countertops and performed various other duties. Finally, all that was left to do was to clean the glasses from the previous cycle, so they would be ready for the next slew of Energon cocktails.

Swerve grabbed a fresh cleaning rag and absent-mindedly reached under the bar for the first of many glasses, but he found nothing but empty air. Puzzled, Swerve was forced to tear his optics away from the TV, bending down to look for the glasses. To his surprise, every single one was gone as well as all the pitchers and any beakers he had.

Swerve threw his head back, laughing at the strangeness of the situation. He wasn’t worried, knowing full well where all his missing items were. Every so often, you, the ship’s only human would take a large collection of items. It seemed that you took whatever fascinated you, squirrelling the items in question to your room.

It had started with the ship’s datapads, which Skids had been employed to find. It didn’t take him long to crack the case, tracking the datapads’ collective signal to your hab-suite. When asked why you had taken them, you had made an odd comment about the datapads being a veritable trove of knowledge.

After that, you had stolen Rung’s collection of model ships, taking them back to your room where you carefully set them up in a circle around your bed. Then it had been Geode’s collection of rocks from other planets, which when found in your room, you had called precious jewels worth protecting.

Nobody knew why you hoarded other peoples’ items, but no one took offence at the odd behaviour since you always returned what you had taken when asked. Your quirk was accepted as just another one of those weird things that happened aboard the Lost Light, though as a psychiatrist Rung was determined to find the cause of your behaviour.

Now that you had taken Swerve’s glasses, he was practically giddy with excitement. It gave him a reason to visit you. You were his long-time crush whom he had admired from afar. Granted, he had never actually spoken to you, but now was his chance. It was no secret that Swerve was obsessed with humans and you were the first one that he would officially meet in person; it was exhilarating.

Leaving his bar, Swerve walked to your hab-suite, practicing what he would say when he saw you. He knocked eagerly on your door, wondering if he would get the chance to say everything that he wanted to. There was just so much to talk about, and he didn’t know where to start.

You opened the door, half-hiding behind it as you looked up at the mini-bot who was almost twice your size with large curious eyes.

“Hi (Y/N)!” Swerve greeted you loudly with an energetic wave. “It’s great to meet you, you know, in person! I’m like, a huge fan of yours. I mean, we kind of met in passing once, but we didn’t get to talk, and you were busy and, uh, well-”

“You’re Swerve,” You stated, interrupting him.

Swerve’s face-plates heated up and his cooling fans clicked on, whirring quietly.

“You know me?” He squeaked. 

You nodded passively.

“That’s- That’s so cool. It’s so great that you take interest in other people and pay attention, you know? Gosh, I have so much I want to say and-”

“Don’t you have to go and open your bar?”

“My bar?” Swerve blinked, having forgotten all about it in his excitement. “Oh yeah! That’s why I’m here actually. My glasses went missing and I’m just spit-balling here, but I think that you might have them?”

You eyed Swerve warily, overly aware that just like the others he was going to take your newest collection away. However, seeing as you had stolen them in the first place, you didn’t argue your case. Instead, you merely nodded and stepped aside, allowing Swerve entry into your room.

Swerve couldn’t help grinning when he saw all his glasses, beakers, and pitchers. They had been carefully placed in concentric circles around the room. Swerve moved slowly and deliberately, careful not to smash anything. As he looked around, he knew that he would have to get some crates to retrieve everything; he honestly couldn’t fathom how you had gotten everything to your room alone and unseen, but just like your previous heists, you had managed it.

Swerve looked down at you, his expression one of pure glee as he wondered why you had taken his glasses of all things.

“So, my glasses, huh?” He said pointedly, prompting you to explain. When you didn’t respond, he made his question more obvious, “Why these?”

To answer Swerve’s question, you dimmed the lights and then grabbed a torch and placed it on the floor in the corner of the room, turning it on. Its beam passed through the first glass refracting on the corners and splitting. The new light beams passed through several other glasses and so on and so forth until the whole room was filled with light. Thanks to the stains of different Energon cocktails, the light beams covered the walls and ceiling with magnificent splashes of colours.

“I love the way they light up,” You admitted, watching the patterns with a dreamy expression.

Swerve spun around in awe, and then he grimaced guiltily upon realising that he would have to take such beauty away from you if he was to open his bar.

“It’s okay,” You sighed. “You can take your things back now. There are some boxes in the storage cupboard next door.”

“Uh, great, thanks.” Swerve tried to smile but found it hard now that he was going to ruin all your hard work and the way you had turned something ugly and mundane into something beautiful and intricate.

A short while later Swerve had two boxes filled with everything you had taken from his bar. You sat cross-legged on the floor, quite used to losing what you had so carefully pillaged. Feeling bad for you, Swerve rifled through the top box, pulling out a single glass and holding it out for you.

“Here,” He proffered, “I know it’s not much, but you can keep this one.”

Your eyes lit up as you reached for the glass, “Really?”

“Sure,” Swerve chuckled, but instead of handing it to you, he placed it over the torch, turning it into a makeshift disco ball.

You spun around to admire the veritable kaleidoscope of colours.

“Thank you,” You smiled appreciatively at Swerve, whose spark thrummed in response.

 “No- No problem. Hey um… Can I visit you sometime?” He asked shyly.

You nodded enthusiastically, glad to have met someone who was trying to understand you.

“Great, then I’ll see you later,” Swerve grinned, picking up the boxes and taking his leave. However, when he returned to his bar, he decided not to open it for the night. Instead, he sat alone in a booth, placed a torch upright on a table, and set a glass over it. Then, resting his head on his forearms, he stared at the surrounding lights and sighed dreamily, his processor clouded with thoughts of you.

The next day, Swerve visited you as promised. He also came back the following day, and the one after that, and again after that. Soon, he was visiting you every day, completely besotted with you. He worried that you might grow bored of his company or sense his desperation for something more, but you never once sent him away, seemingly enjoying his company as much as he enjoyed yours.

One night, Swerve heard that the ship might soon be docking on a nearby planet to stock up on supplies. Unable to wait till the morning, he rushed to find you. However, in his excitement, he forgot his usual good manners and without knocking, he let himself into your room.

Once inside, all excitement was forgotten as Swerve stood dumbfounded, trying to process the monster with which he now stood face to face. In shock, his processor fed him bite-sized scraps of information as he attempted to grasp what he was seeing.

Slitted eyes that gleamed bright green.

Scales that glittered, protecting a rough hide.

Pointed spines ran along the creature's back.

Fangs so sharp that they could likely penetrate even Cybertronian metal.

“Dragon,” Swerve squeaked as the pieces came together in his mind.

Then, as he came to his senses, Swerve’s optics swept across the room, seeking you out.

“(Y/N)!” He cried, fearing the worst.

Stuck with the dragon, Swerve knew that he couldn’t properly search for you until it had been captured or killed. Fortunately, the beast hadn’t attacked yet and if Swerve could only make it the few steps back to the doorway, then he would be able to press the alarm to call for backup. Any other bot might have tried using their private comms for help but, unpopular as Swerve was, he knew that most bots would ignore his communication signal, and Rung, the only bot who might listen was incapacitated in the medical bay.

Swerve carefully took one step back, fear clutching at his spark as he dared another. Before he could retreat any further, the dragon lunged forward, moving faster than lightning and with all the grace of the wind. It half-scampered up the wall and before Swerve could take even one more step back, it was behind him, blocking the exit and the alarm.

Swerve stumbled back, horrified. He shook his head and forced himself to get back up, his mind solely on you and where you might be.

Infuriated, he yelled at the beast, “I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH (Y/N), YOU WALKING SLAG PILE!”

The dragon’s sternum heaved in response as it released a low rumbling growl. The growl wasn’t an unfriendly sound. It was more like a mournful song of a creature that didn’t wish to fight or be fought. Upon hearing such a sound, Swerve forced himself to reassess the situation. He glanced behind him, noticing for the first time that there was yet another one of your collections; this time it was a large stack of curly straws stolen from “Visages.”

Swerve looked back at the dragon, daring to voice a concerned query, no matter how little sense it made.

“(Y/N)?”

The dragon stared at him glumly, and before his very optics, it started to shrink. The spikes that once lined its back retreated into its skin. Its wings melted away into nothingness. The fangs rounded off into small teeth as the once elongated snout retreated into its face, and slowly the dragon was no longer that, but the only resident human aboard the Lost Light.

“(Y/N)…” Swerve repeated your name, perplexed by the transformation.

“Don’t tell anyone,” You pleaded, looking him in the eye.

“…I don’t get it,” Swerve stated, dazed by what he had seen.

“What’s to get? I can turn into a dragon as easily as you can turn into a car.”

“But- But Cybertronians are meant to transform. We have T-Cogs. It’s what we are. You’re a human.”

“Which is exactly why you can’t tell anyone,” You reiterated. “They wouldn’t understand and I don’t want to be a part of any weird experiments.”

“What? (Y/N), the bots here wouldn’t do anything to you.”

“Really?” You said drily. “You can speak for all of them?”

Swerve faltered, “Well no… Not all of them.”

“So, you’ll keep my secret then?”

If you had asked it of him, Swerve would have walked to the ends of Cybertron for you. He would have claimed uncharted planets in your name, brought you the finest gifts, and found the lost city of Atlantis; in short, he would have done anything you asked of him, and keeping your secret was no different.

“Okay,” He promised.

“Thank you,” You breathed, relieved.

“No problem,” Swerve replied, then after a minute of silence, he couldn’t contain himself any longer and he began his usual hyperactive babbling.

“So, you’re like a real-life dragon? Do you have to eat more than other humans do? Are there more of you? Can you fly? I mean, you have wings, but are they only for gliding? Can you breathe fire? Wait… Is this why you hoard things?”

You smiled shyly at his inquiry, finding no admonishment in his tone.

“I can’t help it,” You admitted sheepishly. “I just see things and I can’t resist taking them.”

“But you always give them back,” Swerve pointed out, curiously.

“I’m not a thief, Swerve… I just need to collect things sometimes.”

“Okay, but why those things? They had nothing in common with each other.”

“Sometimes I collect what I personally value, but other times, it’s just what my inner-dragon thinks is pretty.”

Swerve thought back to the things you had taken in the past. The datapads and ships had to be your human side since you had a fascination with knowledge and intergalactic travel. The gems and glasses however were sure to be your draconic side, pretty for a little while until their charm had worn off. It seemed that your personality was multi-faceted, with one side animalistic and wild, and the other intelligent and sensitive.

With his most burning question answered, Swerve returned to his earlier questions, hardly able to wait for one answer before he asked something else.

Having relinquished your recent collection of curly straws back to Mirage, you found yourself hungering for something new to hoard in your draconic state.

Curled in on yourself, you closed your eyes lazily, your thoughts drifting to things that were pretty or interesting. Usually, you would spend days pondering the matter, but that night, there was only one thing you wanted, your human and dragon minds in full agreement over what it should be for once.

Moving silently to the door, you lowered your snout, inhaling deeply so you would smell any bots that might have been lingering in the hallway. Your superior senses painted a clear picture allowing you to scent all the way from your hab-suite to your goal, providing you with a clear path where nobody would see you.

Moving faster than the wind of a storm, you sped through the ship’s corridors, hastily switching directions if you sensed the sudden appearance of any Cybertronians. It didn’t take you long to reach your destination. You slunk silently into the room, eyeing your prize through slitted pupils.

For the first time, you had found a treasure that you didn’t intend to return, but instead of spiriting it away to your hab-suite, you decided to settle in with it for the night.

Curling around Swerve’s berth, you rested your head lightly atop his chassis, eliciting a satisfied rumble from your throat.

Swerve blearily opened his eyes, gasping in shock when he found himself holding you against his chassis. Having been asleep, you had unwittingly reverted into your human form, safe in Swerve’s hold.

“(Y/N)?” He whispered, sure that he was dreaming.

At the sound of your name, you stirred from your light slumber, tiredly pushing yourself up onto your forearms to look at Swerve.

Smiling sleepily, you pressed a kiss to Swerve’s lips. Swerve froze at the unexpected contact, too afraid to do anything.

Upon breaking the kiss, you snuggled back down against Swerve’s chassis, mumbling, “Go back to sleep treasure, it’s too early.”

Mechanically, Swerve placed his arms around you, the newest addition to your hoard.

Like My Work? Buy Me A Ko-Fi @ https://ko-fi.com/writeyouin or Tip Me on Tumblr

#swerve #swerve x reader #swerve x you #transformers #tf #maccadam #mtmte #more than meets the eye #the lost light #ll #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #reader insert #a dragon's horde #a dragons horde

[madame-fear]

bae we need jacaerys x twin sister from you

omfg i never thought you guys would ask 😭 YES. OFC.

if anyone has any particular request (though only thoughts and brief imagines are open at the moment) about this ^^^ feel free to tell me pls omg, whether it's smut or fluff or whatever 👀

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon smut #hotd x reader #hord smut #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #—[.🧋] ; amira loves rambling #amira loves rambling #ask box messages #ask box #ask box open

[libidinous-weeb]

how tf did dabi end up the scum bag womanizer in this fandom when hawks literally looks like he lies to women just for fun

#people call dabi gross and annoying #and smelly #but sure okay he’s the one with a new bitch every night #hawks literally flirts with hordes of women on the street #he showed up in the whackest fit i ever seen in my life at the airport and every woman in the place creamed her pants #nigga got mommy and daddy issues and he ain’t close to anybody really #your honor this man is the pump n dump champ and not dabi #all dabi thinks about is hate hate die kill die kill #hawks lies constantly without breaking a sweat with an easy grin on his face #dabi is the salty bitch that says shit no one wants to hear #i’m right and you all know lmao #bnha #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #keigo takami x reader #dabi #touya todoroki

[suvidrache]

To The Mountains

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 2,426 / Read it on AO3 | Offline Version

Warning mentions: injuries, near-death, sex, and drugging.

Hord had plans. He was the best there was at what he did. He had helped Tenris capture a bear. He wasn't sure what Tenris' plans were or what he intended to do with the bear. He only knew he needed a bear and Hord got him exactly that: a baby bear. It wasn't very hard capturing it, as he was great at things like that. Clan law forbade the killing of hunters - animals such as bears, wolves, orcas, etc. To assist Tenris was to break clan law.

The bear had a demon placed inside it by Tenris. The bear stripped Torak of his father and many other unnamed people of their life.

Hord had felt guilty about what had happened. As things progressively got worse, his anxiety only increased. 

When Torak came to the Raven Clan Hord didn't hesitate to take credit for bringing Torak in. Despite Oslak having been the one to have caught him. Torak was ordered to be executed, Torak asked for a trial by combat, and Hord jumped at the chance to win a fight against him. To show his entire clan just how good he really was. Hord was nineteen and Torak was twelve. Torak won the fight, which greatly upset Hord. He deserved to have won, not lost, especially to a boy.

Even the mention of the bear bothered Hord. He chewed at the edges of his fingers and his nails. Nervous about what other damage had been caused - damage he helped to cause. 

When Torak and Hord's sister, Renn, took off before anything could be decided. Hord didn't hesitate to take off after them. He wanted to be the one to make amends. The one who saved the world. A man. The thought of losing to a boy and even worse, not even saving the world drove him to hunger, to turning his fingers to sores from the number of times he bit at them, and to lack of sleep.

Fin-Kedinn had nearly lost his life to the bear. Hord already made plans to take over as clan leader, despite Fin-Kedinn still being alive. Hord was desperate to be first and scared he would only be second. Hord wanted nothing to do with his sister after she betrayed the clan and ran away with Torak. Fin-Kedinn had thought she was dead and didn't speak for days. 

When Torak had been brought back to the clan, it was decided that Torak would be the one to fulfill the prophecy. Hord followed after him as soon as he could. He wasn't going to fail. Not again. He was determined to be the savior of his people and to make amends for the creation he helped with.

It was quite easy for Hord to follow after Torak. Hord tried his best at fighting Torak, trying to fulfill the prophecy of giving the listener's blood to the mountain. Torak had managed to get free of Hord. Hord rose to follow after him yet again, but this time, he slipped. Hord fell right as the bear made its way up the mountain. An avalanche had fallen, and the snow had killed both Hord and the bear.

No one questioned it when Torak had returned and the fact that Hord was missing. They accepted it and knew there would be no finding him. That, unfortunately, he would be without death marks. All dead people needed death marks to prevent their souls from wandering. The snow would never thaw even in the summer. Even if they had managed to find the mountain, no matter how much digging they tried to do, they would still probably never find him. It wasn't worth the time or the effort.

Hord lay there in the snow. He wasn't expecting to be covered in it. He struggled, and he fought. He wasn't going down without a fight. He wasn't going to allow himself to be defeated. Hord had worked hard enough that he had managed to free his head from the snow. He sat resting and breathing in slowly. Some of the snow was stained red. The bear had hurt him.

Torak was gone, long gone by now, and the ringing in Hord's ears continued for some time. He never heard you approach. You had heard the avalanche and waited for it to cease before going to check for survivors. You lived alone, preferring to be alone rather than with your own clan. It was strange for someone to live alone, without a justifiable reason. However, your clan would always welcome you back home if you ever chose to return.

You walked slowly and carefully up the mountain, looking around, making sure no spot was left unchecked. It wasn't long before you saw some red. Hord had red hair, and he also wore clothes that had been dyed green.

You stepped closer, your hand touched your pouch. You wouldn't be surprised if whatever creature happened to be dead. His light blue eyes shifted to look at you.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked as you knelt, your hand slowly working at removing the snow from around his body.

Hord did not reply, and he slowly closed his eyes. You stopped digging and gently patted him on the face to keep him from falling asleep and possibly dying. You weren't sure how bad his injuries were, but you were going to keep him alive as long as you possibly could.

Hord said some things, and you looked at him with a blank expression. He mumbled some more and you raised an eyebrow. Hord rolled his eyes and slowly shook his head. You didn't understand what he was saying. The words he spoke were mumbled and unable to be distinguished - hearing loss. The avalanche had rendered him unable to hear… For how long? No one knew.

You had finished digging the snow out and your eyes slowly looked Hord over, checking to see just how bad his injuries were. He had a few broken bones, some injuries needing stitches, and a few minor scrapes. You grabbed his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. You wouldn't be able to carry Hord, but together the two of you would make a slow and painful journey down the mountain. Occasionally, you would stop to take a break. Hord didn't know how much longer he could go on. The pain medicine did absolutely nothing to stop his pain. You couldn't give him anymore for fear of it being too much and taking him out. He needed to be alive.

Finally, by sundown, the both of you had made it to your camp. It was dark, and you made your way carefully into your shelter. You laid Hord down and started up a fire. You closed the door to the shelter to keep the warmth in. Hord was a very lucky man. Lucky to be alive, lucky to have no major injuries, and lucky he had been found when he did.

You worked carefully at cutting away Hord's clothes, sticking to the seam so they could be sewn up again. It was pointless as his clothes had been stained with his blood, but it was the only clothes available. You worked slowly and carefully, setting Hord's bones, sewing him up, feeding, and watering him. He was once a pretty big man, however, his starvation had led him to being smaller than he had once been.

He wouldn't be leaving your shelter, not for a long time. His injuries were far too bad and he probably wouldn't make it far - if at all, if he left. He had no tools and was weakened. He had brought nothing but a knife and axe with him during his trip. He needed nothing else, but those had both been lost during the avalanche.

Hord shifted slightly and let out a groan. He was hurting again.

"Where am I?"

"You're in my shelter. I'm Y/N."

"Where's my clan?"

"You're in the mountains. There are no Raven's here. There was a Wolf boy who did come from the avalanche."

He gasped. Pain, but also shock. How could he have lived? Surely, he would have been injured to the extent Hord had…

"Where?" He breathed out, trying his hardest to speak through the pain.

"He walked out and headed south."

"I need… I need to go after him."

"You're not going anywhere." You said, watching as he struggled to even sit up.

He managed, but his breathing was heavy, and his bandages were soaked. He hit the ground as soon as he stood.

You sighed, rolled him over, and went to work fixing any of the injuries that may have opened again. He lay near the fire and you covered him with a blanket. He had no clothes and whether he was aware of that or not, you weren't sure. He was in no condition to be going anywhere. His clothes hung from the rafters of the shelter to dry out. You hadn't bothered to wash the blood from them. There was no point. They would be stained. Hord's temperature was still cold, but not nearly as bad as what he had when he first arrived.

He had woken up a little while later and you offered him some water. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have done it. You wouldn't have resorted to such measures. However, your hope was mainly to prevent him from being in any further pain. You also hoped he wouldn't run away while you slept. You had slipped something into his drink, something that was supposed to calm him down and help him to sleep better.

You walked over to your sleeping sack, got in, and went to sleep. When you had awoken, Hord had shifted closer to the door. He was tired, but he wasn't asleep. The medicine had not worked.

"How are you awake?" You asked.

He looked at you and his eyes narrowed. "Did you put something in my drink?" 

"Only to help you to sleep."

People with red hair sometimes needed more medicine than what was usually given for pain or to put people to sleep. You were soon realizing that as he grunted.

"Well, it didn't do much." 

"Do you need something?"

"Yeah, my body to quit hurting."

"Besides that."

You finished making some pain medicine for him, this batch slightly stronger than the last dose you had given him.

He sighed and winced as he sat up. 

"Yeah, I need to use the midden (bathroom)."

You handed him the bowl to drink from and some pain medicine. He took it and waited for your help. He was eating better than he had been since meeting you. However, he didn't eat much. He was still thin, and the pain was unbearable for him. You helped him up and to the midden.

It would be many moons (months) before he could even put a slight amount of weight on his leg. He could walk, but not far. He couldn't help with hunting, which saddened him, but he tried to keep his anger and tone in check.

Throughout many more moons, the both of you had slowly become closer and closer to one another. Hord's injuries had finally healed and occasionally they would hurt, but not nearly as bad as before.

Hord could have walked away and left you behind in the mountains. He could have gone home, but he didn't. He chose to stay. He had given up trying to go after Torak. There was no point, and he didn't want to return to his clan with a loss. He didn't want to return as a failure and return to a clan that didn't even care to come and look for his body. It was hard finding the mountain, but he didn't know that. Eventually, the both of you became a couple (mates). He chose to live wherever it is that you wanted to go and to live.

The mountains had never been a place he had lived in or visited before. It was new to him. He did take some time to learn the customs of the mountains and how to do things the way that you did.

You sat in the camp looking at the fire, occasionally poking at the fire to stop it from dying. Hord had returned to camp, empty-handed. He hadn't been out hunting. It was too late in the day and you both had already eaten. 

Hord sat down next to you and you laid your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you. The sun slipped beneath the horizon and the moon began to rise as the night came closer.

You stood up and walked into your shelter, and Hord followed after you. Hord closed the door to the shelter and placed his axe against the door. If it fell, you would both be alerted to the sound, and it also served as a door stopper.

You turned towards Hord in the faint light. His hair was nearly black, and his light blue eyes stared into yours. He placed a hand gently on your face.

"Y/N, do you want to mate (have sex)?"

"Yes, I do."

His lips met yours and your hands slipped beneath his jerkin (shirt). His hands worked at untying his belt and he dropped it somewhere in the shelter. It didn't matter where, he would worry about finding it in the morning.

You both took a moment to breathe and remove the remainder of each other's clothes. You laid down and Hord moved between your legs. Your hand reached out and slowly began to stroke him. His fingers worked to rub/stroke you. You bit your lip as Hord continued his actions, going faster and harder with each movement. You tried to move away as you felt a strange feeling. His hand grasped your hip, and you soon came. He followed along afterward. He grasped his length and slowly slid himself into you, his hands firmly grasping your hips.

"Are you ready?" He breathed out.

"Yes, I am," you said after a moment. 

It was the first time you and Hord had ever had sex. He didn't entirely know what he was doing, but he could only hope he was doing a good job.

He moved his hips back slowly, stopping before his tip left you. Then he slid himself in again. Then out. Then in. Starting slowly before picking up speed. His hands never left your hips. Your hand touched his chest and your other hand worked at rubbing/stroking yourself.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

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