#there’s more certainly but I only have so many tags and am worried I’m starting to run out lol

[portlandrowismyhome]

Borrowed Time: Chapter One

A little fanfic I got suckered into writing by @the-biscuit-agreement ‘s incredible prompt. Huge thanks to @lemonsharks and @oceanspray5 ‘s additional ideas.

This is that Lockwood and co serial killer prompt…

Tag list (or interest list for those who showed interest in the prompt. If you aren’t interested in the fic no worries): (also my Lockwood friends in general): @neewtmas @givemea-dam-break @thedonutdeliverygirl @ikeasupremacy @wellgoslowly @edmundlockwood @narnianweirdos @tangledinlove @so-true-jestie @oblivious-idiot @paysomeonetopaysomeone @peachesanddandelions @myownpainintheass @sadwinistic @almostlikequake @saelterlude @fandomscraziness22 @everythingwillend @uku-lelevillain @atlabeth @carlyleons @smol-being-of-light @losticaruss @superpositvecloudshipper @totally-not-an-npc @paranorahjones @malteevars-kee-devi @teaandtoastandthyme @jesslockwood @krash-and-co @lucy-j-carlyle

Please note this is a sideblog and all replies will come from @waitingforthesunrise

This takes place four months after The Hollow Boy: Lucy is an independent agent who starts investigating the wrong case, and Lockwood has always been living on borrowed time…

Warnings: mild language, general pain, angst, suggested injury, death, car accident, hint at torture, threats, hurt/very little comfort (yet). I’m so sorry, guys…

“Miss Carlyle.” Inspector Barnes sighed, flipping over the newspapers strewn across his desk. “Trust me. This is a case to let go.”

“What cases do we let go, Inspector?” Lucy leaned forward. “We’re agents. Getting to the bottoms of things is what we do.”

“And DEPRAC’s job is to make sure that’s the only thing you go to the bottom of,” Barnes said. “Miss Caryle, you have almost no evidence. You have no team. You certainly have no proof. There’s nothing here, and frankly this will only cause you danger I’m unable to help you with.” 

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Lucy snapped. “You called me here.” 

Barnes rubbed a hand across his jaw. Lucy stared stubbornly at his desk. They were sitting in his office; well-lit, clean, and smelling strongly of chemical cleaner. Lucy clenched her jaw, determined not to lose the silent battle. She was so tired — Barnes had called her and left no choice but to return to his office immediately after work. And now she was sitting here in front of his desk, wasting time…she could be eating breakfast, or in a warm shower…the hot water cascading over her tired shoulders….

But the water was shut off due to a leak at her apartment, and there would be now arm breakfast or inviting smells awaiting her. Only crusty dishes and a sulking skull. 

It had been four months since Lucy had left Portland Row. 

Barnes cleared his throat. “Let me make sure I understand. You first took the case from a Miss Helen Younge, correct?”

Lucy nodded. Miss Younge had been young no longer when they had met; the whispery, frail old lady worked at the take-out shop where Lucy often bought doughnuts. Miss Younge often showed Lucy pictures of her cats, but that had been the extent of their interactions until the day the old woman had seized Lucy’s wrist over the cash register and whispered, you’re an agent, aren’t you? Oh, I’m in such trouble…

Barnes studied a notebook. “She offered to pay you?”

“Of course. I am an independent agent. But it was more…”

“A favor?”

Lucy nodded. “She’s an old woman working at a bakeshop, Inspector. She could never pay for a Fittes or Rotwell team.” She didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in her voice; who knew how many nights Miss Younge and others like her had spent, anxious and afraid of things they were unable to see, knowing an inspection alone would cost them precious food?

If Barnes noticed it, he didn’t let on. “Surely you didn’t inspect the property at night?” He squinted at the paper. “An apartment building, nonetheless.”

“Of course not. I did it in daylight. But…” Lucy hesitated. “I thought it would be just a weak Type One, an old person’s death or something, but…”

“Yes?”

“There was a strange whispering.”

“Miss Carlyle, you are a Listener, and sources do have a habit —“

“I found the Source, sir. It was just a simple Type One and gave almost no trouble. But I don’t think it’s the only ghost there. There’s something else, maybe more than just one.”

Lucy paused, remembering the sticky brush of a spiderweb against her face, the quick rush of cool air, the sudden suspension of time. 

“It says here,” Barnes said, “you ‘found yourself stuck in a time-loop.’ You have no idea when it could be from, or what it’s stemming from. You’re convinced it’s connected to the Type One, but that it’s not the cause.”

“Exactly.” Lucy eagerly leaned forward. “The voice, it kept saying the same thing, over and over—”

“— help me, I’m dying, he took care of you, so now you’ll kill me too,” Barnes finished in a bored tone. “Very concise for a ghost.”

Lucy brushed off his skepticism. “Of course there was more, that’s just what was clear — Inspector, this ghost was murdered. Maybe Miss Younge’s Type One, too.”

“Wouldn’t it have been a bit stronger, then?”

“Not if it was a miserable, elderly person living alone in an apartment complex with a cat and a bottle of pain pills. Those are a dime a dozen, Inspector. The person might not even know they were murdered. Not until it was too late.” 

Barnes groaned. “You have the Source, don’t you.”

“Not on me,” said Lucy. She did. It was in her knapsack, securely sealed in iro; a small, initialed pocketknife. 

“Miss Carlyle—”

Lucy hurriedly shuffled through her knapsack, and held out a stack of papers. “Look, Inspector, I found these in the library — it’s a murder case, I’m sure, I think this might lead to the victim, an unnamed body — the Source gets clearer every time I listen to it—”

“Miss Carlyle!” Barnes brought his hand down on the table. “I don’t have time for this. DEPRAC can’t keep you off the case, but consider this a warning. Whatever happens after this is on you. And —“

The door banged open. Lucy looked up to see an ashen-faced assistant gabbling into a hand-held receiver. 

“Sir!” The assistant said. “Sir, it’s urgent…there’s been an accident outside, a body…”

Barnes jumped to his feet and hurried out the door, and Lucy, after hesitating for a moment, followed. 

Clouds were gathering in the sky overhead; the air smelled like rain. A cool breeze tugged at Lucy’s hair as she hurried down the steps after Inspector Barnes and towards the knot of people gathered near the road. 

“They said it was a green van,” the assistant said. “Just barreled through and drove off…”

Voices rose excitedly from the gawking group. “Came right out of nowhere, he did…just slammed into the poor thing…never had a chance….” 

“DEPRAC Inspector!” Barnes roared. “Stand back!”

The crowd drew apart, and Lucy had a clear view of the blood streaked face staring empty-eyed at the sky. 

It was Miss Younge. 

There was a blur of ambulances and shouting and the passerby offering eager comments. Lucy couldn’t look away from the sightless eyes and crumpled cardigan of the old woman. Her head pounded; it couldn’t be real, couldn’t be happening. Miss Younge had given her a sandwich only that morning! The blood spattered across the pavement…

Barnes tried to steer her towards the steps, but she caught his sleeve. 

“Miss Carlyle —“

“Inspector.” Her voice was ragged even in her own ears. “Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is proof! She must have been coming here to tell me something, she must have found something out! She was murdered, I —“

“Lucy,” Barnes said gently. “There’s been an accident. I understand you’re distraught. Go home, get some sleep.”

“Don’t you get it? This isn’t an accident, this is murder!”

Barnes glanced at the crowd, the assistant waiting nervously, the flashing lights of the screeching ambulance. “This was an accident, Miss Caryle. You’re conjecturing —“

“No!” Lucy stumbled back. “No, it wasn’t.”

An official approached, holding a clipboard. “Inspector, if you’d step this way…”

Barnes looks down at the paper, and when he looked up, Lucy Caryle was gone. 

He swore under his breath. 

Lucy paused in front of Miss Younge’s apartment building, breathless. She had run all the way from DEPRAC headquarters, rapier digging mercilessly into her hip, stopping only at her apartment to retrieve the skull. Lucy would rather have died on a bed of hot coals than admit it out loud, but she felt safer with it at her side. She bent over, gasping. 

The skull groaned from inside her knapsack. “You know, I said that all that greasy food would slow you down. But did you listen? No, of course not. Why listen to your friends? Oh wait…” It cackled. “You only have one!”

“Shut up,” Lucy said abruptly. She was digging in her pockets for the key Miss Younge had given her. The key she had been going to return today….

But there was no time for that. She needed to focus, keep her mind clear. Find any clues before DEPRAC took over. She bounded up the stairs, skull complaining loudly in her ear. Hurry, hurry, hurry…

The door was unlocked. 

Lucy tapped it hesitantly and it creaked slowly open. 

“Put me down!” The skull complained. “I can’t see a thing!”

Lucy slid the jar out of the bag and set it in the corner. The room was dark and musty; a few half-empty bookshelves,  a stained quilt covered the sagging bed…and that strange muttering whisper in her ear sending shivers up her skin…

Something warm and furry brushed against her leg and she almost jumped out of her skin. 

“Skull! You could have warned me.”

“Oh, because that’s my job now? You haven’t even apologized for this morning, and you expect me to hand out my exceptional services for free? Besides, it’s only a cat.” 

The orange cat meowed hesitantly, and Lucy bent down to brush its back. 

“God, no,” the skull said. “Lucy…I see what you’re thinking, Lucy, and the answer is no!”

“We have to take it.” Lucy straightened up and began to examine the dusty bookshelves. “Miss Younge won’t be coming back.” 

“It’s a cat. Cats live like the little demons they are. ARGH! It’s coming closer, Lucy, make it stop, it’s so ugly…”

A sharp riiiing cut through the skull’s moans. Lucy jumped, glancing at the phone. Just a call. Probably some elderly friend, looking for a chat. And she’d have to tell them…

She picked up the receiver. “Hello, I—“

“Hello, Lucy Carlyle.” The voice was smooth; slippery, sharp, and entirely unfamiliar. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you. Might I add how beautiful you look this morning?”

Lucy froze. “Who is this?”

“A businessman. Looking for a deal.”

Lucy shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I’m sorry, but this isn’t my number.”

“Oh, no. It’s your location. But why leave a message when I can reach you like this? I knew you’d come for the cat, anyway.”

The sounds of the skull arguing faded away. “What did you say?”

“Look, darling. You’ve had a good run. A good case. Why, if you go home now, you’ll even find a little payment on the doorstep.”

“A payment for what?”

“Dropping the case, of course.” The voice was like silk. “And never speaking about it to DEPRAC again. We wouldn’t want to bother our silly little head about it, would we?”

“I’m not dropping the case!”

“Oh?”

Lucy scrambled for time, a cold weight in the pit of her stomach. “So you know something? Miss Younge was murdered?”

“Oh, Miss Younge.” The man made a disgusted noise. “She was small and unimportant.”

“The Type One, then?”

“No, my dear. This is about Lockwood.” 

Four months. Four months. And her world still reeled at the sound of his name. 

Lucy swallowed. “What does Lockwood have to do with this?”

“What doesn’t he have to do with this is a better question. Everything about you traces back to him eventually, doesn’t it? But it’s simple: you bury the case or I bury the boy. After I’ve had some fun, of course…And come on, Lucy. We both know catching him wouldn’t be the hard part.”

“I—”

“You need to drop this while I still have the restraint for it. Think how hard it will be for me to stop after I’ve heard him beg like you have. The boy’s practically screaming for someone to end his misery already, and trust me — when I’m done, he will be. And I’m sure you saw that last case put him in the hospital for three days…No, our Locky’s been looking for death a long time…”

Lucy’s ears were ringing, her nose full of the heavy must of dust and cat. “I—“

“Good day, darling,” the voice said, and hung up. 

Lucy clenched the receiver, staring at the faded wallpaper. Her knees were shaking. God, he was right. That hospital visit. A broken leg. She had scanned the papers every day for news of Lockwood, hoping she wouldn’t find a death announcement, hating herself for it every time…

The skull was making horrific faces at the cat, which was inching closer. The skull yelped as Lucy swept it into the bag and bundled the cat in her arms. 

“What kind of treatment is this, huh? And we’re going home, I hope…”

“We’re going to find Lockwood,” Lucy said briefly. “Before it’s too late.” 

Lucy didn’t bother with the bell or the iron line. She threw herself at the door, hammering at the wood, a horrific panic clutching her heart. The voice had seemed so sure, so certain. She had imagined her re-entry to Portland Row many times; in one particularly gratifying scenario, Lockwood had been on his knees begging her, the hugely successful businesswomen, to save his beloved house. And now it was her begging for entry…she kicked the thoughts aside and hit the door with her foot. 

The door swung open unexpectedly and she fell into the dark hallway. George was staring at her, eyes round from behind his glasses, a rapier in his hand. 

“Lucy?” He said blankly. 

“George,” Lucy gasped, the cat leaping from her arms. She brushed her hair back with a sweaty palm. “Is Lockwood here? Hurry, please, I need to see him!!”

Holly appeared over George’s shoulder, wrapped in an elegant coat. “Oh, it’s Lucy! And she’s brought us a cat!”

“Please!” Lucy pushed past them towards the library. “Where is he? Lockwood!”

“Oh, Lucy,” Holly whispered. 

Lucy paused, the quiet house settling over her like a heavy weight. For the first time she noticed George and Holly’s coats and hats, rapiers strapped to their waists. 

“We were just going to find you,” said Holly. 

Lucy swallowed. “I..”

George heaved a sigh. “Lucy, Lockwood’s been missing for two days.”

The world was spinning again. 

Lucy felt a hand on her elbow, and Holly guided her into a chair. “Hurry, George, put on some tea, she’s probably frozen…oh, I’m so sorry…”

George made a disgruntled noise. “She still hasn’t said what she’s doing here.”

“I got a phone call,” Lucy said numbly. “About Lockwood. There’s this case — it was a warning, and I …Oh, my word.”

Holly set down a mug. “We were just going to look for you. We thought, maybe…”

“He wasn’t with me,” Lucy said. 

They all jumped at the shrill ring of the phone. The sound sliced through Lucy with a cold recognition. She rose. 

“I’m alright, Holly, really. I — I need to answer that call.”

“You don’t even work here!” George said, following her into the hall. “It’s not your job!”

“You never answered them even when it was your job,” she shot back. “And this one will be for me.” 

The receiver was cool in her hands. She stared at the dark bookshelves, breathing in the familiar smell of Portland Row. “Hello?”

Silence. 

Hope filled her. Maybe it was just a wrong number — a grocery order —

“Hello, darling,” the voice said, a soft chuckle hiding in it’s voice. “What a pleasure to hear your voice again.”

“Wish I could say the same for you.”

“My, my. Sass this early in the day? Did your little pals miss you?”

She gripped the receiver. “Where is he?”

“Where is he? But you’ve guessed that, haven’t you, Lucy Caryle? Best Listener in London. Head like that on your shoulders. You know where he is.” 

“I swear if you’ve hurt him,” she whispered. “It will be the last thing you ever do, do you hear me? I swear—“

“Oh, Lucy,” the voice crooned. “If I hurt him? You should be begging me for a little mercy.” He sighed. “What would you have guessed? DEPRAC arrived at the apartment only five minutes after you and started a Source sweep with a double team. Your Mister Barnes trusted you a little more than you thought. But that’s besides the point…”

“I don’t know you have him,” Lucy said. Geroge’s worried face loomed in her vision, Holly right behind him, hands clasped under her chin. “You could be lying.”

“I could.” The voice hummed lightly. “How would you like me to prove it to you? His voice saying your name? A handkerchief?”

Her stomach clenched. “A recording. A piece of fabric. Could have gotten them anywhere.”

“True,” it mused. “What about a finger? You’ve stared at his hands enough; you’d know them anywhere, wouldn’t you?”

“I—“

“Or his ring? The one you thought you might wear on your finger one day.” It chuckled. “Still time for that. At his funeral, maybe —“ 

“Where is he,” Lucy spat into the phone. “Where is he, you stupid bastard!?”

“Now, now,” the voice tsked. “I’m not cruel. Why don’t I just put him on the phone? Be a good girl and listen to his demands, now.”  

Lucy’s stomach dropped at the familiar voice over the phone. 

“Luce,” Lockwood said warmly. “It’s been a while!”

“My word, Lockwood,” she said faintly. It was him, really him; his voice and his nickname for her… “What are you doing?” 

“A spot of business. Quite nice, really.” 

She could hear the rough edges in his voice now, the little gasps on the end of his sentences, like the air was whistling through his lungs. 

“Lockwood,I—”

“It’s so good to hear your voice again, Luce; you have no idea. Wish you could have popped round for some tea the other day, though. George made your favorite.”

“Lockwood!”

His voice was weary when he spoke again. “Yes, Luce?”

She turned away from the others. “What’s going on, Lockwood? They couldn’t find you — I was so worried — where are you? Where do I need to go? I’ll come and I’ll —“

“Not to worry,” Lockwood said cheerfully, but it sounded forced, as though he was saying it through clenched teeth. “I’ve got it all handled, Luce. Everything’s under control. You’re not running yourself to the ground over me, are you, Luce?  Get some rest and take care, you hear me? And stay at Portland Row as long as you like. Oh, and tell Holly that I broke one of her pink teacups the other day. She can order a new set. My apologies.”

Lucy’s gaze rose to meet Holly’s horrified eyes. “Lockwood!” She spat, trying desperately to keep the panic from her voice. “Tell me where you are, I swear — dear God, Lockwood, this isn’t a joke—”

“Isn’t it? That reminds me: I heard a particularly good one the other day, I made a note to tell you…” Lockwood hissed sharply. “Ah. Oh, that’s better.” There was a sliding sound. “Just needed to sit down.”

“You’re hurt, aren’t you?” Lucy knew she was babbling. “Lockwood, please, please—”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s okay, Luce.” Lockwood’s voice was perfectly calm, with only a slight tremor to remind her they weren’t sitting across from each other at the breakfast table. “I promise.”

“No!” She gasped for breath. “No, you swore you would never lie to me again, Lockwood — you swore—”

“Lucy!” Lockwood chuckled, but inhaled sharply as though it pained him. “I’m taking care of a brief issue. It’s business as usual.”

“No, Lockwood, it’s not! Just tell me, please, please—”

“I’ve spent my life feeling like a weapon,” Lockwood said quietly, his voice echoing over the phone. “Always living on borrowed time. I never could tell if the weapon was pointed at myself or at others. But I’ll make damn sure it isn’t pointed at you.”

A ragged sob caught in Lucy’s throat. It wasn’t real. She’d wake up tomorrow, in her own bed, and Lockwood would still be an annoying prick who lived nearby, and she would have a chance to fix everything. It couldn’t end like this.

And here she was, already acting as though it was the end. 

“No,” she whispered into the phone, her voice growing louder. “No! NO.  DAMN YOU, LOCKWOOD, YOU ANNOYING BASTARD — JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO DIE, I WON’T LET YOU, I—“

“Listen to me, Lucy,” Lockwood said, his voice suddenly urgent. She broke off, sobbing for breath. His voice was quick and direct, like they were on a case together. “Take the Source. Listen exactly to what it says, and then tell Barnes. Okay? And then take it to the furnaces and burn it. Understood? You’ll be alright. Everything’s under control.” 

“No,I—”

“One last thing,” said Lockwood, his voice shaking just a little. “Luce, I needed to say…there’s not much time, but I lov—”

There was a sharp beep, and the line went dead. 

~ To be continued ~

#save lockwood and co #lockwood and co #renew lockwood and co #save lockwood & co #bring back lockwood and co #together for lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #togetherforlockwoodandco #lucy carlyle #locklyle #locklyle fanfic #lucewood #lucewood fanfic #Lockwood and co fanfic #holly munro #george cubbins #george karim #fanfic #Anthony Lockwood fanfic #Locklyle fanfiction #Lockwood and co fanfiction #Original fanfic

[myheartalivewrites]

Weekend WIP Game

Thanks for tagging my @kiwiana-writes @cha-melodius and @daisymae-12!

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).

1. WIP List: I'm definitely a one-at-a-time sort of person. I hate having unfinished WIPs hanging about, it stresses me out. That said, I've got three docs with a substantial number of words in them:

[Dark and Stormy]

[Provence] (more here)

Oxford Nights

AND there's one more WIP I've finished working on and am hoping to start posting tomorrow (ahem ahem ahem) which is not on that list but I’m counting anyway

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

[Provence] at nearly 14k

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

Probs that one, I don’t think I’m even halfway through with it! It’s not going to be long-long though

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

Oh God, I don't know. I've not worked on [Dark and Stormy] for a while, that's the one I'm most looking forward to getting back to

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

Lol, right now [Dark and Stormy] is intimidating bc I want to change the whole beginning of it. That's why I've been putting it off for oh... nine months 😬

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

The one that's gonna start posting tomorrow? Mainly bc I'm worried it's too much like a devil's threesome, even though no women are involved lol

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

Again, tomorrow's one, which is called Twice the speed (of you and me) by the way! I've asked a couple of people to read it through for me.

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

Sometimes, yeah. Mainly when I try and work stuff into the plot that I'm not that interested in or that requires a lot of world building. I've started following the Matthew Lopez philosophy about it: if it's not about Alex and Henry, it has to go. It's certainly what happened with Deep Blue, and that's how I got myself out of being blocked, by limiting anything that wasn't specifically about them.

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

Oh, [Provence] has a character in it who I really love, she's an old friend of Arthur's, an actress in her sixties all glamour and graceful ageing, who loves Henry like a parent. Though, weirdly, she's what's got me a bit stuck on it, because I have all these ideas for what I want from her but can't quite bring myself to do the world building that comes along with that 😂

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

Hah, lol. The threesome. Is the fandom ready for it? We'll see.

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

Dunno, actually. Maybe [Provence], just because Alex is having his bisexual awakening and feeling all jealous at Henry's sluttiness. It's not ACTUALLY angsty though.

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

Yikes, what a question! All of them, my characterisation is perfect, no notes etc.

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

Oooh I love the [Provence] one. It's all lush, some super rich people's home, but with a touch of south of France rustic to it.

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

🤷‍♀️ don't think I have an answer for this one

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

Again, just... 🤷‍♀️ I always wonder about the really smutty ones, I fret over them the most and then they turn out to be really popular so...

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

Not really, though they do keep me awake at night. I woke up this morning at like five and just HAD to check on the beta feedback.

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

Nah, not really. I mean, threesome mechanics? That's new, I suppose

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

God, no, not this question. I have zero confidence on my ability to make things funny. Like, I know there are funny bits in there, but... Oxford Nights has funny bits with Alex and Henry trying shit out I guess.

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

Nah

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

Okay, so: in one of them Henry owns a cow named MARY 😁

Tagging a meagre 4 peeps for my 4 WIPs ✌️ : @14carrotghoul @suseagull04 @happiness-of-the-pursuit and @whimsymanaged to overshare on the dash, thanks!

#wips #tag games #my writing #about me #wip #wip weekend

[creaturefeaster]

this post is sponsored by uppsulka

This post has nothing to do with Uppsulka I just had this doodle sitting for like a day. I just wanted to talk about my last post-- that ask about CQ’s story and the likes. I’ve gotten a handful of messages about it since I answered it (+a couple replies on the post itself) and I wanted to clarify a couple of things.

Please, if you’re worrying that I’m overworking myself, or pushing myself to put stuff out that isn’t ready yet, know that I am certainly not under any pressure to put things out before their due time. I share lots of tidbits about the story on this blog of course, but you may notice that any actual, physical writing for the story is virtually nonexistent on this blog. If I wanted to, I could have shared the drafts long ago, but I’m taking my time and making it perfect (for me). It will be out when it’s ready, and you don’t have to worry about outside pressures/lack of quality.

Another thing! Some of the messages I’ve gotten were in response to some of the tags on the post, as I am known to ramble quite a bit in the tags from time to time. I mentioned the possibility of me seeking out artistic help in the future. The amount of people wanting to help is heartwarming, it really helps me realise just how many people want to see this story come to fruition. However there’s still a long road before the real, official art for the story will come into play.

Finding the right people to help with such a personal project of mine, if I so choose to go down that fork in the road, would be an arduous process in making sure I know and trust those people and their abilities. (I’m also really picky about how my style is drawn, if people were to help. But that’s a discussion for another time) Not everyone has all the time in the world, either! This is a long term project. Keep in mind this story has been developing for over a decade, and while it’s only the last handful of years that I have really kicked everything into overdrive to try and fully piece it all together, it’s still probably got a while to go before I could ever consider it complete. So please, keep all of this in mind.

As I continue structuring and polishing the written story, I wish to release it in divided chunks. When any given chunk comes close to its finish, I’ll be having beta readers scour the texts for a little bit. Placeholder sketches would ideally be littered throughout the story as needed, but by beta reader’s judgement, more or less may be added. That right there, once the beta reading is done, is the end of the road to visuals-ville. That is to say, that’s when I’d start actually drawing out the things that I need.

So now you have some insight on how the process would work. Was it all necessary to explain? Probably not!!! But if I didn’t ramble so much, I don’t think I’d be able to write this story, either. It’s so big x_x.

All of this could be (and probably should have been) summarized to this:

For those who want to help, for those who truly enjoy the content I create for my universe and want to see more of it, I just ask for your support. Seeing likes, reblogs, reading the tags or comments people add onto the content I share, they really, really help keep me motivated. Every piece of fanart makes my day, whether I comment on it or not, I’m always behind the screen getting all giddy and excited that someone cares about the characters and world I’ve poured my heart and soul into. All the asks you guys send, while I can’t always answer all of them, it lets me know there are still people who are interested in the world and want to know more about it. That’s what keeps me wanting to write. So if you want to help, that’s how you can do it right now.

#i'm a very quiet person so i know i don't comment on a lot of stuff sent to me #but if you are reading this. if you have created fan content and wondered if i've seen it or not. #i probably have. it's all that's on my mind when I have the time #and my god the amount of video edits and color-overs of my sketches that i have saved from various people... #thank you guys for your support <:3 #and i hope you're all staying warm and safe if you live in the northern hemisphere #especially if you live in the US right now. -70 degrees. what the fuck.

[girlwiththegreenhat]

I posted 28,856 times in 2022

230 posts created (1%)

28,626 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@spaghettificationstation

@demonicae

@krisiverse

@neitherlightnordark

@modmad

I tagged 12,472 of my posts in 2022

#deltarune - 4,221 posts

#toh - 1,485 posts

#tiktok - 604 posts

#undertale - 587 posts

#toh spoilers - 586 posts

#cats - 555 posts

#video - 507 posts

#dogs - 430 posts

#lancer - 385 posts

#rouxls kaard - 369 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

“why does darius look so sad in this one” and darius being immediately worried when he hears hunter is also in trouble... is doing things to my brain

1,702 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#4

i totally missed it until my second watch but the cut on Phillip's nose starts to widen after he broke open that palisman, and you can see it further extending over his face (diagonally) in the shot where he's talking about the collector - not only did lilith break his nose, she's also responsible for that huge rotten gash across his face. go girl go

1,735 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

#3

you literally don't understand how long i am going to be thinking about this

TWO

if this birds name is waffle or something i am going to scream

2,568 notes - Posted March 25, 2022

#2

Owen Dennis, creator of Infinity Train, posted a newsletter explaining what he currently knows about Infinity Train's removal from HBOMax. Key notes:

He was assured Infinity Train is NOT part of the tax writeoffs, and as it stands, will not be removed from the pay-per-view/per-season websites like iTunes and YouTube

These shows were supposed to be removed next week so the companies could have time to talk to the show crews, this did not happen.

The cuts were a direct order from Discovery

Discovery was warned not to do this because it was unprofessional and would hurt relationships with their talents, and did it anyway because “they clearly do not care what any of this looks like publicly, much less about how we [the crews] feel about it. “

What little residuals they make on these shows go to the unions to pay for their healthcare.

Nobody has been able to contact any of the “higher ups” at any of the merging companies for days due to, well, the merger. Everybody’s contacts are gone or scrambled around.

Owen thinks this is, ironically, the best bit of advertising the show has gotten, because it’s drawn up so much attention towards the show and how much people love it. It’s been trending on twitter for three straight days and is topping the charts on Amazon and iTunes with how many people are buying dvds and virtual copies of the seasons.

And most most importantly...

“Is the Show Gone Forever?“

I don’t believe so. As I said, it’s apparently still available on those sources listed above, though I do not know for how long. The problem is that I can’t be entirely sure if the information I’m getting is truthful or if it’s just to placate us so we’ll stop pestering them with so many questions. They certainly haven’t earned anyone’s trust with the way they’ve handled all this, so obviously take all of this with a grain or two or a million of salt (though I’m sure you’re feeling plenty salty already). In the meantime, I’ll be working with my management team on figuring out some other kind of fate for the show

There is more, but these are the most important points concerning the most distressing parts of all of this. It’s a must-read for everybody concerned about this situation.

3,416 notes - Posted August 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

19,884 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #liz blogs #laughs because all but one of those posts are TOH #shoutout to lancer for being my most used character tag!!! BABY BOY #29k reblogged posts is a flex if ive ever seen it i am winning at tumblr and that's only half a joke

[toomuchdickfort]

Some character comparisons

#synaelia and raelin: ?????? gender #sean and syl: healing people to their own detriment but trying not to let the other person know #raelin and lucky: fuck I’ve got so much magic and so little to do with it #Dravik and Rei: polite but also will stab you #barrow and will: big+strong+sweet+a little awkward and close to but not quite a parent friend #pom and valre: hm. I could do this facechanger thing with my family... or I could go do my own thing instead #Rij and lucky: short hair and >:3 but much more aggressive and they’re loud and their eyes are red (full or part time) and they like breakin #shit just for the hell of it and having a prosthetic eye and wlw and- #syn and pb and derrek: maybe if I just ignore this problem for long enough... it will go away... #Derrek and lucky: hm I’m distressed. time to go get into a fight #also Derrek and lucky: Fuck yeah! A bruise/scar!!! #pb and corvina: I think I’m going to ruin things on purpose and maybe improve some lives but be rude enough that they don’t realize I helped #karen and Ves: oops I adopted several people. this was not what I planned #Ves and Derrek and Geryon and Jon: please don’t call me a parent #Delila and gisli: I’m gonna heal you but you’re not gonna like me #character rambles #elysur #there’s more certainly but I only have so many tags and am worried I’m starting to run out lol

[elysiadjarin]

Day 2: Breeding Kink

Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink

Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober

Moonlight Through Colored Leaves

When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.

You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.

The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.

You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.

“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”

“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”

“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”

You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.

You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.

She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”

You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.

“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”

You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.

“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.

“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.

She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.

“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”

Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.

You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.

She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.

“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.

“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.

You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”

He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.

He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”

You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”

He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”

You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.

The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.

You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.

Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.

You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.

Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?

You fell asleep thinking about it.

~

You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.

Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.

Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.

Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”

You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”

He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.

Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”

Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”

You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.

By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.

As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.

“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.

He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.

You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.

“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.

You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”

Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”

“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.

You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.

“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.

“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”

You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”

You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.

You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.

“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”

Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.

You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.

His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”

His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”

You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”

He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”

Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”

“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”

When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.

You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?

~

The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.

They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.

Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.

“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.

“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”

Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”

“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.

You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.

It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.

“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”

You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”

Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.

He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”

You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.

He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”

You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”

He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”

He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”

You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”

He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”

You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”

You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.

An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”

You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.

He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”

You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”

He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.

Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.

It was only a matter of time.

~

Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.

The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.

And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?

You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.

Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”

She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.

In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.

It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.

The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”

Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.

“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”

You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.

“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”

The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”

Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.

Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.

The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.

Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.

With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.

The world spun into crimson.

~

Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.

Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”

Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”

“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”

It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—

“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”

Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.

Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”

Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.

But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.

With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.

He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.

Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-“ His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.

“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”

You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—

“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”

Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?

“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.

He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”

Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.

“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“

You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.

You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.

But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.

The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.

Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.

The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.

You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.

Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.

“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—

He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”

And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“

You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.

Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.

With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.

“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.

His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.

“May I?” He tapped your shirt.

You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.

You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.

“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”

You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.

You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.

“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”

You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.

His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”

You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.

“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”

With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.

Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.

Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.

“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”

Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.

He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.

“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”

He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.

A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”

The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.

And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.

Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”

A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.

“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.

You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.

His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.

“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”

You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.

#elysiadjarinkinktober #elysiadjarin #x reader #my writing #mywriting #nsft #exophilia #terato #monsterfucker #xyou #smut #kinktober

[favoniuscodex]

abrupt confessions (xiao & diluc)

prompt: “you’re oblivious to their advances and they’re getting frustrated” pairings: diluc/gn!reader, xiao/gn!reader word count: 1.4k warnings: fluff, emotional constipation (it’s xiao and diluc)

a/n: sorry that xiao’s hcs are a bit shorter than diluc’s, i’m still getting comfy writing him. this is a part of my 50 follower celebration! please let this one show up in tags this time tumblr

DILUC

diluc never really considered himself an expert in romance. in fact, if you ask him upfront, he’d tell you that he barely knows anything about courting and how to charm someone.

but jeez, he didn’t think it’d be this hard.

as you sit at the counter of diluc’s bar after hours, excitedly trying new types of drinks that he’s concocted, diluc wonders how he’d entered the friendzone this badly.

he literally just handed you a non-alcoholic, bright pink, raspberry flavored drink he called love potion and you had taken it with a smile and complemented diluc on what a great friend he was.

diluc doesn’t feel entitled to your affections. he understands if you didn’t like him back and would respect whatever decision you made! but he at least hopes you’ll acknowledge the fact that he likes you so you can talk about it and get the conversation over with.

despite his bravery on the battlefield, he’s a bit nervous about telling you that he likes you straight to your face. however, this feels like the hundredth thing diluc has tried to subtly flirt with you.

he’s just glad kaeya isn’t here to laugh at his failed attempts. even kaeya picked up on diluc’s crush on you before you did.

all of the subtle tricks that diluc had read about in gossip magazines (yes, he had resorted to those) in order to get you to notice him were just coming across as friendly actions.

as the two of you struck up a small conversation about your last commission, diluc wanted nothing more than to ram his head through the counter of the bar.

“just ask them out,” kaeya had told him. “they’re not going to pick up on subtle hints.”

as much as diluc didn’t want to admit it, maybe, just maybe, his brother was right about something.

the days passed by and no matter what diluc did, you interpreted all of his advances as friendly. a bouquet of cecelias? what a nice housewarming gift! a nice bottle of dandelion wine? what a generous gift!

“(y/n), we need to talk,” diluc finally states, after his umpteenth gift in his attempt at courting you went without proper acknowledgement.

you look at him in concern, worried about his tense tone of voice. “did i do something wrong?” you ask, nervousness seeping into your words.

diluc’s eyes widened slightly. “no, no, it’s not that,” he assures you, quietly noting your sigh of relief. “actually, i think i might have done something wrong instead.”

“huh?” you respond. “i apologize if i gave off the impression that i am mad at you, i can assure you that i’m not.”

“no, no, it’s…” diluc sighs, trailing off. how should i put this? he asks himself. you’re clearly not lured by lavish gifts or swayed by acts of service, so he really has only one option left: telling you in a straightforward manner. it’s best to be forthright, he reassures himself.

“i like you.” diluc confesses, causing a radiant smile to spread across your face. this is it! diluc thinks to himself. they’re happy with my confession and they like me ba-

his thoughts are interrupted by your response. “aw, i like you too! you’re one of my best friends!” you chirp, your smile still persisting. you were happy with diluc finally being able to adequately express his emotions! you knew he struggled with that sort of thing and platonic affection was always difficult for him to express.

“no, (y/n), i like you in a romantic manner,” he states, his voice slightly dull. it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but diluc was exasperated. there was only so much he could do.

“oh, uh, yeah,” you scratch the back of your head as you feel your face heat up. this was awkward. what he just said certainly sounded like a confession but... “i... knew that? haven’t we been dating for the last few months?”

any emotion diluc had on his face is quickly replaced with an expressionless mask and dull eyes, but you knew diluc well enough to know that this expression meant that he was experiencing several forms of sheer panic.

you laugh nervously and lean in, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “i just thought you were being super chaste in courting me,” you confess, but diluc still looks dazed.

“if…” he begins, causing you to pull back ever-so-slightly. “if we’ve been dating for a few months, then can i..?”

diluc’s words trail off, but his subtle glance down to your lips lets you know exactly what he means. you smile softly and give a nod of permission as a scarlet blush spreads across his pale skin.

he leans in, his hands cupping your face gently, as if you were made of the finest porcelain, and kisses you, clarifying the confusion the two of you had accidentally held with each other for months.

XIAO

xiao, over his long lifetime, has learned many things. he’s quite certain that almond tofu is the tastiest food in all of liyue, wangshu inn is the place that irritates him the least, and the polearm is the best weapon for fighting.

however, one thing he has not learned is how to court someone -- especially when that certain someone is a fragile mortal.

he’s not quite sure how to court you, so he starts doing things for you that he would like others to do for him.

when you visit him, he offers you a piece of almond tofu. he offers to kill any foes that stand in your path. he offers to sit with you at night and watch the scenery together.

this type of courting lasts for approximately 48 hours. xiao is a forthright man, never having desired to beat around the bush. he’s not impatient, but he knows he only has a limited portion of his life to spend with you.

so, as you plan to exit his room in wangshu inn after spending time reading on his balcony while he brooded silently in the chair next to you, xiao realizes it’s now or never.

as you stop to open the door, xiao calls your name, causing you to turn around and look at him inquisitively.

before you can ask him what’s wrong, the adeptus puts his hand by your head, effectively pinning you between him and the door with one arm, leaving room for you to wriggle away if you felt uncomfortable.

“i wish to court you,” he states in a low tone. his amber eyes pierce into yours with an intensity you’ve never seen in his gaze before, but a soft vulnerability swims within their depths, disappearing as quickly as you notice it, like a skittish fish seeing a shadow.

“oh,” you breathe, overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation. the air between you and xiao is now thick enough to cut a knife through.

seemingly coming back to his senses, xiao drops his hand abruptly and takes a step back. if he wishes to apologize, he shows no indication of doing so. instead, his unfaltering, analytical gaze tries to interpret the emotion within yours.

“alright,” you respond, after a few more seconds of silence. “i’ll gladly let you court me.”

a soft exhale escapes xiao’s lips upon your confirmation and a soft, bashful smirk crosses his face, before he surges forward and pulls you close in a hug, hands splaying across your back.

you let out a small noise of surprise, but smile as xiao buries his face into the crook of your neck, conveying the emotions he had trouble expressing. you wrap one arm around xiao’s torso, returning his hug, and the other hand sneaks into his hair, playing with the fluffy green locks.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

“hm?” you respond, not having heard him properly, but rather than repeating himself, he only tightens his grip, as if he was afraid you would fall through his fingers. you begin to worry until you feel him smile, causing a soft smile to spread across your face as well.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #xiao x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact scenarios #diluc headcanons #diluc scenarios #xiao headcanons #xiao scenarios #*xiao #*diluc #*writing #*headcanons

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #techno x reader #yandere philza x reader #yandere technoblade x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader #technoblade dream smp #philza dream smp #technoblade dreamsmp #philza dreamsmp #phil dream smp #phil dreamsmp #mcyt au #dsmp #mcyt god au

[jotatetsuken]

I GOT ONE FOR YAMI! you (reader) tending to his wounds after a mission 🥰

FNCNFMMSMS OMG ILY GEN 😭♥️ I LOVE YAMI SUKEHIRO SO MUCH I DONT EXPRESS IT ENOUGH

Shyna's Seiyuu Birthday Celebration, Edition 2: Junichi Suwabe

TW: Mentions of blood, punching

The thing about Yami, for those that don’t know him, is that he always only wears a white vest, black trousers with an extra layer of tan leather, and the Black Bulls robe. (I mean look at the GIF below, omg I love him.)

So when he goes on a mission, you, a fellow soldier in the Black Bulls, an acting vice-captain while Nacht is away, always go along with him.

You not only almost never see eye to eye with him, but also possess healing magic (like Mimosa and Kahono) but with sand and mud, so you’d find yourself to be handy in many situations.

People will think that you worry too much about him, and you scoff it off, swatting your hand in the air, saying, “I’m most certainly NOT worried about him. He always wants to put himself at risk and that’s not very wise of him.”

However, you start to overthink and wonder, “why am I so worried whenever he’s wounded? Why am I so worried when he puts himself on the line for everyone’s sake, I have no clue what’s happening…”

In one such mission, before Yami could use his katana, the enemy punches him so hard on the stomach, that he ends up coughing up blood and the katana flung elsewhere. He managed, however, to still stand even after the enemy lay a barrage of punches after him.

You got so pissed at the enemy that you used your sand & mud magic to create a quagmire on the ground for the enemy to be sucked in, only for the head to be seen, and you knock them out with a nice knockout punch with sand.

You then rush to Yami’s aid, make him sit up, your lips quiver, and say, “Captain Yami, are you okay? Let me heal you real quick…” That’s when you notice that Yami’s breathing had gotten ragged for a while and while you were approaching him, he first swats your hand, saying with a stern tone, “I’m fine, (F/N). Go look out for others. Don’t worry about me.”

Then, you glare at Yami, speaking with a more stem tone, “Captain, I don’t mean this in the slightest disrespect, but you’re surely out of your goddamn mind if I’m supposed to let you go like this when your presence is of utmost importance. The mission isn’t over, you’re still needed.”

Yami then sighs, and says, “okay, my stomach hurts real bad.” To which, you nod, and lift his vest slowly to see his abs being battered and bruised but when you take a peek at his chest, you see that he even took punches there. So, you had no choice but to rip his vest apart.

He then glares at you when you do so, saying, “Oi, are you out of your mind? What do you think you’re…” causing you to put your hands on his mouth to keep him quiet as you say, “I have another vest for you to wear. Besides, I’m not gonna leave to hang dry, or do you want me to?” you smirk at him, while he smirks back, sighs and says, “fine then, brat. Go ahead, do your magic.”

You then use your mud magic to create patches of mud near the bruises, and the sand to absorb the blood on the body and moving your hands in a swift motion, the mud and the sand roll off his body, causing his body to heal up faster. However, that’s when you get a clear view of his chiseled body. Your mouth gaped wide open as you saw his proportionate chest and abs and wondered as to how he was able to maintain such a body in the midst of these crazy missions, while Yami sat up, lifted your face up by your chin, smirks at you again, and says, “like what you see?”, causing your cheeks to fluster heavily, and your eyes to go in a different direction.

»»————-　♡　————-««

I hope this helps 😭

Also tagging @thoughtfullyrainynightmare and @simpingforthisonedeer ‘cause it’s a Black Clover post after ages baby!!!

#yami sukehiro #black clover yami #yami sukehiro x reader #talk to aisha #🗡 gen #musings of an extrovert #shyna’s seiyuu birthday celebration #shyna bonds with moots #junichi suwabe #tw blood #black clover headcanons #black clover x reader #black clover #tw blood mention

[its-me-im-coraline]

Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

#måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #damiano david imagine #damiano david #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio

[griffintail]

Hello! So I was new at your blog and I feel like ive discovered the 9th cloud of heaven 🤯 so I don't know if youre in the mood but i loved your technoblade child reader fics and i really wanted to ask if you could write a overprotective!tecnho x f!child reader? i feel like it sucks so im not pushing you to do it-

I probably took it a different way than what you were thinking but I hope you still enjoy!

Utmost Care

Pairing: Technoblade X F! Reader

Warnings: Overprotective nature, Light Angst, Mentions of Swords, Mentions of Scars

~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno didn’t hold a lot of things with value but when he finally did, they were protected with the utmost care. That goes the same for living beings. His daughter certainly was one of those beings.

All of (Y/N)’s life, Techno always kept his eye on her or made someone he trusted with his life was watching her, meaning only he or Phil watched her. If Phil couldn’t watch her at the time, Techno then took her with him, keeping her close the entire time. And, if (Y/N) could tell the truth, as she got older, it was tiring.

She was thirteen years old but she wasn’t allowed to go off on her own. She either had to go with Techno and Phil, the only time she could be alone was in her own room. It was extremely tiring when she couldn’t learn new things that could be considered dangerous. Techno wouldn’t teach her to fight or brew or enchant because he said she’d never need it.

She just wanted to do something without the need for approval. She just wanted to be her own person and live her life as she wanted.

So…that’s how she started sneaking out hours at a time. She was only allowed her own peace and quiet in her room? Alright, she used that to her advantage and locked her door when she knew Techno was busy either tending to things and wouldn’t check on her for hours. When she left, she went to the one place she knew mischief was encouraged.

“Uncle Tommy!” (Y/N) grinned as she walked in the door.

“Here comes trouble!” Tommy grinned.

Tommy indeed encouraged the things Techno considered bad. He helped teach the girl how to fight, taught her to brew, showed her a few things with enchanting, and most certainly let her go off on her own around L’Manberg or the SMP, though he did warn her to be more careful in the SMP lands.

(Y/N) felt free and felt like her own person finally without a weight of watchful eye on her.

It was one of those days once more. Tommy was teaching (Y/N) the ways of the sword.

“Come on, stop trying to hit me and hit me!” Tommy grinned cheekily, then yelping as (Y/N) swung as hard as she could with a smirk.

It was just another day for the pair, they just didn’t know it wasn’t another day for Techno. (Y/N) always left when Techno was on his own because he did get distracted when Phil was around or Phil tended to help him. So, if Phil was around, going out was a no-go. Phil usually showed up in the early mornings so she could tell if she could sneak out pretty early in the day.

But, today, Phil had been held up in L’Manberg and came late.

“Hey mate!” Phil called as he walked over to Techno’s.

“Phil, you’re pretty late,” Techno said.

“Yeah, had to help with some things in L’Manberg first.” Phil shrugged. “Farming all by yourself today?”

“(Y/N) said she wanted to read and she might come out later,” Techno told him as they went into the house, Techno resting his hoe by the door. “(Y/N)! The old man’s here.”

“Fuck off mate.” Phil laughed.

Techno smirked as he cleaned off his hands but frowned when he heard no movement in the rooms above.

“(Y/N)!” Techno called once more.

“She might be sleeping in, let her be.” Phil waved it off. “She’s alright.”

But the voices whispered worry, only fueling Techno’s.

“She doesn’t usually sleep in. I’m going to check on her.” Techno said before going up the ladder.

He went to (Y/N)’s room knocking, but there was once more silence. He didn’t like that.

“(Y/N).” He said trying the door handle, but found it locked. “What the-Hey. What’s with the locked door?”

“Techno?” Phil called up concerned by the conversation he was hearing.

She wasn’t saying anything though and the voices whispered panic and Techno reacted. He took a step back before kicking in the door. Phil jumped before quickly coming up the ladder as Techno went into the room.

“Techno!” Phil shouted as he followed after.

Techno’s breath came quicker out of his nose as Phil came in.

“(Y/N)’s not here. Someone took her.” Techno moved past Phil.

Phil looked at his son leaving the room before looking at the teenager’s room. The only mess was the door but (Y/N) indeed wasn’t here and his wings puffed before he rapidly following after Techno.

“You know, the last thing I thought Techno would do was not teach you how to use a sword,” Tommy said as he leaned back on the bench overlooking the river below his base.

(Y/N) sat next to him, both of their training swords laying down close by.

“I always ask him to teach me but he just tells me I don’t need to learn how to fight. I’ll be fine.” She huffed. “What am I going to do if a mob manages to get in? Can you imagine if a creeper managed to come into our house? It could just blow me and the house up because I couldn’t do anything, I might as well just stand still.”

“Ah, he’s always had a stick up his ass.” Tommy waved his hand. “And an ego. He probably thinks he can keep everything from hurting you.”

“But that’s the point uncle Tommy!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “If he taught me, it’s almost a guarantee I won’t get hurt. I could protect myself and go out and meet people. Do whatever I want.”

“He’ll figure it out eventually,” Tommy assured her.

“Alright!”

Both of them jumped as they looked around wildly, Tommy giving a scream, hearing the voice of said man. Then, a moment later, they realized it was their walkies and shared a look.

“Whoever has my kid can bring her back now and have a painless death.”

“Uh oh.” They both muttered.

(Y/N) scrambled to get her things as Tommy stood up in a panic.

“Bye!” (Y/N) shouted before sprinting towards home.

How the hell was she supposed to explain this? Oh no dad, I just decided to wander in the forest with no warm clothes?

“It’s going to be a shitty day.” She muttered as she slipped into the portal and sprinted down the pathway towards the home portal.

Deciding it was better before her father started searching homes, she took out her walkie.

“Dad!” She spoke. “What’s the problem?”

Techno froze in his path, looking at Phil before taking off his walkie. “(Y/N), where are you right now?”

“I just…went for a little walk. My legs were starting to cramp up.” She lied, wincing slightly.

“Your door was locked (Y/N). What happened?”

“I don’t know the door handle must have broke.” She tried as she felt relief seeing the home portal.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” Techno asked in frustration.

None of this was adding up. What the hell was going on?

“Nothing dad, everything is—” She stepped out of the portal and froze when she was met with two netherite decorated family members. “Fine…”

Phil’s eyes were wide as Techno stood there quiet for a moment.

…

“YOU WENT IN THE NETHER!?” Techno shouted throwing up his arms.

“Dad, look I can explain—” She tried.

“No! I-What were you thinking?!”

“I—”

Techno looked her over. “Is that a sword?! What—You don’t fight! What the hell were you doing?!”

“Look—”

“Mate—” Phil tried to even cut in.

“No! We’re going home.”

Techno went to grab her arm but she moved back.

“LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!” (Y/N) shouted as she shook.

Techno stood in shock as Phil took a step back, this was between father and daughter.

“I-I-Yes! I snuck out! And yes! I have a sword! But its-I just wanted to live for once! You don’t let me go out on my own! You don’t let me train or learn anything you do! I stay at home! And read and learn about farming and crafting basic ass shit! And that’s it! If I’m lucky I get to go out to the village with you keeping a close ass eye on me! And I’m tired of it!”

Techno was quiet as (Y/N) took deep breaths before he came towards her.

“You know that to keep you safe.”

“Oh, shove it, dad! What’s the point of being safe when I don’t know anything! I felt like I was going crazy and I-I can’t do that anymore daddy. I can’t.”

(Y/N) had tears in her eyes. She hated it; she was so tired of it. She was so tired.

Techno was stood in shock hesitating before coming over and hugging her tightly.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered to her. “I…I didn’t know it was hurting so much…”

It was a bit awkward of a hug with his armor on but (Y/N) hugged him back regardless.

Techno had wanted to just keep her safe. He had so many enemies and seen so many things in his life…He just didn’t want his little girl to see all the same things he had and he didn’t want her to carry the same scars. But all the while, it seemed he was hurting her in a different way.

“I’m sorry. We’ll figure it out, ok?”

“Please.” She nodded.

He’ll figure it out, he’ll still make sure she was safe, but he’d figure it out for his little girl to be happy…

====================================

General Taglist: @devilchicc @technoblades-sword

(WHY CAN"T I TAG YOU)

#technoblade x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt oneshots #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp x reader

[bimrsadler]

Heyyy, how are you doing today?? Are your requests still open? Cause if so, would you mind writing an Arthur x reader, could be gender neutral if you prefer it, if possible in a modern setting where they are doing a roadtrip and stop at a hotel but if that's too weird don't worry about it, I just really want a "there was only one bed" type of thing doesn't need to be a smut or anything like that just a silly fluffy one? Idk I am sorry, if this is too complicated don't worry about it, either way, hope you are having a nice day/night!! I really like your writing btw!

Safety in a storm

A/N: thank you and it’s not weird at all, no need to be sorry! I love a fun trope/cliche honestly lol, hope it’s what you were looking for!

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn reader

Words: 1,357

Warnings/tags: fluff, mutual pining, “there was only one bed”

—————

Your hand dangled lazily out the truck window, feeling the warm breeze flow between your fingers. Lightning flickered through the dark clouds on the horizon, adding to the already electric atmosphere of your post-concert high. The company beside you certainly made things exciting as well.

When you asked Arthur to attend the concert with you, he admittedly wasn’t your first choice. Your friend had flaked at the last minute and while you knew Arthur was a fan of the music, the idea made you nervous. You were close and had known each other for a good while, but a road trip was a lot of one on one time that you were unsure how to navigate. Lately you found your heart rate picking up and words not quite connecting smoothly whenever he was around.

The night had gone better than expected though, you and Arthur had a great time at the show and the conversation flowed freely on the way there. When you first started getting to know each other he was more reserved. But after some time you cracked through the hard shell around him and discovered he could be soft, easy-going and kind.

“Damn I don’t like the look of them clouds…” he grumbled in his deep voice. As if on cue droplets of rain pattered the windshield slowly at first, before quickly becoming a downpour.

“I didn’t even think it was supposed to rain today.” You pulled out your phone to check the forecast, “we’re under a storm warning and it looks like it’s gonna last all night.”

Arthur looked worried and was clearly struggling to see through the curtains of rain. “Shit, maybe we should find a place to stay? If you’re okay with it that is?” He shot you a nervous glance that made your stomach flip.

“Yeah I’m fine with that, don’t think we really have a choice anyway.” You chuckled meekly and rubbed your neck, “I’ll navigate to the nearest place but reception’s bad right now…”

After a nerve wracking drive in sheets of rain punctuated by Arthur’s cursing, you finally got to the destination. It was a roadside motel, not the best you’d seen but still with a charming enough quality and a diner across the road.

You stepped into a puddle as you got out of the car, breaking up the reflection of the neon signs wavering on the wet blacktop. Rushing to the entrance to get out of the rain, Arthur still managed to take the opportunity to open the door for you, holding his hat to secure it from blowing away as he waited for you to run in first.

Arriving at the front desk Arthur pulled out his wallet and gave you an “I got it” look. The receptionist smiled and welcomed you. “Howdy ma’am, what kinda rooms ya got available?”

“Not many I’m afraid, just a few single beds.”

Arthur paused and fidgeted with his wallet, looking at you questioningly. “I uh…that okay? You can have the bed,” he muttered.

You nodded, comfortable with sharing a room with Arthur but suddenly terrified of what might or might not happen. But why did it matter? You invited him as a friend after all.

Drenched from the rain you removed your jacket as you entered the room while Arthur did the same, trying to avert your eyes from the visual of the soaked white shirt clinging to his broad physique, hair and muscles showing through the thin fabric.

“Look like I said…I can sleep on the floor and you can take the bed. I hog the sheets anyway,” he laughed sheepishly as he rubbed his stubble.

“Arthur it’s fine, it’s a big enough bed.”

“It ain’t that I just don’t wanna make ya uncomfortable…”

“I promise I don’t mind, it’s just sleeping.” You worried that you didn’t sound convincing and weren’t hiding your nervousness well. You trusted Arthur implicitly and it was just sleeping, but you found yourself pining for something more.

“So uh, ya mind if I take this off then?” Arthur gestured to his shirt awkwardly.

“Course not, I wouldn’t ask you to sleep in wet clothes,” a flushing heat spread to your face and chest as you walked to the bathroom to avoid giving yourself away.

When you came back out came Arthur was standing beside the bed, adjusting the blankets so that more was on your side, and putting an extra pillow under your own. “I don’t need as much so I thought you might want ’em.”

Trying your hardest to be nonchalant about how good he looked, you thanked him with a smile and sat on the edge of the bed to take off your watch and jewelry for the night. A booming crack suddenly cascaded through the room causing the lights to flicker, and you to jump. “Shit…” you breathed shakily.

You felt Arthur’s calloused fingertips gently touch your shoulder, giving you goosebumps despite the humid air. “Y’okay? Don’t like thunder?”

“No, I’ve hated storms since I was a kid. We had bad ones where I grew up, tornadoes and everything.” Your voice wavered and you couldn’t help feel foolish. “Honestly it’s embarrassing.”

“Hey…” Arthur’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Ain’t gotta be embarrassed, we’re all afraid a somethin’ and I’d say storms are pretty understandable.” He sat beside you with enough distance to be respectful of your space, but still set a soothing hand on your shoulder. For a man of his stature and at times intimidation, he was amazingly tender.

“Anythin’ I can do to make ya feel better?”

Your mind raced as you considered your next words carefully, but your heart came to the conclusion that it was now or never. “What if I said I’ve wanted this for a while now? Your company?”

Arthur looked down sheepishly, the blush blooming in his face like a flower. “Well, I’d say your taste in company is questionable,” he chuckled, “but welcome.”

You brought your palm to Arthur’s cheek, delicately stroking with your thumb. “And I’d say you gotta work on that confidence, cowboy.”

He raised his chin and smiled, the light and careful touch on your shoulder became firmer as it moved down to your waist. His other hand cupped your face and pulled you in, pressing his lips to yours gingerly.

Briefly, he pulled back to look in your eyes and gauge your reaction. You responded with a reassuring smile and a hand on his sturdy chest, the thump of his exhilarated heart pulsing against your palm. With that, you were pulled in closer as Arthur continued. His lips were warm with long, languid movements, the short beard he sported softer than expected against your skin. The scent of fresh air and rain still lingered on him, mingling warmly with hints of leather and smoke. Giddiness rushed through you, realizing you had no idea how much you really wanted this.

Arthur pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, keeping his eyes closed momentarily as if savoring the moment. “How’s that for confidence,” his gravelly voice asked with a sly smirk.

“Pretty damn good, handsome.”

The thunder cracked suddenly causing you to flinch as you’d nearly forgotten about it all together.

“Here, how bout we getcha nice ’n comfortable?” Arthur stood to pull the covers back and waited for you to get underneath them before joining. “Just so y’know I’m still happy to give ya space if ya change yer mind.”

“Thank you Arthur,” you turned over to your side with your back to him and pulled his arm over your waist, “but I want this.”

“I’ve wanted this for a while too darlin’,” he planted a kiss to your shoulder. “Sure am glad ya invited me tonight.”

You quipped, “even if it means being stuck in this crappy motel?”

Arthur chuckled, “way I see it I’m just lucky to be in any bed with ya.”

Arthur embraced you tighter as the storm continued, his heavy frame behind you a calming presence. Breathing in his scent, you exhaled all of the tension you’d been carrying, relieved that your feelings were shared and out in the open.

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x gn reader #arthur morgan x gender neutral reader #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic

[forhereyesonlyyy]

love call. // iz*one, kcw. // one-shot.

in which missing your hardworking girlfriend causes you to do ungodly things, like staying up until two in the morning to drag her out for a late night date.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: chaewon on the brain all day 🥰 this is just something short and sweet for all my fellow chaewon thinkers 😩☝️ i wish to see her on a stage again 🥺

tags: fluff, wlw, established relationship, goofy, is it obvious i'm running out of things to say here.

warnings: none.

Perhaps your friends were right when they said that your girlfriend was the only person that could get you to act right because if she were around you right at this moment, you wouldn't be walking around the empty streets at two in the morning wearing shorts and a simple jacket. But you couldn't sleep to save your life, and you were getting tired just pacing around your room. Besides, what's a better plan than to take a short stroll around the neighborhood?

You could have probably watched another Netflix movie or played until your eyes started burning, but contrary to popular belief, you actually wanted to live beyond your 40s. It's not like walking around in the dark with absolutely no regard for what might be watching in the shadows was any safer, but at least you were having fun!

The city was practically dead anyway. Not even cars were seen driving around the streets. It truly felt like you were the only person in the world, and you loved that feeling. But it would have been more lovely if your girlfriend was with you.

Being an idol sure is demanding. I hope she's taking care of herself.

As if she could hear your thoughts from the other side of the city, your phone starts ringing and the special ringtone you set up just for when she calls or texts you starts filling the air. You immediately pulled out your phone and grinned when you saw her contact name on the screen.

You eagerly pressed the green button and put the phone against your ear, "Hi, beautiful."

Kim Chaewon laughs from the other line and you could feel your heart growing twice its size. Oh, how you longed to hear her laugh in person instead of through your phone. IZ*ONE has been busy with their Japanese promotions and they only got to go home a month ago, even then they had to attend a lot more activities. They had no time for rest, or to have a nice day off. It was the main reason why you have been so very worried about your girlfriend.

"I knew you'd be awake. Can't sleep?" Chaewon asks. You could hear her grunt, she was probably getting ready to sleep. While you appreciated her checking up on you at this ungodly hour, you wished that she just went straight to sleep. God knows how long of a day she probably had.

"As always. What's your excuse?" You jog across the street, your eyes fixed on the glowing sign of a cafè. Now you were fully aware of how you just stumbled into a street full of stores that are open until after midnight, and you have never been more thankful for bringing your wallet with you.

"Not to sound like I'm in love with you but," Chaewon pauses, and you could almost see her biting her bottom lip out of both nervousness and enthusiasm. "I was missing you— have been missing you. A lot. Too much, maybe?" Chaewon laughs at herself, and then mutters some nonsense that you couldn't decipher because her words made you stop on your tracks and tear up just a little.

Maybe you were too sensitive, or too dramatic, but you couldn't even put how much you missed her into words. For the months she was gone, you lost count of how many times you wished she would just come back to you. Perhaps you really were too attached, because at some point, you were in over your head at the thought of Chaewon realizing that romance did not have a place in her life as a rising star.

It was your biggest fear, getting abandoned by the person you love the most. Before Chaewon became your girlfriend, she was your most precious childhood friend. There was not a time in your life where she was never there for you, and you truly belived that your friendship would go on for the rest of your life.

You realized that your feelings for Chaewon was more than what a normal person would feel for their best friend when you entered your new high school together. She was just... glowing when you both attended the entrance ceremony, and you vividly remember how she gently took your hand in hers and promised that she'll do her best to make you proud.

But she didn't need to promise anything. Chaewon was already perfect in your eyes, you knew she wouldn't disappoint you ever.

Then on the same night she was announced to be a member of IZ*ONE, Chaewon expressed her gratitude to you by coming into your house and wordlessly kissing you while in tears. You didn't need her to confess her feelings through words since her kiss had already told you everything she wanted you to hear.

And now here you were, stronger than ever despite not having been seen each other for months too long.

"I miss you too, Chae," You replied after collecting yourself. There was no way that you would just allow yourself to break down in tears in the middle of the street. "Tell you what, the moment you're free to hang out, I'll get you that delicious strawberry cake we always loved consuming."

Chaewon laughs again, and the sound just makes you grin like a crazy person, "I'll hold you to that, (Y/N)." A yawn escapes her, and she groans. She probably knows that now you know that she's tired, you'll go on and on about how she should go to sleep. And you most certainly will!

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll text you when I wake up." You said. You did want to talk more, you wanted to hear Chaewon's voice for so many more hours but you'd hate to be the reason why she's so worn out. There will be opportunities some other time, I just have to be patient.

"Mm~ okay, I will," You hear some shuffling in the background. It was Chaewon making herself comfortable in her bed. "Wait. (Y/N), my love, are you seriously outside right now?" Your girlfriend questions. And all of a sudden, she didn't sound so tired anymore.

You scratched your head, "Um. No. What makes you think that?" It was never a good idea to lie to the person that knows you better than anyone else, but you had to try!

"I can literally hear the wind against your mic." Chaewon said. You squeezed your eyes shut, of course you would lose the battle before it even started.

Sighing, you turned away from the various shops, "Fine, fine. I am outside. I just... took a little walk because I couldn't fall asleep. I'll be going back home now, where I'm safe and where my beloved wouldn't yell at me." You replied with a teasing smile although Chaewon couldn't see it.

"It's dangerous to be out so late in the night, babe. I thought I told you that if you can't sleep, you can just call me?" You could hear Chaewon sit back up. Her tone was firm, you knew you couldn't joke around with her anymore. You take a seat at the nearest empty bench and snuggled yourself in your jacket. It was getting colder, but something inside you told you to not go home just yet despite your girlfriend's scolding.

"But you've been overworked to the bone, Chae. I didn't want to be an inconvenience," You admitted. You nervously fiddled with the zipper of your jacket. "You shouldn't even be calling me right now, you know?"

"(Y/N)... I'll use my time however I want, and if it's to talk to you, I'll take every sleepless nights I can get," Oh, you were so hopelessly in love with this woman. You leaned back on the bench as tears suddenly started falling down your cheeks. It absolutely infuriated you how Chaewon just knew what to say to you. "You're never a bother, okay? I love you, I really do." Chaewon means every word that she says, you could feel it in your heart.

You held back a sob, "I love you more, dummy."

Chaewon explodes in a burst of adorable giggles, "You're the dummy here! But in all seriousness, please go home. I wouldn't want you to get sick when I'm not there to take care of you." Even though your girlfriend was right, the brightly lit shops further down the street made several light bulbs in your head illuminate, and you just couldn't pass up on the opportunity to do that.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going back now." You said, now jogging towards the bike rental shop. The staff sitting by the entrance gave you a small wave as you approached him.

"Good girl," Chaewon yawns again, and you hear her collapse against the pillows. "Don't stay awake for too long now. Love you." Her words were slurred, you just knew she was one second away from running off into dreamland.

You smiled brightly, "Love you more." And with that, you hung up. You finally looked at the old man sitting by the bikes with shining, eager eyes.

Genius, that is what I am.

~

Exactly thirty minutes later, you start regretting your life choices. You were standing right outside IZ*ONE's backyard dead in the night, it wouldn't be surprising if someone mistakes you as a burglar or an obsessive fan and decides to call the cops on you. But you were already there, you would only wear yourself out if you decide to turn back now. Taking a deep breath, you carefully dropped the bike on the ground and took out your phone.

Before you could think to contact Chaewon once again, the sound of footsteps hurriedly approaching made you panic. I'm really about to be arrested like this, huh? It's been a fun life I guess.

"EUNBI-UNNIE, THERE'S A THIEF— wait, (Y/N)?!"

As if it the deity of fortune was looking down on you, Kim Chaewon stands a few meters in front of you wearing a shocked look on her face and a single slipper on her hand. It was probably what she was going to attack you with, had she not realized that it was you who had technically snuck into their backyard.

You smiled sheepishly at your startled girlfriend, "Surprise?" You barely finished speaking when Chaewon throws herself onto you, literally. You lost your balance and fell into the grass. Chaewon squeals into your ear and plants several kisses onto your face, and you laugh as she does so.

Chaewon pauses and holds your face for a good minute, staring at you as if she couldn't believe that you were right there with her. Then she engulfs you in a more gentle hug, and you wrap your arms around her waist, taking pleasure in the feeling of her loving embrace. Gods, you were about to cry again. It has been way too long since you were physically with Chaewon. You were almost willing to forget whatever plan you had and just cuddle with her for the rest of the night.

"I thought I told you to go home and sleep, you dummy!" Chaewon hits your shoulder, almost in tears herself. You raised yourself from the ground so that she was sitting on your lap, and you rested your head on her shoulder. Just her mere presence would have been enough for you, but now that she was right there, you didn't dare to not take advantage of the moment.

You hugged her closer than you ever have before, and you tilted your head to look into her beautiful eyes that never ceased to make you feel safe and appreciated, "I really love you, Chaewon." The pure sincerity on your voice was what really pushed Chaewon to let go of the restraints and let her tears fall free.

"I love you. I'm glad you're here." Chaewon slightly drips her head down to catch your lips with hers. It felt as if a collection of the world's biggest and most beautiful fireworks had set off inside your heart as you returned the affection. Chaewon always had that effect on you, she made every kiss feel like the first time and it just absolutely makes you swoon. The way she would carefully run her hand through your hair during it all made your heart go crazy.

You were never going to get tired of being in love with Kim Chaewon. Even if the two of you somehow ended up being on the opposite ends of the world, your hearts would always be together. Or something like that.

"This is probably a dumb question, but," Chaewon pulls away and smiles at you. Oh, yeah. Her smiles make your brain go haywire as well. "What are you doing here, anyway?" Your girlfriend asks.

"I'm taking you out on the best date you've ever had, baby," You said with a wide grin. (You never knew, but every time you showed her that stupidly cute smile, Chaewon falls for you even more.) Your face falls immediately a second after, however. "I-If that's okay. I mean, it is pretty late and you're exhausted."

Chaewon beams at you, and gosh you could just feel all her love through it, "I'd love to go on a date with you, (Y/N)," She then takes your face in her hands again, and her eyes immediately drop down to your lips that she has missed so very much. "But maybe after this."

Yeah, now that was a plan you could get behind.

#izone oneshots #izone scenarios #izone x reader #izone reactions #izone imagines #kim chaewon x reader #kim chaewon imagines #kim chaewon oneshots #kim chaewon scenarios #kim chaewon reactions #girl group oneshots #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #girl group reactions

[skellebonez]

Dreamscapes

Ok, this fumble is on me this time. I selected AM instead of PM and the prompt posted blank. But no worries! Unfortunately this prompt was sent back in May with no indication of what AU this was for so... uh... I guessed and put it in @winterpower98 's Cursed AU because I didn't know what other AU had written protective Macaque for.

I have also rewritten this prompt 4 times because I was just not happy with it and I am posting the version I am most happy with because it doesn't have to be perfect! Just has to be. And long as someone enjoys it!

I don’t think that’s how that works./No, we’re going to talk about this now.

Macaque growled deep in his throat, but Mei could tell it wasn't directed at either her or MK. Or, more likely, just the situation as a whole. He was just as frustrated with the situation as she was, if not more.

"I can carry him if y-"

"No!" Macaque yelled, freezing in place as if his own yell had startled him. "No, I've got him."

Mei said nothing, only watched as he continued to walk up the stairs to the palace.

There were so many stairs. Too many stairs. But going back down was not an option, not in the slightest. Down was only darkness, a void that neither of the two wanted to chance going through. Not after the last time. It had taken them a while to figure out what was going on, far longer than they wanted to admit to even each other, but it was obvious now that they figured it out.

Well. Technically Macaque figured it out. Something about lucid dreaming and the lack of sound being a tell, as well as the fact they should not have been in the same hall a third time. And the fact that sections of the artwork looked like old black and white TV screens paused on a specific frame of a certain show about a certain Monkey King.

It was ridiculous. The more Mei thought about it the worse she felt for her friend. It should have been simple, go to this place and grab a relic of ancient power and bring it back to Mount Huaguo so Sun Wukong could lock it away in his treasury so no one else could use it against others. Mei had tagged along because friend adventure and Macaque had been the one to guide them to the relic’s general location. The logic had been that the more of them there were looking for it the faster they could find it and go home.

Now it was taking them far longer (or maybe not, time was odd here) than it should have.

Mei couldn’t blame Macaque for doing what he did. She reacted the same way to seeing MK like that, holding onto the relic with his eyes glowing and looking like he was going to fall over any second. That’s why they both rushed to his side and grabbed it, attempting to take it from his grasp.

And that’s why they accidentally found themselves where they were. Macaque and Mei trapped in some kind of endless palace that looked like it was lifted out of paintings of stories of the Journey To The West, MK’s unconscious body (and why he was unconscious they had no idea) slumped on Macaque’s back, and Mei with a bandaged arm from falling into the darkness when the palace started to shift and sway and she hit… something.

They didn’t know what hid in the shadows, only that it had hurt and torn and Macaque had spent too much time bandaging her arm and looking over his shoulder and refusing to let either of them out of his sight completely after that. Even now his tail was wrapped tight around her wrist, keeping her close.

Close as they wandered the palace, apparently looking for “MK’s being” as Macaque had so simply put it.

Mei didn’t really know what that meant but she knew she could trust the immortal so she just went with that anyway.

“Do you think the relic is doing this?” Mei asked as she looked behind her for what must have been the 100th time. Still only darkness.

“Not entirely,” Macaque said seriously, tail tightening just a bit as his 6 ears flicked for not the first time in the last 5 minutes (had it been 5 minutes?). “I’m almost positive it’s MK that is causing this. Not intentionally, he certainly wouldn’t have tried to hurt you, but he’s doing something. I don’t think this relic is meant to have multiple people using it at once, it may be malfunctioning because of that. Trying to use our minds as well as his as the primary source for… whatever this is.”

“Whatever this IS-WHAT!?” Mei never got to finish her sentence. In an instant the palace steps before them started to crumple and warp, as did the steps behind and the walls. The floor became smooth under them, sending her right into Macaque and MK with a yelp. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing good!” Macaque said, and the floor smoothed out more and the walls and stairs rose until…

Walls. Just walls. Blank, sort of orange walls that had been haphazardly painted, no doors or windows. Just 4 walls, a floor… and no ceiling.

“So... what do we do now?” Mei asked with a scowl, gesturing with her good arm to the four walls that surrounded them. Macaque’s ears fluttered but she could tell that no matter how much he tried there was no sound to be heard, not even the whisper of wind past the walls, and there was no sun or moon or stars to be seen above them as the walls rose well past the sky above them… if she could even call it a sky. "Jump? Really high? I don't think that's how that works here, we tried that before and nothing."

Macaque said nothing, simply sat on the floor and pulled her down to sit with him. She followed, the two just… sitting.

“I think the relic is trying to keep us away from MK,” Macaque said after a few minutes of silence. “That’s the only explanation I can think of."

“So unless we wake up we’re trapped like fish in a barrel,” Mei grumbled, banging her head against a wall slightly in frustration. “Great. Not much we can do, I guess.”

“Oh… OH!” Macaque said after a moment, ears perking up as if he had just had the brightest idea. “Of course, why didn’t I think of this sooner? This place is… On a scale of 1 to 10 how vividly can you picture an apple?”

There was dead silence between the two of them, Mei staring at the immortal like he had grown another head.

“What does that have to do with… anything?” She asked eventually, looking back up at the impossibly high walls of their room. “How’s an apple going to help us?”

“We’re asleep,” Macaque said simply, readjusting MK on his back again. “Or in a sleep like state. Everything here feels real, and there are limitation, but perhaps because we’re aware of it-”

“OH! Oh I get it!” Mei said with a laugh as she held out her hands in front of her. “Maybe I can

… Picture an apple…”

The two waited with baited breath until suddenly, almost too suddenly, an apple appeared in her hands as if it had always been there. Round and red and shiny and having weight to it and feeling as real in her hand as the wall she leaned against and the scratch on her arm that Macaque had bandaged for her so carefully. And if she could make an apple…

Just as quickly as it appeared the apple was gone, replaced instead with a giant sledge hammer.

“That’ll work!” Macaque laughed out in approval as Mei gripped it like she had used one every day for her entire life and smashed the closest wall.

She barely noticed that her arm, once wrapped in bandages, was completely fine once again and Macaque had let go of it as the crack of metal meeting stone reverberated around them.

It shattered, crumbling like a sand castle being kicked like an overexcited child, the rest of the walls following with no time at all to reveal-

“Huh,” Macaque said with a half smile, looking around at the black and grey flowers at their feet. They had been transported from their room to an almost copy of the field outside of Sun Wukong’s house. Except some of the color was missing, namely in the flower petals and leaves on the trees, replaced with a greyscale that one might find on an old television set. “I guess I imagined it close enough.”

“Why does it look like this?” Mei asked, looking down at her hand in surprise as she found the sledge hammer now gone.

“We picture things differently in our minds,” Macaque explained. “You can picture things vividly immediately as they are. I take a moment to picture them, if I had tried to do what you did it the apple likely would have taken time to form in my hands. I imagined this place outside of the room and like that palace we were in earlier it must be filling in the gaps in what I can picture all at once with the static. That may be MK’s doing, if it isn’t ours or intentional on part of this ancient relic that has certainly not seen a television itself being locked away all the centuries.”

“Dreams are weird,” Mei said plainly as she immediately slumped to the ground in exhaustion. Or what passed for exhaustion. “So what no-”

“MEI!” 

The aforementioned woman did not even get a chance to react as something, or someone, barreled into her.

Or through her, rather. The sensation was like having warm water splashed over her but not leaving anything behind.

“Sorry,” MK said as he came to a stop and held up his hands. “I-I forgot this whole astral projection thing means I’m not able to touch anything.”

“That explains so much,” Macaque said with a sigh, hoisting the body on his back in front of him. “You can’t actually do that in here, it just separates you into two halves. No wonder we found you like this. Hold still.”

“Hold still for wh-” Once again someone was interrupted, this time MK as Macaque slammed his body into his astral projection and… seemingly forced him back into it. “How the F-”

“Dream logic,” Macaque said quickly as he pulled the younger man back against him, holding him tight with both arms wrapped around him. “NEVER. DO THAT AGAIN.”

MK looked back at Mei in confusion, who merely shook her head and smiled before she caught Macaque’s gaze and his tail reached out to pull her into the hug without being given a second to question how it had gotten so long.

“OK…” She said after a moment, patting Macaque’s arm to be let go. He immediately did so, looking down at the two with wide eyes and then away as he realized what he had done. “So… how do we go home?”

“That’s the easy part,” he said as he held up his hand. After a moment a staticy form started to take shape until-

“DREAM SPIDER!”

MK’s yelling was the first thing Mei heard as her eyes snapped open in the real world, followed quickly by the clattering of the relic as he was tossed across the room.

“DO NOT. PICK THAT UP.” Macaque yelled from the floor, all three of them rising slowly to their feet. “I’m grabbing it with the bag and we are leaving.”

The immortal looked like he had simultaneously slept too long and not long enough, the same as MK beside him. Mei had no doubt she was just as bad. She felt like she had run a marathon and yet somehow was rested enough to stay awake all night with no issue.

"So…" She said as she turned to MK. "What was with the palace?"

MK froze, very pointedly looking away from her. "Nothing."

"No, we’re going to talk about this now," Macaque said as he slung an arm around MK's shoulder once he had the relic in tow. "That and the darkness. You have some explanations to hand out."

"... so you know those really bad and cheap horror movies? I… may have watched… 3… and then Monkey King The Animated Series… alone."

"You are banned from horror movies for the next year."

"Yeahokthatsfair."

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #prompt fill #mk #qi xiaotian #mei #long xiaojiao #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #gen fic

[arcana-magica]

Your blog looks super gorgeous! Is it okay if you could do main six and what kind of dates they’ll take w/ mc?

A/N: I get like super excited with cute ideas like this. Endless possibilities. I love fluff forever and always.

THE ARCANA - WHAT KIND OF DATES THE ‘MAIN SIX’ WOULD TAKE WITH YOU

WARNING(S): FLUFF, just really cute and wholesome appreciation, mwah kisses, cutesy whootsy, etc.

PORTIA DEVORAK

Portia is the cottage core daydream date master. No exceptions.

Cute picnics in fields full of wildflowers?? Absolutely!

Dancing and dessert under the moonlight with fireflies buzzing around the two of you? Duh!!

Mild but still cute dates would include things like reading to each other while lounging in each other’s lap.

A more adventurous date would involve a pirate ship and an unexpected but overly fun experience.

Or laughing in bed on late nights over silly things.

One of Portia’s favorite dates started with a picnic with your favorite bread and ended with a kiss on the cheek.

“Even small moments like this remind me of how lucky I am to have met you.”

JULIAN DEVORAK

Not to be rude but this man is not good at coming up with date ideas.

He really tries his best though.

This idiot even stresses over planning the perfect dates for you.

Like seriously, he tries so hard to come up with decent ideas. And it’s really hit or miss with him.

A ‘romantic’ adventure/date to collect leeches ending up with the both of you soaking wet and covered in mud. But laughing and happy.

Another ‘romantic’ date to the Rowdy Raven that started off surprisingly well, but ended up awry when a bar fight broke out.

Technically not his fault. He would make sure to point that out.

A somewhat successful date would include an excursion to pick local herbs for the shop with Julian tagging along for no reason at all other than to keep you company.

The most romantic date that was his idea would end up being a trip to the theater as well as dinner (not the Rowdy Raven this time).

MONTOG ‘LUCIO’ MORGASSON

One word. Dramatic.

If he isn’t showing off then it isn’t his idea of a date.

“Just you wait. It’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on, and not only just because you’re going on a date with me.”

He would take you to the fanciest place imaginable.

And demand that everyone there treat you with the most respect. Anything for you.

Balls, parties, and lunch dates galore.

The most impressing date just happened to be a ball where he had an outfit made to match his cape. After all, you are his partner in crime. Fashion crime, that is.

One of the rooms at this ball was solely dedicated to his love for you.

He pouted when you laughed at first when he showed you, but it was actually just because of how surprised you were.

He certainly got a kiss or two after that one.

MURIEL

He’s bad at any kind of social interaction, so dates at crowded places would not be it.

His idea of taking you on a date is him cooking you a nice dinner in his hut, or having you read to him by the fire on a chilly night.

A more adventurous date he would take you on would be taking you out in the forest to show you the wildlife while telling you everything he knows about it.

He might even try and take you on a walk through town, but he would be uncomfortable the entire time.

(But it would be worth it to see you smile).

“I know I’m not exactly..the best at dates..”

You really couldn’t care where he takes you, but you show your appreciation for his effort with a soft kiss.

ASRA ALNAZAR

Asra is the casanova of romantic dates. You can’t convince me otherwise.

Blankets and fruit splayed out along the floor of the magic shop with music playing softly in the background.

“I closed the shop down early just for you.”

Exotic trips to his many hidden spots.

Even an especially romantic trip to the magical realm that ended up being his personal favorite.

Late nights filled with laughter, kisses, and special brews of tea he got on trips just for you.

Magical moments that have you smiling while he watches you in fascination.

“You are my light.”

NADIA SATRINAVA

Dates would be important to her. Like, she really plans these out ahead of time.

“Today we shall dine in and talk about your day before we go horseback riding, and then we can end the day with a relaxing bath and dessert.”

If you don’t know how to ride a horse then Nadia has a solution that will benefit you both: ride with her.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it all taken care of.”

She even takes you out on spontaneous dates as well, ones that turn out just as mind blowing as the planned ones.

“Anything for you, darling.”

Each and every date leaves you surprised but not at the same time because Nadia has always has a flair for the dramatic in the most nonchalant way.

You’ve never had a bad date with Nadia. Like ever.

#the arcana game #the arcana x reader #the arcana #asra alzanar #asra x apprentice #the arcane game #nadia satrivana #count lucio #the arcana lucio #lucio morgasson #lucio montag #muriel #the arcana muriel #the arcana portia #portia devorak #julian devorak #the arcana julian #the arcana headcanons #fluffy headcanon #cute headcanons #kissy kissy #mwah xoxo

[mono-dot-jpeg]

the antarctic idiots [pt. 2] - c!technoblade

summary; in which two anarchist piglins adopt an ender boy.

genre; child! ranboo, piglin hybrid! reader, slight canon divergence from dream smp, fluff, found family au is my shit, reader is now ranboo’s parent i don’t make the rules, techno is a grumpy father but it’s okay you love him, realistic minecraft? (idk how to describe it-)

pairing; c! technoblade x reader, platonic! ranboo x reader

word count; 1.3k

< previous - next >

a/n; yall here me out, i open my ask box to have you guys talk to the characters of the antarctic idiots,,, i just really wanna act in character, i love doing that kind of stuff kshdskjdf

i don’t completely know how it would work, but, i wanna do it someday maybe.

also, if you’re too lazy to look at my masterlist for this series or you just wanna see everything related to this story, use the #antarctic idiots tag! and if you have anything to share with me about it, tag me!

“i’ll take your word on that, y/n.”

“you should trust my words from the start, wilbur.” you commented, your voice light and teasing. “but i don’t blame you, you lost a lot after l’manburg’s citizens betrayed you.”

“they did not betray me.” 

“yes, yes, my bad.” you hummed.

“are we allies or enemies, y/n?”

“ally, enemy? i say neither. i was forced into this after all. what with that favor of yours.” you pointed out, he couldn’t even be mad at your response, he knew that you never wanted to be put in a war like this. “i may be part of pogtopia but my intentions are not the same. i will be clear that i’m only here to fight and then i will be taking my leave after this revolution.”

“yes, of course, understood.”

“now, just because we’re friends doesn’t mean i’m gonna train you with the easy stuff. you used to a president, soot, show me what you can really do. you’re stronger than you let on.” 

“i don’t expect anything less from you.”

“come on wilbur, you fought in a war, you should’ve been at least a bit stronger.” you muttered to the man before handing his some wraps to bandage his small wounds.

“i put up quite the fight though didn’t i?” he commented, starting to fix up his injuries.

“yeah, you did. you’ve certainly changed since the last time we fought.”

“techno has taught me quite a lot.”

“how do you know techno?” you asked curiously. 

“he’s my older brother, twin. actually.” you blinked. “yeah i know, we’re not really alike.”

“yeah, you’re a boar hybrid and he’s a piglin hybrid...”

“our mom is a samsung refrigerator, we don’t understand anything of how we existed.”

“fair enough..” you don’t question wilbur’s origins anymore, soon turning the conversation, “so you and techno grew up together?”

“yeah, we trained a lot together and now he’s a total master at fighting, but that’s thanks to our father.” wilbur smiled a bit, thinking about the old times. “maybe you guys should try and train together next time.” 

“i don’t think we will anytime soon. he seems rather busy with gathering resources.” you said, sitting next to wilbur as you put your pendant back on your shirt. “plus if he’s so well versed, i don’t think he’ll need any help from me. anyways, plans, what’s the plan for this whole revolution?”

“well, we plan accordingly to what info we get from tubbo. he’s shlatt’s righthand man now so he’s gonna know a lot of info which will help us out. techno and you are gonna train me and tommy of course. you guys are our wild card. our trump card. both of you are so powerful. we can take back what was ours.” wilbur looked at you, this confident glint shined in his eyes. “we will take back l’manburg.”

oh how you wished you felt the same way about l’manburg as he did.

another day passes as you live in the ravine that was pogtopia. you got accustomed to the small area rather easily. it didn’t feel too different from your own home other than maybe the cold temperatures despite how much glowstone or torches would be placed around to keep it warm. 

wilbur and tommy were busy for some odd reason, so that left you and technoblade. you weren’t the best with meeting new people and techno seemed like he was the same way, so you didn’t bother making conversation. it wasn’t until techno actually decided to speak.

“how can i trust you?”

“bold question to ask. what ever happened to, hi, how are you?” you joked a bit. “how can i trust you?” you looked at the fellow piglin hybrid who seemed to already start a staring contest with you.

“i asked first.”

“i asked second.”

“do you know who i am?”

“you are technoblade, are you not?” a beat of silence. “if you aren’t, i won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“i’m technoblade, yes, but do you know what else i am?”

“a piglin hybrid?”

“i’m the blood god.”

“interesting.” another beat of silence. you didn’t seem to show any reaction to his words which makes him wonder. were you just hiding your judgement or did you just didn’t care? “is that why wilbur and tommy recruited you for help?” 

“in a way, yes.”

“so if i were to say that they’re using you as a weapon, would i be wrong? i mean i’m just saying stuff right now. it seems like you’re really capable of doing a lot of things, technoblade.” you suddenly feel his hand against your neck. “ah- i hit a nerve. my bad.” you hummed as if you weren’t close to getting choked to death.

“don’t talk about my family like that. they would never use me.”

“so, tommy is your sibling too? didn’t see that one coming, although it seems like i didn’t really see any of this coming.” you shrugged. techno was silent, his piercing red eyes burned into your e/c ones, he was trying to analyze you. you could tell he wanted to know more, he was curious. he was cautious of you. “i’m here to finish a favor, so it would be very nice if you do not take any of my lives.” 

“i don’t trust you.”

“well, glad we could get straight to the point. i’m not really one for trust either so it’s nice to know that you feel the same way. again, i don’t really wanna be here, but again, here for a favor, i intend to keep that favor done.”

the voices in his head were buzzing, many said blood for the blood god, some said much less helpful words, a few suggested to get to know you but all of them said to not trust you. and techno listened to the few. he moved his hand back slowly. 

“who are you exactly?”

“well, as wilbur said before, i’m y/n. a piglin hybrid just like you. though, i’m pretty sure i lived in the nether much longer than you have. i live far away from the smp and l’manburg...well, manburg now. my intentions are questionable. but that’s nothing to worry about since they don’t involve you.” you explained casually. “i’m here to also train wilbur and tommy, unfortunately i have to fight in this revolution as well. who are you exactly?”

techno raised an eyebrow at your question.

“to be fair, you got to know about me, now let me know about you, piggie.” he huffs, air escaping his nose as he listens to your words. “at least we’re not killing each other. would you prefer that?”

“i’m more of a action over words person. though words can be very convincing.”

“so is that a yes or no?”

“my name is technoblade as you know from wilbur and tommy. i’m not really from the smp or manburg. i recently joined this area after ruling over antartica.” he can see your eyes sparkle a bit in amusement. “i’m just here to destroy government honestly. my intentions are very clear unlike yours.”

“that is very true, mr. blade. you seem to have your beliefs and intentions very clear. i do understand your need to end government. i can relate to that rather well surprisingly.” 

“i feel like the whole hating government thing might just be a piglin thing.” he looked at you with slightly furrowed eyebrows. “though i’m rather pleased to find someone that thinks the same way as i do.”

“see if you didn’t tell me about you, then we would’ve never found out that we both hate government. anyways, i would love to know more about you ruling antartica. then maybe you wanna try and train together?”

“you’re asking for a lot.”

“come on, mr. blade.” your voice teasing as you sit next to techno. i’ll give you some fun stories about wilbur and tommy.”

“you’re not gonna give up, are you?”

“i’m a stubborn person, what can i say?”

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