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dmitriene · 4 months

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𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗢𝗡 𝗖𝗨𝗗𝗗𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘣𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘛𝘖𝘖𝘛𝘏 𝘙𝘖𝘛𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘛, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘯𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘺, 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘪 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴

no matter how strange it may be, the place where you most often spent time with leon was the sofa in your living room of the apartment, the point was probably that it was very close to the entrance, and this was comfort — all that was required of you was take off your shoes and outerwear before collapsing in a heap of limp limbs onto the soft poufs.

unfortunate, in its concept, furniture survived everything — you slept on it in an warm embrace after a hard day, kissed and hugged while watching a movie, fucked when you didn’t have enough strength to get to the bedroom and your body burned with an ardent desire to cling to, lick, touch here and now, and once you even pulled him away from another bottle of tart alcohol, begging, asking him to stop.

your relationship has survived more than one raging wave, but the walls of the apartment and some furniture store and remember everything — with their unevenness, scratches, stains that stuck into the surface, absolutely all the ups and downs, but the only thing she has never seen is you and leon separately, you always together.

today was kind of hard, you had to go grocery shopping with a fairly large list and stop at a couple more places along the way, naturally, be that as it may — but being away from home almost the whole day was quite exhausting, as was carrying bags, even if they spent most of their time in the trunk of the car, waiting for you to finally return home only to be dismantled.

and you finally get there, home, your shoes quickly fly off your feet and past the shelves before you both move on and start putting away your purchases, groceries in the kitchen, little things like hygiene in the bathroom and in the closet there, you no longer have the strength to cook food or to go to the shower — you both wearily collapse on the familiar sofa and laugh in unison when your bodies become tangled and leon wearily hits his forehead against your chest, purring something about — «just.. five minutes, sweetheart, and i'll move»

and, naturally, he didn’t move, on the contrary, he only pressed harder, making you giggle quietly and slightly change your position so that both of you were comfortable, running through the tangled dark strands with your fingers and to the back of his neck, where nails begin to scratch his flesh and send a pleasant shiver down his vertebrae, and he responds in the same tactile manner, running his palms along the curve of your waist, pressing his nose into the chest and to the open area of the collarbone and neck, kissing wetly.

— «leon.. not, don't even try, we didn't even took a shower» you are in a hurry to pronounce on the distillation, frowning your eyebrows and provoking wrinkles on your skin, when leon raises his head in response and looks with that same look that is completely difficult and even impossible to refuse, baby blue eyes rush into yours with puppy tenderness, and you already know that you will fall under his ministrations, as he saying, practically whining — «uhh, come on darling, a quick one?.. please»

is it possible from this point to call leon a lover of quick sex?

definitely yes, and with him it can happen absolutely anywhere, at any time and incredibly slowly, viscous sweet kisses and sticky touches on the body following his movements of his hips, and you never denied him his desire, you didn’t even think, because what can be better than being pressed by his body into some surface while hoarse moans blow hot breath on your ears, following endless chants — «thankyouthankyou sweetheart, thank y — ffuckghm»

so you find yourself pressed with your back to the soft sofa and its pillows, which are carefully placed under your head, your legs are spread and raised to the width of his shoulders, fluttering somewhere above your head when he presses his whole body into you, holding them and pushing into your sopping, spasming cunt rapidly, his balls hit the curve of your ass, and his pubic rubs perfectly against your throbbing clit, allowing him not only to drive into all your spongy spots, but also stimulate your clit, and that's all you need to cause fireworks and a pleasant tremors in your body, covering his long cock with your slick essence.

leon was in seventh heaven from the feeling of you next to him, under his body and how tight and pleasant your pussy clenched around him, slick walls sucking his long cock so deliciously, letting him pump in and out on different paces just for him to slide back in your tight heat that envelope him so good, his rentheless thrusts making you just mewl and tilt your head till your neck is hurting, while leon’s warm and slightly moist lips leave a scattering of burning kisses on your skin, nuzzling with his nose under the area of your chin only from the pleasure of being close and listening to the hail of your moans and euphoric sobs, cooing in a warm baritone — «taking it like a good girl, my pretty baby, jus' like that, suck me in your beautiful pussy»

leon's tongue always unties once he finds himself buried deep inside you, the words are still just as tender, but more lustful and burn stronger, causing the coil in the lower abdomen to tingle tightly following the wave of his purring, praising words, he expresses his adoration for you, for your cunt, to your body — kissing each area and marking it with scarlet buds of hickeys at the same time, thrusting into you at the same unrelenting pace, letting his short dark pubic hair become wet from the amount of your slick as you began to squeeze him tighter, no longer ucnlenching, spasming around his shaft rapidly and mewling out almost in a broken sob — «i'm close, lee.. mmn! leon, so close, please, go on!»

your word is his law, and his movements do not slow down for a second, he continues to cover your body with viscous kisses while your head rolls back like your eyes, your bodies simultaneously begin to sweat and you no longer feel your legs, suspended in the air while his precise thrusts continue to make his hips meet your ass, and his throbbing cock with your tight but warm and trembling walls, luring him deeper, mushy head that dribbles endlessly scratch and bump against your cervix, making you trash suddenly as he coo at your soft sobs and moans, seeing that you can't move at all — «shh, i got you, gonna feel so good, sweetheart, almost there, yeah? be good for me»

all you can do is nod, choking on your own desperate moans and clinging to his bicep with your nails, leaving a scarlet painting behind you and pressing into his shoulder while he picks up the pace, non stop slaps echo throughout the living room as he hits your spongy spots, rubbing along your gummy walls and letting your pussy slobber all over his cock and pubic hair, he teases your throbbing clit with each thrust and pump, fucking into you with numbing force and making you spasm and clamp, mewling out deeply as he grunts — «cummm, cumming, leon, i'm cummiing, mmmh!»

a deep growl slips from the shiny lips when he feels your walls clinging and tightening around his cock with an attempt to milk him, and the feeling itself triggers his own orgasm, which hits him after yours, allowing the tight coil in the very bottom of your belly to snap, clear fluids of yours cum and slick coating his shaft as he pumps more slowly, his hips moving smoothly with each movement that buries his cum in your quivering cunt, ropes of hot sticky seed coating your insides and making you go limp, accepting all he can let you have, while he growls and his abdominal muscles clench, his nose nuzzles into your sweaty, covered with saliva and scarlet buds neck, releasing a trembling sigh, either swearing or praise, but his hot breath caresses your skin and gives you goosebumps when he purrs — «shit.. fuck, it was good, darling»

you stay in this position for some time, enough for your body to completely cease to be felt, and your eyelids become heavy with fluttering eyelashes, but then leon finally rises for a fraction of minutes with a slight sigh, carefully moving away from you on his knees and slowly lowering your legs from his broad shoulders, carefully, knowing that they could go numb, so he strokes them all those couple of seconds that he lowers them, pressing his lips to the soft skin and tickling it with his light stubble, before finally allowing his cock to ease out of your warm, loose cunt, all the length of his cock shines in the mix of your shared fluids, coating him all the way to his balls as some remnants of his cum leaking out of you, and no matter how tired you and fucked out, you feel it.

stickiness and the feeling that something is leaving you causes a short snort from your lips, when you barely raise your body on your elbows, and leon immediately hold you up behind your back, sitting you flat on the sofa and pressing you to him for greater comfort, the floor is littered with your scattered clothes, the air contains the tart aroma of sweat and sex, and when your eyes meet and his blue ones look into yours extremely tenderly, definitely contentedly, you can’t help but smile, but still mutter a little sternly, earning a chesty chuckle in response — «now we'll have to take a shower, lee»

his chuckle is followed by a nod, and strong arms immediately wrap around your legs to lift you without unnecessary discomfort, without even sighing as he lifts both his and your weight, holding you to his chest with honed care and such passionate affection in his eyes that sometimes you don’t understand how it could arise in him, but then his nose nuzzles the top of your head and leaves a tiny kiss on it, and his steps slowly lead the two of you towards the bathroom while he purrs gently — «of course, anything you want and crave, my darling»

these are enough words for you to be mildly embarrassed, as if you had just recently started dating him, but all his daily tender words always cause a slight play of butterflies in your stomach, just like the first time, so you relax and nuzzle him into his chest, while he nuzzles in your temple with his nose and another tender kiss in response, seems that it's you who are responsible for the ariseness of this tenderness in him.

#.𐙚july's writings #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon smut #leon scott kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy comfort #leon scott kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy drabble #domestic leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #older leon kennedy

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obae-me · 4 months

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A Winter Weekend- FT. The Dateables

Happy holidays everyone! And happy new year! Thank you for waiting for this late little post. I'm feeling much better, and technically I finished this before it hit midnight my time, so it counts! Stay warm and stay healthy this new year! (Also I didn't comb through this as thoroughly as I usually do, so sorry for any mistakes!)

“I thought you said this was a little winter cabin.” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head up and down as you observed the building.

Diavolo pursed his lips, confused at your question. “It is,” he stated while grinning, puffing out his chest a little as he took a deep breath in of the crisp winter air. He seemed to be thriving being let loose from the castle and RAD. This peace was well deserved. The prince had been holed up in his office doing paperwork for probably three days straight just to be able to have a little bit of a vacation. It had gotten to the point where even Lucifer and Barbatos were almost concerned with the amount of work he was doing. A sight to behold indeed.

The snow was falling softly today, just enough to engulf the world in that perfect veil of white. The ground was pillowy beneath your feet, the visible breath billowing from your lips swirling into the sky, disturbing the flakes around you and making them dance down to the earth. A few others were taking in the view as well as they trudged through the snow to stand beside you.

A very amused hum was heard as Solomon strutted up to your side, adjusting the strap of a large duffel bag across his shoulders. A knowing side glance was cast at you. “And what a grand ‘little cabin’ it is.”

Before you sat a pristine and modern looking wooden chalet, clean stone pathing working it’s way up to the small steps leading up to the door. Lights were dripping from every frame and railing, twinkling in a magical way. It was about three stories high, with an L shaped pool near the side, properly positioned so you could look out over the mountain. Steam rolled up from the surface of the water. Seemed it was fully heated.

Rich people… If this was a homely winter cabin, you were curious to see what the prince might consider a shed.

A gloved hand gingerly brushed some snowflakes from off your head, trailing down your hair before taking your luggage from you. Barbatos walked in front of all the guests, gesturing for you all to follow. “If you’ll come with me, everything has been prepared for you all.”

You, Solomon, Simeon, and Diavolo all headed inside behind the butler. A pleasant warmth washed over you all as you took refuge from the cold. The scent of freshly baked goods and spices filled the air as a tingling sensation ran through the back of your head. Garlands, wreathes, LEDS, candles, anything one might imagine as winter decor coated the spaces, but not enough to make it feel cluttered. The building simply felt…full, in the best of ways. Comfort. Nostalgia. Somehow these demons managed to harness the essence of the holidays.

Diavolo was positively beside himself with joy. Freed from the shackles of responsibility, surrounded by what some down here might consider a more human aesthetic, he beamed brightener than the lights around him. “It’s been centuries since I’ve been up here. It feels wonderful to have a change of pace for a while, wouldn’t you all agree?”

“I can’t imagine a more magical place to spend the winter.” Simeon’s eyes were shining, shutting the door behind you all as he came up to you and took your coat.

“Let me handle the courtesy.” Barbatos took two steps closer, his hand wrapping around the other sleeve of your outerwear.

The angel grinned with a little chuckle. “I don’t mind. Besides, Diavolo already told you, this is your vacation too. Relax a little.” They both stared at each other with pleasant smiles, neither of them backing away, both of them making you feel like quite the unwrapped gift as they nearly tore you out of your coat.

When you had heard of this idea, you had been glad to be invited along. Desperate even. It wasn’t everyday you had the opportunity to go somewhere without the brothers. And while you adored them dearly, you knew it would be nice to have a switch in scenery. To feel like you could have a breath on your own at least. Not have to worry about breaking up any fights…Besides, you would all be back before the official holiday to spend time with everyone, so you didn’t feel like you were leaving them behind. But… perhaps you had been too overzealous in imagining you’d get complete peace… You were ten minutes in now and already were having two otherworldly beings hissing over your coat. To the public eye, it didn’t seem like they were having a confrontation, but you knew these men well enough to know they were sparring and sparking behind the polite words. They were no better than the brothers… And these were considered the calmer of the bunch… and now here they were. Bickering over your attention like spoiled fanboys.

Despite nearly being pulled in half, you thanked both of them and tapped the snow off your shoes, taking off the boots and setting them in the walkway before heading into the living space. An enormous U-shaped couch was settled in front of a cozy modern fireplace, fully controllable with a few buttons, a flat-screen television mounted on the wall just above it. A rounded wooden chandelier was hung from wooden rafters, the lights coming from fake candles lined along the rim. One of the side walls was covered in windows, allowing a beautiful view of the snow-covered mountainside. You could just imagine coming down in the morning, a hot beverage in hand while you curled up in the corner of the couch… Getting sucked into hell was perhaps one of the better things to happen to you.

While you were lost in thought, a set of arms came up from behind you and wrapped around your waist. You chuckled, leaning into the warm body as their chin rested on your head.

Diavolo sighed heavily, nearly slumping on you with his full body, just keeping enough of his own weight on his feet to keep from crushing you entirely. He was exhausted. He needed this time away more than anyone. You could only hope he would be able to fully enjoy himself without the added pressures of his princedom. “I’m so happy you accepted my invitation,” he muttered.

“Accepting the invite was the easy part.” Leaning back into him, you chuckled to yourself. “Keeping seven people from climbing into my suitcase when my back was turned was the harder task.”

He almost snorted a little at that but kept quiet. It had been difficult not bringing them along, you knew that. But you were glad he was keeping things smaller. Although you still didn’t quite consider this quaint… “You’ll have to tell me everything humans do for the winter holiday.” He gave you a little squeeze before walking up to the windows, staring down at the snow-covered trees. “We could do it all! Sledding, snowball fights, snow…stuff.” It was hard to tell if his lack of knowledge on the topic was due to him being a demon or due to him being a sheltered blue-blood. Probably both. He turned back to you, a curious look on his face. “What’s the difference between a snowman and a snow-angel? Do you have any snow-demons?”

“A snowman is when you roll snow up into different balls and stack them. Then you can decorate them. A snow angel is when you lie down and wave your arms and legs to…” The jumping jacks you were trying to do couldn’t quite translate like you were hoping. With a grin, you grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards the front door. Simeon and Barbatos were still having a deep discussion over the intricacies of coat-taking when you barged back in, taking your coat and boots back and dragging the prince out the door, leaving the two confused. From inside, you could hear Solomon gladly making fun of them both as they were all shut out.

Letting go of Diavolo’s hand, you stepped away from him, testing the deepness and comfort levels of the snow before letting gravity do the rest. Your body hit the ground with a gentle cushioned thud. Shouting your name, the demon panicked, sprinting to your side just as you started moving your arms and legs back and forth, side to side, to make a snow-angel. He sighed first, relieved, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of the fact that the Prince of demons would be so genuinely worried over your wellbeing. Diavolo tilted his head at you as you carefully rolled out of the imprint, staggering backwards. His hand came to your waist to steady you, lightly chuckling as he brushed the snow off the back of your head. “So, this is a snow-angel?”

“Yeah. You got the wings and the dress…robe…thing.”

“I see.” His face was filled with an endearing amusement, taking in the sight genuinely with a nod. “I can envision it. And a snowman?”

Under your instruction, you both rolled up a few snowballs, stacking them on top of one another till a decently sized snowman was made, just about your height. “Then you can dress him up, use branches for hands, let your artistic mind guide you.” You observed the base of your snowman rather proudly.

“And, what about a snow-demon?”

Your face frowned a bit. “We don’t really have snow-demons.”

Instead of being sad about it, the prince just nodded. “Not surprising. Humans consider this time of year to be more holy after all.”

After a moment of thought, you had a little idea. Bending down, you scooped some snow into your hands and worked to make a cone shape in your palms. You set it on the snowman’s head and quickly made another one, doing the same thing. Then you took two steps back, grinning up at Diavolo with a gestured hand. “Ta-Da. A snow-demon.” The only thing you had done was add two lopsided ‘horns’ that looked more like cat-ears, but it caused Diavolo to erupt in joyful howling.

“I guess that means humans and demons are not so different then. I like the thought of that!” His words were warm as he spoke, suddenly moving about in quick steps, rolling up another few balls and creating a newborn snowman right next to the snow-demon. With his finger, he drew in a smiling face. “Happy side by side. Just like it should be.” Diavolo came back up to you, pulling you into a hug, keeping you close to his chest, both of you staring at the snow-beings. His hand came to your face, still nice and warm despite him having worked in the snow with no gloves. Caressing your cheek, he kissed your forehead. Then he used the same finger to trace the outlines of your eyes and lips, creating a smile on your own face. “There we go… I hope you will be just as happy at my side, as they are together.” His head nodded towards the snow-couple.

“Dia… Of course I will be… And don’t worry, I won’t melt away.”

You could feel the playful rumble in his chest. “That’s good… You might freeze though if we’re not careful. Perhaps we should head back inside. We can have a late breakfast to start the day. There is so much I cannot wait to do with you…”

“Forgive me for my behavior earlier,” Barbatos whispered, giving you a small squeeze before turning you around, using the back of his hand to touch the cold and reddened spots of your cheeks. “It is no excuse for being so uncouth, but… it is my secret desire to treat you to a perfect snowy sojourn.”

It never failed to amuse you to see just what the demon considered ‘rude’. You could definitely envision him to be the type to take off his glove and use it to smack someone and consider that a full on brawl. Jokes aside, you could tell he was stressed. There was nothing more unnerving than worrying if you were relaxing efficiently enough. He was quite like Lucifer in that regard, sometimes treating self-care and rest like it was another task to accomplish on their busy lists. His eyes seemed to dart around more than usual, his steps less punctual. He was unraveling, not unwinding, and for all the wrong reasons. You’d known it would be a daunting task to try to keep him from fretting over Diavolo the whole time, but you’d forgotten how much he could fuss over you. What was it Mammon liked to say? You can take Barbatos out of the butler, but you can’t take the butler out of Barbatos? A silly saying that seemed to make no sense at all and yet you understood completely.

“Simeon was partially right, you know.” You let that phrase settle in just long enough to annoy him for a second before explaining yourself. “Diavolo told you to relax too. It was an order as far as I’m aware.” The demon opened his mouth to try to combat your statement, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “I don’t need a royal treatment. I just want to have a good time with you. We can be as casual as we want to be and it will still be amazing.” An idea sparked in your head, a very similar train to the one you’d just had earlier. “Here, let’s start right now.” You took his hand and led him over to the couch. His hands instinctively reached out to tweak the cushions. After his perfectionism was sated, you forcibly nestled him into the corner of the couch. It was rather funny how lanky he looked there for a moment, crossing and uncrossing his legs like he’d never been on a couch before. You snagged a woven throw blanket off a nearby ottoman and threw it onto him. It draped over his head, messing up his hair ever so slightly as he worked to properly fold it over his lap.

Score.

Before he had the chance to even think it- although something in the gleam of his eye suggested he was allowing you to do so- you used your own fingers to fix the few stray strands. The tips of your fingernails brushed against his scalp, and for a moment- the briefest of moments- you almost swore you heard some sort of purr. It was elating getting to do something even as simple as this to someone who hardly ever had a thread out of place much less a hair. He must’ve known you’d do something like this and allowed you to mildly dishevel him on purpose. Ah well. A win was a win.

You heard something of a hum before he spoke. “Alright, now what?”

“Now…” You grinned, finding the remote to the television before sitting by his side. You slid yourself under the cover, curling your legs up, handing him the device. “You pick something to watch and we cuddle in front of the fire while doing something mindless for once. Why don’t you put on that one baking show you like? I can’t wait to hear you grumble about improper measuring cups again.” Schooching even closer to him, you weren’t content till he was fully leaning against the cushions, surrounded on all sides by warmth.

“I do not grumble.” Barbatos looked around himself as if he were worried about being caught like this, but not particularly minding it once he started to get adjusted to it. When he figured you would not dispute his claim, he did what you recommended and flicked the television onto The Great Banished Bake Off. Hopefully he wouldn’t get too riled up over the episodes, although he did look rather cute when he was irritated. Maybe you enjoyed pushing his buttons too much…

Rather than watching the show, you spent most of your time watching him, waiting to catch those specific clues that let you know he was enjoying himself. He would nod at the show here and there, tutting to himself and making off-handed comments about how things should be done differently. In other words, grumbling. Whilst he appeared to be distracted, and committed enough to not move for the next few minutes, you leaned into his shoulder. Then that’s when you felt it. Tiny little movements. Small changes, his body shifting to make it more comfortable to rest against. Eventually, his torso had turned enough to have your head directly against his chest.

His arms supported your body, clasped together by your hip. “You’re not wrong. This kind of activity seems to have its merits.”

“Oh? Good enough for your ‘snowy sojurn’?”

More than hearing it, you felt the deep rise and fall of his chest with a refreshing breath. “Planned or not, grand or casual, anything I do with you is perfect. No second of time is a waste.”

A human-like type of warmth enveloped you just long enough to put you at ease. Then the traitor struck. Two ice-cold hands snaked around the back of your neck, causing every nerve in you to jump. You squealed and shrugged the demon-in-mortal-clothing off of you, hearing that familiar and infuriatingly adorable impish giggle echo behind your head.

“Solomon! You—“

“Careful,” he warned, controlling his laughter enough to speak, his imaginary horns fading away as his collected smile stretched back over his face. He pointed back over his shoulder before curling his hand near the side of his mouth to funnel his whisper towards you. “There’s an angel present.”

“Oo, you’re so gonna get it later,” you muttered, forcing a frown to stay on your face despite how light-hearted your chest felt. “Besides, it’s just Simeon.”

“Hm.” His face went a bit flat. “You’re right. It’s Barbatos you’d need to worry about, unless you want another lecture on,” his words suddenly droned rather mockingly, “‘maintaining dignity in the presence of royalty’.”

“I’ll pass.” As you scoffed, Solomon came close for another embrace, his smile genuinely falling when you pushed him back with a palm to his forehead. Looked like quite the kicked puppy. “And I’ll pass on those frozen fingers of yours.” You moved past the living room and traversed the vacation home to learn its layout, admiring the simple intricacies of the winter lodge, listening to him continue to pad behind you.

He could’ve used magic or any other sort of cards he kept up his sleeve to get you to stop or turn around, but in moments like these he never seemed to. Around you he seemed less like a mythical sorcerer and more just like… Solomon. “Oh come now, you’re not going to punish me for being cold, are you?” He tried to dance around you, leaping forward to block the stairs only for you to walk past and purposefully circle the lower floor again.

“I’m not your personal heater.”

“Is that how you treat your beloved mentor? Leave me to freeze?” Either he’d been spending too much time with the brothers, or aside from his profession as a sorcerer, he’d somehow managed to find the time to master acting, because the voice that pricked up behind you finally made you stop. The guilt was intentional, you knew that, like those infomercials depicting sad animals or children to get you to donate something. Regardless of knowing this, you turned, giving him a sterner look despite treating this thing more like a game rather than a grudge. He smiled once he got to see your face, brushing his hands together and letting you get a better look at them. They were a strange sort of pale, the tips turning indigo. At this stage, they were more than just freezing, they were probably numb. And yet, instead of fixing the problem before it got dangerous, this moron was chasing you around and demanding your attention.

You stepped closer to him and lifted up his hands, holding them in your own, gently massaging his palms and fingers with your fingertips. You addressed him with a sigh so chagrined, you would’ve made Lucifer proud. “Your title is Solomon the Wise. You should have the better sense to wear a magical little thing called gloves.”

He chuckled at you, but you could see the softness form in his face as you traced the lines in his hands and tried to get the blood back into those extremities. “You’re right. I should be used to Devildom winters by now. I must’ve simply forgotten them in my excitement.”

“You’re acting like a child at their first amusement park.” Finally, you allowed the irritated facade to fade, chuckling.

All the sudden, he almost seemed a bit embarrassed, that smirk of his toned down to a curl more innocent. “But it is the first time I’m doing something like this. This is a little bit different than other trips where everyone has come along or this is different than us spending time together in the human world. This is… you and me, somewhere where work doesn’t have to be involved.” His hands warmer than they were before, his fingers found themselves slipping between yours, hands entangled. “I don’t have to just be your mentor or the Wise Human Sorcerer, and you don’t have to be just my apprentice or the famous royally-appointed Devilsitter. Maybe this is more like… a couple’s trip.”

His words nearly sounded pleading, and for the first time since the trip had been announced, you got to see just how much he was internally begging for something like this. Of course he’d had his fun prodding the brothers and riling them up, telling them all how much fun you’d have without them. But aside from his jokes and his teasing, he was so… giddy to be here. So much so that he forgot his gloves and now he was here swinging both your arms back and forth, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. For all that he had lived through and all that he knew…this was nearly a brand new experience for him.

Your heart swelled. Although, you felt you deserved a tease of your own. “You’re rather cute when you’re confused,” you whispered.

He was only caught off guard for a second, hiding his flustered blush by pulling you into his arms. “You are always there to teach me there’s still so much I have yet to experience… And you’re always there to warm up my hands.”

You were swept up in a soft hug that spun you several times around the room, a tune wistfully echoing from the mouth of the angel who was practically chirping. In the end, his small spat with Barbatos- if it could even be called that- wasn’t strong enough to quell the joy inside him. The spirit on high was in high spirits it would seem.

“Isn’t this wonderful?” Simeon asked, stopping his little dance with you around the living room to take in the view from outside the windows. Upon closer inspection, one of those windows seemed to actually be a glass sliding door leading the way to a wrap-around balcony outside. Letting go of you, the angel strutted forward, throwing the door open, apparently unaffected by the cold. At least Diavolo didn’t seem to have to worry about a heating bill here… Simeon stretched like he’d been cramped for a long time, muttering something Celestial under his breath in awe before leaning against the railing.

While Mr. Cold-Shoulders might be able to combat the weather with little more than a pull-over and scarf, you were not the same. No matter how acclimated to the cold you felt you may or may not have been, nothing seemed to hit quite as strongly as Devildom temperatures. Warmth still flooded out from the heat of the cabin, but to keep the rest of you warm, you latched yourself against Simeon’s back, peeking at the world outside from behind his arms.

The angel looked back over his shoulder at you, his eyes wrinkling in compassion. “I’m glad I eventually decided to come out here,” he mentioned. Right, he’d nearly passed up this opportunity, worried for a while about leaving Luke alone with the brothers. For a good portion of time, you’d convinced yourself that he wouldn’t allow himself to go. In the end, he came to the conclusion that it would be good for the little angel to have a little lesson in independence. And if anything, Luke would be the one trying to keep most of the demons responsible, not the other way around.

“I’m glad you came too. You work so hard behind the scenes and take such little credit…”

His hands found yours around him, giving them a reassuring squeeze, telling you in his own way that he didn’t think of it like that. Although, even if he got fulfillment and accomplishment from caring after the others, you knew this would be good for him too. A respite for himself. Let him catch up on the works and hobbies he had been leaving behind lately. Even now, there was a twinkle of inspiration in his eyes, the twitch of a writer’s hand. “Write a little something,” you suggested.

“W-what?” He actually stammered, almost laughing at his own surprise. “Right now?”

“I mean, only if you want to. You just look like you’re itching almost.” You pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his shoulder, feeling him shudder.

“I guess I am feeling inspired…” After his whisper, he took in a deep breath, speaking slow, letting the thoughts come to him naturally. “Ivory clouds in winter skies. The icicles keep twinkling. I search the palette for your eyes. And so I press on thinking. When Father Frost has gone to sleep and his kingdom melts away, will you still be right by my side? Am I where you will stay? Two doves, close perched, adoration in their breast. Two wings, like two words. My Love. You are my nest.”

Some sort of emotion caught in your throat as you listened to his heart pound in his chest. After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat. “Wow. Have you thought of writing a book?” You teased, trying to joke away the sappiness to keep your feelings from getting the better of you.

“Really, you think so?” He turned his body away from the railing, holding you closer to him. “I don’t know. Something like that seems well out of my purview,” Simeon smirked a bit. He swayed you and him gently back and forth once more. “To tell you the truth, my biggest inspiration isn’t the scenery. It’s you.”

Once more, adoration tugged in your chest. Struggling to find your own words to say, you simply smiled and perhaps stammered more than you intended to. “I bet the view doesn’t hurt though.”

He lightly chuckled at that. “No, not at all. I don’t think it would be as breathtaking though if you weren’t here with me.”

“Simeon, please.”

The rocking stopped, a little bit of fear seeping into his face, afraid he’d crossed a line somewhere. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

Quickly, you shook your head, tilting your head back with a small groan. “No, no, it’s not that. I promise. It’s just…I can’t say things as pretty as you can…and your little lines are so nice they make me want to cry.”

He sighed in relief when he realized he’d done no offense. “If you don’t want them, I’ll stop.”

“No! I love them.” You met his eyes and then wrapped your arms around his neck. “I just wish I could express how much I love you as nicely as you can for me.”

“Is that all?… Listen.” The side of his hand cradled your face. “You don’t need to write poetry for me to know you care. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. A simple ‘I love you’ means more to me than you will ever know. It doesn’t need to be wrapped in gifts or hidden amongst colorful prose. If its coming from you, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. Trust me.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me simeon x reader

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star-xxx1 · 9 months

Text

Money is the anthem of success pt. 2

Mob!Natasha x fem! reader

Wanda x reader (only for a bit)

Warnings: Dark! Natahsa, talks of killing, Masterbation, drugging, angst and fluff, kinda dark reader, comfort.

Part 1 Here.

A/n: kinda love this...<3

Natasha sat in front of her large, oak desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and documents that needed her attention. However, her attention was focused on two things you and the grand alliance. The desk was a symbol of her success, made of rich, dark wood, and adorned with beautiful inlays. Light reflected off of the polished surface, casting a warm glow throughout the room. Despite the luxurious surroundings, Natasha felt a sense of unease. A strange feeling loomed over her, constantly teasing the redhead. The confusing feeling had been growing stronger and stronger in Natasha's chest, like a storm brewing inside her. She tried to push it aside, to ignore it, but it refused to be tamed. It was as if some invisible force was pulling her in two directions at once, and she didn't know which path to take. She wanted to believe that she was just being silly, that there was nothing to this sudden rush of emotions. But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more, something deeper and more profound at play. And so, she was left to suffer in silence, torn apart by her own feelings, unable to make sense of the chaos within her.

She glanced at the clock on the wall, knowing that it was slowly ticking away at her dull life, life without you. Staring into the distance of the large empty room, she felt the feeling settling into her chest her emotions were a mess. Her current relationship seemed to have died long ago, her being the muder, slashing the short-term fling into shambles. But she didn't break it off, still holding on to it for reasons she couldn't quite understand. They were now strangers sharing a bed. There was her ex, you, plaguing her mind like a broken record unwillingly on repeat. You were all she could think about, an obsession. You being that one person who had managed to break down all of her walls and make me feel alive in a way that she hadn't felt in years.

Now, the second stressful thought, the grand alliance, an event where many maifia organisations could make alliances, it helps you get around in world of crime. Natasha became consumed with making sure it was decorated to her exact standards, spending every minute of every day on the tedious project. Along with decor, she had to go through catering, entertainment, transportation, safety, logistics, security, marketing, and technology. It took weeks to set everything up. Clicking the send button one last time, everything was scheduled and in place. Pushing her back into the chair, she interlocked her hands behind her head and lifted her muscular legs onto her desk. She let her thoughts engulf her. What was she going to say to you when she saw you next? Well, that's if she did?

She let her mind run away and In to a a field of pure bliss, memories of you, all sort rushing back to her, sad, happy ,romantic, funny, dirty...

Oh, she loves you so much, she needs you, she needs you to hug her and tell her that everything is all alright, that she hasn't lost you, that you still love her. She wished she hadn't slapped you that she would have been more leanint, maybe her fathers ways weren't the best, she sighed. 'I should have been nicer, listened to her,' she thought, beating herself up. She remembers your touch as if you are there loving her. Her skin burning in a pleasant way, goosebumps rising. Your moans, pants, whimpers, filled her mind, along with the picture of your shaking body underneath her flushed form, succumbing to the pleasure that she so sweetly Inflicted.

You put her under a love sick spell that so truly could not escape. She couldn't help but slip her hand down into her lace panties, parting her folds by running a singular digit through her aching core, collecting her arousal, heat dripping every. She rubbed her pink, sensitive bud, toying, and pinching it. Closing her eyes, she let her mind run wild with the thought of you. Certain scenarios and flashbacks play in her mind, all while Natasha moaned your name out loud. She wanted more. Slipping a finger into her greedy cunt, she started a steady pace. Muscles tensing, hips bucking up trying to chase after the pleasureable sensation, all she could think about was you. Adding another finger a whorish moan escaped past the lips of the dangerous women. Her cunt was dragging her in, sponey walls clenching and stretching around her fingers. She chanted your name like it was payer while picking up the pace, her free hand clawing at her clothed tits, her hardened nipple rubbing against her palm, making them even more erect. A tight coil formed in the depths stomach, longing to be released. Her body twitched as if electricity ran through her veins, caught up in the pure pleasure. That overwhelming coil finally snapped, screaming your name. Eyes rolling to the back of her head, body trembling, as her sweet juices gushed onto her fingers. Bitting her lip to suppress more moans as she slowly pulled out digits, dragging her finger against her fluttering walls.

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"Y/n, my love!" Wanda screamed at the top of her lungs from your bedroom. Cutting up the last apple and throwing it into the bowl of delicious fruit, you screamed back.

"One second hunny, I'll be there!"

Grabbing the blow and making your way to the bedroom, you open the door to reveal a very domestic looking Wanda who was smiling up to you. Your heart burst at the site. She was adorable. Her hair in a messy bun, settled into bed, sitting up straight with her back against the lagre, lush head borad. Fluffy Covers on her lap and computer on top. Smiling back, you made your way around the bed and into your side, passing her the fuirt.

"Here you go, wands. I thought you might want a snack," you said while resting your head on her shoulder.

"Thank you," she smiled while kissing your forehead.

"What did you want me here for?" You asked, grabbing the cloud like duvet and throwing it over yourself.

"The grand alliance is on Tuesday. Um, how do you feel about that?" she said, puffing up her cheeks and looking at you with nervous eyes. "It's important," she added. You gave her a knowing glare.

"Erh, well, I know it's very important to you -" you started.

"I can go by myself!" She chimed in.

"No, it's okay, I want to be there with you. I want to be by your side and support, I want to watch it organisation grow... and Natasha," you struggled to get her name out "I don't think she will care, I mean she has her whore she'll be to focused on her" you expressed. Wanda smiled and kissed your lips.

"Thank you, hunny."

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Dressed to the nines, Wanda exudes confidence and elegance. Her fiery red hair cascades in soft curls, framing her face with a seductive allure. Her slender figure is adorned with a stunning black dress, hugging her curves in all the right places. The fabric shimmers under the lights, reflecting the stars that dance in her vibrant green eyes. As for you, you radiate beauty and grace, captivating those around you with your stunning presence. Your attire is a testament to your allure, the fabric enveloping your body in a silky embrace. Every move you make commands attention, drawing gazes from all directions.

As you step into the grand hall of the event, all eyes turn towards you and Wanda. The enchanting music fills the grand hall, reverberating through the space and setting the stage for an evening of sophisticated enchantment. The atmosphere is filled with an aura of anticipation and excitement. With laughter, animated conversations, and the clinking of glasses, as joy overtakes the lingering bitterness of your recent worries. With Wanda by your side, the night takes on a new vibrance. Her playful banter and coy smile reassure you.

As you navigate the vast sea of attendees, the palpable chemistry between you and Wanda draws the attention of onlookers. Whispers of awe ripple through the crowd, but it is your unwavering connection that stands out the most. Wanda's hand tightens around yours, her eyes locked with yours in a silent affirmation. In this glamorous setting, you slowly find yourselves in the centre of attention, surrounded by powerful figures and influential individuals. Around an hour went by, chatting to those around you, until a hush fell over the room, eyes shift towards the grand staircase.

Natasha was the definition of beauty and elegance. Her back straight, and her chin held high, her face stonic. She was dressed in an elegant suit, the lines of the fabric sweeping gracefully over her body. The jacket nipped in at the waist, and the skirt flowed out in a perfect line. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek bun, with a few strands left to frame her face. Her makeup was flawless, with a neutral palette that complemented the rich brown of her suit. The colours of her outfit were echoed in her accessories, from the subtle sparkle of her earrings to the glossy shine of her heeled boots. As she descended the staircase, the guests looked on in admiration. The way she moved was graceful and confident, and she seemed to glide across the room rather than walk. The cut of her outfit was flattering, its lines elongating her form and drawing the eye to the classic beauty of her features. Natasha was the epitome of elegance and style, and the guests couldn't help but stare as she made her way towards her destination. Her presence in the room cast a spell of sophistication and charm, and for a moment, it seemed as if the world had stopped turning for her. In that moment, she was the star of the show, and it was clear that she had earned that title. And yet, as beautiful as she was on the outside, there was something deeper about her that was even more dark. The room burst into applause as Natasha took her seat, her grand entrance a resounding success. As the evening went on, her hard work and diligence were rewarded as the guests hailed her as a master organizer, a woman who had brought together a beautiful and unforgettable event.

And unforgettable is what it will be.

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It was hard was hard for Natasha to see you with another woman, gracefully moving throughout the hall. She couldn't take it any longer. She didn't expect you to see you here, especially with Wanda. She faintly knew off the redhead from conversations with you. Tonight was the night that she got you back. She knew she wouldn't have a chance like this again. Pulling out her phone, she hastily texted Clint and Steve.

The crowds attention was pulled onto Clint as he jumped onto the stage, starting up the auction. You sat next to Wanda chatting about the valuables up on stage. Carol, one of Natasha's employees, slipped past and dropped a dissolvable tablet into your fruity drink. Natasha watched with an amused face as she watched the pink drink bubble and fizzy as the tiny, white table disintegrated. You were so clueless, so adorable, as you swigged the drink down.

After a while, you felt a sudden aruge to use the restroom. You quickly excused yourself and wondered to in the back halls. Natasha unpatiently waited a bit. Finally, Steve dropping off a cloth covered in chorlfom before she sneaked off to the restrooms.

Humming a tune contently to yourself, you let the lukewarm warm water devolp your hands, the smell of hygienic, antibacterial soap filling your nostrils. Looking up pure terror filled your body, Natasha was there. For a moment, time seemed to come to a standstill. Your heart raced as you looked into her familiar eyes, remembering all of the happy times you had shared together. The colour of your face drained. But as you looked at her now, you realized that things were different. In her eyes swirled a raging sea of desire, want, need. Her face in a deranged expression, a wicked grin spreading onto her face. In that moment, you knew that you needed to run. With a heavy heart pounding on your ribcage like a jackhammer, you made a run for the exit.

Natasha grabbed you, holding a firm arm around your waist, pushing her body hard agains you back, longing to feel your touch again. Before you could scream, a white cloth was violentally shoved against your face. You struggled to keep your eyes open, as the fumes flooded your lungs, making you feel dizzy and disoriented as she whipsered sweet nothings into your ear. Stumbling, trying to get away from the Natasha, but your vision was blurred and limbs felt weak. Once your body completely went limp against Natasha, she scooped you up, leaving the event through a secret passage way. Clint was there waiting from the bosses arrival. That night, she drove off successful you back in her fatal but loving arms once again. She did think about her absence, but no one could question the black widow herself about her disappearance.

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When Wanda realised that you weren't back, she started getting worried. This was a huge event full of criminals. Anything could have happened to a pretty girl like you. She checked the restrooms, balconies, and the foyer. Everywhere. Seeing that Natasha was gone only increased her worries. She couldn't find you at all. Panicking, she informed her crewmates, who started a search for you.

Meanwhile, you were half home, well, your new home. The car sped down the dark roads, avoiding public areas, the tinted windows down just to a crack. The breeze blew through the open window as the driver drove through the pitch-black night. The only light in the sky was the endless sea of stars, twinkling like glitter thrown onto a black velvet fabric. The air-conditioning hummed softly in the background, soothing her tired body after a long day of work. In the darkness, she held your unconscious form. Listening to the steady hum of the tires on the road. The scenery outside began to fade, leaving nothing but a darkness so thick you could cut it with a knife. Soon, the only light came from the car's headlights, lighting up the road before you. The road stretched on forever, with no signs of life anywhere.

"My sweet girl," she whipsered, stoking your forehead. Her love lay beside her, peacefully asleep. As she gazed at you, Natasha revelled in your beauty. The soft curves of your body, the delicate lines of your face, the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed. You were her world, her everything, and she couldn't imagine life without you again. That dreadful feeling in her chest faded. Natasha leaned in and kissed your cheek, feeling a rush of love and gratitude. Your skin was soft and smooth, and she couldn't resist running her fingers over their facial features, tracing the outline of your nose and chin. As she looked at you, she was reminded of all the reasons she loved you. You kindness, your compassion, your humour, and your unwavering devotion. You were her best friend, her partner in crime, and her soul mate, and she knew that she was the luckiest person in the world to have you.As you slept, Natasha leaned in and whispered all her love for you. Sbe knew that you couldn't hear her, but that didn't matter. The words were for her, a reminder of all that she was grateful for. And in that moment, she felt content, knowing that she had you back.

Natasha knew that you may need time to trust her again, but she was willing to go through all that. She wanted to treat you better, to show you her version of love, not her stupid father's.

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Waking up in an unfamiliar, dark room, you realized that wasn't your bed. You glanced around, trying to make sense of your new strange surroundings,and different clothes. Your heart began to race as you realized you had been kidnapped again. You sat up quickly, body trembling as you looked around the room, just making out dark furniture and shadows in the corner. Just then, you heard a shuffling sound. Your heart skipped a beat. You slowly turned to face the sound and saw Natasha sitting at her vanity.

"Hello, my love, long time no see, huh?" Natasha chuckled out, looking at you through the elegant mirror wearing a slik, black robe. Without hesitation, you jumped out of bed and bolted for the door, mind racing with thoughts of escape. Natahs watched you sighing, "stupid flight or fight," she muttered to herself.

You sprinted through the halls of the mansion, looking for an exit, but as you turned the corners, you realized that the halls were infinite. No matter how far you ran, there was no escape, Natasha slowly following her, her pace calm and steady. Sprinting through the maze-like mansion, trying to avoid Natasha and find a way out of the mansion.

"Y/n!" Natasha repeatedly shouted out your name.

Your heart hurt. Weaving through the labyrinth of halls and rooms, searching for an exit, but every door you tried is locked. Feeling a sense of panic and desperation, your heart was pounding in your chest. Your breath becomes shallow gasps, but you refuse to give up. You continued to run, trying to find a way out, praying that you would be able to escape from the harsh clutches of Natasha Romanoff.

Reaching a dead end, you pull on the door handle, hoping it would open you. You could hear her footsteps getting closer and closer, they taunted you. Every. Single. Step. Giving up, you slid down the door, crying hysterically. You brought your knees up to your chest, hiding your face.

"Ah! there you are," Natasha said, looking around the corner, taking in your crying form she rushed to your side. "My love, don't cry. I'm not going to hurt you," she said, sitting next to you.

"I want Wanda," you sobbed out.

"She gone, love." You looked up at her with teary eyes,"What do you mean she gone!" You said voice breaking, knowing natashas cruel ways. "Dead," she said in a sickly sweet tone, brain flicking back to sending out a team while you were asleep. You sobbed harded. "you bitch!"

"I know, my love, I missed you, I'm truly sorry for everything, Wanda, though not at all she was in the way," she cooed while pushing her body close to yours "why are you doing this? You've hurt me enough. You cheated on me!" Your voice was a mess. "And now Wanda!" Your voice raised.

"Why can't you leave me be?!"

"Y/n, I love you, I'm so sorry. It was all a mistake. I've been going crazy this past few months. Please y/n I need you!" Her voice was laced with desperation. You could tell she was truly sorry. Her words gave you some type of comfort. It felt like you weren't enough for her, but now it was like you were. It felt like a massive hole had been filled. Back then, you always craved Natasha's validation, receiving it felt amazing. She had done terrible things, but you just couldn't help to fall for her again. Despite the cruel killing she just ordered on your lover, you couldn't help but sightly lean on her. Looking back on it, it felt you used Wanda as a distraction. So blinded by hurt and anger.

"Please baby, I need you," Natasha whipsered out tears forimg. All you could manage was a little nod. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes," your voice was barely above a whipser. There was no point in fighting her. She was too powerful. Your body missed her embrace. Now, in her full presence, you realized how much you yearned for her.

"I'll better, I promise baby," she whipsered sincerely, supporting you while you cried out your heart. Leaving kisses all over your head. You glimpses at the vulnerability in her gaze, the walls she built again, crumbling down as she curls up beside you. Natasha wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a cocoon of warmth and safety. Her touch is tender, as if trying to convey all the love and reassurance she's capable of. She buries her face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in, finding solace in your presence. Soft whispers escape her lips, a chorus of apologies and promises. "I'm here for you, always. I'll do whatever it takes to heal your wound hearts." In this moment, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you as you seek solace within each other's embrace. Natasha's restless fingers glide along your arm, tracing invisible patterns as a silent testament to her devotion.

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Pt.3 is in the works I hope you enjoyed!

@alianovnasposts @badbitchrebequinha

196 notes · View notes

madarasgirl · 10 months

Text

A Night for Hunting Ch.5- Obsession isn't Love

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, yandere, jealous vampire, centipedes, alcohol consumption & intoxication. Please take the Uber or stay over with your host after a night out and don’t try to walk home alone when you’re almost blackout drunk.

Btw I believe vampires like Alucard are extremely smell-driven. I hope the wait for this chapter was worth it! Happy long weekend Canadian and American readers! Words: 5029 On AO3

A rustle of cloth, a merging with the outer brick walls. With the grace of a summer breeze, the mass of blackness was inside, brushing past the quaint decor of a modest apartment. The vampire was one with the darkness, crawling along the walls, skimming the surfaces of your home to survey his territory. His findings were immediately apparent. He scented the elaborate floral arrangement upon phasing through the walls and making his entrance and approached to inspect it. It was a lovely display of blossoms, dense clusters of blue hyacinths in full bloom threw off their sweet, earthy smells, mixed with orangey-pink roses and dramatic peonies. The arrangement sent a gentle fragrance, which was quite pleasant, wafting throughout your home. The only issue was it also carried the hint of an unfamiliar male's scent. The vampire frowned.

You weren't there, unexpectedly. Alucard spent several minutes poking around, checking the windows and locks as he did the very first time he invited himself in to ensure they were secure. Everything else was as they should be. He glanced once more at the neatly arranged bundle of cut flowers in a vase.

With a swish of his duster tails, the vampire vanished from your home without a word, setting out to haunt the streets and look for his human. ---------------------

“Cheers!” You laughed heartily as you and your family clanged your glasses together. Dinner unfurled over the course of hours, where you noisily exchanged recent amusing stories to catch up. One of them retold the story of their nurse colleague telling the unit administration of a patient’s family complaining about wanting reimbursement for the deceased patient’s bursted breast implants after CPR, only for the admin to find out it was a joke the nurse made up when they were finally ready to go talk to the family. You were howling in laughter because they couldn’t not take such a complaint seriously! In retaliation, the admin arranged for one of the most serious attending physicians to inform that nurse they were being reported to Legal, freaking the nurse out, only to find out immediately that that was also a prank. It was brilliant. You nearly snorted your drink in laughter. The restaurant atmosphere was raucous and electric, but alas, all good things came to an end.

Finally, you had to bid your family a bittersweet goodbye with numerous embraces. Everyone was too drunk to drive home, which was to be expected after not seeing each other in so long. It was a splendid gathering, but maybe you overdid the drinks despite having eaten so much. You waved off their suggestions to book an Uber, stating it was still much earlier in the night than when you normally headed home after work. They were worrying for nothing. The walk will help you clear the alcohol.

You exited at the bus stop nearest your home. For once, there were people around. They chattered with the same excited buzz that mirrored your own earlier. The local shops remained open at this hour to serve the nighttime crowd, yet you couldn’t place what it was that felt off. Brushing the vague feeling of apprehension aside, you rode the high off the fantastic get-together with a feverish spirit and a spring to your steps.

It was now warm day and night. The streets were pleasantly calm despite the occasional clamour. It was nice to see signs of life as you headed home earlier for once. Even if that irritating vampire came to stalk you, so what? You felt as if nothing could dampen your glow tonight.

You were only tipsy, which was the best state of alcohol consumption to be in, in your opinion. Your steps remained steady as you thought about a multitude of things –what activities to pass the time with tomorrow, what to eat, whether you should work extra shifts this week.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you felt the blanket of inebriation fall over you. Your thoughts wandered and seemed less your own. Your gait grew unsteady with more stumbling and weaving as you continued the journey.

You swore you were only tipsy not too long ago. It was an interesting sensation when your mind was still aware of the body not entirely obeying. Luckily, you were able to place one foot in front of the other to take the nearly automated path home, which you knew like the back of your hand, even with the mind becoming clouded and not operating completely voluntarily.

The excitement of the day finally caught up and you were spent. You wanted nothing more than to take off your makeup and fall naked into the welcoming softness of your bed. Closing your eyes briefly felt great, but you abandoned that after a few attempts. You were so much more nauseous with your closed eyes. Uh oh.

Step. Step. Placing a hand on the wall to steady yourself, you looked around. Good, there was the supermarket, followed by the stop sign with an ad for a dog walker nailed to it, as you expected. You were almost home.

It was so quiet now that you reached this part of the neighbourhood. Normally, you were hyper-aware of your surroundings during your nighttime commutes, especially after that vampire started following you around last year, but tonight, you didn’t even hear the leaves rustling or the typical sounds of wildlife and cars. Were you just too drunk tonight to notice the things you should?

How much did you drink? When was the last time you found yourself in this sorry state? Now that you focused on it, you felt the wind blowing and finally rustling the thick foliage of the trees overhead, only gently, yet it fed the nausea. You shoved it down and kept stumbling. Almost there. --------------------

Alucard drifted through the skies, occasionally landing to survey your usual commute routes before alighting once more. It was too soon for you to be coming home on a work night, yet he hadn’t detected your scent at all along your preferred routes to work earlier. It seemed you were free tonight, but weren’t home either.

Twice his supernatural senses identified the signs of ghouls in the vicinity and he made a detour to dispose of them. Several shots to the head each, before he continued his search silently. In truth, only one bullet was required to end either of the ghouls, but Alucard was never one to be frugal with his silver. His jaw tightened. Where there were ghouls, there were usually more, maybe even a vampire.

As he circled restlessly back into your neighbourhood, he happened upon your scent in the air after too long and closed in on his little one, only to be overcome by the sweet smell of alcohol and the stench of vomit. He crept up to examine the sad sight of you hunched over and heaving to dispel the poison in your body. It seemed you were empty, so you stood to continue shuffling along as if nothing had happened after a swipe of the mouth. He was strangely irritated. Were you even aware of the risks you took tonight?

“How pitiful. And utterly stupid of you.”

Oh. You felt so ill. Did someone say something? Very belatedly, you turned to address the noise. Something huge and red was approaching from behind and you tensed up, fearing the worst. Oh. You tried to focus. It was only Alucard. A confusing feeling of relief washed over you, which was almost comical. Since when did seeing your stalker feel reassuring?

The vampire caught the passing sentiment before his attention snapped back as you started giggling. “I can see your eyes in the shadows. You don’t scare me anymore.” Your palm pressed against your lips as you kept laughing to yourself.

Crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he loomed near. “You were not home tonight,” he murmured.

"No really? You aren’t my dad. I don't have to justify where I am to you," you slurred and wagged a finger at him, then turned and sashayed away like a queen with the vampire following a few paces behind.

Step, step, step.

Perhaps you weren’t as close to home as you thought. Did you remember the path wrong? No, the supermarket, the stop sign. You sighed. So tired. It felt like your mind was wrapped in cotton candy. Squinting, you sat down gingerly on the curb to think about where you were.

“I’m only taking a short break,” you garbled to your companion.

You fell asleep sitting on the curb, leaving the nightwalker staring incredulously, even if it wasn’t apparent on his face. Now that you were away from the pool of vomit, he detected the scent of other men on you. He frowned again. He didn’t like waiting, and the irritation grew stronger with each whiff.

You eventually came to and started to walk again, only to sit down with crossed legs in the middle of the street for another break not long after as you wondered why this was taking so long.

This was ridiculous. Alucard stood over you, bent down, and plucked you off the ground, swinging you smoothly into a bridal carry. You were already blacked out. Distaste that even the vomit didn’t elicit nipped at his consciousness, but with your comfortable weight in his arms and his scent rubbing off on your body, everything became more tolerable.

Your eyes were shut and being off your feet was comfortable, but the repetitive up and down movement was jarring. Why were you sloshing around up and down? Overcome with nausea, you couldn’t hold it anymore. “!!!” You threw up against a velvety, solid surface and felt instant relief before fading away.

Having arrived at your building, Alucard huffed at the odor and the inconvenience of your vomit on his chest. He gently placed you on the ground and turned immaterial so that the emesis puddled at the ground before he reformed a few paces away and picked you back up.

A silver vehicle slowed as it passed him. What a bother. He seemed to be quick to aggravate tonight. Alucard slipped off his orange-tinted sunglasses with an extra hand and held the driver captive with his bewitching gaze when they ignorantly made direct eye contact.

There is nothing wrong.

T-there is…n-nothing wrong. A small voice repeated.

The vehicle drove off, leaving the two of you alone once more. He stared at your delicate features. Disregarding the show you put on earlier, you looked peaceful now. The handsome vampire sauntered to the side of the building and casually strolled up the wall under the cover of darkness before stepping onto the balcony. With just a thought, it unlocked itself and he brought his cargo inside to carefully unload onto the couch.

He was on the other couch as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest and listened to your rhythmic breathing. Somehow you managed to spare your clothing a bath in your own stomach contents. His eyes narrowed, his lips a thin line as the stench of foreign males on your body invaded his senses again. The flowers only annoyed him now. His fingers tapped along the armrest as he kept taking in your features. --------------------

It must have been only around a quarter hour later when you stirred. You were dazed and jumpy when you made out the glowing crimson orbs fixed on you. With a nervous glance back at Alucard's inhuman gaze, you stumbled through the dark, making your way to the washroom for a quick shower and to remove the makeup. You experienced an episode of dry-heaving, but thankfully, there was nothing left to hurl. You brushed your teeth.

You were indeed less intoxicated now. How humiliating to be seen the way you were. Still…Alucard helped keep you safe tonight while you floundered about the streets like a proper drunkard. You glimpsed yourself in the mirror and acknowledged how you looked as terrible as you felt. Some food would help settle your stomach right now.

As you made your way down the hall, the lights came on for you. Alucard’s doing. There he was, staring imperiously at you with his legs crossed. The hat and jacket were still on.

“I…um…”

“...”

“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Um, I don’t want to look at alcohol right now haha,” you stated sheepishly.

“...” His eyes were so very red and luminous. Did he look displeased?

Unsure of how to act right now, you broke eye contact first and looked everywhere except in his direction. “How about something to eat?” You awkwardly stuck a hashbrown and some frozen nuggets into the small countertop convection oven and waited for him to say something.

“Attempting to come home alone in your state was unwise, human.”

Part of you wanted to argue, only because that was how you were used to interacting with him, but he was right. You’ve made better life decisions before.

“It was…” Your head hung low. “Thank you for bringing me home tonight,” you mumbled.

Alucard’s gaze softened, even if the tingle of vexation remained at the back of his mind. His eyes closed as he exhaled. “Coffee. Just black.” Crimson irises spun into a lovely sunset hue.

Your brows lifted at his sudden change in demeanor as you looked back at him before rushing to prepare his beverage. French press was your preferred method. Soon enough, you had a steaming cup of black in front of him.

You sat by yourself at the table while nibbling on your small portion of greasy comfort food. It was stranger than ever tonight when you didn’t feel like snapping at your guest. Was this creature worried about you? Why did he help you? Was it so that only he got to have you? All he ever did was torment you, but tonight, through the fog of the fragmented pieces you remembered, he was almost…kind.

The coffee smelled a blend of smoky and nutty, a heavenly mixture nearly as good as what Walter served. The taste…Alucard smiled bitterly. It must be delicious, but it was nothing more than piss water to his vampiric taste buds. The joys of food consumption were a distant memory from lifetimes ago and one of the few things he missed about his human life. Watching the effort you put into preparing each meal, studying your eating habits and your enjoyment of your meals truly made him nostalgic.

“How is the coffee?” You ventured a question.

“Excellent.” Alucard finished the glass without a hint of betraying his true thoughts on your first demonstration of hospitality towards him.

So vampires can drink coffee. You wondered what else he consumed besides the obvious. Chewing lightly on the corner of your lower lip, you crossed your ankles, then uncrossed them immediately when it didn't feel as comfortable as expected. There was a spider crawling across the corner of the ceiling. You brought your gaze back down from the arachnid to stare at the cuticles of your nails.

It was so quiet tonight, you realized as you shifted your weight again. Was there no one else at home on the floor? As always, he was staring so intently, like he was trying to bore holes through your head. You swallowed before getting up and going over to your new flowers, missing your guest's deep frown.

His human was anxious. You were, as was often the case, intensely uncomfortable in his presence. Not only did the sour tang waft off your pores, you wouldn't stop fidgeting in your seat, although he wasn't even attempting the things he usually did to distress you. Alucard's frown grew as he watched you put your nose in the blooms to sniff and then sigh.

How nauseating. "Lovely blooms, little one."

"Yes they were a gift from a friend." Your expression was soft.

You were recalling another man fondly, one you were barely acquaintances with. A friend. His eyes hardened into slits, nostrils flaring at the scent he was forced to inhale a thousand times more powerfully than you ever could, even from a distance.

His satisfaction about your new hospitality was gradually fading away, only to be replaced with inexplicable agitation. Gloved fingers drummed restlessly against the plush armrest.

"Human courtship is such a delicate ritual, entirely lacking in creativity or passion," he commented.

You tensed. "It was a sweet gesture. Not everyone is as uncouth as some."

A challenge? A devilish grin painted his lips and he chuckled in anticipation. He loved when you fought.

"Your florals, the prized jewels cut from their mother plants at the height of their prime? Doomed to perish within the week. Elegant as they are, they're a fleeting beauty, nothing more than the living dead clinging pathetically to a semblance of life," he stated wryly.

There it was, the vampire's freaky smile. Reminding yourself that nothing had changed between you, that he was still an infuriating ass, you retorted, "Human courtship should be slow. Morbid as your comparison was, flowers are a symbol of romance and love, not that someone like you would know about those things, even if you were human at some point."

"Love?” He cocked his head. "I do know of that emotion." His eyes flashed dangerously as he rose from the couch to stalk closer with his fangs bared, causing you to stagger backwards from your spot in alarm. The chair you sat in earlier fell over with a clatter, and for several seconds, you stared at each other silently. You didn't dare blink in those moments as your breath hitched, your pupils were dilated and veins coursing with adrenaline, the entirety of your attention focused on the supernatural creature who stood like a reaper in your living room.

The truce was over, you realized, and you fought to blink back tears. Alucard didn't do more to threaten you, but the situation took a nosedive for the worse during the last few minutes of exchange. Feeling like you were backed into a corner with no way to turn the conversation around, you excused yourself meekly and headed for bed, exhausted, the vampire luckily not pressing you more for now, though he tracked your movement with predatory precision as you brushed past him.

Alucard watched the bedroom door shut, followed by the distinctive click of the lock turning, as if that would keep a monster out. But you knew as well as he did that the locked door was merely symbolic. He was unwelcome in the inner haven of your refuge. He tasted the salt of your tears as clearly as he heard the sobs from beyond that door. The trail of fear you left in your wake annoyed him right now, with this revelation only serving to annoy him even further in a cyclical loop. What was this feeling? For him, your fear was normally a reliable source of arousal and delight.

He redirected his thoughts away from the troublesome emotion and replayed tonight’s events. You unknowingly put yourself in danger, not only from the undead. The night streets were not a place for a naive little human such as yourself. There were plenty of unsavoury outcomes he listed to himself when he was combing the streets for signs of your presence, only to finally find you delirious from drink and vulnerable. It was a relief no one else got to you first.

After the shower, you were thankfully cleansed of the filth of another male's touch, yet you also removed his scent from your skin. He couldn’t find the word to describe the feeling, but he was malcontent with tonight's turn of events.

Historically, he was not averse to sharing his human companions. Man, woman, something else, it mattered little to him. There was a hedonistic gluttony to enjoying the flesh of multiple humans simultaneously. It wasn't completely true when he said he didn't eat human flesh. Through lidded eyes, he imagined the taste of your skin and salivated. How sweet would the slick of your flower be? What did your petals look like? Yet the idea of another’s touch on your skin was simply distasteful. He growled in a low, threatening pitch that was nearly imperceptible to human ears.

He was a king. But he could be an uncouth savage as well.

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

You woke up in the middle of the night feeling parched. Despite the snack earlier, you still felt the hangover developing. There was a pounding headache in your temples and persistent nausea that made it feel like your stomach was going to devour itself. The clock read 0440. Even if your room was pitch black thanks to the blackout curtains, it was almost sunrise during these warm summer months and the vampire surely must be gone. You needed some water.

It was still dark outside when you emerged from slumber and felt around along the wall for where you expected the light switch to be, only to have something hairy rush across your fingers. You pulled back in shock. What was that? Something small and fuzzy brushed against your foot and you shot backwards, crushing another little thing underfoot with a quiet crunch.

Then you heard it, the eerie scuttering of legs…like millions of tiny taps that coalesced into a symphony of rustling noise. You stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, trying to make sense of what was going on to cause such a disturbance when the lights suddenly came back on by themselves.

You stayed frozen as you blinked blindly in the garish light before letting out a soundless gasp at the disgusting sight that greeted you. Unable to process it, you only trembled in horrified disbelief. They were everywhere, thousands, no, possibly hundreds of thousands or more, of centipedes scampering freely, covering every surface in your home. They formed a writhing, undulating mass of scurrying legs that made the walls come alive with movement. More daring specimens ran across your feet and you madly kicked your feet to keep them clear.

It was revolting, truly a thing of nightmares.

Finally, you screamed.

“A-ah…AHH. AHHHHH. AHHHHHHHH.” With your lips tremoring, you caught your breath as the realization of what you were looking at settled in. Centipedes. Why centipedes?! You hated the nasty critters –the more legs, the more harrowing they were. Several leggy abominations tried to scurry up your legs.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH. AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!”

If this was a joke, he went way too far. You screamed and screamed and screamed, until the damned beast stole your voice to silence you, and still you tried to scream.

Thousands of eyes opened on the walls and floor of your home, and he appeared in the middle of it all, surrounded by an ominous crimson aura and a gigantic eye on his chest, his pet centipedes crawling up his torso.

You clenched your eyes to protect yourself from the sickening sight, your revulsion rolling off of you in waves as your throat finally gave in. You were coughing and hyperventilating as he approached with a frown and furrowed brows while you batted wildly at the air to keep him at bay. At last you found your voice again and you shrieked for him to leave with a hoarse voice.

“What is wrong with you?! Nevermind, just get out! I don’t want to see you!” Your eyes snapped open and you stared at him with a frenzied look. “I’m not yours or your toy! You’re just this thing that follows me around and won’t let me be!” You sobbed, your hands flapping in the air as you gestured to make your point clearer.

When the monster didn’t say anything, you continued. "I don't want you! You can have anyone you want, just leave me alone!" Your voice broke and you trailed off with a whimper as you buried your face in your hands and wept in despair.

The centipedes dissolved into nothing like they were never there. The eyes disappeared. Alucard took another step towards you awkwardly, intending to provide comfort, only to realize he didn’t know how. Your tears bothered him, confused him, and he was stung by the rejection. He somehow didn’t like how he upset you this time.

“Why can’t you just find another toy to play with? I don’t want to be part of your twisted games anymore.” Your face must be so swollen from the crying. Your vision was blurred from the tears and you could hardly breathe through the snot and the hiccups.

There was banging on your door. “Is everything okay in there?” It must be the friendly neighbour down the hall coming to check in on the commotion. You gasped and turned to Alucard with a distraught expression as you swiped at your eyes, hoping against all odds he wasn’t going to retaliate against the good Samaritan for the disturbance.

His face was shadowed. All these disruptions tonight. All is well. Leave us. He directed the thought towards the nosy human outside in the hall.

The neighbour knocked again, albeit more hesitantly while calling out your name. Alucard’s lips curled. He strode to the entrance, shocking you out of your stupor and you rushed after him in dread, grabbing his hand to stop him from…you weren’t sure. Was he going to kill your friend on the other side of the door? All you knew was that Alucard was extremely dangerous right now, but your weight did nothing to slow him.

He ripped open the door and glared at your neighbour while you dangled off his arm. The smell hit him. This…was the same man who gave you those fucking flowers, who you thought of fondly earlier. He hissed and the man lurched back from the towering menace in front of him. The hiss warped into a growl and the vampire took another step forward, sadistic pleasure filling his mind as the scent of absolute fear from the craven piece of rubbish permeated the hall.

“Alucard! Alucard!” A familiar voice called him with urgency. It was a voice he dreamt of when his dreams weren’t filled with violence, pain, and humiliation. It was you.

Alucard came back to himself and saw you. He glanced at the man outside, who had fallen over on his ass and urinated himself, before looking back at you. You were still tugging at his gangly arm, staring at him with huge frightened eyes, an imploring look in your face that begged him to stop. He composed himself. His human was begging him for something only he could provide, even if it was something as simple as ‘not ending the life of the other man in front of him.’ You even used his name.

He nearly laughed, the crimson in his eyes were molten. “There is nothing wrong here. Forget everything that happened,” he ordered the beleaguered human man sitting in rank piss, who gawped at the profane beast in a trance before the door shut on his face.

Inside the condo, Alucard turned his attention back to you with a sideways glance. You thought he didn't want you, Alucard realized. You assumed he was still only toying with you, that you were just a quarry animal for him to trifle with in his spare time. What was this feeling? This unpalatable feeling of distress at the thought of you by another’s side without him?

“...You…are not a mere toy.”

You remained petrified after just narrowly averting one disaster. Your puffy red eyes met his. “Then what am I, if not a toy? What is this?” You asked with a whisper and released his arm.

His gaze flickered briefly to the floral arrangement, but you caught it. Realization dawned as you suddenly understood what just happened tonight with clarity. All this, because of some bloody flowers? He was silently looking at you with his hands at his side, his head at a slight tilt.

You went rigid. It was with trepidation regarding any more confrontation when you started speaking again, trying desperately to put your rambling thoughts into coherent sentences. “No, no, no, no, no, don’t say it. What you’re feeling, it’s just possessiveness and jealousy. You don’t actually care about human life. A selfish monster with no obligations or morals, as if something like you would ever understand what love is. You can pretend, but in the end, your obsession is nothing but a poor imitation."

The creature’s expression fell the tiniest fraction. It was indiscernible if you weren't already looking at him through glassy eyes. You would feel guilty about it if you weren't so incensed by his idea of a joke and drained by all that transpired.

He brushed away the disappointment from your rejection. Possession. Yes, it was what the vampire King wanted, to have you. He needed to show you. Pushing down the discomfort, he reacted aggressively to your words, a gloved hand shooting out to scruff you by the front of your shirt and pull you roughly to him.

“You are mine.”

Cold lips slammed against yours with a growl. You slapped him and staggered away, the sharp sound of the impact cutting through the muted background noises of your home.

"Get out," you ground out. His three simple words confirmed everything you said moments ago.

The vampire stalked towards you and you felt the chill down your spine. Hellfire. Those were the eyes of a remorseless murderer, but you didn’t back down from the threat.

“What? Are you going to kill me?”

He snorted and caged you against the wall with his arms. “As if you are worth killing. Treat your life with more reverence, foolish human.”

Wearing an aggrieved smile, his gaze ran slowly down the contours of your face. The rising sun casted a rosy hue across the sky, his body backlit by the gentle golden rays of promise. You couldn’t help but stare. The vampire looked nearly ethereal in this light.

Alucard closed his eyes and withdrew. There was nothing more to be said and he should be returning. A new day was dawning. Sparing one last look back at you, he disappeared and left you alone, as you had wished.

~To be Continued~

Next chapter: The Living Dead

#alucard fanfiction #alucard x reader #yandere alucard #alucard hellsing #alucard x you #alucard #hellsing alucard #hellsing ultimate #hellsing fandom

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bluemidnightmelody · 23 days

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lover/fighter - my favorite moments

[Little snippets from my Finnick/OC longfic that are stuck in my head]

From Chapter 51 - Rules, and those who break them

Rhea runs. Finnick's sudden intervention has torn away the veil of numbness that had been over her until now and she suddenly realizes the full extent of her irresponsibility. All she can think about is that she has to get away from there, so she gives her legs free rein, which are now leading her along the edge of the harbor as if by instinct, just away from everything.

When she finally stops, she stands in the sand and stares out to the sea in front of her. Its usually clear blue color is darker today, grayer, while the rain falls down on it without letting the surface come to rest. She feels strangely in tune with everything around her, the whole world seems to be in turmoil today and she can feel the breathlessness that makes it harder for her to think clearly.

The noise is still incredibly loud, louder than the crunching of hasty footsteps in the sand behind her. "Hey," a soft voice murmurs through the background noise. It sounds pleasant and comforting, but she still cringes at the hand placed on her shoulder.

She half expects to see one of the two peacekeepers, ready to yell at her and send her back to the Capitol all tied up. In the best case. But it's Finnick, just as breathless as she is, completely drenched from head to toe, as pale in the face as she's ever seen him.

"Hey ... are you okay?" He has to repeat his question three times before she really understands. She still can't manage an answer, but he can see how she is at least searching for words, and that she has at least heard him.

It doesn't matter whether she manages to form any soothing words or not. He doesn't wait for that and instead searches her from top to bottom for any injury, even though he's been watching the whole time and should know there's nothing to find. But he was and still is so beside himself that he doesn't quite trust his memory right now.

This time he deliberately refrains from actually touching her, even though he would like to prefer to check her over thoroughly. Instead, there is always at least a small distance between his fingertips and her. It drives her crazy. "I'm fine, I'm just ... really sad," she says with deep honesty.

Finnick pauses and stares into her eyes with a skeptical look. "But you're okay?" he inquires with a serious expression.

"Yes," she breathes back, trying to figure out whether she wants to cry or not.

Finnick bites his lower lip and nods. "Okay," he says curtly, giving off a vibe she can't compare to anything she's ever seen from him, tortured in a way she doesn't want to see on him either. It lasts only a brief moment, then he takes her face in his hands, gently but firmly, and looks at her with such seriousness and urgency that her breath catches once more.

"Don't ever do that again." It sounds as if it was meant as a rebuke, but the result is more of a desperate begging. His tone is by no means lacking in vehemence, but at best in the necessary sharpness.

Even completely soaked from the rain, his hands are still incredibly warm, in stark contrast to Rhea's ice-cold cheeks. It's only now that she realizes how cold she actually is. If Finnick wasn't captivating her with his intense gaze, she would probably have to stop herself from squeezing his hands tighter to her cheeks just to get a little more of the warmth that he possesses.

But he won't let her. All she can do is stare with wide eyes into his, where a different ocean rages and the different shades of green swirl together. He brushes a strand of wet hair out of her face before his hands gently drop to her shoulders, but he doesn't let her go completely. "I don't know if you realize how incredibly dangerous that just was," he mumbles, not angry or upset, but rather confused, as if he doesn't know exactly how to deal with what just happened or how he should feel about it.

"I know," Rhea replies immediately out of reflex. She knows he's right, but at the same time she still doesn't want to believe that what she's just experienced is real. "He wouldn't have shot." She wants to say it with conviction, but her inability to do so is proof that it's just an optimistic wishful thinking that she wants to believe more than she actually does. The truth is that she has no idea what could have happened, and right now that scares her beyond belief.

"There was a gun barrel pointed at your chest," Finnick replies, licking his lips nervously. He minimally tightens his grip on her shoulders, because if he were to let go now, he knows for sure that his hands would be shaking. "Rhea, this isn't the Capitol. And none of the peacekeepers here will care where you come from, not before and not after they hurt you. Even if you know the boy, or used to know him, and even if you were actually right, it could have been his partner or any other peacekeeper to notice the commotion. You were very close to ending up bleeding out in the street with a bullet in your chest and there's probably no one else but you in the district who would know what to even do in that situation," he tells her, until he reaches the point where he'd rather not think about what might have happened.

Rhea is no different. She can no longer bear to imagine the pictures in her head either, so it's not surprising that she sticks to the one thing that opens up another route for her instead. "I don't know what you think my job is like, but gunshot wounds aren't exactly an everyday occurrence for me either," she mutters, quiet and meek. It's a stupid answer and in the end, she doesn't manage to distract herself with it. Instead, she realizes that she is now on the verge of tears, even if she would like to fight them. "I'm sorry, that was really dumb, wasn't it?" she sobs somewhat helplessly.

Finnick's resolve crumbles instantly. "It's okay," he whispers, a little dazed, and simply pulls her into his arms without any resistance. "I'm not angry either, not really, just ... shocked," he murmurs somewhere against her soaking wet hair and closes his eyes tightly. "Of all the things I thought I'd have to worry about with you, I didn't expect you to pick a fight with the peacekeepers."

Maybe that's what made it so bad. Being completely overwhelmed by a situation he couldn't have remotely foreseen has briefly sent him into a state of genuine panic.

Rhea can hear in his voice how badly this messed him up and she would be lying if she said she wasn't genuinely sorry. The fact that she can't help but flee into the comfort of his arms makes her remorse even stronger and yet she simply has to wonder how it can be that someone in the midst of wind and rain could feel as warm and cozy as a gently glowing fireplace.

How does this man manage to override the rules of this world in every aspect of his existence? And how can it be that just a moment ago she was worrying about life and death, but right now the biggest regret that comes to her mind is that she would never have been able to be held by him again if she had actually met her end there on the street. There's something about him, something that fogs her senses and infiltrates her mind, and it's so tempting that she's almost inclined to let it happen.

She lets out a shaky breath, but everything already seems far less bad than the moment before. "Did I manage to surprise you?" It's just a soft whisper and she's not sure if he even heard her but pressed there against his chest, wet shirt clinging to his skin, she can surprisingly feel his already rapid heartbeat pick up a little.

"Always," comes his reply, albeit strangely airy and a little scratchy.

She feels the goosebumps on her skin slowly spreading, but she is no longer cold. It increases her confusion briefly before she finally understands. Without knowing whether she should be disappointed in herself or even worried, she realizes that the reason is excitement. Joyful, pleasant, effervescent excitement that he triggers in her the closer he gets. It's excruciatingly wonderful.

"Careful. Otherwise, people might get the idea that you're actually afraid for me." She doesn't know exactly where it comes from, but she has to admit that by now she's almost used to him making her stop thinking altogether. However, it makes her wonder what else this would lead to if she gave up the last bit of control just for a moment.

The faintest hint of a laugh crosses Finnick's lips, even if he honestly doesn't feel like laughing just yet. "Things were actually going quite well before, when I was the problem case and made you worry. I don't think we should swap roles in the middle of this. Let's leave it as it was, I'd prefer that," he replies, and you can at least hear a conciliatory smile in his voice, even if he doesn't trust himself to bring it to his face.

Rhea can't manage it either and instead of a laugh she only manages a short snort. "I don't particularly like it though," she mumbles into his shoulder. Why should one person always have to bear the burden of suffering? Should this really be their fate, or is there not the slightest bit of hope that one day there might simply be nothing but sunshine?

"Then we'll both have to do better." It sounds so easy, but it is actually so difficult to achieve. But a tiny part of him wants to believe that it might at least be possible. It wasn't like that before.

Links to all the chapters: lover/fighter - Chapter Index

fanfiction on ao3 and wattpad

#the hunger games #hunger games #ao3 #finnick odair #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair x reader #finnick x oc #the hunger games x oc #fanfiction #thg finnick #hunger games fanfiction #thg fanfiction #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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elennalore · 1 year

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Devotion (865 words, rated M)

My ficlet for @angbangweek Day 6. Prompt: Temples | Sacrifice.

Characters: Khamûl, Mairon.

Gen with background Melkor/Mairon.

Summary: Young Khamûl spies on the God-King in a temple and becomes his unexpected confidant.

I hope it is still okay to post this for Angbangweek even though it became Khamûl’s origin story in the end! But there is Melkor/Mairon, too.

Read it below or on Ao3.

From his watching place behind one of the pillars, Khamûl saw the foreign man die. He saw the light of the Sun flash from the polished surface of the golden sickle as it cut the air and then – the man’s exposed throat. The foreign man had been screaming a moment before, but now he gave a strange gurgling sound as his blood sprayed onto the altar stone and his life left him. His body, held by two temple servants, twitched once or twice before it went limp and still. In a moment it was over, there was no more blood to offer to the stone; the golden sickle was withdrawn. In absolute silence, the servants bowed and retreated, dragging the body between them. They passed the pillar behind which Khamûl was hiding, but he was lucky, and they didn’t notice him. He dared to exhale only after they had left.

He could not hide from the God-King, however.

“I know you are there. Step forward, boy.”

His heart was pounding with fear, but even though he was just the butcher’s son and not a temple servant, he knew he should not hesitate when the God-King gave him a direct order. So, he came out of his hiding place and took a couple of steps on the mosaic floor, towards the altar. His eyes were fixed on the reddish rays of light on the floor – sunlight was coming through the tinted glass window. Then he remembered his manners and quickly prostrated himself before the God-King, his forehead touching cool mosaic tiles. He could not quite hear his steps, but somehow he knew that the God-King had come nearer.

“Rise.” The voice of the God-King sounded almost amused. Khamûl didn’t dare to look up.

“How long have you been here? How many sacrifices did you see?”

“Nine,” Khamûl admitted. “All of them.”

“And do you think it is enough?”

His eyes averted from a puddle of blood in front of the altar, still dripping down the smooth stone steps. “I don’t know. Perhaps, if it helps?”

The God-King laughed, and it was not a pleasant laugh at all. “If it helps to get him back – indeed! You must think of me as desperate, trying to get him back. And perhaps I am!”

“Never, my King!” Khamûl cried out, horrified. He had seen what the God-King did to heretics. Besides, he was not one. He had seen God-King’s powers and knew that he spoke the truth about the mighty Vala who was betrayed and cast into the Void.

The God-King came to sit down on the altar steps, careful to avoid the spots still dripping with blood, and gestured Khamûl to join him. He hesitated only for a moment. The God-King looked almost vulnerable all of a sudden. Khamûl was both attracted and scared of his attention. He didn’t dare to look on his left where the God-King was seated, a couple of steps higher than him. When a firm hand came to rest on his shoulder, all fear left him, though. He knew that the God-King sought for connection, or maybe a listener.

“I loved him,” The God-King said after a long pause, his voice heavy with emotion. “Melkor made me what I am today. He taught me everything and opened his heart to me. And they took him away from me! They hurt him and pushed him outside the borders of Arda!”

A soft palm, unnaturally warm, cupped Khamûl’s chin and turned his head so that he was forced to meet those strange burning eyes.

“I will do anything to get him back. Do you believe me?”

Khamûl watched the passion burn in the immortal eyes and shivered. “I believe you,” he assured him.

The God-King studied him with great interest. No one had watched Khamûl like that before, as if he had really seen the restless spirit hiding behind his eyes – his true self.

“You don’t fear me.” The words were said in an admiring voice. A little smile flickered across the God-King’s face. “Not like the others.”

To his surprise, Khamûl realized that it was so. He had feared the God-King before –they all did– but now the feeling had changed into something else. “It’s true, my King.”

The God-King cocked an eye at him. “And what do you think of me then?”

Khamûl thought about it. “You have a passionate heart, and you love your Vala a lot.”

The God-King let go of his chin and laughed again, but his laughter sounded less desperate this time.

“I like you, boy. Would you like to come with me when I leave your city? For I must go away one day. There’s more work to do.”

“Yes,” he said without thinking.

The God-King smiled again, and Khamûl wondered if this devotion he felt in his heart was the same the God-King felt towards Melkor. There was a twinkle in his King’s eye as he leaned forward to whisper something in Khamûl’s ear. His ceremonial robes smelled of smoke and ash and blood.

“My real name is Mairon,” he revealed a secret, the first of the many between them, and Khamûl’s heart leapt with unexpected joy.

#Angbangweek2023 #mairon #angbang #khamul #my fic #silm fic #sauron #tar-mairon #khamûl #melkor

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ppoppokari · 11 days

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@redheavenwater

Hello my dear! Thank you so so much for requesting this ship, it was an absolute pleasure to do this for you. You just seem like an absolute sweetheart and you deserve the entire world, this may not be the world but I hope this suffices <3.

Prefacing this ship by saying I'm so passionate about shipping you with Seonghwa. I was scratching the surface about how sweet you were, but I must emphasize how sweet you are. Even though you are very reserved and a bit cold, you were correct in the fact that others see it as more of a peaceful aura. You remind me of Hongjoong but lacking the harsh and bold mannerisms that he possesses. In a way shipping you with Seonghwa is just appealing to his needs too. See it like this, we all know how much love he has for Hongjoong right?

Then it’s a no brainer that he would fall hook line and sinker for someone who demonstrates such gentle tendencies despite seeming a little intimidating, he loves the idea of someone having strength in areas where he himself is reserved and displays a strong parental streak. He knows you aren’t Hongjoong and he doesn't expect you to be him either, he just feels like he has found another person who he can relax around. Not long after meeting Seonghwa you would have gotten the full, uncensored version of him, the cuddly, sentimental side.

I’ve painted a picture wherein Seonghwa is the only one feeling those heavy feels but that is not the case. Even if you don’t necessarily voice how you’re feeling, especially in the early days of your relationship, he can pretty much confirm that you are in love with him by the way you speak to him. Oh my god this really gets Seonghwa going, the fact that you treat him so gently even though you seem quite intimidating and serious. In short Seonghwa falls on the ‘see’s-you-as-a-warm-peaceful-hug’ side of the spectrum. Even though Seonghwa has his silly haha joking moments both of you have such a peaceful and pleasant relationship. Many things contribute to the calm, collected nature of your relationship but something that really sets the scene is the mass amounts of respect that you have for one another. I know this sounds really domestic and serious but it’s actually quite beautiful, see it this way: Seonghwa has many people in his life who prefer silence to recharge or just escape from it all, the number one contender being Hongjoong, which means Seonghwa knows how to aid in creating a quiet place where you can sit in silence and when you’re ready you can come back and rest your head on his lap as you watch tv. Seonghwa really does treat you like his treasure during these moments.

And this is where it gets sappy. You hold so much in your heart; you may think that your just your average person going through life, but to Seonghwa you are far from average. For one you have such pure intentions in life, most of what you do is intended to have a resounding affect on other people, you want people to find safety and happiness in what you create for them. Seonghwa can’t help but admire you for even having such values, you really are so deep and genuinely kind, and he feels so proud of himself for being able to live up to your standards. The reality of the matter is that you are everything Seonghwa dreams about and he is actually a little scared of not being enough for you, but you prove him wrong time and time again.

It's all of the small things with him, dancing together, watching documentaries with you, painting with you (even though he winds up with more paint on his sleeves than anywhere else), yet it doesn’t feel small to him. Your relationship matters so much to him, and he wants to protect it, protect you. So as he holds you and glides his fingers across your tattoos he reminds himself that he has found his soulmate. He found home.

#kpop ships #kpop matchups #written ships #ateez #the best aesthetic i've ever done wtf

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demiclar · 11 months

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New Light

When Osiris slips into doubt, Saint reminds him that he is worthy of sacrifices, and that his happiness is worth anything.

( New Light - AO3 )

“This is exciting, is it not?”

Osiris glances back from the pilot’s seat of his ship, his hands steady on the controls as Saint makes his way towards the cockpit.

“What?” He asks, looking back at his partner. “Wasting your time following me all the way across the system because I cannot spare a moment from my station? Yes, it sounds exhilarating.”

A layer of sarcasm weighs heavy over his words, and Osiris can feel Saint's frown even without looking at him.

“Osiris,” Saint chides. He seats himself in the copilot’s chair and waits as Osiris guides them up to warp speed, then engages the autopilot. Saint sets a hand on his arm once he’s released the controls, meeting his eyes seriously. “You, my love, are a pleasure. Never a waste of time.”

His mood, chipper, seemingly delighted to be coming with Osiris, only tempers momentarily. Osiris can see the pleasant warmth that still lingers despite his momentary disappointment, and he feels guilt bubble up to the surface at saying the words aloud.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, pulling his eyes from Saints to look at the light streaking past the ship’s windows. “I thought you might be frustrated that I cannot find more time for you.”

“You are frustrated.” Saint concludes, and Osiris nods. He reaches out to take Saint’s hand off his arm, holding it in both of his.

“I wanted to have forever with you.” He runs his thumbs over the seams in Saint’s fingers, the bends covered by flexible silicone. He traces them with his eyes as well as his touch. Even the most minute parts of Saint’s body, he still finds beautiful, even now. “Now, I don’t have forever, and I still can’t seem to find the time to be with the man I love. It’s not the future I had hoped for us.”

When he lifts his eyes to Saint’s face, his partner is smiling at him, his plates turned up in a soft, warm expression, full of love and comfort.

“We cannot control our futures, my love. We can only make do with what we have.” He pulls Osiris’ hands into his lap. “You found what you were looking for on Neptune. Purpose, light. I know you love me, Osiris, but you need more than I can give you to keep you going, and to keep you happy.”

“This,” Saint nods to the ship around them, “is a compromise.” His free hand comes up to cradle Osiris’ cheek, his touch almost unbearably soft. “And for your happiness, it is a compromise I am more than willing to make.”

Osiris can’t quite meet his gaze. It’s true that his time on Neptune has been rewarding. He still aches for what he’s lost, and there are still days where he feels hopeless, adrift and alone in everything. It’s hard to be so far from Saint and all he finds familiar, and yet he feels useful where he is. Nimbus is coming to trust him, to rely on him. His studies are bearing more fruit, his being feels lighter, the throes of his depression gradually slipping away. He finds himself struggling less, to sleep, to eat, to rise from his bunk, to set aside his studies. Still, with every moment away from Saint there is a piece of him that remembers the future he glimpsed when he believed he was to die at the High Celebrant’s hand, a piece of him that screams that he could lose everything at any moment, and that he should be trying harder, letting Saint finally be enough for him.

He feels himself suddenly overcome with an onslaught of emotion, and he sniffles quietly. “You never demand so much of me.”

“Now you are being intentionally dense.”

He can hear Saint look away from him, the gesture exaggerated as one might move while they were rolling their eyes and Osiris whips his head up in indignation. He meets Saint’s eyes, his mouth open to protest, but Saint smiles at him like he’s walked into his partner’s trap.

“You tore time and space apart for me, Osiris.” Saint leans closer, serious once more, no longer teasing, or provoking. “You disobeyed the very laws of the universe for me. Why?”

“Because,” Osiris swallows. Saint has always been better at expressing his affection, at making his feelings known and clear, but Osiris has been trying. Some part of him roars, desperate to voice his convictions, and he meets Saint’s eyes and holds his gaze. “Because I love you.”

“And I love you.” Saint shifts, sliding closer, until he can press his forehead to Osiris’, his hand coming up to cradle his cheek again. “So you must know, there is nothing I would not do to be with you.”

“But are you happy?”

He can’t keep the doubt down. It festers like an infection, spilling out of his every pore, but Saint takes him in stride, calming all the writhing fears within him.

“Yes, my love. Happier than I have been in a long while.”

Still, doubt churns in his gut. He looks down, to the hand Saint still holds in his lap. He swallows hard. Through Strand, he can feel the threads that link him and Saint together. Their beings are a braided chain, they divulge and return, divulge and return until everything they are seems wrapped in the other. No matter how far Osiris strays, Saint has been with him in the past, and he will be with him again. The love Saint has for him, his eternal patience, his constant warmth pulses through his power, through his very existence like a beating heart. When Osiris manipulates the Strand with his partner so close, he can feel that love. He can wrap it around his fingers and feel the heartbeat of Saint’s affections as tangibly as he can touch his lover’s body. But he is not immune to doubt, and his recent trials have made him far from immune to fear.

“Even when I cannot spend my time with you? When I stay away for so long?”

“Even then.” He reaches out, gently lifting Osiris’s chin to meet his eyes. “You are doing what makes you happy, Osiris, finding what makes life worth living. It’s true that I miss you when you are gone, but I would rather manage compromises like this than the darkness we would find if we were unwilling to make them.”

Osiris lets out his breath slowly, letting Saint’s words ring true in his body and mind. Saint leans forward, pressing his lips to Osiris’ gently. Osiris leans into the kiss, his hand coming up to hold the back of Saint’s head. He presses their foreheads together when they pull apart, letting his eyes slip closed.

“Thank you.” He whispers. Saint just kisses him again, and Osiris feels his nerves begin to melt out of him, smiling softly into Saint’s lips. “What was it about Neptune that you were so excited about?”

Saint hums, pressing another peck to Osiris’ lips. “I would like to see the city of neon lights. And, I would like to meet your tall Cloud Strider friend.”

“To see if they are actually tall?” It’s a topic of conversation they’ve gone over before, a running joke of Saint’s in which he posits that Nimbus is not actually tall, but rather they just seem so to Osiris.

“Everyone must seem tall to you, my love.”

Osiris huffs a quiet laugh. “Well, I look forward to you discovering that I am right.”

“And I look forward to meeting an average sized Neomunian.”

Osiris’ laugh is soft and warm, and with Saint beside him, the lightness in his heart carries him effortlessly through the remainder of the long flight and beyond.

#destiny osiris #destiny saint 14 #O14 #destiny o14 #season of the deep #destiny fanfiction #June 2023 Writing Challenge #demiwrites

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aphroditesacolyte · 9 months

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Meryl and Diosia

Ch 6. // Plan Reformed // Read on AO3

Masterpost

Summary: Meryl's day out with his best friend, Bondi, becomes suddenly complicated.

Content warnings: Fear/anxiety, profanity (a given in this story lol), drama I suppose

~Approx word count: 1,538 words

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The air was filled with a sense of laughter and reminiscence, a nostalgia pleasant and warm, much like the sunlight spilling into the water. Meryl took in the vibrant fuchsia colour of the scales before him, and how they brightly and playfully struck against the water, splattering some of it across him. He couldn’t retaliate, though, he merely laughed and kept on with their conversation. As always Bondi was so easy to talk to, open, pleasant. They told each-other everything—there was hardly a secret between them, save for just the one thing: Diosia.

He hadn’t the heart to tell Bondi, he didn’t want to pass off that sort of stress. So, it was the one thing he was keeping quiet about. Besides, it was all very contained; Diosia would strictly follow their schedule of seeing one another every two days, and otherwise he wasn’t a problem. Sure, the terrifying idea of visiting and never coming back loomed a little, but he wouldn’t be stopping himself from having to go back by telling Bondi. He’d just make Bondi anxious for him beyond all belief. It was better this way, the way where everyone was perfectly oblivious to the peril he was in, and where everyone was satisfied, content.

The idea of someone being upset or dissatisfied terrified him, too; And that was the wonderful thing about Bondi, that he didn’t have to be scared of upsetting him. Bondi was always so accepting and understanding, it made him feel safe. He was secure with Bondi, and no situation could make that otherwise, as he was a safety haven, a shoulder to cry on and a shield. He was a wonderful friend who didn’t deserve to be burdened with the stress or drama of Diosia’s presence.

Although he had to admit, Diosia was quite pleasant to be around as of late, not even being a little bit cruel, however always ever so slightly menacing, and vague. Either way, Diosia wasn’t someone he needed to worry about with or around Bondi—the two were very pleasantly unrelated and disconnected—and while they spent their time together within the shallow water by the shore (in the middle of the day) it would remain that way.

To his ire, based on the SPLASH sound behind him and the face of concern Bondi had, Diosia had other plans. He let out an exasperated sigh and turned to see a familiar, sly face whose legs were fully submerged in ocean water without a care.

Every.

Damn.

Time.

Couldn’t he enjoy a little time by himself that wasn’t at least 50 feet below the surface? These antics were starting to seem needy.

Diosia’s focus immediately centered on Bondi, and he looked over to his friend to see their sentiments were shared. They both looked as though they were sizing one another up, leaning in and gazing at each-other. Bondi’s brows were furrowed in concern, and he moved closer to Meryl, protectively.

Bondi broke the silence.

“What do you want?” Bondi questioned Diosia, subtly grabbing onto Meryl and pulling him away from Diosia as he asked.

Bondi’s voice carried a lot of spunk, which seemed to fuel deep, rich, eerie laughter.

“Oh—“ even within the water Diosia managed to prowl, curving around and inadvertently pressing them up against the shore. “—I’m simply here to discuss matters with my lovely companion,” He gestured to the mer in question. “Meryl.”

The distrust and distaste in Bondi’s expression was immediate after he huffed a dry laugh in response.

Diosia tilted his head, a smile still sharp as ever as he questioned, “Why, haven’t you told your friend of me, Meryl?”

Meryl shook his head. “I uh… here—I’ll introduce you guys. Bondi,” he said and looked to him before setting his gaze on Diosia. “This is Diosia, and Diosia, this is Bondi.”

Diosia came closer and peered. “Why, he looks like he’d make a lovely snack while you and I chat.”

“That’s not very friendly, Diosia.” Meryl scolded.

Bondi simply crossed his arms, a slightly amused smirk on his face. “Try me, big guy.”

Diosia practically lit up at the remark, and slowly sauntered up to them both before leaning in, staring at Bondi closely. Bondi reciprocated, eyes bold and equally narrowed on Diosia as the two seemed to test one another. Meryl almost leapt between them as Diosia began to pounce, but Bondi’s reaction time was much quicker, and much more clever. Diosia gasped and stumbled back, having been struck directly in the gut by a precisely aimed tail, as his wings flapped and he tried to gain back his balance. For just a moment he hunched over with a slight wince—so strangely vulnerable—before he stood up fully and smiled once more, recovered.

Bondi’s smirk was a little smug. “Shoulda been scarier. I wouldn’t have felt emboldened.”

Meryl stared between the two of them, feeling dreadfully helpless. He had no control over Diosia, and no reason to tell Bondi not to defend himself but… Bondi really was being too bold. He was always bold. Diosia took it as a challenge.

“Very well,” Diosia said with a somewhat dramatic turn as he moved himself a little distance away and paced, or more so treaded, through the water. After a moment he added, tauntingly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bondi’s mumbled-whisper crept into his ears. “Who the fuck is this guy?”

“I’ll explain later,” he answered briefly before turning to Diosia. “Is there something you need?”

“Ah, yes.” Diosia laughed a little. “I apologize, I got rather distracted.”

Meryl smiled sweetly. “It’s alright, it’s just… I’m pretty sure we agreed to only meet every two days, and I just saw you last night so…”

“I know, I know—and I truly do apologize Meryl, it’s simply that something’s been weighing on my mind as of late.”

Bondi smiled amusedly and then mockingly replied, “Oh?”

Unlike him, it was fairly clear Bondi had no time for Diosia’s… antics.

Diosia’s eyes narrowed on Bondi for a moment before he discarded whatever thought he might’ve had and continued on, “As for our visits, I’d much rather them stop. I was wrong, and I most certainly should not treat anyone in such a way. I hope perhaps one day you’ll forgive me, but as of now simply know you are free and we mustn’t see each-other anymore.”

Meryl’s eyes widened in shock, and Bondi took it as his invitation to hurriedly shoo Diosia away. He sat there, frozen, unable to take it in as their bickering became a background noise until Diosia disappeared. He didn’t move a muscle until Bondi urged him to speak.

“H-huh?” He murmured, still half-submerged in a shocked daze.

Bondi moved in front of him. “Explain.”

The demand somewhat snapped him out of it, but now his mind rushed for the words.

“Uh… what do you want to know?”

“Oh, what do I want to know?” Bondi repeated with a sassy bob of his head. “Mmmm, let me think, that’s a hard one…”

Meryl laughed a little, out of both nervousness and good humor. “I’ll explain it simply: I met Diosia, the next night he saved me from a group of fishermen—“ as he spoke on Bondi looked… somewhere between immensely concerned and appalled, jolting back slightly. “—and then I thought we’d never see each-other again because I wasn’t gonna go out at night anymore but then he found me during the day and…“

The rambling went on until eventually Meryl had gone through just about everything he could (although he certainly skipped a few of the… worse details) and had given an answer to every question Bondi could ask.

“So… he’s an asshole.” Bondi concluded in such a plain, blunt way, like a mere step forward as opposed to the five miles Meryl was just forced to run.

Meryl shrugged a little, hesitantly.

“Well, I mean not completely…” he trailed off.

Bondi nodded. “Right.”

Meryl quietly, sheepishly repeated, “Right.”

Finally, Bondi smiled, somewhat gently.

“Meryl, I’m not mad at you.”

“I… I know.”

Bondi surged forward and gave him a steadying hug before he tenderly withdrew.

“On the bright side, it sounds like he got bored so you don’t have to worry about him anymore. HOWEVER,” Bondi looked to him sharply with a pointed finger. “Don’t you go above the surface or by the shore alone. Just ‘cause he probably moved onto someone tastier doesn’t mean he won’t come back for you later.”

Meryl frowned, to which Bondi paused for a moment.

“You don’t… think he actually did that to be nice, do you?”

He couldn’t reply, and so Bondi gently sighed and moved on.

“Let’s just… keep our distance from creatures specifically designed to eat us, yeah?”

Meryl nodded in agreement, a break would from Diosia would be good. “Yeah. I’ll stay safe Bondi, I promise.”

Bondi smiled kindly once more. “Then c’mon,” he came up to his side and playfully jabbed him with an elbow. “We can celebrate your new found freedom.” He teased.

Meryl laughed slightly, “Alright, alright. Let’s just focus on something else now.”

And so, they did.

However, they were both a little wrong. It was far from over.

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<- <;- <- Last Part | Next Part -> -> ->

#original characters #original writing #acolyte's stories: meryl and diosia #fantasy writing #oc story #romance writing #oc: diosia #oc: meryl #original story #merfolk oc #siren oc #oc writing #original fiction #story writing #my wip

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luneevenfall · 9 months

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Camp nano 20-22

You may ask "mina, why are you doing three in one day?" and the answer is "two of them is 100% porn so I can't post excerpts"

Instead, have this excerpt from the story about Cecil and Stella; the story of Stella, a young married woman who escapes into a pocket dimension to escape the ennui of her daily life and meets a mysterious genderfuck spirit named Cecil

They discover intimacy and connection in each other!

Looking back, it had simply been a case of her unbound curiosity. A way to get away from the ennui of her daily life. When Stella had said her goodnights to her husband, she had waited in her room for everything to go quiet; they had not been sleeping in the same room since the wedding night. It had not really mattered to her. She had donned a robe over her silk nightgown as she walked the halls in the dark, led only by a single candle. Yes, her grandmother had said that it would only appear in the dead of night. When she had asked her mother about it, she said that it had just been the ramblings of a dying woman, but they had struck a chord with Stella. Really, if there was a place where they could escape, even for a little bit, when she wouldn’t have to be stuck in this dead-end marriage, where she would be free to exist, she would take the chance on it being some frenzied ramblings. However, she was soon to discover that those words had not been just the feverish delusions of a woman in her twilight years. As she traced the walls with her fingers, over the wood and wallpaper, they came upon an unfamiliar-feeling surface. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there. At first, it simply looked like more wall, but it was as if the sensation in her hand changed her visual perception, for out of nowhere, a door came into view; it was unlike any of the other doors in their mansion, ornate and ancient, embellished with what looked like leaves; she couldn’t tell if they were fake or real. They certainly smelled like real leaves. Finding the handle in the dark, she pushed open the door, and a warm, pleasant breeze brushed against her cheeks, contrasted heavily to the cold wind of the night. She was immediately drawn in, and what she saw, she could not have anticipated. Her grandmother had referred to it as a “room”, but frankly, Stella found that to be quite a misrepresentation of what she was seeing. It was as if they were outside; or maybe, they were in the sky? It was bright as midday, and in the middle of the space was a sizeable pool of water outfitted with several stone pillars. Upon the stone pillars were protrusions much like benches where people could sit. But there was no one there, not that she could see. Beyond the pool were what looked like windows; and on either sides, there were doors that led further in. She had no idea for how long this area continued. She wandered a bit curiously after putting out her candle. The room was bathed in perpetual warm light, making the candle wholly obsolete.

I have a lot of fun with these fantasy descriptions :D

#camp nano july 2023 #camp nanowrimo #camp nano update #my ocs #original character #oc #sapphic #sapphics #lgbtq+#my writing #lesbian #nonbinary

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spookymonthcultau · 11 months

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- "Mommy, mommy! I want tonight's bedtime story to be about your past, please!"With a smile, Skid asked Lila, restlessly fidgeting in bed, to which she took her son in her arms with a grin.- “Okay, son, I hope this really puts you to sleep!”Gently stroking Skid's hair, Lila sinks into memories while still holding on to a slight smile.For as long as I can remember, there have always been three of us. Me, Jaune and Frank. And our favorite place was "Boys & Grills". Frank was very fond of food from there, but Jaune and I rarely took a snack, because the food was there ... - the woman shudders slightly. - not too tasty, to be honest... But it doesn't matter! There was another reason that pulled me to this place like a magnet, its name was Bob Velseb. I remember him as an incredibly tall, chubby man who was pleasant to hug with a soft and low voice, although, according to Jaune, he sounded like a maniac, but I guess such associations were caused by her impressionable character. At that time, on my initiative, we watched a lot of horror films, thrillers or documentaries. Jaune said it was boring crap and Frank said it was just boring. And I had a passion for it. Why? Hah, it's not for nothing that I mentioned Mr. Velseb. I don’t know why, but as a little me, creepy stories about mystical monsters or about those horrors that are quite real ... ohNoticing that under her expressive stories Skid had long fallen asleep, with a warm smile she puts the boy on a soft sheet and covers him with a blanket, kisses him gently on the forehead, leaving the bedroom.Dropping into the living room, she picks up a piece of photography. There was definitely symbolism in it. If the incision of the abdomen during hara-kiri is the liberation of the soul, then tearing this image is an attempt to free your mind. Clear your crappy head of memories. Memories that rudely and obsessively pushed her into the bottomless abyss of oblivion. Regret. She was gnawed by regret. Throwing crumpled paper into the trash bin, she grabs her head with her hands, as if wanting to scalp herself.She was a stupid and naive fool... things could have been different! But it will never be again... Passion and affection for Bob paid off and the day before he was arrested, Lila received a medallion as a gift, which, according to Velseb, on the day of the age of consent, will open a new world for the girl. A world where Lila will have everything a person dreams of. He didn't lie. Huge power is really the dream of anyone, even those who have never talked about it. Has she ever been mayor? No, no, no, what is a mayor when a cult is at the helm. The cult kept the city under tension and total control. Lila was lucky to rise to a high position, thanks to the knowledge that a murdered cannibal inadvertently invested in her. Therefore, she could fully taste the sweet called: "real power." It was terrible! Worst decision ever! The most vile and disgusting! That's what she would now say about her entry into the cult, but worse than that, it could only be going against the cult. And Lila felt what it was like in her own skin, however, she understood that the storm had just begun and the calm had long since come to an end. Bob Velseb was probably nothing more than a pawn, which only slightly intimidated the woman. Cold sweat streamed down her forehead from full awareness of what was happening, she did not feel her fingertips, they were numb from animal fear for their child. Skid is still quite a crumb, and therefore it can be easily harmed. The body was shaking, breathing was heavy, there were tears in the eyes. Only the desire to keep her child's restful sleep kept her from bursting into tears at full strength and hysterical screams and blows on accessible surfaces. However, suddenly there was a knock on the door. The heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment. Lila froze, listening to the silence that hung after this knock, then a dull voice was heard: ...

#skid and pump #spooky month #fanfic #alternate universe #sr pelo #au #lila spooky month #skid spooky month

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dannobfg · 1 year

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I should quit. I should take as much time as I need to feel right again. I should escape capitalism somehow. I should take my friends with me.

I cried again today. Not too long because it's not worth it.

I'm so fucking tired. I'm always tired. And right now, I'm also sick.

I'm overworked. I'm saturated. I'm at breaking point. Or perhaps I'm already broken. To be honest I don't think I can tell the difference anymore.

My body aches. My mind screams. There's pain that is unseen, misunderstood.

I don't know who I am anymore, if I ever did.

I don't know who I want to be. I don't know what I want.

I'm dissatisfied. Nothing is enough. Yet everything is also somehow too much.

I exist in this paradox. Frozen. Still. Stuck. But wanting so desperately to break free.

I'm caught in the middle, between two sheets of transparent glass. They're squashing me to death. I can't breathe.

I'm in space. Floating. It's quiet. Why is it so bright? I thought it would be dark. I'm under a spotlight, blinded. I can't see forward, can't see back. There's only light where I am. Here, then, now, ahead. Everything is happening all at once.

I'm spinning. Round and round and round and round. Perpetual motion. I'm dizzy. My sight is blurry. Where am I going?

The never ending cycle. Faster and faster. Nothing to slow me down.

Not unless I crash. Crash, smash, burn. Tear it all down. Break it up. Destroy it. Finish it. Do it. Do it. Do it!

It's done.

I walk the rocky surface. A weight lifted. There is air. It is fresh. I feel free. I'm alive. Space. Such a peculiar feeling. Long forgotten yet whose memory never left. I'd forgotten till I remembered.

Pleasant walk on the moon. Peace. Silence. Happy.

It's strange. It's cold but I don't feel it.

I'm floating. Free. Lite. Lifeless.

I panic.

I see myself on the rock. I'm drifting away. Further and further.

I'm just a spot in the distance now. Soon I'll be gone too.

What is left? This mind of mine. Broken. Weary. Floating alone.

It feels like water. Black. Cold. There's no light yet I can see. There's me. Me and the black.

I make a ripple in the water with my fingertip. I have a body again it seems.

Plop. On and on and on. Wave after wave.

Everything is speeding up again. I'm being flushed backwards. Back to my body, back to myself. It's rewinding. I hear the ticking of a clock. Then the sound of a gong. Gong after gong after gong. It's like an alarm.

I wake up. A pool of sweat. My sheets are wet. I am warm. I am weak. It's late.

Was it all a dream? It felt so real.

#consciousness

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the-backspin-alchemist · 4 months

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1, 3, 4

Gonna answer for Jace, Ace, and Rael, and Dave The Gnoll (because Dave the Gnoll has been a very fun character to play lately

1) Do they get cold easily?

Almost universally no. Jace is sued to being out in the wild, and knows how to keep very warm with minimal effort, Ace has similar survival training and 31st Century futuretech in his outfits to keep him comfortable, and Rael is a Darkling.

Darklings don’t do the whole “warm or cold is biologically uncomfortable” thing, since they’re more or less living incarnations of void.

Oh, and Dave the Gnoll is a gnoll, so he has, like, fur.

And also Dave is also a ranger, so he also knows how to keep warm (or cool) in the wilderness even if he didn’t have fur.

2) How do they warm up when cold?

Ace and Jace both usually make some sort of fire. When that’s not an option, Jace opts for layers and warm drinks, while Ace tends to grab better weather gear for the space he’s in.

Dave usually has fur, and will also start a fire.

Rael doesn’t bother if he’s on his own, because Darklings don’t do temperature, but if need be, he actually has a very limited knowledge of fire/heat magic, and has used it in the past to help keep other guests warm by heating up the air they breathe a bit.

3) Do they wear jumpers (sweaters)? If so do they fit perfectly or are they baggy?

Jace has, kinda, in the past. It’s mostly stuff he’s had to put together to keep warm in the wilds. They tend to be decently form-fitting, because he need to be able to move around.

Ace doesn’t, because sweaters have become more of a fashion statement in the 31st Century due to the way futuretech works in the Space Punks setting, and he doesn’t do the non-edgy fashion thing where he doesn’t look like a space cowboy. (His eventual-girlfriend Robin does, though, and they’re baggy as all heck on her and she looks adorable in them when she’s busy dropping a moon on top of you)

Rael has worn sweaters in the past, but not for the sake of being warm, but for the sake of being hospitable and participating in the culture of the places he’s visited. That’s like his entire thing, is traveling and seeing the universe, and interacting with people because Lilith told him to go do so, and this means that if someone goes “oh you must be cold, here is a jumper” he can’t just go “oh but I don’t get cold so this jumper is unnecessary,” he’s not rude, he’s trying to be friendly and friend accept hospitality when it’s offered so he instead goes “ah yes thank you for this jumper my friend it is quite lovely” (even though he will eventually default to the jacket Zoia got him).

Dave doesn’t do sweaters, they get too many burrs in them as-is and make him too hot.

4) Do they have a favourite hot drink? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Hot cider? If so, how do they take it?

Jace has made his own cider in the past, out in the wilds. He claims his favorite hot drink is tea, despite his most common hot drink being coffee, but it’s not, it’s warm apple cider.

Ace actually really a joy hot chocolate but the only person that knows this is Robin, and it is one of her biggest bits of blackmail material on him against Clair specifically (since Artemis knows enough embarrassing/bad things about Ace already that him liking Hot Choccy would just seem normal to her)

Mr. The Gnoll can’t have chocolate, but does enjoy coffee. He has to be soaring with it, though, because it makes him hyper.

Rael actually really likes manaleaf tea. It’s something he has a personal stash of, because it tastes different every time but is always pleasant (and it actually does the warm-drink-effect thingy for him like it does for us humans, because for Darklings, they usually get surface temperature and that’s about it. Everything else goes past that into Void™️. Manaleaf sticks around.)

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aladaylessecondblog · 5 months

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The smut is done

I have to be up in 5 hours oh lord I hope you guys like it

Holy SHIT this chapter is almost 5,000 words! Fairly vanilla, but oceans of LONGING.

Still mature rated, though

Dagoth Ur/female Dunmer Nerevarine

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Voryn had stood there with her for quite a long time, holding her in silence. He murmured something about having things to do after one point, however, and let go. He turned her around, brought her right hand up, bowed slightly, and pressed the lips of his mask against it.

(This was not the Sharmat she had heard so much evil of.)

He woos as a lover, but he reeks with fear and disgust, the words of Nibani Maesa repeated in her mind, a counter to the pleasant thought.

If he was all evil, if he was all just a being of death and darkness, why did her heart flutter so? Was this Nerevar's influence, or was it some girlish part of her, taken with the tall dark villain everyone had warned her against?

Perhaps it was both.

Do not listen. Do not go to him.

A bit late for that, Sadara thought, as he rose again. Much too late.

"There are a great many things that we have yet to discuss," Voryn said as he stood back to full height, "Make yourself at home, and we can start on it again in the evening."

She didn't look at him, but nodded.

The warmth of his hand, the chill of his mask. Once more she was torn between two feelings. Once more she wondered if there was a middle ground.

Once more she found no answer.

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

Down a corridor she had not before noticed, Voryn directed her, before turning back to the Heart Chamber himself.

Several rooms were back here, several she would never have thought WOULD be. At its end was what she had chosen first. The somewhat cramped (surely it must be so for him, she thought) space of the corridor opened up and into a cavernous room. Only the initial area appeared to be lit with torches, while nearer to the water there were more of the red candles she had come to associate with him and his followers.

Steam rose from its surface, and where the warmth of the Heart Chamber had been oppressive, this was more soothing. There was a strange feeling of familiarity here, but she had been having to deal with such things for some time now. Everything carried that sense of deja vu with it. It was almost tiring to feel it so often.

She set aside her bags, and took out a few strips of nix-hound jerky and a somewhat overripe ash yam to make a small breakfast. She washed it down with a bit of mazte.

On a whim, and needing something mindless to do that would allow her to think over things, she took out the small washboard and soap from the clothes bag, then headed to the water with the garments she'd worn in the last few days.

After stripping off the last layer, she set about washing her clothes. What she hung them on to dry was the tent frame she'd brought with her--there was hardly enough room, but she wanted clean clothes when she got out of the water. It wasn't as if damp robes would cause her to catch cold here anyway, not with how warm it was.

I've crossed a line, I know I have. SEVERAL lines. No, forget that, I've crossed a couple of provinces and possibly a realm of Oblivion doing what I did.

Sadara wanted to stay, to see if it was possible to pull Voryn back from the brink. And--if such a thing WAS possible, it would take time. Getting here had been a hard enough journey, but he had been plotting this vengeance of his for an entire era.

As she ran her armor over the washboard she grumbled to herself under her breath.

"What makes you think you can change anything?"

Indeed, what DID make her think she could?

One drunken night where she had indulged in...admittedly something very cathartic. In the haze of memory from last night, that was one of the few clear things. That what had happened was the way that it should be, that with him was where she belonged. She had never felt like that before, not at any point in her journey.

Home was not in the Empire.

How was not in Morrowind.

Home was with Voryn.

Maybe, she thought, it was because she knew what it was to be alone. Leyawiin wasn't a bad place, but the Count did not much care for those who were not themselves Imperial. And no one here in Morrowind cared much for her beyond what she could do for them, no matter how much like them she was. That she was Dunmer didn't matter, she was not from Morrowind so she was an outsider.

Voryn's dreams had been the first time she had ever felt welcomed here, and though she knew things were not ideal the hope that some part of (Nerevar's) her past could be preserved still persisted.

"Gods above, Nerevar, this is all your fault," Sadara groaned, "If you hadn't longed for the touch of your closest friend, I probably wouldn't be thinking this right now. Oh yes, you wanted to see what was under the loincloth, so I had to as well."

(But really, there was an element of her own desire in it. She'd had a bite of the forbidden fruit, and that taste made her want more.)

But really, was it all Nerevar, if SHE was Nerevar?

Was I ever me?

It made her head hurt, and she had just gotten over a headache! So shoving the thoughts aside she went back to scrubbing at her clothes, until she'd gotten through the lot of them. The armor and clothes were hung up on the tent poles and string she'd brought with her. She could finally get into the water herself.

It would have been too hot for most, and had her for the first time thanking the Divines she was a Dunmer. It felt hot, certainly, but not too much so. Sinking into that water was like enveloping herself a steaming hug. Every muscle in her body was relaxed by the dip.

The seat she initially chose was too far down--maybe the one Voryn used when he came here. IF he came here, she thought then. Certainly if she had a home with such a place she'd be in it every damn day.

She sank lower into the water, until it covered her shoulders.

I could fall asleep like this, she thought.

Still, her mind insisted on ruining things.

What if Azura is right? What if last night was just to lull me into a false sense of security, the more easily to be rid of me when he decides it's time? Really, what reason does he have to assume I've joined him and the Sixth House?

But surely if Voryn had meant to kill her, he would have done it during their...interlude...the previous night. It would have been easy, she was addled by drink and indulgence in what Nerevar seemed to hope for...or what he had once hoped for...

She'd been sure, though, that he had enjoyed it as much as she had. If he had some plan, he might have been persuaded by...what had happened...to put it off for a little while. But then, she thought a moment later, he could ALSO have done it when she had stood on the edge of the rock not half an hour ago. He had had the easiest possible opportunity to kill her, and yet he hadn't done it.

What if he still meant to? What if he thought she had Wraithguard, and...

Just stop. Please. Just stop. Let me enjoy this.

Her mind went silent then, and after a quick sort of bath she luxuriated once again in the feeling of the hot water.

Sadara was so relaxed she failed to notice someone entering the room...though she DID notice the sound of footsteps as they neared. She jolted up, covering her chest as she looked to see who had come. And despite the heat of the water, she felt a chill when seeing the source of the noise.

Beside the makeshift drying rack she'd made for her damp clothes stood an ash ghoul. She remembered this one--she'd passed it on the way into the chamber where she had first encountered--Voryn.

Oh, by the Nine--

Her sword was five feet away, and she couldn't reach for it, not without giving the thing a show. Then again, it didn't seem to have any eyes...still, modesty battled with fear as she stared at it, and it (apparently) stared back.

It lifted its hands, and for a moment Sadara braced for whatever attack it would throw at her.

Rustling fabric.

The ash ghoul was holding some sort of red and black robe in its hand, and was shaking it out. It made a growling noise and bobbed its head.

"You're only trying to talk to me," she said, indicating she was paying attention. "Right?"

Again, a bob of its head. It lifted the fabric.

"You want me to take that?"

Its head bobbed several times, as clear a yes as she could possibly expect.

"I can't--I--don't have anything on. You can leave it there."

It made a strange growling noise, but did as she asked and left the room. Once Sadara was sure it had properly left (but keeping an eye on the door as she got out of the water) she went to see what exactly it was that the thing had left. A moment before reaching down she realized her hair was still sopping wet, and turned to wring it out a few steps away. It hung over the left side of her head and fell onto her left shoulder, at least not dripping wet now.

She picked up the fabric the ash ghoul had brought.

It felt like fine silk, and was all in red and black. As she turned it over she saw in the collar a continuous line of the beetle-like sigil of House Dagoth in gold thread. She had only ever seen such garments at a distance, on nobles and wealthy merchants. Garments like these belonged to people of importance, people to whom she would play her lute and hope they were generous enough to toss her a few gold.

Sadara ran her hands over the fabric, and brought it up to her cheek. It felt even better against her face.

But he is the Father of Lies, and thinks to trick you with his gifts, the words of Nibani Maesa suddenly intruded in her mind. Do not listen.

Surely it could not hurt to at least try it on...

She slipped into the robe after drying herself off a little more, and while it was a little too long--sweeping the floor, its sleeves a few inches past her hands, one shoulder or the other slipping no matter how much she shifted it about--it was still a thing of beauty, lovely even just to touch. There was a faint smell of incense about it, too, like cinnamon and cloves and smoky wood. She inhaled the scent, and suddenly a memory rose in her mind.

Really, Voryn, for me? You shouldn't have. It's so delicate, I'm almost afraid I'll tear it.

Oh.

It was Nerevar's, it must have been, or something Voryn had once given to him. Perhaps he thought it only right to give to her, considering.

(If he meant to kill you, would he really give any gifts?)

Maybe what she hoped was possible. At the very least, what she had been told would happen by nearly everyone certainly had NOT happened.

Sadara pulled her lute from one of her bags and idly began to pluck at it. She wasn't entirely sure what she was feeling at the moment, and any difficult situation she'd encountered usually ended in such a manner. Little tunes being played out in calm order, while her mind moved about seeking answers for one thing or another. Practice AND thinking, an ideal situation for one who made a living with their instrument.

She realized halfway through a third set that she had fallen into playing "Spirit of the Volcano."

Voryn was on her mind, even when she wasn't thinking about him. Once more she sarcastically thanked Nerevar. Had he never had that lingering thought...

In such a way, breaking twice for lunch and dinner, did the time pass away. She mostly thought on the situation at hand and plucked at the lute, but she looked over the notes and prophecies that had brought her here as well. Dragonborn and far star marked...well that was obvious. She was born in the Empire, and had been born under the sign of the Thief. Outlander incarnate...that part was also obvious. Nearly everyone here called her outlander, and it had by now been well proved that she was indeed Nerevar come again.

But what did I come again for, if I'm still dallying about being indecisive like this?

Heroes made up their minds. Heroes knew what they were about. They were the ones who made the hard decisions. THEY were the ones who set to rights old ills. They didn't dither about wringing their hands about what to do from one point to another.

"You can't even decide whether or not he means to kill you," she murmured under her breath to herself, "Let alone whether or not you will slay him."

A pit seemed to form in her stomach at the idea, though, and another thought rose soon after. While there is a chance to help him, could you really say you would do it?

No.

The answer was no.

And suppose there was no chance? Suppose you knew for absolute certain he would not kill you, and yet there was no hope of change?

There wasn't a definite answer there...but she found herself leaning in the direction of no. Whatever had taken hold of him--Voryn was still there, and it would be wonderful to see more of him.

You already saw all of him, she thought wryly, a moment later. Quite literally.

With the help of a couple spells her clothes and armor finished drying soon after this line of thought. She tucked away her clothes, picked up her bags, and headed back into the corridor.

For a moment she considered simply leaving. But the tight feeling in her chest that resulted from the thought instantly persuaded her against that course of action.

There were two rooms linked in the corridor itself, and she looked into the one on her right. Or left from the other side, she thought momentarily.

It was relatively empty, though it looked as if it had been recently cleaned. The door could only barely be called such, and seemed clumsily made. There were gaps around all its sides...

In one corner nearest to the door was something she swore was a wardrobe. On opening it she saw a few--towels, maybe?

The farther corner had something like a bed, only there were no sheets or straw or furs. A frame only, really. She put out her bedroll on it, and then sat down on the edge.

What am I doing? What am I DOING?

She was sitting in some back room that--admittedly felt vaguely familiar--was uncomfortably close to the one whom everyone had talked up as the enemy of all Morrowind. She couldn't say the reputation was unjustified, not after all the corprus monsters she'd seen just in Divath Fyr's tower, to say nothing of those behind the Ghostfence. And the blight diseases, too...and the Sleepers she had encountered, who had been pulled under his influence and had spoken to her about joining him.

Sadara realized she was fiddling with the moon-and-star, and promptly stopped, setting her hands down on the wooden frame of the bed beside her that was uncovered by her bedroll.

Yet here I am, wearing his colors and sitting in a room in HIS volcano. The morning after--

Deep breath.

Moments from last night appeared in her mind--his face before her, after that first kiss, utterly confused that she'd done it. The way his look had changed by the time she turned around to face him. The look into his eyes as he opened her robe, especially, and she felt a brief shiver at the idea of how full of intent they were. The almost feral way he'd growled as he'd pushed into her--

Stop thinking about it. You need to STOP.

Sadara took another deep breath, stood up--and winced as a splinter of wood from the bed frame dug into her hand and dragged from her thumb's joint across to that of her middle finger. She brought her hand up to look at it; the wound wasn't exactly deep. But it was bleeding. She cast a healing spell, hoping to seal it up quickly--

--but nothing happened. Another try with the same spell, and nothing happened.

She reached into one of her bags for a healing potion, thinking maybe she'd done something wrong, maybe focused improperly. But guzzling a healing potion didn't close up the wound either. Sighing, she reached into another bag for a length of bandage fabric, with which she dabbed at the trickle of blood.

It was then that he entered the room, and she had no courage to look up at him.

"Something wrong?"

"It's nothing. I cut my hand on a splinter and--it won't heal."

Voryn moved closer, and extended a hand to her. "Let me see it."

After a moment's hesitation and a third attempt at the healing spell, she stood and gave him her hand.

"Strange," he mused as he looked at the cut. "That you should fail to close so small a wound."

"It happened this morning with my...hangover headache, too. I just assumed I just couldn't concentrate because of the hangover."

"Clearly, someone is upset with you." Voryn placed his other hand over hers and after a moment's focus pulled it away again. The cut was now closed, and all that remained of it was the dried blood in her palm. "But I can assure you that it isn't me."

"I--" Sadara stumbled over the word, but recovered and moved on, "--I suppose you want to go on with that talk you...that you mentioned earlier."

"I do, Nerevar."

She had been looking up, but on hearing the name immediately looked back down.

"Is something wrong?"

"It's just--" Sadara took another deep breath. "--I know I'm Nerevar reborn. I KNOW I am. But...it seems that that's all I am in Morrowind."

Stop talking, for the love of the Nine!

"What do you mean?" Voryn's voice was soft, almost...gentle.

"No one cared who I was until I put on the ring. Then...the temple I'd cooperated with up until that point..."

"They branded you an enemy," Voryn finished for her. "The false gods are ever watchful for Nerevarines, and not for the first time have they acted thus with one. Simply by existing, you are a danger to them. A threat to their power."

"I never asked for this. I didn't want it," Sadara went on, "They kidnapped me in the middle of the night from Leyawiin, dragged me here, and then I'm told I'm some reincarnated hero, and--and the fresh start I'd hoped I might get was right out the window. I mattered, in all the ways I used to daydream about--who doesn't want to be a hero, after all? At least with the dreams, I felt..."

His head tilted a bit and despite being unable to see his face, she could feel his interest in how she would finish the sentence. She stared at the empty eyes of the mask for a few moments, still stumbling over her words.

"I felt like..."

"Like what?" he prompted.

"I felt welcomed." Sadara took a deep breath.

For all the suffering the blight diseases caused, for all the evil of which he was the source, it was the first time she had ever felt wanted anywhere.

"I know you want Wraithguard. I know...I know of your plans, but...at least you softened the blow of what you wanted, acted nicely, treated me like I was someone, instead of only some tool to be used for your purposes."

Why are you pouring your heart out to him? You need to stop!

Her mind was screaming at her, and yet her mouth wouldn't obey.

"I know that's the only value I have to anyone in Morrowind. The Nerevarine. Everyone I meet has something they want of me as a result, some errand they want done. I'm not Sadara, I'm Nerevar, or a thing to be lead about, to..."

She walked past him, in the direction of the door.

"Sadara..." He spoke as if he were testing the word out. Gods, how sweet it was to hear her name from his lips, not merely 'Nerevar.'

"Azura certainly makes it clear. Every day that you still live she is in my ear, scolding me for not 'having mercy' on you. Go to Vivec, she says, get Wraithguard, return, and...and..."

Her voice cracked and she choked up.

"And what?"

"And kill you." She gulped, and stared at the door. Feeble wood. She could easily put her fist through it, she was sure. "I don't want to kill you, Voryn. I don't want things to get to that point. After--after everything that's--"

She forced herself to turn back in his direction.

"Are you afraid I will act against you?" his tone stayed soft as he walked forward. "Perhaps she whispers that I mean you harm? That at any second, your life will end at my hand?"

"Something like that."

"Well." He gave half a chuckle at that. "So long as you do not raise a weapon against me, I can assure you that that will not be the case."

"You don't know what a relief it is to hear that." Sadara gulped slightly. She felt--raw, exposed almost, as if she were baring herself more to him than she had even the previous night. "Because the idea of losing everyone...again...I don't know that I could bare it. The prophecy called for a nobody with nothing going for them, and that I certainly was. I was alone until Morrowind."

Another pause.

"Until you."

The words wouldn't stop pouring from her mouth, and when she finally stopped she felt the fear of losing him.

You barely know him, how can this be so painful? Nerevar. This is you...you, and me, both. You're as afraid of losing everything as I am, if you even exist separate from me.

Her thoughts began to race, and she sucked in a sharp and shaky breath in an effort to avoid shedding tears.

She shut her eyes.

A moment later his hands were on her face, his thumbs wiping away an errant tear or two that happened to fall.

His nails pricked at her eyebrows and temples, and Sadara gave a weak laugh as her eyes opened again.

"You...you have to trim those. You could've poked my eye out with those things."

"Yes," Voryn gave a strange little laugh of his own, "I suppose I should be more careful from now on, shouldn't I?"

He moved back at that, and let his hands fall from her face. She reached up to take one of them between her own, then looked up at the mask.

And despite being unable to see his eyes, to meet them directly, she felt the fluttering in her chest again.

She let herself be lead into the hall, her heart feeling lighter with every step despite the lingering feeling that she needed to stop.

He went straight into the only other room in the corridor, a room he had to duck to get into. She realized instantly it must be his own room--it was far better stocked than the other room. A bookcase with several books in (Dwemer?), a dwemer contraption of some kind, a model of his mask, and eight miniatures she realized were the previous Nerevarines were sitting on its shelves. A tapestry or two that looked ancient yet in good condition, adorned with the crest of House Dagoth were on the same wall.

(And, she noticed on a table next to the bookshelf, a scattered piles of notes she assumed were his plans. The word 'corprus' stuck out on one of the pages in large letters)

"You...you never were good at keeping such things well organized," she joked softly.

stop while you still can

On the opposite side of the room was the thing she'd been thinking of since the night before, the thing she realized she'd been hoping for.

A bed.

Red and black, exactly as she would have expected.

Exactly as he had last night--there was a moment of hesitation. It was Voryn who stopped, who was momentarily unsure, whether he thought she would say no or for other reason.

But with a capricious sort of grin she would later joke must have been Nerevar's influence, Sadara acted. She untied the robe, let it fall to the floor, and moved onto the bed.

Come, she looked back at him once she'd taken a comfortable spot, giving him a look she hoped was inviting, Come to me, I will not deny you..

The mask came down, and Sadara gave him a soft smile as she was able to meet the three red eyes beneath it. He set the mask aside, and returned to her, having also shed the loincloth.

He kissed her--and though this time it was as much wanted as last night, that was where the similarity ended. The last night had been--heated, frenzied, as if they had feared someone would rush in and stop them. It was making up for centuries spent alone, never knowing what could have been.

But this...

This, was now.

As their lips met again his dark hair fell down against that of her white, a void to her light.

"Voryn," she whispered against his lips.

His hands were wandering almost immediately. Her face, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, lower--

"Not until you get those claws trimmed," she teased against his jaw, reaching down to pull his hand back up. "Besides. You've got something else I want there."

"Well," he whispered darkly in her ear, "Who am I to deny my lord's request?"

In gentle kisses and growing heat were the next several minutes spent, bodies pressed close but moving no further. Both luxuriated in the other's touch, reveled in the gentle strokes of very much wanted skin contact.

She was drunk on him, and all she could think, as she felt his hardness pressing against her thigh, was that she would drown herself in him if she could.

Voryn moved up, braced himself with one arm and lifted one of her legs with the other--thrust forward--

"Oh," she moaned, "Yes..."

If last night had been good, this was even better. His hips moved steadily against hers, the pleasure rising only slowly--but it was almost secondary to the bliss she felt seeing the contentment in his eyes. It wasn't just loneliness, it wasn't just the need to touch and be touched, it was that he desired her.

(She had never felt desired, not in the ways she could count in his eyes)

Sadara raised her hands to his sides, and held tightly to him.

Yes. Yes, I want it, I want this, I want YOU.

The hold on her leg didn't last long. Soon enough he let it go so the hand that had been holding her could go to her face, could thread its fingers through her hair. Again their lips met, and as he moved deeper, she rewarded him with increasingly needy moans.

"Please," she begged, when she parted with him for air, "Please. Please, don't stop."

Her hands clenched at his back, digging in, even as her legs were crossing behind him.

I don't plan to.

He didn't have to speak the words; his eyes held all the meaning of them that she needed to hear.

She could have lain there for much longer than she actually did, with Voryn's cock pushing her to greater and greater heights of pleasure, with his lips on her own or on her neck, his teeth grazing her skin only just enough to sting.

On an inward thrust from him she felt the ecstasy leap, and leap hard.

"Oh--god--"

Every successive thrust was just as hard and just as deep, and faster too. For one confusing moment she wondered what she'd said, but his suddenly quick pace banished any thoughts that were not more or yes.

And then--

"Voryn--!"

The end came by surprise, and seized her in a grip of iron as pleasure cascaded through her body for the most blissful seven seconds of her life so far. She heard a groan from him, and with one ankle over the other, tightened the grip her legs had on him.

She expected him to say Nerevar, and she would have accepted it just fine.

But that wasn't the name Voryn called when his own climax came.

It was her own.

"Sadara..."

The jerk of his body, the hot triple pulse, and then, finally, the sinking and drowning in the warm ocean of the afterglow.

He withdrew from her and rolled onto his side, keeping her close, holding her still, until fatigue and satisfaction were finally successful in their conspiracy to make her sleep.

Nothing had ever been so blissful as it was at that moment.

#dagoth ur x female nerevarine #dagoth ur smut #oh lord the catharsis #the NEED #dagoth ur #nerevarine #fanfiction #tes #morrowind #tesblr #elder scrolls

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husbandohunter · 3 years

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A Furry Predicament, but reversed (Reader turns into a cat)? Pretty please with a sweet lil cherry on top? (I recently stumbled across your blog and may I just say that I absolutely adore your works??) Thank youu and take care~~

A Furrier Predicatment [Genshin x Cat!Reader]

♤♡◇♧☆

Synopsis: It's your turn to be a cat after this incident.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Albedo, Zhongli, Childe, Venti

(A/n): Ah you did OwO that's very sweet of you. It's alot of fun to write, especially when your imagination is stunted and you just gotta spit out something silly.

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

[Diluc]

Any beloved pet owned by Master Diluc would be under the most high quality and meticulous treatement. Mostly for cats since they tend to be calm while elegant...to some extent. If they were dogs then he'll ensure that they also serve as a partner for sniffing out trouble such as a certain bard who'd might've sneaked into the wine cellars. But you weren't either, so to say, you were both a beloved AND a cat.

As he picks you up gently into his arms, Diluc would be a little baffled on what to do next. He has no idea how to care for delicate creatures as he never had one (other than a pet tortoise but that's different) in which he needed to look for help. But who? The staff? Certainly not, no one can find out that his partner turned into a pet (imagine all the scandals he'll be in). Jean? Anything but the knights of Favonius. And most certainly not his brother.

So Diluc ends up figuring everything out by himself (old habits die hard). All the sweets and regular meals you craved were no long in your menu, you were forced to have a proper cat diet because he believed it was healthier. Half of the time he has no idea what he's doing, since you were a cat and all you could do was "meow" (which Diluc forgets. He tries to have a mundane conversation until you stare at him with feline eyes. That was when he remembered).

"What would you like for tonight's dinner, my love?"

"Meow." He has alot to learn.

Though Master Diluc often gets very tired and he attempts to take a quick nap before killing himself over the next set of duties. That is, until you could help it. Being a cat has it's furry and comfy advantages. So you leapt up to the bed as quietly as possible and onto the side of your lover, circling a few times to see if he was really asleep. When he was you snuggled close to keep him warm, hoping it would lull him into a rest even deeper. He slept like a baby.

~xx~

[Kaeya]

If the Cavalry Capatain were to own a pet, they would either be charmed by him or snaring their teeth because of his unreadable and suspicious aura. Animal instincts are quite powerful. But your case wasn't the latter, thankfully and he could feel himself growing fond of this new found relationship. Almost. What should he do with you now that you're a cat, Kaeya wonders.

Belly rubs and a lot of them. He absolutely adores the way your cute little nose scrunches up while he runs his fingers on the center of your tummy (though he knows when to stop, Kaeya is rather gentle with you nowadays). You found that he absolutely adores the shape of your nose, would pick you up and boop yours with his own somehow knows how to be his flirty self despite your unusual form.

There was this one incident where you saw something shiny flashing over the wall. Slowly you followed it as the bright dot moved futher and further away, evetually gaining speed. Little did you know it was Kaeya who was watching you swipe your little paws up and down against the wall while he was just cleaning his sword. How could he help it? You were often so headstrong and independent, now you were just an adorable little kitten that loves to play with yarn and shiny things. It backfired him though, now there were a bunch of scratchmarks marring the surfaces (which he had to pay for repairs).

Takes you out to Windrise so that you could get some fresh air (also for you to find somewhere else to shed your fur other than his humble abode). Kaeya sits back under a tree while you either chase a butterfly or start slapping against the dandelions (only sneeze when they fly into your face). He wasn't sure if you were aware of what you were doing right now, if you were then he'll have lots of things to talk about once you turn back into human. If not, then at least he had the opportunity to witness such a soft side coming from you.

~xx~

[Xiao]

If any animal were to go close towards the adeptus, they would run away. Xiao isn't very good at interacting with others, pets included, usually they would run into the alleyway or hide around the legs of their owners while he glaringly, blankly stares at them (Even though he wouldn't admit it, Xiao thinks to himself, how soft is cat fur?) Now he gets to touch your cat form and turns out that fur is very ticklish yet pleasant against his skin.

Would be the most awkward conversationalist, the poor yaksha was already terrible with his words (often coming out harsh so he prefers to either keep away or say nothing at all) and even with you sometimes, now it was almost impossible to communicate. Xiao is not very good at reading a cat's body language. When you want him to hold you again, you'd walk in circles. He assumes you were hungry and leaps out the window to go fetch some fish...for the nth time there was a pile of raw salmon stacking upon the floor. Xiao thinks that maybe salmon species weren't to your liking, hence he does out to find another one.

As he plays his flute, you'd magically doze off on his lap. (There was one thing that you both can communicate with at last). Slowly but surely, he comes to learn the different gestures you make for certain situations. You often rub yourself upon his leg which he had heard to be a cat's way of claiming their territory. That was when Xiao picks you up, FINALLY. Though the real reason why it took him this long was because he was hesitant to hold you. He never really held a pet so naturally he has no idea how to hold a cat. Ends up cradling you in his arms because it seemed to be a safer option <3

"I never thought I'd be able to hold you like this," Xiao softly says to your lazy form, observing the way your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, "But I...forget it. We can stay like this for the time being, if you'd like. If not, that's fine too."

You stay.

~xx~

[Albedo]

The only pets Albedo had were for his alchemic experiments (plus they were put in cages too). Fact be told, he would make a terrible pet owner with the lifestyle he has now. The alchemist would be so absorbent into his work that he'll most likely forget that he has someone to feed and by the time he realized it, they would have already starved to death. After hearing glass bottles crashing to the floor, Albedo bursts into the rooms as the smoke fills it completely, finding a cat lost between it. The cat was you. He knows because he made the potions.

Sometimes he'd a little too scientific for his own good. Albedo assumed that when you turned into a cat, you've gone into cat mode and ends up treating you as such. "No, don't go near any bodies of water. You wouldn't like it." He almost forgets that you were once human which is very much like him if you had to be honest. Though when he does find out that you still carried human traits, Albedo must find ways to adapt things to your liking.

He makes your food himself. He's not a cook but he sure is good at everything he does, even if it's something he never did before. This goes for other areas too such as the size of your bed, if you need a little couch to stay on or maybe some tools to play around. (The only time when he is a good pet owner). In his sketchbook he'd have a bunch of blueprints and contraptions of what to make next. There's something enjoyable when spoiling you, those little reactions when you're pleased, like the twitch of your whiskers or the lift of your tail. Albedo finds is very cute.

On top of all that, he could also make you a potion to turn you back into normal. It seemed that it was the last thing he thought of on the list. Albedo was too occupied with treating you like a cat that it all flew over his head until now. Time flies when you're having fun.

~xx~

[Zhongli]

Unlike Albedo, anyone who has Zhongli as a pet owner would be considered to be a very lucky animal. He radiates a calm and serene aura that gives the perfect environment to have infinite nap times. People look at this man and wonder why his pet never gives him any trouble, especially when cats were considered to be both fiesty and needy. But they just didn't know that the cat was you (not like it would make a difference, any animal would know that Zhongli was no ordinary man).

How on earth does he know what you're saying? Maybe it's because he was once an archon. You could meow and he knows exactly what you would like to snack on. You could tilt your head, he takes it that you were curious on what he was currently doing (which was exactly what you were wondering), you can say nothing at all yet as if he could read your mind, Zhongli comes over to pet you with his gloved hands.

"How can I tell? Indeed it is because you're my lover, of course. Throughout this time we spent together, I've come to learn the way you speak through your eyes. They seem to hold true no matter what form you take. It's rather comforting."

Though there were many moments where you sneak up behind Zhongli. His hair, his ponytail- so long. Must play with. As you jump up and down with his thin strand swings side to side, it'll take a few seconds for him to decipher what your were doing. The minute he turns around he catches you with his hands midair and laughs heartfully. Cats were very endearing creatures.

~xx~

[Childe]

Back home in Snezhnaya, Childe would probably have owned a dog or two. They were mostly meant for hunting purposes, big and large furry creatures with thick skin suitable to endure the harsh cold. He has dogs because cats hate him for some strange reason. They either hiss or snootly turn their backs on him, one time he picked one up as a kid but his face bleeding after the cat scratched him with their paws. But of course you wouldn't do that to him. You would never~ he was your cutie pie anyways.

He was an obnoxious hugger, not gentle at all. Childe forgets his strength as a human man and when he squeezes you tightly against his chest, you'd spike out on all ends because by the archons, you're suffocating. But it was your fault for feeling so comfy and warm! Similar to Kaeya, they're both obnoxious but Childe deemed himself to be even worse. He'd rub his face against yours, commenting on how sensitive it sways. Tonia once told him that she wanted a pet cat instead, maybe he should also bring you back to his homeland now.

Yes he would love to play with you. Bring in the cat toys...or not. This was the eleventh Fatui Harbinger, what were you thinking? Normal cat activities? Not here. He's gonna teach you how to hunt like how he taught his dogs to hunt in Snezhnaya. You gave him the most deadpanned and dissapointed look with your large feline glare. Not only was he disliked by cats but he certainly was not good with them.

Though he can take it down a notch sometimes and just indulge in relaxing activities. When there was nothing else for him to do or when he was just tired after a productive day, he'd sit by the kitchen and you on top of the table. While you yawned and leaned down for a nap, Childe plays with the small of your paws to the soft edge of your nails. If he taps your nose, your whiskers twitch. Your ears are nice, maybe he should get you a headband version once you turned back to human.

You immediately wake up when he touches your tail.

~xx~

[Venti]

Achoo!

You sometimes wonder how is it that the anemo archon was able to live through 2000 years without getting beaten up by a cat. If andrius was a large cougar than a wolf, maybe he wouldn't be an archon now. Which is why you are to stay miles far far away from him unless you want the whole of Mondstadt to be blown away by the wind.

Wears a mask (as if this were the covid19 pandemic), although it doesn't take away all his problems, at least it'll minimize it. Venti always has a box of tissues ready but you can tell by the puffiness of his eyes that he's been sneezing alot. He really tries his hardest to pitch in every once in a while when Albedo was working on a cure for you to go back to normal. Though acts as if he was quarantined by staying all the way at the other side of the room.

"Ahahaha don't mind me. It's your local bard of Mondstadt dropping by to see how things are going. I wanna make sure how long it will take for you to make the potion? Just curious!"

No hugs, cuddles or anything involving close proximity. This makes Venti very pouty and impatient. Albedo finds it very hard to concentrate with all the sniffling and sneezing that he had no choice but to kick him out. It didn't help that the location was Dragonspine, now he was sneezing even more.

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