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waldau · 27 days

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hand in mine — lee seokmin | 1,550 words | fluff

slightly inspired by my friend and their partner, i didn't know it was possible for two people to be so in love :') here's just...dk being sappy. sappy dk.

gender neutral reader. warnings: bonus pov?

dokyeom swears you're like a portable human charger.

when he's away, whether it's because he's still in practice or because he's on tour or even when he's at his parents' place, a single phone call from you is enough to lift his spirits to get him through the rest of the day. weekends spent at each other's places together are almost enough to convince him to just become an apartment hermit.

it's been true for ages — and it's true again, tonight.

or it will be, if you'll stop talking to one kim mingyu.

dokyeom's getting antsier the longer you stand there talking to mingyu, nodding along to something he's telling you. can't it wait till tomorrow? doesn't mingyu see he's in dire need of recharging?

now he knows mingyu's not telepathic, but somehow the younger man realizes dokyeom's staring at the two of you, so he finishes whatever he's saying with a nod towards where dokyeom's sitting. you follow his gaze and smile when you see dokyeom, who swears his heart melts a little, right there.

but then you stop to greet joshua, chatting with him for a minute (a whole minute, in this economy?) before you're standing right next to dokyeom.

he stretches his arms out to you. you bend down, letting him wrap himself around you the best he can. it's good, but it's not enough. he lets go only to tug at your hand. "sit down."

you look around. "there's no place, kyeomie. i don't mind standing."

he frowns at you. "i mind. you can sit in my lap."

you give him a look. "in front of your friends? i'd rather not."

dokyeom pouts. "they're your friends, too."

"of course i know that, baby. but they don't ever stop teasing us, do they?"

"ugh. they'll make fun of me, not you. please?"

you run a hand through his hair. "i don't want them to make fun of you, either."

he huffs. "fine. c'mere," he mumbles, scooting to give you some more space. you go willingly this time, settling yourself into the minimal space next to him. it's not easy when there's already thirteen of them in a room, but he manages to nudge chan away to give you some more space.

"hi," you whisper, letting him throw his hand around your shoulder to pull you closer. "missed you today."

dokyeom pulls back to look at you. he feels almost shy to have all your attention on him, silly as it sounds. "just today?" he asks, grinning when you roll your eyes. "you got here safely?"

you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. "perfectly. there was way lesser traffic than i expected."

"good."

you snuggle into dokyeom's side, stretching your legs out next to his. this is always his favourite place to be — because he can have your words be all for his ears only.

but then he frowns when he sees your outfit — a shirt and a pair of shorts. he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your legs despite your protests.

"you should've worn something warmer," he frowns. you're never good with the cold, and you're not going to be comfortable with the way more than half the members need the air conditioning to be switched on at all times.

"i was almost ready to go to bed, kyeomie," you explain, adjusting the jacket on yourself nonetheless. "i wouldn't be here if shua didn't call me. thank you, though. how was your day?"

dokyeom sighs. he doesn't want to talk about his day when he's been living through it for the entirety of...well, the day, but he has to say something for you. "not...the best," he concedes, resting his head on your shoulder.

"do you want to go home soon?" you ask, your hand finding his, tracing random patterns on his skin. the tingles help ground him.

he shrugs. "i don't know."

it's true, as much as he hates it. he doesn't want to leave because it'll end up breaking up the party — it always so happens that the first person to leave is the catalyst for most others to start wrapping things up, unwittingly. he doesn't want to be a party pooper, but at the same time, he's had a long day. it's like he's been aware of every single second he's been awake, and it's exhausting.

"okay," you say simply. "let's stay for a while more. it's not like we're in a rush. and i know how hard you worked today."

dokyeom closes his eyes at that. he knows he's done well, today being one of those days where he's genuinely looking for the end, but hearing it from you makes it much better. "yeah?"

"yeah," you affirm, hand rising to comb gently through his hair again, left open now that he's discarded his beanie. "i love you, kyeom. so much. it's still hard to put it into words sometimes."

he snuggles a bit more into you at that, slightly satisfied when seungkwan chucks a piece of popcorn at him from the bed, telling you both to stop being so cheesy. he feels even better when you throw it back at seungkwan, letting out a triumphant ha! when it hits him on the knee.

he loves you.

there's no bottom to that endless truth. he's somewhat loved you ever since he first saw you, drawn to the way your sense of humour was so close to his, and the somewhat turned into a definitely the more he got to know you.

dokyeom isn't half of anything — he's all of himself, lee seokmin, content with the way he is except for a few gripes here and there, but you complete him in a way he didn't know any person could.

he's not worried about you leaving him — there's no way either of you are letting that happen. it's more about not knowing who he is without you, now that your lives are so intertwined.

"stop," you mumble, your grip on his hair tightening slightly.

"stop what?"

"thinking. about whatever you are. i told you i love you and i'm not going anywhere."

the haze he's in almost clears a bit at that. "how did you— i didn't—"

"you always get so pensive when you're tired, did you know? i should record you some time. it's like there's a philosopher hidden inside you."

pensive? when he's tired?

"i love you normally," he blurts out, scared at the insinuation that he thinks about how much you mean to him only when he's vulnerable like this.

you're not saying anything back, though. you're just smiling at him.

"what," he asks, breaths a bit shallow.

"i know," you press, hand lifting his to show the ring that sits on his fourth finger. "i love you normally, too."

dokyeom lets out a chuckle. he still can't believe it's possible to love someone this much.

"now let me get you home and help you get some sleep, okay?" you ask, punctuating your question with a tug to his chin. "the others will understand."

as if you have to ask him. he'll go wherever you take him, no questions asked.

joshua can see the change in dokyeom's eyes the moment you walk into the room.

the conversation doesn't stop; mingyu and jun are still arguing about how mingyu should stop taking inspiration from jeonghan when it comes to board games and cheating. jeonghan has a proud smile on his face. wonwoo and minghao have zoned out entirely, too busy with their phones to acknowledge the little fight going on. the others are busy eating or ordering more food or arguing about which movie to watch next.

there's just one person missing from the chaos.

dokyeom's sitting on the floor under the window, entirely in his own world, constantly checking his phone and looking at the door, shutting his eyes for a minute before repeating his actions.

joshua would've poked fun at him if he didn't know how tired dokyeom already was today. a particularly tiring day, especially with a comeback practice they'd just gotten back from, and a going seventeen shoot in which dokyeom had been on the losing team. even though he doesn't like to show it, joshua knows dokyeom is somewhat upset over not winning.

but the moment you walk into the room, it's like a switch has been flipped. dokyeom sits up straighter, the neutral expression on his face morphing into a tired but real smile. he holds his hands out to you and pouts when you stop to greet all the other members first, shaking hands with them or giving them a quick side hug.

joshua pulls you close with ease. "thanks for making it here on such short notice."

"are you seriously thanking me for that?"

"i mean...he really needs to see you. today hasn't been his day."

you look over at your husband for a moment. "i could tell. his texts were pretty dry."

"right? now go get your lover boy. he's been moping all evening long."

you wrinkle your nose at the term, just like he expected you to, but you nod and make your way to dokyeom.

joshua turns away when dokyeom gives you a dopey, lovesick grin. he'll let the teasing go for tonight.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae

#kinda eh about this but i love dk so much #lee seokmin #lee seokmin fluff #dk #dk fluff #dokyeom #dokyeom fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #waldau writes

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scribbledghost · 6 months

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Midnight Musings

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (gender neutral, no Y/N)

Rating: T

Word count: 1,364

Warnings: Simon's thoughts about himself should probably be a warning in and of itself tbh

Note: This is. Kinda dark? But I'm very attached to the idea of Simon being completely obsessed with his lover and feeling kinda bad about it. So have some rambling thought exploration/character study.

It is a cold, rainy evening when Simon Riley comes to terms with the ugliest part of himself; four cigarettes and three glasses of bourbon deep into his own pity party. He listens to the rain beat on the window pane, carefully pondering his reflection. And just like most other times when he is left to his own devices, his thoughts wander to you as you sleep in your shared bedroom down the hall.

You. The whole catalyst for all this. The whole reason for his evening binge.

Well, perhaps not the whole reason. He still holds blame for a good portion of it. Or maybe he holds blame for all of it. His brain is mildly hazy by this point.

You. You, who is always so good to him. You, who never pushes him further than he wants to bend, but pushes him nonetheless. You, who makes him a better person, a better man, a better human.

You, who deserves so much more than some broken, fucked up soldier.

And him, in his infinite selfishness, who refuses to let you go.

He could. He could break things off, could return to the shadows, could force you to forget him and move on and find someone better.

He stares coldly at his reflection some more.

He could. He should. But he won't.

Worthless bastard, he thinks to himself. No better than your father.

Rationally, he knows that's not true. Not entirely, anyway. He knows you'd rip him a new one if you heard him say as much. He's never laid a hand on you in malice, never come home stumbling drunk and looking for a fight. He's never terrorized you and taken perverse glee in your fear.

But he's held you down. Held you back. Kept you from finding something - someone - better.

And he can't stop himself.

Furthermore, he doesn't even know if he wants to stop himself. He knows he should have the desire to. But again, just as every time before it, his moth flutters to your flame.

The peace you bring him is addictive. He hones in on it and seeks it out more than he does a smoke after a rough op. Just today he had spent most of his evening laid atop you on the couch as you cradled his head to your chest. He'd dozed off several times as you'd lightly scratched at his scalp, the feeling of your hands and the sound of your gentle heartbeat lulling him back to a reality away from the violence and death of the battlefield.

You never ask him much about where the task force calls him to, or what it bids him to do when he's away. Most of your inquiries consist of whether or not he's injured (usually), if the team had been successful (depends on your definition), and if he needs a warm meal or a shower (always).

He should be in bed with you right now. He should have your back pulled close to his chest with a thick arm wrapped around your middle, resting peacefully in the notion that he was home and you were safe.

Then again, the status of your safety is what set him down this line of thinking to begin with. It's the impetus for the ugliness he's trying so desperately to overcome.

The deep, dark, disgusting part of him that needs to protect you to an unhealthy degree.

The part of him that sometimes wants to simply keep you in a cage, a beautiful songbird just for him and only for him. The part of him that wants to hide you away from the world, away from the horrors that exist and follow him across the globe.

The part of him that would commit unspeakable atrocities in your name if your safety and happiness hung in the balance. You could snap your fingers and Simon would burn the world down for you.

And that terrifies him.

The affection he has for you tilts and sways dangerously into obsession, and despite the fact that he feels like it's less than healthy, he can't bring himself to change. He can only bring himself to care.

Simon does not dwell on the fact that he loves you to a borderline dangerous degree. "Love" is not a word that really features in his vocabulary, anyway. It seems trite to him. Overused. Diluted.

Perhaps "devotion" would be a better term. A blinding worship that he would not know how to extract himself from even if he wanted to.

He wonders, not for the first time, if this only adds to the multitude of reasons you would be better off without him. He does his best to keep his darker desires under several locks and keys, does his best to give you every ounce of freedom and independence you need and deserve. But a gnawing pit in his stomach sends the sour taste of alcohol and anxiety clawing up his throat.

Simon Riley is not a good man, he realizes, despite how he has fooled you to think otherwise.

How long until his self-control stumbles and he lashes out at someone you care about for some imagined slight? Will time pass quietly only for him to one day realize he has isolated you without intending to?

Would you even tell him he was overstepping to begin with? Or would his manipulations be so subtle that not even he could see them happening?

He doesn't know the answer to any of these questions, and the notion makes him nauseous.

You are the first truly good thing in his life since the loss of his family, and he knows he has latched onto you with an iron grip because of it. It is because he is so afraid to lose you, so afraid that you will suffer because of who he is, that he can see himself fulfilling his prophecy despite the vicious fight he puts up against it.

He wonders what you would tell him if he divulged any of this to you. Something tells him you would reassure him that he is not a monster, that wanting your loved ones safe and happy is not a crime. He is sure you would say that you know he would never clip your wings and cage you, that you'd tell him if he started becoming overbearing. You have in the past, after all.

And yet, despite your gentle voice of reason ebbing into his mind, Simon still can't bring himself to believe a word of it.

Perhaps it's because of the loathing he holds for himself.

Or perhaps it's because he knows himself. At least, he thinks he does.

He's toxic. A radioactive material that is at risk of contaminating you every time you interact with it.

And yet, he cannot bring himself to leave you.

His desire to protect you, to serve you, to be anything you need him to be, completely overrides any sense of rationality he holds when it comes to you.

He sighs, stamping his cigarette out in the ashtray before downing the rest of his drink. The rain still pours beyond the window, and a chill has seeped into the air.

He has left you to sleep alone for too long.

Simon creeps through the house, turning off lights and triple checking door and window locks as he moves. He comes upon your bedroom in practiced fashion, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple as you sleep. A soft sound leaves you, and you adjust slightly beneath the covers before your breathing evens out once again.

He changes quickly into a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants before climbing into bed behind you. As if on cue, you shift backwards towards him, and he meets you halfway as he puts an arm around you and pulls you back to his chest.

He presses a soft kiss to the back of your head before resting his forehead in the same place.

Part of him knows he is a monster.

And yet, part of him wonders that if someone like you loves him, then maybe he's not as much of one as he thinks.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

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joshsindigostreak · 5 months

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Blue Christmas 💙🎄

Authors notes: Hi y’all!! This spawned from a dream I had the other morning and I couldn’t get it out of my head. My first official Rom-Com, and friends to lovers! Shout out to @gretasmokerising and @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine to hearing me out with this idea and yelling at me to write it! Enjoy!

Word Count: 6813

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, and SMUT at the end! MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap y’all’s willies), alcohol use, agonizing mutual pining? I think that’s it.

It had been 4 weeks, 2 days, and 7 hours since Josh Kiszka had last spoken to you. The most he had ignored you since the day you met over 2 years ago. His cubicle was stationed next to yours, and you could always look to your right to see him typing away at his computer, eyes trained at the screen and never once glancing over at you. He would arrive in the mornings silently, and clock out at 5 without a word. But it was the lunch hours that hurt the most. Ever since you had started this job, he was always your lunch buddy. He showed you where all the good vending machines were, and how to get down to the courtyard on the bottom floor where most of the office population ate their lunches. You hadn’t seen him down in that courtyard since…the incident…and you sat at your usual table most days hoping you’d see him come through the double doors, lunch in hand and a smile on his face. But in the weeks since, he had either eaten elsewhere or stayed in his cubicle working. A few times you tried to stay behind as well, hoping the silence from being the ones in your general vicinity on your floor would coax him into conversation, but it didn’t work.

But what was this “incident”? What was the catalyst to make him so cold to you all of a sudden? As you twirled your mouse over your screen pretending to be busy, your thoughts drifted back to the day everything changed.

Josh had a usual lunch table. It was in the courtyard, but in the back corner where he could have the best privacy. This back section used to be the smoking section before smoking was banned per company policy, but they left all of the plants and hedges in place that separated it from the rest of the courtyard. His lunch hour was sacred. It was the part of his day that he could be by himself and not have to talk to anyone if he didn’t want to. Not a lot of people sat back there, which was another blessing. But he didn’t mind sharing it with you. He jumped at the chance to show it to you on your first day. You made a comment about how it was very “Rainforest Cafe” that endeared you to him even more. Ever since, it has been the two of you back there, hidden amongst the hedges.

That day wasn’t much different from any other, a run-of-the-mill Tuesday in the middle of November. For that time of the year, it was unusually warm, so you felt that it was imperative to take advantage of it and sit outside when you still could. You made your way down to your table, walking past various coworkers chattering away. You could smell the Caesar salad through the container in your hand and you couldn’t wait to dive into it. Finally you made it to your table in the back corner, with your lunch buddy sitting with his back to you as he typed away at his laptop. He was a true workaholic, but his efforts never went unnoticed. Your immediate boss, Ted, always gave shout outs to Josh in meetings, and you would be lying if you said the way Josh’s face would tinge pink every time didn’t melt your heart. He was absolutely terrible at taking compliments. He was deserving of all the praise, hell he deserved a promotion at this point with how much he led the team, but he would get so bashful whenever someone would tell him so. Sometimes…you would compliment him on purpose just to see the color rise in his cheeks, and if you were lucky, a glimpse of the dimple on his left side.

You slid onto the bench that was bolted to the table, a fixture that hadn’t been updated since the nineties, you were sure. Normally you sat across from him, but today you just had the itch to be in his personal space.

“Whatcha working on?” You asked as you popped open the container for your salad.

“I am working on…a PowerPoint…,” he quipped, giving you a playful sideways glance.

You nodded, letting him type and fill up the current slide as you dumped your salad dressing into the container and mixed it with the greens and grilled chicken. After a few minutes of silence, you leaned over to him, brushing your shoulder against his, “you need a cool transition. No PowerPoint is complete without a cool transition.”

At this he stopped typing and turned his face towards yours, seemingly unbothered with how close you were to him, “I can just see the look on Ted’s face when he hears the ‘whoosh’ between slides about projected first quarter profit margins.”

“That man needs a good laugh. Or to get laid. Maybe both,” you nudged his shoulder before going back to your lunch.

“Don’t we all…,” Josh mumbled to himself. You almost asked him what he meant but he was quickly back at it, filling out bullet points and inserting graphs on the side. It wasn’t unusual to see him this engrossed in his work, but frankly, you were bored. This was the one hour you could truly hang out with him and not have to talk shop. Your friend needed to relax, and not let his work become his life. He always told you that the more he got done during the day meant the less he had to do when he got home, but you knew that was a lie. He always came in the next day with more work than when he left, and sometimes you wondered if that laptop bag of his was surgically attached to his shoulder.

Your salad was long gone and Josh was still typing away, clicking back and forth from his data and his project. Knowing what would get his attention, you innocently poked at his side, and held back a laugh when he flinched and smiled. This spurred you on, and you poked his arm now, forcing him to make a typo. He was trying so hard to not give in, to not give you the satisfaction that he was amused, but he was failing.

You upped your ante by reaching for his ear. Gently, you ran your fingertip down the shell of his ear, feeling every curve and contour before brushing the skin next to his earlobe. This caused Josh to visibly shudder, and he tried to cover it up by suddenly jerking his head to the side to pretend to bite your finger. You erupted in giggles before you were aware of how close his face was to your hand. Before you could stop yourself, you extended your fingers to lightly cup his jaw. Instead of backing away, he leaned into your touch, a move that neither of you were expecting. His fingers stilled on the keyboard, and slowly backed away and into his lap he turned his body to face yours.

The logical side of you wanted to just laugh and lean back onto your end of the bench as if nothing happened, but the other side of you, the side that needed him, was telling that first side to shut the fuck up. Letting the intrusive thoughts win, you leaned closer to him, and you hitched a breath when you saw him do the same. There was no space between the two of you, your right thigh was firmly against his left, heat radiating through both of your respective slacks.

Before either of you could think about it too much, Josh closed the gap between you and slotted his lips onto yours, lazily taking your bottom lip into his mouth. The action caused you to moan against him, and you seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss. The professional side of you was screeching in your head that you were literally at work and in a courtyard full of people, but the rest of you argued back that no one could see you given how tall the hedges were.

One of Josh’s hands slid up to your face, mirroring what you were doing to him, and his other hand snaked around your waist, desperate to have you closer. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, and he opened up for you instantly. For several moments, you made out like teenagers on that bench.

You weren’t close enough to him, and before you could protest he lifted you up and over his lap, allowing you to straddle him. He was thanking God that the greenery was so overgrown that you couldn’t be seen in the position you were in.

As you settled down onto his lap, the rigid outline of his cock pressed up against you, and you instinctively grinded down on him. He bit your bottom lip to keep himself from moaning too loud, but it was futile as that only caused you to let out a breathy moan of your own.

He was kissing you like he was starving, and you couldn’t get over just how good he felt. You always stole glances at his lips, noting how perfect his cupid's bow was and they were the most enviable shade of pink.

But just as you lowered yourself back down to grind on him even more, a very loud and obnoxious cackle was let out across the courtyard. Of course it was Vera’s obnoxious ass laughing at whatever the fuck. This caused Josh to break away from you, sobering him up to the situation. He was suddenly very aware of you straddling him, with bruised lips and tousled hair. He couldn’t…he couldn’t be here much longer or else he wouldn’t be able to stop. Without any preamble he guided you off his lap and slid out the other side of the bench and adjusted his belt buckle and smoothed down his shirt. He didn’t even glance at you when he shut his laptop and turned to leave, quickly mumbling about needing to run to the bank before his lunch hour was up. It was a clear lie, but he didn’t give you a chance to call him out on it before nearly running out of that courtyard, leaving you dazed and…very wet…on that bench.

You leaned back in your office chair and rolled your eyes at the memory, not because you didn’t love it, or that it didn’t replay in your head every time you saw the man, but because you were afraid it completely fucked up your friendship with Josh. Before you on your screen was a reminder email about the company Christmas Party that was being held this weekend. You wanted to go, but the thought of mingling with coworkers while Josh continued to ignore you made you want to crawl under your desk and never come out. Because of his outstanding job performance, he was put on the planning committee and thus would have to be there. There was no avoiding him.

With a resigned sigh you glanced over at his desk, hoping to see him, but finding it Josh-less. Instead you heard his voice chattering away at another desk, leaning against the entrance to a nearby cubicle. To everyone else, he was his normal talkative self, but for you, he was silent and cold. What the actual fuck was his problem? The more you thought about it, the more it pissed you off. Just who does he think he is by kissing you like that, touching you like that, fulfilling the fantasies you’ve had in your head for months, only to throw you away essentially and leave you high but not very dry? Fuck him, but not in the literal sense. He didn’t deserve that. A plan was forming in your head. You were going to show up to that party pushing every button you knew how to push with him. After working for him for nearly two years, you knew what made that man tick. You had picked up on several preferences of his via passing comments, jokes, or flat out remarks.

And you were going to exploit every single one of them.

When the day of the party arrived, you looked over at your outfit laid out on your bed. A beautiful long sleeved navy blue velvet dress. Why blue? Well that color had become an inside joke between the two of you, stemming from an exchange on your very first day in the office.

You were settling into your new cubicle, arranging your things and figuring out just where you wanted everything to go. The size of your desk surprised you, as you were expecting a smaller space given you were a new hire, but the expanse of the desk gave you so much more room to work with. It was a blessing as you tended to spread out your paperwork around you throughout your day, a habit that your old boss noted every time she walked by your desk.

As you reached into your box full of things you brought from home, your hand settled on the third Funko Pop you had picked out of your collection. Your Funko of Daphne from Scooby Doo had been one of the first you had bought when you started your collection, and she meant a lot to you.

“You take them out of the box?” An unfamiliar yet pleasant voice interrupted your thoughts and you nearly dropped the box you were holding from being startled.

Snapping your head up at the source, you were greeted by a rather…gorgeous man with curious big brown eyes. You had briefly seen him when your new boss was giving you a tour of the area you would be working in, and he had been getting something out of the supply closet.

“Sorry?”

“Your Funkos…you take them out of the box?”

Realizing what he was referring to, you chuckled slightly in embarrassment, “oh don’t start, my brother already gives me enough shit about ‘ruining their value’ whenever he comes over and sees my collection. They just look so sad sitting in them. They need to be free!”

This caused the stranger to smile as he extended his hand for you to shake, “I’m Josh, your new neighbor across the way.” He dramatically threw a glance over his shoulder at his own cubicle across from yours. You gladly shook his hand and told him your own name, which he repeated softly.

You continued to pull more items out of your box as he stood there, not minding you had company. In the panic to get what you needed for your new job, you had inadvertently brought mostly blue office supplies. Blue post-its, blue binders, blue pens; it was as if your brain found one color it liked in the store and made you match everything to calm your nerves.

“Your sweater matches your binders…,” Josh observed.

This was your second time you looked up at him in embarrassment, “Oh! Yeah…purely unintentional. It’s my nicest one and I wanted to make a good-”

“It looks nice on you, that shade of blue,” he interrupted.

Before you could stop yourself, you started rattling off a quote from one of your favorite films, “Oh this sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise, it's not lapis, it's-"

"...actually cerulean?"

The smile that spread across your face could light up the entire room, it wasn’t a niche reference, but you were so glad he picked up on it and you didn’t embarrass yourself a third time. After that, your friendship with Josh quickly blossomed, and the ‘blue’ joke got to a point where Josh was calling you Blue to your face, a nickname that stuck no matter how many times you told him to stop.

Six months into your stay at your current job, you walked into work thinking nothing of the date, but when you got to your desk you saw a familiar small white box with a blue bow taped to the top. You dropped your bag onto your desk and picked it up. Turning it over in your hands you saw that it was a Miranda Priestly Funko, and while you instantly understood who gave it to you, you were confused at the occasion.

“Happy Six Months, Blue,” Josh said warmly behind you, startling you.

“Six months?”

“Since you started here! I saw it online and you’ve worked really hard these last six months so I just thought…you needed a token of appreciation.” He leaned towards you and whispered, “since you and I both know corporate doesn’t keep up with such things.”

You smiled up at him, warmed by the gesture, “thanks Josh…”

After a few seconds of awkwardly standing there, Josh piped up, “go on…free her from her plastic prison. She’s running out of air and it's getting dark! I’m frightened for her.” Giggles escaped your mouth as you ripped open the box and freed your new Funko. She was put next to your Daphne, as they both held strong sentimental value now.

You shook your head from the memories, needing to focus on the task at hand. Slipping on the dress and securing your heels, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror before you left for the party. Your hair was perfect, your eyelids dusted with a champagne-colored shimmer, and your lips were adorned with a neutral matte red. There was no way he could ignore you with the way you looked.

Or so you thought.

After nearly an hour of mingling, your “friend” had yet to even walk passed you. In fact it was pretty obvious he was avoiding you. He was only on the stupid decorating committee but you’d think he was the host of the entire party with the way he was flitting about the employees, giving them warm greetings and thanking them for coming. You didn’t want to follow him around like a lost puppy, but you kept deliberately putting yourself in his line of vision and he acted like you weren’t there. What the fuck?

At this point, you were standing with a bunch of your coworkers on your floor, trying to not make it obvious you were glaring at Josh while slowly sipping your cocktail. By the grace of God, one of the men from your floor walked over with Josh in tow, firmly planting him in the little group that had gathered. He still avoided your gaze, keeping his eyes on Brad who clapped him on the shoulder and praised him for a project he had recently finished and was going to present next week.

Your friend Stacy waved her hand at them, “oh come on no work talk tonight, we get enough of that during the day.”

“I know, I know but Josh ran his ideas by me the other week and was telling me how it all came together at the end, I’m happy for him,” Brad defended.

What? Josh never ran ideas with anyone else but you. You were always his first choice whenever he had something cooking in his head. Hell, you didn’t even know he had a big project lined up. But there he was, cheeks flushing at the praise. Under any other circumstances, your heart would stutter at the sight, adoring how bashful he could be, but right now? Right now it pissed you off, and you were on your second cocktail of the night. Your filter was nonexistent.

“You told Brad about your new project?” You blurted out, slightly slurring your speech.

At last, Josh finally addressed you, “yes? I wanted to run some numbers by him just to double che-”

“But you always run your ideas by me?” Unfortunately, the alcohol also made it impossible for you to hide the hurt in your voice. “You always ask to pick my brain on things.”

You took a step forward, “yes you do, and I always run my ideas by you in return. They always note how well we work together in meetings.” The rest of your coworkers stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do as you verbally sparred. You didn’t care, you stared at Josh barely blinking. His jaw was clenched, lips set in a line. But you couldn’t stop the words tumbling from your mouth, “you don’t even like Brad! You told me his projections were always off and he talks too much during meetings which is rich coming from-”

At this, Josh handed his drink off to the closest person and quickly grabbed your hand to pull you away from the group. He guided you through the crowd, and you dropped off your empty glass on a random table, not caring where it was. The only thing you could focus on was the warmth from his hand, and how he effortlessly laced your fingers together as he walked. This was the first time he had even touched you since that lunchtime makeout session.

He swung the outside door open, leading you out onto the side deck of the venue. No one else was out here due to the cold, and the cold wind sobered you up a little. You stood next to the deck rail, glaring at him.

“What the fuck, Josh?!”

“What the fuck Josh? How about what the fuck, Blue?!” He’s giving you the hardest look he’s ever given you, his eyes a darker shade of brown you weren’t used to seeing, and no cheek dimple in sight. He continued, “I am preventing you from getting fired for running your mouth in front of everyone.”

You sneer, “since when do you care what my mouth does?”

He clenches his jaw again, and he swallows hard enough to see his Adam's apple bob beneath the gorgeous white turtleneck he was wearing. “You know what, I think you need to just stay out here for the rest of the night, and lay off the eggnog.”

He started to walk off but you grabbed his arm before he could leave, “no, you don’t get to do this again. You have ignored me for nearly a month now.” You lowered your voice even though it was only the two of you outside, “we never even talked…about it…was I that bad?”

He spins to face you, and backs you up against the deck rail, placing both hands on either side of you, bracketing yourself between his arms. He stares at you for a few more seconds, before declaring in a gruff voice, “you were absolutely incredible, and that's the problem.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, and he continued, “I have done nothing but think of you since that day, hell I thought about you every single day before that. Ever since you walked into that office, in that fucking blue sweater, your perfectly coordinated desk supplies, your intelligence, the way you always have a comeback for everything…Blue, I could not get you out of my head even if I tried. But that day? When I finally got to taste you? Have you in my arms? It ruined me. Ruined me for everyone else. The mere thought of even talking to you afterwards sent all my blood south and I can’t walk around the office with a fucking boner, can I?” You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off again, “and you show up here tonight, looking like this, knowing how much I love you in blue…you wicked little thing.”

Just then, the door to the outside was swung open by someone that worked on a different floor, and you guessed they got the hint because they quickly went back inside. But as the door closed behind them, the two of you could hear Blue Christmas by Elvis being played loudly through the speakers inside. How appropriate.

All of your worst case scenarios that had haunted your mind the last few weeks weren’t even true at all. Josh’s words had your heart hammering in your chest, and having him this close to you after a month-long cut off had you aching. His breath was hot as it fanned over your face, the rich chocolate of his irises that matched his brown suit were smoldering before you. Reaching up, you gently cupped his jaw the same way you did weeks ago on that bench, and just like before he leaned into your hand his eyes fluttered shut.

“Blue…,” he whispered against your palm.

“I missed you so fucking much. I don’t think you understand how empty I felt without you talking to me every day. Not hearing your daily complaints, not making me laugh, no eye contact during meetings when they got boring? I sat downstairs every single day, at our usual table, hoping to see you, but you never showed. I felt like I did something horribly wrong and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me otherwise,” he shook his head against your hand, “You just shut me out with no explanation.”

“No..no I’m sorry for that…it was stupid, and cruel of me. I just didn’t know what to do. Every time I tried to talk myself into talking to you, it resulted in me thinking of scenarios that would’ve had us end up with multiple HR violations, and I just couldn’t do it.” He rested his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed.

“Well, Kiszka, what are you going to do about it now?”

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he finally opened his eyes to look over your shoulder at the sprawling grounds of the country club.

“What if I told you, that when we were looking for venues, I noticed that this particular one has an entire property just for a garden, that's currently out of season, and that there’s a greenhouse off to the side that they keep some of the plants indoors over the winter?”

You were tempted to look over your shoulder to see what he was looking at, but you didn’t want your eyes to leave his face.

“Are you suggesting…?”

“I’m saying that I need to finish what I started four weeks ago.”

Before you could respond he took your hand and led you down the steps of the deck and out onto the frost-covered lawn. The entrance to the garden wasn’t very far, but it was nestled in a brick fence. Once inside and out of sight, you got a glimpse at your surroundings. The garden was definitely winterized and dormant, but the hedges were evergreen and tall, successfully blocking anyone who might peer over to that side of the property from the main building. His fingers were still laced with yours as he took a sharp left and down a narrow path. As you traveled deeper into the garden, the party noise slowly fizzled out, and by the time you got to the greenhouse in question, you could barely hear anything other than the wind rustling branches.

“It’s probably locked…,” you suggested, trying not to sound disappointed.

Josh briefly panicked, not quite thinking about that when he came up with this plan, but he quickly reached up to feel the top of the door frame. When his fingertips landed on cold metal, he nearly said a prayer out loud in gratitude. He held the key up to you, before spinning back around and trying it in the lock. As fate would have it, the lock clicked and the handle turned easily, granting you access.

Inside, there were a few space heaters already running to keep the chilly night air outside. The temperature difference as you stepped inside was stark, and you shut the door behind you to keep any more winter air from coming in. One of the tables in the middle of the room had been cleaned off recently, with no pots or excess dirt littering the surface. When he was satisfied in his choice for this tryst, he turned around to face you again and backed you up into the door, colliding his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him even closer. His hands flexed and kneaded your hips through the velvet fabric of your dress; his fingertips slowly bunching the material higher and higher until they met the skin underneath. He ran his hands along your skin, stopping abruptly when he felt the lacy material of your thong. He mapped out the lace blindly, tracing the woven pattern while pulling away from your lips to pant harshly against your face.

“You were really walking around that party wearing these?”

“...you should see my bra…”

The only light in the greenhouse was from the waxing gibbous moon in the sky, streaming its moonbeams through the glass windows. But even with the limited light, you could see Josh’s eyes darken even more at your words. He couldn’t take it anymore, and reached down to firmly grip the back of your thighs and lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist and he backed up and carefully set you back down on the cleared off table. His lips moved to your neck now, sucking bruises onto your skin, not giving a shit about the marks he left behind. You were his, goddamnit. Now that you were on the surface of the table, he reached back under your dress to tug your thong down your legs. He backed up just enough to slip it off your ankles and past your heels, but he didn’t let it fall to the floor, he looped it around his fingers to hold in front of his face to get a better look at it in the moonlight. It was fucking…blue. You wore dark blue lingerie tonight? Your mission to torture him was succeeding, and another growl grumbled in his chest. Your words from earlier echoed in his head, and after shoving your thong in his pocket, he quickly started tugging your dress off of you. Lifting your dress over your head, his eyes raked down your body. The height of the table gave him a perfect, eye level view of your breasts. The lace that perfectly cupped your flesh matched the thong in his pocket, and he had to lean against his hands on the edge of the table to compose himself. The wood dug into his skin a thought occurred to him, and he immediately ripped his jacket off and swung it around, laying it down behind you, so you wouldn’t have to feel the cold table against your skin. He looked up at you, silently asking permission and when you nodded his hands landed on your breasts, squeezing them through the lace.

Josh stood before you, wearing absolutely too much in his white turtleneck and slacks. It was incredibly unfair, and you needed to fix that. In your tangle of limbs you clawed at the back of his shirt to pull it off of him. He got the hint and flung it over his head, letting it land on top of your dress beside you. Now it was your turn to gawk at him. This was the most you had ever seen of Josh at this point, and the sight of his perfectly unmarred skin in the moonlight had you drooling. Your hands itched to squeeze his shoulders and dig your nails into his skin. In a flurry, your bra quickly came off, nipples hardening in the chilly air. His mouth immediately closed around one of them, causing you to throw your head back and a reedy sigh escaped your lips.

As much as you loved the attention he was giving you, you needed more. You needed him. Now.

“Josh…please…,” you whined.

He nodded and moaned against your chest, before popping off and returning to your mouth. As his lips devoured yours he reached down to undo his belt and slacks, the metal clanking against the side of the table. He pushed his pants down to his knees and brought one hand to his cock, squeezing it and giving himself a few pumps. You pulled away from his mouth just enough to look down at it, and a shiver of anticipation ran through you. Reaching down, you pushed his hand away and wrapped your fingers around him.

“Fuck, baby…” rattled out of his mouth. Spurred on, you started to pump him yourself, let your thumb catch the drop of precum resting at the tip, smearing it around the head. His hand shook as he closed it around yours, stopping your movements. “Keep doing that and this will be over embarrassingly fast.” You giggled and moved your arms to rest on his shoulders, giving him a minute to compose himself.

Finally, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. He took his cock in his hand once again, dragging it up and down through your slit. You were so fucking wet. He looked at you again, silently asking-

“Josh you don’t do something I’m going to be the one leaving this time and never forgiving you.”

With that he surged forward, filling you in one fluid motion, causing the both of you to moan into each other's mouths. Your hearts hammering in your chests. He didn’t waste no time before he reared back and filled you again, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he bottomed out. As much as he wanted to, there wasn’t time to take this slow, and frankly after the last month there was too much tension built up between you to even fathom another pace. He leaned you back down onto his jacket, the satin lining felt cool and soft against your skin, and he hovered over you as best he could given the height of the table.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist, locking your ankles right above his ass. As you promised yourself earlier, your nails dug into the soft flesh of his shoulders, and he hissed in your ear in response. Slowly you dragged your fingertips down his back as he pumped into you, the angle making his pelvis grind against your clit exactly the way you needed it.

It was becoming apparent that the table wasn’t built for strenuous activities, and it started to creek and shift underneath you. Josh didn’t pay it any mind, he was too focused on peppering kisses all along your face and neck, not wanting to leave your skin for a second. He couldn’t get enough of you, and the fact that he was finally having you, was sinking in. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that first time he saw you while you took your tour around the office while he was at the supply closet? It had to be as close as one could get. He nearly dropped an entire stack of printer paper when you walked by and your perfume invaded his senses, causing him to look up to see where it was coming from. The sheer luck that you got assigned to the cubicle next to his, and how he pretended to be busy while you started sorting your things. He observed you for several minutes before making his presence known, in the least creepy way possible. You were just…adorable…in how you were organizing your desk, and how you muttered to yourself as you picked things out of the box.

The crush he developed that day was strong from the beginning, and now? Now he had you completely. His skin was slapping against yours. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging at the roots. Your thighs were squeezing his hips as he hiked one of them higher on his side, allowing him to bury himself deeper inside you.

“You’re so fucking perfect…god, Blue…fuck…,” he rambled against your mouth, unable to hold back his words.

You whimpered up at him, “you feel so good.”

“Yeah? Who's making you feel this good?” He lifted his head just enough to look you in the eyes.

“...you…”

Not satisfied with your answer, he reared back and slammed back into you, harder than before, “no, who is making you feel this good?”

Oh, you knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him this easily. Instead you just stroked his cheeks with your thumbs, smiling up at him.

You wanted to be a brat, he thought, two could play at that game. He instantly pulled out of you, fighting every instinct in his body to stay inside. You whimpered at the sudden loss, your brows furrowing.

“I’m going to ask you again…”

For a split second you hated him. You had been so fucking close, and he literally ripped it away from you. Too desperate to keep playing you nearly shouted, “JOSH, you, Josh…you’re making me feel this good…”

A smirk appeared on his face before he slammed back into you, “mmm…good girl.”

This side of Josh was surprising you, but you loved it. You had never really taken him for a dominating type, but you couldn’t wait to see more of it in the future. But before you could think about that, your high came hurtling back to you. He reached between you, going straight for your clit and started swirling his fingers around it. You were so wet that his fingertips glided easily in figure-8 motions against the hard nub, causing you to writhe beneath him. His name tumbled from your lips repeatedly as you felt yourself climbing higher and higher. The combination of his fingers and the ridges of his cock dragging against your walls was too much, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. With a shout, you shook underneath him as you came. He continued to pump into you, chasing his own high and prolonging yours with his nimble fingers. You were squeezing him so hard as you rode out your high, and he only had about three thrusts left in him before he emptied himself inside you. His vision nearly went white as he came, and your actual first name shuddered from his mouth.

Neither of you moved for several moments, but the feeling of his release slowly leaking out and around his cock was undeniable. You started to panic at how you were going to clean up, until Josh reached next to your shoulder where the inside pocket of his jacket was. Silently he fished out a white handkerchief. You caught a glimpse of the initials, JMK, stitched in gold thread in the corner before it disappeared between you two and he pulled out, making quick work to clean you up. When he was satisfied, he stood up fully to pull his slacks back up around his waist, and reached over for your bra, handing it back to you. You slowly sat up, your muscles still feeling like jelly. The two of you were quiet as you redressed yourselves, and you remembered he had your thong in his pocket.

Holding your hand out, you asked, “can I have them back now?”

Josh smirked again as he put his jacket back on, “no…I’m keeping those.”

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, “Josh!”

He took your hand and started to lead you to the door, “you can have them back when we get to my place…”

Stopping dead in your tracks you say, “a little presumptuous don’t you think?” Josh’s eyes widened and he realized how that sounded, and he opened his mouth to apologize before you continued, “who said we were going to your place instead of mine?” You laughed at how his shoulders visibly relaxed at your words, and caught up with him at the door.

“You really are a wicked little thing…,” he mumbled as you ventured back out into the cold.

As you made it to Josh’s car, you thought you had done a good job at not being seen by anyone, but unbeknownst to the two of you, Stacy and Brad were standing on that same deck from earlier. They watched your very freshly-fucked selves climb into the Jeep before taking off.

A week or so later, on Christmas Eve-Eve, you were greeted to a present sitting on your desk. It was a decent sized box covered in blue wrapping paper, matching blue bow on top.

“Merry Christmas, Blue,” your boyfriends voice sounded behind you. You looked over your shoulder at him, dropping your bag on your chair. “Go on…it’ll fit on your desk.”

Skeptically you turned and ripped the wrapping paper off the box, the first thing you saw was the red LEGO square in the corner. Confused, you peeled off the rest of the paper to reveal your present. It was the greenhouse LEGO set.

“You little shit.”

FIN

Tag List: @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @stardustvanfleet ,

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #blue Christmas #greta van fleet #josh gvf #friends to lovers #mutual pining #my fics #💙🎄

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nebulousbrainsoup · 4 months

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Insurrection

Chapter 1: Catalyst

⛧ SUMMARY: One choice, made to fan the flames of love, may be the spark to start a war. ⛧PAIRING: vampire!kang yeosang x hunter!reader ⛧GENRE: fantasy, angst (so much angst), smut ⛧AU/TROPE INFO: fantasy au, vampire au, forbidden lovers, hurt no comfort ⛧WORD COUNT: 4.8k ⛧TAGS/WARNINGS: major character death (i'm so sorry), blood, violence, lots of emotion, mental breakdowns, pet names ([my] love, darling, love, Sangie), protective!yunho and protective!yeosang, treating vampires as unseelie fae, not beta'd ⛧RATING: mature ⛧A/N: for @a1sh1teruu; happy christmas from your secret santa! very sorry i'm a few days late; life has been interesting lately and this baby got away from me! i hope i didn't go too hard on the angst you asked for, but i did ask for your hard limits and, uh... i'm an angst writer first and foremost. (if i did go overboard, please please let me know, and i will whip you up something warmer and fluffier.) this did begin as a standalone, but the lovely @kwanisms convinced me to make it a series, so here we are! there will be a few more installments; a prologue and at least one sequel. even if no one else does, zerda, i hope you enjoy this. much love, orion <3 ⛧ smut tags under the cut ; banner by momther ki (kwanisms) ⛧masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

⛧ SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: sex as a distraction/coping mechanism, yeo has vampire speed and strength (don't look too close i didn't logic), sensitive pointy ears, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (boo), multiple orgasms (fem), pet names (Yeosangie, Sangie, baby, darling, love, my pretty girl ), mentions of exhibitionism & sharing if you squint, lack of aftercare bc they're both exhausted

In hindsight, perhaps you should have seen the signs. You had never seen Yeosang eat, no matter how many cafés you frequented together. He had been known throughout the village for his strange attire, the reverse of the seasons; he was covered from chin to fingertip to toe in the summers, while the dark winters found him showing a bit more skin. His pale complexion or the way he could throw you around in the bedroom without breaking a sweat may have given him away to you if you had paid closer attention. You hadn’t, though, and now you paid the price.

Your elders stood in a semicircle in front of you, stony faced, and your blood ran cold. Gideon glowered at you over the top of his steepled fingers, jaw tight.

“Kill or be killed, Y/N,” he spat, “the decision is yours. Kang Yeosang will not be able to protect you from us.”

It took every fiber of your being to hold back the shiver that threatened to tear down your spine. Your mind swirled as you bowed your head respectfully, hands clasped tightly in front of you. Something churned in your gut as you met his eye; whether or not his words would ring true was still to be determined, but you knew he and the rest of the council would try their absolute hardest.

“I understand, Elder Lewis. I will begin my preparations immediately,” you agreed, turning on your heel to see yourself out of the room. Three of the five sat straighter at your promise, one smiling proudly. You sighed in relief; so long as most of them believed you, you would survive the night. You could warn him and, if you were lucky, run.

For most, Yeosang and the rest of his coven were nearly impossible to find; he had told you some story ages ago, but now the secrecy made sense. Few were trusted with a map to their home, and you were thankful tonight to be one of those elites. Strategically placed vines guided you through the trees like flags, their leaves blending into the color of the evergreens’ needles to the untrained eye. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you hurried through the snow, fists clenched at your sides. The path was familiar and though time seemed to drag on in a blur, it felt like you arrived in seconds. The trees parted to a familiar, comforting sight; three cabins and a grand hall circled around a small clearing, and you beelined for Yeosang’s front door.

It was his roommate, Yunho, who opened the door and tried to greet you but you pushed past him, body and mind set on your comfort. You practically collapsed into Yeosang’s arms, a small, pained sound leaving you as he bundled you into his embrace. His quiet questions and murmured comforts were lost on you. Your mind was running at a thousand miles a minute, a million questions running through your mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were vampires?” The first inquiry fell from your lips thoughtlessly, and you felt the air disappear from the room. Yunho’s footsteps halted where they were parting to allow you privacy, and you could feel the tension spike. The silence rang louder than any scream. “And don’t try to deny it; I’ve seen the evidence.”

“Who… how did you find this out, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, shoving him away from you and taking a step back. Behind you, you heard Yunho shift to his friend’s defense, but a sharp glare from Yeosang seemed to halt him. “I’m a hunter, Yeosang. You’ve known this; don’t play dumb. My elders showed me your files today,” you paused, turning over your shoulder to glance at Yunho. “All of ATEEZ’s files.”

You watched as the elder coiled like a spring, ready to strike, still pinned in place only by your boyfriend’s scathing stare. Silence once again stretched for what seemed like an eternity, heavy across your shoulders. Finally, Yeosang broke it.

“Leave us, Yunho.”

“Absolutely not.” The reply was immediate, the taller boy standing straighter, his chin high. “I’m not leaving you alone with a hunter.”

You scowled, hearing your boyfriend growl a warning. You knew his expression must match your own. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with my girlfriend alone.”

Yunho opened his mouth to speak again but this time, you were the one to silence him. “I understand your worry and I appreciate your drive to protect your coven. I am not here to hurt Yeosang; I am here to… to ask for help,” you admitted, turning back to glance at your lover. “I forgot to even grab my knife before I left, if I’m being honest.” Yeosang let out a strangled noise of protest, worry painting his face, and you held up a hand to keep him quiet. “The elders… Gideon gave me a choice today. Kill or be killed. And I… I don’t want to do either.”

You could see Yeosang’s heart breaking, the corner of his lips curling down and his brow furrowing. “Yunho, please,” he murmured, “let us figure this out.” He gave no response, but a moment later, you heard the front door click shut, and Yeosang was bundling you back up into his arms.

The moment you were alone, you shattered into pieces. You grasped his shirt in fists as tears flowed like waterfalls down your cheeks, his grip around you tightening like a vice. Sobs wracked your body violently, and you thanked the gods for Yeosang’s strength as, despite your knees buckling under you, you remained upright. He muttered quiet reassurances into your hair, hands running soothingly up and down your back.

When you calmed, he gently guided you back, eyes soft and open as he cupped your cheeks and wiped the tears from them. You screwed your eyes shut and gripped onto his wrists like a lifeline, willing a fresh wave of emotion back.

“It will be alright, my love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together. You can stay here for as long as you like, and we’ll protect you like our own.”

You whined in protest, eyes blinking open slowly. Sniffling, you shook your head. “I can’t ask that of you. If I’m tracked down, they’ll kill you all too. Hongjoong wouldn’t be willing to take that risk for a simple little mortal, much less one who has trained her entire life to hunt and kill him. He would be crazy.”

Yeosang giggled quietly, smiling gently. “I think you’ll find he is a little crazy when the situation calls for it. He trusts you like one of us already; he allowed me to show you the path here. You will be welcome.”

Hesitantly, you nodded, resigned to accepting your lover’s offer. There was little else you could do. “I will need a few things from the stronghold. I can go back to gather them tonight, and return tomorrow.”

Peeking over your head and out the window, Yeosang frowned. It had been nearing nightfall when you had arrived, and the thought of you unarmed and stumbling through the dark forest unnerved him. He pulled you against his chest, carding a hand into your hair to scratch at your scalp.

“Stay with me tonight, love. Let this be the first night of our new lives together. Let me protect you.” You felt your shoulders relax with every word he spoke, a soft smile playing at your lips. He had already convinced you but he continued, eyes flickering down to your lips. “Let me distract you.”

You let your tongue flick out over your lips, drawing his attention back to them as you grinned. Hands slipping up his chest, you pressed closer to him. “What better way to spend our first night together?”

Yeosang grinned, tugging you in to crash your lips together. You hummed happily as you melted against him, one arm draping over his shoulder while the other carded into the hair at his nape. He held you to him tightly still, sighing against your mouth as you melted against him.

“Take me to bed, Yeosangie,” you muttered when you parted for breath, and he was more than happy to oblige. Strong arms braced under your thighs and lifted you in one fluid motion. Before you had time to think, you were in his room with your back pressed to the mattress, and you let out a squeak of surprise. Your lover was grinning at you when you pulled away. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I assume you’ll be using all of your fancy vampire powers at every turn, hm?”

“Maybe not all of them,” he teased, pressing kisses up your jaw. “I’ll only bite if you ask nicely,” he purred into your ear, his silky baritone sending a shudder down your spine.

You whined, tugging him back up by his hair to lock your lips, legs wrapping around his middle to pull him impossibly closer. He groaned, low and broken, as you ground against him, losing himself for a moment before he pinned your hips down to the bed.

“Tonight is all about you, my love,” he hummed, hands running down your thighs as he sat back on his knees. You pouted up at him and he couldn’t help but grin, kneading at the soft flesh under his fingers. “I’m going to take my time with you and savor this. No more quick nights at the tavern, hm?”

You shuddered under his touch, eyes flickering to the door. “What about Yunho?”

The grin on Yeosang’s face was purely wicked and heat ran through your body. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure the whole coven can hear you.”

Despite his promise to take his time, Yeosang stripped you down quickly, tugging your shirt off and trousers down to leave you in only your undergarments. The moment he could, he leaned down, nipping at your inner thigh and grinning triumphantly at the sound it pulled from you. His lips quickly found their way to your throat as he let your legs fall in favor of slotting himself between them, lips attaching themselves to your throat. The drag of his teeth over your pulse had you whining into his ear, breath ghosting over the subtly pointed tip. It was Yeosang’s turn to shudder, all of his blood rushing south at the feeling. He sighed, burying his head against your shoulder as he gathered himself.

Or tried to, because a moment later, you were tucking his hair behind his ear, fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin, and he was choking back a moan. “C-Careful,” he muttered, reaching up to grab your wrist and halt you. “They’re sensitive.”

“I don’t see the issue,” you hummed, drawing his gaze back up. You were grinning down at him and it was a pretty sight, but the mischief twinkling in your eyes had Yeosang wanting to wipe it from your face.

Pinning your wrist to the bed, he slipped down your body at lightning speed, face level with your clothed core. In an instant, his tongue was pressed against you, and you let out a choked shout at the wet warmth that joined your own arousal. Yeosang grinned proudly once more, letting his teeth graze lightly over your heat as he sat back. That particular friction was foreign but pleasant, pulling a pretty little whimper from you.

“Do you still not see the issue with playing with sensitive areas, love, or shall I continue?”

Not one to be upstaged, you huffed a sigh, the corner of your mouth ticking up in a grin. “I don’t think I quite get it.”

Yeosang chuckled, leaning back to lap a stripe up your thigh. Nipping at your hip, he slowly began a path up your body, leaving wet kisses in his wake. You sighed, the sound like music to his ears as you turned to putty beneath his hands.

Your bra was the next garment to leave your body, tossed carelessly to the side as his mouth descended on your chest, lips quickly closing around your peaked nipple. One hand bracing himself, the other lit a contrastingly cool trail down your torso, coming to rest over your underwear. A quiet squeak left you and you squirmed under him, his icy fingers bringing a delicious new sensation to your warm arousal while his lips worked over your other breast.

“Sangie,” you gasped out, one hand tangling into his hair and tugging encouragingly. “More, please.”

Chuckling lowly against your skin, he obliged, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side to slide his fingers through your wetness. You whined and writhed under him, hips seeking further stimulation—this wasn’t enough. The pad of his finger circled your clit and you jolted, a pitched whine leaving you that had Yeosang’s control snapping in an instant.

He needed more, and he needed it now. More of you, more of your lovely little sounds, more of your warm body pressed against his cold one.

Pulling back from your chest with a wet noise, he sat back on his heels, tugging his shirt off and tossing it away from him. Your remaining undergarment was pulled off and discarded as he stood, quickly ridding himself of his final layers, too. He drank you in with a gaze that made you feel like prey, delicate and helpless underneath the ancient power that coursed through his veins. Pride swelled in his chest as he took in your open-mouthed, hungry stare. He chuckled to himself and ran a hand across his broad chest, letting you drink in the sight of him. His grin only spread as he watched you turn away from him, shy.

“My pretty girl,” he hummed, running his fingers up the insides of your thighs as he settled between them again.

Your pretty little whine had him preening as he lowered himself to your core, grinning up at you. Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he held eye contact and sighed against you as you shuddered, before his tongue flicked out to tease at your slit. He delighted in the way your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you urged him closer. His sharp, calculated gaze remained on you as he flattened his tongue against you, humming happily at the taste of you. His eyes rolled back in his head, finally slipping shut as he began to lose himself in the ecstasy that was your essence.

Your sounds only grew as he began to eat you out in earnest and they went straight to his cock; Yeosang found himself rutting into the mattress within minutes, desperate to find any amount of friction. His pride fell to the wayside as he gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. He barely came up for air as he buried his face in your pussy, pleasured moans leaving him as he chased both of your peaks. Your tugging on his hair was what brought him back into his mind and, though he shot you a glare, his fingers quickly replaced his mouth.

You were gasping for breath as he sat upright, grinning proudly while your legs dropped to rest over his elbows. “What’s the matter, love?”

“C-Can’t, g’nna cum,” you gasped, hands coming to rest over his biceps as you melted back into the mattress.

“Oh, well if that’s all,” he hummed, slowly lowering himself back down. You whimpered, hands tangling back into his hair at the warmth of his tongue and the chill of his fingers, but gave no further sounds of protest as he dove back into you. Within seconds, your legs were clamping down around his ears and he was opening his eyes, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy as he worked you over the edge. With one final suck to your clit, he sat back on his heels and drank in the whine that left you, sighing happily.

“Gods above, you taste good,” he murmured, licking his lips hungrily.

“Yeosang,” you whined, hands clawing up his arms to pull him close, “need you baby, please.”

“Need what?” He grinned, shifting up to cage you in completely, his cockhead teasing at your folds. You whine, shifting lower, and he clicked his tongue as one hand came to rest over your throat, stilling your movements.

You whined, blinking up at him with wide, doe eyes, and he had to bite back a growl. “Your cock, Sangie, please.”

He grinned down at you devilishly as he pressed into you, drinking down every whine and moan that spilled from your mouth as he sealed his lips with your own. When he was finally sheathed within your warmth, he sighed happily and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his and he felt secure, safe, as he began a slow and deliberate pace.

“So long as you’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, his speed building. “I will protect you. What is mine is the coven’s and what is the coven’s is mine.” You clenched around him, and he groaned lowly, his eyes squeezing shut. “We keep our own safe.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, the air crackling electric between you as you climbed to your second peak at record speed. The way his speed built in tandem with the passion of his words had you squirming, clawing for him. He shuddered, too, as your walls spasmed around him, his own orgasm catching him by surprise. He sat up straight and sheathed himself in you fully as you both rode out the waves of pleasure, his hips rolling in tiny circles to prolong it.

With one last kiss to your forehead, he pulled himself from you and collapsed to your side. He gave himself to the count of ten to bask in the warmth as he felt himself quickly falling into the meditative state he considered “sleep,” emerging from the brink of it to clean you. You sighed, basking in the attention, and Yeosang’s heart skipped a beat as he crawled back into bed with you—tired, cuddly, smiling, perfect you. He prayed you were asleep as he whispered into your hair.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hid your grin in his chest and fell asleep in his arms.

When you awoke in a bed that was not your own, the curtains around you pulled shut, you startled. Yeosang was laid next to you reading, and as you stirred, he glanced up from his page. “Good morning, darling.”

You smiled, turning over to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning when he flushed and turned back to his book. “Good morning, Sangie. What time is it?”

“Just after sunrise.”

Huffing, you pushed yourself up from the bed. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late. I’ll have to hope no one has a route in this direction today,” you muttered as you went about gathering your clothes, strewn about the room. “And that no one decided to hang around near my room.”

Yeosang set his book aside, frowning. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will do no such thing, Kang Yeosang,” you protested, continuing on before he could speak. “The moment you are within firing distance of the castle, the elders will see you taken out. Stay here and speak to Hongjoong; I’ll only be gone a few hours.” He frowned deeply, eyes tracking your movements carefully as you tugged back the curtains an inch. “It’s bright out today, anyway. You wouldn’t be very comfortable past the treeline.”

The fight was over before it had really started, logic winning out over Yeosang’s protective nature. You were right; in the full sun of the day, with the snow reflecting it back up at him, he would be weak. Not only would protecting you be a challenge, his presence might hinder the speed of your mission.

“Alright. I’ll speak with Hongjoong. I’ll give you until noon to be back before I start looking for you.” Grinning, you bounced back across the room, leaning down to press a kiss to Yeosang’s lips. He hummed happily as he carded a hand into your hair, gently tugging you back for more.

With a hand on his shoulder, you kept him at bay, chuckling quietly to yourself. “You had enough of me last night, love. You can have more tonight, but you have to let me go get my belongings.”

The sigh that left him was half-hearted at best, and you huffed another breath of laughter. “Fine. Be safe and hurry back.”

“I will.”

As the door shut behind you, something unsettling stirred in his gut. For inexplicable reasons, he felt as though you were lying.

“Yunho, you met this girl. Can we trust her?” Hongjoong questioned, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. He looked relaxed, at ease in the safety of his own chambers, only the twitching of his jaw giving away his current inner turmoil.

The man in question thought for a moment, shrugging and giving a small nod. “I think Yeosang coming back in one piece today is a pretty good sign.”

He nodded slowly, mulling the request over. It was a great risk for the coven to take in a mortal, both to the mortal and the coven. Word had spread on one occasion they did such a thing, and they had been forced to move rather abruptly. Y/N’s upbringing as a monster hunter added another convoluted layer to the whole ordeal; she could be playing them to spy for her order or, if they truly were on the hunt for her, she could end up getting them all killed. But no matter how stoic and strict he may look to outsiders, Hongjoong had an undeniable soft spot for his coven. So, as Yeosang stood there, a determined and pleading look on his face, the elder vampire caved.

“Fine. But let her know that she will be expected to pull her weight. She can stay with you and Yunho until we figure out other living arrangements,” he conceded, huffing an annoyed sigh that held little weight. “Now go tell the others.”

Yeosang beamed, practically bouncing toward the door and flinging it open. Wooyoung, who had just started up the front porch steps, startled and fell back against San.

“Y/N is coming to live with us!” He blurted out, and the pair shared a confused look. “It’s a whole long story. Speaking of, have either of you seen her? I can’t wait to tell her.”

Wooyoung recovered before San did, blinking back into himself and sharing a bright smile with his friend. “That’s great! I can’t wait for her to meet everyone else. Sannie, I think you’ll really like her. I haven’t seen her around today; is she here?”

“She went to gather her things from the hunters’ stronghold. She should be back any minute.” Something unpleasant coiled in Yeosang’s gut, and he frowned. “You didn’t happen to see any hunters on your way back in, did you?”

San and Wooyoung shared a look that had Yeosang’s blood running cold. “We did,” San confirmed. “They were headed away from here, though. We didn’t bother with them.”

Behind him, someone stirred, and Yeosang spun on his heel, eyes pleading with Hongjoong as he approached. “She said she’d be in danger if she ran into other hunters. We have to look for her.”

Resolutely, Hongjoong nodded, turning back over his shoulder. “Yunho, get Jongho. San, Wooyoung, go get Seonghwa and Mingi. We’ll head toward their stronghold and work outward—stay in pairs, stay out of sight, and do not eng—”

Before the leader could finish his sentence, a sharp scream echoed through the forest, and Yeosang’s eyes widened. He went rigid for a moment, keen ears twitching as they scanned the forest, tracking the echoes until he could pinpoint a near exact location of origin. He was moving before he could think, dashing down the path and into the treeline. Dodging trees and leaping over fallen branches as he tore through the brush, the warning shouts of his coven fell on deaf ears. They would follow, he knew. He only slowed for a moment when he caught the scent of your blood in the air, tripping over his own feet before pushing forward with even more purpose.

In hindsight, he should have realized that your familiar yell was not one of fear, as he had been so worried about. He should have taken even a moment to breathe.

You were still upright when he barreled into the clearing, wrestling with another hunter for what looked to be a blade. Your face was twisted in a grimace, desperation and anger marring the features he was so used to seeing alight with joy. He called your name and you turned, the panic-stricken look you sent him sending confusion and hurt lancing through him. He was here to help; shouldn’t you be happy to see him?

In hindsight, he should have realized why your cry was so familiar to his ears. Maybe he would have registered that it had been full of pure, white-hot rage; the same rage you directed at him during your first meeting.

Time slowed, and with the snap of a wire, Yeosang understood.

The bolt burned as it pierced through his ribs, and his vision went white with the pain as he toppled forward, falling to his hands and knees with a shout of his own. This time, there was pain in your exclamation; he couldn’t quite make out the words, but he heard the break in your voice that he knew, all too well, meant tears were brimming. He tasted iron as he coughed, distantly registering the shadow of black that splattered the snow in front of him.

It had been a while since he’d seen his own blood.

More shouts echoed as he fell to his knees, vision going black for a moment. When his sight returned, you were in front of him, and Yeosang’s brow furrowed. Humans like you, as far as he knew, couldn’t move that fast. He glanced over your shoulder, gasping—when had the coven gotten here?

Another blink, and he was on his back, staring up at your distressingly heartbroken expression. Your hands cupped his cheeks for a beat, and he melted into the fleeting feeling, grumbling in disapproval as they streaked down his neck to his sides. About halfway to his hips, they stopped, and the pain that sparked through him had him coming back to his senses, a shout choked behind his teeth.

“Leave it,” he hissed, and you made a pained noise. The iron crossbow bolt had embedded itself firmly and, despite his protests, you gave it another tug. This time, Yeosang shouted, bolting upright and batting your hand away from him. “Barbed,” he croaked, falling back to his hands and knees. “You’ll rip me up if you take it out.”

“And it’ll poison you slowly if I don’t,” you urged, reaching for him. “You can heal the injuries, please.”

Yeosang frowned deeply, eyes squeezing shut as he took stock of his body. “Not… quickly enough.”

“Please let me try,” you begged, hand settling below his wound. “Please give yourself a chance. Let me give you a chance, Yeosang, please.”

Oh, how weak he was for you.

Swallowing thickly, he screwed his eyes shut and nodded, rolling once more onto his back with a wince. “If it pleases you.”

“None of this pleases me,” you shot back, choking on a sob around your words. Your grip solid around the arrow’s shaft, you gave a strong tug, and Yeosang shouted through gritted teeth as it came free. “I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry,” you breathed, cupping his face.

“No more… apologies. This is not your fault,” he muttered between coughs. His mouth felt wetter than usual and he turned, dizzy as he watched more black mar the white ground. “Oh.”

“Stay still, Sangie, please, let your magic work. Don’t make things worse. Just… stay here. It’ll be okay.”

You didn’t sound sure. Yeosang huffed a laugh, coughed. “I won’t heal… fast enough,” he muttered, rolling once more onto his back. “H’ngjoong s-said… You can stay with us. Make sure he keeps… ‘s word.”

His eyes fluttered shut. He was so tired all of a sudden. Distantly, he could hear you calling to him, could feel your hands on his cheeks. He smiled, leaning into the warmth of your palms, a stark contrast to the chill surrounding him. The world was turning to white noise; Yeosang sighed.

One voice, familiar and filled with venom, cut through the roar. He was just used to listening for his Captain, after all, and he heard him clear as day now.

“You have just declared a war.”

Everything went quiet.

TAGLISTS: [open, apply here.]

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#cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #k-vanity #mfu-net #wonderlandnet #yeosang x reader #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #yeosang smut #yeosang angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #neb.atz #neb.insurrection #nebulous writes

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betryl · 5 months

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We've all heard about that one bacchanal theory – that it wasn't them who killed the farmer, but a mountain lion. It's all left vague enough for anyone to decide whether to believe it or not, but the reason why I love it and think it could make the whole story even better if it were true is because it would add to how meaningless everything was.

The five of them had a motive to want Bunny gone, which was definitely not enough to justify their action in the first place anyways, but it still made sense. Bunny knew they had killed a man and the only way they found to prevent him from spilling their secret was getting rid of him. From their twisted point of view, it was necessary.

But if they hadn't actually killed that man? Bunny would have been murdered for nothing. Bunny's death, Henry's death, everything that followed that one night would have been caused just by a big misunderstanding.

Of course, the first murder wasn't the only thing that pushed them to commit the second one, and actually we could argue it wasn't even the main reason why they did it and maybe they would have done it even under different circumstances, maybe they were always going to end up like that – but still, what happened then was the practical catalyst for all the rest. So if that wasn't their fault, then there was no actual reason for things to go as horribly as they did.

It really makes it all look even more like something out of a Greek tragedy. Everything could have been easily avoided, hadn't they been so hubristic. But instead they played gods, payed the price, and brought their own fate upon themselves.

#tsh #the secret history #richard papen #henry winter #bunny corcoran #francis abernathy #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay

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oddsconvert · 16 days

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Shattered #10 - Happy Birthday, August! Part II

Previous / Masterlist

CW: kidnapped whumpee, captivity (kinda), defiant whumpee, whumpee thinks caretaker is a whumper, forced to kidnap references, vampire caretaker, unwilling whumper, forced to be whumper, ALOT of self-loathing and fucky thoughts and guilt and all of it, weapons, adult language, mentions of blood, brief mention of vomit/nausea, reference to toxic/abusive family dynamic (if I've missed any, please let me know! <3)

Part two! A long time coming! The final part should drop in the next few days/this week! :D thank you to the amazing @whumpcereal for her AMAZING beta on this 🥺🫶

---

August has always dreamt of cake on his birthday, the warm scent of sugar and butter taunting his vampiric senses like forbidden fruit. The cake would be chocolate, of course. Every human loves chocolate; it must be the tastiest thing on Earth. This year, there would have been one hundred and thirty candles, barely fitting on top of it. And August could blow them all out and make his birthday wish. Just like the humans do.

But if the flickering flames on his imaginary cake could really grant his wishes, he wouldn’t wish for chocolate. With a single puff of breath, he’d wish to rewind time and erase this horrific day out of existence. Or, perhaps, he’d wish for a clean slate - a life free from the regret that eats him alive. But above all, he would wish to finally be happy - whatever that means. But where does August get the gall to wish for his own happiness when he is the catalyst of another’s misery?

He stole a human being tonight. He crept through the streets, snatched them from where they slept and locked them away. He’d lurked in the shadows and all, like a true monster. As far as the human is aware, they saw the stars for the last time this eve and they’ll never feel fresh air stream through their lungs again. August could see it the moment their eyes first locked - the human feared the blood coursing through his own veins was his no longer, that he had become nothing more than food.

No, if August had birthday candles, he should be wishing for the human’s pain to stop, not his own. He should pray for any memories of this miserable night to fade away, and for the human to feel nothing but warmth and safety for the rest of his days. How dare August make this about himself?

How dare August call himself a doctor?

Really, if August is anything other than a feral creature, he is a coward. He can’t find a drop of courage in his selfish core to face the human. Of course not. That would mean facing up to what he has done to the human.

Instead, August kneels in the bathroom, and he hugs the toilet bowl tight in his arms. He sputters and heaves as spit dribbles from his lips. It’s a battle against wave after wave of never-ending nausea. August is sickened by himself. Repulsed by the cruelty that he and his kind are capable of. Even if he earned his family’s stamp of approval tonight - something he’s always dreamed of and strived for - it wasn’t worth it. Not one bit. He refuses to hurt, abuse and sacrifice an innocent life for a scrap of their regard. Curse their prideful smiles and damn their hollow praise.

CRASH! Shattering glass pierces through the silence in-between retches. August’s heart leaps up into his throat, and his gut clenches.

His human is awake - no! August shakes that insidious thought from his head. Not his, and never his. The human does not belong to him.

August wills the ground to open up and swallow him whole. The thought of skulking down to that basement with his tail between his legs and shame swelling in his chest - it turns his already churning stomach with bubbles of dread. Still, he must. He peels himself from the bathroom floor, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and makes his way downstairs to greet his guest. There’s not a second spare to wallow and drown in self-pity.

He grips the stair bannister for dear life, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. Still, he forces his dragging feet to move one step at a time down to the basement. There’s no backing out of this, no turning and running now. August needs to face the music–or face his victim, rather. He must fix what he’s done to this poor human.

There is the sound of a jarring crash, and then another dull thud resonates from behind the locked basement door. August’s shaking hands fumble to fit the key in the lock. With a click, the door opens, and he cautiously descends into the dimly lit basement, every footstep echoing in the sudden, eerie silence.

That is until he hears the human’s heart. It pounds like a war-drum in August’s ears, each beat louder and more erratic. August flicks the light switch, and as the basement floods with light, he freezes on the spot, beyond horrified at the scene before him.

His life's work, decades of dedication, lay in ruins. His surgery looks like the aftermath of an explosion. All the furniture is flipped over, and shards of shattered glass sparkle across the floor like jewels amongst the blitz. Charts and graphs once meticulously hung on the wall now dangle in tatters, their scientific data reduced to meaningless scraps. His medicinal cabinets have been ransacked; trails of viscous liquid snake across the concrete floor from countless broken vials. The air is thick with the acrid smell of chemicals.

And there, behind his masterpiece of destruction, cowers the human, pressed flat against the farthest wall, a scalpel gripped in trembling hands held out before him. Its sharp tip is pointed in August’s direction, glistening against the surgery's harsh strip lights.

August has seen fear in human eyes more times than he can possibly count, but he has never seen fear like this. The human’s eyes burn with such primal terror that they touch the very core of August’s being. In the man’s eyes, August sees his own fear, his own isolation and his own despair. But August stays there, unable to look away no matter how it hurts him. He is trapped in this man’s stare, lost in a labyrinth of his own reflections.

But August feels something else too. A raw and untamed emotion. Rage. All-consuming anger that makes goosebumps prickle down the vampire’s pale skin. Rage courses through the human’s veins like a river of molten lava.

“You stay the hell back!” the human roars until his voice wavers and wobbles. He swings the scalpel into the empty space between them, stabbing at the air. “Don’t you dare come near me!”

August’s hands fly up in surrender. Words escape him. What could he possibly say to make this right? Where does he even start? Surely nothing he could say could do justice to his regret.

“I’m sorry-”

That’s the first thing that blurts out of August’s pathetic mouth. Because it is the only and the most sincere thought that comes to him. As though his apology could ever mend the damage or heal the pain he’s caused tonight.

August is shaking now. He can’t stop. His palm slams against his mouth as he chokes back a guilt-warbled cry. “I’m - so…I’m SO sorry. I - I don’t - I…I -I never. I didn’t want to hurt you. I - I won’t hurt you! I don’t want this. Please - y-you have to believe me. You’re safe here-”

August moves without thinking, over the rubble and glass shards. He moves barely an inch closer, and the human erupts into panic. Like a great cat, the human swiftly pounces and flips the table in front of him to form a barricade, stopping August dead in his tracks. Surgical instruments clatter about, and yet more glass scatters across the cement floor.

“I SAID STAY BACK!” the human brays like a feral animal. His chest heaves dramatically as his lungs seem to fight for breath, and he takes an unsteady step back to create even more distance between them. Gingerly, he cradles his hand, still clutching the scalpel. A gasp escapes his lips as crimson wells from a sudden gash. The tang of iron hits August’s nostrils, drool coats his tongue and his fangs tingle, ready to feed. He wrestles with his animalistic instincts and pushes back the unwanted and primal hunger that threatens to take over. He knows he doesn’t want it, but his body thinks he needs it.

The human had hurt himself in his own destructive frenzy. August can’t help but feel responsible for that too. But that doesn’t seem to deter the human, in fact, it fuels him. He launches himself at the countertops. In one fluid motion, sweeping his arms across the surfaces, clearing it of every single object in a deafening cascade that shatters across the floor.

“HUMAN! PLEASE STOP!”

The human doesn’t speak, but a slow, cold anger radiates off him. Brows slam together, his jaw clenches until the muscles stand out starkly. A single word, each syllable dripping with disdain, finally leaves his lips: "'Human'?"

August immediately realises his mistake. Guilt eats him from the inside out. You utter barbarian; he scolds himself.

“I have a name, you know!” The human snaps incredulously, bloody hands curling into fists.

“Of course, of course! Just…” August breathes, “What is your name?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?!”

The bookshelves are the human’s next victim. He doesn’t bother pulling or ripping at them; he just bulldozes them with a barge of his shoulder. The shelves topple with a cacophony of splintering wood and flapping pages. His gaze is already fixed on his next target: a framed diploma hanging on the wall, defying the human’s rampage.

“Wait, no! P-Please, not that!” August begs, hands clasped together in supplication. The diploma represents his proudest achievement, everything that he’s worked so hard for. It is the only proof August has that there may be good in him somewhere. “Please! Don’t destroy anything else! I just need you to hear me out!”

“Open the door and let me walk out, vamp,” the human scowls, glossing over August’s pleas. “Or do I have to go through you?”

August swallows hard, the human’s casual threat sending a fresh wave of terror through him. He doesn’t doubt the human’s raw strength or willpower for even a second. The destroyed furniture and the fiery defiance in his eyes promise more violence. A heavy silence stretches between them, thick with tension.

“I - I want to help you - please just let me explain all of this-”

The human slams his fist into the nearest wall, a crater of dust left in its wake. August flinches into himself. Then, the man lets out a sound that no soul should ever have to hear. It’s a keening cry - a grieving wail for the life he fears he has lost. It rocks August to his core. It’s bloodcurdling.

“Why’d you choose me, huh?!” The human seethes, damn near foaming at the mouth. “Is it because I sleep rough on the streets? Is that it? Because my life is so fucking expendable?!”

Then, it’s as if a dam has burst. The human’s face just crumples as a choked sob croaks from his lips, barely even audible. Slowly, he slides down against the wall. Head in hands, shoulders slumped, any bravado completely drained from his posture.

“You knew no-one would come for me… didn’t you?” The human manages a whisper, his head hung low in defeat. Words just seem to keep failing August time and time again, he can only watch miserably and quietly.

“DIDN’T YOU?!” the human bellows, eyes bloodshot and wild as his head shoots up. August flinches at the outburst.

“What gives you the right to play god?! What makes my life worth any less than yours, or any other person you could have plucked from the damn street. It was a shitty life. But it was my life! There was nothing left to take from me, and you took it all anyway. You’re a… you’re a parasite.”

August bites his lips and nods, a silent, pathetic apology. He is a parasite. Every word burns like a red-hot fire poker but he knows he deserves every scorch. Scarlet-shame colours his cheeks. Monster, parasite, animal - he’s all of the above.

“I won’t stop fighting you,” the human huffs through tears of fury. “I won't stop until I kill you, even if it kills me. You're right. I have nothing, and no-one. Nothing to lose but everything to gain. So if I’m going to go down, I'm going down swinging. Do your worst…leech.”

Leech.

August has always thought of himself as a healer. A protector. It is here, in this moment, he finally realises he is nothing more than the predator he was born to be. Afterall, there is no denying what he has done. He did take the human, he took away everything the human had to take. He, too, sinks to the floor in devastation, landing heavily in a cross-legged slump opposite the tear-streaked human.

Worst birthday ever.

August is drained and depleted, but he won’t waste any more breath on defending himself; he isn’t worthy of any defence. But the very least he can do is comfort the human - help him to weather the storm and be the anchor he needs right now.

“You can keep the scalpel,” August sniffles, “if it gives you some comfort. If it helps you to feel safe.” It’s an impotent gesture. A scalpel would be useless against him in combat if it really did come to that, but hopefully the human can see the sentiment behind the offer. “All I ask is for a minute of your time, and I promise, I will explain everything to you.”

The human stares at the scalpel in his hand and then locks eyes with August’s in a silent duel. No accusation, no defiance this time - only a deep well of desperate inquiry burning in their depths. A million silent questions hang in the air. He begrudgingly nods for August to go on.

“I will take you home tomorrow morning. I swear it. I wish I could open the front door for you and let you stroll free and wave you off into the world, but we’re deep in vampire territory right now. You wouldn’t last five minutes out here on your own. You’ll be snatched back up in a heartbeat, and by a creature less...inviting than myself. We will go after sunrise tomorrow and not a minute later, you have my word.”

“Your word,” the human spits, “Your word means jack all to me.”

“Then let me prove that I am who I say I am - a man of my word. Let me show you to a bed for tonight. Let me give you food and water, and a pillow to rest your head. And then I will leave you be, to get all the sleep you want and need, and I will keep to myself. The next time you see me, it will be to make our journey back to human territory.”

“...Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking for your trust.” Heaven knows August doesn’t deserve it, could never earn it. “I’m asking, from the bottom of my heart, for your leniency. You could, and probably should, drive a stake through my chest for what I’ve put you through. I cannot say I would blame you, if you did. But…why don’t we both survive the night, and come tomorrow we go our separate ways?”

Relief floods in as the human seems to reluctantly ponder the deal. It’s just a night. They just need to make it through the night, and then they can both go back to their separate lives and try to forget each other's faces. The human must realise that too, because his boiling anger seems to simmer down. August rises to his feet and slowly moves across the room to extend a helping hand. The human only grunts his curt refusal and snubs the offer, forcing himself up off the cold and unforgiving ground.

“Spare bedroom. First floor. It’s all yours for the night. I’ll show you to it.” August nervously beckons the human over as he heads towards the basement door. The man sluggishly follows behind, keeping a distance that feels like miles. August feels distrustful eyes burning into the back of his head. He half expects to feel the scalpel pierce his spine any second.

But it doesn’t. As August leads the way upstairs, their unified steps echo strangely in the emptiness of the house. With each turn, the sheer scale of this place, his home, hits August anew. In the company of this poor stranger he’s pulled from the grime of the street, the house feels absurdly oversized. Every step reveals yet another opulent space – a bathroom, a bedroom, a study, a library, another bathroom. August marches him through this excessive display of wealth with a sinking heart. Does he truly need all this, especially when the man trailing behind him apparently doesn’t have a penny to his name or a roof over his head?

August pauses before what is now the third bedroom door they’ve come across, this one already ajar. Inside, the air is stuffy and still, as though the room hasn’t been disturbed in decades, and it hasn’t; it is untouched and unslept in. A sliver of moonlight creeps through the drawn curtains and slices across the four-poster bed.

“This is yours,” he motions the human through the doorway, “for the night-” he quickly repeats. He chooses every word with due care and diligence, to reaffirm that this situation is by no means permanent.

Hesitantly, the human steps inside. His eyes flit across the ornately carved furniture and over thick layers of dust. August takes his moment to disappear down the hallway, returning minutes later with a tray holding a jug of water, a glass and a bowl of steaming chicken soup - he was lucky to find the tin of it at the very back of his cupboard. A strained smile tugs at August’s lips as he sets it down on the nightstand.

Again, the human recoils from him, pressing himself into the corner of the room.

“I’ll go now, okay? I-I hope you can get a good night's sleep. If you need me, for anything, my bedroom is on the very end of the hall, on the left”.

“I won’t need you,” the human scoffs. “Go. Leave.”

The rebuff curdles August’s smile, his lips twitch nervously. “As you wish…” he mutters, stalking towards the door with defeat. Hand on the doorknob, he pauses, “My name is August, by the way. Could I please at least know your name, too?”

Rooted to the spot, the human squares his broad shoulders, a challenge radiating from his posture. “Names are sacred, leech,” he declares, teeth gritting together. “I plan to keep that secret for as long as I can keep my mind.”

The human’s words strike August like a physical blow. The air whooshes from his lungs, deflating him like a pricked balloon. Regret, sharp and bitter, settles in his chest. He can’t stay a second longer, not with the humiliating spark of unshed tears threatening to spill. His family is right, he’s a weak and pathetic excuse for a vampire. With a twist of the doorknob, he flees down the hall to his bedroom. He collapses onto his bed and buries his face in the pillow.

—

For the human, however, sleep will be a stranger tonight. Any last vestige of drowsiness flees as the vampire vanishes. Sleep just isn’t in the cards. He has to hold out until dawn. He scrambles for anything he can get his hands on to barricade the door. It’s his first line of defence overnight;it will give him a fighting chance and an advantage over the creature.

The heavy dresser groans in protest as he drags it across the room to block the door, scratching and scraping the floorboards along its path. He doesn’t think twice about the damage, if the vamp gets to destroy his life, then he gets to destroy it’s property. Then the rickety chair and the desk it sits at gets pushed into the barricade. And the bedside tables, the bookcase too. Finally, his gaze falls on the bed and its sturdy oak bedposts. He pulls his scalpel from his pocket and digs his scalpel into the wood, feverishly wedging a chunk out of it with all the strength he has left. Shavings rain down as he whittles it down to a sharpened point. Slapdash, but a stake nonetheless.

Every creek of the settling house, every rustle in the wind sets the human’s teeth on edge. He crawls into the bed and slips under the blankets. He’s pleasantly surprised at how soft they are, and how the mattress feels like he’s floating on a cloud and how warmth seems to instantly envelop his fatigued body. He’s not felt this much comfort in…in, well, years.

But he can’t afford to let his weary eyes slip shut. He stays watching the door like a hawk from his bed, his staked clutched close to his beating chest.

Morning can’t come quick enough.

*!*!*!*!*

Dawn finds the human bleary-eyed but alert. His crafted weapon is still clutched tightly in his palms as he half-stares and blinks drearily at the barricaded door, as ready and poised to attack as he can be. Moonlight has dwindled and now sunlight beams through the velvet curtains instead. He leaps up, rips the curtains open and basks in the sun’s kiss. It’s something he thought he’d never feel again,

He survived the night. It’s nothing short of a miracle. A silent thank you rises in his throat as a single tear slips from his eye. Someone, he thinks, has to be watching over him. His parents, he hopes. There’s no way he would have made it through this without them.

Now the vampire just has to hold true to his promise. If his word holds any weight, the human will be back in human territory before dusk. Yet, the whole situation defies any logic. The human can’t wrap his head around the absurdity of it all. Why would a vampire snatch him, just to return him by nightfall, less than twenty four hours later? He can’t fight the feeling that a deeper motive lurks beneath the surface, a sinister plan at play. Suspicion clings to the human like cobwebs. Beyond the hospitality and kindness… the vampire has to be up to something.

The human dismantles his barricade and heads out to go downstairs. Every fibre of his being screams ‘it’s a trap!’...but the human can’t deny the smallest sliver of hope in his chest, piercing his bubble of suspicion. The vampire had kept true to its word so far, it had left him alone and untouched, fed and watered, a bed to sleep in. It hasn’t laid a hand on him nor tried to feed. In fact, it had kept far away. Maybe the vampire deserves the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, there isn’t anything more to this than meets the eye, and there are no strings attached?

But hope is a dangerous thing, tempting him to lower his guard and leave himself vulnerable for thirsty fangs to sink into. No, he thinks grimly, tightening his grip on the makeshift stake. He will not trust, cautious acceptance will have to do. He’s ready to fight with all he’s got when it all heads south.

He reaches the landing and sneakily peeks over the railing. The vampire stands by the front door, guarding it like a troll bridge. To stop the human from escaping? The vampire meticulously folds up his sleek, black umbrella and places it back in his stand. He looks so tall, impossibly tall, even from the human’s vantage point. The vampire is dressed in a three-piece suit and leather dress shoes that seems more suited to an office boardroom than house wear.

As the human strains for a better look, a sudden creak of the floor makes the vampire snap his head up. Chilling red eyes lock with the human’s in a way that sends a jolt of pure terror down the man’s spine. Would he be punished for this? Would the vampire strip him of his free will and send him marching down to the basement for punishment? He’s heard they can do that–and worse. All the fear sparks anew. He can’t catch his breath - he’s panicking.

But the vampire's eyes aren’t actually filled with the predatory and furious glint he expected. Instead, a swirl of emotions flickers within them - concern, sorrow, even…anxiety? It’s a disarming sight. This creature looks nearly as worried as Lucas feels…

—

"There's been a change in plans,” August laments.

August could literally hear the human’s heart drop in his chest, like a lead weight falling into a deep well. The human’s eyes are wide with despair, and his mouth drops open as though he’s been struck across the cheek. A wave of guilt crashes over August, and he isn’t oblivious to how this looks. It looks like the betrayal and deceit the human has anticipated since he first set eyes on August. August is well aware he just crushed the man’s hopes to dust, and confirmed every doubt and fear. But it’s out of his hands. Mother nature is a cruel mistress.

“No-” the human rasps, nearly falling down the stairs as his legs give out on him. “No, vamp. You said you’d take me home. You said today. You promised-”

“That’s not the element that’s changed. My promises are sworn and imperishable. There is, however, a delay.”

"A ‘delay’…” The human repeats incredulously, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. His suspicion eats away at him, misplaced though it is. August is many things - a liar, he is not. But there’s no way the human could know that. Not yet, anyway. The human takes a cautious step back from August, staring him up and down with disdain.

"A storm is raging outside. The streets are thick with snow and ice, and the skies are dark with thundering clouds. It’s too dangerous to make the drive.”

“I don’t care,” the human snidely retorts. “I’ll walk it if I have to. Just open the door for me, and I’ll be on my merry way. I’ll be out of your hair and you can have your big, lonely mansion all to yourself again.”

Yes, his lonely mansion. All to himself. The words sting more than August cares to admit. He winces like a knife is twisting in his belly. When the human goes home, he will be all alone again. It was nice…is nice…the company. Talking to someone that’s not a suffering patient or his own reflection in the mirror. He already feels the emptiness settling over him once again. He longs for companionship, for someone to share his home with. He sighs, knowing that he'll have to wait a bit longer for his wish to come true. He can’t keep the human here–at least not indefinitely. But he will have to make the human understand that tonight is non-negotiable.

“You can’t-” August shakes his head. The man would never make it home. Not with the minus temperatures and the blankets of snow.

“I can. I am. Move,” the human growls, his hands balled into fists. Only then does August notice the crude stake in the human’s white-kncukled hand. No, this human will never be his friend, but even still, August has a duty to him.

The human storms towards the door and tries to push it open. It doesn’t budge. He barges his shoulder into the door, desperately ramming it. Still it doesn’t give. Soon, he’s kicking and shoving and a warbled cry rockets up his throat. Despite his frantic assault, the door only cracks open slightly.

“Snow,” August chimes in, pointing to the falling white powder crumbling through the gap in the door. “We’re snowed in. Must be at least twelve inches of it, I would think.”

“No. This can’t be happening. We-We climb out the bedroom window!” The human’s eyes light up at the idea, sprinting towards the staircase in a panic.

“And then what will you do? Trek all the way back to human territory in this snowstorm? Do you know how far out we are?”

In the blink of an eye, the human tumbles to the floor in a heap, screaming into his hands, pulling at his hair. The blizzard howls like a banshee outside, a gust of snow blows in from outside. The human knows he’s stuck here. He’s trapped here, with a bloodsucker. He’s going to die. Or at least that’s what he must believe.

“I can’t stay here. With you. I won’t do it.”

“Please,” August says. He resists the urge to move closer; there’s no point in riling the human any more than he’s already riled himself up. “My word is my bond. I won’t harm you. But I can’t in good conscience return you to where I found you. I’m a physician. I can’t put anyone in harm’s way. To sleep rough on a night like tonight–it would be a death sentence.”

The human laughs coldly. “Was this your plan all along? Crush my spirits? Delude me into thinking it’s my choice to stay?”

“I don’t control the weather,” August sighs. “This doesn’t change a thing. I will still take you home as soon as the roads are clear.”

The human remains silent, his jaw clenched. With a final, hate-filled glare, he storms towards the stairs, and, like a sulking teenager, stomps upward in a whirlwind of fury. The slam of his bedroom door reverberates throughout the house.

But the human is still here. He is still safe. August hasn’t failed entirely.

An exhausted breath escapes August’s lips. He isn’t used to this, the vulnerability of sharing his haven and bearing the weight of responsibility for another life. A knot of unease tightens in his gut. These forced close quarters may at least offer him a chance to ease the human’s fear and earn a crumb of forgiveness, but August can’t help but wonder – will they be able to bridge the chasm between predator and prey?

This is going to be a long couple of days…

---

@octopus-reactivated @whatwasmyprevioususername @ramadiiiisme @darkthingshappen @whumpsday @thecyrulik @t0rture-me @redwhump @the-cryptid-finch @snowstuffscuff @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @wolfeyedwitch @interdimensional-chaos @termsnconditions-apply @whump-blog @leyswhumpdump @not-a-space-alien @onlybadendings @darlingwhump @sparrowsage @flynnswhumpprompts @whumpcereal @wolves-and-winters @ashh-ed @idkmansomeusername @whuarri @33-sdtr-45 @pigeonwhumps @canislycaon24 @the-whumpers-grimm @damienxozmoze @predacon-skydrift @morning-star-whump @neverthelass @espresso-depresso-system @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @androgynousqueenie @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @kadeee00 @that-one-small-world @doodlepoodle154 @sodacreampuff @cupcakes-and-pain @topsheepstudent @mylovelyme @anonfromcanada @astrokea @turn-the-tables-on-them

#shattered #lucas slater oc #august crinamorte oc #vampire caretaker #bloodbag whumpee #defiant whumpee #whump #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #captivity #blood mention #vomit mention #whumper #forced to be whumper

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logicaltips · 1 year

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To be strong (Barbara)

What if during the Imposter AU, the only ones who refuse to believe that the Creator is an Imposter were the weakest characters in lore? Luckily for the Creator, they still have the ability to change their artifacts...

"Barbara! Why are you defending the heretic?! Step away from them immediately!" Jean yelled from the bottom of the church steps as the rest of the Knights surrounded the deaconess and the one she called the true Creator.

"Big sister, please!" Barbara begged. "The creator has blessed you too with their presence! I'm sure that you can see that they're-"

"All I see is a fool who dares to mock the great Creator by wearing their holy face! Kaeya! Restrain her! I will deal with the heretic myself!"

As swords were drawn, Barbara's legs shook from fear. How could she, a mere deaconess, protect her Grace from such betrayal? Although Barbara herself has been blessed many times by the Creator themselves, her role was that of a healer!

There was no way for her to stand up to the might of the Knights, many of which have been blessed too!

"Charge attack."

Barbara turned to the Creator, who was, for some reason, moving their hands through the air, as if they were scrolling down a list of something. With a clap of their hands, the Creator gave Barbara an affirming look.

"Done. Do it!"

As her sister closed in, Barbara summoned her catalyst, drew as much power from her vision as she could, and-

Despite Jean's pleas for a proper punishment, the ever so kind Creator waved off her treasonous acts. After all, she already had enough on her plate dealing with the sudden influx of water damage reports that rang throughout the city, as well as a complete reconstruction of the Anemo Archon statue, which found itself washed all the way to the front gates.

Meanwhile, the idol of Mondstadt, now a hero, found herself at the forefront of the nation's praise, and more importantly, had the great pleasure of hosting a concert together with her Grace.

#sagau #self aware genshin #imposter sagau #jean gunnhildr #barbara pegg #barbara genshin #barbara gunnhildr

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waltzingwithspirit · 8 months

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PICK A CARD: MANIFEST YOUR DESIRES---BIG MAGICIAN ENERGY!!

Left: 111; Right: 333

Disclaimer:

🪈Disclaimer in highlights applies here

🪈Take what resonates and leave the rest

🪈No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances

🪈All personal readings are paid. DM to book a personal tarot session.

🪈Thank you for letting me read for you, it has been a pleasure.

🌸111🌸

To manifest your desires, use beauty. While you are showering, doing skin care and dressing up for the day, use affirmations. Even if it isn’t a fancy outfit or you would rather stay home. Still, dress up, you don’t need a reason, just dress for life, get ready for the day. If you are preparing breakfast, present it beautifully. I am seeing you should clean your room and re-arrange it an a different way, or even your home if you have the time. When you are reading or writing or just relaxing, put on candles and create a vibe. Weather it is jamming to music with led - lights, or something else, give into the beauty of things. Romanticize your life, give yourself roses for no reason and you’ll see your desires coming true. Butterflies are a sign you are on the path.

For some- you have a dream of dominating the beauty industry- you need to study more, research more.

COMMENT ‘111’ to manifest this!

Thank you for letting me read for you, it has been a pleasure.

🌙To find your specific way of manifestation, DM for a personal tarot reading 🌙

🥀333🥀

To manifest your desires, surrender to complete healing. Be open to the loving, compassionate forces of the universe that support your physical, emotional and spiritual healing. Watch the sunrise and the sunset, its great if you can watch both. You need a serotonin boost. Just silent walks in the sun for 10 mins can do the trick, even better if you have a walking partner who cracks you up, laughter is your catalyst. And always remember: YOU ARE THE MEDICINE. All you need is to allow the healing to take place, rest is taken care of.

COMMENT ‘333’ to manifest this!

Thank you for letting me read for you, it has been a pleasure.

🌙To find your specific way of manifestation, DM for a personal tarot reading 🌙

EL TAROT

#pick a picture #pick a pile #pac reading #pick an image #ask response #pick a card reading #pac tarot #pick a photo #pick a card #free tarot

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songforeddiemunson · 1 month

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Haunting in Blackwood Hollow Part 2

An Eddie Munson x F!Reader Miniseries

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Eddie and reader check into a rented house in the Appalachian woods, joined by Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin. Unfortunately for our gang, things in Blackwood Hollow are never as they appear.

Tropes: established relationship, Jonathan x Nancy, no mention of the events from ST, smut, comedy, fluff, scares, bit of whump (but nothing too crazy)

Series Warnings: Swearing, drinking and weed use, sexual and scary situations, minors please DNI.

Chapter Two: Fool Me Once

Chapter warnings: naughty language, mentions of drinking, weed use. Smut, p in v sex, bit rough (you like it) wrap it before you tap it. Spooky situations

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the smut inspo, @hiscrimsonangel (with this post haha iykyk)

Word Count: ~3K

PART ONE

You stayed up quite late that first night catching up with your old friends, drinking cans of pilsner or oversweet margarita mix from sticky solo cups, laughing your asses off, the ouija board forgotten and back in its box. No longer a big fan of heavy drinking yourself, you cut yourself off after just a few drinks, preferring the more mellow buzz of herb than bubbles.

Jonathan got quite drunk, which was a riot, and his friendly ribbing of Steve always increased in that state, to the delight of everyone in the room. Despite Steve’s history with Nancy (and subsequently Jonathan), the three of them managed to become great friends.

Robin bemoaned what she referred to as her perpetual spinsterhood, making you all laugh; “I don’t think you can legally call yourself a spinster at 23,” Steve said. “Just enjoy not being tied down yet,” he finished, causing the rest of the room to tease him for projecting, considering he couldn’t seem to find his one-and-only either (but he pretended he didn’t mind, fooling nobody).

Steve dated plenty, but Robin struggled with it more than he did for obvious reasons. The two of them were roommates for a time in Indianapolis before going their separate ways. The catalyst; one of Steve’s hookups once implied she would like Robin to join them in the bedroom, which horrified them both so much they ultimately got separate places but still lived on the same block. Robin managed a coffee shop and spoke about her wish to try out for the Indianapolis Philharmonic, which thrilled her but made her so nervous she became nauseated whenever she thought about it for too long. Steve had been employed as a junior high school basketball coach for the past year and decided he would like to go back to school for academic sports; he loved working with the kids.

Nancy filled in the group regarding her grad school studies at Columbia University in New York City for journalism. It was hard work but, true to form, Nancy was excelling, and she had a bright future in print journalism in the city. Jonathan had relocated to be with her and was working as a freelance photographer when he wasn’t working in the kitchen of a popular Brooklyn restaurant. He had ultimately decided not to pursue college and chose to support Nancy instead, thinking that would be the best chance for them as a couple. It caused a lot of friction at first, with Nancy initially pushing Jonathan to go to college, but they were able to work through it and had come out stronger.

After high school Eddie had tried his hand at being a musician, mechanic, bartender and assorted other odd jobs with limited success, and ultimately decided to attend vocational school to become a tattoo artist, which was truly his calling. All the doodles he made for Corroded Coffin and the Hellfire Club paid off, and he was one of the most sought-after ink artists in St. Louis, earning enough for the two of you to live in a nice apartment, despite your modest salary as an administrative assistant for a dentist’s office.

You were all thriving, and it was wonderful to celebrate each other’s successes. The wedding rehearsal was the following evening, and you looked forward to catching up with the younger kids there– “kids” who were all legal adults by this time; a fact that none of you could believe nor enjoyed thinking about. You were all relieved that you weren’t staying with them, despite the less than ideal location in which you found yourselves; those kids were like a pack of ferrets on cocaine, especially when they were all together. It would be too much, so you stuck with your own age bracket.

Finally, around two in the morning, Robin decided to turn in. Nancy and Jonathan followed about fifteen minutes later, leaving you and Eddie alone with Steve.

You stretched and yawned. “I think it’s time for bed. You coming Eddie?”

Eddie waggled his eyebrows at you. “I don’t know, am I?” he asked, his voice dripping with hyperbolic innuendo.

You laughed and gave him a smack on his tightly bedenimed rear end. “Just get moving, Munson.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted, while Steve rolled his eyes.

It turns out that mercifully, someone did actually change the sheets.

A blessing, honestly, considering you were currently tangled up in them, with the sharp bones of Eddie’s pelvis almost painfully pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs. The bed, old and squeaky with a metal frame that resembled something out of a cold war era prison, was a loud testament to the rhythm of your sex. You couldn’t be bothered to care much, since it felt incredible. The few cans of PBR you had chugged didn’t hurt either.

Eddie had you pinned to the mattress, caged between his arms as he nuzzled and suckled your neck, punctuating soft kisses with nips that would surely leave a mark. You enjoyed it like this sometimes, when he would manhandle you just a bit, claiming you, marking you, and fucking you roughly into the mattress. Sure, there was a time and place for soft lovemaking, but sometimes, you just wanted to be nailed.

“Feel so good baby,” he murmured into your ear, barely more than an exhalation, most of his efforts being concentrated on slamming his cock into your depths. You could barely do more than wiggle and squeal with the way he had you immobilized, which seemed to heighten every sensation. Even his breathy little grunts and gasps were sending you into the stratosphere. You clawed at his back, and the resulting moan in your ear helped bring on climax number three, and you bit into Eddie’s shoulder to stifle your cries.

Eddie’s pace began to falter, and he grasped your waist roughly with his fingers as he shuddered and thrust to his own completion, ending with a final grind of his hips against your sensitive clit, making you yelp. “Ha,” he burst triumphantly; he could be a cocky shit when it came to the pleasures he could draw out of you. He also wasn’t wrong.

After a tender kiss, Eddie rolled off of you and retrieved his boxers from the floor, sliding them on before fumbling around on the bedside table for his smokes. He lay back down with his back propped up against the pillow, lighting a cigarette and sighing contentedly. He looked at you and grinned.

“You think everyone heard us?”

You chuckled. “I don’t see how they couldn’t,” you said, as you dressed in a tank top and sweatpants. “This bed is so squeaky, it almost wasn’t worth even trying to be quiet.”

Eddie laughed. “You sound so cute though when you try,” he said as he flicked his ash into the ashtray on his nightstand. “All squeaky and whiny,” he finished with a wink.

“How dare you,” you joked. “I’m a vision of propriety.”

“Properly fucked, you mean.”

“Eddie!” you scolded, laughing.

“I’ll take it back when it stops being true darlin.’”

“You’re the worst,” you countered.

“You love me,” he said.

“Dammit, you’re right, I do,” you said. You bent to kiss him, and as you pressed your lips to his, you felt him smile.

“I love you too babe,” he said.

It was incredible, how he could still make your heart beat faster after all this time.

You headed into the ensuite bathroom and started to go through your usual bedtime routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face. You were suddenly struck by how exhausted you were; between traveling, cleaning, drinking (and smoking) and some vigorous sex, you were thoroughly spent. You glimpsed through the open bathroom door that Eddie had picked up his paperback of Needful Things, and was reading it by the light of the table lamp.

You clicked off the bathroom light and were just about to exit when something caught your eye out of the window. You peered closer to the thick glass to get a better look.

There was someone standing below on the lawn.

You couldn’t make out any details, but you had the sudden, hair-raising sense that whoever it was was looking right at you.

You jumped backward in alarm. "Eddie!” you shouted.

He was out of bed and by your side in an instant. “What?! A rat? Why are you standing in the dark, babe?” He peered around the room intently.

“No, down there!” You pointed out the window, down onto the grass, but now the figure was gone. “But…but it was there a second ago…”

Eddie bent to the glass for a closer look, brows furrowed. "I don’t see anything. What was it?“

"A person! They were definitely standing down there. And babe– I swear it was looking at me.”

A look of intense wariness crossed his features, and he straightened, all business. "Are you sure?“

"Yes! It was right there!”

“Stay here.” He was out of the bathroom like a shot. He quickly pulled on his flannel pajama pants and strode from the bedroom. You waited with your heart in your throat as you heard the front door below you creak open. You watched out the window as Eddie came into view on the lawn, carrying a fireplace poker in one hand. He clicked on a flashlight and began to sweep the property with it. It was late, and the shadows from the trees that peppered the property created long ribbons of darkness across the grass that the lights from the house were unable to penetrate. You realized that it must have been difficult for Eddie to see out there, even armed with a flashlight, and you broke into gooseflesh at the thought.

Screw this, I’m not leaving him alone out there, you thought to yourself, and left the bathroom. Eddie hadn’t turned on any of the lights in his wake, and in the darkness the house had taken on an even more sinister quality than when you had arrived. You tried to push it out of your mind, dismissing it as the aftershock from your scare. It permeated regardless, with a nearly palpable weight. You hurried downstairs and toward the front door, clicking on lights as you went. The downstairs area was deserted; everyone else must have also turned in. You quickly scanned the entry area for a weapon, finding only an umbrella. It would have to do.

You stepped outside, eyes sweeping the lawn for Eddie, hearing only crickets as you peered into the trees. In the moments since you had taken your eyes off of him he had disappeared from view. Your heart was pounding and your breath misted around you in the chilly night air. You crept forward slowly, and you found that your eyes were having difficulty adjusting to the darkness. The shadows were too inconsistent. Anyone could be watching me from those trees and I’d never know it, you thought. Dammit babe, where did you go?

“Babe?” you called softly. Silence. “Eddie,” you called again, a little louder this time. Was that a twig snapping?

“What?” said a voice, from directly behind you.

You squeaked with fright and whirled, striking out with the umbrella. "Ow, what the fuck?!“ Eddie bent forward, clutching his head.

"Oh my fucking god Eddie! You scared me!”

He rubbed his head in irritation where you had whacked him, mussing up his curls. “What are you doing out here? I asked you to stay inside!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t just stand there waiting for you. Are you alright?” you stood on your toes to get a better look at your boyfriend’s scalp, but thankfully there was no blood.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, then sighed resignedly. "I didn’t see anything in front, so I circled round the back to be sure. There’s nothing out here that I can see. Are you sure you saw someone?“

"Positive.”

“Your eyes couldn’t have been playing tricks on you?”

“Edward,” you said, your voice taking on an acerbic tone. “You know I’m not prone to hysterics.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, and hugged you to him. "Maybe it was Steve or something.”

“If it was, where is he now? I didn’t see anyone when I came downstairs.”

Eddie could only shrug at that.

Once back inside, he bolted the front door. "Seems solid,” he said. He went around the house and checked to be sure all the windows and the back door were locked, and when he was satisfied, you went back to the bedroom together. As you passed Jonathan and Nancy’s room, Jonathan opened the door and poked his head out, his hair mussed and sticking up in every direction.

“Someone scream?” he mumbled blearily.

“Eddie saw a spider, go back to bed,” you said. Eddie shot daggers at you with his eyes, but a slight upward curl of his lips belied his irritation. Jonathan only nodded and closed his door.

Back in your own room, you undressed and crawled under the covers, snuggling up to Eddie.

It was quiet for a moment, but the wheels in your mind were still turning. “Maybe it was just a local cutting across the lawn on the way somewhere. They may not be used to the house being occupied,” you offered.

"Maybe,” Eddie replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Will the light bother you if I read for a while?” he asked.

“Not at all,” you said. "Going to sleep with the light on will be okay with me tonight.”

The following morning you shuffled downstairs for breakfast, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your housemates warmed up the oatmeal or ate the boxed cereals that Nancy helpfully supplied the previous evening.

“Did anyone see or hear anything strange last night?” you asked the group as you poured yourself a cup of hot coffee.

“I think I did,” Steve began. “Some sort of instrument I think. What was that Robin?”

“Bedsprings,” Robin stated simply as she swallowed a bite of peaches ‘n cream flavored oatmeal, looking the worse for wear.

“Uh, besides that,” you said, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. Eddie laughed.

“Don’t hate,” he said.

“I heard Eddie scream at a spider,” Jonathan said, and this time it was your turn to laugh.

“It was NOT me, and it was not a fucking spider!” Eddie yelled, offended by the notion.

“No,” you said, quelling your giggles. “It was actually me. I– I thought I saw someone outside last night, watching me when I was getting ready for bed.”

Steve sat forward, suddenly wide awake. “Wait, really?”

You nodded. “Eddie went out to look for whoever it was but he didn’t find anything.”

“Oh shit,” Robin said, “that’s the last thing I needed to hear. Can we go to a hotel now?”

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” Nancy said. “Maybe it was just a local?”

“The nearest neighbors are a quarter mile away,” you said.

“I dunno,” Jonathan chimed in, “you hear stories about cannibals living in the woods in Appalachia…”

“That’s a gross stereotype,” Robin scolded.

“Feel free to ignore him,” Nancy said with a sigh.

“My mom was from Appalachia!” Eddie spat.

“Okay, nevermind,” Jonathan said, as he shrank down in his seat and went back to his oatmeal.

“Well if it wasn’t a local, what could it have been?” Steve asked.

“Maybe messing with the ouija board woke something up,” Robin said, and though you normally didn’t place much stock in those things, you felt something akin to an ice cold finger trail down your spine. You shivered.

Steve chuckled. “You can’t be serious.”

“No really!” Robin cried defensively. “In the movie Witchbo–”

“I am not using a shitty 80s horror film as a guidebook!” Steve shouted.

“Whatever,” Robin said. “If you guys get murdered by an evil axe-wielding ouija spirit, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You laughed it off along with everyone else, yet the idea wouldn’t leave you. It was unsettling, to put it mildly.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was studying your expression. You did always wear your emotions on your sleeve, and he could sense your unease.

“So,” Eddie said. "What’s everyone wearing to the wedding?"

His umber eyes slid over to yours as the conversation devolved into fashion and hairstyling chatter.

Thank you, you mouthed to your boyfriend, and his Mona Lisa smile wordlessly said, I’ve got you. And he did, that much you would never be unsure about. Regardless of what was happening in your life, Eddie Munson would always have your back, which made you feel very lucky indeed.

You didn’t know it yet, but it was a sentiment you would come to rely upon much more in the days to come.

To Be Continued...

More is coming! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer!

MASTERLIST

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #stranger things fic #stranger things series

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hellish-sunsets · 2 months

Text

Curses and Blessings - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9

Summary:

Charlie lapsed into silence, but he didn’t notice. All he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears. He tried to think, but the thoughts didn’t come, the words wouldn’t form on his tongue. It was an eternity and an instant.

When he did finally think, the only thought was that it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

(Basically, Lucifer has a break down for a whole chapter. Bone apple tea)

Word count: 1493

Read on AO3

Taglist ~

@cherry-4200 @adaizel @kyo-kyo1 @elleofdragons @snoozewritezz

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

It had been a very long day.

The sound of boots clacking against the polished wood floors filled the hallway, each click echoing in Lucifer’s head. He counted each step as he went, matching every five steps with a deep breath.

It had been a very long day, but if he could just keep it together until he got to his room then it would be okay. Just keep it together a little longer, he could see the door.

Deep breath in, one, two, three, four, five steps, deep breath out.

His hand closed around the doorknob, the cold of the metal seeping through his glove, the gloves that seemed to itch more the longer they stayed on. The door opened and closed with a click and he pressed his back against the wood, letting out a long, shaky breath. Then another. Then his was tearing those damn gloves off, rubbing at his wrist and arm, staring down at his mark.

It had been a good day, everything considered. Yeah, he was anxious about Charlie’s meeting with the angels, but… he had his Charlie back. That was enough to overcome anything. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face or the joy that swelled in his chest. It was all worth it to have his daughter back. Yeah, they still had a lot of work ahead of them. He would have to fight his depression hard and constantly if he wanted this to work, but he would, he had to. He could not go back to that dark place, not again.

His hand tightened around his wrist as his thoughts shifted, his smile faltering.

Then there was that woman.

It was nothing, he told himself as he tore his hat off of his head. You're just overthinking everything again. He couldn’t let the hope sink it, it would only hurt, and he knew the likelihood was just too small. He didn't even see the full mark, just a glimpse under her sleeve. The colors must have just been similar is all. Yeah, it wasn’t actually a match, couldn’t. His mark was nothing more than a Ipunishment, a constant false hope that tore him apart and a catalyst to tear down every relationship he worked so hard for.

But he got Charlie back.

At least in that one way he won against his curse, even if just this once.

His head snapped up as he was broken out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone, that circus music that almost cheered him up. He was quick to grab it from his pocket and answer, smiling wide and walking across the room to the bed.

“Hey, Char! How you doing, sweetie? You got all the information for the meeting I texted you?” He said in his usual cheerful voice, shaking off the sleeves of his coat and dropping it on the chair before flopping down on the side of his large bed, he frowned at the large amount of empty space, but forced a smile back on his face as he listened to Charlie.

“Yep, I got all the details! Thank you so much, Dad!”

“Anytime, Charlie. I’ll do anything to help you out, you just let me know.”

“Yeah, but, um… I had something important to tell you. I didn't get the chance to tell you earlier cause, you know, we were all pretty busy and distracted and stuff. I wanted to talk to you in person, but I also want to tell you as soon as possible.”

Lucifer frowned, catching a hint of anxiety and worry in her voice. He sat up, crossing his legs underneath him and resting his elbows on his legs.

“Yeah? What's that?” He did what he could to keep his voice light and unworried.

“Ah, well… are you sitting down?”

He nodded before remembering she couldn't see him and grimacing. “Yep, sure am! What's on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Okay, okay, you remember when I introduced you to everyone at the hotel, right?”

“Yep!”

He struggled to keep his voice even and his breathing steady. His heart raced in his chest. He didn’t dare hope, but it crept into his heart, squeezing painfully.

“You remember Y/N, right?”

He swallowed thickly.

“Of course, she was lovely. Uh… may I ask why?”

He knew why - No! He didn't. It was something else, it had to be something else. It felt like his mark was itching, but rubbing did nothing to soothe it. He held the phone between his ear and shoulder to dig his claws in, and that helped a bit, but he told himself to go no farther.

“Weeelllllll, we wash the dishes together every night, which means I see her mark all the time, cause it's on her wrist, you know.”

He forcefully removed his hand from his wrist, watching the thin line of blood run over the sunset colors. He took a deep breath, forcing his hand to grasp the phone instead.

“... Dad, I don’t know the best way to say this, and I know you have complicated feelings about your mark, and so does she, but… I feel it’s important to let you know. It’s.. the same as yours. Exactly.”

When he did finally think, the only thought was that it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

He took another deep breath, and his hearing came rushing back with Charlie’s worried voice.

“... you okay? Dad?”

“Y-yeah, sorry, I, uh… what did you say? I must have misheard.” He tried to chuckle and push down the anxiety. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. His mark was a curse, he had already accepted that. She was either joking or didn’t see it right or…

“I said Y/N has your mark! I… I know you don’t really like yours, but I just thought you’d want to know.”

He swallowed hard.

“Ah, well, thank you, Charlie, I appreciate it.” He said, voice shaking a bit more than he would like. “Good luck with your meeting, okay? Let me know how it goes.”

“I… okay Dad. I love you.”

Despite his mind currently going through whatever meltdown it was going through, he couldn’t help but smile, his chest tightening with love.

“I love you too, Charlie.” He said with the softest voice filled with all the love and warmth he could muster and he imagined he could hear Charlie smiling back as she said bye and hung up on him.

With a sigh he fell back onto the bed, hands going to run through his hair, staring at the canopy above him.

Of course Charlie wasn’t joking. They had been distant for a while, but he still knew her well enough. She always took this whole thing about marks very seriously. She had been practically jumping up and down as she introduced her match to him, the girl… Maggie? Haggie? Something like that. And he could tell at the time that there was something more she had wanted to say.

His mind was wandering again. What is really that hard for him to just accept this was possible? That all this time, after seven years of aching loneliness and longer of debilitating depression, there was finally the slightest glimpse of hope?

Even if, despite everything in his mind and everything he had ever experienced told him, by some far fetched miracle Charlie was right… what was he supposed to do? What would he even say?

What about Lilith? He knew she had left, that she wasn’t coming back… but he still loved her. It hurt, like his heart was being crushed every night she wasn’t there, but he couldn’t help it. He loved her and he missed her. He would give anything just to see her again, to gaze into those beautiful eyes that were once filled with so much love, to hear her sweet voice as she spoke about anything she felt like, to feel the warmth of her body against his. If Charlie was right and this woman, this sinner, was the one who held the match to his mark… then had Lilith been right? Had they never been meant for each other after all? That all those thousands of years they had loved each other meant nothing?

No. He refused to ever accept such a thing.

He groaned in frustration, hands tugging at his hair before sliding down to cover his face.

So what was he supposed to do? What did this all mean? What was the point of any of this?

Not for the first time, he found himself cursing that stupid being who started all this mess.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #reader insert #curses and blessings #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin lucifer x reader #soulmate au #hazbin hotel soulmate au #lucifer x reader soulmate au

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fumifooms · 7 months

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Laimar crumbs

I wanted to compile all my laimar/marios crumbs to be able to look back at them whenever~ These are CRUMBS and I’m not arguing that all these moments were intended romantically, I have my shipping goggles on and picking every moment I think is meaningful and shippy for these two. I'm probably gonna have to split this in parts because it's gonna get long. Part 2 link

Content warning: spoilers for ALL of the Dungeon Meshi manga! Also blood & corpses in passing

They are so repressed aghhhh. I could go on forever about how Marcille is special to Laios because she was Falin’s first friend and was the only one to follow him into the dungeon for Falin and not the job, how from the get go they were linked by something more than work and that made him feel more comfortable with her. But my Laimar thesis is essentially: they are so sickeningly-sweet domestic and complementary. Their charm lies in their old couple "we’ll argue over what to have for dinner" familiarity with each other, having 0 filter. And also they’re funny together.

They’re so domestic… The way she touches him so fondly and easily and she helps him out of his armor 😭💕 How used is she to disrobing Laios that it's such a no-brainer action for her?

Which, touching is something she does easily without being embarrassed or deeper meaning, which is mostly due to the nature of being a healer beside her affectionate touchy-feely personality (that we can especially see when she interacts with Falin or Chilchuck), but that isn’t true at all for Laios, who we see is very awkward when it comes to touching someone.

Isn’t it so very interesting how Marcille being happy and not lonely aka her wish being fulfilled is the thing that makes Laios react here? The last thing he offers before Winged Lion goes like “it seems you’ve made up your mind~” in the next page.

I've already pointed out Marcille's smile being a special thing to Laios here but it bears being posted here again.

Laios has a "I want to learn more about Marcille face" that he does with no one else just saying.

Laios is always the one she instinctively clings to.

Imagine intimately knowing someone’s worst fear and having comforted them in a moment of pure naked weakness and that instance having had such a profound impact that it subconsciously affects them and their decision making. Laios truly was Marcille’s therapy dog. Pet the dog and fears will fly out

I am SCREAMING why is Marcille the one sitting right next to Laios?? His sister just got revived and Marcille is STILL sitting closer? She’s so right hand man coded they are so partners. I’m just saying having her sit right next to him at his right all the time is so <33 For a series like Dungeon Meshi all about eating metaphors and the importance of sharing a meal? To share that meal with her at his closest?? While Chilchuck and the rest of the party have their own lives in Laios' ideal world conjured up by the Winged Lion, besides Falin Marcille is the one shown to work in close quarters with him <3 It's his ideal world and he wants her to be there to support and help him daily, help... I’m planning to make a post on just that but for now:

They’ve been hinted to be complementary on a planning level so many times. Imagine the country they’ll make together fr!

Them both wanting to stay in the dungeon kingdom, looking like king and queen <3

Not Laios baiting Marcille with him finding her cute omfg.

Laios is the one who wordlessly takes charge of caring for sick Marcille and feeding her.

I could put the whole 96 bit of Laios being all sheepish asking Marcille to stay with him, going up to elfic authorities and telling them "Mine." with Marcille under his cape as his FIRST show of kingly authority (which could represent how Marcille is a good catalyst/motivation for Laios growing more comfortable in his shoes & role and being willing to truly chase something, instead of wandering and hiding his true self. She gives him courage). Honestly the first time I read it I was almost expecting him to propose when he dragged her into the forest holy shit. He's so cute and uncomfortable with showing affection or interest help, Marcille meanwhile the gossip romantic soul of the party being totally oblivious. More on this scene in part 2!!!!!

I ALSO could rant AGAIN about the whole Marcille is Laios’ succubus aka "most alluring form" thing but that’s a complex issue and I go in depth into it in this post

In conclusion they're soulmates both platonic and romantic no one can change my mind. They are so similar. They are so opposite. Laios flees from intimacy and she chases it. They are insecure. They kick ass. They unquestionably love each other, wether it be platonic or otherwise. They get on each other's case. They value each other's input and skills.

#dungeon meshi #laimar #marios #shipping crumbs #masterpost #fumi rambles #i do be a laimar truther but i got nothing but respect for any other shipper ofc. hi farcilles i love u guys don't kill me #some of these points i might repost separatedly bc some people highly prefer short posts. Gotta spread laimar propaganda

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antianakin · 2 months

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Antianakin's Second Anti-Anakin/Pro-Jedi Fic Rec List

Same general idea as the first one, this rec list is dedicated to fics that are critical of Anakin Skywalker. That can mean anything from just emphasizing that the Jedi's philosophies are right even if it means Anakin is wrong, to killing Anakin off in the most gruesome (and probably cathartic) way possible as a consequence for his choices. Since I know there are differing levels of feelings towards Anakin in the people that follow me, I'm going to add in some new helpful terms and redefine the categories slightly. Please note that these are MY personal interpretations of the fics, not the authors' stated intentions.

Helpful terms:

Unfinished - Any fic that is marked as incomplete, or a series where the fic(s) in it are still incomplete and cannot stand alone.

Ongoing - Any series marked as incomplete, but the fics in it are marked as complete or can stand alone as they are.

Critical - The fic critiques Anakin's philosophies and choices, but allows for more sympathy towards his character and situation should the reader desire it.

Anti - The fic specifically presents Anakin in a very negative way without any sympathy for him or his choices.

Anakin/Consequences: Anakin experiences consequences for his actions, but does not die. These fics can be anywhere between "critical" to fully "anti" depending on the author's take.

Spoiler Alert, He Doesn't Make It: Anakin experiences the specific consequence of dying. These fics will likely all fall under the definition of "anti" as opposed to just "critical."

The Galaxy Deserved Better: Focus of the story is more on characters' reactions to Anakin's choices or using other characters and their relationships to critique Anakin's choices in canon. None of these fics will be "anti" Anakin probably, since the critique of Anakin is at best a catalyst for the rest of the story.

I've had people ask me how to FIND more anti-Anakin fics, so here's my tips:

Look at your favorite authors' bookmarks. If you like something someone wrote, chances are they like reading the same stuff you do.

There's always the option of looking into tags, but I've found that very few people actually use "anti" tags on fanfiction, so your best bet is to look into pro Jedi/Jedi appreciation tags as much as possible, and the ones that are truly pro Jedi are often also critical of Anakin simply by design (if he shows up at all).

A lot of these fics take things like the Tusken massacre, Order 66, and Anakin's treatment of Padme, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and the clones very seriously. Please take that as a warning if any of those things might be triggering, and keep an eye on the tags for all of the fics included here just in case.

There is no specific order to this. I tried to group fics from one specific author together, but other than that, I didn't place anything in any specific position for a reason.

This is not an exhaustive list of good anti-Anakin fics that exist, obviously. If your fic or your favorite fic isn't on this list, please feel free to rec it yourself in the notes, leave a reply or reblog with a link. I'm happy to read more anti-Anakin fic, especially if it's very Pro-Jedi!

One final reminder: NOTHING IN THIS LIST IS ANAKIN FRIENDLY! That means it's likely not going to be friendly to Anakin specific ships either, particularly Obikin and Anidala. If that's going to bother you to read, please just skip this entire list, it's not for you.

Anakin/Consequences

Blood-born Memories by Siderea (anti, 725):

Quinlan touches Obi-Wan's robe after his "assassination" by Rako Hardeen and ends up picking up some memories and emotions from Anakin that give him some heart-breaking revelations about Anakin's true nature.

Technically this one ends just before any real consequences and so the consequences are more implied, but I love the way Quinlan reacts to the revelations he has in this fic. Quinlan is so obviously horrified by it and heartbroken on Obi-Wan's behalf, but also strong enough as a Jedi to know what he needs to do now. He's already grieving his friend, but he has to set all of that aside to deal with this now more important issue. This fic is supremely unlikely to ever get any follow-up, but thinking about how Obi-Wan would deal with this development upon coming back from his stint undercover is delightfully angsty.

Malfunctions & Mutiny by BitterChocolateStars (anti, 6k):

Obi-Wan loses on Mustafar, but Anakin takes him prisoner and proceeds to kill Palpatine and make Padme Empress. He puts Cody in charge of guarding Obi-Wan, and one day Cody's chip breaks when Anakin tortures Obi-Wan. Cody starts working on an escape plan for everyone, Jedi and clone alike.

The nice thing about fics post Order 66 from clone perspectives is that Anakin tends to be represented as an unforgivable monster and little else. Cody's priority is saving everybody he can and getting them as far away as possible, so he's not interested in trying to understand or sympathize with Anakin when it doesn't serve his purposes. One of the things I really like in this fic is the way we see Rex and Ahsoka react to the revelation of Anakin's betrayal. Ahsoka takes it a lot better than she does in canon, but we get a nice sort-of outsider perspective of Rex struggling with believing it until he doesn't have any other choice and the way this impacts his relationship with Cody.

The Temple vs Order 66 by LauraBWrites (anti, 4k):

The Temple has become semi-sentient over the years and starts preparing to protect the Jedi in the eventuality that Anakin Skywalker fails.

The Temple itself being a character is really fun, and I quite loved the way it was almost arguing with the Force about Anakin and how to handle the growing darkness in him and the galaxy. I also really appreciated that, while Padme ultimately leaves Anakin behind, her selfish choices during the war aren't swept under the rug, either. I liked that it insists that Anakin is taken care of and not just left to rot, but that whether he gets better or not remains up to him. It doesn't matter how much therapy he's given by the Jedi, he has to choose to accept the help or it won't work.

For want of a horse, the rider was lost by LacieFuyu (critical, 19k):

Anakin doesn't get left in the dark about the Rako Hardeen mission and it goes disastrously as a result. Everyone has to live with the consequences of that choice.

This one takes place within the Rako Hardeen arc, but it does deal with the revelation of the Tusken Massacre and the Anidala marriage as well. There are a lot of truths being thrown at Anakin in this particular fic by the people around him who start to discover more of what he's done and who he truly is, most of whom choose not to sugarcoat anything for him. Several of the characters choose not to forgive Anakin for what he's done, even as some of them continue to work to help him figure out how to heal and get better. There is hope left for him at the end, but the consequences for him in this feel very real and substantial, it goes far beyond Anakin just having to live with what he's done. He loses a lot of the people he cared about, he loses certain privileges and ranks, and they leave open the possibility that he might have to face a pretty serious consequence for the Tusken Massacre from the Tuskens themselves. So while it's sympathetic, it takes Anakin's choices seriously, which I appreciate. I also liked seeing some of the ways other characters were dealing with their own pain and betrayal, the ways they were taking comfort from Jedi teachings and loved ones to heal in a more healthy way.

Spoiler Alert, He Doesn't Make It

here on the edge of silence, half afraid by Siderea (anti, 4k):

Pirate/Mer AU where Fox and the Guard work on Palpatine and Anakin's ship and Fox manages to kill Palpatine, causing Anakin to throw him overboard only for Mer!Obi-Wan to save him.

I like the development of Fox and Obi-Wan's relationship in this one, from some very understandable mistrust to attraction and the beginnings of a friendship. The glimpses we get into a wider world and a rebellion of sorts and how Obi-Wan being a merman fits into the Jedi still existing and fighting alongside the clones under Palpatine are SO tantalizing. Fox's opinion of Anakin is immensely low and Obi-Wan himself is far enough along from whatever betrayal Anakin committed in this AU that he is able to criticize Anakin's behavior and obsessions with people. Anakin never actually appears in this fic, he remains a far-away obstacle to be removed, and I love that for him.

The Galaxy Deserved Better:

Ahsoka is Mace's Padawan series by SkyeBean (ongoing, anti, 442k):

The title of the series speaks for itself for the most part, but this is an AU where Mace chooses Ahsoka to be his Padawan around a year prior to AOTC and it follows the various consequences of that change both to Ahsoka herself and to the galaxy at large. The first fic goes all the way through the end of the Clone Wars, but other fics in the series continue beyond that to at least the end of ROTJ and explore the impact of the Empire on the Jedi as they struggle to survive.

I made an entire separate post strictly about this series because it basically changed my brain chemistry for the week it took me to get through everything, and I know several other people have recc'd it in various lists, but I'm putting it here again for anyone who hasn't yet seen it because it's just that good and that worth it. This fic understands how to make Ahsoka develop and mature without making her some angel or goddess of light without flaws. It is BREATHTAKINGLY pro Jedi and especially pro Mace Windu. There's some really great exploration of Ahsoka's relationship to the clones both before and after Order 66 as well a lot of delightful diversity in her relationships to other Jedi. This fic does not pull punches with regards to Anakin, Padme, and Anidala, or the consequences of their choices. If you were disappointed in how the Ahsoka show treated her reaction to Anakin and his atrocities, this fic is the OPPOSITE of that.

After the War (Part the First) by KChan88 (critical, 7k):

Instead of Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda choose Quinlan to be the one who goes undercover during the Rako Hardeen arc. Obi-Wan, who has been in an off and on relationship with Quinlan since they were teenagers, reacts to the loss.

This is actually incredibly positive towards Anakin, but I'm leaving it in here as "critical" because pretty much any fic that has someone else reacting to the Rako Hardeen act is sort-of critical of Anakin's canon behavior by design, and the underlying issues that ultimately lead him to darkness. Obi-Wan reacts like a Jedi should, letting go when he believes Quinlan to be dead, and understanding when he has to face Quinlan after he knows it was a lie even as he is still angry at the circumstances putting Quinlan in that position in the first place (not the JEDI, just the war and the way it's forcing the Jedi to run themselves ragged and put themselves through the wringer). That anger gets acknowledged and accepted and Obi-Wan and Quinlan are shown to have an incredibly healthy relationship with each other that's incredibly sweet.

After the War (Part the Second) by KChan88 (critical, 6k):

Quinlan manages to catch up to Obi-Wan during his confrontation with Anakin during the Obi-Wan Kenobi show and the two have a reunion after things settle down on Tatooine.

Part of the same series as the above, this one lands more sympathetic towards Anakin than positive, since it's set post Order 66 and, for obvious reasons, it's pretty hard to be positive about what Anakin's done and what he's chosen to be at this point. But it's not unsympathetic, both Obi-Wan and Quinlan remember good times with Anakin, Obi-Wan has a line about having felt some kind of light in him during that last conversation they have in the show, and Quinlan makes comparisons to Anakin sounding like a scared and lonely little boy. So the critical aspect of it is relatively soft and minimal aside from the obvious references to his betrayal. Much like the fic above, I really love the way Obi-Wan and Quinlan's relationship is represented and the dynamic they have with each other.

Meet in the Middle by BilbosMom (critical, 9k):

Baby Luke and Leia are working on some Force shenanigans to try to find a way to speak to each other through a middle ground within the Force, but have trouble getting to each other on their own and end up recruiting Rex and Obi-Wan to help them.

This one is also pretty positive about Anakin in that it talks a lot about how Luke and Leia are going to save him by reminding him of how to love and things like that. I'm leaving it in here because it is also set post Order 66 and does reckon with the impact of that, especially on Rex who is finding out this betrayal for the first time, so it's hard not to end up at least a little critical just naturally. Anakin has done some particularly heinous shit and is still DOING some heinous shit. That remains true whether he can be saved in the future or not, whether he used to know how to love selflessly or not. I particularly like the structure in this one, the way it bounces back and forth between Obi-Wan's perspective with Leia and Rex's perspective with Luke. I like the way that Luke and Leia land sort-of wiser than their years due to their stronger connection to the Force but also still very much children who get impatient and annoyed with the adults around them.

scraps series by grumpyhedgehogs (critical, 9.5k):

Cody's chip fails when Obi-Wan dies on the Death Star and he goes searching for Rex and the Rebellion. He deals with his grief and guilt along the way.

Cody isn't Anakin's biggest fan, obviously, but both he and Rex acknowledge that Anakin USED to be a better person. The focus of the story is on Cody's relationship with Obi-Wan and how, even after he's died, that relationship still helps Cody move forward from his grief and find some measure of peace. I like the way Cody, Rex, and Ahsoka all connect over the different ways Obi-Wan had meant something to them and the ways he impacted their lives.

may you inherit his light by notbecauseofvictories (critical, 2.5k):

Leia reflects on her relationship to Bail Organa and the impact of his loss in the years after ROTJ.

Leia is also not Anakin Skywalker's biggest fan and dislikes that she inherited anything from him. I appreciated that Leia never forgave him in this. Even in the moment where she claims to wish he showed up, it's so she can rage at him for being the reason she ISN'T Bail Organa's daughter instead. It's a heart-wrenching story and dive into Leia's character, the ways her life at constant war have defined her as well as her experience as an adopted child who wanted nothing more than to have something physical to connect her to the family she loved and to make them proud. Mon Mothma saying Leia reminded her of Bail about made me cry.

Thank the Gods, I'm Not Alone by BitterChocolateStars (critical, 16k):

Obi-Wan and Rex from ten years post Order 66 both get sent back in time to the Clone Wars and work together to make sure it doesn't happen a second time.

Since Obi-Wan and Rex are primarily dealing with an Anakin who HASN'T betrayed the Jedi and the clones yet (depending on whether you count his marriage to Padme and his murder of the Tuskens a betrayal of the Jedi or not), they both have to figure out how to forgive this version of him that hasn't committed the crime they're angry about yet. He's the same person who DID go down that path before, but circumstances change enough to make different choices this time around. I appreciated the acknowledgment that it's okay to choose not to forgive the version of Anakin that DID make those choices, even as they recognize that it's not fair to hold this version of Anakin accountable for things he didn't do.

Gentle Welcome by Miandraden1 (critical, 1k):

Short and soft post-Rako Hardeen one shot where Obi-Wan reflects on Anakin's reaction to his stint undercover but gains comfort from the people who understand.

I love Obi-Wan discussing his worries about Anakin with Mace, it's such a nice call back to AOTC where he was more explicitly pushing back against the Council's decisions and had less faith in Anakin, whereas here he's so clearly trying to continue to have faith in Anakin's ability to grow and learn, even as he can tell Anakin's struggling. There's no lack of acknowledgment of Anakin's continued struggles, but there is a choice to continue to believe in him. I love how sweet the clones are in how they react to the Rako Hardeen deception, in some ways this is just another Tuesday for them, but Waxer explicitly leaving Obi-Wan a little gift he knows he'll like says something slightly different and it's adorable.

The Temple of Hope series by Zarz (ongoing, critical, 93k):

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and their battalions stumble across a very old Jedi Temple that reveals certain truths about both the Jedi and the clones and changes everything.

This one is also mostly about just forcing Anakin to face his own truths and fears while everybody else gets to make their way to a happy fix-it AU as a result. One of the tags on the first fic is "anakin skywalker faces consequences" but the primary consequence is just Anakin feeling bad about what he's done more than anything else. It's overall a sweet, soft, Force-sensitive Clones!AU with a lot of pro Jedi vibes to it.

"... if you remain his student" by Peppermint_Shamrock (critical, 4k):

The Wrong Jedi arc doesn't happen which leaves Ahsoka at the Temple during Order 66 and she was never going to be enough to save or stop Anakin.

To be perfectly honest at this point, this is the ending I'd have wanted for Ahsoka. It wouldn't have been able to happen in canon given she's not in ROTS, but like... this is probably one of the most impactful ways for her story to have ended (and one of the kindest, given how shitty her character has become). I love the way this fic insists that Ahsoka isn't enough, any more than Padme or Obi-Wan were, he'd have cut her down the same he did the others, no matter what he might have felt for her once or what she believed he felt for her.

Reversi by LacieFuyu (critical, 2.5k):

Anakin and Obi-Wan's roles are reversed in the Rako Hardeen arc and Anakin is startled by everyone's reactions to his deception.

This is yet another one that is critical by comparison to canon. Even Anakin himself acknowledges by the end of the fic that he's pretty sure he wouldn't be reacting this compassionately and calmly and reasonably if their positions were reversed, something we know to be true. There's also a small moment where Anakin begins to doubt his choices regarding the Tusken Massacre, but instead of actually reflecting on it, he buries the feeling all over again and chooses to learn nothing. It's very in character for Anakin.

#star wars #anti anakin #anti anakin skywalker #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #jedi #pro jedi #jedi culture respected #jedi appreciation #jedi culture appreciated #pro jedi council #jedi council respected #jedi council appreciated #fic #fic rec #anti anakin fic rec series

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aha-chuu · 1 year

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So many Kavetham thoughts

I wanted to discuss Alhaitham and Kaveh’s canonical relationship now that we know all of Kaveh’s character stories and voicelines. I will not be going into event or quest leaks since I have not seen them, so rest assured this is just the information from Kaveh’s profile.

Short summary: Alhaitham is two years Kaveh’s junior, and Kaveh befriended him out of curiosty, since so many people had a low opinion of him. Kaveh himself described Alhaitham as his “best friend” at this time, and when they met it was when Kaveh had just started living on his own for the first time (an arrangement he very much disliked, thinking of home as a “cold and lonely” place). They end up working on a project together along with several other scholars, but all but them gradually drop off as they cannot keep up with Alhaitham and Kaveh’s overwhelming intellect.

Kaveh attempts to help his peers, stretching himself very thin and burning out as he takes up their workload so that they do not fall behind. It actually reminds me of Alhaitham’s story quest, where the scholar doing all the work behind the scenes is unappreciated and eventually hits a breaking point, taking his own life. Before Kaveh can get to such a point, Alhaitham confronts him:

“ Kaveh maintained that Alhaitham was too much of an egoist, that he could be much better welcomed amongst people if he would just care about helping out more often. Alhaitham for his part pointed out that Kaveh's impractical idealism was just a flight from reality, and that it would come to be a burden on his existence someday, and the source of Kaveh's altruism was naught but his inescapable sense of guilt. “

And this is the beginning of the end. Alhaitham uncovers the reality that Kaveh’s altruism is not born of his selflessness, but instead out of guilt for feeling that he cannot inconvenience others the way he encourages others to inconvenience him. It is a cutting and blunt remark from Alhaitham, one that Kaveh cannot cope with:

“ Kaveh felt cut to the quick by someone who was his best friend. Alhaitham had seen through the reality that he had never been able to face, causing him to feel reality's bite for the first time “

And some people have pointed to this as the reason their relationship fell apart, that Alhaitham’s words were simply too severe and he ignored how they would make Kaveh feel. While it is true that Alhaitham does bluntly hurt Kaveh's feelings here, it took two people to split them apart - Kaveh's response is:

" Kaveh steadfastly declares that he regretted making friends with this all-too-intelligent person. The two parted ways in a single stroke. Alhaitham would remove his name from that thesis, while Kaveh would rip his copy of the thesis apart in a fury — only to put it back together with deep regret. He sensed that he would not be able to change his friend, with the reverse also being true. "

The nail in the coffin wasn't Alhaitham forcing Kaveh to face the reality of his life, but instead that was the catalyst for Kaveh declaring that he regretted his and Alhaitham's friendship. Considering Kaveh is Alhaitham's only friend (or at least, the friend through which he met all his other friends), I can only imagine how that would have felt. And ofc Alhaitham is an exceedingly rational person, but he does have feelings.

I thought that in their current relationship, Alhaitham had let go of most of his anger and Kaveh was the one still caught up in the past. After all, Alhaitham often seems teasing in his jabs, where Kaveh sounds more genuine. While this does still seem true to an extent, Alhaitham's line "where were you when Sumeru needed you most?" feels worse now we know that Kaveh was the one to renounce their friendship. They both were "abandoned" in a sense by all the people closest to them, but while that made Alhaitham reserved and self-reflective it made Kaveh cling on to those around him to avoid looking inward at himself.

And Alhaitham removing his name from the thesis, reflective of a clean break. Kaveh, on the other hand, tears it to shreds - he's spiralling, angry and guilty, but he also can't face the truths that Alhaitham exposed to him. It's important, imo, that Kaveh then repairs the thesis. I take that as an implication that he wants to repair their relationship, he just does not know how to.

This can also be seen in Kaveh’s voiceline ‘About Alhaitham - It’s Complicated’:

“ Alhaitham helped me out a fair amount recently. If we were still as close as we were during our student days, then I'd be thanking him every chance I got. Now, though... I can't seem get a word of appreciation out of my mouth. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction. I guess you could say our relationship is something of a mixed bag these days? Honestly, with everything that's happened, it almost feels like the universe has been playing pranks on us... It's hard to make sense of it all... too much to process for one lifetime. I will say that it's not every day that you get to know someone like him — I just wish he could rein in some of the worst excesses of his personality. Okay, yeah, that's never gonna happen. “

I don’t think I can express how closely this links Alhaitham and Kaveh together. It’s not just old friends with differences of opinion; they quite literally make up parts of one another.

The reference to the ‘universe’ is intriguing - while Kaveh is a romanticist who would use this flowery sort of language, in Genshin fate is a thing that plays a huge role. And his confession that it’s too much for a single life time, on top of the fact that their research project was on King Deshret (of whom Kaveh and Alhaitham share qualities)... I am not saying there is a reincarnation situation, but but Genshin often does use characters to reflect their historical figures.

In Alhaitham’s character stories, it’s revealed he considers Kaveh a mirror:

“ Kaveh is a familiar face, similarly lacks familial attachments, and is the polar opposite of [Alhaitham] as a scholar — that is to say, an excellent mirror “

and now Kaveh seems to agree, as this is from the end of his character story 5:

“ Rationality and sensibility, language and architecture, knowledge and human feelings... Things that can never be integrated are what constitute the two sides of the mirror — indeed, of the entire world. “

I made a whole other post about this after Kaveh’s drip marketing, but there’s even more now. One thing I personally find quite relevant is their attitudes towards other people; where Alhaitham is an extraordinarily self-reflective individual, Kaveh obsesses over the lives of others. He speaks about wish to “rein Alhaitham in” and an important part of his arc through his character stories is recognising that: “the most unshakable part of one's past is a friend that will never change”. Alhaitham, on the other hand, obsesses over looking inward at himself, claiming that that’s the reason he enjoys Kaveh living with him.

Why are they so different in this way? Simply put: Kaveh is afraid of looking inward, of self-reflection because of the guilt he’s held onto for so many years. He’s extroverted and personable, he has no issue constructing the fantasy of his life for other people to see him through. But Alhaitham can look past all of that, like Kaveh says he’s the only one who truly knows Alhaitham, Alhaitham is the only person who really understands Kaveh.

But Alhaitham isn’t perfect - he’s so focused on himself because he can’t handle others. He doesn’t understand; he can’t comprehend why Kaveh acts like he does even they he knows him so well, and talks a big game about how emotions and logic combine to create human intention/action, but Alhaitham himself falls short of ever really getting it. To him it’s all a formula to be followed - he can get to the correct answer, but he doesn’t know what to do with it.

Kaveh writes in his journal about the project he and Alhaitham undertook, and it goes as follows:

“ Page 31: Some academic notes and architectural drawings. Postscript: "Our views are aligned, and they are complete." This line has been struck out. "Our views are contradictory, but it is through contradiction that more speculation and philosophy may be born." This line has been retained. Page 42: The cover of a thesis that has been torn up, then put together again. No postscript. “

Between them, there is this push and pull. They are completely alike but then entirely different. I’m not even talking specifically from a shipping point of view, their relationship is based around the idea that they are two necessary parts of one whole. Unironically, they would make excellent dual grand sages.

I’m really glad that Kaveh’s character stories dove into their complexity while not sacrificing Kaveh’s individuality as a character. In fact, Alhaitham talks about Kaveh way more in his voicelines than vice versa - perhaps a sign that Alhaitham is more at peace with their relationship? Kaveh believes that “Alhaitham never did perform a good deed unconditionally“ but in the archon quest, Alhaitham claims that he “does not keep track of favours”.

I think Alhaitham was hurt by Kaveh moreso than Kaveh was hurt by Alhaitham. After all, for Kaveh the painful part was being forced to reconcile with the reality of his life, it just so happens that Alhaitham was the one to reveal it to him. Meanwhile, Kaveh denounced their entire friendship just because Alhaitham told him the truth - that is a conflict based solely in their relationship.

They need to have an open and honest conversation, but Kaveh refuses to trust Alhaitham and Alhaitham never asks the right questions. It’s a genuinely tragic dynamic that could be rectified, if only either of them could do what they always fail to. If Kaveh could self-reflect on his own issues, he might be able to recognise that he’s partially to blame for their woes. If Alhaitham could truly attempt to comprehend Kaveh’s actions past “irrationality”, then he might get out of his own head long enough to wonder about how Kaveh sees him.

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tokoumaru · 1 year

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★ mondstat boys' voicelines about you!

feat. diluc, kaeya, albedo, venti tags. voicelines, pure fluff, gender neutral reader, friends/coworkers to lovers! word count. 3.7k tw. hinted spoilers (?) in kaeyas and albedos part, mentions of fatal injuries in diluc’s part

synopsis. genshin impact boys and their in-game voicelines about you!

voiceline series. part 1: liyue, part 2: mondstat, part 3: inazuma, part 4: sumeru

diluc ragnvindr

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

The Knights of Favonius... The majority of them are incompetent both in their actions and in their will. However, I do acknowledge the potential and resolve the minority of them hold. Take (Y/N) of the 8th Company for example, they’re adept at the art of Electro and channel their elemental energy into their catalyst flawlessly. Both their unparalleled combat ability and unwavering sense of justice make them potentially one, if not the only, reliable knights currently acting right now... that’s if they decide to get out of bed consistently.

More About Diluc: A Game of Chess (Friendship Lv. 5)

Angel’s Share is known for being Mondstat’s center of information. Occasionally you’ll find me working at the bar, though sometimes I simply visit in discretion. However, it’s beyond me how (Y/N) never fails to recognize me in spite of the perfect disguise and flawless secrecy I put forward. Despite being known for their indolence, they’re always present at the tavern and somehow insistently challenging me to a game of Chess. It’s been a long while since I played chess with anyone... yet their skills make mine look that of a Grandmaster’s. Although they may have strength almost parallel to mine, it seems their strategic thinking may use a little... haste. Brute force and morality without thorough planning will get you nowhere... It seems that (Y/N) is acutely aware of this fact. I truly applaud them for taking matters into their own hands despite their idle disposition. However, I had never agreed to be their mentor or their chess ‘master’. Still... seeing their persistence makes it hard to decline them.

More About Diluc: The Darknight Hero’s Shortcomings (Friendship Lv. 6)

I’m sure you’re aware of the Darknight Hero’s true identity by now... Witnessing the Knights of Favonius’ incompetence first-hand, I find it impossible to trust them with responsibilities concerning the protection of the city. I didn’t intend for it to be recognized, but it’s true that I’ve taken it as my sworn duty to protect Mondstat from the evil that lurks in the dusk of night... though by no means did I expect to earn such a childish title. Listen, no matter how powerful you are, working day and night without rest will wear you out. Back then, I ignored this blatant fact and instead chose to press forward foolishly, disregarding any long-term effect this choice had on my wellbeing... If not for (Y/N), I would have died at the hands of my own ignorance. That night, there were an alarming number of Abyss Mages situated in Windrise. Despite being aware of my fatigue, I had rushed on to take on more than I could handle... this had been my fatal mistake. Luckily, it was one of the rare nights (Y/N) chose to patrol. At seeing my struggle, they had hastily defeated the rest of the Abyss Mages with no hesitation whatsoever. I owe them my life. Truthfully, I insisted on repaying them for their deeds... However, all they wished for was for me to stop throwing myself into precarious situations so they wouldn’t lose any more sleep... how befitting of them.

About You: Partners in Crime (Friendship Lv. 10)

From the moment (Y/N) had extended their help on that faithful night, they had insistently accompanied me on my duties as the Darknight Hero, no matter how much I said otherwise. Truthfully, they were only a nuisance at first... managing to fall asleep on most missions. I had no interest in idle chit-chat and only wished to protect the city from the looming evil. Though, after a dreadful night where I had sustained a handful of injuries, they had thrown a fit at seeing me. That night, (Y/N) had repeatedly reminded me that I was a citizen of Mondstat as well, and that it was their duty as a Knight to protect its citizens. I was about to protest, knowing that I had no use for the Knight’s so-called protection... Though, seeing the evident worry on their face, my brewing argument seemed stuck in my throat.. Walking alone in darkness, I had instinctively shunned all those who tried to walk the same path as me. I used to believe that the path to vanquishing all evil had been a lone one. However, seeing the feelings (Y/N) held for me... I have to admit that I was wrong. Despite their rather consistent indolence, they’ve proved their unyielding will to protect the citizens of Mondstat, which they insist includes me… Now, not only do I owe them my life, I owe them my entire being as well. Just as they wish to protect me, I wish to do the same for them... I can’t afford to lose them.

kaeya alberich

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N), eh? When I first met them, they seemed like the naive type, so I decided to joke around with them a little. They were Lisa’s little library assistant, so I had simply asked them for a copy of ‘Legend of the Lone Sword I,’ which was commonly known for being of Liyuen descent. Haha, you’d think someone who’s stationed inside a library would know exactly what books the place holds... To my surprise, the following day they had disappeared completely causing quite a stir among the Knights. It was only until dusk did they reappear at the tavern, earnestly holding the entire ‘Legend of the Lone Sword’ series just for little old me. Ahaha, I was quite stunned, to say the least. I was about to sincerely thank them for all that trouble... until Lisa pulled me off to the side and boy was she angry. I still get shivers at the thought of it...

More About Kaeya: A Long Needed Break (Friendship Lv. 5)

The title of Cavalry Captain is nothing to get excited about. When Grand Master Varka took the rest of the Cavalry for his expedition, it seems that as the Captain, I was left to shoulder the legwork all alone. Oh, woe is me, a Cavalry Captain without any cavalry to captain, running around Mondstat fending off all its evil. I must say, even someone as diligent as I, needs a break at times. Aside from Angel’s Share, the Knight’s library is the perfect place to take a breather. Compared to the hustle and obnoxious paltry of the tavern, the library’s peaceful silence is one that I truly prefer after a long day of tedious work. Speaking of... Lisa’s little assistant, (Y/N), seems to have taken a liking to my company. Instead of the serene silence you’d expect, the library’s usually filled with (Y/N)’s excitedly hushed whispers foretelling stories about the most recent book they’ve read... quite endearing, I must say. Heh, their ardent enthusiasm makes it hard for me to say anything, so they simply can’t blame me for dozing off on them. Although, it seems that they don’t mind my negligence at all, and each time I somehow awake from my little nap with a small blanket laid on my shoulders. It’s truly a shame the library’s oftentimes desolate, the sight of the Cavalry Captain napping with a bright pink shawl littered with floral patterns would prove to be a great source of entertainment for the Knights.

More About Kaeya: Endearing Misadventures (Friendship Lv. 6)

The Reconnaissance, headed by Captain Eula, is usually in charge of scouting Mondstat’s wilderness. *sigh* Though, ever since the Grand Master’s expedition, the Knights have been completely short-handed... So much so that it seems Jean couldn’t help but send (Y/N) and me off to scout the unusual activity happening in Dragonspine. Knowing how protective Lisa is of her little assistant, she couldn’t help but protest fervently... It’s a shame that Eula and the rest were truly too busy to focus on such a newly appeared threat. (Y/N)... Oho, you shouldn’t underestimate them, no matter how docile they may appear. The expedition to Dragonspine went smoothly... except for one faithful instance. Unfortunately, at the inner ruins of the icy environment, we encountered a few Fatui Skirmishers and an idle little Ruin Guard at bay. As it was only (Y/N) and I, I couldn’t help but promptly activate the Ruin Guard. Ahaha, am I truly at fault for trying to use all our means to defeat an enemy? Although (Y/N) was quite appalled at the sight, my strategy was a success and the Fatui Skirmishers couldn’t even hold a candle to such a machine. Well... We were successful up until the Ruin Guard decided to put its sights on us right after. Truthfully, I had already expected this outcome... Though, what I didn’t expect was for the little library assistant to shove me away from the automation in an attempt to save me from its attack. Heh, I didn’t expect such a tiny being to hold such fervor in them. It’s a shame they’re confined to such an idle library when they’re fully capable of decimating a Ruin Guard on their own... It seems like I might have a recruit in tow. Though, I’m not sure I would like to be at the receiving end of their scolding twice. They’re full of surprises, calling their own captain overconfident and reckless to their own face— when they had started shedding a few tears out of their frustration at my carelessness… they’re truly quite fascinating.

About You: At the End, With You (Friendship Lv. 10)

(Y/N)... Truthfully, they had only been a source of passing entertainment for me. Tell me, since when exactly have they been a source of comfort as well? Since when did I come to the library in search of their company instead of for its silence? That... I cannot tell you. Hmm? Do you mean to tell me that my gaze has changed? Ever since that incident at Dragonspine, you say? Haha, it seems that you’ve caught me red-handed. It’s true that I hold (Y/N) dear to my heart, and truth be told, it was a tough decision to let them in. I suppose I’ve encountered my fair share of partings and where my loyalties lie is something I still ponder over... There will come a time when I will have to make an imperative choice between two sides of the same coin. As for (Y/N), I chose to be with them despite knowing what inevitably lies in store for me... It was simply because I have full faith that they’ll stay with me no matter which path I decide to take. You’re happy for me? Why thank you, Traveler. I know you’ve noticed my... inherent loneliness for quite a while now. Hehe, I believe it’s time to rest easy.

albedo kreideprinz

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N)? Ah, they’re certainly a faithful assistant. At first, they had only opted to observe a great deal of my experiments for fear of blunder. It took a while for their nerves to wear off, but once they were confident they wouldn’t err, they had made my results all the more worthwhile. Either way, knowing we share the same passion for uncommon knowledge makes them truly pleasant to work with. Although they may be quite uncoordinated at times, I have absolute faith in their exceptional abilities as an alchemist and most importantly, as my assistant.

More About Albedo: Experimental Mishaps (Friendship Lv. 5)

A number of people call me a ‘genius,’ but I don’t think I'm any ‘genius’ at all. Situated in the isolated environment of Dragonspine, most citizens haven’t seen the number of experimental mishaps that occur. Although my experiments may be dangerous, no one gets hurt most times. Ah... Actually, on one occasion my assistant, (Y/N), had a mild allergic reaction to one of my experiment’s ingredients. They were reduced to constant sneezing, to the point where I had to postpone the proceeding experiment due to their inability to function properly. Normally, I would be quite displeased at having time wasted like this however, it seemed that I had discovered an entirely new subject to study. (Y/N)... How was it possible for one’s cheeks to turn so ruddy in such a short period of time? Did their continuous sneezing prompt the sudden rush of blood in their facial structure? Truthfully, I didn’t notice I was staring at them quite intently until they had bashfully turned their trembling back on me, mumbling incoherent sentences... How could one’s backside seem so small in such a moment? To be able to hold such a fragile part of them... It wasn’t until they had decided to simply run away in embarrassment that I snapped out of my train of thought. To this day, I can’t help but wonder why my sentiments had landed on that specific matter...

More About Albedo: A Need for Data (Friendship Lv. 6)

(Y/N)... Ever since that experimental mishap, I have been inclined to study their disposition; with their consent of course. At the first mention of my proposal, they had quite an explosive reaction and dropped a few volumetric flasks on the floor. I paid it no mind, my attention simply on obtaining their response regarding the matter at hand. Seeing the crimson spill on their cheeks once more, my intrigue had been reignited... I was truly honored that (Y/N) had promptly agreed, albeit a bit bashfully. To formally start the process of this new experiment, I simply decided to sketch a portrait of (Y/N). I asked them to sit comfortably on their usual designated chair in the laboratory... I didn’t expect the process to last half a day- and even in that period of time, the portrait lay only half finished. Reflecting back, it seemed that I was dissatisfied with each stroke of my pencil... Nothing I did at that moment could accurately capture the scene in front of me. What was I lacking? The lighting was ample enough, the view of the laboratory was decent, the coat (Y/N) was wearing was simple and brought them enough warmth, their expression was lax and soft, their cheeks their usual ruddy color, their eyes... Ah, this was a variable I hadn’t expected.

About You: The Meaning of this World (Friendship Lv. 10)

When master had left me with my final assignment, I was completely lost. To find the truth and meaning of this world was something far beyond the limit of my abilities, I had believed it was beyond my being as well. Thus, the only task I was able to complete was the journey to Mondstat. Although deeming my final assignment almost impossible, there was nothing I could do but earnestly uncover the rest of the unknown, hoping to find at least a single clue. Relationships, especially ones that are built on love, had only been a trifling matter to me. I had once seen relations with people as taxing and time-consuming cycles... To be proven wrong by my own assistant, (Y/N), had been quite a pleasant surprise. Our relationship was certainly an experiment which yielded results that required an entire lifetime’s worth of attention… Thanks to them, I felt the refinement of my own emotions. Whenever they were with me, an influx of unknown feelings had garnered within my being and subconsciously, the urge to hold them close had overtaken the tedium of relations. I must ask you a question... when parents speak to their children about ‘the meaning of this world’, do they simply mean the pursuit of a happy life? This may only be wishful thinking, but if this was what master had intended... perhaps I may have already found the answer.

venti/barbatos

About You (Friendship Lv. 4)

(Y/N)! They have amazing taste when it comes to beverages of the alcoholic variety, after all, they’re the tavern’s best bartender! My sincerest apologies to Charles and Master Diluc themselves, but the way (Y/N) brews up your common Dandelion Wine and turns it into something special is truly worth a song or two. As we’re both avid alcoholics, it’s a given we both get along truly well— two peas in a pod I must say. Mwuhahaha... Don’t tell Master Diluc, but they like to sneak me some Apple Cider on the house, truly the kindest being to ever grace the lands of Teyvat!

More About Venti: The Dawn of the Winery (Friendship Lv. 5)

Ah, Traveler! By any chance, have you seen my darling (Y/N) around? My tummy sure is rumbling, but I can’t get caught pilfering food from Dawn Winery again... Usually, my brave little bartender would swoop in to save me during these times of hardship but it seems like they’re nowhere to be found. Hmmm, they must already be at the orchards waiting for me then. Hehe, they’ve always claimed to know me like the back of their hand after all. Shh... You mustn't say a word about this to Master Diluc, Traveler, but I can’t say this has been the first time (Y/N) and I snuck around like this. Ah yes, I can still remember the first time they’ve ever extended their kindness to a simple wandering bard such as me. The dawn of the day was still approaching and I had spent my entire night drinking away at the tavern! It was only until Huffman kicked me out did I realize just how famished I truly was... and that day I just so happened to have heard that Dawn Winery had just restocked their apple supply. Why, just the thought of it makes my stomach churn! Well... How should I put it? The chances of success for a drunkard bard such as I to be pilfering apples from an orchard are quite slim, right? It’s too bad I didn’t realize it then, but thankfully just as Master Diluc was about to catch me devouring the last of his fresh apples, my savior (Y/N) came down from the heavens and saved me. Ah, they could’ve handled me a bit better though, although I may be a drunkard, I’m still a person and absolutely not a sack of potatoes to be dragged around. Haha, I don’t mind at all though, considering that they apologized profusely afterwards and even offered to become my personal apple supply from that day on! At heart, they truly are a kind person. Reminds me of another good friend...

More About Venti: Perfect Places (Friendship Lv. 6)

Traveler! Oh my, our courageous Honorary Knight looks quite exhausted, it must be hard running around the city quelling everyone's needs. Hehe, just between you and me, let me tell you the perfect place to take a quick rest. It’s quite a long way from the city, but the further away the better for you it seems... The view from the tip of Starsnatch cliff is absolutely breathtaking! Paired with the calm breeze that passes right through and you’ll definitely lull yourself to the land of the nod. Right in the dusk of the night when the moon is at its highest peak, you can often see me at the tip of the cliff munching on an exquisite apple. Hehe, you’ll find (Y/N) right beside me as well, who do you think brought the apple? I’ve written numerous songs about them to express my sincerest gratitude, but I don’t think any of them are worthy enough for my darling savior! After all, they serve me a few free drinks at the tavern, give me a whole bunch of fresh apples from Dawn Winery, and continuously choose to stay by my side... In the most innocuous moments, I can’t help but be consumed by an idle guilt stemming from memories long ago. To be with (Y/N), simply adoring the view of the stars above us, basking in the gentle touch of the winds, and happily exchanging petals of plucked cecilias, reminds me that perhaps his sacrifice wasn’t for naught... There are truly no melodies to describe how grateful I am for them. Hehe, it would be nice if the two of us could simply sit on that cliff edge forever.

About You: The Test of Time (Friendship Lv. 10)

To write a song is no easy task, but you’re in luck, after all, I’ve been crowned the “Most Popular Bard of Mondstat” three times in a row. Just look around you, Traveler! The lands of Teyvat are bountiful, its oceans vast, and its firmament ever-lasting— each gust of wind carries the memories of scenes that pass through time and if the citizens of Mondstat would just look around them, they would see that there’s no shortage of inspiration at all! After all, every living being deserves a name to be called upon and woven into a song. Hmm? You want to know about my latest work of inspiration? Ohoho, you’re in luck, my dear friend! Ah, my dearest (Y/N)... It’s truly a shame that songs are confined to a few minutes, there are too many words I want to say to you. Oh Traveler, It’s been a great many years since I felt this arduous passion burning inside me... It’s a feeling I’ve truly missed and I must say I owe it all to my charming savior. To have lived a millenium, I’ve overseen the growth of this city right from the moment it rose forth. I’ve met countless people, both pleasant and unpleasant... It’s been long since I’ve seen someone as kind and as courageous as them. No being is immortal, Traveler, and everyone will soon face an inevitable end. Even if I may be the Anemo Archon, not even I can prolong the lives of those I hold dear to me... and perhaps even I may meet my own fate. To stand the test of time is a wish everyone prays for... I may simply be a passing wind in this longstanding land, but the tunes I leave behind is a mark that no erosion can erase. Remember me, not as Barbatos, but as Venti, a simple wandering bard whose songs he dedicates to his most beloved, (Y/N).

a/n. I think I messed up albedos character AND lore completely. FORGIVE ME!!! he had to be the hardest to write between all the mondstat boys... also i think that it was a bit harder to write established relationships with these ppl so naturally i had somehow made it a friends to lovers typa thing! once again FORGIVE ME IF IT WASNT WHAT U GUYS EXPECTED :<< I am the queen of mischaracterizing genshin men

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