#this has been In The Works for like a hot minute | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illdowhatiwantthanks · 16 hours

Note

Emily x Reader after Reader has a sh relapse, Emily patches and her up and assures her she's still beautiful by slow, gentle, loving sex and lots of cuddling please?

You got it, anon! Thanks for the request! :) Hope you like it!

Burning

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, self-harm, depression, mental illness, sex, fingering, etc., injuries due to self-harm, brief mentions of an eating disorder, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: With Emily away on a case and a depressive episode hitting you hard, you fall back into a pattern you thought you'd kicked a long time ago. When she comes home and discovers what you've done, you're afraid it'll be too much for her. Emily does her best to show you that it's not.

You’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for what felt like hours, but was probably mere minutes. Time warped itself when the urges took hold, every second a lifetime of effort, until it became all the potential lives you might live stacked one on top of the other, and they were too heavy for you to carry.

The hand that held the unlit match was shaking, and you seesawed between the unbearable desire to scratch a painful itch and the knowledge that self-hatred that would flood you afterward. But at least the self-hatred and the pain would be something to feel, other than the abject hopelessness that had seemed to swallow you up over the last week.

You’d known a depressive episode was coming before Emily left. You could always feel them coming. But what were you supposed to say? Don’t go save people from a terrorist cell? Stay here with me because I’m scared I’m getting depressed and I need you? It’d be pathetic. You were pathetic. And it wasn’t Emily’s job to keep your mental illness at bay.

But she’d been gone longer than you expected–over a week now. And your depressive episode had hit you harder than you thought it would. You’d called out of work, you’d binged on food delivery, then hated yourself afterward, staring into the mirror feeling lower and lower and lower. Until the only way you could think to stop sinking was to shock yourself out of it.

You knew it wasn’t wise or healthy. You knew you’d feel even worse once the pain subsided. You knew that a relapse would make it that much harder to stop next time. You knew that if Emily was here, she would stop you, she would hide the matches and the lighters, she would be so, so sad that you’d even thought about hurting yourself.

But despite knowing all these things, the hunger for fire, for pain, was too much to resist. You scratched the head of the match against the matchbox and the flame leapt into existence. Your go-to spot in young adulthood had been your arms, but the burns wouldn't fade before Emily got back, and she’d notice them on your arms. This time, you held the match to the upper side of your abdomen, where your arms would hopefully hide the marks.

You scrunched your eyebrows and winced as the flame licked at your skin, the pain white and bright and hot. You wished you could explain to people that odd, addictive mixture of self-loathing and dopamine that hit you and made you feel simultaneously worse and better. You wished people understood the desire for it, that sometimes you wanted to feel worse because feeling worse made you feel better. But it was hard to explain. Even harder to understand. So you didn’t bother most of the time. You lit match after match until the box was empty, until your side was scattered with raised, red-white blotches, like a constellation of all the shitty things you’d ever been through or felt.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and hated what you saw. And it felt good to hate yourself, like a guilty pleasure.

You jumped at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, and cold panic flooded your system.

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Emily called from the entryway.

You quickly pulled a loose t-shirt over your head, wincing as the fabric brushed over the burns. She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She hadn’t texted or called. She’ll hate me, you thought. She’ll hate me if she finds out.

Of course, Emily knew you struggled with self-harm. But you’d been in a really good spot when you’d started dating and had, for the most part, stayed in that really good spot for your entire relationship. You were in therapy. You had healthy coping mechanisms. You hadn’t relapsed in years. You didn’t know what had made today different from every other bad day in the last few years, but you knew you didn’t want Emily to know.

You silently cursed yourself for using all the matches; there were none left to light a candle in the bathroom to mask the scent of burning. You ran to meet her in the living room, hoping that by heading her off, the smell would have time to dissipate.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted her, forcing a smile. You took both her hands in yours to try and prevent her touching your side, which still felt as if it was on fire. You stood on tiptoes to kiss her, and she smiled, leaning in.

“I missed you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around you. You flinched and inhaled sharply as her fingers grazed the burns.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I just, um… fell earlier.”

Her hands fluttered over you, a worried expression on her face. “You fell!? Where!? Like, how hard?”

“Not that hard,” you said, trying to squirm away. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. Ow!” Emily had placed a gentle hand at your side and you couldn’t help your outburst.

“Well, honey, if it hurts that bad, you need to let me see it. We might need to go to the ER or something.”

You knew you were done for when she grabbed your wrist, hard. Emily was much stronger than you, so instead of fighting, you went numb.

You felt your whole world stop as she lifted up your shirt to see the scattered burns. You felt tears prick at your eyes. There were too many marks, and they were too symmetrical to have been an accident. You knew it, and Emily knew it, too.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that her eyes were wet with tears she wasn’t going to let herself cry because you needed someone strong right now. If you’d looked at her, you would have seen a mixture of sadness and pity and heartbreak and undying love. You’d have seen the face of someone who wanted nothing more than for you to be okay.

“Y/N,” Emily managed after a moment. “Did you do this to yourself?”

You nodded, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Today?”

You nodded again.

“How long ago?”

You looked at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry. “Right before you walked in.”

You hated yourself. You hated yourself even more because you knew that Emily would feel awful. She’d think that if she’d just been a few minutes earlier, she could have prevented this. And you never wanted Emily to feel like your mental illness was her fault or her responsibility.

“Come here,” she said, gently taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure the water was cool but not cold, then slowly pulled your clothes off. She nodded toward the shower and you got in, shivering under the chilly stream.

Emily sighed and sat down on the toilet lid, watching you. She looked tired, so tired. You hated to be another thing that exhausted her, another thing she had to take care of and fix.

“You should sit down,” she added quietly. “You’re gonna have to be in there for a while. Until they stop burning.”

You sat on the tiled floor, the water leaching the pain away from the burn marks, leaving only disgust and self-loathing in their place. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face, trying and failing not to cry.

Your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. You heard Emily stand and were sure she was going to leave. Why wouldn’t she? She deserved to. She deserved not to have to deal with you.

You jumped a little as Emily lowered herself into the shower next to you, clothes abandoned on the bathroom floor, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. She pressed her face into yours as the shower drenched you both.

“Shh,” she soothed, careful to avoid your burns. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you wept, rocking. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “You don’t need to be sorry. I love you. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I hate myself,” you whispered.

Emily gently grabbed your face and tilted it toward her. There were tears in her eyes, too. “Baby, please don’t say that.”

“I can’t help it.” Your voice was so quiet, so small, the sound of the shower almost drowned it out.

“That’s okay,” Emily said, brushing strands of wet hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay?”

You looked in her eyes then for the first time since she’d discovered the burn marks. You didn’t know what you’d expected to see: annoyance, disgust, hatred, or worst of all, ambivalence. But there was none of that in Emily’s eyes. Only love and concern.

Even so, you were scared to ask what you needed to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, honey, of course I do. I could never stop loving you.”

And then you kissed her. You kissed her with the cool water pouring down around your bodies. With your skin hot from the burns and from your aching love for Emily. You kissed her desperately, hungrily, like someone clinging to a lifeboat, and Emily was. She was your lifeboat. And for Emily’s part, she was gentle, almost too gentle, as if you might break at any moment.

You wrapped your legs and arms around her and she held you so carefully, so mindful of your burns. You shuddered in the cool water as your hips pushed against her.

Emily moaned into your mouth, her hands faltering for a moment.

“Y/N,” she said breathlessly, pulling away to hold your face in her hands. “We don’t have to do this." She looked at you a moment longer, then added, "I love you.”

You kissed her again. Her mouth. Her forehead. Her collarbone. Emily’s chest heaved into you and your heart beat rapidly.

“Please,” you begged. “Show me.”

Emily pulled you into her, letting her tongue and her lips roam over your neck, letting her hips meet yours as the water surrounded you, soothing your burns the way Emily soothed the roiling, burning despair inside of you.

“I love you,” she whispered as she kissed your eyelids. “I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her hands into the soft flesh of your ass. “I love you,” she whispered as she slipped her fingers inside of you. You bit back a moan and trembled against her, your body pulsing around her.

She fucked you slowly, tenderly, as if it was both your first time and your last, though this was neither. And she kept saying it–“I love you”–again and again, never stopping, so that all the darkness in your mind, all the self-doubt, didn’t have any room to make itself heard.

You let out a strangled groan as your body tensed around her, and when your pleasure flooded you, it was like you were on fire. And this fire was so much better, louder, brighter, than any flame you’d ever held to your body. It was a burning that consumed you, one that would leave you new and glistening afterward instead of scarred and in ashes.

You fell limp against her as she removed her fingers, kissing your forehead, your collarbone, your mouth, swirling her tongue with yours until you felt drunk on her. “I love you,” she said, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of hearing it. “I love you.”

You were quiet as she turned off the shower head. Quiet as you both dried off, as Emily gently pressed a towel to your side, making sure your burns were clean and dry. She sat you on the toilet lid as she pulled gauze squares and antibacterial ointment out of the bathroom cabinet, spreading the ointment on the gauze, then pressing it gently to your skin.

“Lift your arms up,” she said quietly, as she circled your body with bandages, wrapping it just tight enough that it wouldn’t shift in the night.

She knelt down in front of you and caressed your face. “Bed?” she asked. You nodded.

“You go ahead,” she said, patting your leg. “I’ll be right there.”

You felt self-doubt start creeping back in as you laid in bed on top of the covers, your burns still too hot to sleep underneath. When Emily came into the room, she carried a glass of water and a bottle of pills.

“Take these,” she told you, handing you a few. You drank and swallowed obediently.

She lay down in the bed and motioned you over. “Come here and let me hold you.”

You rested your face in the crook of her neck, and she played with your hair, careful to avoid your burns.

“I love you,” she whispered after a few minutes, kissing the top of your head.

“You said.” You meant it to be funny, but your heart wasn’t in it. Not yet.

“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

You were quiet for a minute, then spoke. “I love you, too, Em.” You nuzzled your way closer to her, hoping against hope that her arms around you were enough to keep the darkness and the numbness away for the night.,

And as you drifted off, she kept saying it–“I love you.” And then a kiss on your head.

As your eyelids fluttered closed–“I love you.” And she pressed her face to your forehead.

As your breath slowed and evened, and your body went limp–“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hurt/comfort #self h@rm

74 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 8 hours

Text

Propaganda

Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof)—iconic actress with purple eyes and a double row of eyelashes, the real ebony dementia ravenway of old hollywood. known for her stunning tastes when it comes to jewelry and her incredible, incredible advocacy during the AIDS crisis.

Setsuko Hara (Tokyo Story, Late Spring, The Idiot)— "'The only time I saw Susan Sontag cry,' a writer once told me, his voice hushed, 'was at a screening of a Setsuko film.' What Setsuko had wasn’t glamour—she was just too sensible for that—it was glow, one that ebbed away and left you concerned, involved. You got the sense that this glow, like that of dawn, couldn’t be bought. But her smiles were human and held minute-long acts, ones with important intermissions. When she looked away, she absented herself; you felt that she’d dimmed a fire and clapped a lid on something about to spill. Over the last decade, whenever anyone brought up her lips—'Setsuko’s eternal smile,' critics said, that day we learned that she’d died—I thought instead of the thing she made us feel when she let it fall." - Moeko Fujii

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Elizabeth Taylor:

I've been trying to steer clear of the absurdly-big names, but damnit, those violet eyes got me. The *talent*, the *presence*, the string of marriages and (temporally out-of-bounds) work in combating AIDS and pioneering in the concept of the celebrity fragrance line.

Not only did she have gorgeous violet eyes and lashes for days and one of the hottest voices ever, she was also a big supporter of the gay community

Child actress turned starlet, Liz dominated films as one of the greatest screen legends of classic hollywood. If your protagonist has violet eyes, they're imitating hers.

A Legend. She was serving milf rage in Whos Afraid Of Virginia Woolf. A Star in every sense of the word.

She was renowned for the beauty of her eyes; they were a dark blue but could look violet in certain lighting, something that photographers would actually touch up to look even more so in pictures. But even more striking was a genetic mutation that gave her a double row of eyelashes. She was also famed for her string of husbands -- 8 marriages to 7 men. Two-time hubby Richard Burton once said she was “a wildly exciting love-mistress… beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”

Her EYES. Early and loud support for gay rights and AIDS victims. Married a bunch of hot dudes, Burton twice!

just look at her. she's gorgeous. there's a video somewhere of her applying her eyeliner in the mirror and I think about it all the time

THE Hollywood actress of all time. Not only was she known for her long dark locks and blue-violet eyes, she also had one of the wildest life stories ever….. She’s Carrie Fisher’s stepmother because her father Eddie Fisher cheated on Debbie Reynolds with Liz. She was knighted as a dame of England. She was married to seven different men, one of them twice. She was also very kindhearted and did a lot of charity activism.

Asides from being an iconic actor, she did a lot of philanthropy and co founded the American Foundation for AIDS research. She’s sometimes considered one of the last great stars of old hollywood

Setsuko Hara:

One of the best Japanese actresses of all time; a symbol of the golden era of Japanese cinema of the 1950s After seeing a Setsuko Hara film, the novelist Shūsaku Endō wrote: "We would sigh or let out a great breath from the depths of our hearts, for what we felt was precisely this: Can it be possible that there is such a woman in this world?"

One of the greatest Japanese actresses of all time!! Best known for acting in many of Yasujiro Ozu's films of the 40s and 50s. Also she has a stunning smile and beautiful charm!

Linked gifset

Linked gifset 2

She's considered by some to be the greatest Japanese actress of all time! In Kurosawa's The Idiot she haunts the screen, and TOTALLY steals the show from Mifune every time she appears.

"No other actor has ever mastered the art of the smile to the same extent as Setsuko Hara (1920–2015), a celebrated star and highly regarded idol who was one of the outstanding actors of 40s and 50s Japanese cinema. Her radiant smile floods whole scenes and at times cautiously undermines the expectations made of her in coy, ironic fashion. Yet her smile's impressive range also encompasses its darker shades: Hara's delicate, dignified, melancholy smile with which she responds to disappointments, papers over the emotions churning under the surface, and flanks life's sobering realizations. Her smiles don't just function as a condensed version of her ever-precise, expressive, yet understated acting ability, they also allow the very essence of the films they appear in to shine through for a brief moment, often studies of the everyday, post-war dramas which revolve around the break-up of family structures or the failure of marriages. Her performances tread a fine line between social expectation and personal desire in post-war Japan, as Hara attempts to lay claim to the autonomy of the female characters she plays – frequently with a smile." [link]

Leading lady of classic Japanese cinema with a million dollar smile

Maybe the most iconic Japanese actress ever? She rose to fame making films with Yasujiro Ozu, becoming one of the most well-known and beloved actresses in Japan, working from the 30s through the 60s in over 100 hundred. She is still considered one of the greatest Japanese actresses ever, and in my opinion, just one of the greatest actresses of all time. And she was HOT! Satoshi Kon's film Millennium Actress was largely based on her life and her career.

#setsuko hara #elizabeth taylor #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5

47 notes · View notes

kjdkive · 5 hours

Text

a nice surprise - l.jn

warnings: smut, nasty, fluffy, will make you feel single even if you're not, grammar mistakes

a's/n: thinking of making a part two cause this type of jeno is making me feel crazzy. also, part two?

you shouldn't be really doing this, grabbing the key of his apartment jeno told you the location of in case of an emergency, but this is a real emergency and he isn't answering your texts, neither caring about the fact that you're ovulating and going crazy just at the thought of his touch. well, it's not like you have never been to his place alone, you've been here more times than you'd like to admit. but right now, you needed him like you needed oxygen. you don't think he will be angry, or will he? no, i mean, how could he say no to a horny-you in the middle of his living room?

"i guess i'll make myself comfortable." you layed on the couch and turned on the tv, played a random movie but you couldn't pay attention, you were just only thinking of jeno.

40 minutes have passed and there's still not any signs of him, not even a reply to your text you sent him three hours ago. all of a sudden, you hear the locks of the door make sounds and you prepare yourself for maybe the best, maybe the worst. who knows?

you watch the man you've been waiting for almost an hour now not notice you, he seemed stressed... maybe that's why he was not replying and just needed to be alone... did you fuck up? he dropped his backpack to the floor and took off his shoes and shirt, leaving himself with just the gray sweatpants he was wearing. three words: holy jesus fuck.

"jesus." he said, getting shocked from the fact he hadn't see you there. "what are you doing here?"

"hi, sorry, i grabbed the secret key you told me about and let myself in. i don't know, you weren't replying to my texts and i wanted to see you."

"you wanted to see me..." he asks smiling as he sits down beside you "or to fuck me?" he grabs you by the waist and sits you down on his lap.

"mmm, what is the correct answer to that right now?" you caress his hair and smile at him too. "is everything okay? i know letting myself in was weird but when you got here i noticed something was off."

"aw, you worry about me, maybe you will get some."

"oh my god, are my tactics working?" you ask, laughing.

he kisses you as he grabs your face to have the control on the kiss. it's soft and not too short.

"nothing to worry about, baby." he moves you again so both of your legs are on his sides. "i'm struggling to understand a class and i'm not having enough time to study because of my job, so yeah, it's just the normal stress of everyday."

you give him a peck on the lips and cup his face with both of your hands and you just give him a soft look, you truly did not want him to stress out, he's the smartest, hard-working boy you know out there, he deserves a 100% scholarship and everything paid, not this.

"you're really smart, though. like you make me feel really dumb sometimes when you start speaking engineer nerd lingo, it's also really hot." he giggles and you scratch his hair softly while still looking at him, you just feel his hand caress your lower back and sometimes your legs. "besides, hard work pays off and you know that. your job will let you grow on your career and well, we all need a major. just know that this stress will not last forever." you give him a kiss again and another one on his nose.

"wow, you really will say all that to get some dick." he tells you and you smack his bare chest.

"fuck you."

"yeah, you're really trying." he laughs and stops to stare at his hands touching your legs, then your butt and at the end your waist. you get startled when he pushes you towards him lightly. and he kisses you, fervently, the way you've been wanting to get kissed all day. the "problem" right now is that he has never kissed you this passionately. the way his lips move against yours is making you feel something you've never felt before, not with him nor any men you've ever been with.

"thank you, princess." he tells you. "you know i'm just joking, i do really appreciate your words and support." his eyes were shining as he looked at you. "and honestly, you being here was a nice surprise."

"it was?" you ask him as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you grab his hand. he just kept staring at you, making it seem like he was admiring every single detail of your face.

"mhm." and you just stayed there, looking at each other. you were still holding his left hand that was placed on your face and gave it a little kiss. as he sees you doing that, he doesn't let go of your hand and just softly gets your hand to his mouth for him to kiss it. "kiss me, y/n."

and you do what he tells you to. you kiss him with the same passion he had just kissed you with a few seconds ago. he introduces his tongue into your mouth, playing with yours. it's getting more desperate second after second, his hands that were placed on your waist were now going down to your butt to grab it and force you to grind on him, feeling him very close as you were wearing a dress so he had easy access. one of your hands stayed on his shoulder and your other hand slowly traced a line down his abs so you can grab the hem of his sweatpants.

he kept guiding your hips with his hands and stopped kissing your mouth to move to your neck, giving wet and sloppy kisses on it as he grabbed your hair and tugged it down to give himself more space to kiss, suck and lick.

"come on, baby, keep grinding on me." jeno whispers on your ear. "you're making me feel so good, princess. look so beautiful, so pretty."

his praise was just the little help you needed to moan loudly on his ear and

"that's it, baby, do you feel me? do you feel my hard cock?"

"yes, jeno, i feel it." you moan.

"just for you, princess, only for you, always for you."

you tug jeno's hair as you moan on his ear, making him understand you had just came with the way your legs were shaking. you think you're in for a long ride tonight.

46 notes · View notes

madeforstarker · 23 hours

Text

Radio Spidey — a starker fic

Playlist

Read Here

Tony’s been having a hard time coping with his insomnia and PTSD from his time in Afghanistan, so Pepper being the amazing assistant finds this special recorded podcasts called Radio Spidey run by an anonymous creator. To say that it does wonders to Tony was an understatement, now he just has to figure out who this ‘Spidey’ is and finally ask him on a date.

Tags: Set in Iron Man 1, Aged Up Peter Parker (18), Tony Stark has PTSD, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Feminine Peter Parker, Soft Peter Parker, Medium Burn, They will fuck, but maybe not too soon, but they will still fuck, Guided Masturbation, Virgin Peter Parker, Virginity Kink, First Time, Genderfluid Peter Parker, Tony Stark just wants to fuck that twink, and marry him

Excerpt:

Tony started his day like how he starts his day ever since he got back from Afghanistan with a full mug of black coffee, no creamer, no sugar, no anything— just black coffee that burns his mouth and leaves a bitter taste on his tongue that makes him forget the stale taste of the water that invaded his mouth during his time with the Ten Rings, yay fun— being dunked in water was the highlight of his day. He drinks it up like it wasn’t hot, like it didn’t scaled the surface of his tongue and roof of his mouth, he feels horrible, another sleepless night in a very comfortable bed— the fucking idiocy of it all.

He sighs as he makes his way to his lab, he needs to work on Mark III, he needs to work on the color scheme, something flashy that screams ‘superhero shindig’ in an egotistical way. As he powers up the lab, JARVIS greets him with the familiar British lilt, “good morning, sir, it seems like you’ve only had an hour of sleep, do you think it’s smart to work in the lab right now?” The AI asks in a condescending tone.

“Who are you? The sleep police?” Tony snarks out as he walks over to his work station, he probably looked like an walking corpse with how much the bags under his eyes had darkened over the past month, his skin paler than his usual tanned healthy skin, it was the effect of lack of sleep and working in the lab without food breaks and sleep breaks until he succumbs to a thirty to forty minute sleep, then he wakes up sweaty, panting, shaking, eyes wide and bloodshot, until he calms down, feeling the cool air conditioning, the scent of his lab, the cool refurbished floors— he’s safe, in a way, not being subjected to torture.

#starker #tnpt #made: writes!#starker fic recs #tony stark x peter parker

24 notes · View notes

rodolfoparras · 2 days

Note

Hear me out. I’m going absolutely insane, tweaking if you will.

I cannot stop thinking about sugar baby Kyle Gaz Garrick who would do anything for you (for free no need for payment) down on his knees, sloppy and messy, rough and nasty, gentle and soft, name it he’ll do it no problem. Down for anything as long as it involves you and a mix of praise and you degrading him..

Even worse if he’s FTM going under T, fuckers pouncing on you the very moment he sees you open. He’s not stopping even if you’re shooting blanks and basically brainless. The T is messing up with his hormones so bad he can’t help but think that your dick is the best cure 🙏🏽🙏🏽

Also hi.. I haven’t popped in for a hot minute.. how ya been?? Still hot as hell over here 😭

- 🦦 anon

Okay but sugar baby gaz who will do anything with you except for kissing and despite him giving you so much the fact that you don’t know what his lips feels like has you losing your mind but of course you respect his decision it’s just driving you insane seeing his lips stretched taut around your dick or pushing your fingers into his mouth feeling his hot wet tongue lick at them even better if he tells you he isn’t kissing a loser old man bc yes pls bully me 🧎🏻‍♂️

Also hello my sugar bee!! I’ve been good! I’ve had a wee bit of a writers block but it is what it is I hope it just passes soon 😭 I’ve been trying to do other stuff to get my brain working so I watched baby reindeer and let me tell you I was blown away

It’s getting hot here too 😭 and yeah it isn’t anything compared to where you live but I can’t take it 😭 I need to be freezing cold and not drenched in sweat 24/7

#alec answers #🦦 anon

40 notes · View notes

iwritesickfic · 2 days

Text

Where I Need to Be - part 2

it's been a while since I put out part 1, but here's the conclusion! hope you enjoy :)

While the day has been miserable, Theo’s pretty sure he’s over the hump of whatever illness he has. He hasn’t thrown up since this morning, and his fever’s been under control (mostly) since he’s been able to hold down ibuprofen and water. He’s still got a pounding headache, and his stomach is puffy and tender, but all in all, it’s not as bad as it could be. And he knows how bad it could be.

He’s been in and out of sleep the last few hours, and he’s woken up most recently to a hushed phone conversation happening on the other side of the bedroom door. He’s only getting bits and pieces-

“Kelly, I told you…sick, that’s why…fever…Ok fine…One hour…Ok. Bye.”

Then the door opens, and Seamus is walking in. His smile is strained, but it’s there.

“Hey, love. How are we?” he asks, same gentle voice as always. It’s so different than the one he was using on the phone just a moment ago.

“Not bad,” he says, and for once he's telling the truth. Seamus sits down the edge of the bed, laying his hand on Theo’s forehead.

“You still feel pretty cool. Not cool, but not…not too hot,” he says, and runs his thumb back and forth over his sweat slick skin. They sit in silence for a while before Seamus speaks again. “So. I’m going to ask you something but I need you to be really, really honest. Ok?”

Theo nods. This will have to do with the phone call. Kelly is the artist whose album he’s working on. And who deeply, deeply dislikes Theo. Needless to say, she was not pleased to find out Seamus was missing a day of work to be with Theo, fever of 104 or not.

“There’s a dinner tonight with some people from the label, and Kelly- they want me to go.” There’s an expression on his face that Theo can only describe as shame. It makes sense he’d feel that way, but Theo doesn’t hold it against him. Work is work, they both know that, and some part of Theo was waiting for this conversation to come. And he can't even fully focus because his head is throbbing.

“Ok,” he says, voice shaky. “What did you tell them?”

“I told them I’d have to see about it but it’d only be there for an hour, tops. So be honest, if I was gone for two hours, do you think you’d be ok? Do you feel like it’s getting worse?”

“How big of a deal is it? Contract, or?” He already knows it’s a very big deal or Seamus wouldn’t be asking, but his answer will pretty much depend on it.

“That’s not…” He bites his lip. “It’s not contracted, but if they don’t like what they see…” He trails off before shaking his head. “It’s ok either way. If I stay or go. Just be honest.”

Honestly, he doesn’t want Seamus to leave. Not at all. That said, he doesn’t feel sick enough to justify making him stay. If sleeps for the next few hours, which is likely, there’d be no point in making Seamus stay home.

“Go. I’ll be fine.” A wave of relief seems to wash over Seamus, though the look of guilt doesn’t totally leave.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”

“Ok. Two hours. Tops.”

He’s asleep before Seamus even walks out the door. But when he wakes up, he realizes that this virus is far from done with him.

His whole body is shaking, sweat pouring off him, his clothes plastered to his skin. His stomach is in knots, and when he opens his mouth to take a gasping breath he immediately heaves up a mouthful of bile. He’s so hot. He’s never been so hot in his life. His chest is tight with it, his breath is shallow.

He knows he needs to get to the bathroom, but the minute he pushes himself up with trembling arms, the world spins, and he vomits again. God, his stomach. He moans and forces himself out of bed, and quickly finds he’s way too weak and dizzy to stand. He nearly faints before catching himself on the bedframe. Somehow, he finds his way to the bathroom and falls hard to his knees before leaning over the toilet and heaving again.

The cold of the tile almost hurts his fevered skin. It feels raw, just like his throat. His chin is sticky with drying vomit, and he peels off his shirt. When his hand goes to touch his cramping middle he can't hold back the whimper that escapes. It's so tender - the touch feels like a stab. He also can feel that he’s very, very bloated. The normally concave expanse of his abs is jutting out from his hips, puffy and aching. The waistband of his shorts presses uncomfortably into the swell, and combined with the pressure of his touch, it makes him retch.

In between heaves he can’t hold his head up, so he slumps against the toilet bowl, forehead on the cold porcelain rim.

Sweat drips from the tip of his nose on the floor below him. His breath is gasping in and out, and he's not sure whether he's shaking with fever or sheer exertion.

“Seamus!” He calls as loudly as his voice will let him, which isn’t very loud at all. It's cracked and thin. In that moment he remembers Seamus isn’t here. The thought wrenches a sob from him.

God, he’s so pathetic. A quivering mess, crying for his boyfriend, vomit on his chin. There are a few minutes of respite where he just sits there trying to catch his breath, chest jumping up and down, praying for relief from the fever and the throbbing in his skull. Praying it’s almost… What time is it? What time did Seamus leave?

Before he can think much harder on it, he’s vomiting again. There's only bile now, nothing else is left in his stomach. But once the bile is gone, it doesn’t stop. It’s wringing him out. He’s dry heaving until he’s too weak to. He’s still dripping sweat. It burns his eyes, stings his chapped lips.

He needs to get his phone. He needs to call Seamus. It has to have been two hours by now - it feels like he’s been in this bathroom for 5. But it can’t have been, because Seamus would be back.

The bedroom. His phone is in the bedroom.

He’s no stranger to being this sick, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

He stumbles back down the hall, having to stop and lean against the wall every few steps when his lightheadedness is too much to handle.

He gets the phone. His hands are shaking so badly he almost drops it. He taps Seamus's perfect, smiling photo. Immediately, he hears his voicemail message - "Hey, it's Seamus. I don't really check my voicemail so just shoot me a text! Thanks." There's a dial tone, and Theo hangs up. He calls again. The phone is sticking to the side of his face. Same thing.

This is a nightmare. It has to be. He looks at the time. It's after 10, Seamus should've been home by 8.

Theo is slumped on the floor, back against the wall, just trying to breathe evenly enough to avoid throwing up any more than he already has. The last bout of vomiting had quelled the nausea slightly, but it's back, despite him still not having anything in his stomach to purge. His mouth is dry and sour but the thought of even rinsing it out makes his stomach churn.

He opens his texts. It takes a long time to type a message. It's riddled with typos but his hands are shaking too badly to do any better. It's something along the lines of "where are you? i need you". Normally he wouldn't be so direct, but he's desperate.

Then the world is spinning, spinning, spinning. And then he’s asleep.

Every extra minute Seamus is sitting at this table he's nervous. But, he reminds himself for the thousandth time, Theo would've called if something was wrong. He's probably asleep. His phone has been silent all night, tucked in the pocket of his coat where it hangs from the back of his chair. He's glanced at it a few times, but nothing's come through.

Still, he promised Theo two hours. It's been four. And even if he leaves now, it'll be four and a half.

He's glad he came though. As much as it would've gone just fine without him, he has way more experience dealing with execs than Kelly does. Zeke even flew in from New York. The meeting started at a restaurant in the city and migrated to some random pub a few doors down after the execs were on their way.

At about 11 he goes to the bathroom and grabs his phone as an afterthought. There are absolutely no notifications, which seems strange.

Upon closer examination, he sees it's set to "do not disturb." He definitely did not set it to "do not disturb." He stops in the doorway of the bathroom as he sees the notifications flood in. 6 missed calls. Five unread texts. All from Theo. He has to stop himself from sprinting back to get his coat. He's immediately in panic mode.

Kelly, Zeke and a few other acquaintances from the label look up from their conversation.

"Whoa, what's up?" Zeke asks as Seamus throws on his coat with shaking hands.

"I just - It's an emergency," he manages to say. Zeke furrows his eyebrows but doesn't protest. Kelly huffs.

"Seamus, please. He can take care of himself," she says, and he freezes in place. Zeke looks very confused now.

"Theo?" Zeke interjects, but Seamus doesn't bother responding.

"I told him I'd be home at 8 and it's 11 and he's been trying to call me since 10. I don't know why my phone…" He trails off. He can barely think straight. Kelly crosses her arms and looks at Zeke, whose lips are pressed into a line. "What?"

"Well, we agreed it'd be best if there weren't any distractions," Kelly says. Seamus isn't someone who ever really gets angry, per se, but he's angry right now. Furious. But everyone is staring at him now, and it'll only look unprofessional if he loses his shit. He turns his gaze to Zeke, who looks extremely guilty.

"I didn't know something was wrong, I-" He starts and Seamus clenches his jaw. He starts to stammer out a reply before realizing that every minute he spends here is one minute he's wasting.

"I'll see you guys Monday," he says, trying to keep his voice as even as possible, ignoring the shouts of his name as he leaves.

He tries to call Theo. It rings, but there's no answer. He calls again. Still nothing. He's going about 20 over the speed limit, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. When he walks into the house he doesn't even bother taking off his coat or shoes.

"Theo?" He calls. No answer. He knows logically that Theo's not dead, but the panic in his chest does not seem to know that.

He stops in the doorway of the bedroom. Theo's on the floor, half curled up, shaking like a leaf. Seamus is frozen for a moment before he rushes to him.

Theo's skin is hot - so ungodly fucking hot - and so incredibly pale. Seamus shakes his shoulder lightly, and though Theo moans softly, he doesn't open his eyes.

"Teddy?" Seamus asks, running his hand up and down Theo's arm. Theo's eyelids flutter, and another small sound of pain escapes his chapped lips. Seamus taps his cheek gently. "Teddy, baby."

Theo's eyes finally open, only halfway but enough for Seamus to know he's conscious. When his gaze lands on Seamus's face he lets out a sobbing breath.

"Shh, you're ok," Seamus murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady. He lifts Theo so he's sitting upright, almost all his weight on Seamus. His forehead rests on Seamus's shoulder, his breathing shallow and labored through sobs. He smells like vomit and sweat, and his hands are immediately clinging to Seamus's shirt. "I’m gonna lift you up, alright?"

Theo doesn't reply, but Seamus wasn't necessarily asking for permission.

He maneuvers Theo's limp body so he can pick him up, and tries to ignore the spike of panic when all of his body is pressed against him. He's on fire, trembling, letting out little whimpers of pain at every movement. Theo doesn’t cry like this. Ever. And it’s making Seamus very nervous.

He's glad he works out enough to squat 250, because Theo is only a little over half that. He doesn't bother trying to get his shorts off before placing him in the bathtub, his long legs bent in the small space. Seamus turns on the water and rummages to find the thermometer.

Theo doesn't even make a sound as the cold water hits his skin, and doesn't even seem to notice when Seamus slips the thermometer under his tongue. As the water rises and he waits for the thermometer to do its job, the guilt really starts to set in.

He should've been here. Instead, he was out at a bar, drinking and laughing and assuming everything was fine. He should have noticed his phone was fucked up, he should've left when he said he would. He doesn't know how bad the fever is exactly, but he would wager a guess that it's really fucking bad. Odds are all the vomiting made him dehydrated, which made his fever worse, which made the nausea worse, and around and around until they got here.

He takes one of Theo's limp hands, and with the other, calls Zeke. It's only a ring or two before he picks up.

"What's up?" He asks, and Seamus suddenly feels like he might cry.

"I think I need to take him to A&E." His voice is shaking.

"The-" He cuts Zeke off before he can finish.

"The ER."

"Ok, ok. Uh…" Zeke trails off, clearly flustered. The background noise of the bar softens and a door closes. Seamus cuts in again.

"Do we have anyone here who could come give an IV?" In New York, Theo has people who'll come to wherever he is and give him the basics without having to go to the actual hospital, but Seamus has no idea what's at their disposal in Ireland. He kicks himself for not thinking to find out before now.

"Uh, I can check. I'll call around. Maybe. Is he-"

"I might be able to get it- get the fever down, but he's really dehydrated, so…" Seamus trails off. "You have people here, right?"

"I mean, yeah. In theory. It's just-"

"Just find out what's faster. I can drive him to A&- the ER, or someone can come here. Either way, just find out what's quicker, ok?"

"Ok. I'll call you back in a few, just hang tight." He doesn't hang up just yet. "And I'm sorry, I never would've let Kelly have your phone if I knew what was going on."

"Well she shouldn't have my phone anyway."

"Right."

"Yeah. Just call me back when you know, ok?"

"Ok, hang tight."

The line goes dead and Seamus checks his watch before taking the thermometer out of Theo's mouth. 40.5. He stares at the reading for longer than he needs to, feeling the panic in his chest spike.

Theo’s eyelids are fluttering now, and the hand Seamus is holding tightens around his.

“Oh my God…” Theo breathes out, his voice ragged and thin. “Fuck.”

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” Seamus says, and dips his hand in the cool water before laying it on Theo’s forehead. A towel or washcloth would work better, but he can’t make himself move from this spot.

“Shay, I…” he murmurs, before trailing off, “I had the worst nightmare.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he says back gently, wiping Theo’s chin. It’s taking so much effort to maintain this facade of calm, but he knows if he starts to freak out, it’ll only make things worse.

“I…In my dream…I kept calling you and calling you,” he mumbles, and Seamus is immediately sick to his stomach with guilt. “But you wouldn’t answer. And I was alone.”

It takes everything in him to speak around the lump in his throat.

"I'm here now," is all he manages to choke out. He can't bring himself to lie outright. He'll need to come clean eventually, but not now when Theo's still half delirious. "You've had your appendix out, right?"

Theo nods.

"Burst. In college.” Despite the cold water, Theo doesn't seem to be getting any cooler. He's not even shivering.

He's gathering Theo's hair into a little bun when Zeke calls him back.

“What did they say?” He asks, and Zeke sighs.

“They have people in Dublin, but they wouldn't be able to make it to you until tomorrow morning. I could call you a car but I think it'd just be faster for you to drive him in. If you feel like that's what he needs.”

It's a horrible drive. Then a horrible night.

When they drive home the next morning, Theo's still running a fever, but it's not as bad as it was. The insides of his arms and the backs of his hands are bruised - he was so dehydrated they had to jab him about ten times to find a vein for the IV.

He's able to walk inside from the car, which is a major improvement, but he collapses on the couch as soon as he walks in.

“I'm gonna make some tea, alright?” Seamus asks, carefully stroking some of his hair back from his face. Theo just nods, closing his eyes.

As he makes the tea, he knows he needs to tell him. Not today. No, he’ll wait, he thinks, and tries to convince himself it's for Theo’s benefit. He doesn't quite manage.

#my writing #whump #sickfic #illness kink #oc theo #oc seamus #fever #emeto

22 notes · View notes

angelisgonnastartchangingurls · 2 days

Text

alicia

the way it worked with alicia was, someone was always trying to keep an eye on her. tom working from home on M, W, and F, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays their dad drove into the city to hang out with her. Annie offered to take Tuesdays off of their dad's plate--it was a long drive, and she had remote patients that day she could meet with from Tom's bedroom.

tom had a monitor into alicia's bedroom, like a baby monitor. annie found it to be wildly, electrically intrusive. alicia slept in every morning and so annie was already in her "office" working when alicia woke up and got dressed in full view of the camera. she knew alicia knew it was there, and one day, after a long call with a patient annie asked alicia how she masturbated with the camera there.

"well," alicia laughed. "i haven't yet."

"jesus, it has been weeks," annie said. "aren't you dying?"

"yes," alicia said. "i'm just a little nervous to try it."

"you are?"

"well, when i was with you i had a bunch of orgasms and then i had a stroke and fell into a coma. so what if that happens again the next time i cum?"

"alicia, you are i were really drunk and really coked up. it will be different."

"i don't know."

"jerk off, please," annie said. "look -- I will dial 9 and 1 on my phone and i'll be ready. but just go fucking cum."

alicia went obediently to her room. annie watched her touch herself tentatively on the monitor. she took so long that annie honestly tuned her out until she heard her breathing pick up, something like 30 minutes later. annie watched as alicia had an orgasm, and then sat there peacefully, and then started giggling.

"see?" annie said.

that night, tom texted annie. "LOL, thanks," he said. "Alicia won't stop jerking it now."

"hot," annie said. "are you jerking off while you watch her?"

"you're very intense," tom said. "would you want your brother to jerk off while watching you masturbate on a monitor? don't answer that, i know the answer is 'of course.'"

"of course," annie said. "i need new panties just imagining it."

"let me see," he said.

she sent him a picture of her soaked panties. he sent her a picture of his cock with the monitor visible in the background.

annie texted alicia. "does it turn you on knowing your brother can see you masturbating?"

"duh," alicia replied. "i'm imagining the live feed is being broadcast to everyone i know. my parents, friends, exes, teachers..."

"you get it," annie said. "as soon as i learned to be slutty i immediately regretted that so many people in my life never got to see my pussy."

"i find it hard to believe that anyone in your life hasn't seen your pussy," alicia said.

that night, in an attempt to connect with her mom, annie sent her a post-coital picture tom had taken. his cock is resting against annie's pussy and stomach, and his cum is all over her stomach and tits. "look at my boyfriend's cock," she said.

"it's very nice," her mom replied. "very big." she sent back a picture of herself blowing annie's dad -- the tip of his cock in her mouth, his cum running down her chin.

"so fucking hot," annie replied.

the next morning, her mom sent her a bathroom mirror nude. "sending this to your father so he'll wake up and fuck me," she said.

"he better do it," annie replied. 20 minutes later, her mom sent a video of herself riding him.

that afternoon was alice's weekly session. alice's voice had deteriorated further, but her neurologist believed it was temporary. alice spoke to annie via a text to speech app on her computer. alice typed very quickly, so it worked, but it was very strange. annie found herself very worried about alice, who seemed placid in a way that annie read as suicidal. after her session, annie called angel.

"i know what you mean," angel said as annie started to explain her worries. "we're monitoring the situation." annie thanked her and called julia.

julia's depression had leveled out, but not improved. she had very few patients and never left her parents' house. planning for the wedding had totally paused, jim quietly letting their friends know the save the date may no longer be valid. talking to her friend, annie could feel the old julia in there. she just needed someone to get it out of her.

someone also needed to take care of jim, annie thought, selfishly. she went to his apartment that afternoon and they fucked for a few hours. after, she played with his cum on her tits and asked if he'd gotten dirty with jenny since her visit.

jim told annie that she called him on facetime nude all the time, recently calling in panties and then, as soon as they were visible onscreen, said "oh, i'm so overdressed" and took them off. sometimes late at night she texted him "what are you up to?" with a picture of herself touching herself in bed, from her POV, all very tame but very hot. jim sent back videos of himself stroking his cock. annie loved scrolling through several instances of this happening and looking at jenny's responses. "fuck!" was the most common refrain, along with "i feel like a freak for saying you have a great cock but you have a great cock" and variations of the same.

they sent jenny several videos of their afternoon fuck. she responded with a "fuck!" and then a "i'm going to go make myself cum five times to this" and then later "annie makes me want to shave my pussy bald."

"don't do it," jim said. "i like the landing strip."

"do you like thinking about how it would move as you shoved your cock inside me?" she replied. "sorry, too far?"

"lol," he replied, "no, not too far."

"i mean watch," she said, and sent a video of herself slowly inserting a dildo, watching it progress as it slightly lifted the elevation of her pubic hair.

annie showered at jim's apartment and went over to tom's place. alicia was napping so she and tom had sex on the couch. they were done but still naked and messy when alicia woke up. she came around to the back of the couch and looked down at them, touching the back of tom's head affectionately while she looked at his wet cock. she was only wearing a pink pair of panties. "you two are so wonderful together," she said.

annie slept over that night, which she rarely did, but now that casey and robbie were always at her apartment she felt less drawn to being there. when she woke up in the morning, tom was already off to work, and their father had arrived to watch alicia. annie put on a t-shirt and panties before heading out to the living room.

alicia was in just a see-thru bra and a gray thong as she stood in the kitchen and chatted with her dad. annie talked for a bit and then announced her intention to shower before taking off her shirt. alicia's dad looked at annie's tits and said, "you two really do look a lot a like below the chin."

"i know, right?" alicia giggled. "every time i see her naked it's like looking in a mirror. this is her bra." annie looked at it. it was. she didn't remember leaving it there. "it's a great bra," her dad said.

when annie got out of the shower, she dried off and came out to the kitchen nude. alicia was bottomless. "annie, does your mom shave her pussy?" she asked.

"no," annie said.

"see?" alicia said. "it's a mom thing. my dad is wondering why my mom doesn't fully shave."

"i've always thought i'd still shave even after i have kids," annie said. "but i like your wife's bush."

"the last time she shaved was when she was pregnant," he said. "after that, she got sick of it."

"maybe i will too," annie said. "but i doubt it."

"you like my wife's bush?" he said. "you've seen it?"

"yeah, when she got out of the shower," annie said. she gestured at herself. "we're all very similar women, i guess."

"yeah, tom and i have the same type," he laughed.

alicia left for the shower, and when she closed the bathroom door, annie looked at jack. "wanna cum on me?" she offered.

"yes," he said. "but i will leave that to my son."

annie sighed. "okay, fine, be a good person."

he laughed.

20 notes · View notes

ace-beef · 4 months

Text

Cornetto Secret Santa Gift!!

Eeeee it is here and I have made a gift for @albaharu!! The prompt of yours that I decided to go with was "Andy/Gary full angsty or slightly angsty xmas time after the apocalypse". This was super fun to write and I really hope you like it!! :3

'Christmas in the Apocalypse'

Gary tugged at his coat as he walked, trying to pull it further around him as the wind picked up. It was definitely winter, there was a particularly sharp and frosty bite to the morning air that nipped at his cheeks, the kind that you only get in winter. Gary grabbed at his sleeves, pulled up his collar, anything to try and stop the cold wind from gnawing at his skin. He may be free to do what he wants now, but at least before the apocalypse he had an insulated building with heating to go back to.

“You guys don’t feel this do you?” Gary said, glancing round at the blanks of his teenage friends behind him. The Blank Andy shrugged.

“Don’t think so.”

“What do you mean you ‘don’t think so’?” Gary puzzled, glancing round once more to look at the Blank Andy with a scrunched up face.

“Well, we know that it is cold but we can’t feel the cold,” Blank Andy explained, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, we know what sort of weather and temperature it is I guess so we can blend in with humans, but we don’t get affected by it,” Blank Oliver added.

“Wild… lucky bastards, wish I didn’t feel weather, “ Gary said. He heard a couple of chuckles from the blanks behind him.

The group were walking through a lightly wooded area of spindly trees that reached up towards the sky with their spindly fingers, leaves long gone and instead the trees had caught a few pieces of the scraps that endlessly floated around. Their feet loudly crunched through the debris that had made its way to the ground, occasionally one of their boots would step on one of the few leaves left from autumn, the last to fall from the trees. The fog and smoke that hung lazily in the air had barely gotten any lighter since the downfall of the Network, and Gary and his group could only see as far as a couple of trees in each direction, but for those still alive that had become the daily experience for the apocalypse.

“Wait, so like, can you get bothered by… wet?” Gary continued.

“Bothered by wet?” Blank Steven questioned, bewildered by the wording Gary had used.

“Yeah! So you can sense when something is wet right?” Gary said, and all of the blanks nodded. “Okay so does that bother you? Like can you feel the wet?”

Their chatter was loud, walking and talking casually as if they were confident that they probably weren’t going to encounter anyone else out in the wilderness. It became the kind of moment that Gary enjoyed the most, where the blanks seem to relax and behave a bit more like the people they were built to imitate. They laughed and made fun of Gary’s grammar, subconsciously taking a step away from the programming that the Network had built into them.

Suddenly, a loud commotion of squawking and rustling and wings flapping startled the group out of their conversation. Just ahead of them, a group of pheasants had erupted into the sky, startled by the presence of the Blank Musketeers. A little bit further from where they saw the pheasants, they heard a voice shout “fuck’s sake!” and footsteps quickly heading their way, but they couldn’t see the owner of the sounds through the fog until he appeared in front of them.

“Good job! I spent ages trying to find those and when I finally do you-” the man was yelling angrily as he strode over to the group, stopping abruptly when he saw who he was facing.

“Gary?”

Gary went bug-eyed as he processed who he was looking at. His mouth couldn’t help but tremble a little.

“Andy?” Gary had started pacing towards him.

“Oh my god, Gary,” Andy said. He only took a single step forwards, still not quite believing what he was seeing.

Gary broke into a run for the last few paces before colliding into a hug with Andy, firmly wrapping his arms around his best friend. Andy clung on just as tight, relieved to see that Gary was okay. The two stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the comfort of it, not wanting to let any of it go.

They separated and looked at each other, still trying to believe that it was real. Gary opened his mouth to say something, but before any words came out, Andy slapped him.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for?” Gary exclaimed, holding his cheek with one hand.

“That was for scaring off my Christmas dinner, and you’re lucky it wasn’t my fist,” Andy replied, pointing at him. He hesitated, before saying “and it was partially for disappearing again.”

“Oh come on now, that wasn’t really my fault and you know it,” Gary protested.

“Yeah but you didn’t really make an effort to find me again, did you?” Andy said, pointedly. Gary looked away, his expression sheepish.

“Yeah, I could have tried harder with that I guess… I’m sorry man.”

Andy sighed. Gary sounded genuine with his apology, which is not something Andy had heard very often throughout their friendship. After a pause, Andy put a hand on Gary’s shoulder.

“You’re okay Gary, at least it seems like you’re alive and well,” Andy said. Gary then perked up pretty quickly, launching straight into conversation.

“You know what? I have been alive and well! I have been quite literally free to do what I want and when I want, it’s been pretty great,” Gary said cheerfully. Andy smiled warmly.

“That’s good to hear,” he replied. He looked round Gary’s shoulder at the blanks behind him; they hadn’t moved from when they were initially startled by the pheasants. “I see you’ve made some… friends?”

“What? Oh yeah! It’s you guys! So you could say I didn’t make some friends but instead gathered the old ones,” Gary chuckled. When he only got a very weak laugh from Andy, he continued, “okay well I found them, just wandering, and I thought, you know, let’s give them an adventure! It’s the boys! Plus it was getting kinda boring walking around by myself.” Gary let out another small chuckle, looking at Andy with a somewhat hopeful look, as if he wanted Andy to approve in some way.

“Fair enough. Are you guys having as much fun as we did?” Andy said with a smile. Gary laughed a little at the question.

“I mean, kinda? It feels like they have the same personalities at their core but it still feels like they have some weird, leftover behaviours and stuff from when the Network was still here,” Gary explained.

“Hm, that’s odd,” Andy hummed. “Well, it seems like you guys are having a good time, based on how you scared my pheasants off,” he said after a pause, an irritated tone rising in his voice. Gary once again looked a little sheepish.

“Yeah sorry about that… Why were you trying to hunt pheasants anyway?”

“For Christmas! I already said that you bellend,” Andy grumbled.

“Oh huh, I wasn’t listening to that bit,” Gary chuckled.

“No, you never do,” Andy sighed.

“So… pheasants! Bit fancy for a Christmas dinner innit? Even more so considering the state of the world,” Gary said in a mildly joking tone, gesturing to his surroundings.

“Well, I was trying to take anything I could find really,” Andy replied. He seemed rather dejected, tightening his lips and kicking at a few leaves on the floor.

“Yeah, makes sense.”

The two stood there for a few seconds, the air beginning to thicken with awkwardness between them as they ran out of things to talk about. They had so much they could catch up on, but neither of them were able to land on a topic. The blanks had just stayed where they were, waiting for some kind of instruction saying that it was okay to come forward, but they were starting to get restless and were muttering things to each other.

“Uh, how’s the wife?” Gary had finally found a topic. Andy’s face suddenly seemed to grow older with tiredness.

“We split up. Thought it was going to stay better but it didn’t,” he said gloomily, avoiding eye contact. Gary couldn’t help but smile. He tried to stop himself from grinning but he failed miserably. He also wasn’t entirely sure why that was his instinctual reaction, but he decided to ride with it anyway.

“Man, that sucks,” he said way too cheerfully. He continued to grin at Andy despite being met with daggers.

“Oi! That is not a thing to grin about you bastard!” Andy’s downcast expression tightened into one of frustration.

“Right right, of course, I’m sorry to hear that,” Gary said, clearing his throat and holding his hands up in apology. He straightened his face into a more neutral expression, but there was still a playful glint in his eye that he couldn’t hide.

Once he felt like Andy wasn’t going to assault him again, Gary said, “So um, Christmas dinner by yourself?”

“Huh?”

“Well you said that you were trying to get a pheasant for your Christmas dinner, so are you having it by yourself?” Gary was trying to keep his tone neutral. He really didn’t want to once again anger his old best friend and have them part on bad terms; he’d had enough of doing that.

“Oh, yeah, well I thought I might as well still try and enjoy myself, as it’s Christmas an’ all,” Andy answered, his frustration leaving him. He was tired of just always getting angry at Gary, even if the idiot deserved it. He didn’t want Gary to run away again.

“Fair enough.”

Once again there was a slightly awkward pause between the two old friends.

“You know, as you’re here now, and it has been a long time since we saw each other and an even longer time since we, well, ‘hung out’... fancy coming round to mine for Christmas? Help me get some new dinner on the way?” Andy said, trying to be nonchalant. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he felt nervous about asking. Maybe he was afraid Gary would leave again, maybe he was afraid that asking was a mistake and that Gary would fuck things up, as he had a habit of doing so. Either way, the question didn’t come out as easily as Andy expected it to.

“You know what Andy,” Gary said. A smile was slowly creeping up on his face as he looked at Andy with bright, excited eyes that had warmth radiating out of them. “I would absolutely love that!”

For the rest of the morning, the group gradually made their way back to where Andy was shacked up, occasionally stopping when they found some kind of animal that they deemed worthy of being their Christmas dinner. Most of their hunting attempts were unsuccessful, mainly because Gary didn’t seem to understand the element of surprise and Andy came very close to actually yelling at him. Eventually though, the group got very lucky and found a chicken that had clearly escaped from someone’s farm as Gary managed to scoop it up without much trouble. He then gloated about not needing to sneak up on animals to catch them, and Andy had then punched him playfully in the arm, which made Gary almost drop the live chicken and cause all of them to panic.

Conversation during this journey was light and pretty easy going. Andy managed to get to know the blanks, and even though it took him a little while to get used to the fact he was interacting with fake teenage versions of his school friends (and one of himself), he reached his house being able to joke with them on the same level that Gary could.

Andy’s house was a decently sized, makeshift hut. It was something that looked like it had been built by hand, with care, while using any sorts of materials and bits and pieces that could be found scavenging. This sort of house was fairly common since the Network left, but Andy’s was strangely home-y and well laid out. Gary was honestly unsurprised by this, he knew that Andy always had a good eye for organising and planning things out. He noticed a small patch a little distance from the house where Andy was growing a few different kinds of vegetables. Gary let out a small, amused exhale through his nose, admiring Andy’s dedication to a relatively healthy diet.

“Well, here we are. Home, sweet home,” Andy said after opening the door and leading the group into a surprisingly spacious main room. It contained a few rough wooden chairs and a rough wooden coffee table, all of which looked like they had been hand made. On the other side of the choppy coffee table there was a rather shabby, but still comfortable-looking sofa. It was a tired and washed out green colour, and it looked like it had been scratched by a thousand cats, but the cushions on it still appeared to be somewhat squishy. The hard, wooden floorboards had been covered with a tatty, patterned rug that had half of its tassels missing.

Gary raised his eyebrows and nodded in approval.

“Look at this Knightley! You’ve got a pretty sweet home base here,” he complimented. The blanks behind him also looked around and nodded their heads. They too seemed impressed with what Andy had built.

“Thanks! You guys can get comfortable in here if you’d like,” Andy said to the blanks, waving towards the sofa and chairs. Once the blanks started finding spots to sit, Andy turned to Gary and said, “A’ight, pass me that chicken and I’ll get it started.”

Gary made a noise of confirmation and handed the now dead chicken to Andy, holding it out with both hands. Once his hands were free, Gary’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Hang on, what do you have to cook it with?” he asked, placing a hand on his jaw thoughtfully.

“Ah, follow me out to the back,” Andy said, a knowing smile on his face. Gary raised an eyebrow and gestured with a hand towards Andy, indicating for him to lead the way.

From the large room they entered, they passed through a smaller room which seemed like it was some kind of kitchen or at least a food preparation area. It contained a large table that was in the same style as the chairs and the coffee table in the previous room; clearly this had also been hand made out of the same materials. In the centre of this table there was a rich, green plant of some kind, growing happily in a chipped and scuffed flower pot. A couple of white, leaf-shaped flowers grew from the foliage. There were rickety counters with cupboards that looked like they had been taken out of an actual house and just propped up onto the walls. Only a few of the cupboards had doors.

Andy continued to lead Gary through a back door and outside, where a few paces away from the door sat a rather impressive looking stone furnace. It was a very rough circular shape, built together out of random bricks and rocks, with an opening at the front for the food to go into and a small gap near the bottom for fuel to be put into. A couple of twigs poked out of the gap.

“Andy! This is amazing!” Gary exclaimed, spinning in a circle and stretching his arms out. “Did you build all of this?”

“Yeah I did! Well, me and, I guess my ex wife now, worked on it all together,” Andy explained, becoming a little pensive.

“Ah, so she left?” Gary asked tentatively. He fidgeted with the brim of his hat. Andy let out a sigh.

“Yeah. Just walked out and never came back.”

“Real shame, I’m sorry man. But also, honestly, her loss! Look at all of this cool stuff she left behind! In my opinion, you won,” Gary advised enthusiastically, looking at Andy with a confident stare. Andy seemed unsure at first, eyebrows knitted together, ready to get frustrated with Gary, but he just couldn’t. Eventually a small smile wormed its way onto his face and he felt his body relax. When Gary saw it, he grinned broadly.

“Don’t know why she would leave a cute thing like this,” Gary said as he turned round to face the hut. “I wouldn’t mind having a place like this to come back to every now and then.”

Andy felt a warmth in his cheeks.

“She always said it looked run down and ugly,” Andy said, exhaling sharply as if he was trying to blow out the sudden warmth in his face. Gary spun round to face Andy again, eyes wide and mouth open in a shocked expression.

“Really?? This is adorable! It feels so…” Gary hesitated, turning back to the hut and shaking his arms and hands in the air, trying to find the word he wanted.

“Crass?” Andy said, huffing out a short laugh.

“No!” Gary chided, flashing Andy with a disapproving scowl before returning to facing the hut.

“Well then what’s the word you’re looking for?” Andy asked tiredly.

“I dunno, it’ll come to me eventually,” Gary said, flopping his arms down at his sides and shuffling over to Andy. He pointed at the stone furnace. “So how does this work?”

For the next few minutes Andy showed Gary the whole process of preparing the chicken and cooking it in the stone furnace, even down to him explaining exactly how the furnace worked. Unfortunately for Andy’s patience, Gary never seemed to fully understand exactly how it worked.

“Wait, but how does the heat stay in? There’s all these holes in between the stones,” he puzzled, pointing at all of the spaces.

“I’ve explained this already Gary, it’s- you know what, never mind,” Andy sighed heavily, giving up on trying to get Gary to understand.

The pair of them stood up and left the furnace, deciding to walk back inside and see how the blanks were doing. Once they were back in the main room, they found the blanks just happily chatting away, and the pair of them lingered in the doorway, watching them. Both had affectionate, little smiles on their faces as they watched the four teenages talk in such an ordinary way, reminding them of their far away youth. Blank Ollie still had those short, snappy mannerisms as he spoke, Blank Steve still had that calm and relaxed posture, Blank Pete still fidgeted with the sleeves of his jumper, and Blank Andy still had that boisterous laugh and hearty grin.

“I can never get over how good the Network were at copying people,” Andy murmured thoughtfully, continuing to watch the blank teens. Gary let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, but since they’ve been walking around with me, it’s like they’ve gradually become less how like the Network originally built them and have become more true to the, I guess, originals. As if the true personalities are coming out,” Gary mused quietly, also not wanting to look away from the conversation in front of them. Andy let out a thoughtful, but affectionate hum.

They continued to watch the blanks natter away for another minute or so, before Andy suddenly seemed to leap with an idea.

“Oh! Stay there, I’ve got an idea of something we can do while we wait for the chicken to cook,” Andy said, startling the blanks out of their bubble. They all turned to look at him.

“What? What is it?” Gary asked as Andy started to walk away from him into a different room that he hadn’t gone into yet. Andy skidded round to face Gary.

“Gary, you will like this, it’ll take you back to those Christmases we would have together with the boys,” he replied eagerly, before quickly heading off again.

“Do you know what he’s talking about?” Blank Oliver asked, looking at Gary.

“I don’t know, there was a lot of things we would do at Christmas,” Gary said, throwing his hands up into a shrug. He decided to sit with the others while they waited, so he perched down onto a space on the floor next to the coffee table, crossing his legs as best as he could in his scruffy jeans. Gary undid the strap for his sword and took it off, placing it among the other weapons that the blanks had put in a pile next to the sofa.

“Are you guys ready?” Andy suddenly came back carrying something under his arm. They all perked up. “Look what I’ve managed to get!”

“Fuckin’ hell Andy!” Gary exclaimed, eyes wide and a grin on his face.

All eyes in the room were focused on the box of Monopoly that Andy was now holding out in front of him.

“The real deal, I found it during one of my scavenging trips. It pretty much has everything still in it! Oh, well it is missing a few of the paper notes but that doesn’t impact the game too much. It is also missing a couple of the player pieces but that’s alright because I can always find other objects to replace them. Oh also I don’t think there’s any hotel pieces in here, but that doesn’t really matter because when have we ever got to having hotels?” Andy said before angling a laugh towards Gary.

“Yeah we always got into some kind of game-ending argument before we got to hotels,” Gary said, laughing.

So they set up the board and all of the money and all of the pieces out on the coffee table in the main room. Gary yelled dibs to be banker, but Andy quickly stamped out that notion and made it so that he was the banker; he claimed that Gary cheats when he’s allowed to be in that position. There was a slight squabble between Blank Steven and Gary about who should be the race car, but after a quick game of rock, paper, scissors, Gary got to be the race car and Blank Steven then picked to be the boat. Blank Oliver decided to be the thimble, Blank Peter wanted to be the dog, Blank Andy went for the cannon, and then Andy picked up the boot.

Luckily for Gary and Andy, part of the memories that the blanks had, was knowing how to play Monopoly, so they launched straight into the game. Gary got a strong start with properties, but by the end of the game ended up either having to sell them to others or mortgaged after making poor and impulsive choices with his money. Andy played it pretty safe and ended up having a decent few properties with houses on them, making him a contender to win but not indefinitely. Blank Steven went down a similar route as Gary, buying lots of property in the beginning and made Gary especially mad because he managed to get all of the green properties. However by the end of the game he wasn’t in the worst shape, but he definitely wasn’t winning with his lack of houses. Blank Peter never really got a chance to buy anything that good, with his unlucky dice rolls he missed out on a lot of stuff. He eventually managed to get a few properties that people didn’t want, like the browns, but it meant that he wasn’t in too bad of a position by the end of the game. Blank Oliver was in his element. He was making deals left and right, even being able to swindle Gary into selling some of his good properties to him, and by the end of the game he was the ultimate tycoon.

“Gary, you have to sell me that property or you’re out of the game!” Blank Oliver said, staring hard at him.

“No wait! Wait! I can get this back! If I just- fuck!” Gary was scrabbling through his things, desperately trying to find a way to pay the rent without losing.

“Oh fuck! How long has it been since we started?” Andy suddenly interjected.

“Probably a good few hours… why?” Blank Steven said.

“SHIT! Gary the chicken!” Andy yelled, startling Gary out of his desperate state.

“Huh? OH FUCK THE CHICKEN!”

In a flurry of cards and fake money, Andy and Gary clambered to their feet and scrambled through the kitchen and out of the back door to check on the stone furnace.

“Hm… anyway Steven, can I make you a deal?” Blank Oliver asked, turning to Blank Steven.

Smoke was pouring out of the stone furnace, much more thick, black smoke than there should have been. Andy grabbed a rag from the kitchen and flapped it about as Gary grabbed the emergency bucket of water from next to the furnace. He shoved the water into the fuel gap with some force, putting out the fire that had been cheerily crackling away for hours. Andy took the rag in both hands and frantically pulled out the chicken, only to find a shrivelled and charred lump. The chicken had been thoroughly burnt.

“Fuck…” Andy said quietly. The pair stood there staring sadly at the blackened blob; it still had wisps of smoke curling off of it.

“But I’ve been a good boy this year,” Gary said mournfully.

“The fuck do you mean?”

“It’s a lump of coal, and it’s Christmas Day,” Gary clarified, trying his best to conceal a laugh and keep the sombre tone. His lips were twitching, itching to burst into laughter.

Andy looked at Gary, not being able to believe that he made a stupid joke when all that they worked for had just, quite literally, gone up in flames. However, when he caught Gary’s eyes with his own, he had to start fighting back a laugh of his own.

“Gary. This is not a joking matter,” he said, looking back down at the chicken, trying his best not to splutter. He hoped that avoiding eye contact with Gary would help, but it didn’t, the laugh was still trying to escape and now stronger than before.

Andy took one last look at Gary, and the two erupted into waves of laughter. It took them a few minutes before they were able to calm down, clinging onto each other and tears streaming from their eyes.

“WHEW! Okay, fuckin’ hell,” Andy panted, finally being able to catch his breath.

“Alright… so what are we gonna do about the chicken?” Gary asked after he was able to breathe again. They both once again looked down at the burnt chicken.

“Ah fuck the chicken,” Andy said, before throwing the entire thing over his shoulder. The pair giggled together.

Andy and Gary stood there for a moment, looking out into the wilderness, contemplating things in silence, and just enjoying each others’ company. This was the most comfortable they had felt around each other in such a long time, they probably hadn’t felt this content with each other since the 90s… and it felt nice, really nice.

“Gary?” Andy decided to break the silence, turning his head to his best friend.

“What’s up Knightley?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“About what?”

“You know, the thing you said, about how you wouldn’t mind having a place like this to come back to.” Andy had shifted his gaze back to the vast wilderness in front of him, missing the warm smile creeping up Gary’s face.

“Oh yeah!” Gary said, bouncing a little on his toes as he looked at his boots. “Yeah I meant it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

Andy felt that sudden warmth in his cheeks again, although it was more toasty than the last time. He glanced at Gary at the same time Gary glanced at him, and both of them quickly diverted their eyes to something else in their surroundings.

“Well, since it is just me here now, it gets pretty lonely out here, by myself. So I was thinking, if you wanted to pop back here every now and then, well you’re more than welcome. You can use it as a sort of, home base,” Andy said, once again struggling to get through his words a little.

“I mean, I do really like it, and I have been wandering around for a long time… it would be nice to rest and just, stick to one place for a bit,” Gary replied, sniffing sharply and fidgeting with the buttons on his coat.

“Yeah! You’re allowed to stay, you can stay for as long or as little as you want really.”

“Nice! Um, thanks Andy,” Gary said, finally looking at Andy once more. Andy looked back at him.

“It’s no problem.”

The two stood there for a few moments of silence more, but this time not wanting to look away. This was the first bit of real connection that they had felt since… well, an even longer time ago. It felt so, so, refreshing.

“QUAINT!” Gary suddenly blurted out, causing Andy to jump.

“Wh-what’s this about?” Andy stammered, bewildered.

“The word that I was trying to remember earlier! When I was describing your- well I guess now our hut. It was the word ‘quaint’!” Gary babbled.

“Oh! I see… yeah I guess that word works,” Andy said indifferently.

“You guess?? I thought it was a great word!” Gary argued.

“Meh. Also, I’m sorry, it’s ‘our hut’ now?” Andy barked playfully.

“Yeah! Isn’t that what you were just saying?”

“I guess so but you jumped on that and got comfortable with it very quickly!”

“Sooooo what you’re saying is that I’m not wrong?”

“Shut the fuck up Gary King, you prick,” Andy scoffed, a huge grin on his face.

“You shut the fuck up Andy Knightely, you twat,” Gary retorted, with a grin just as big.

#this has been In The Works for like a hot minute #I hope it's okay though!!#I honestly wanted to write the whole Monopoly scene out properly but I also didn't want to make this too long lmao #it's already at almost 5k #also tempted to post to ao3 if people are cool with that #the cornetto trilogy #cornetto trilogy #the world's end #the world's end movie #gary king #andy knightley #beef writes #beef speaks #cornettosecretsanta2023 #cornetto secret santa 2023

22 notes · View notes

cold-neon-ocean · 2 months

Text

belligerent

#Legend of Korra #LoK #Baatar Jr.#WIP #[ this is what happens when you don't feed your horse properly #your palm should be flat and open so they cannot bite you smh and Kuvira calls herself a horsegirl #it has been a hot minute since I drew Baatar I've missed him SO MUCH #I support this man's rights and his wrongs especially when he is biting people #and one thing about Baatar is that he will bite the hand that feeds him #(even affectionately)#this was a nice little thing to do as drawing has been so hard lately between work and everything my skills have felt so rusty #one of the most common comments I used to get on my Baatar art was people saying they wanted him to bite them #and that they liked how I drew his teeth #and let me tell you I felt so seen haha I am glad we are all on the same pages :) ]#Neon Ocean Art

52 notes · View notes

chocoenvy · 2 years

Text

SAGAU!Vampire reader x various

uhhhh.. y-yeah... while i was sick i had two fic ideas, this being one of them. I could barely write them bc i had a massive headache. So fuck you inspiration, coming at the worst time >:(

Warnings: Completely SFW, slightly comical, all of the characters mentioned act like simps

You had given them everything, weapons and artifacts they could only dream of. Shown them things they never would've gotten the chance to otherwise. Taken their monotonous lives and turned them on their heads, traveling every corner of the world with them and holding their hand along the way so loving and tight.

You were so real in their world of fake skies, staring fondly at them from beyond the stars and abyss.

So, naturally, the moment your gaze became concrete and close, they'd treat it as a divine gift. They'd treat you like a divine gift.

You were a nervous wreck entering this world, much unlike the statues they'd carved in your image, all of which were poised and graceful. Then again, nothing about the statues they'd made reflected how you actually appeared nor acted.

The mostly glaringly obvious issue was... well...

"Please suck my blood, your grace!" Venti was already all over you, his arms wrapped around yours and his head tilted to the side to fully expose his neck, "You can take as much as you want."

With a completely serious expression, Ei grasped the bard's shoulder with unrelenting strength, "Your grace," She didn't even spare him a glance, her striking purple gaze completely settled onto you, "Ignore him. Please, take my blood instead. I won't feel a thing due to my new body."

Zhongli was very obviously gritting his teeth at the other two archons, he grabbed both of them by the collar of their shirts and tugged them away from you, "Both of you need to calm down. This is very unflattering behavior to be displaying in front of their grace."

The glares the two gave him looked as though they were ready to start another archon war.

"It's-it's fine... I just..." You fumbled with your words, admittedly flustered at how willingly they were to give up their blood to you. "Do-" You coughed into your hand to get rid of some of your embarrassment, "Do you... even have blood, Ei?"

She blinked and a soft dust of blush appeared on her face, "Ah... Well, I suppose there's only one way to find out." She nodded self-assuringly.

"A-ah," You chuckled, your face red, "Do- do any of you understand how... uhm... intimate drinking directly from someone's neck is..?"

They all blinked at you owlishly, even their attendants (representatives from each nation, all of which you recognized as characters you knew) stared at you.

A startled laugh escaped your throat, "Oh you-you don't..." Your eyes flickered between the archons and their attendants, all of which were looking at you expectantly. It was odd that you felt like the prey in this situation, "Well, uhm... sucking blood directly from someone - especially their neck - is often seen as a... romantic gesture..."

"So..." Lady Ningguang put her clawed hand up to her mouth in thought, her red eyes peering at you, "Whoever you decide to be your blood bag, is essentially your consort?"

At that Venti's eyes lit up and Zhongli had to physically restrain him from jumping to hug you again. Ei, on the other hand, slightly deflated. If you were right about her not having any blood would she become the least favored? It's a thought that shook her to her core after all these years of being loved by you, your gentle hands taking care of her, would you finally drop her?

"I-I," You stuttered, all the attention on you activating your innate fight or flight. Usually, in these types of situations, you were being hunted. This... was definitely not something you'd ever predicted to happen, "I wouldn't go there yet." You nervously chuckled, "Usually I just drink animal blood and such and even then I drain it out into a container before drinking it. It's been... hm, it's been years since I've had human blood. Maybe since I was a child just cause I was growing a bunch during that time."

You glanced around and noticed their sympathetic gazes, Jean had opened her mouth and you knew what she was about to offer so you beat her to it, waving your hands dismissively, "All that is to say, I don't need human blood. Much less drinking straight from the source."

"But..." Venti pouted, "You deserve some luxuries don't you, your grace?"

You huffed, "Luxuries, Venti, that's what human blood is. Not a regular meal." A dark look overcast your eyes, "I don't want to hurt any of you."

Their hearts clenched as the corners of your mouth tugged down.

"Apologies then, your grace," Jean bowed her head to you, "Just know that if you ever require anything be human blood, animal blood, or anything at all, we'll get it for you." Her smile was warm and comforting, like a vanilla coffee.

A dark part of you salivated at the thought of her blood, whispering in your ear that if you thought she was like vanilla coffee then why don't you take the opportunity presented to you and prove it.

You pushed the thought aside, forcing a smile on your lips, "Thank you, Jean. I appreciate it." Your fangs flashed through your smile, a natural predatory gleam in your eyes as the thoughts of them so willingly offering themselves to you never left the recesses of your mind.

Your fangs unconsciously elongated. It was obvious that you were hungry from the look in your eyes and now protruding fangs.

"Would you like to eat something?" Zhongli offered with a small smile - though there was a glint in his eyes showing what he'd like to really offer - "Anything you want, we'll get it for you."

You smiled, "Just animal blood is fine-"

As soon as those words left your lips an arrow whizzed in the air and landed on an unsuspecting nearby animal. Venti held a proud grin on his face, prancing over to the animal, his bow disappearing just as fast as it had appeared.

You blinked owlishly as he presented to you, "Here you go, your grace!" He grinned widely, "Completely fresh!" A giggle escaped his throat and - considering the circumstances - it felt a little intimidating.

"Ah- I-" You gingerly took the animal from his hands, "Thank you."

Perhaps it was from the fact you had just been torn away from everything and everyone you'd ever known and called home. Or the fact that you were under quite some stress and you weren't sure when the last time you ate was.

Either way you quite embarrassingly sunk your teeth deep into the small animal. Greedily sucking all of the blood out of it. Under normal circumstances you'd be a lot neater about it, more careful and definitely not eating like this with an audience. But you were under high stress and running low on food so you, quite animalistically, sucked the animal dry.

Once you had gotten your fill, your brain was a lot calmer and clearer. You pulled away, licking any excess from your lips, "Ah, sorry about that. I'm not usually this messy."

You diverted your eyes away from them as you cleaned the blood from off your face and hands. Though, they didn't have the same decency to look away as you did. In fact they were all staring quite unabashedly at you licking away the blood. Jean and Venti were even blushing quite obviously at the scene.

Zhongli sent a dirty glare at the two - Venti mostly - to tell them to calm down and not make you uncomfortable. Jean cleared her throat and forced her blush down, but Venti merely rolled his eyes at Zhongli and continued to enjoy the scene in front of him.

"You're so unprofessional, Venti." Zhongli frowned down at the archon, "Your grace, if you wish, we could provide you a feast back in Liyue."

"Or Mondstadt!" Venti cut in.

"Or Inazuma." Ei frowned at the other two, a dark look in her eyes.

There was tension between those from the three nations as they all glared at you, "So?" Zhongli tore his eyes away from the other two archons, "Which will you choose?"

#sagau #genshin cult au #genshin sagau #sagau cult au #genshin self aware #ei #zhongli #venti #uhhhh sorry this has been bugging me for a hot minute im not fucking with it anymore #i started writing this when i was sick and got too tired to finish it for like three days #and like i wanted to do more but you know me can't choose anything ahaha-#so i'll probably do three branching paths where you go to mondstadt liyue and inazuma and that'll have more vampire content in it #i also had two other fic ideas while i was sick so i'll try and work on those slfkjasdflkasjdf

3K notes · View notes