#to the widening shelters within us

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: your mother had warned you. Don't let them know, she'd said, her nails digging angry crescents into the flesh of your upper arms, eyes wild and imploring, don't let them know you can see. you'd listened, all these years, you'd lived your life by that rule. until you couldn't.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.1

Like most things, it started with a look.

A boy. A girl. A crowded place; a friend talking—their voice muted as if heard through a motel wall. Time slows. People filter in and out of the space between, chatting, laughing, in frame just long enough to emphasize the weight behind something that, in any other context, would be utterly unimportant.

Simon had urged you outside at lunch, pulled you away from your table, tone frayed in desperation as he interrogated you about things you're certain you'd made seem the expression of a morbidly quirky imagination.

"Well," He said, like jabbing the eraser-end of a pencil into your sternum, "Can you?"

You hesitated, gaze lifting away from his to skirt the middle-distance behind him.

And then—

It happened molasses-slow. Your eyes caught his; lingered a beat too long to be played off as anything other than what it was. Acknowledgment.

Those sweet-sultry cow eyes widened a fraction.

Oh no.

Then time rushed back in and snapped into the correct rhythm. You didn't have a chance to process what had just happened because Simon sighed with the weight of the world, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling. Quickly, you arranged your expression into something slightly put-off.

"Si, what are you talking about?"

Simon groaned and took a few steps back then forward again. He reminded you of a caged animal being forced to perform. Lately, his mannerisms had been erratic, a little unhinged. You'd caught him talking to himself a couple of times, in classrooms or the cafeteria. The last couple of days he'd been glued to his phone, taking spontaneous calls that he'd never received before. Initially, you'd assumed he was in touch with Maddie; the only one she'd trusted enough to keep in the loop. However, the more you'd observed, the more you'd doubted the assumption.

You'd watched him unravel from a distance, of course. Nicole had turned inward, Simon was bursting at the seams, and you, as the casual friend with a life separate to theirs, stayed away out of a sense of insecurity.

You and Maddie hadn't been as close as she and Simon and Nicole. You shared interests in the macabre and spooky, but that's where it ended. Event Buddies who became familiar through exposure, lacking that profound connection that would give you a reason to call about something other than the next horror film release date.

You didn't feel right about asking to share their grief. It felt intrusive.

Simon paced the length of the bus shelter once more before stopping in front of you. He was clearly nervous, frustrated, avoiding your gaze for a second while he collected his thoughts.

Finally, he took a deep breath, glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and said, low and secret, "You talked about the ghosts here—" You folded your arms and tilted your head in what you hoped came across as confused. "—Last year," Simon grabbed your arm and pulled you in closer when a group of younger girls walked by, "Last year, you told us about the crush you had on your mom's dead boyfriend, remember? The guy who died during the '83 homecoming game?"

"They never dated." You corrected, fighting the urge to chew your lip. A giveaway that you were about to choose your words very carefully. "But, look, Simon, I talked about that stuff because I thought it was fun. Not because I can commune with the dead."

"But your mom—"

"Is a fraud and you know it." Then you frowned, genuinely intrigued, "What's going on?"

Simon shot you a dazed look, "Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly into this Sixth Sense shit? You've never believed in it before. A stance you've made very clear you take." Every time you joked about reaching out to the Other Side, Simon would scoff and roast you endlessly. Something that you found endearing. Like a prickly inside joke. It was your thing.

Suddenly, Simon got that look on his face, the one he got in class when your teachers outlined your homework. As if he were listening to someone. Except there was no one else close enough to hear.

The silence stretched into a thin static between you until, at last, Simon said, "Never mind." He sounded equal parts defeated and aggravated.

Taking a cautious step forward, you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about Maddie, Si, I—" Have no idea how to put into words how fucked up it all is, "—I wish there was something, anything, I could do to help."

Simon pressed his lips together and nodded. From the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching the bus shelter. Tall, broad, donning the unmistakable colors of the Split River Bandits, née Devils. You had to get out of there before you irrevocably fucked up and found yourself at the center of what your mother warned you would be a swarm.

"Look," You dropped your hand to Simon's, squeezing supportively. You might not have been able to tell the whole truth but you could try to offer some comfort. Whether or not he believed you was up to him. "Maddie's okay, Simon. Wherever she is. Whatever happened to her..." You paused, considering your next words, "She can't be so far gone that we won't get her back."

You said it with all the conviction you had in you, believed it to your core.

You'd seen the beatnik with her lollipops, the shy boy with the glasses; you'd seen the young man in the outdated suit, and the modest, Sally Olsson lookalike, and the girl with the daydream eyes. You'd seen the myspace emo punk, the lanky autoshop geek, the dark-skinned disco queen; the marching band, and the theater kid...and him. The charming, high-on-life football star currently stood outside the bus shelter, his hands cupped around his eyes as he peeked through the glass against the glare of the sun.

You hadn't seen Maddie. Not a glimmer or a shadow or the impression that she'd been and gone. Nothing. And you'd done your due diligence as soon as you'd heard about the blood in the boiler room. You'd scoured the town after dark, before school, whenever you could get away without raising suspicion. Her old haunts and favorite places had been empty.

Minus a couple of exceptions, but they hadn't been Maddie, so you didn't see the harm in continuing to keep the truth from Simon.

"Yeah." Simon said. He didn't sound convinced. "Thanks. For that."

You deflated, released his hand with an affirming squeeze, and made your excuse, "I gotta get ready for next period."

He didn't meet your eyes, simply pulled his phone out and put it to his ear. "See you later." The smile he gave you was tight, quick, insincere.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turned and exited the bus shelter, tall dark 'n' handsome keeping pace as you made your way back into the school, his gaze a warm weight on the side of your face.

All you had to do was pretend he wasn't there. You'd done it countless times in the past, were well-versed in how to cover your mistakes.

You stopped briefly, reached out to open the door, and in that second, you felt a tingle up your spine and the closeness of a body behind you. His voice, low and teasing, spoke directly into your ear, the parody of soft breath tickling the hairs on your neck.

"I know you can see me."

You forced yourself not to react, perhaps stood a second too long before yanking the door open and marching inside, but you kept your eyes forward, and relaxed your jaw and shoulders. To the students milling about the hall, you were the picture of normal.

"Do what you want but I'm not going anywhere until you admit it." He said lightly, a step behind you as you maneuvered toward your locker.

Once again, you had to stop, twisting in the combination to open your lock. You fumbled, missing a number, had to start again. He leaned his shoulder against the locker beside yours, watched you through his lashes, a smirk pulling one side of his mouth upward.

You'd always been attracted to him. Had to suppress the urge to stare at him when he appeared in the same classroom or hallway you happened to be in. Having him interact with you, intentionally, made your heart quicken and the ability to think critically dissolve.

Oh God, not again...

Your brain fired a thousand synapses in every direction as you willed yourself to hurry before you accidentally did something stupid; steadied your hand to input the combination correctly. You tugged the lock. It stayed stubbornly latched. And then he leaned in, too close, the tip of his nose practically grazing your temple.

"You missed the 3."

The air was syrupy thick, fuzzy. In an effort to concentrate, you closed your eyes, repeating a mantra your mother had taught you to center yourself.

You sensed his body shift, tilted further toward you like a bracket, then the sensation of blunt nails traveling up up up your back, catching in the material of your shirt as if the touch were real. Goosebumps erupted over your arms, your breath hitched, and you found your head slanting in his direction.

Fuck. You needed to—BANG—Jesus Christ!

Your eyes snapped open at the abrupt noise, your friend cackling wickedly as she took in your shock.

"Hey, silly." Mathilda Grace—of The Split River Graces, not that she'd ever say it like that—grinned proudly at the reaction she'd gotten out of you. "You ready to fail this test with me?"

You could still feel him hovering, but it seemed he'd put an appropriate amount of distance between you. Shaking your head to clear the last of the muzziness from a moment ago, you plastered on your most natural smile and responded, "Let's go disappoint our parents."

You managed to undo the lock and grab the right textbooks, transferring what you didn't need from your bag into your locker while Mathilda regaled you with what you'd missed after Simon had dragged you outside.

"What did he want, anyway?" Mathilda asked, more concerned than curious.

"To talk about Maddie." You replied as close to the truth as you dared. It had the added benefit of making Mathilda feel awkward enough to change the subject immediately.

"K, c'mon, bell's about to go and I need to grab my book, too."

Shutting and locking your locker, you chanced a sideways glance and were relieved to find that it was just you and Mathilda and the regular stream of other alive-and-well students making their way to their next class.

Still, as you and Mathilda walked toward Ms. Fields' class, you felt the tingle of his gaze on the back of your neck.

The next couple of days would be white-knuckle hard, but you'd dealt with it before and could do it again. Had to do it again.

What you didn't anticipate—and probably should've, given what you knew about him—was Wally Clark's steadfast determination and his refusal to let sleeping dogs lie for a second time.

💀___________________________

PART TWO

note: i'll just leave this here for now :) i have a whole idea, fully fleshed out, but am also developing an actual Series Compliant fic that uses some of the same elements as this story 😅

if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please join the tag list!

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits

[cod-dump]

Roach (teen!Ghost au)

Part 2 (part 1 here)

———

John knew Kate wouldn’t be coming alone but he wasn’t expecting another American agent. As far as he knew, Kate and her family were located here for ease of access, just to have someone from CIA within range. He didn't know there was more than one of her in country. Well, he assumed this man was CIA at first.

But after getting a good look at him, John quickly figured out the man wasn’t with Kate.

He was strangely familiar, John has seen him around somewhere but he couldn’t pinpoint where. John was hesitant to let him in but Kate gave him a look that told him to step aside. So he did. And the stranger walked in, scanning the room with a hard gaze before he spotted the child on the couch with Nik and softened.

“Hey, Gary,” the man said softly, walking over slowly before he kneeled on the floor near where the boy was sitting.

“Gary?”

“He’s been missing for a few days… We- The commander here found his parents. Well, his dad,” Kate said in a hushed voice.

Gary Sanderson, son of Captain Roger Sanderson. A mercenary who was working for a private organization. This organization had a front here, as a shelter. John felt himself tense, watching the man on the floor carefully. He was thankful he sent the kids off across the street to Johnny’s house to get them out of Kate’s way. He didn’t trust this man around them.

Gary seemed to know him, watching him as the talked to him softly.

“Gave us a scare, kid. And I know you’ve been scared, too.”

Nik kept a comforting hand on the boys shoulder. He seemed also uneasy around the mercenary that apparently had been living amongst them in their town unnoticed. Or maybe Nik had noticed and wasn’t too pleased to have someone like him in his home.

“I brought something for you,” the man said, sounding ever patient with the lack of responses from the child before him. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small stuffed toy, a bear of some kind. Gary’s eyes widened at the sight of it and reached out for it.

The kid changed instantly as soon as he had it in his arms. He started crying, curling up on the couch while holding the worn toy, shaking. The man reached out and touched his knee, the boy doing nothing to push him away. The man had a sadness in his features, seemingly understanding exactly what was happening. Nik was alarmed with the boy’s sudden dive into tears and tried to comfort him, but the boy leaned away.

Kate took John into the hall, turning to him with a stern face.

“Phillip Graves, the shelter owner. He has legal guardianship of the kid.”

John blinks, “He does?”

“Gary’s dad… it’s complicated but he made arrangements for Phillip to take Gary if anything happened to him.”

John’s heart went out to the little boy. He knew. He knew why Phillip was there, he clearly knew him before this.

“Poor kid… what happened to his father?”

“I don’t even know myself. What I do know that it’s purely Phillip’s business and he has enough money to wave any official off for even looking his way.”

John frowned, Kate continuing.

“Nik’s people, from what I know, so happened to run into the tail end of Phillip’s mess, at least the part he hasn’t managed to clean up. I was already getting word from my supervisor about him looking for Gary would you called.”

John looks over his shoulder to the threshold to the living room. Would have Phillip found his way here on his own? What would have he done once he knew Nik had taken Gary? That his people were on sight of the boy’s last known location? The possibilities had him on edge, his mind going to his children and partner.

“Everything is being handled, John. Phillip’s taking the kid back with him and you can go back to your three ring circus.”

“Right…”

In the end, Phillip left with Gary in his arms, the kid asleep and clinging to him. Nik watched them leave, stone faced and quiet. John watched the cars pull away before he turned to the man, nudging his shoulder with his own to get his attention.

“Kate wouldn’t have let him leave with the kid if she didn’t trust where he was going.”

Nik grunts, no verbal response otherwise. John sighs, knowing that he was probably attached to the child.

“He couldn’t have stayed, Nik. There’s enough going on here as is.”

No response.

“Besides, we’re out of bedrooms and I’m sure the boys or Farah weren’t eager to share.”

“Could’ve turned the office into another bedroom.”

John blinks before he laughs, “Excuse me? And where would I work?”

“The basement.”

John scoffs, “Wow-“

Nik cracks a small smile, but he was completely behind it. John expected that he would be finding a way to keep tabs on Gary. John was just hoping he wouldn’t be planning on doing anything stupid, or anything to piss off what appears to be a large operation that Kate has been very aware of and has been quiet about.

John wasn’t keen for a war, especially not in his kids’ town.

#teen!ghost au #john price #cod nikolai #kate laswell #gary roach sanderson #phillip graves #ficlet #call of duty #modern warfare

[blackcoffeeofmelancholy]

the brothers comfort you during a panic attack

words: 4121

warnings: depictions of anxiety and panic attacks

notes: I'm reuploading my previous work from my old blog, so I have everything in one place. I'm starting with the first piece I wrote for Obey Me. I have a part two with the dateables in my WIPs that I hope to finish one day.

As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Thank you to those who take the time to read and comment on my work; it’s greatly appreciated ♥

LUCIFER

Lucifer is troubled. Following lunch, you disappeared, currently absent from class. This is unlike you, his worry intensifying every minute you’re out of his sight. Yet he maintains his composure, resigning himself to scouring the academy grounds. Time passes at a torturous pace, his thoughts beginning to take a turn for the worse. He contemplates whether to involve his brothers and Lord Diavolo himself at this rate, however, the sound of his D.D.D diverts his attention. A wave of relief washes over him at the sight of your name lighting up his screen, chased by frustration at you, your silence, and himself for losing track of you so easily; he couldn’t bear living if anything happened to you under his watch. He expects this behavior from his brothers, not you. Though his heart sinks, the Avatar of Pride uncharacteristically overcome with guilt while he reads your message. Of course, you are not his brothers. He should not have doubted you.

Your texts are apprehensive, a weighty pause between them as you hesitate to lay bare the darkest depths of your soul. He approaches you cautiously, to avoid upsetting you further. Your words alone convey the sheer panic taking possession of you, the last of your strength used to press send. Outside he discovers you, huddled miserably in an isolated corner of the building, swathed in shadow. The desire to shelter you from the world burns within him, but your eyes widen fearfully in his presence, wounding his pride. Immediately, you apologize. Sorry you’re missing class, that you left without telling anyone, and upset him—especially when you’re aware of his busy schedule. You’re sorry for not having the courage to pull yourself together, succumbing to your anxiety, your shame palpable. The hand clutching your D.D.D is trembling, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. He aches for you, each tear shed hurting more than the last, your pain managing to touch the very core of his being and set him alight.

If anyone is sorry, it’s him, pride be damned. Kneeling in front of you, he assures you an apology isn’t necessary—your well-being is of great importance to him. He wants you to rely on him, grateful you confided in him despite your doubts. Hopefully, he can eventually put your mind at ease. His voice is low and soothing as he continues to console you, making sure you’re aware he’s not upset, and your feelings are valid. Although he’s not familiar with the inner workings of anxiety itself, he’s willing to listen, learning how to support you to the best of his ability—starting today, provided you’re comfortable accepting his offer. Initially, he prioritized your safety for the sake of the exchange program and Lord Diavolo’s wish to unite the three realms, now it’s merely out of adoration for you, his beloved. Once you’re ready, he’ll let you know you’re not alone. He’s never too busy on your behalf. 

Offering you his hand, a smile graces his features as you accept. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. He notes the way you relax at his touch, shoulders sagging and head coming to rest on his chest. Only you exist at this moment, his gaze never leaving you, not even for a second. Standing in silence until your breathing settles and you regain your balance, he sees you through the height of your attack before escorting you back to the House of Lamentation. He’ll personally excuse you from the remainder of your classes, understanding you need a quiet place to recover. Classical music plays softly in the background of his room, and he’s content to have you in his embrace, drawing you onto his lap after you finish the tea he brewed to calm your nerves. Lucifer pays you special attention, massaging your tired body and kissing you tenderly, his breath fanning across your lips as he reminds you how special you truly are—brave, compassionate, and incredibly loved.

MAMMON

Mammon mourns his loss, wondering how he let them gain the upper hand; admittedly, a foolish mistake on his part. He dreads breaking the news to Lucifer, and the resentment that shows on his brothers' faces once he confesses does little to ease his mind. Still, he worries about your reaction most of all, knowing his stupidity has put you in a precarious position. In that moment he believes their words—only a greedy scumbag like himself dares to place his human’s happiness on the line. Although certain of his win at the time, he should consider how his actions affect you more often; otherwise, how can he claim he’s the Great Mammon? His confidence is his downfall in the end. Now you’ll suffer along with him. Yet you feign optimism, attempting to soothe everything over despite your innocence. His guilt only grows, a heavy weight on his shoulders; one he deserves.

Three days of waiting on and performing for large crowds at The Fall proves hectic for everyone. He can tell you’re struggling beneath the facade of a composed and hospitable server, going above and beyond to ensure the patrons leave satisfied. You even lend him and his brothers a hand, coming to their rescue on multiple occasions; it should be him making it as easy on you as possible. His concern for you runs deep, no matter how hard he tries to maintain his usual air of indifference, but you have the nerve to reassure him—it’s meant to be the opposite, dammit. Each night he goes out of his way to check on you, frustrated that you continue to dance around the subject. He can see the exhaustion on your face, hear the slight tremor in your voice, the toll his stupid decision is taking on you, and it stings. You comfort him, even when he’s undeserving, so why won’t you allow him to hold you and kiss the pain away? Not that he’s asked. You should realize by now you can rely on him, right?

Watching you suffer in silence tortures him. He can’t deny it regardless of his best efforts to make light of the situation. You barely eat or spend time outside your room, saying you’re tired, which isn’t a lie—working is exhausting, no doubt about it—but he understands you well enough to notice the subtle signs of your anxiety, your smile unable to trick him into believing otherwise. Perhaps you find him as insufferable as his brothers do, or worse, and don’t want to see his face after what he’s done. That doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, hoping he can offer some form of comfort no matter how small. However, you keep up appearances, supporting the seven of them during the longest weekend of their lives. You work hard too, his chest swelling with pride as he watches you care for his brothers and customers alike. How can you like an idiot like him? You’re selfless and loving, looking past his flaws to see what lay beneath his sin. His human. His angel. He wants—no needs—you to be okay.

The last day comes and goes in a blur. Finally, he can toss these ridiculous clothes and rabbit ears in the trash and never perform that dance again. Better yet, you’re free of his burden, though the guilt remains. He can’t relax until he’s positive you’re okay and know he’s genuinely sorry. Standing outside your room, he tries to muster up the courage to open his heart to you—apologies are not his strong suit—when he hears you crying. They’re small, muffled sobs that manage to shake him to his core and make his blood run cold. He should knock, but he can’t control himself, throwing the door open without hesitation and rushing to your side. The sight of your tears is almost too much to bear, and he draws you into his embrace, face heating up at his own moment of vulnerability, but this is about you, not him. He can be strong for you too, telling you everything’s going to be okay, that the Great Mammon is here to help.

After his stupidity, you tell him you were afraid to bother him. He can hardly suppress the shock at your confession, the sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. You wanted to make sure it went smoothly for his sake? You suffered through hell alone because you chose to put his feelings first? Crazy. Though he thanks you, not completely ashamed to admit he’s touched. However, he tells you that you don’t have to put aside your feelings for his benefit; he prefers to be by your side than know you’re having a rough time on your own. He is your first. Taking the initiative, he asks what he can do to make it up to you, no matter how big or small the request is because he’ll do it in a heartbeat. You opt to stay in his arms, burying your face into his chest, and he wipes away your remaining tears, being as gentle as he possibly can. He can feel how tense your body is, your skin flushed, and it takes a while until you stop shaking. It’s moments like these he’ll tell you how much you mean to him—that he loves you—and he wants you to come to him for everything. He’ll hold you, taking your hand in his, and kiss you with all the adoration in the world because you’re incredibly important to him. Mammon can attest to that.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan invites you to his room to play video games, a daily routine the two of you have comfortably fallen into. He loves gaming with you, though on occasion you opt to watch instead, thoroughly enthralled by whatever is on the screen. Miraculously, you enjoy listening to him ramble—whether it’s about the game he’s playing, anime he’s watching, or TSL among other things—genuinely showing interest in his passions; he’s incapable of expressing how truly grateful he is for your company. His heart nearly bursts whenever you compliment him on his gaming prowess, encourage him during a particularly intense battle, or merely tell him how you enjoy hanging out. How did a gross otaku like him get so incredibly lucky? He can hardly believe you love him of all demons. The thought alone sounds crazy. 

Unable to contain his excitement, he awaits your arrival that night, ensuring everything is perfect when he hears a knock on the door. However, his smile fades the moment he lays eyes on you, mind beginning to race as he wonders why you look so miserable, your gaze trained on your hands. Before he can speak, you apologize, dissolving into tears while you return the game he let you borrow. You’re stuttering, completely breathless, and he can barely hear you confess to accidentally corrupting his data in your panic. In fact, he loses track of the number of times you choke out an apology. He treasures his games, his collection extensive, but he cherishes you most of all. The loss is a minor annoyance, nothing that lessens the feelings he harbors for you. Although difficult, he overcomes his insecurities to show you it’s okay—you’re loved.

Not only are you sad, but you’re also terrified, a part of him wanting to destroy the game itself if it means you never have to experience the pain that torments you now. Regarding you carefully, afraid to make matters worse, he reassures you that he’s not upset—far from it, honestly—and that he cares about you more than any game. No stranger to your panic attacks, he reaches out to take your hand in his, hoping you find comfort in what he has to offer. And when you finally glance up, hope shining in your tear-filled eyes, he can’t help but wrap you in his arms. A warmth spreads across his face, heart pounding in his ears, but he knows you need him, allowing his body to relax around yours.

Holding you against him, he tells you everything’s all right, stuttering out how he loves you and, most importantly, wants to you to feel better. Your arms circle around his waist, causing his heart to jump into his throat, but he only pulls you closer. You’re his Henry, and what friend is he if you can’t rely on him? Leviathan is understanding, wanting you to come to him for support at your most vulnerable. Now he puts his knowledge to the test, easing you into his room with continuous words of affirmation. You always know how to console him at his lowest, and he hopes he can return the favor. If anyone deserves to feel loved it’s you, who brought joy into his otherwise bleak world, and he’ll sit with you every day and night if you need him to. 

SATAN

Satan knows he shouldn’t be awake, though he finds it difficult to satiate his curiosity as he peruses the books lining his shelves. He barely registers the sound of his D.D.D, reluctant to put the book aside to see who’s messaging him at this ungodly hour; Asmodeus most likely. His tune changes after he sees your name lighting up his screen, his annoyance replaced by worry. He knows you struggle, especially at night, but he can tell you’re hesitant to reach out. Nevertheless, you gradually begin to confide in him, his patience limitless if you’re concerned, and he feels a sense of relief that you choose to trust him at your most vulnerable instead of suffering on your own. Pouring over every book he can locate on anxiety, he studies it religiously, engraining each page into his memory. Not by giving unsolicited advice—he doesn’t want to make that mistake twice—but by comforting you the best he can, even if it simply means staying by your side, waiting for the panic to pass.

A second later, he appears at your door, gaze softening as your eyes meet. In the darkness of your room, he can tell how exhausted you are. You apologize for bothering him, particularly this late, but he dismisses you with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile, sitting beside you on the bed. It saddens him that you feel the need to, but he’s familiar enough with anxiety by now that he understands how much of a manipulative monster it truly is; if only he can destroy it with his own two hands, strangling the life out of it so it no longer taints that innocent soul of yours. To watch you struggle fills him with a rage that he forces deep within himself, fully aware anger isn’t the answer no matter how great his desire to protect you is. So, he cups your face in his hands, your skin warm beneath his fingers as he strokes your flushed cheeks and presses your foreheads together. 

Focus on him, he tells you, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and his voice while he whispers words of love and encouragement. He never tires of letting you know how beautiful and strong you are, that he’s always here for you and loves you—all of you. You unravel in his arms, opening your heart up to him, and he listens intently, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips the moment you look uncertain. You’re not a burden, he promises, hoping one day you’ll believe it yourself, but he’ll remind you every chance he gets; forever if he must. It’s worth it in the end when you relax against him and smile, kissing him in return. Slowly, the anxiety leaves your body, Satan grateful that the waves of panic have receded enough to let you rest your weary mind. He remains next to you, pulling you down to lay your head on his chest and closing your hand in his, entwining your fingers. He’s content here with you, watching you fall asleep and chasing away the nightmares.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus loves shopping, but he loves shopping with you most of all. The day is bright with you by his side, and he can’t help but buy you clothes and matching accessories to bring out your inherent charm. Your potential is endless, and he gushes over how gorgeous you are, unable to contain his excitement when your eyes light up in return. He can hardly control himself around you, gaze fixated on your every movement and heart racing each time you flash him one of the sweetest smiles he’s ever seen; your very soul seeming to shine through and blind him. Nothing prepares him for the love he feels for you, but he considers it a welcome surprise, his desire to grow closer to you intensifying day after day. You captivate him, the Avatar of Lust of all demons. What an exciting turn of events!

Of course, he attracts attention wherever he goes, posing for pictures with adoring fans and basking in the compliments constantly thrown his way; nothing new, but he enjoys it, nonetheless. Who can resist the allure of his very presence? However, anger wells within him at the sight of you being shoved to the side, falling to the ground, and lost to the crowd that has gathered. Their words of flattery fall on deaf ears as he rushes to you, throwing a heated glance at the lowly demon who dared to touch his darling human. He desires nothing more than to punish them for such an injustice, but the fear in your eyes tells him otherwise. By the time he scoops you up into his arms you’re trembling from head to toe, and he can feel your heart pounding against him. A part of him places the blame on himself, an unfamiliar feeling, but he chooses to ignore it for now, focusing on getting you home in your worsening state.

In the peace and quiet of his room, he sits you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he affectionately runs his fingers through your hair. He can tell you’re upset—in an absolute state of panic by the looks of it—and all he can do is hold you through it, quietly asking what you need and willing to answer your every beck and call if it means that adorable smile graces your features once more. For a moment he considers seeking out Lucifer, worried something has gone terribly wrong, but thankfully you find your voice, mumbling into his chest about anxiety and panic attacks, that you’ll be fine—eventually—and are sorry for ruining your date. He doesn’t understand completely, though he knows you need him, promising to stay by your side for as long as you want. Kissing your cheek, he assures you there’s no need to apologize to him, your safety more important than anything else; the demon who laid his hands on you won’t go unpunished either.

Admitting a bath helps calm you down, he prepares one for you, steam rising from the surface and the heady scent of roses filling the air. Together you slip into the water, enveloped by its warmth, and he hums in contentment as you lean into him, his arms coming to rest around your waist. He watches you carefully, making sure you’re able to relax and preparing himself in case you call on him; he’ll do anything for you if it brings you the happiness you deserve. Your eyes flutter close, Asmodeus showering you with delicate kisses, comforted by the fact your breathing has leveled out and you appear a lot calmer than before. The day didn’t go as planned, and he hopes to make it up to you, vowing that no one else will hurt you on his watch. He loves himself, he loves his brothers, but loves you most of all.

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub notices you haven’t touched your dinner and is beyond happy the moment you offer your plate to him. Yet he can’t bring himself to enjoy the food in front of him while you excuse yourself from the table, eyes downcast and voice quiet, the usual smile gone from your face and leaving behind an emptiness that rivals his own hunger. His mouth waters at the thought of seconds, but his concern for you grows, and he decides to follow you without question, disregarding the ravenous growl of his stomach. He catches you in the hallway, calling out your name. You turn to him, his brow furrowing in unease at the sight of your tears and the slight tremble of your lip. It hurts him to see you in obvious distress, and he earnestly offers his support.

The only sound is that of your sobbing. He desperately wishes to hold you tightly and rid you of your pain. However, he falters, studying you. Your gaze is trained on the floor, shoulders stiff with tension, and the color drains from your cheeks. When you speak, he’s surprised by how helpless you sound and the fact you’re trying to reassure him, putting his needs above your own although you’re struggling to hold yourself together. Fear flickers across your features at the echo of the brothers’ voices traveling down the hall, and he mumbles out an apology as he carefully lifts you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. 

Before the others can round the corner, he hurries around the corner and slips into your room, determined to protect his vulnerable human. He notices you relax against him, your fingers curling into his shirt, and he can’t help but want to keep you close, relieved after you lean in closer to wrap your arms around his neck. Stroking your hair, he allows you to cry, his patience and love for you endless. Eventually, you mutter an embarrassed apology, thanking him profusely, but he’s merely relieved you’re beginning to feel a bit better, reassuring you that you can always depend on him. 

Listening to you intently, he never breaks eye contact. You open up to him about your anxiety, his stomach twisting as you describe what you call a panic attack and how it wrecks you both mentally and physically. Beelzebub knows he has a lot to learn, but he expresses interest in understanding anxiety and, most importantly, how he can help you, so you don’t suffer alone. For the rest of the night, he keeps you company and eases you through the remainder of your attack, giving you plenty of hugs and rubbing your back in soothing circles until you no longer shake, and your heartbeat returns to its usual pace.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor enjoys the time you spend together, especially when the two of you are alone. He asks you to accompany him in the attic, and it’s not long before he curls around you, falling into a peaceful sleep as he listens to the steady beat of your heart. However, when he awakes it’s to the sound of your soft cries in the dark, which fill him with a fear he can’t seem to shake. Without hesitation he’s at your side, sitting up to softly place a hand on your shoulder and ask you what’s wrong. The sadness in your eyes as you glance up at him, tears staining your cheeks, tugs at his heartstrings. He can’t bear to see you upset.

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he’s attentive to your needs, cradling you in his arms as you cry into his chest. You confided in him about your struggles with anxiety after you fell to pieces in front of him months ago. A part of him understands, the loss of Lilith haunting him throughout the years and instilling a similar feeling of unease within him, especially when his nightmares seem to blur the line between reality and the painful memories of his past. You always came to his rescue and now it’s his turn to comfort you in your time of need. Sleep can wait.

With you in his embrace, he brings you down to relax against the pillows, pulling the blanket around your shivering form. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he gently brushes the remaining tears from your face, whispering words of love and reassurance. He listens to you when you’re comfortable enough to talk, the slight tremble of your voice causing him to draw you closer and press a kiss to your forehead. Belphegor tells you he’s here for you—forever—and although he’s still learning about anxiety and finding the best ways to comfort you during an attack, he wants you to depend on him no matter what; even if that means you wake him up in the middle of the night. He won’t rest until he knows you’re okay, and you’re peacefully sleeping in his arms.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x mc #reader insert #noelle writes

[yoonavii]

𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒

Regency era! Sanji x reader

Description: Lady Y/N, a gifted seamstress, is chosen to craft dresses for the daughter of the prestigious Vinsmoke Family. Amidst the world of nobles, she encounters Lord Sanji, the charming third son with culinary talents. As vibrant fabrics and bold flavors entwine, will their love be durable enough to preserve the trials and tribulations ahead? or will it have to be seared and served on a silver platter? Yes that is Taz Skyler lol

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

In the western expanse of London, a tempest raged, casting shadows across the cobbled streets as Lady Dilara dashed through the rain-soaked alleys. Her breath came in ragged gasps, matching the frantic rhythm of her heart as she clutched her precious baby daughter tightly against her chest. Months of defiance, secrecy, and stolen moments with her true love had led her to this desperate escape. Raindrops splattered against her face like tears of the heavens themselves, and Dilara stole a fearful glance over her shoulder, her heart racing as the echo of pursuing footsteps drew nearer. Her fiancé's relentless hounds were hot on her trail, their loyalty to him unwavering, their determination unyielding.

With a trembling hand, Dilara sought shelter beneath a timeworn archway, her chest heaving as she huddled protectively over her child. The baby girl nestled against her, oblivious to the storm of emotions that tore through her mother's heart. Dilara's grip tightened, torn between the life she had dreamed of with her true love and the impending threat that now loomed over them.

As raindrops cascaded like crystal tears from the sky, she pressed a fervent kiss onto her daughter's downy hair, her voice a whisper borne of both love and heartache. "Forgive me, my darling. This choice I make is born of love—a love that seeks to shield you from the storm that threatens to consume us."

With a determined exhale, Dilara squared her shoulders, resolve hardening in her gaze. She knew the choice she must make to ensure her daughter's safety. It was a choice forged in the fires of desperation, a last stand against a fate she refused to accept. The glistening streets led her to an enchanting boutique, its window adorned with ethereal lace and resplendent silks that seemed to dance in the soft glow within. And there, amid the needle and thread, the prominent Madame Lucille worked diligently, her hands weaving magic into every intricate stitch.

Dilara hesitated, her heart a symphony of conflicting emotions. But then, with a resolute breath, she stepped into the boutique, the chime of a bell announcing her arrival. Madame Lucille looked up, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the bedraggled noblewoman and the infant cradled in her arms. "Please," Dilara implored, her voice a tremor. "You must take and protect her. Keep her safe from those who would cause her harm." Madame Lucille regarded her with a mixture of compassion and understanding, as if she sensed the gravity of the situation. Wordlessly, she extended her arms, and Dilara gently relinquished her daughter, tears blurring her vision as she watched the child nestled in the arms of a stranger who might offer salvation.

With a silent promise in her heart, Dilara turned to flee, leaving behind a piece of her soul in that boutique—a fragment of her hope for a better future. Regret gnawed at her heart as she disappeared into the night. Yet, deep down, she knew that her daughter’s safety and the chance to live a life of her own choosing were worth the pain she felt. It was a sacrifice born of love, and Lady Dilara held onto the hope that one day, her daughter would understand the depth of her dire choice.

——

As sunlight filtered through the curtains of your room, you stirred in your bed, the sheets soft against your skin. With a determined spirit, you swung your legs over the side and stood, stretching your lithe form to chase away the remnants of sleep. Each movement was deliberate, a testament to the discipline that had become ingrained in your routine.

The room you occupied now was a far cry from the stormy night you were born into. Pure silk sheets cradled you, an embodiment of the comfort and privilege you now enjoyed. Inhaling deeply, you basked in the tranquility that had replaced the chaos of your past.

Your morning stretches served a purpose beyond merely waking your body. The rigorous routine was a prelude to the intense sewing sessions your mother, Madame Lucille, put you through. The skills she had honed and passed on were your birthright, a legacy that connected you to the artistry and craftsmanship that had sustained you both through the years.

As you moved through each stretch, your mind wandered to the day ahead. The boutique was a hive of activity, a testament to Madame Lucille’s reputation and the demand for her creations. You had grown into a skilled seamstress under her guidance, and together, you wove magic into every stitch, crafting garments that whispered tales of elegance and sophistication.

Descending the stairs with grace, you entered the bustling world of the boutique. Bolts of exquisite fabrics lined the shelves, and the air was filled with the soft rustling of fabric. Customers sought out Madame Lucille’s expertise, each visit an affirmation of her talent and dedication. Madame Lucille’s gaze met yours with a mixture of pride and determination. “Good morning, my dear,” she greeted warmly. “Another day of creating beauty awaits us.”

You nodded, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “Indeed, Mother. I’m ready.” The days were full, but they were filled with purpose. The boutique flourished, and your hard work yielded rewards beyond measure. The comfort you enjoyed was a testament to your shared dedication to the art you had perfected.

As you continue to sew, your nimble fingers dancing across the fabric, your ears catch snippets of hushed conversation from a group of ladies nearby. Their voices carry excitement as they discuss an upcoming luncheon hosted by Lady Sora of the Vinsmoke family. Their words pique your curiosity, and you find yourself listening intently.

“Lady Sora’s luncheon is simply the most anticipated event of the season,” one lady gushes.

“Indeed, the Vinsmoke family is known for their grand gatherings and exquisite taste,” another responds, her voice tinged with admiration.

Your heart skips a beat as you overhear their talk. Lady Sora’s luncheon—such events were common occurrences, and you often played a crucial role in their preparation, crafting elegant gowns that adorned the attendees. Your mother’s reputation and your own skill as a seamstress were highly regarded, evident in the meticulous designs you lovingly brought to life.

Yet, despite your contribution to these events, a pang of exclusion always accompanied your work. You were, after all, the daughter of a successful seamstress, a talented artist in your own right. Still, invitations to these lavish affairs remained elusive, like distant stars you could never quite reach.

With a careful stitch, you ponder the conversation you’ve overheard. The ladies’ excitement serves as a reminder of the world beyond the boutique’s walls, a world of opulent luncheons and elegant gatherings. A world that, despite your role in crafting its allure, you have never truly been a part of.

As the fabric passes through your hands, your thoughts drift to the possibility of this being the event that changes everything. A small spark of hope ignites within you—the hope that perhaps, this time, you will not only help create the beauty that graces the gathering but also have the chance to step into that world yourself.

Before you, lost in your thoughts, time can carry you too far, the entrance door of the boutique swings open with a burst of energy. Your best friend, a noble girl whose down-to-earth nature has made her a kindred spirit to you, steps in with a radiant smile. The familiarity of her presence warms your heart; after all, you've shared years of laughter and secrets together.

With a wave and a joyful expression, she excitedly approaches you, her eyes shining with a secret she can barely contain. "Y/n!" she exclaims, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. Turning your attention to her, you meet her gaze with a questioning smile. "What's got you so elated?" you ask, intrigued by her evident excitement.

Without missing a beat, she produces two delicate invitations from within her dress, her fingers clutching them with an almost triumphant air. "Look what I managed to secure," she announces, her voice a soft symphony of excitement.

As her words sink in, your heart skips a beat. The invitations bear the mark of Lady Sora's upcoming luncheon—the very event you'd been musing about just moments ago. Your eyes widen in disbelief, and your fingers brush the invitation as if to confirm its reality. "An invitation to the Vinsmoke luncheon," she says, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "And not just for me, but for you as well."

The enormity of her words settles over you, and a surge of emotions wells within. She, your steadfast friend, your connection to a world beyond your own, had used her influence to secure a place for you by her side. The gesture is as unexpected as it is heartwarming.

A shared moment of delight passes between you, and then both of you burst into squeals of excitement, your laughter mingling with joyous abandon. The boutique walls seem to shimmer with the shared thrill of this new possibility, and the shadow of exclusion that once loomed has been cast aside by the light of your friend's thoughtfulness.

As the joyous sound envelops you both, you can't help but marvel at the twists of fate and the bonds of friendship that have brought you to this point. Lady Sora's luncheon—a chance to step into a world you've admired from afar—suddenly feels within reach, a dream that's now more tangible than ever. And as the excitement continues to swirl around you, you know that this event will be more than just an elegant gathering; it will be a testament to the enduring power of friendship and the extraordinary journey that life can sometimes unfold.

———

Amidst the grandeur of a magnificent estate, Lady Sora occupies the tranquil confines of her tea room. The delicate aroma of herbal tea wafts through the air as she stirs the cup, her thoughts drifting like the tendrils of steam that rise from its surface. With an air of quiet anticipation, she awaits the arrival of her third eldest son, Sanji. The estate, though opulent, carries an air of serenity that mirrors the demeanor of its mistress. Lady Sora's husband, Judge, is away on business, and in his absence, a rare freedom has enveloped her. No longer subject to the constant watchful eye, she finds herself able to move with a sense of liberation that had been absent for so long.

Her gaze is steady, her thoughts focused on the conversation she plans to strike with Sanji. He, her son whose warm smile mirrors his blonde hair, possesses a connection with her that goes beyond mere familial bonds. Out of her six children, he's the one who resembles her the most, both in appearance and personality. Their connection is a bridge that has only grown stronger with time, a testament to the depth of their understanding.

And then, with the graceful entry of Sanji, Lady Sora's heart warms like the embrace they share. His smile, a reflection of hers, carries the same warmth that his hair does. Their eyes meet, and the exchange is unspoken, a silent language of shared moments and unbreakable connection. "Mother," he greets, his voice a soothing melody that resonates with familiarity. The hug they share is not just a physical gesture but a testament to the bond they've nurtured over the years.

"Sanji," Lady Sora responds, her voice a harmonious blend of affection and genuine joy. The tea room, their haven within the estate's grandeur, becomes a sanctuary for their unspoken conversations and shared memories. As they settle into the warmth of each other's company, the estate's walls seem to hold the echo of a mother's love and a son's devotion. Amidst the tranquil beauty of their surroundings, Lady Sora and Sanji's connection blooms, a testament to the intricate tapestry of family, understanding, and the unspoken words that tie their hearts together.

With a hint of excitement dancing in her eyes, Lady Sora leans in, her voice a gentle melody as she shares her plans with Sanji. "My dear, I have wonderful news. Tomorrow, I shall be hosting a luncheon right here at the estate."

Sanji's gaze meets hers, curiosity lighting his expression. "A luncheon, Mother? How splendid! This is your first time hosting such an event, is it not?" Lady Sora's smile widens, her enthusiasm palpable. "Indeed, Sanji. I'm absolutely thrilled. The opportunity to host and arrange an event is a rare privilege that I intend to embrace fully."

As the conversation flows, Lady Sora transitions to a topic that she knows holds a special place in Sanji's heart. "And speaking of the luncheon, dear son, I have a proposition for you. Your culinary skills are unparalleled, as I've been told by many who've had the honor of tasting your creations."

Sanji's expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and hesitation flitting across his features. The memory of his previous attempts at cooking for nobility resurfaces, a reminder of the severe punishment he faced for daring to defy convention. The idea that nobles should not engage in the preparation of food had been drilled into him, a lesson reinforced by his father's strict adherence to tradition.

Lady Sora watches his reaction carefully, knowing full well the apprehension that lingers. She chooses her words with care. "I understand that there are risks involved, my dear. But with your father away, the opportunity presents itself. Would you consider lending your expertise to help prepare the dishes for the luncheon?" Sanji's gaze meets hers, a mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes. The memory of his past transgression is countered by the realization that this might be a chance to pursue his passion without fear. His lips part, and he hesitates before finally giving a subtle nod. "I... I'll help, Mother."

Her smile brightens at his acceptance, and her eyes twinkle with maternal pride. "That warms my heart, Sanji. Thank you." But Lady Sora's plans do not stop there. "And once the preparations are complete, I hope you will join the luncheon as well," she continues, her tone inviting. Sanji's eyebrows raise in mild surprise. "Me? Attend an event as a guest?"

Lady Sora's gaze softens, her words tender. "Yes, my dear. You've worked hard, and I believe you deserve to enjoy the fruits of your labor. Besides, who knows? The luncheon might bring unexpected delights." A playful glint enters her eyes, and she teases, "You might even find your true love amidst the festivities."

Sanji's response is a blend of humor and romanticism. "Ah, Mother, you have a way of turning even the simplest event into something magical." Their laughter rings in the tearoom, a melody of shared affection and a mother's belief in her son's potential. As Lady Sora and Sanji look ahead to the luncheon, they both know that this event holds more than just culinary delights—it's a step toward embracing passions, defying convention, and discovering the unexpected joys that life can offer.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece headcanons #op headcanons #anime x reader #op hcs #one piece fluff #op x y/n #op x you #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #op sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji fic #sanji smut #sanji one piece #sanji x you #sanji headcanons #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji vinsmoke x you #anime headcanons #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla x reader #opla headcanons #opla gifs #opla zoro x reader

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Angeeeeee

I'm suffering from terrible cramps at the moment and I just saw your requests are open especially for wlw

can I please have a Skade one where she helps reader with our monthly curse? smut pls I'm begging 🥺

🩶🩶🩶

Bru, my darling, I realise that your monthlies have likely ended by now. But I hope this serves as a comfort the next time Auntie Flo pays you a visit.

Warnings: Time of the month mentions, fingering but not quite, tiddy succin'. Word count: ~1200

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

You groan softly upon waking. The muted sunlight seeping through the canvas of the tent above your head indicates that it’s morning and has been for some time. You clutch at your lower belly with a muffled grunt, silently cursing your body for not allowing you a single waking moment’s peace from the curse of your moon’s blood. It’s your second day of bleeding and though you have tried your best to hide your discomfort from Skade, not wanting to hinder your progress as the two of you travel together, it is becoming more difficult to do so. The dull ache has grown to an insistent nag that plagues your every movement.

You stretch out an arm, surprised when you feel an empty bed roll instead of the warm body you’d expected to be next to you. You sit up slightly, wincing as the heaviness of your lower abdomen protests painfully, and peer through the slither of a gap in the entrance to your shared shelter.

Skade, flaxen hair cascading down her back as she hunches over a small fire, stirs a pot that’s suspended by a tripod of branches.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You call out to her.

She turns to you, before wordlessly moving to fill two wooden cups with the steaming liquid she’s been stirring and ducks into the tent. She hands you one and sits cross legged in front of you.

You sniff at the beverage, wrinkling your nose in distaste at the unappetising earthy scent. “What is this?”

“Nettle tea,” She says simply. “It helps me when I have my moon’s blood.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as she tells you this. She knew. Of course she knew. It was impossible to hide anything from Skade, she was too perceptive.

“I suppose we should start moving again soon, I have wasted half of the morning sleeping.” You say, eager to change the subject.

“We are going to stay here another day,” She tells you. “You need to rest.”

Your eyes widen, guilt blooms heavily within your chest. “That is dangerous…”

“I am dangerous,” She smirks. “No harm will come to us.”

“You cannot do this for me.” You plead, eyes wide. “We must keep moving.”

Skade sighs, rolling her eyes. “Women are afflicted by this because men are too weak willed to endure it, but there is no shame in being in pain. I see your suffering. Accept my help, and drink your tea before it gets cold.”

You smile gratefully at her and lift the cup to your lips, taking a sip. You grimace, the taste is bitterly unpleasant against your tongue. “That is vile,” You cough. “I cannot drink this!”

Skade grins, snatching your tea from you and turns slightly to place both yours and her cups just outside the entrance of the tent. She fixes you with an intense stare when she turns back, her blue eyes bright even in the shade of the canvas roof above you.

“I have another idea,” She begins. “Something that will soothe you.”

“Will you use your power?” You ask curiously, nervousness and excitement prickling at your skin.

She huffs a soft laugh, shifting forward and pushing you back as she hovers over you. “Not the power you’re thinking of. But this remedy is just as ancient.”

You stare up at her, heart fluttering wildly in your chest as the long waves of her golden locks fan around your face like a shroud. Her face is so close to yours that your lips are almost brushing, but when you lean in, she pulls back with a wolfish smile, a silent denial of what you seek.

Her fingertips deftly push up the hem of the rough spun linen of the shirt you wear, dancing delicately across the exposed flesh of your midriff, causing your breath to hitch. She smooths the flat of her palm over your stomach, before bringing it to rest against your lower abdomen, applying gentle pressure.

The warm sensation of it is a relief against the cramps you’ve been suffering. You sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

“Better?” Skade asks, her breath tickling softling against your cheek.

“Yes.” You whisper quietly, almost afraid that if you speak too loudly the moment will end.

It is then that she allows her lips to meet yours, slow and unhurried. You kiss back, relaxing as every movement serves to ease the tension in your body. You can taste nettle tea, but it is far sweeter upon her lips than it is from the cup.

Skade breaks away, moving to mouth at your neck and collarbones. Her free hand makes quick work of plucking open your shirt buttons, pushing the fabric apart to reveal your breasts to her.

You gasp, arching your back as she latches onto a nipple, swirling her tongue around it. The added sensitivity caused by your blood serves to heighten the sensation, waves of arousal causing you to clench around nothing.

It is then that you feel her hand move from your abdomen, her fingers breaching the waistband of the trousers you wear. You freeze, eyes going wide.

“What are you doing?” You ask in hushed panic.

Skade releases your breast with a wet pop and stares up at you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You surprise yourself with how quickly you answer, how certain you sound, how sure you feel.

“Good.” She purrs, eyes darkened by lust. “Then let me do this. It will feel good.”

She moves her attention to the opposite nipple, laving her tongue across it before suckling gently, as her hand continues its downward trajectory. You jolt slightly as you feel her push her fingers across your mound, cupping roughly before pressing down to spread you open. Her middle finger seeks out your bud, circling slowly, and you shiver, whimpering at the way it makes you tense and throb.

Your whimpers increase in cadence, until they are lewd moans as her circles become tighter, faster, more precise. The coil in your gut winds impossibly tight and she kisses you feverishly as she feels you tense up, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as you fall apart, white hot waves of pleasure rippling through you, all the way to your toes.

Skade withdraws her hand once you still, laying on her back beside you, watching you intently as you gasp for breath.

“Better?” She asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

Once you are lucid enough to form a response, you notice that the ache inside you has disappeared almost entirely. You feel boneless in the wake of your peak. “Much.” You breathe.

“It’s a pity that the moon has not seen fit to align us, so that we may suffer this together.” She muses, rolling onto her side and stroking your hair.

“You would want to suffer with me?” You ask, your heart fluttering, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“For as long as the gods allow it.” She tells you, resting her head against your chest.

#skade #the last kingdom #skade x reader #skade smut #skade fan fiction #skade fanfiction #skade fan fic #skade fanfic #the last kingdom fan fiction #the last kingdom fanfiction #the last kingdom fan fic #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom smut #TLK

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

part twenty-four

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: neutral, angst

el's thoughts: this was a fun part to write!! we see a little more of what y/n's life before the story started did to her, and more interactions with the crows :) i hope y'all enjoy it

main masterlist // series masterlist

Y/N could hear Nina yammering to Inej somewhere behind her, trying to teach her Fjerdan words. “No, Hring-kaaalle. You have to hang on the last syllable a bit.”

“Hringalah?” tried Inej.

“Better but- here, it’s like Kerch is a gazelle. It hops from word to word,” she pantomimed. “Fjerdan is like gulls, all swoops and dives.” Her hands became birds riding the currents in the air. 

Y/N saw Matthias look back past her to stare at Nina and quickly cleared his throat, turning back to face forward. The group was eager to get to their next stop and rest their feet, all of them silently grumbling about the bitter cold. 

Matthias, ahead of them, threw his arm out as if to stop them from contiuning forward. “Stop! You don’t want to-”

But it was too late. Nina clapped her hands over her mouth. Inej made some kind of warding sign in the air. Jesper shook his head and Wylan gagged. Kaz stood like a stone, his expression inscrutable. 

Y/N. Y/N had the most heartbreaking reaction caused only by silence. She stared with a cold stare, her mind racing through all the faces of the soldiers under her command. Those who were captured and tortured. Those who were caught and taken, never seen or heard from again. The people who placed their trust in her and this is where she had led them to.

The pyre had been made on a bluff. Whoever was responsible had tried to build the fire in teh shelter of a rock outcropping, but it hadn’t been enough to keep the flames from dying out in the wind. Three stakes had been driven into the icy ground, and three charred bodies were bound to them, their blackened, cracked skin still smoldering.

“Ghezen,” Wylan swore. “What is this?”

“This. This is what Fjerdans do to Grisha,” Y/N said. Her face was slack, and her eyes were ablaze.

“It’s what criminals do,” said Matthias. “The pyres have been illegal since-”

Y/N whirled on him and shoved his chest hard, pointing her finger at him threateningly. “Don’t you dare,” she seethes, fury burning like a halo around her. “Tell me the last time someone was prosecuted for putting a Grisha to the flames. Do you even call it murder when you put down dogs?”

“Y/N-”

“Do you have a different name for killing when you wear a uniform to do it?”

They heard it then– a moan, like a creaking wind.

“Saints,” Jesper said. “One of them is still alive.”

The sound came again, thin and keening, from the black hulk of the body on the far right. It was impossible to tell it the shape was male or female. Its hair had burned away, its clothing fused to its limbs. Black flakes of skin had peeled away in places, showing raw flesh.

A sob tore from Nina’s throat. She raised her hands but she was shaking too badly to use her power to end the creature’s suffering. She turned her tear-filled eyes to the others. “I… Please, someone…”

Jesper had brought out his gun but Y/N reached out to push his hand down. “Too loud.” Her voice came out tense and overflowed with emotion.

She pulled out a knife she had tucked into her side and walked forward. She pulled her shoulders back and sucked in a deep breath, the cold threatening to choke her. She knelt before the burnt figure and placed her hand under their head. 

“Lieutenant.” 

Her eyes widened as they spoke, their voice hoarse and cracking, barely able to be heard. 

“Lieutenant, please… Hurts.”

Y/N sobbed silently and held them tighter. “I’m so sorry. I failed you.” She shifted them so she could hold the knife to their neck. “May the Saints recieve you, soldier.” Within seconds she had slit their throat and ended their suffering. She muttered a quick prayer over them and quickly composed herself, brushing the snow off her clothes and took another deep breath. With every breath a wave of panic washed over her with the fear of the air freezing her lungs. She turned back to the group and walked over. She didn’t realize that the wind had carried their voices and the group of six before her heard everything. 

“Let’s not waste more time.”

“Thank you,” Nina choked out. She plunged ahead over the frozen ground, following the shape of the path through the snow. She was weeping, stumbling over the terrain. Matthias followed. 

“Nina, you mustn’t stray from the group-”

“That’s what you’re going back to, Helvar,” she said harshly. “That’s the country you long to serve. Does it make you proud?”

“I’ve never sent a Grisha to the pyre. Grisha are given a fair trial-”

“Then why has a Grisha never been found innocent at the end of your supposedly fair trials?”

“I-”

“Because our crime is existing. Our crime is what we are.”

Y/N mouthed the words with Nina. All second army Grisha knew the words. It’s what had been repeated to them when they talked about the outside countries. The people who hunted Grisha. Their only fault was existing and they had to deal with it. Nothing could change the way the world saw them, so why fight it. Embrace it and be prepared.

Matthias went quiet for a moment before he spoke. “Nina, had it ever occurred to you that maybe… you weren’t meant to exist?”

And that was it. Y/N snapped. Her eyes glinted with fire as she took a step toward the Fjerdan and stood inbetween the pair. “Maybe you’re the ones who shouldn’t exist, Helvar. Weak and soft, with your short lives and your sad little prejudices. You worship wood sprites and ice sprites who can’t be bothered to show themselves, but you see real power, and you can’t wait to stamp it out.”

“Don’t mock what you don’t understand.” He almost growled as he towered over her.

“My mockery offends you? My people would welcome your laughter in place of this barbarity.” A look of supreme satisfaction crossed her face. “Ravka is rebuilding. So is the second army, and when I get back, you better hope we give you the fair trial you deserve. We will put the druskelle in shackles and make them stand to hear their crimes enumerated so the world will have an accounting of your evils.”

“If you’re so desprate to see Ravka rise, why aren’t you there now?”

Y/N felt as if he had slapped her across the face. Her eyes that were burning aglow now dulled and turned cold. “I’m here to make sure this drug doesn’t get into the wrong hands. To keep our world from getting worse and falling more than it already has.” A spiteful rage bubbled in her chest as she spoke her next words. “I want you to have your pardon, Helvar. I want you to be here when the second army marches north and overruns every inch of this wasteland. I hope we’ll burn your fields and salt the earth. I hope we send your friends and your family to the pyre.”

“They already did, Y/N. My mother, my father, my baby sister. Inferni soldiers, you precious, persecuted Grisha, burned our village to the ground. I have nothing left to lose.”

Y/N’s laugh was bitter and short. “Maybe your stay in Hellgate was too short, Helvar. There is always more to lose.”

~*~

taglist: @katherinereid @littlecat21 @jahayla-parker @maliciousbrekker @brekkershadowsinger @brekkers-desigirl @clunaes @wonderland2425 @bookloverfilmoholic @karensirkobabes @bookworm-center @el-de-phi @so-get-this-sammy

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #ellora.writes

[space-man2]

Climax and Regress I: The Party

Mason and Elliot lived most of their lives under the sheltered roof of their conservative parents. It wasn't surprising that they would thoroughly enjoy their first taste of independence during their first year in college. But amid this simple freedom, they were drawn to a party game where you jump from body to body, with the goal of cumming at the given time limit. Win, and you move on to the next younger body. Last long and last young, and you gain everyone's cheers. As freshmen eager to embrace their newfound freedom, Elliot and Mason aimed to please the crowd by playing with the game.

"Hurry it up," Mason looked back and motioned for Elliot to speed up. Their first college frat party was a few blocks away, and Mason couldn't contain his excitement. He can't stop hopping in joy as he eagerly waits for Elliot to catch up to him. They have dreamed of being independent from their parents since they were kids. They wanted to have fun without worrying about curfews, restrictions, and whatever strict shit religious parents impose on their kids. And finally! After eighteen years of living under their parent's roof, they were finally independent college students who could do anything they wanted.

"Relax. The party isn't going anywhere, and we're half an hour early before it starts." Elliot adjusted his bean hat and snuggled it close. The October chill was colder this year. He couldn't stop shivering despite the thick bundle of clothes. He rubbed his hands and hurried close to Mason.

"What if they are already there?" Mason said. He realized Elliot wouldn't match his speed, so he slowed to his turtle pace. "If they aren't, we could help my cousin Tommy set up the place. We can learn how he sets up parties. And maybe. Just maybe. We could set up our own parties in the future!"

"Our dorm is too small to host the parties. And I doubt my aunt would let us party in her flat. However, I have to agree that we have to get to the party faster. It's getting colder all of a sudden." Elliot sped his strides to Mason's satisfaction. They reached Tommy's frat house within moments, and the place was already alive with strobing lights and booming beats. It was the sole property on the end of a cul-de-sac, which meant they could be as loud as they wanted. There was no fear of getting visited by the police.

Ten minutes before the assigned time, the yard was already filled with students from various campuses around the city. Tommy is well known for being a social butterfly and for his colorful, eccentric personality. It also helped that he was the sole son of a tech mogul in Silicon Valley. Elliot didn't expect that Mason's family, who lived in the Bible Belt their whole lives, had a relative that raked billions in the tech business. Mason didn't dive that deep into that part of his family, so Elliot didn't pry further.

They entered the place like two wet chicks lost in something they hadn't seen before. They skimmed through the drunks and those lost in the revelry. One guy with messy blonde hair grabbed Elliot by the shoulders and gave him one long, cheap booze-tasting kiss. Elliot's eyes widened in surprise before pushing the offender immediately.

"What the fuck, man?" Elliot said. He looked at the boy. He had good looks to him, not going to lie. If you discount the unkempt hair, the smell of death from drinking gallons of beer so early in the part, and the unfocused stare in those droopy eyes, you could see a blonde boy who won several Prom Prince awards in a row. Elliot felt flattered by the kiss, but the way it was done infuriated him. He gave the boy one sharp look before the boy tumbled back and fell onto the couch, unconscious from alcohol.

"I have to apologize for Daniel," Elliot and Mason felt a hand on their back. They turned to look and saw the host of the party, Tommy. "I told him to tone down on the booze, but he wouldn't listen. He was still confused after playing with the porcelain dick."

"Tommy!" Mason opened his arms and hugged his cousin. "How's it going, bro?"

"Never better. How are you doing? How are your parents?"

"Elliot and I are adjusting well. We've had a lot of firsts, which are fun. First party. First kiss." Mason made one cheeky look at Elliot before darting to Tommy. "We're going to have our first drinks since we were born. Maybe we'll be as blackout drunk as your friend and kiss your other friends. As for my parents, they're still cunts."

Tommy laughed, his head reeled back and tipping off the paper umbrella from his Martini. "That they are! I knew you weren't as stuck up as your parents. Come! Since this is your first party, I'll introduce you to the points of interest."

Tommy led them by the hand and waded through the noise and crowd. They went to the kitchen, where partygoers lined up through the makeshift open bar tended by another student. Since Tommy was the host, he simply walked to the bartender and requested two Screwdrivers for Mason and Elliot. Elliot hesitated to drink, and Mason didn't drink until his friend did. Once Tommy assured them that it was just vodka and orange juice, both took hesitant sips before they got used to the hint of alcohol in the taste. While they drank, they went outside, where half-naked men and ladies swam in the glowing pool and bubbling jacuzzi. The pool was filled, so swimming was out of the question. And they weren't out of their minds to swim under such cold weather.

They went inside again to this long hallway filled with stone statues, rusting armor, and various weird shit Tommy had collected over the years. Mason hadn't seen the collection, but he knew Tommy splurged his father's money on peculiar artifacts he found on the hundreds of vacations he had worldwide. Tommy once brought a book made of human leather during their Christmas Eve dinner. And that was a disaster, considering he was brought in under a radical Catholic household.

After their look-see at Mason's collection, their last destination was the living room. More guests were in this part of the house. They were huddled around a man with closed eyes, sitting alone on a sofa. He was holding something white and long in his hand. Upon a closer look, they realized it was a disembodied porcelain dick. A USB wire is attached to the part where the dick should connect to the groin if it was part of a statue. The wire connects to a TV screen showing the first-person perspective of a Middle Eastern man jerking off in front of his reflection in the mirror.

"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!" The crowd chanted in unison. The man on the television grunted and moaned as his deft fingers slid smoothly over his cock. While this happened, the unconscious man holding the porcelain dick grunted too. Strangely, the unconscious man grunted together with the man on the television.

"What the fuck is this?" Elliot asked. He stared at the sexy Middle Eastern model in his mid-30s jerk off his sweaty dick. He saw how the man smelled his armpits while he did it.

"Do you guys want the short story? Or the long one?" Elliot and Mason weren't in a hurry, so they chose the long one. "I bought that porcelain dick from a collector in Greece. I think I did. I don't know. There was a lot of shouting and gunshots involved. Disembodied marble dicks are a dime a dozen in Europe, but something enthralled me to procure that thing. I can't put it into words, but it felt like it whispered to me."

"Whispered into you?" Mason couldn't believe what he was hearing. "A porcelain dick whispered in your ear to buy and grope it?"

"That was exactly what it said to me. I bought it, stuffed it into my carry-on baggage, and went home to get it. The next thing I know. I woke up in this fat, old geezer's body with my hand wrapped around his shriveled cock."

"And here I thought a porcelain cock whispering into your brain wasn't weird enough," Elliot said. Mason snickered to Tommy's annoyance. But Tommy continued with his story.

"There was a countdown on the corner of my vision, and I thought death awaited me when it reached zero. So I did the sensible thing and jerked off with the wrinkled dick on my palm. I jerked off like my life depended on it. At the time, I thought it was. It didn't take long for me to stain that man's bed with cum. God! I didn't expect people living in retirement homes could cum that much. I came so hard that I lost consciousness. The next thing I know, I was in another man's body, holding another man's dick, with a shorter countdown in my vision. That's when I realized it was a game."

"A game?" Elliot and Mason asked.

"Yes, a game! The rules are this. Grope that dick thrice and close your eyes. You'll wake up in another man's body with a countdown on your vision. You must cum before the time runs out. If you win, you move on to the next younger body. If you lose," Tommy trailed his words and filled them with suspense. Elliot expected to get stuck in the body, while Mason expected death. "If you lose, then nothing happens. You're kicked out, and you could do it again."

It was a fantastic party story, but it sounded more like a prank to them. That's what they do at parties, right? Prank guests for cheap laughs. It seemed so elaborate, considering many people were in on it. From the crowd chanting "cum," to the unconscious jock cumming his pants while his possessed avatar in Korea tried to cum on a condo balcony. Elliot and Mason laughed together, expecting Tommy to say it was a prank. It turned from hilarious laughter to nervous chuckles when they saw Tommy's unchanging face.

"Wait, it's real?" Mason asked.

It was a fantastic party story, but it sounded more like a prank to them. That's what they do at parties, right? Prank guests for cheap laughs. It seemed so elaborate, considering many people were in on it. From the crowd chanting "cum," to the unconscious jock cumming his pants while his possessed avatar in Korea tried to cum on a condo balcony. Elliot and Mason laughed together, expecting Tommy to say it was a prank. It turned from hilarious laughter to nervous chuckles when they saw Tommy's unchanging face.

"Wait, it's real?" Mason asked. "Don't tell me you're not kidding."

Tommy took one final swig of his Martini before setting the cocktail glass aside. "I know I've embellished most of my stories in the past, but this one is real. Hell. I've made it into a party game, and it's a smash hit. Half the people here don't even know what this party's about. They just want to play with that porcelain dick. Not that I mind. It's entertaining; it's fun knowing most of the chumps who played the game haven't come close to my high score."

Tommy pointed to a whiteboard beside the TV screen. It lists the players' names, and a column labeled 'Age' is beside it. Tommy's name was in first place with a circled number 25 on the side. It was followed by others whose scores were above 30. By the looks of it, you rank higher by scoring a lower age. Elliot was going to ask for clarification, but it seemed Tommy had already noticed what he was about to say.

"I'll explain the rules of this game so you two chumps can understand and join. Do you know how the dick works, right? Grope it thrice, and your mind is sent on a body mid-sex or mid-jerk. Your goal was to cum under the time limit given to you. It's usually your body's age multiplied by three. If you're a 70-year-old geriatric coot, you'd have 210 seconds to jerk off that decrepit rod. If you do manage to whack off old pop's cock, you'll be sent to the next younger body. Sometimes, you regress by five years or twenty if you're lucky. But that also means your time limit is decreased. The goal is to be as young as possible. That number there means the youngest I've possessed was 25 years old. It was a cute virgin lab technician getting sucked off by his gay professor. God. I wished I could bust that nut in that professor's mouth. But there are rules to this, and I'll list each one, so listen. I am not going to tell them again.

One. You could never let go of your dick. Your hand shouldn't stop holding the shaft if you're jerking off. If it's in someone's mouth or asshole, you better keep that motherfucker in place. If you let go, you'll be given three seconds before you lose the game.

Two. We can see everything you do through that TV screen, but you cannot see us. If you're in trouble in the body you found yourself in, you're on your own.

Three. Don't talk about the porcelain dick whenever you're possessing someone. The dick doesn't like that. Kevin talked about it when he took over a prisoner's body. The next thing he knew, his timer went through the roof, and the prisonmates and guards formed a line to fuck him like they were hypnotized.

Four. Have fun, put on a good show, and try to beat the high score. Because it seemed our friend Joshua wasn't going to push below 35."

Mason and Elliot couldn't utter a response after hearing everything Tommy said. But he sounded sure of his words, and the crowd cheering for ejaculation supported Tommy's story. If this was a prank, it was way fucking well-made. The two looked on the screen hooked to the porcelain cock. It seemed that Joshua possessed the body of a man in black overalls stuck in the bank's vault. Elliot could assume what situation he was in. The man he took over was a robber left behind by his companions. Stuck in the vault, the criminal spent the last moments of his life outside prison by jerking off. Three stress and tension don't make good companions for cumming. Joshua was in bad luck when he possessed that body. When the time hit zero, Tommy pulled Joshua out of the seat and told the others it was his turn. Only it wasn't him playing this time. He looked at Elliot and motioned him to grab the porcelain dick.

Mason and Elliot couldn't utter a response after hearing everything Tommy said. But he sounded sure of his words, and the crowd cheering for ejaculation supported Tommy's story. If this was a prank, it was way fucking well-made. The two looked on the screen hooked to the porcelain cock. It seemed that Joshua possessed the body of a man in black overalls stuck in the bank's vault. Elliot could assume what situation he was in. The man he took over was a robber left behind by his companions. Stuck in the vault, the criminal spent the last moments of his life outside prison by jerking off. Three stress and tension don't make good companions for cumming. Joshua was in bad luck when he possessed that body. When the time hit zero, Tommy pulled Joshua out of the seat and told the others it was his turn. Only it wasn't him playing this time. He looked at Elliot and motioned him to grab the porcelain dick.

"You try. Then it's Mason, after." Tommy grabbed Elliot by the wrist and pushed him onto the dark sofa with questionable white stains. "I am getting the gist that you're more depraved than my cousin. You'll be putting on a good show, won't you?"

"I- I don't know. I don't think I'm ready." Tommy grabbed his hand and put it on the porcelain dick. Some warmth remained from the last user.

"Most of these people weren't ready when they did their first time. Don't worry, I'll guide you." Tommy laid his palm over Elliot's hand and made him stroke the smooth porcelain shaft. Elliot couldn't put it into words, but he felt energy surge and terminate in his head with each caress of his finger. "Close your eyes. It is not a guarantee, but it helps if you think of the body you want to possess. And don't forget to breathe."

Elliot closed his eyes for the final stroke. Tommy let go of his hand and allowed him to do the final one before sending his soul to heaven knows where. As his index left the tip, a massive force dragged his fingers back, making a wrap around the shaft. The sudden jerk surprised Elliot, and he tried reeling his hand away. But he could not. The force was too strong, and there was this feeling of being ripped from his body. It felt like his body was stuck in a glue trap, and a mysterious hand peeled him away. When it did, he lost all sensation of his body. There was nothing. It was a dark, silent, odorless, tasteless, and tactless existence. There were no winds nor howling gales, yet he could feel the force dragging him across time and space.

Then Elliot's senses returned all at once. He could feel the air dancing on his skin, a sweat drop trailing from his brow, his chest heaved from the lack of air, and his cock was on fire. He didn't need to open his eyes to confirm. He was somewhere else, in someone's body, stealing the pleasures they were about to feel.

~Chapter 1/8~

•·················•·················•

Chapters:

✅ The Game Mason and Elliot listen to Tommy as he explains the rules. It’s simple. Possess a body. Jerk off under the time limit. Succeed, and you move on to the next younger body.

🔒🔞 Gerald Hughes (USA)  65-year-old With tears in his eyes, a son pleads to his father. “If you want your name in the will, better suck your father’s cock, boy,” Gerald says before his body is possessed by a college student from the opposite seaboard. #Inheritance

🔒🔞 Eli Hall (Britain) 59-year-old Tired after a month away from home, Eli could scarcely contain the excitement of coming home to his lover hungry for his cock. That was until he was possessed, and his long-awaited blowjob was stolen from him #Old Couple

🔒🔞 Rui Liang (China) 48-year-old Elliot finds himself in the body of a Chinese Triad member while in the middle of his revenge against rival triads. It was up to him to fulfill his body’s thirst for vengeance. #Mafia

✅ Francisco “Paco” Perez (Spain) 33-year-old There’s only darkness and pleasure inside the DHC-6 floating in the middle of the Balearic Sea. Elliot finds himself in the arms of a larger man, who knows how to please his body. #Sex on Sea

🔒🔞 Yusuke Watanabe (Japan) 29-year-old Yusuke hasn’t returned to his home in a year, and his younger brother was eager to partake in the pleasures they once had for each other. Elliot finds himself in the middle of this intimate interaction #Brotherly Love

🔒🔞 Charles Foster (USA) 24-year-old Aboard the USS Vanguard, sleep continues to elude Charles. That’s when his squadmate suggested he jack off to tire out his body. Too bad for him, he is unfortunate to be possessed by someone more eager to jack off his cock at the expense of his reputation among his squadmates. #Military

🔒🔞 Party’s End Elliot becomes closer to Mason in way he could never imagine.

•·················•·················• Join my Discord Server and read 190+ SFW and NSFW shorts and stories! Join now by clicking here! Paid subscribers could also read my stories on Blogspot. Read them by clicking here.

#Body Possession #Male Possession #Possession #Male Body Possession #Age Regression #Age Progression #Male Age Progression #Male Age Regression

[kalpeavaris]

"Saviour"

An excerpt of my Reborn!AU novel, now visualized in a drawing :) It shows William after a gruesome fight with Yvette, losing his throat and voice in the process and finding shelter and help at Henrys place, re-uniting him with his formerly lost business partner and friend yet again.

If you're interested to read the scene that was the inspiration for the drawing, it's included below in the post!

If it hadn't been so unusual for him to receive visitors at all, Henry probably wouldn't have paid any attention to the scratching on his front door. But now the man looked up, his suspicious gaze slid to the hallway, and within moments his hand was on the shotgun next to his reading chair. He slowly straightened up, his every movement marked by his knowledge from the military, long ago, but by no means forgotten. Whoever - or whatever - was at his door probably wanted to draw attention to themselves. A diversionary tactic? For a moment, the man was completely silent, not moving, until all of a sudden a pained moan could be heard. It was like a plea, a cry for help. Maybe someone was in danger. He immediately picked up the gun and rushed to the door, pulling it open after a brief unlocking... and then slammed it shut again. Whatever lay there on his welcome mat was not human - or animal. Henry breathed in and out in a panic, his sweaty hands gripped the weapon and he was already thinking about releasing the creature... when he sensed this strange aura. Remnant? His eyes widened. No, it couldn't be. He had destroyed the last traces of this damned material. No one could have gotten to it, no one except... William. The pieces of the puzzle came together in his mind's eye, causing Henry to sit up slowly and open the door again. Whatever was there, it was William. His old business partner... And so much more. 'Damn' What had William done to look like that again? Not just this gruesome form, but the blood that adorned him. Questions upon questions that Henry would ask him later, because first he had to help him. Putting the gun aside, he opened the door once more, using all his strength to somehow get his old friend inside. Again and again his hands slipped out of the bloodstained, rough fur, but Henry refused to be deterred and dragged William into the cellar bit by bit. Afterwards… he would go and mop the floor, that much was certain. "What are you even doing with your life anymore," Henry muttered as he searched the room for anything useful with which he could treat his 'patient'. "Every time we see each other, it has something to do with blood."

#five nights at freddys #fandom #my art #fnaf #willry #henry emily #william afton #springtrap #spring bonnie #yellow rabbit #fnaf art #fanart #cw: blood #cw: wound #bloody #drawing #illustration #procreate #artwork #five nights at freddys movie #reborn #fanfiction #writing

[maplleaf]

"Dear wanderer, forget me."

Kaedehara Kazuha x gn!god reader

< angst >

A/N: kazoo boy, my main, ily

You were a God, emphasis on "were"

Even before the Archon War, you've never had a large following. The only reason why you're alive is because of the original electro archon gave you mercy.

Makoto gave you and your followers a village to stay. Though unfortunately, the times where you would see your people live their lives and hear their laughter is long gone.

Over the decades, your followers left one by one. Leaving you with a desolated village and a single house to stay in. Going to Inazuma city is a choice, though you decide not to since the Raiden Shogun would possibly kill you; and the living expense of Inazuma city scaring you even more.

Truthfully, you were jealous of how the God of Eternity manage to become such a beloved archon. You wanted to have a life where those under your protection would be happy, a life where they can feel safe by your side.

Alas, now you're staring at a painting one of your followers made a thousand year ago. It took a lot of work just to keep it maintained, but looking at it brings you comfort.

A voice of someone outside caught your attention, "hello? Is someone here?"

The grip on your sword tighten instinctively. Recently treasure hoarders and Nobushi have been around the area, and you couldn't risk any of your belongings getting destroyed or taken.

The voice spoke again, "you see, I'm a wanderer. I heard that rain might come soon, therefore I was hoping that you could shelter me in your home until it stops," he explained. "Of course if you can't, it is fine."

You couldn't help but feel pity for the wanderer. Despite the lack of social interaction for a long time, you could feel the sincerity in his voice. Whilst holding your sword close, you opened the door cautiously.

The wanderer's hair is white with a visible red streak. His clothes are similair to what a respected samurai would wear, but calling himself a wanderer made you think he's no longer within the higher-status of Inazuma.

"Come in," you told him, making room for him to walk inside your abode. The wanderer stepped inside after giving you an appreciative smile.

"Sit down, I'll go get you a drink," the wanderer did as he's told as you walked to your kettle.

"I apologize for the cold tea, it's been sitting before you arrived," you explained before looking back to see him looking at you with a gentle smile.

"It's no matter. I may be a guest but my arrival was not expected," he pointed out. You placed his and your cup of tea before sitting down across him.

"So what's your name, wanderer?" you started. He slid the tea closer to him before answering.

"My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Your lips formed a smile, it's been a long time since you've had a decent conversation with someone, "I'm (y/n), it is a pleasure to meet you as well."

To your surprise, Kazuha asks about the painting, "if I may ask, who is that person in the potrait?"

Your grip on the teacup tightened. "It's a God that this village used to follow; the God of Dreams," you couldn't help but chuckle, "though they are long gone now. I'm only here to preserve my ancestors' memories."

Kazuha noticed your change in demeanor, but didn't want to point it out. "Must have been a kind God," he spoke, taking a sip of the tea.

It took a couple seconds for you to process his words. You were far from powerful; it's why none of your followers stayed. The only place where you have power is in dreams, where nothing there is going to become reality.

"What makes you think that?"

The wanderer laughed, "if someone like you stayed here for them, then they must be a kind God."

Your eyes widened for a moment, before a wave of laughter couldn't help but escape. "You're a smooth one, Wanderer."

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

The next morning, Kazuha returned to his life of a wanderer. You were saddened for a moment, though he promised to visit if he's nearby again.

As a God who have lived for thousands of years, you were surprised that he kept the promise. The wanderer sometimes dropped by for a cup of tea or to talk to you.

You both traded stories; Kazuha's tales coming from his adventures as a wanderer, whilst yours are about your people's experiences thousand of years ago.

You had a feeling that Kazuha had realized who you really are, but you don't feel the need to tell him yet. Your time as a deity have long passed, and you enjoy the life of a simple mortal much more now.

It should've been obvious that nothing is going to last forever.

It's been a few weeks since Kazuha last visited. You paid it no mind, seeing it as the wanderer going to other places. A barrier of storms around Inazuma had also formed. Even if you're living in a secluded area, you could see the purple clouds and sounds of thunder coming from the sea. Maybe you should ask Kazuha when he comes next time.

Since news of Inazuma city doesn't concern you, it took awhile for any kind news to reach you. Therefore seeing Kazuha being chased by multiple Inazuma guards caught you off-guard.

You didn't have the time to think about what's happening, using the little power you have you placed all of the guards to sleep. You grabbed Kazuha's hand and took him back to your home. The adrenaline rush made it hard for you to hear what Kazuha is saying as you guided him.

The two of you made it safely, albeit you felt like you just finished a 10-mile run.

Though you can't just ignore the elephant in the room, "mind explaining why you were chased by them?"

Kazuha lets out a sigh, "the vision hunt decree... It's the reason why I wasn't able to visit you for the past few weeks."

Any sorts of news regarding 'the vision hunt decree' never passed your ears. Though the name itself tells the story quite easily, and the blank and gray vision in Kazuha's hand tells another.

"My friend... he," Kazuha lets out. It's one of the few times where he's speechless, the internal pain he feels coming out.

You wrapped your arm around Kazuha as he returned the gesture, "it's okay. I understand." Kazuha's friend sometimes visited you as well. Whilst the two of you aren't close, it would be a lie to say that you didn't care about him.

The vision hunt decree is what's concerning you most. As a God you're not in any danger since you don't have a vision, Kazuha on the other hand.

He's currently wanted, and could possibly be killed when caught. Seeing as how the Inazuman guards from earlier could trace his steps into your home; this place isn't safe either.

"Kazuha," you called his name. You didn't want this ending, all you really want is a happy life where you could spend at least a few years with the samurai. "You should leave Inazuma.

Kazuha pulled back from you, his eyes wide; something that you rarely see from the calm and collected wanderer. "If I were to leave, what about you?"

You ruffled his white hair, giving him a painful, forced smile. "Isn't that what a wanderer does? Going to new lands far away," your point isn't wrong. Kazuha's safety is what matters, if he stays in Inazuma then there will always be a chance that he'll be executed.

You could see that Kazuha isn't going to falter. It's always been one of the things that made you admire the wanderer; his determinations and morals. Kazuha already connected that your home isn't safe anymore, and it's just a matter of time where you would be wanted as well. Whilst the samurai has placed past grievances in the past, he's not going to lose someone again.

It's rare that Kazuha felt inclined to stay because of someone. His love for nature and wandering the lands made it almost impossible for him to stay in one place. Yet, you're an anomaly. He doesn't want to leave you, nor does he want to lose you.

He knows you won't leave Inazuma, making it impossible for both of your desires to come true.

Out of the sudden, a choice came into your mind; one where both parties would benefit. Kazuha would get his safety, and you would spend your last few hours with him.

Holding him close, you pressed your forehead against him. 'This is the right decision,' you repeated multiple times in your head, but the hesitation to do it made it hard.

"Kaedehara Kazuha, you have been a wonderful companion; one that I never had for the past hundreds of years," Kazuha didn't have a good feeling of this, but listened to your words.

"I'm doing this for our own desires and needs," a golden aura began to form around you two.

You knew this is the end. You're weak, even placing those Inazuman guards to sleep took a toll on your energy. A God with no followers; your existence is an anomaly, especially after the Archon War.

"My dear Wanderer," your body began to dissapear, growing transparent by mere seconds. Before Kazuha could act you already spoke your last few words. Back when you were powerful, you were able to erase your followers' memories and create fake ones regarded as 'dreams.' You didn't know it would be useful once more.

"Please forget me."

---------

When Kazuha opened his eyes, he's met with a sword on the ground. He's familiar with the sorrounding that he's in, but could not recall a single memory relating to this place. The samurai looks at the sword once more. As a family of blacksmiths, he noticed the special engravings on the simple blade, along with how worn out the sword is.

When Kazuha touched the weapon, he's met with the feeling of calm and safety. Something he longs for, even as a wanderer. He felt like he should take the sword, as if the wind is telling him how important this blade is.

Kazuha's hearing made it possible for him to hear footsteps coming close to the house. The samurai remembered running in this house right after he was chased by multiple guards. Seeing how he would be caught in mere seconds if he doesn't act, Kazuha listened to the wind and took the abandoned sword before leaping out one of the windows.

As Kazuha ran far away, he felt the blade smiling at him.

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

#kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x male reader #kaedehara kazuha x m reader #kaedehara kazuha x gn reader #kazuha x gn reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazooo bby #angst #kazuha x male reader #tomo #kazuha genshin

[spectraltouch]

Thinking about corrupting a sheltered girl over time.

She starts off knowing nothing about sex except scattered preconceptions that are pretty much all inaccurate and modest. She's even hesitant to hug for more than 5 seconds, let alone kiss. But I patiently work at her. First I get her used to casual physical touching. Hugs that linger until it's just us holding each other. A hand on her shoulder or arm or hip as she slowly stops flinching away from my touch. Hugs from behind. I move onto kissing, starting off with caste pecks, then longer, more passionate kisses while she's wrapped in my arms. Kissing places other than her mouth, starting with her forehead and moving to her ears. Playing off ear kisses as a jokey type of thing while noting how she shivers when I do them. Then I kiss her neck and feel her tense up completely, then slowly melt for me. I'm slowly pulling her shirt off of her shoulder and kissing my way along her exposed skin before she realizes she should stop me because removing clothes, even as innocently as that, is inappropriate. But the kissing doesn't stop, and before long I'm teaching her about french kissing. And she's getting so drunk on my affection after so long avoiding it that she doesn't realize I'm fondling her tits through her clothes until I feel a hard nipple poking out and gently squeeze it. She gasps, then moans. Then jumps apart from me, blushing and flustered. I know I can't push too far, too fast. So I let her process things for a few days. No touching at all. But I can see that she misses it, and it doesn't take long before she asks for more kisses. When I pull away from the intense makeout session that follows she's got a completely dopey look on her face, and her nipples are prominent even under her modest shirt. I ask her if she likes what I've been doing with her. She blushes but admits she's been enjoying it. I press her until she reveals that she's been playing with her nipples the way I did the other day. I ask if she wants me to do it again. She nods, unable to make herself say the words.

That's really the tipping point. Once I'm playing with her nipples and getting her to admit to more and more "depraved" stuff (depraved for someone like her, pretty vanilla and basic for the rest of us) she's as much under my thumb as her nipples are. As she's confessing while I toy with her nipples, I notice she's spreading her legs, ever so slightly. Without even thinking about it, it seems. So I slip my thigh between them. And within a few minutes of slow and gentle grinding she starts to stutter her words, then go completely silent. And tense. Her legs squeeze my thigh. And I feel something wet. My only acknowledgement is to lean in to her ear, give her an extra hard pinch on her nipples, and whisper "Good girl" to her. Which kicks off another orgasm almost immediately.

From then on I have her, completely. Turns out when you make someone who's sheltered and repressed cum twice in the span of a couple minutes they turn into little sluts. Go figure. She doesn't resist when I ask her to sit in my lap. She resists more when I tell her to lift up her skirt and show me her panties, but eventually she obeys. I drink in the site, then tell her to spread her legs so I can see them better. More resistance that melts away. I nuzzle at her neck for a moment. A reward for obeying. Then I give her a firm slap to her pussy. She yelps. Her legs slam together, trapping my hand against her panties. She's whimpering, and looks back at me, wondering why I did that. "That's for being a naughty little whore, showing off for me like that." She's so confused. But with my hand pressed into her crotch, I can feel her panties getting wet. So I start to rub her. Her eyes widen, and she turns to look, like she can't believe what she's feeling. Her legs twitch, like she's not sure if she should open them or keep my hand pinned there. Then they slide open when my other hand finds a nipple and my lips touch her neck. So I slap her pussy again. She instinctively pulls away but I hold her there until the moment passes. For a second I'm not sure if she'll struggle more. But then she relaxes back into me. Keeping her thighs tight around my hand this time. All of my attention and stimulation draws an orgasm out of her in no time. I get to feel her shiver and convulse against me. And when she comes down from it, and she looks up at me and groggily thanks me, I feel a twinge of guilt for what I'm doing to her. But it doesn't last long. We both enjoy it too much.

Which is why she ends up naked in front of me before too much time passes. She had no idea anybody could make her feel the way I do. She never even did it to herself. So she has no defense against going along with everything I tell her. I ask her how the person she was just a few months ago would react if she saw her now, naked in front of me, eager and waiting for me to have my way with her. She blushes, but i can see the arousal manifest as she thinks about it. She tells me that past her wouldn't understand. That she was a fool for not exploring this kind of pleasure. And I know she's all mine. So I reach out and play with her tits. Tug on them like I'm milking a cow and tell her to moo for me. She moos, her voice thick with arousal. I crouch down, tell her to spread her legs so I can see her pussy better. She obliges, and I can see how wet she is already. I tell her she has such a pretty pussy. Then I tell her that, unfortunately, we're going to be completely ignoring her pussy today. She's confused. I'm sure she expected that today would be the day I finally fuck her and take her virginity. Instead I tell her I'll be taking her ass instead. Ignoring her tight little pussy and fucking her ass instead. Because I'm sure she'll enjoy it. I'm sure it'll make her cum. I'm sure I can make her cum with her ass stretched around me.

And she can't deny it. She can't deny that everything i've ever done to her has turned her on. Felt good. Made her cum. So why would this be any different?

"It's not, princess. It's no different. I'm just turning you into my perfect little whore. And part of that is ignoring that pretty pussy and making it quiver and drool and gush anyway."

#corruption kink #mind conditioning #huc0w #oops I wrote some smut because some posts inspired me

[vintagepresley]

Oh my gawd?! I have a brilliant request for you dear! Remember in the Elvis movie Elvis and his buddies are on the road and his mother calls him non-stop because she is worried about his safety from all the fangirls and he gets a visit from a mysterious woman at his door walks into his room where the music Craw-Fever begins and you know the rest 😏. Instead the role is reversed where the reader and her gal pals are having a road trip or a girl's night out including watching Elvis in concert. The reader and her overprotective mother had a conversation on the phone at a hotel saying to watch out for men to take advantage of ya since we are a virgin/beauty looking and knows what's best for us etc. And we know for the billionth time and telling her not to worry etc. We kind of feel lonesome confided in our room laying on the bed until we get a knock on the door and lord and behold Elvis Presley shows up with a smile walks in our room as we are so shocked along with feeling a trance at the same time as the music Craw-Fever plays!!! I imagine this with Austin Elvis 😍 and he did saw us at his concert thinking we are the most beautiful woman ever to lay eyes on knowing we are a virgin from our body language and will show the reader what real love feels like - passionate, sensual, fun, and wild telling us that we have nothing to fear as he is very gentleman and kindhearted- he does want us to be his bestest girl!!!!!

Craw-Fever

Having an overprotective mother was a blessing and curse at times for you especially because you felt so sheltered from the actual world at times. While all your friends were going on dates and dating guys, you were at home in your room listening to your favorite Elvis records daydreaming of him being your boyfriend. Just getting the chance to see him in concert would be a dream come true. You lived in the same part of Memphis the he did but only caught glimpses of him. He was traveling and playing all sorts of concerts within the south most notably the Louisiana Hayride. You wanted to go so bad that a few of yours friends talked about taking a small road trip down to Louisiana which you knew was going to take some convincing when it came to your mother. She was always so worried that something was going to happen to you and sometimes it felt as if she didn't trust you or your better judgement. But after speaking with your friends some more and pondering the idea and the fact that it was a once in a lifetime sort of thing, you decided to ask your mother while the two of you had dinner.

You nervously slipped out of your room as she called you down once the food was ready and you took inhaled softly and sharply exhaling as you got downstairs and waltzed into the kitchen sitting down at table and smiling as your mother prepared your plate and sat in front of you, once you were both sat the table you picked at your food a bit taking small bites as the question you wanted to ask her lingered through your mind that you couldn't bare to eat. "You aren't eating.. What's the matter, honey?" she asked sweetly. You picked at your food some more as you stared over at her and letting out a soft sigh. "I.. I have something I wanna ask you, mama." you mumbled. She furrowed her brow worriedly. "What is it?" she questioned. "A couple of my friends want to go down to Louisiana to see Elvis Presley.." you mumbled. "That boy who does all the wigglin'?" she interrupted. You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Mhm.. They invited me.. I was hoping to go..." you whispered.

Her eyes widen at your words. "I don't know about that, Y/N. A bunch of young beautiful girls traveling to Louisiana by themselves?? It does not sound safe." she uttered. "Mama, please.. We will be safe. It's a whole group of us. I really want to go. I'll just die if I can't see Elvis!" you said dramatically. She raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. "Stop with the dramatics. I don't know.. What do their parents say?" she asked. "They're fine with it because they trust them. Pleaaaaseeee. I never ask to go anywhere. Just this once, please?" you begged. She let out a soft sigh seeing how much this meant to you and as hesitate as she was about this whole thing she decided to let you have a bit of freedom. "Fine.. Okay, you can go. But there's going to be a few rules." she muttered. Your eyes widen at her words and you hopped out of you, giving her the tightest. "Thank you, thank you! Whatever the rules are I'll do!" you beamed. She laughed softly as she hugged you back and kissing your cheek. You settled back down in your seat and began to eat your food happily as she went over the few rules she had for you. Those rules being that she expected you to call her at each stop you made on the way there and also remembering to call her every night. Those rules seemed simple enough to follow so you agreed.

That night you excitedly called your friends up and told them the good news and then you got your suitcase packed double checking that you had everything because you were so overwhelmed with excitement that you thought you may forget something. It was a long night of tossing and turning because you couldn't sleep just the very thought of seeing Elvis, breathing the same air as Elvis had you completely over the moon. You eventually were able to fall asleep and the morning had come quick and despite only getting a few hours of sleep you sprang right out of bed and got yourself ready for the day knowing that your friends would be coming to pick you up shortly. It was humid day out Memphis and you could only imagine how it was in Louisiana. So you wore pair of black and white checkered shorts with a white blouse with a pair of white flats to match. Your friends pulled up in the car and the muffled sounds of he horn blowing got your attention and you glanced outside the window waving to them with a wide smile. You grabbed your suitcase and luged it downstairs with you. Your mother already standing by the door with a worried look on her face and already doubting her decision to let you go.

You smiled at her and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek as you hugged her tight. "Don't worry, mama. I'll be fine. I'll call you as soon as we stop" you whispered to her and giving her a tighter hug. She nodded and watched as you headed out of the house and throwing your things in the trunk of the car as you hopped in with your friends and waving to your mother with a wide smile. She waved back with the same worried look on her face just praying that her daughter would be okay. You felt a sense of freedom as you went on this mini road trip with your friends knowing that this was probably very hard for your mother to do and so you wanted to be as cautious and safe so she didn't need to worry. The trip was going smoothly as you and your friends laughed and sang Elvis songs together and once you made your first stop to get gas you used the pay phone to call your mother and to let her know how the trip was going so far and how long you had to go. As the trip continued on and you made a few more stops for gas and snacks you called her and you could tell she sounded a bit more relieved knowing that you were okay.

You finally got to your desired destination that evening and checking into your hotel and finding your rooms the moment you got inside you called your mother letting her know that you got there safe. After getting off the phone you began to unpack and the only thing on your mind was what you were going to wear for the concert tonight. You wanted something that would catch Elvis' eye but you knew it was a long shot for him to even notice you in a sea of girls, but you had high hopes it was everything you ever dreamed of. You decided on a pink checkered dress with small buttons that went down along the middle of the dress and spaghetti straps. Once you had showered and did your hair and makeup you slipped on the dress and soothing it out along your curves that it hugged so well and then paired with some heels. You grabbed your purse and headed out of your room to check and see if your friends were ready. You quite relieved when they were wanting to get close enough seats at the show. You all excited drove to where the Hayride was being held and bought your tickets for the show and hurried into the auditorium getting a few seats right at the front.

Your heart was racing and your cheeks felt flushed as you exhaled softly at the anticipation of Elvis. They had started having him perform last because of how the chaos in the crowd he caused and so the other acts before him appeared dull and a bit boring to everyone because they mainly came here for Elvis. It was finally the moment of truth and back stage Elvis was a nervous wreck no matter how many times he's done this now he was always still so nervous and shaking like a leaf, he stepped out onto the stage and roar from the crowd was wild all the girls including yourself standing up to their feet as the screams went wild. You were shaken up and in shock and awe by the very sight of this beautiful man who came out dressed in a white suit with a black lace top, his leg was already shaking a mile a minute before he even started to sing but the moment that voice rang out it was madness. You were screaming and jumping up and down in place it was not like you to act so out of character, but he brought this out in people. You did your best to get his attention wanting him to see you, notice you, anything.

There was a moment when the two of you had locked eyes and a small smile formed on his lips at the sight of you but that lasted for just a second and that second meant the world to you. You didn't know it but that moment he saw you he fell in love. You couldn't stop smiling he was so handsome, more handsome than what he looked like in all the pictures you've seen. The way he moved and wiggled around the stage, the way he sang and grinned as if he had no idea what he was doing to all the girls in the crowd only made your crush on him deeper, the very sight of him had you in love and by the time the show was over you felt like you were in a trance, everything felt so surreal that on your way back to your hotel room you felt like you were on cloud 9. He smiled at you and that's the only thing you thought about. You let out a soft sigh as you got back into your room, changing into your nightgown as you got ready for bed and making sure to call your mother one last time before the night ended and you told her all about the concert and then when you both had said goodnight you laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling feeling so confided in your room wishing that every night could be as fun as the one you had.

Elvis was winding down from the great show he just had but he didn't forget about you not for a second when the two of you had locked eyes, he was memorized by your beauty and he needed to know who you were, so he asked around about you describing you to everyone who might of seen you and finally coming across the person who sold you a ticket that had actually struck up a conversation with you and your friends and he told Elvis that you had come all the way from Memphis which that only made his face lit up knowing you were from the same place he was and when he found out where you were staying he wasted no time searching for you. When he got to the hotel he of course got recognized and he used that to his advantage a bit to find out what room you were staying in. He nervously looked for your room, fixing his hair and soothing out his suit and hoping that it wasn't weird of him to have asked around about you.

You continued to just lay in bed and the surreal feeling finally wearing off that you felt a bit sad now what you had really hoped for was that you could've met Elvis, but you were grateful nonetheless. You reached over to turn on the radio and tuning it a bit until you heard one of his songs playing on the radio a smile forming on your lips. Suddenly there was a light knock on the door and you furrowed your brow a bit wondering who that could be. You slipped out of bed and grabbed your robe, slipping it on as you went to answer the door and you cracked it open a bit, peering out of it. Your eyes widen at who it was and you opened the door wider now, completely stunned to see Elvis Presley himself darkening your doorway. "Oh my god.. I.. Your.. Is this real?" you asked nervously, confused at how Elvis even found you or let alone remembered you. He cleared his throat softly, letting out a soft chuckle. "I know this is a bit weird.. But I saw you at the show tonight and I-I couldn't stop thinking about you. Y'know when we had that moment together.." he smiled You blushed a bit knowing exactly what he was talking about but still in shock that he even remembered and that the moment you shared prompted him to come out searching for you.

You weren't sure what to say because you couldn't stop blushing. "It's not weird at all.. I remember the moment.." you said shyly. He grinned widely. "C-Can I come in?" he asked. You stared at him completely in a daze that this was actually happening and you snapped out of it, giggling softly. "Yes.. Of course.." you said softly, inviting him the radio humming softly in the background as you shut the door closed. He turned to face you and he was standing so close that you felt like you couldn't breath with how beautiful he looked, his hair was tussled and his eyes so blue that you felt like you could melt right there. "You were the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on, darlin'. Where have they been hidin' you in Memphis?" he said with a soft laugh. You felt your face heat up from how flustered you were, trying to cover your face with your hands, raising an eyebrow at the fact that he knew you were from Memphis. "You must of really been searching for me." you giggled. He began to blush now and he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Maybe a little.." he smirked. "Well, my mama doesn't really let me go out much. She's super protective. Just being able to come see you was a miracle." you laughed.

"I don't blame her. Pretty lil' thing like you, it's not safe out here." he said lowly with a curled up little grin as he reached over to brush his hand along your cheek. You closed up your robe a bit more as he moved closer and you backed up a bit, becoming more nervous and blushing like a school girl. He noticed your body language and he wasn't surprised that you probably never been alone with a guy before and he smiled warmly. "No need to be nervous with me, honey." he said softly. You chewed on your bottom lip as he towered over you and you stared up at him innocently as the two of you stood there in silence as your faces drew closer to one another until your lips hovered each other's and you swallowed harshly never even kissed a boy before, but he took the lead and placed a soft kiss to your lips and you were frozen in place and in your mind telling yourself this whole thing was a dream, there was no way Elvis was kissing you, but he kissed you once again which snapped you out of your racing mind which made the whole thing feel so real, kissing him back slowly, it felt like a dream come true kissing your first boy and that boy being Elvis Presley.

You felt his hands slip around your waist and he carefully and gently pulled you against him, but you pulled back a bit feeling like things were moving too fast for you. "Elvis.. I-I've never.. I don't do things like this.." you mumbled a bit embarrassed. He smiled at your words and he nodded slowly. "I know, honey.. I know, if you want me to stop I will." he whispered. You let out a soft sigh as your hands rested against his chest and you took a moment to think knowing that despite how nervous you were that a small part of you wanted to do this and wanted to give in to his desire. But another part of you was scared, nervous, and confused as to what this was and why it was happening. "I just.. I want to, but.. I don't want to give myself to someone if this is just one time thing and I'll never see you again.." you said hesitantly. He pulled back just a bit as he took your hands into his, he nodded understandingly. "I promise this is not that, baby. I know this is going to sound crazy, but that moment I saw you from that stage and we locked eyes.. I-I was in love. Just knowing you're from Memphis I feel like I know you already." he said softly as he intertwined your fingers with his. You were speechless, completely utterly speechless.

"Elvis.. Why me? There's nothing special about me.." you shrugged. He furrowed his brow at your words, shaking his head. "Are you kiddin'? Out of all the girls in the crowd you were the one that caught my eye, that nearly had me distracted and basically in love at first sight. You're beautiful and a good little girl, I can tell.. I'd do anything to make you my bestest girl.." he said with a wide smile forming on his lips, every word sincere. Your eyes nearly welled up with tears of joy and you couldn't help but think how crazy this all was but in that moment you felt so many deep crazy feelings for him. You squeezed his hands in yours as you exhaled sharply. "I want to... I want you.." you hummed. He pulled you right back into his embraced holding you against him as his lips traced against your cheek and pressing soft kisses to your face. "I promise you I'll be gentle and show you exactly what love feels like.. Passionate, sensual, fun, and wild. I won't hurt you, baby." he whispered into your ear.

You despite your nerves you believed his every word and you wanted nothing more for him to be the one to show you those things. You slipped your arms around his shoulders as you stood up on your tiptoes as you captured his lips in a deep kiss and he slipped your robe off from around you, letting it fall to the floor and he smiled at the sight of your nightgown. "So cute.." he mumbled as lifted you up from the ground just enough to carry you over to the bed with him a small squeal escaping your lips, this was everything you ever dreamed off to have a man sweep you off your feet and the moment he laid you down on the bed it felt like a scene out of a movie when suddenly the song 'Craw-Fever' started playing softly from the radio. You couldn't help but giggle at the wild coincidence as you slipped your arms around Elvis' torso and he raised an eyebrow at your giggle. "What?" he grinned. "Nothing..." you smiled and he leaned up to kiss him slowly, your legs parting as he moved himself between them. His lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck as one of his hands carefully ran along the curves of your body, feeling every inch of you as his hands caressed the gentle fabric of your nightgown.

You let out a soft gasp as you felt his hands all over you and his soft lips on your neck and the weight of his body on top you as you pulled him closer. He lips moved further down kissing over your collarbone and he reached up to slide the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders as he pressed soft kisses over both of them and he continued this cute little teasing of his, the more he tugged your nightgown down the more kisses he pressed against every inch, every curve of your body until he slipped the gown off and tossed it to the side and you laid there in just your panties bringing your arms up to cover yourself shyly. Elvis smiled at your shyness and he grabbed a hold of your arms slowly removing them as he shook his head. "I wanna see you.." he whispered. You took a deep breath and the thought of being naked in front of any man especially Elvis made you painfully shy, but with how sweat he was being and caring those feelings faded and you rested your arms back around him and his eyes wandered over your body with a wide smile. The soft sounds of the music playing so perfectly with this moment.

He cupped your face in his hands and pressed several kisses to it mumbling the words, "You're beautiful.. So beautiful." under his breath. You blushed at his words and you ran your hands up and down his chest and tracing your fingertips along the buttons of his black lace shirt and carefully unbuttoning each one until his shirt was wide open and you slowly slipped it off of him and it fell to the side and you ran your hands over his bare chest, tracing your fingers along his soft skin and he smiled as he leaned down and pressed gentle kisses against your chest and your arms slipped back around him, running your fingertips along his back. His lips tracing over your breasts and the moment he cupped them in his hands a gasped and captured your bottom lip between your teeth feeling his lips wrapping around one of your nipples and your nails dug a bit into his skin at the enticing feeling that came over your entire body, and a soft whimper escaped your lips as his and he sucked hungrily at your nipple and you tossed your head back against the pillow letting out another gasp as your eyes rolled shut at the intense feeling.

He grasped your other breast in his right hand as he pinched and tugged at the sensitive bud between his fingertips, the more he pleasured you the more you craved, yearned and desired him to be inside of you. It was a feeling you had never experienced before and now that feeling was burning inside of you that you could feel the liquid pooling between your legs that you could feel the mess it was making on your panties. Elvis slowly released your nipple from his mouth and he dragged his tongue across the other and playfully biting at it that it caused you to squirm beneath him and let out small whines and then he kissed along your breasts and made his way down your abdomen and the feeling of his lips on your stomach tickled that you couldn't help but giggle quietly and he glanced up at you with a smirk. You watched with curious eyes as his lips reached your panty line and he kissed along the hem of your little white panties.

The feeling satisfying in so many ways that he had your head spinning and the two of you were just getting started. He hooked his fingers beneath the delicate fabric and he slowly tugged your panties down that clung to your soaked pussy and when he caught a glimpse of the mess you had already made in your panties a sly smirk formed on his lips as he tucked them inside of pocket. He ran his hands along your thighs and he could feel you trembling in his light grasp. "It's okay, little one.. I'm going to be gentle with you.." he whispered. You so badly wanted to just cover up and hide because he was so close to the most private area of your body and the way he looked at you like he was ready to devour his very last meal made everything even more intense. He spread your legs open wider for him as his head moved further between your legs and he pressed light kisses against each of your thighs as he kissed his way up with excitement to the aching heat that only became more and more soaked by the minute for him and it became more visible the close he got.

You shivered at the very touch and as you inhaled sharply with anticipation and once he had finally reached the area he wanted the most he pressed loving kisses against it. He meant what he said that he would be gentle with you. Your hands reaching down as you tangled your hands into his soft raven colored hair, letting out a airy breath as your toes curled against the bed and you swallowed slowly. His tongue slipped between your sopping folds and your breathing hitched as a shaky gasped left you and you whimpered at the arousing feeling that washed over you as you felt his warm tongue buried deep between needy pussy and lapped up every bit of your sweet nectar. You tugged at his hair as your back arched and your head tilted back as you moaned out in ecstasy. His tongue circled around your swollen clit, flicking his tongue back and forth against it before wrapping his lips tight around the sensitive bud and he sucked greedily as if he had an insatiable hunger for you that he couldn't control and that only caused your moans to grow louder and your whimpers leaving you in a soft cry as your hands tugged hard at his hair.

He held onto your thighs as he wrapped your legs around his shoulders and he buried his face into your pussy the more he sucked, saliva gathering at the sides of his mouth as it dripped down your pussy and he felt your legs shaking around him as you tried your best not to squeeze them around him. "Oh god... Elvis..." you mewled. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, you had no idea what to expect from this but it was better than you could've imagined, the places he was taking you as he pleasured you and pushed you further into your bliss. He smirked at the sounds that escaped you and he brought one of his hands between your legs and he took two of his fingers and he dragged them between your slit and playing in your slick until you got his fingers coated in it along with his saliva. He released your clit from his mouth and lifted your head up and glanced down at him seeing your slick glistening across his face. "Just try to relax for me, baby.." he mumbled. You nodded slowly at his words so desperately needing more of him.

He placed a kiss against your right thigh with a smile as he teased his two fingers around your untouched virgin pussy, he slowly, carefully inched his two fingers into your tight hole and he felt you clench around him immediately and your body tensed up, he rubbed his other hand over your right thigh to try to relax. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, little one.." he hummed. You did your best to relax at his reassuring words feeling the pressure of his fingers trying to slide inside of you and once he was able to get you to relax again he continued to push his fingers further inside of you feeling you tighten around him. "Fuck.." he hummed. As he very slowly pumped his fingers inside of you, he wanted to get you ready for his cock and wanted to ease you into it. You pursed your lips together tight from sharp pain you felt and you grasped at the sheets beneath you clutching onto them tight. "Taking my fingers like such a good girl.." he whispered. His words of praise and the linger sounds of Craw-Fever playing in your head even as it had ended on the radio helped you to take your mind off of the stinging pain. You felt as his long fingers moved further inside of you until they were buried inside of you.

He pumped his fingers just a tad faster watching as his fingers moved in and out of you and each time that they did his fingers were completely covered in your slick making it easier for him to move his fingers in and out and soon you were moaning out once again the moans sounding like soft cries but you were enjoying every minute of it. He did his best to try to stretch you open enough for him with your fingers and when he felt that you were ready he carefully slipped his fingers out of you, smirking at the sight of his messy fingers as he took them into his mouth and sucked you off of them and he moved back up so that he was hovering about you once again and he kissed your lips. "You ready, baby?" he whispered on your lips. You took a deep breath and you nodded in response. "Yes, I-I am.." you said nervously, running your hands slowly along his sides. He kissed you once more planting a soft passionate kiss to your lips and he felt your hands move down to his pants, unbuckling his belt and then unbuttoning his pants.

You had no idea that he rarely wore underwear that when you tugged his pants down his hard cock came springing out and hitting right up against your thigh and you placed your hand over your mouth, giggling softly from the feeling. He chuckled at your reaction thinking it was the cutest thing and he removed his pants kicking them off to the side as he pressed right up against you, grinning as he combed his fingers through your hair. "I hope little Elvis didn't scare ya.." he chuckled. You laughed softly, shaking your head at him and a slight blush forming over your cheeks. "He didn't scare me at all.." you whispered. "Y'know and not to pressure you into anything.. I was wondering if you'd.. Maybe..." he didn't know how to ask and you raised an eyebrow. "What?" you questioned. "If you'd suck my cock a little.." he mumbled. "Oh.. I-I don't know how to do that.. Will you teach me?" you asked shyly, you didn't want to say no especially with him going down on you. He tried to hide his smile at your question. "Course I will, little.." he hummed.

He climbed off of you with a boyish grin and he sat beside you as he leaned up against the headboard and you turned over onto your stomach as you rested up against his thigh, your eyes widening at the sight of his large cock and licked over your lips as you stared up at him with your innocent doe eyes. He combed his fingers through your hair as he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped it around his cock and you could feel him pulsing with your grasp and you hungered for him more wanting so badly to feel him inside of you. "Just stroke it a little and I'll guide you through the rest, baby." he muttered. You nodded and your hand slowly stroked his cock which caused a low groan to escape his lips at the very touch. You watched as the precum leaked from his swollen wet tip. "Put your lips around the tip, little.." he mumbled softly. You slowly moved closer to his cock and parted your lips just enough to wrap them around his aching tip the saltines of his precum gliding across your tongue. he

He choked back a loud groan as he began to quietly pant at the feeling of your warm mouth around him and he inahled deeply as he watched you so innocently sucking on the tip and staring up at him as you did. His hand tangling within your hair and the sounds of your sucking only furthered his arousal, he carefully pushed your head down just a bit further to take more of him into your pretty little mouth you didn't try to stop him seeing the pleasing expression on his face as you pleasure him, your hands grasped a bit tight onto his thigh as you bobbed your head slowly on his cock and sucking just a little faster just enough that some of your saliva that gathered in your mouth drooled down his cock and you moaned softly around his cock. "Goddamn.. You're doing so well, baby.." he praised as he clutched onto your hair. He titled his head back against the headboard of the bed as he groaned out louder and soft whimpers leaving him as his breathing grew heavier from the feeling of your mouth sucking harder and swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip. "S-Shit.. Y-You're gonna make me cum.." he moaned.

When you heard his words you popped his cock out of your mouth, staring up at him as your saliva dripped down your chin. "I-I'm sorry.." you mumbled. He chuckled softly, shaking his head at you. "Oh darlin', that's a good thing. But I don't want ya making me cum just yet and I haven't gotten a chance to make love to ya." he grinned. You smiled widely at his words wiping your mouth clean with the back of your hand. "Lay down, honey." he mumbled. You nodded at his words and you turned back around to lay on your back and he moved to climb back on top of you the weight of his body on you was something you craved. He reached down to wrap his hand around his cock and he teased the head between your folds and you whimpered softly at the feeling. He nuzzled his face against your cheek as he whispered into your ear. "It'll only hurt for a moment, my love.." those reassuring words of love were all you needed to know that you were one hundred precent ready for this. "I trust you.." you whispered back.

As he lined himself up with your entrance you took a deep breath as you prepared yourself and as soon as he pushed his cock inside of you that's when you exhaled sharply from the sharp and tense pain of him taking your virginity and making you a woman and that same song playing in your head at the most perfect moment once again, but you realized it wasn't in your head it was actually coming from the radio, it was playing again at such a beautiful moment with a beautiful man that you now deemed it as your song that you would share together. His groans snapping you back into reality and you pursed your lips as he pushed himself further into you and you let out a crying whimper, feeling him thrust himself inside of you slowly. "Y-You okay, baby? Do you need me to stop?" he whispered softly as he tried to choke back a moan. "N-No.. D-Don't stop.. Please.." you begged. He smirked as his face buried into the nape of your neck as he shoved himself all the way inside of you and you moaned out so loud that it came out in almost a scream as he plowed into you at a steady pace, his hips hitting against your own as you wrapped your legs around his hips tight and your hands gripped onto his strong arms, pulling him close against you as you clung to him as you buried your face into his left shoulder blade.

Your moans coming out muffled against him as did his own as he kept his face buried in your neck, sucking softly and leaving his mark on you as he picked up the tempo within you and plunged into you harder, deeper completely stretching out your pussy around him as his cock forced you open the feeling of your tight wet pussy felt as if you were made just for him. "F-Feel so damn good around me, baby.." he mewled. It felt as his the song was playing along with the rhythm he played within side you, his cock slamming against your cervix and it felt as if he bruising your insides, but every thrust, every moment inside of you felt like pure bliss that the moans that escaped you were nearly inaudible as your mouth formed an O shape. "E.. Oh god, baby.." you whimpered. You couldn't do anything else but whimper against him as he fucked you senseless, your nails clawing at his skin as you fought desperately to keep yourself from screaming from pleasure. He grabbed a hold of your thighs holding them tight as he held you still and now he couldn't control himself as his forcefully made you take him balls deep, your body aching, quivering beneath him as you heaved softly, it felt like someone had turned the heat up in your hotel room, but you soon realized it was the heat radiating off the both of you and the beads of sweat that formed on your bodies.

Your body began to tense and grow numb a fire in your belly growing stronger and stronger as you felt those pleasurable feelings so intense that you felt like you were going to explode, that's how strong your orgasm had felt. Your legs began to shake around him and felt like the room was spinning the way he through you into a frenzy. "I-I.. Elvis.. You're gonna make me cum.." you cried. He lifted his head and grabbed your face with his hand and forced you to look at him and you stared deep into his piercing eyes that were full of lust and love for you. "That's right, baby.. Cum for me.. Cum all over what's yours, what belongs to you.." he mumbled. You clenched your jaw as you choked back your noises but it was all too much that you couldn't do it any longer and within an instant your orgasm hit like tidal wave and your eyes rolled back and your body froze as you cried out his name as came all over his cock. "Ah fuck.." he grunted out. It only took seconds for his orgasm to hit right after that he didn't have time to pull out before his thick warm cum came spirting out and coating your insides white. His hips stirred inside of you as he came to a slow stop.

He collapsed on top of you his cock still leaking inside of you as he took a moment to catch his breath and you clung to him not wanting him to move as you breathed heavily. It didn't even both of you that he hadn't pulled out the euphoric feeling still washing over you that you didn't care about anything else in this beautiful moment with him. He reached down to pull himself out of you and he groaned softly and you whimpered at the sudden empty feeling, his cum seeping out of you. As he tried to move off of you to lay down you shook your head with a pout. "No.." you whispered. He smiled warmly. "Okay, baby, I'll stay.." he whispered sweetly as he caressed your face. "Honey?" he mumbled. "Yes, Elvis?" you hummed. "I-I know it's sudden. Very sudden.. But will ya be my girl?" he asked shyly. The widest smile formed on your sleepy face and you captured his lips in a deep kiss and mumbling softly, "Yes, of course I will!" you beamed.

He grinned devouring your lips with his as he kissed you passionately and sloppily and you let out a soft noise against his mouth before you pulled back and giggled quietly. "Mama is going to freak when she finds out I'm coming back with a boyfriend. She'll probably faint when I tell her who it is." you laughed. He chuckled softly. "We don't want that.. We'll ease her into it." he said softly as he nuzzled his face into yours. You let out a soft content sigh feeling so safe within his embrace and knowing that you had nothing to fear with him, that he truly was a sweet, kindhearted southern gentlemen and that one thing was for sure you were his bestest girl...

**

Thank you so much for the request babe. I got a bit carried away. This was so cute and sweet and I hope that I did your request justice! ❤️

@purejasmine I finally did another Austin related fic!

#austin!elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis x y/n #austin!elvis fluff #austin!elvis smut #elvis presley #Austin butler #requested

[pansear-doodles]

[Rain World Anthro AU] The Gourmand's Bedtime Story

As the rain fell overhead the Outer Expanse, wildlife has already retreated to their living abodes, sheltering them from the density of the water’s great push. It was quite late at night, but life still thrives energetically in a peculiar home as the chittering of small noises echo softly in the narrow halls and loud footsteps can be heard as well, running about.

The Diffuser, a small blue pup with a skittish side to them, eagerly pounces away from their twin sibling, The Corroder, a green mischievous one, who hastily chases after them. Within their stir they cause slight rug pulls and tipped objects that don’t shatter.

As The Corroder corners their sibling to a place where they can no longer hide away from, large arms suddenly grasp them from behind- it was their godmother- The Gourmand. They gently sweep away the small pup off the floor, playfully rocking them before tickling them. He carries the blue pup as well, doing the same. Both of their reactions: giggling and affectionate.

As The Gourmand hobbles away with the now calmed pups, she hushes them. “It’s pretty late you two! I know I said 15 more minutes, but this is already a lot!”

They groaned. The Corroder was the first to speak before their sibling: “Come on… I want to play more!”

“Yeah! I’m not tired!” the other sibling followed, as both let out a big yawn.

The Gourmand chuckled. “Your mother is not going to like sleepy pups in the morning!” They enter a room dimmer than the halls, adorned with various child-safe objects but more importantly- a large comfortable bed for the two pups to sleep in. The Gourmand sets them down as they pull up the large quilted blanket, waving it up and settling it down over the pups as they lay their heads to the fluffed up pillows.

Although a bit tired, the pups stared at him, as if pleading. The blue one was the first to speak: “Tell us a bedtime story!”

“Yeah! Tell us!” The other followed.

The Gourmand looked at them with softened eyes and a reassuring smile that any of her friends can recognize is a treat that awaits delivery from them. “Of course! I can tell you about one of my first scouting missions!”

The pups’ eyes widened with curiosity and intrigue as they snuggled up more comfortably, eagerly awaiting to hear the story from their most favorite uncle. The Gourmand walked towards the bedding and sat down gently, facing towards the pups.

“Would you believe that I wasn’t the best scout in the colony back in the day?”

The pups were in utter disbelief, gasping even. “But you ARE the best scout!” The green one argued.

The Gourmand let out a small laugh. “Not always. You see, I was really clumsy and I didn’t know my sense of direction very well!”

“You didn’t know where to go?” The blue one asked.

“I did have a map! It was given to me by the chieftain. He asked me if I could collect some Eggbug eggs for the colony, as we were running low on food and the next rain cycle was about to come. He didn’t have much confidence in me, after seeing that I messed up my previous missions before, but he trusted me anyway as all the other scouts were too busy. I was really the only one left as nobody wishes to partner up with me.”

“Didn’t you have friends?”

“Oh Diffy, no I didn’t! They… Didn’t like me for some reason. Something about… Looking different. I didn’t know why at the time but I was certainly trying to make a good name for myself. Really I did!”

“Oh those jerks!” The Corroder remarked.

Gourmand hushes them as they pat their head. “Now, now, language. I know your mothers say that all the time accidentally but I’m sure they don’t want YOU to say that. They want you to grow up to be nice slugcats.”

“Alright fine… But it's the truth!”

Gourmand chuckled before moving on. “Now where was I… Ah yes! So I set out on my journey to find eggbugs. The map points to me the usual place where they can be found. I traversed through the highest walls, avoided the most dangerous lizards and walked past the steepest and narrowest passages my young eyes ever witnessed! I went through all of that until I reached my destination. I searched high and low for any eggbug at all but… I couldn’t find any! I felt like my journey was all for nothing… Until I heard some tapping noises. I followed the direction of the noise, feeling that it’s a lone eggbug scattering about. But something bad happened! I almost fell off a cliff and I didn’t notice it!”

The pups gasped as The Gourmand takes a break, allowing them to breathe in the story. “Thankfully I held onto the ledge, but the blustering wind forced me to lose my map as I climbed back up! I couldn’t get it anymore. I was now lost and didn’t know where to go and what to do.”

“But what DID you do?” The blue one asked so impatiently, clenching the ends of the blanket tightly as their body and their sibling’s inch outwards in excitement.

“I took a deep breath and tried to not panic… Well I did panic in the end. Haha! But my panicking stopped when I heard the sounds again- only this time I spotted it- the eggbug! I hurriedly chased after it, ignoring any minor object that blocked my path but very quickly I ran out of breath, and it got away. I was upset but I remember what my own mother told me: work smarter, not harder.”

“What does that mean?” Questioned the green one.

“It means I need to plan my moves! I climbed up a tall pole and waited for the eggbug to come, hoping that it wouldn't see me from up there. I waited… And waited… And waited… Until…Tap. Tap. Tap.”

“The eggbug?!” The two cried out in unison.

“Mhm! Right underneath me the eggbug stood. I knew what I had to do. I jumped and fell on its back! Crushing it down with my weight. The eggs bounced all over the place and I had a workout collecting each one. I took one bite and it was delicious! Satisfying!”

The pups cheered as The Gourmand took a break once more from the talking.

“But there was just one problem.”

The pups were confused, tilting their heads. “What is it?” Asked the blue one.

“I was lost, remember? I did not have the map anymore. So what did I do? Well I could try retracing my steps. That’s exactly what I did. After collecting all the eggs, I had more thinking than trying to actively find a way. I remembered the steep passages, the dangerous lizards, and the high walls. But in between this journey of recalling what I passed, I heard a call for help. I recognize that it was from another slugcat from my colony! I raced to the direction of the call and discovered that it was a mother slugcat surrounded by orange lizards! She was clutching her two pups tightly. There was nobody else but me who was there to witness it. I didn’t know what to do as I never tried fighting off lizards before, let alone even protect someone! I looked at my bag of eggbug eggs as I stared back at the mother slugcat… Then I had an idea. I shouted very loudly, grabbing the attention of every orange lizard and held the bag up high, waving it around to make it tempting. I threw it as far as I could as the lizards chased after it, completely ignoring myself and the mother slugcat.”

“No! The eggbug eggs!” The green pup yelled.

“But! But they were for the colony!” The blue one followed.

“They were! But little me thought safety first before food. I went up to the mother slugcat, who was still shivering from the incident. She was very grateful for my heroic act and so were her pups. Funny enough… Do you want to know who these two pups were?”

“Who who?” They asked in unison.

“Why… It's your aunts! Survivor and Monk!”

The two pups were dazzled. “Woah!”

“This was my first time seeing them eye to eye and I’m very glad I gave them a positive impression. The family and I went back to the Outer Expanse. I was ready to be met with angry responses for not bringing anything back but what I was met with in reality were cheering and praise by the other slugcats. They recognized that I had saved the chieftain’s wife and pups, and hailed me as a hero. If it weren’t for me, Survivor and Monk would probably have larger scars. It was the happiest moment for me back in the day and from then on I was more respected, especially with my smart thinking and craftsmanship. ”

The two pups cheered for the happy ending, but their excitement was quickly overtaken by their sleepiness and louder yawns. The Gourmand smiled, knowing that she had successfully convinced them to rest, witnessing their eyes open and shut until they completely closed. Their breathing became more softened and peaceful.

They whisper their goodnights to their beloved uncle as they falter to their slumber, and he replies back. The Gourmand stands up slowly and quietly leaves the room. He smiles to himself with the thought: “Another successful night! Can’t wait to see how they’ll react to breakfast!”. She walks to the living room and sits down on the lone couch chair. They grab a book on the side and continue off their night reading the adventure within- that someone else has written for them to witness, as the sounds of the rain from the outside tap the exteriors harshly yet so thoughtfully.

The End.

#i actually made this a while back so now tumblr gets to enjoy it too #im not the best at writing but here #enjoy! #writing #rain world #rainworld #dp spoilers #downpour spoilers #anthro au #my anthro au #gourmand #artificer #artihunter

[elrondsimp]

do you suppose we could have a company x modern! reader oneshot where one evening they get the idea to try drawing a light glyph (like from the owl house) and it actually works and just about everyone else is baffled because they didn’t think humans could do magic and the reader’s just sitting there amazed because holy mahal they just did magic.

if you’re up for it. please, and thank you

The Hobbit X Gn! Reader

“Owl house?”

A/n: I’ve never seen owl house (and never will) so I hope this was good enough.

The wind howled through the darkened forest as rain poured down relentlessly. The company, seeking shelter from the storm, huddled together under the meager cover of a large rock formation. Gloin and Oin, the dwarven brothers, were desperately attempting to start a fire, but their efforts were in vain. Frustration mounted, and their argument grew louder with each passing moment.

Thorin, the weary leader of the company, raised his voice above the clamor. "Enough!" he commanded, his tone filled with exhaustion. The arguing ceased immediately, and the dwarves turned their attention to their leader.

Just then, Y/n, a human who found themselves transported to this fantastical world, had an idea. They had witnessed magic during their time here, and though they lacked the innate abilities of the dwarves or other magical creatures, they had an inkling of an idea that might just work.

"Wait," Y/n spoke up, their voice filled with excitement and hope. "I have an idea. Give me a moment."

Curiosity piqued, the company watched as Y/n reached into their pocket and pulled out a small notebook and a pencil. With deliberate movements, they sketched a glyph on a blank page, the symbol reminiscent of the magical glyphs from a show they used to watch.

Once the glyph was complete, Y/n held up the page, the rainwater sliding off its surface. They whispered a few words, their voice barely audible over the storm, and with a flick of their wrist, they released the page into the air.

To the astonishment of everyone present, the glyph on the paper began to glow softly. A warm, gentle light emanated from it, casting an otherworldly glow over the surrounding area. The raindrops that came into contact with the light turned into tiny sparks, fizzling away harmlessly.

The dwarves' eyes widened in disbelief, their jaws dropping in awe. They had always believed that only those born with magic could harness its power. Yet here was a human, from a completely different world, conjuring magic right before their eyes.

Y/n could hardly believe it themselves. The realization of what they had just accomplished sank in, and they couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and wonder. They had always been captivated by tales of magic, but now, they had become a part of that magical realm.

Thorin, recovering from his initial shock, approached Y/n, his expression a mixture of amazement and gratitude. "You have brought us a ray of hope in this dark hour," he said, his voice filled with appreciation. "Your magic has saved us, Y/n."

Y/n, still processing the magnitude of what had transpired, smiled humbly at their companions. "I may be from a different world, but I am honored to stand among you and share in this adventure."

As the storm raged on outside, the company found solace in the warm glow of Y/n's magical creation. In that moment, boundaries of race and origin were forgotten, replaced by a shared sense of awe and unity. Together, they weathered the storm, bound by the magic that now flowed within and around them.

#lotr #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit #y/n #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin and company #thorin x reader #thorin x you #the fellowship of the ring #lotr x reader #gloin #oin #dwarves #gn!reader

[martellspear]

— young!rhaenicent | word count: 782

based on the song "ivy" written by taylor swift for my evermore series.

“No one will know,” Rhaenyra insisted. The light squeeze on Alicent’s hand did little to reassure her.

“It’s not a matter of doing what’s right only when we are before the judgment of the world, Rhaenyra,” she whispered but did not stop walking, “it’s what we do when we’re alone that counts.”

A decorated speech, her Septa had made sure Alicent held those words dear. She’s to be a perfect lady, the Gods watchful eyes are on her even when it’s unbeknownst to her; besides, what she does in secrecy, when no one is truly looking, it’s what counts.

Rhaenyra kept their fingers interlocked as they walked through the narrow tunnel.

“We’ll live only once, does that do not count as well?” Rhaenyra whispered but the curved walls carried her voice, it barely sounded like a whisper.

“That should make you wish for a long life, but you’ve taken it upon yourself to go against it,” Alicent spoke quietly, her eyes still not completely accustomed to the dimness of the passage. Rhaenyra stopped suddenly, causing Alicent to crash lightly against her friend.

“Do you wish to go back? Say it and we’ll return.”

Alicent drew a sharp breath. She didn’t want to disappoint Rhaenyra nor wanted to spend her night in the boredom of her silent chambers, where Alicent would still be thinking of her. Rhaenyra is everywhere, her presence strong even in the smallest of details, such as the ring, half of a pair, Alicent faithfully wears every day – and she knows so does Rhaenyra. Flowers growing uninvited all over and within an old stone; claiming what already belonged to them.

I should put an end to this, Alicent thought to herself. That’s what one does when a situation threatens to develop into a foreseen incorrigible mistake. This can never be. They were merely borrowing time, stealing moments from a future where night escapades would no longer have a place in their routine.

However, the thought of what her father would say nudged her.

The lack of immediate response caused Rhaenyra to notice that Alice wanted to go but was far too concerned about the consequences. Her fingers tightened the grip around the stolen bottle of wine.

“What would he do if he found us out?” Alicent asked, eyes slightly widened. She could hear her own heartbeat; the silence of the tunnel was starting to suffocate her. Alicent began picking the skin around her nails, only stopping when a gentle hand was placed atop hers.

“Are you afraid my father will burn the Red Keep to the ground?” Rhaenyra playfully whispered, Alicent couldn’t see much but felt Rhaenyra shaking her head.

“It’s not the King that troubles me,” she looked over her shoulder, the door that would lead her into the walls of the Red Keep couldn’t be far. “If my father-”

The house burned to the ground would be mine¸ she thought. Ofttimes to stray far from her father’s reach seemed like a flicker of light in the darkest of nights, if the flames could consume a crumbling relationship and if the winds could take the ashes away from her sight, she might worry less, she might allow the brittle relationship to crumble. But Otto would forever be her father, she cannot escape her blood, nor she would be able to find shelter from the consequences of this.

“He won’t catch wind of this,” Rhaenyra promised, finding that it was hard not to hold Alicent’s hand when she was so close. “It’s just us.”

Rhaenyra knew Alicent couldn’t see her and yet she smiled. “No one will find out. Remember, with me, you’re safe.”

Alicent knew those words quite well and narrowed her eyes. “I am not going to ride Syrax with you,” she murmured. The Hightower lady hadn’t realized that, whilst talking to her, Rhaenyra was guiding her towards the exit. A little thrum of laughter escaped Rhaenyra’s lips.

“Very well,” she obliged with a nod. “We’ll only eat cake.”

Alicent felt a smile tugging her lips, it was hard not to smile when Rhaenyra was near. The princess mirrored both action and sentiment. She could hardly recall how she used to fill her days before Alicent arrived at court but is completely certain that they can’t be that interesting, otherwise, she would recall them.

Under the crescent moon and the reddish leaves of the weirwood, they spent the rest of the night. Once more stealing moments, borrowing time. Their hands fit perfectly, both entangled in feelings they couldn’t quite comprehend and there was no need to. They knew enough of the yearning to be near, to belong, and to add just a little bit more of sand in the hourglass.

#rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #house targaryen #house hightower #rhaenicent #fanfic #my fic #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #rhaenicent fanfic #rhaenyra x alicent #ivy #sapphic #ms evermore #↤ filter tag #evermore lyrics #evermore #alicent x rhaenyra #rhaenicent fanfiction #my writing

[holly-fixation]

Fallen Silver

Summary: Sephiroth is MIA. Second Class Rhapsodos and Third Class Hewley are tasked with locating and finding him. The public does not know of this disappearance. No one was prepared for the truth. 

Further inspired by my ask to @altocat. 

Please enjoy.

…

The plains of Wutai raged with the never ending war against the Shinra Electric Power Company and their newest military program: SOLDIER. Even the most recent entries of this program decimated enemy forces under the simplest command. Of course the strongest of these SOLDIERS was nicknamed The Demon of Wutai: Sephiroth. Most enlistees joined to follow in his footsteps and become SOLDIER First Class for fame, strength, or riches. 

Sephiroth, in reality, was more ‘down to The Planet’ than anyone outside Wutai knew. His closest friends, comrades he made on the battlefield, knew him as the awkward and sheltered super soldier he truly was. The public admired his strength, but his friends cared for his innocence. Even their first few interactions revealed the truth, but more than one audience with the Silver Soldier was incredibly rare for normal recruits. It took time for him to open up. He liked pasta. He liked reading. His cat-like pupils widened to saucers when he spoke about the stars. He was… normal. A little weird but yes, normal. An awkward, normal guy. Genesis and Angeal were teaching him how to fit in simply by being his friends. Everything was going well for so long, until…

Shinra locked down any rumor of Sephiroth’s disappearance through their troops. Even the simple thought of losing their trump card lowered morale at this critical time. No one knew exactly what happened. One average battle in the forest, one average day and tactic for success, Sephiroth running ahead as always to take down or distract any large threats.

An average, normal battle. But Sephiroth didn’t return. 

“It’s been a month,” Genesis stated as he paced in their tent.

“We’ll find him,” Angeal countered simply as he continued cooking their meal.

“Something’s wrong. There’s no ransom. There’s no negotiation.”

“You don’t know that-”

“Yes I do.” It was a snippy and childish response but not at all inaccurate. Genesis was under strict order to keep this any and all news within the tent. No one could know of Sephiroth’s situation until all was well. “They’re doing something to him. This isn’t normal interrogations, I can just feel it.”

“They might be waiting until morale’s shaky. It’s the perfect time to strike.” Angeal kept his gaze on the meal, forcing himself to stay calm and collected for his friend’s sake. “You’ve been captured before. You know what they do.”

“I know exactly what they do, and This. Isn’t. It.” His truth cut like a dagger, and silence claimed the tent. 

“...we will find him.” That was the only promise Angeal could make. His condition? That was another story. “We will, Genesis. We’ll find him…”

* * * 

It took three months to take down the correct fortress. Every troop fought savagely, desperately on both sides. The rivers of blood were nothing new. The rain put their foreign forces at a heavy disadvantage but they eventually broke through. While most troops and squads celebrated this great victory, the Second and Third Classes searched high and low through every centimeter of the fortress. 

Their efforts paid off. Finally months of effort bore fruit. They located a hidden trap door to an ornate staircase, patterns of gold and silver lining the walls deeper and deeper as they entered. At the bottom, stone and marble statues of the Wutaian water god constricted the room. The scales surrounded them like a victorious snake. Altars, fountains, torches, candles, shackles, weapons that could never be useful in battle with carvings dry with crimson, all kinds of ritualistic objects lined the edges and led the SOLDIERs to their desire. 

Sephiroth.

It was Sephiroth.

They couldn’t stop themselves from running to his side, but they rapidly searched for any uninjured place to begin. 

Sephiroth wasn’t dead, but that was the only detail that didn’t claw at their hearts. His uniform was long torn from him, replaced with barely concealing garb of snakeskin and brown leather straps. Each open section of ghostly white skin exposed deep blue scars and the tiniest of bleeding cuts. Injuries that small should heal in seconds to the average SOLDIER. Sephiroth’s body would heal too fast to process the injury at all, yet he bled and he couldn’t stand. Gold shackles at his wrists were the only thing keeping him upright. His bare feet slumped against the ground. 

How was he still bleeding?

Why was he still bleeding?

“Sephiroth!” Genesis was the first to speak as they searched for any opening that wouldn’t cause more harm. But there wasn’t any.

“Sephiroth, can you hear us?” Angeal questioned before giving up his search and lifting the Silver Soldier. 

They heard his reflexive, pained gasp from his weight being moved from the chains, his lungs both free from strain but crushed in adjustment. 

Genesis cut the chains with his red rapier and immediately casted cures and healing spells. But they did nothing. Not the tiniest cut responded to the magic or resealed. 

Though Sephiroth's face was only marred by two perfectly symmetrical lacerations down his cheeks, his sunken eyes and dried lips claimed their attention. Wutai left him down here to die of starvation and dehydration along with whatever rites they conducted. 

His friends watched his lids flutter as they adjusted his body onto both of their shoulders for support. 

“ah-ah…!” A pathetic moan left his lips as he winced and tried to force his body to respond, the slightest tensing and moving of muscles. 

“Don't move. We got you. Just breathe, Sephiroth. You're safe,” Angeal reassured. 

“What did they do to you…?” Genesis mumbled aloud the thoughts plaguing his mind. “What did they do to you…?”

“G-Genesis…?” His voice was so broken, so shattered, stuttering and struggling through his raw throat. “A-Angeal…?”

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs, giving him the moment he silently requested. Sephiroth focused his strength and carefully pried his eyes open. “I-I…”

Genesis unconsciously grabbed his face and forced the Silver Soldier's eyes to his. The mako in them had vanished, drained, as if he never stepped foot in a tank or opened his arm for an injection. But his pupils… they were small black circles, struggling against the light. 

Circles. Not needles. Human. Not snake-like. Not cat-like. Not Sephiroth. The eyes were crystal blue. Wrong. Utterly wrong. They fell closed again, but Genesis saw it clear as day. 

“Genesis, let's move.”

Finally the redhead got control of himself and both SOLDIERs lifted the MIA Demon of Wutai out of the chamber. Only in the cloudy light of the moon did they spot another horrifying change. The silver mane the entire planet recognized did not reflect light as it once could. The defining difference between silver and gray had fallen. 

Sephiroth looked too human. Dangerously human. 

Genesis flung off his red coat and covered Sephiroth in it for both protection and covertness. They couldn't let anyone see him like this. They snuck Sephiroth into their tent and made sure no one caught a glimpse. Once he was set down, Angeal stood back up. 

“I'll get communication to send a message about 'SMIA'. Just get him comfortable and get him clean.”

“Angeal-”

“don't go…” The broken baritone pleaded. It was so dramatically different from what they knew, they assumed he was in a trance or a dream or an adrenaline induced hallucination.

Genesis forced his initial reaction back down and overrode his friend. “Get back here. ASAP.”

“please…”

The begging froze the Second but forced the Third through the opening faster. 

“I swear on all the gods I will destroy them all for this,” He muttered as he grabbed the hidden medical kit and pulled out all kinds of wraps and disinfectants and cleaning products. He only stopped when a hand wrapped around his wrist. 

“Genesis…” Sephiroth was looking away. “stay close… please stay close…”

Without thinking, he shifted all materials closer and began cleaning the lacerations of his cheeks first. “I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.”

“...I… don't know what they did…” He struggled to speak. “but I can't… heal…”

Genesis grit his teeth against the truth leaving his friend's mouth. Sephiroth clearly didn’t know it was much more than his healing factor. “We're taking you to Midgar. They'll be able to do something. They definitely know a lot more than me.”

“don't leave…” Another childish plea, trying to ensnare the wrist in his weakened state. “I'm so alone…”

Now the Second really did stop in his tracks, clutching the silver soldier's chin to make him repeat. There was something in his voice that was just wrong. This wasn't the basic shock from torture; this was something emotional as well. 

But Sephiroth was impossible to break. Interrogations with him even in the rare instances of capture were useless. He was silent, not giving up any information or even a cry of pain. When he returned, he kept his silence as a defense while he healed until he returned to his normal self. 

So who was this? Who or what was speaking through Sephiroth?

“please don't go…”

What did they do to him!?

“I'm not going anywhere.”

Any time the Second’s touch left the captured man, the First pleaded without fail. Even if it was only the moments between wringing out the bloody towel used to clean his skin, he spoke. He needed touch and no one knew why. Presence alone wasn't enough. 

Genesis couldn't help but think of the moments they've spent together as friends. Sephiroth was incredibly avoidant of any and all contact. He forced himself not to think about the reason this changed as Angeal returned and received the same treatment. They were both trapped in his grip or by his voice. Sephiroth hated this desperation in him but the very same desperation overpowered his thoughts. 

“don't go… please don’t go…”

* * * 

The healthy soldiers were initially commanded to stay on the front lines, progressing through Wutai until new orders said otherwise, but their presence was the only thing keeping Sephiroth calm. The Silver Soldier nearly screamed when medical personnel tried to take him alone. His friend stayed with him on the helicopter to Midgar to keep him quiet. Shinra still did not want anyone knowing of his condition. Screaming in an ambulance cot would not help that goal. They didn't leave his side in Medical. They even forced their way into the Science Department, and for a short time, the doctor allowed them to stay. Anesthesia wasn't working. No chemical knocked him out long enough for Angeal and Genesis to leave his side before he reacted, not like they wanted to. The staff surely didn't want them in the way though. 

“Take them out…” Sephiroth tried to explain as he fumbled through his torture stained memories. “They have to be the source…”

“What are?” Genesis questioned immediately. He would fix anything without question. 

“The blue sheets… the slabs… They're in…-” He winced sharply, and Genesis instantly grabbed the hand on his arm. 

“I got you.”

“They're in here…” His arms shook as he pointed to the blue scars at his side. 

“Try not to move so much,” Angeal suggested calmly, trying to keep the hushed tones of the lab around them. 

Sephiroth just turned to his dark haired friend with his horribly human eyes. “Have they tried to already…?”

He nodded. “They discussed removal in the medical wing, but they said something more is going on. They didn’t elaborate.”

They went quiet after that, Angeal scanning the walls to give Sephiroth some privacy, but Genesis refused to move his eyes from the horribly human form.

The very moment Sephiroth was okay, Genesis would burn Wutai to the ground. 

A moment later, the doors opened and Professor Hojo strided through holding some kind of sealed, opaque container marked with yellow biohazard tape, muttering something about finally getting ‘them’ out of here. Without warning, he placed the box on Sephiroth’s chest, not even acknowledging the two soldiers in the Demon of Wutai’s grip.

Instantly Sephiroth’s persistence collapsed. He curled around the container as a child does with their favorite blanket, all but putting his thumb in his mouth, releasing both of his friends as relief flooded his features. 

“Now that that's taken care of, you can leave.” The scientist wasted absolutely no time kicking the SOLDIERs out. 

Angeal grabbed Genesis before he could throw a punch or say a word. 

“We need to begin the procedure. If you truly care for Sephiroth's well being, leave my laboratory now.”

Genesis really did swing that time and Angeal blocked it, grabbing his fist and guiding him away. 

“Let's go.”

“I really wanna hit him,” his voice was ice.

“So do I. But for Sephiroth's sake, let's go, Genesis.”

That was the only comment that convinced the Second Class to leave, the Third following behind to make sure he didn't break anything. 

* * * 

Pacing. Pacing. Pacing. Pacing. 

“Sit down.”

“No.”

“This isn't helping, Genesis.”

“Nothing's helping.” He crossed his arms and his finger tapped anxiously. “He's been in there for seventeen hours and they won't even put us on missions to clear our heads.”

“Because we can't go overkill in Midgar, it's incredibly dangerous.”

“Not in the slums.”

“Knowing you, you'll cause structural damage to the pillar right now.”

“Then don't put me near the pillars.”

Angeal sighed. “I am literally the farthest from assigning you missions.”

“You can put in a good word.”

“I'm a Third.”

“And they trust your judgment more than mine.”

“Genesis.”

On and on they went with their childish worry. Genesis threatened to burn down the building multiple times just to get a glimpse of Sephiroth. Every passing lab technician was only saved by Angeal's level headedness. They panicked with no updates, no knowledge of what was truly happening.

Deep within the lab, the horror of truth was worse than the uncertainty of the unknown. 

The Wutaian Water Defense Ritual was merely a legend, folklore passed from generation to generation as far as Shinra and its Science Department were concerned. ‘Incapacitate any intruder with the strength of Leviathan’. Simply the necessity of Leviathan scales made the rite next to useless. To gain these scales was no easy task, and storing them posed an incredible risk to thievery. 

Apparently, Wutai was smarter than they thought. While Shinra swept through the country, Wutai gathered all resources to take down the Silver Soldier, including items of legend. Every item in Sephiroth’s imprisoning chamber was taken back to Shinra for analysis and all were a major piece in completing their goal. Though no one currently knew how Sephiroth was captured in the first place, this ritual crippled him. Ceremonial spears cut him open long enough for Leviathan scales to be inserted into his ribcage like CDs piercing his lungs. The first five healed over with terrible blue scars. The last two eroded into his bloodstream, tainting his very genetics. Like the ancient belief that tempering swords with the bones of your enemies imbued them with their spirits to make them stronger was truly the result of the bones’ carbon and the iron of the blade creating primitive steel, Wutai clearly had no idea why the scales weakened the Silver Soldier so. 

As the scales degraded from Sephiroth’s incredible healing factor, they blocked critical connections with his Jenova based cells. His hair, eyes, and body becoming as weak as a human’s were direct results of this severed connection. This permanent severance even began killing his enhanced cells. Hojo’s current theory grew from his Reunion theory. Sephiroth no longer felt the subconscious presence of Jenova, or however he felt it, and his body and that desire panicked. The failed results of Project G were the closest connections he had before he was given the container of J-cells.

After removing most of the scales, the lab hooked Sephiroth up to a type of transfusion machine. This slowly and painfully restored the mako and Jenova cells Sephiroth had lost in the ritual, but too fast or too slow of a procedure was critical to correct. 

He was fragile. Human. Hojo hated seeing him like this.

Unbeknownst to the friends of the Demon of Wutai, Hojo remained at Sephiroth’s heavily medicated side. With the container, medicine and chemicals finally took their desired effects. Sephiroth wasn’t mentally present, but he refused to release the container of cells. The doctor watched achingly as the molasses of silver claimed his hair once again. Then his weakened health returned to that of a new SOLDIER. Lastly his eyes adjusted to their enhanced needles, and he let go of the container. Hojo took the box and left before Sephiroth could open his eyes.

Twenty two hours of procedure passed, and Sephiroth was finally back to himself.

Angeal and Genesis ran to his side the moment they were allowed entry. They stayed with their silver haired, cat eyed friend for the entire month it took to regain his strength. Genesis couldn’t describe the joy he felt from Sephiroth’s victory over him in the training room. 

He liked pasta. He liked reading. His eyes were saucers when he spoke about the stars.

His friend was finally back. He didn’t care about the legend or his second place reputation. His friend was back to normal. That’s all that mattered. 

.

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.

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Thanks for reading!

To be continued...

Chapter List

#sephiroth #angeal hewley #ff7 angeal #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 genesis #hojo #ff7 hojo #wutai #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #fallen silver #Fallen Silver #sometimes you just gotta write some angst

[purpleyoonn]

My Prisoner

Summary: You were trying to buy a new notebook for your writings, not expecting to get lost in a forest you didn’t recognize from your map. After passing the same tree multiple times, you stop to rest for the night, only to be captured and taken to a King’s castle for judgement. You weren’t expecting a Fae King to keep you as his...prisoner?

Paring: Fae King Hoseok x Human Writer Reader

Genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, middle ages au, 

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: the mc not being a weak human, mc writes smut because why not, captured mc, talks of magic, king hoseok is possessive and protective, mc gets slapped, some poor rib dislocations, mc tries to stand up for her self, allusions to torture, mc kept as a prisoner, some slight insecurities from the mc, king hoseok is kind of deranged but its okay, 

Masterlist // Navigation

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You are almost certain you are lost.

Like, if the slowly descending sun wasn’t an obvious indicator, you had passed the same tree at least three times. And you only know it was the same tree because it had a specific notch in the trunk that looked like a diamond. You didn’t know how much longer you could go before it got dark, and your horse was beginning to tire.

Deciding it was time to make camp for the night, you steer your horse off the path towards a larger willow tree, the base of the tree large enough for a shelter if the weather becomes unfavorable. Letting your horse look for food, you settle at the base, your gab in hand as you pull out your map and try to make out a different path you could take.

You were heading towards a village near the south, about a two-days ride from your own village. The market at this specific village was known to have good deals and a healthy amount of foreign goods that would migrate over. You were looking for a notebook, one that was sturdy enough for your writing.

You were a writer, one who created different romance type books for women. You had your own stall at your village’s market where you sold these books. They were advertised as recipe books and sewing books, but all the women in your village knew. You were still in a time where women independence and pleasure was taboo, and if the men in your village knew what you were doing, you would be sol—married off.

You had been a ward of the village after your parents died from a fire that happened when you were a child. You were taken in by the village’s scribe, who wrote down every birth, death and marriage as well as other historical events within your small community. This is where your love of writing blossomed and grew into what it is now: a passion.

You were getting ready to scrawl down a new path within your notebook when you heard your horse whine, somewhere past the line of trees to your right. You stood up, sword drawn when you were pushed down. Your head was in the dirt, a hand pressed to your skull as your hands were bind behind your back and your things confiscated.

“Hey! What is the meaning of this?” You ask the men, you counted three, as you were pulled up. By your knowledge, you hadn’t trespassed onto anyone’s property, nor did you manage to lose yourself in someone else’s kingdom; you had made sure you didn’t enter any territory that you weren’t familiar with.

“You are under arrest for trespassing on King Hoseok’s land without proper papers. We are taking you to the castle where you will be tried.” Your eyes widened in shock. You hadn’t even heard of this man nor his kingdom before. As far as you knew, you were passing through King Min’s territory. How in the world did you stray so far from the path marked on your map?

The two men on either side of you, holding onto your elbows, began to carry/drag you forward, passed the line of trees and deeper into the forest. It was as if you passed through one of the fairy tale books your mother used to tell you when you were a child, ones filled with scary dragons and mighty knights.  

“Hold on a minute. I’ve never heard of a King Hoseok! I was passing through King Min’s territory only minutes before we stopped!” You tried to plead with the guards, their attire telling you they worked for the royal family, but their emblem made no sense. It was a sweet looking flower, a small smiley face in the middle.

The men ignored you, only tugging you further into the forest. You cursed under your breath, trying to release yourself from their grasp. You received a shove in the ribs instead, making you gasp at the pain now radiating from your abdomen.

“What was that for! I have done nothing wrong!” You yell at the man who elbowed you, your glare shooting daggers at the man.

“Just shut up and be quiet.” He only spared you a glance, making you stick your tongue out at him. As you turned your head it seemed like a veil was pulled over it. Suddenly you weren’t staring at a never-ending forest, you were looking at a large castle, two large towers almost blocking your view of the sky.

It made no sense, you were just staring at a forest of green, but now was what seemed like mere meters away from the entrance to the castle.

“How…?” You tried to question, but were silenced by a slap to your cheek, your head turning from the force. You could feel your cheek burn, the skin surely hot to the touch. Looking to the guard who told you to shut up before, you kicked him in the back of the knee, knocking him to the ground and making the other guard grab you by the stomach, pulling you into him with a knife to your neck.

“How dare you!” The guard was about to hit you again when someone cleared their throat behind your group. Everyone froze, the man clearing his throat again. You could see the anger on the guard’s face at being interrupted, his anger shown by his clenched fists as he moved them to his side before turning to face the newcomer.

“May I remind you that all trespassers are to go before the King before any punishment is dealt?” The newcomer speaks, an aura of authority surrounding him as he looks down on the guard who hit you. It has you biting back a smirk as you watch the guard being berated for his actions.

“No Sir.”

“Then why does she have a handprint on her cheek, and a dislocated rib?” Dislocated rib? Is that what that pain is? You weren’t entirely sure how the man knew about your rib, or that it was dislocated, but you didn’t argue.

“Never mind. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” The newcomer moves towards you, pushing the guards out of the way before helping you to your feet, the previous guard having dropped you to the ground when he pulled back.  Once back on your feet, he brings you to the doors of the castle, the two doormen didn’t hesitate to let you in, bowing slightly to the man who pulled you along.

“I am the Marshal of King Hoseok’s court. I am to take you before him so he can decide if you are to remain prisoner here, or if you are to be let go.” The man spoke in a hushed tone, raspy in his age as he moved. You only nodded, not wanting to push his buttons.

You had witnessed a Marshal before, and only before he beheaded a thief who tried to steal from him in front of the village you were visiting. You knew how much power the man held compared to you. You knew nothing of this kingdom or its people, so you knew your safest bet was to remain quiet.

You walked for a couple of minutes until you entered a grand room, glass ceilings and what seemed like walls made of trees. You couldn’t help but gasp at the beauty of the room, wondering how architecture like this was unseen and unheard of where you grew up.

“Marshal Kim! How nice to see you so soon again! What do you have there?” Your head turned to the front of the room, a man with sharp features sitting upon the throne. He wore a flower crown that seemed almost as elegant and regal as the man himself.

King Hoseok watched on as you stared at him, your own features catching him off guard. You were the most beautiful creature he has ever seen, and he was the King of the Forest. A Fae in his own right. He recognized instantly your status as a human and couldn’t help but wonder how a human made it into his territory. The only way a human could enter were if they were part supernatural themselves, or if they were a mate to someone within the forest.

Given his feelings upon seeing you, he figured the latter.

He narrowed his gaze on you, looking for any sign of discomfort or pain as he noticed your hands bound behind your back. He could see you favoring your right side, and almost growled at the handprint covering your left cheek. He could feel the vines growing behind him and took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself from killing someone. He didn’t want to scare you off before he even got the chance to have you.

His eyes latched onto his Marshal’s hand on your elbow, making his eyes flash green before he was sitting up straight in his seat. “Let go of her before you lose your hands, Marshal Kim.” You felt the quick removal of the Marshal’s grasp, his body moving a foot away from yours as he flinches at the King’s tone.

You were still looking forward, watching the King as he looked at you, his body standing up from his throne and walking in a slow pace towards you. You stayed frozen, not wanting to underestimate this King. You knew something was off, with everything, but you didn’t want to die from your own foolishness.

“Who touched you like this?” He was closer now, hand inching closer until he held your chin in his grip, tilting your head every which way as if he could sense whose handprint was left behind.

“Knight Ahn, Sir. He and two others found her just inside the borders before nightfall. Said she was trespassing.” Marshal Kim is the one who spoke up, as if you couldn’t talk on your own. Well, you couldn’t really with the way the King was gripping your chin and cheek.

You watched as King Hoseok’s eyes flashed green, a growl like sound rumbling from his chest as he turned his head to look towards his Marshal. You were surprised at the calm aura leaving the man, as you would have already started crying at the look coming from the King in front of you.

“You know where to put him. I would like a few words with my new… prisoner.” With a wave of his hand, the Marshal was leaving, going to bring the man who hit you only the King knows where. You were blindsided by the way the King was acting, not able to guess his next move.

When the doors to the large room closed, you fought yourself to cry right then and there. You knew what the price of trespassing was, and you would have rather not died in the place where you nothing about anything.

“Please, Your Highness, I had no clue I was trespassing on your territory. You see, your territory is not on the map I have, and I was merely trying to pass through to head south to the large market within Queen Hyolyn’s territory. I mean no harm.” You practically pleaded with the royal, trying to convince him to let you go.

The King only hummed at your words, his eyes looking you over, from top to bottom as his eyes still glowed their unnatural green. It reminded you of one of the fairytales you read as a child, with a monster whose eyes glowed red when they were hungry. You truly hoped that wasn’t the case here.

“My little human…I don’t think you realize the implications of your entry into my land. You see…” Hoseok walks in a circle around you, admiring you from every angle as he tries to explain your place here, with him. “The second you walked onto my land, you became mine.” He stopped as he stood in front of you, his finger moving forward to tilt your head up, your eyes now latching onto his own.

Seeing the confused look on your face, Hoseok moves to explain further.

“You see, my darling little human, this is the Forbidden Forest.” Your eyes grow wide at the mention of the forest you were always warned against entering. You didn’t know how you managed to stray so far from your marked path.

“Only those with supernatural blood in their veins, or mates of those within can enter through the barrier. I wonder which category you fall under, my dear.” You can feel the sweat beginning to fall from your brow as he moves closer, his lips now only centimeters away from your own.

“Seeing as you are now mine, I think it would be best of you were taken to my chambers.” He abruptly turned from you, moving back towards his throne as the doors opened again, this time two women moving forward and bowing before the King. “Take my darling human to my chambers. But,” He growled out the last word, turning to look the two women in the eyes as he did, “do not touch her. Only I can have that privilege.”

It was as if time stilled for you, your eyes caught on the King as the two women ushered you out of the room and up a couple flights of stairs. You were brought to a large door that was the only one in the long hallway. It opened into a huge room, one that had the King’s bed up a couple of stairs and on a platform about a foot above the rest of the room.

There were plants everywhere, and it reminded you of a cozy common room with different chairs and a couch surrounding a small table. A bay window stood opposite the door and overlooked the Forbidden Forest. It was absolutely beautiful and had you not wanting to leave.  

Once the women left, you could hear the door being locked behind you.

You didn’t know what to do. You were only supposed to be gone for no less than a week, and now you were trapped here. You had no clue why the King wanted to keep you, despite his explanation. There was no way you were supernatural, apart of the stories you read as a child, nor were you a mate to anyone, especially the King. You were not worthy of the title or position.

The King was way to handsome to be paired with the likes of you, you thought, brushing your hand through your hair as your nerves got the best of you. You could feel your frustrations growing until you had tears building in your eyes. You were scared and worried about what this meant for you.

You sat down on the bed, expecting a soft mattress and blankets only to sit on something hard. You turn around, standing up a little only to see a couple of notebooks and a set of pens. The notebooks looked as though they cost a fortune, more gold coins than you had in your possession. Leather covers in different colors you were not familiar with. You were sure they were not here when you looked over the room before.

Picking up one of the notebooks, you looked over it, opening it up to see a small note inscribed onto the inside cover.

My darling Human,

I heard you were a writer.

How in the world did he know that? It’s not like you were able to speak more that trying to garner your freedom. So how did he know that you were going to the market in search of quality notebooks. Despite the means with which you were given the notebooks, you held them to your chest, not letting them go even as you fell asleep in the hours that passed since your capture.

It had to have been past midnight when the King eventually returned to his chambers only to find you laying on top of the covers, notebooks he had brought to you clutched tightly to your chest. Your face was calm, sleep capturing your silhouette perfectly in his eyes.

He couldn’t help but to thank his witches for bringing you to him, causing your horse to forge on the path he desired. He had done enough waiting for you to come on your own, and had to do something to have you by his side.

It looked like his prisoner would be his wife soon.

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