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#ageless abode
thesprouts02 · 2 months
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From the pitter-patter of tiny feet to the quiet moments of reflection, your home becomes a sanctuary for every chapter, ensuring that the tapestry of your family's story is woven with love, comfort, and togetherness.
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timidpumpkin · 2 years
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Little Light (Stucky x reader)
Part 1: Found
Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader
Summary: The first time you met Steve--or--the first time Steve found you.
Warnings for this part: Dark!Stucky, Female reader, Stalking, Reader has anxiety, Reader cries, Allusions that reader is a little, Allusions to kidnapping.
Warnings for future parts: Ddlg, Daddy!Stucky, Kidnapping, Forced age regression, Slapping, Anxiety, Panic attack, Slight dubcon, Stockholm Syndrome. (Will add more as needed)
Let me know if I missed any!!
Word count: 2.6k
Notes: Reader is in their 20s. There will be a few more parts to this as well as future writings within this universe! :) hehe. This is my first time ever posting a fic...please be kind...I am sensitive. Minors and ageless blogs DNI or I WILL block you.
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It’s chilly. 
The night is abnormally quiet. Your ears have to adapt to the lack of sound. Bugs and frogs are no longer sounding off to the moon. The draft that bites its way up your nose is dry. It’s the first few indications that the trees will transform, stripping their colorful shields to brace themselves for the biting weather that's to come.
You huffed your way into your familiar abode, wishing it wasn’t so late. For the past, well, who knows how long, you had been working prolonged hours that certainly weren’t supposed to be a part of your daily work life. Nevertheless, it was, and you were tired–no, exhausted. 
Your head and stomach oh so kindly reminded you that it was in need of food, but when you make your way into the kitchen, nothing seems appetizing. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The truth was the idea of spending what little time you had left in the day making something that would only add the dishes, another chore, was dispiriting, to say the least.
So instead of meeting your basic needs, you were met with wet eyes that almost lull you into slumber. But before you're taken over by sleep, as you lay on your couch, your mind drifts to a time when things weren't as…hard.
Several months ago, or perhaps even close to a year when you think about it, you were in Washington DC. It was an academic trip, the last one for your last year. Of course, throughout your schooling, you had plenty of assignments to keep you occupied. Yet, trips like these made it much more than bearable–it was fun. Most of your time was spent exploring countless museums and exhibits tailored to define the world you lived in. Elation saturated your spirit as you and your closest friend, MJ, absorbed the new environment. 
Perhaps though, one of the most memorable parts of your trip was when you two snuck out late one night to grab a bite to eat. Your mischievous selves couldn't seem to be bothered by the fact that the city could be known for its more…eventful crime life.
The streets weren't nearly as crowded at this time of night. Still, the warm street lights and richly colored signs decorating local establishments left the perfect amount of people to create a steady hum of activity. After going back and forth between several different food options, you eventually found yourselves on a bench to eat your taco score of the night. You mumbled to each other through full mouths declaring over and over again how delicious it was and made plans to find something sweet afterward. You hummed in satisfaction when the urge hit you. 
You had to pee. Great. 
Where on earth could you find a decent bathroom around here?
“I’m gonna try to find a restroom,” you said, wiping food debris from your pants and standing from your seated position.
“Ha, good luck,” MJ jeered at you, mouth half full. “I’ll be here enjoying this then” she motioned to your leftovers.
“Yeah yeah,” you scanned around you before figuring a direction to try your luck at. “Well, I’ll be back soon if I don’t find anything.”
“Hey wait!” she blurted before you could take off too far. “Don't forget this,” you turn to see an outstretched hand holding your phone. “If you get kidnapped or something I'll need some way to find you,” she teased. “You know, so I don't get in trouble if you do.”
“How very thoughtful of you.” you rolled your eyes playfully taking it from her.
You roam around, one street to another until you finally happen by a small sandwich shop that, mercifully, lets you use their restroom. Once you depart from its doors, you realize you're not really sure where you are. At all. Every street and building looks like the other one and after walking for a bit, you’re pretty sure you’ve gone the wrong way. Where you find yourself now is darker. Few lights illuminate the path ahead, and you can’t shake the strange feeling that you’re being watched–despite not seeing a single soul. You can’t help but check behind you every so often, looking backwards over and over again until you're not even really looking forward at all anymore.
And that when your body hits it. Something hard stops your momentum completely and wobbles you off balance until you feel gentle but firm hands steadying your swaying form. You can’t help the gasp that escapes your throat. 
“Woah there,” the solid figure holding you speaks. You blink up at the deep voice. It’s a man. A large man. His grip eases off you and he holds his hands up, open-palmed. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” he appealed, a reassuring smile on his face. 
“Oh it’s-that's alright,” you try to regain your composure as you back up a step, making space between you and the stranger. “I suppose I should have looked where I was going” you breathed, trying not to sound so startled. “Sorry.” you posture yourself up finally getting a good look at the man in front of you. You can’t help but stare at him for–probably more than a few–awkward moments as you start to recognize his face. It’s one you saw only hours ago during your Smithsonian visit, specifically, the Captain America exhibit. Yep–you’re pretty sure that man looking back at you is Steve Rogers. 
Except, he looks different from the pictures and videos you’ve seen. He’s sporting a beard, and he really does look even bigger than you expected. Even with a few good feet between you, you still have to look up to him. And he’s looking at you too. Luckily, he breaks the silence, likely noticing your gob-smacked face. 
“Are you,” he looked you up and down quickly, assessing you. “lost?” he meets your eyes.
“Oh-uh-, no no, I’m-” you didn’t want to seem helpless, but when he raises his eyebrow at you, you quickly cave. “well yeah actually…I was trying to find my friend. I left her on a bench…somewhere.” you say looking around pointlessly, as if she’d somehow appear before you.
“Well,” he takes a tiny step towards you. “I’m sure I could help with that” he grins confidently at you. 
“Oh that’s okay,” you start. “I mean I don’t want to impose or anything.” You’re sure he has more important things on his agenda than to help some random girl find her friend. You felt like some lost kid looking for their parent in the grocery store.
“Not at all,” he says definitively. “come on.” He gestures for you to follow his lead. He asks you what you remembered about your surroundings when you left MJ. He seems to recognize the place you’re talking about immediately and starts guiding the way. On the walk there, you talk. Well–he talks, mostly. It’s not that you necessarily felt nervous in his presence. Rather, it just wasn't uncommon for you to be at a loss for words, especially with new people. The truth of the matter was, you just didn’t know what to say, it was often difficult for you in that way. In the way that you only felt comfortable around someone after a decent amount of time of knowing them. Regardless, what was uncommon was how comfortable you felt talking to him-or well-answering him when he spoke to you.
“You really should be more careful walking around alone like that.” he said, seriousness lacing his tone.
“Yeah,” you laugh guiltily, “after all, you never know what kinds of people you’ll run into.” you jab at him playfully and he gives you a laugh in return. He asks if you're new to the area, and you explain your presence as a result of a field trip. You tell him simple things, like what you study, and how you’re almost finished with school.
“You know what you want to do after you graduate?” he probes. You wish he hadn’t. You hated that question more than anything, and now it was coming from him. Nevertheless, you felt you could be honest. 
“I’m…not really sure” you look downwards, self-conscious of your answer.
“Hmm, I know what that’s like.” you peer up at him in disbelief. Sure, you didn’t know him at all really, but still, you couldn't help the short judgment that told you that wasn’t true.
“Really?”
“I know, I know” he chuckles, “hard to believe, right?” he glances at you, smirking as you continue to walk. “but it’s true. Maybe not exactly like your situation but…” he purses his lips “I know what it’s like to feel uncertain about your path.” You're slightly taken aback by his honesty, and it comforts you to know someone like him could feel the same doubts as you. 
Well, of course, you think. He is just a normal person–okay, superperson–after all. A person like any other. 
One with feelings, wants, and needs. 
You hum. “Did you ever figure it out?” he cocks his head at you. “You know, whatever you were unsure about?” he ceases his stroll and your legs automatically mimic his as you stand to face each other. Even at a respectable distance, he towers over you. It’s not just his height though, rather, his entire being, his build, is enormous. 
“I think I did,” he smiles at you “yeah,” you smile back and for the second time tonight, you’re staring, but again, he breaks the silence. “Is that your friend?” you turn to see MJ still seated where you left her looking as nonchalant as usual. You give Steve an affirmation and begin making your way to her. As you get closer you make out what appears to be a cup of ice cream in her hands.
“There you are. I’ve been worried sick.” she explains, taking in a spoonful. 
“I can tell.” you quip. 
“Was too! You never answered my texts” she wiggles her phone in front of you for emphasis. You don’t remember getting any texts. Then again, maybe you were too distracted to notice them.
“Oh, well, sorry, I kind of got lost. Luckily I ran into-” you look behind you wanting to show your friend who helped bring you here, only to see an empty street. Your brows furrow. 
“Ran into…” she peers in the direction you’re looking towards.
“Someone that helped,” you mumble mostly to yourself. She gives you a confused look. “I-I’ll explain when we get back to the room.” and you do.
You tell her about how he startled you at first but was quick to offer help. “Of course he’d offer to help, he’s a superhero.” MJ remarks during your retelling. She listens as you describe how easy it felt to converse with him, and how you wished you had only thanked him properly for helping you. Realistically, you’re not sure what would have happened had you not run into him–literally. 
That memory wasn’t one you thought of too often, to tell the truth, but it was one that reminded you of a simpler time. Yet, even then you remember being tired. Only now did it seem to catch up with you how much you had to do. It made even the simplest tasks feel like too much. You longed for a time when you didn’t have so much…responsibility. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚
That night may have been the last time you saw Steve, but it certainly wasn’t the last time he saw you. 
He watched you that night, long before you even ran into him. He had been there for some mission, the importance of which he couldn’t remember. What he did remember though–your laugh. It chimed over the noise of the city around him, guiding him to your form where he was met with bright smiles as you giggled at something your friend said. There was something about you that drew him to you, and as the night went on, that something only grew stronger. He watched as you joked with your friend. He noticed your attentiveness to her, and those around you. How kind you were to anyone you interacted with, and how…silly you were for leaving your friend to go off by yourself. He knew then he had to keep watching, to make sure you remained safe. 
He was elated when you took that turn into the dark and empty street. It was the perfect opportunity to hear your voice–up close. 
And oh–how sweet you sounded.
Like how one would imagine a doe-eyed deer would sound. He reveled in how timid you were around him. How hard you tried to be courteous, mouth moving to form words, only for your lips to shut themselves. He truly thought it was adorable how you couldn't really look him in the eye, and when you did, you’d look away, often, with a bashful look.
Steve did see something in you that night–something he was missing. Once he realized it so, and dropped you off with your best friend, he knew he had to find his–Bucky.
Truthfully, he was more than just his best friend. They had been through so much, both together and separate. Both were thrown into treacherous waters more than once, living in unpredictable conditions, and exposed to the most atrocious of people. Though still, they had each other long before any of that. A friendship–a relationship–that knew no bounds–whether it be of time or situation. 
Steve knew Bucky would understand his fascination with you. They both had a lucid awareness of the wretched world they lived in. It wasn’t always that way, but time had proven it so over and over again. They could always rely on each other when everyone else seemed content with being against them. They knew the world still needed help, and they gave it, when and where they needed to. But nevertheless, in their eyes, everything was still tainted with darkness.
Except you. 
Over months, they observed you, studying you like there would be a test over every aspect of your being. Bucky thought you were even better than Steve had described. Beautiful, softhearted, and sweet. Yes, you truly were sweet. But in a way, too much so. He saw how nasty some people could be to you, only for you to return them with kind eyes and meek responses. He hated it. He adored you, and as time went on, it soon became clear that he didn’t want anyone to treat you in such a way.
They saw you working yourself to depletion every day. How you’d let dishes and laundry pile up. How poorly you ate, and how…clumsy you could be. Tripping over nothing after a long day, injuring yourself when actually attempting to make a meal. They knew what they needed to do. They knew what you needed. 
You needed them.
You needed them to take care of you.
Steve couldn’t bear to see you suffer like this, and Bucky knew they were the only people who could truly keep you shielded from the cold world around them. They would be your warmth, and you would be their little light. 
Yes, they could tell you needed them.
They could tell when you failed to do the simplest of things. 
They could tell when, every night, you’d grip your favorite stuffed animal in your arms.
They could tell when you were sure all the lights were out, your thumb would slowly slip its way behind your lips before you drifted to sleep.
Timing was everything. They had only been waiting for the perfect moment when everything was ready–including you. So when they saw you this night, curled up, tears staining the fabric beneath you as you fell asleep with an empty stomach, they knew it was the perfect time. 
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girlsneedff · 6 months
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Impted
Chosou x reader
Slightly NSFW- sexual activities are only mentioned. Still, minors and ageless bios stay away from this pls!!
This is based off of the song Imported by Jessie Reyez and 6LACK. I was blasting that all while writing (and not studying for finals).
Oh, and I drew the pic…
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ *:.。. o .。.:*☆
He doesn’t know why he’s getting so sad over this. It happens all the time. The girl that he loves finds some guy at a party, then they head home together, leaving Chosou a wreck. He knows it’s not fair, and he should have moved on a long time ago, but he can’t.
It’s hard to move on from someone you love- especially when she’s telling him “I love you” back. But she doesn’t want to make it official- she knows that this man will literally walk on his hands and knees to appease her, and she acts like he’s just some guy. It aggravates him to high hell, but he’s still hopeful about her.
This night was no different. She came with Chosou, and she’s leaving with another man. He can see her chatting this guy up from across the room in the house party. She’s batting her lashes up at him, playing with her hair, letting him feel all up on her. Chosou’s seething- you can practically see the steam rising from his head. With every bass boosted beat of the music in the house his heart is being torn to shreds. But she’s made it pretty clear that the two of them aren’t together- at all. He’s beginning to realize that they never will be.
“You look pissed as hell.”
A voice from behind him says, as (presumably, the owner of said voice) snakes an arm across his shoulder, leaning over the back of the chair to talk to him.
He peels his eyes off of ‘his girl’ and gives his attention to the voice.
It’s you. Your hair’s done up- you’re wearing a tube dress with necklaces and other jewelry adorning you. Lipgloss is shining. You’re smirking at him. He’s never seen you before- ever.
He doesn’t respond to you. Instead, he just looks at you blankly, then back at the girl he came with, dancing with another man.
“You like her, huh? In love with your best friend?”
That annoys Chosou a little bit. They’re not best friends- they’re… they…. Fuck he doesn’t even know. He takes a sip of his alcohol, just trying not to send his mind into a spiral.
“I get it. Happens to the best of us.”
Chosou would really prefer if you left him alone to wallow in his own self pity, but it seems that you have no intention of doing that. You haphazardly rub his chest, trying to comfort him.
“Thank you for- thank you for coming to my party.” You slur, smiling warmly.
Great. A drunk hostess. Not that he also wasn’t tipsy- it’s just that he’s sitting down, and he’s focusing all of his sobriety on his love.
And this is your house. It must look so nice when it’s not full of a bunch of mid to late 20-year olds getting wasted as fuck and destroying the place.
“Thank you for having me…”
“Of courseeeee,”
He side eyes you, as you place your head in your other hand.
“You’re too cute to be here upset about a girl.”
You grab the back of his head, which startles him, a tinge of red dancing across his cheeks as you move his head to look around.
“Take aaaa look at all of the possibiliessss.”
You’re referencing all of the people in your home right now. He doesn’t doubt that there’s some beauties in your humble abode, but they’re not her.
When you let go he looks back up at you, rubbing the back of his head clumsily. Now he’s really looking at you. Before he was so focused on his girl that’s not his girl, but now that he’s really really looking at you-
You’re bad as fuck. Real bad. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, or the fact that he’s been ignoring his heart skipping beats like it’s beatboxing ever since you came to pester him. He hasn’t felt this feeling for anyone but her in a long time.
You pick up on his staring, looking him up and down. Then you say, with a sly grin:
“Maybe I can offer some help…”
He stiffens, and it’s noticeable. You let out a small hum, seemingly happy with his reaction, running the hand wrapped around him along his chest.
“Come with me.”
You take said hand and grab his jaw, turning it towards his situationship.
“You really want to sit… and watch in agony?”
He gulps, feeling his heart squeeze even harder, watching this girl on the verge of kissing the random man of the night.
“Your eyes are so easy to read.”
He looks to his side, and sees you leaning over further, damn near falling onto the couch to look at his face.
“At least for now, I can help you forget.”
His face is burning up, and he’s feeling dizzy. Maybe it’s the drink? Or his situation? Or how close you are to his face?
“If you’re not down to fuck, that’s fine too. We can have fun other-“
“I want to fuck.”
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying with the little control he had.
You let out another hum in satisfaction with a grin.
“Shit- ok then.” You kiss his cheek sloppily, then stand back up behind the couch, waiting for him so you guys can go.
He stands up, looking at ‘his girl’ then back at you over his shoulder. You’re leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, looking at him. Obviously undressing him with your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek.
Your confidence and unabashed ogling is something he’s not used to.
Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but he likes it. Maybe it’s the punch you’ve brewed up for this party, but he’s starting to remember it’s nothing serious between him and ole girl. Perhaps it’s the drink, but he hopes you grip his hair just as roughly as you were doing before, whether he’s eating you out, or you’re riding.
You’re here- for the night, at least. It’s been so long since he’s had sex.
For once, his mind isn’t on her.
Maybe the best way for him to get her out of his head is to get inside of you- at least for the night.
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sicutpuella · 11 months
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Desiderium [Tom Riddle x Original Character]
Chapter 0: Grim Old Place
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Within the somber confines of 12 Grimmauld Place, an ancient dwelling tinged with an air of mystery, Harry Potter stood with his senses heightened, attuned to every whisper and rustle that permeated the shadowed halls. This place, steeped in the ancestral legacy of the noble House of Black, seemed to hold secrets within its very walls. It was in this hallowed abode, at the dawn of a new chapter in his extraordinary journey, that Harry heard a voice—a voice that beckoned to him from the depths of the unknown.
Harry Potter, the fabled wizard of renown, turned swiftly, his emerald eyes scanning the room in search of the enigmatic voice that had addressed him. To his astonishment, he found himself beholding a woman, whose ethereal beauty captivated his senses. Claudia Rosier, a bewitching figure, stood before him.
"Harry Potter, finally in the flesh!" she uttered, her voice resonating with a blend of anticipation and delight. The words, a mere handful, hung in the air, carrying with them a weight that stirred within Harry an inexplicable mix of curiosity and fascination. Her tresses, a resplendent cascade of dark crimson, differed from the ginger hues known to the Weasley clan. It was as if her hair possessed a bewitching charm, casting its spell upon all who dared to gaze upon its allure. Yet it was her eyes that held Harry transfixed—a striking shade of electric blue, vibrant orbs that seemed to penetrate the depths of his very soul.
Though the passage of years had marked her countenance, Claudia's allure remained undiminished. Her visage bore the traces of a life well-lived, etched with lines that added a touch of elegance to her graceful face. Towering above most in the room, she possessed an imposing stature, her regal presence exceeding the height of Harry himself. It was evident that she hailed from a privileged upbringing, a scion of the uppermost echelons of society.
As she uttered his name, her voice carried a gentleness that caressed his ears. Yet her refined accent hinted at a pedigree steeped in refinement and opulence. Every aspect of Claudia's being exuded an air of meticulous grooming, while a captivating fragrance enveloped her, enchanting those within its proximity. Her posture, straight and commanding, radiated both power and wisdom, as if she had long mastered the arts of authority.
In this extraordinary encounter, Claudia Rosier embodied a mesmerizing presence, a tapestry woven from the threads of ageless beauty and refined sophistication. Harry found himself spellbound by her very essence, the allure of a woman whose charms transcended time itself. Claudia Rosier's presence did not go unnoticed by Harry's faithful companions, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. As if summoned by an invisible force, they gravitated towards the enchanting figure that held their friend spellbound.
Ron, with his hair as fiery as the sun's golden rays, and Hermione, her countenance bright with intellect and determination, approached Claudia with a mix of curiosity and reverence. The twins, Fred and George, ever mischievous and quick-witted, joined the gathering, their eyes widening as they beheld the radiant beauty before them. Claudia's captivating aura transcended the boundaries of age, captivating all who gazed upon her with a mystifying allure. Her dark crimson locks cascaded like a silken tapestry, captivating even the mischievous twins, whose gazes momentarily faltered under her bewitching spell. Her eyes, an iridescent blue, seemed to hold within their depths a wellspring of wisdom and secrets, whispering untold stories to those who dared to look deeply enough.
Ron, his freckled countenance flushed with a mixture of awe and admiration, struggled to find the words to capture the essence of this ethereal presence. Hermione, her eyes sparkling with an inquisitive light, observed Claudia with an astute curiosity, her mind working tirelessly to unravel the enigma that stood before them. As the companions stood in the presence of Claudia Rosier, her allure resonated with an undeniable magnetism, evoking a symphony of emotions and intrigue. The air crackled with an undercurrent of anticipation, as if destiny itself had woven its tapestry around this meeting, entangling their lives in a web of unforeseen possibilities.
In this sacred gathering, amidst the aged tapestries and ancestral secrets, Claudia Rosier cast her spell upon the hearts and minds of those who beheld her, leaving an indelible mark upon their souls. The threads of fate intertwined, as the companions embarked upon a journey that would forever be intertwined with the enigmatic presence of Claudia, a woman whose beauty transcended the realms of mortal comprehension.
Sirius Black, with his boisterous laughter, shattered the silence that had settled upon the room, drawing the attention of the spellbound teenagers. His voice boomed with mirth as he spoke, bringing forth the revelation of the esteemed presence that had graced them all.
"Ah, I've seen you've met our special guest!" Sirius exclaimed, his jovial tone resonating through the ancient halls of 12 Grimmauld Place. "The honorable Claudia Rosier! The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Head of Magical Artifacts!"
At the utterance of the name Rosier, a collective recognition flickered in Harry's mind. It was a name that bore significance, for it was etched in the annals of infamy, belonging to those who had sworn allegiance to the Dark Lord. The Rosiers, notorious for their unwavering devotion to blood purity, were revered amongst the ranks of the Death Eaters. Yet, there was a complexity to their lineage—an undeniable wealth and influence that flowed through their veins. The noble Rosiers, as they were known, had established themselves as pillars of the wizarding elite.
With a graceful inclination of her head, Claudia Rosier acknowledged the young ones before her. A subtle air of dignity surrounded her, as if the weight of her position and the legacy of her name lent her an aura of quiet authority. With measured steps, she made her way toward the beckoning dining room of Grimmauld Place, joined by the other venerable members of the household.
In the wake of her departure from the hall, a mingling of emotions stirred within the hearts of the young wizards and witches left behind. A tapestry of intrigue and curiosity unfolded, woven with threads of apprehension. The presence of Claudia Rosier, a living embodiment of the complexities that entwined pureblood heritage and dark alliances, cast an enigmatic shadow upon the path that lay ahead. As they prepared to partake in the familial feast, the air thickened with unspoken questions, and the companions found themselves drawn further into the intricate web of secrets and destinies that bound them together within the hallowed chambers of Grimmauld Place.
In hushed tones, Ron Weasley leaned toward Harry Potter, his voice barely above a whisper, as if fearful of disturbing the delicate balance of the room. "A Rosier, Harry? Is she not of the same kind as... you-know-who's followers? One of those staunch believers in blood purity?" Hermione Granger, ever the fountain of knowledge, displayed a similar reaction, her expression etched with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
The trio, accompanied by the mischievous Fred and George Weasley, advanced into the opulent dining hall of Grimmauld Place, where Claudia Rosier occupied the seat of honor. There she sat, an embodiment of elegance and poise, her back held erect with a refined grace. The atmosphere seemed to shift, charged with an air of anticipation, as if the very room itself acknowledged her presence and yielded to her authority.
Their footsteps faltered for a fleeting moment, halted by the weight of their contemplation. The mere mention of the Rosier name sent ripples of unease through their collective consciousness, for it was synonymous with allegiance to the dark forces that had threatened their world. The Rosiers, a family entangled in the web of you-know-who's gang, had long espoused the ideals of blood purity, their beliefs steeped in tradition and exclusivity.
And yet, even in the face of their reservations, the trio pressed on, curiosity mingling with caution as they approached the table where Claudia held court. The resolute determination that guided their steps belied the doubts that churned within. Inwardly, they prepared themselves to navigate the intricacies of this encounter, to glean what truths lay concealed behind the veneer of elegance and power.
As they drew nearer, the allure of Claudia Rosier's presence intensified. Her poised countenance, an embodiment of regality, invited admiration and respect. Every line and curve of her figure spoke of confidence and authority, a testament to the depths of her experience and knowledge. The trio, accompanied by the ever-watchful twins, took their places at the table, the gravity of the moment hanging heavy in the air.
Amidst the resplendent atmosphere of the dining hall, an air of reunion pervaded the space, embracing all who gathered within its opulent confines. Nymphadora Tonks, the ever-capricious metamorphagus, regaled the younger attendees with her remarkable talents, effortlessly transforming her countenance into a succession of creatures—a duck, a pig, a lion—eliciting peals of laughter and delight. Even Claudia Rosier, a paragon of grace and refinement, found herself captivated by the whimsical display. Meanwhile, a distinguished assembly had formed on the side of the table, where Claudia sat alongside Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Engrossed in earnest discussion, their attention focused upon the pressing concerns plaguing the Ministry of Magic—specifically, the obstinate denial of Lord Voldemort's resurgence by the deluded Cornelius Fudge.
"What purpose does it serve to sugarcoat the truth?" Moody interjected brusquely, his words reverberating through the hall and punctuating the conversation. The room fell into an uneasy silence, as the weight of his statement hung heavy in the air, casting a somber pall over the gathering.
"Alastor," Claudia chided gently, her voice a soothing balm that sought to quell the mounting tension. But Moody, unyielding in his resolve, persisted. "Show him! The boy will discover the truth soon enough, one way or another."
As if in response to their exchange, a gentle hand extended toward Harry, bearing a newspaper with the front page emblazoned by a striking headline: "The Boy Who Lies." The words cast a shadow over the young wizard's countenance, stirring a mix of emotions within him—an amalgamation of defiance, frustration, and an unwavering determination to confront the harsh realities that lay ahead.
Amidst the distinguished company gathered within the walls of Grimmauld Place, the weighty matters of the day weighed heavily upon their minds. Cornelius Fudge, a figure of authority wielding power and influence over the Daily Prophet, had employed his position to suppress any claims of Lord Voldemort's menacing return. Sirius Black, his voice resolute, interjected with an air of defiance, breaking the silence that enveloped the room.
"Why?" Harry Potter, his disbelief palpable, queried in a tone laced with incredulity, his faith in the integrity of those in positions of power momentarily shaken.
Remus Lupin, a sage presence amid the assembly, endeavored to shed light upon the perplexing matter. "The Ministry suspects that Dumbledore seeks to usurp Fudge's position," he explained, his words tinged with a hint of weariness. "They harbor a deep-seated fear that compels them to perceive threats where none exist."
"But that’s insane! No one in their right mind could ever—" Harry retorted, his disbelief tinged with a note of righteous indignation. The flagrant incompetence of Fudge and the Ministry's willful ignorance stretched the bounds of reason, testing the limits of their patience and resolve.
"Indeed," Claudia interjected, her voice carrying a measured tone that bespoke wisdom earned through the passage of time. "Fear possesses the power to distort minds and drive individuals to commit unspeakable acts. Fudge's faculties have been compromised, clouded by the very dread that should impel him to action."
With a somber gaze fixed upon Harry, Claudia continued her discourse. "The last time Lord Voldemort seized power, our world trembled on the precipice of destruction. We cannot afford to dismiss that grim reality, nor can the Ministry, in their misguided attempts to pacify the masses, ignore the imminent threat that looms before us."
Sirius, unwavering in his resolve, added his voice to the somber discussion. "We believe that Voldemort seeks to rebuild his formidable army, just as he did fourteen years ago. His followers included not only dark wizards and witches, but creatures of all kinds." Remus, ever the embodiment of insight, continued, "He has been aggressively recruiting, and we too seek to gather our forces. Yet, in the face of the Ministry's hateful and ignorant gaze, our efforts have been hindered at every turn."
"And yet, there is more," Remus stated with a measured tone. "We suspect that Voldemort's motives extend beyond the mere construction of an army. We believe he harbors unfinished business, a desire to complete what he failed to achieve in his previous bid for power." As the words lingered in the air, the gaze of Alastor Moody, Claudia, and Sirius converged upon Harry, a shared understanding etched upon their faces. The gravity of the situation had deepened, casting a shadow upon their hopes and filling their hearts with a sense of foreboding.
As the weighty revelations continued to pour forth, a voice pierced the air, cutting through the rising tide of information. Molly Weasley, her tone filled with maternal concern and protective instincts, interjected with a fervor born of love and apprehension. "No, that is enough! He is but a boy, barely of age! If we delve any deeper into this dangerous path, we might as well extend him an invitation into the Order!"
Harry, emboldened by his newfound resolve and a fire that burned within him, seized the moment to make his proclamation. "If Voldemort seeks to gather an army, then I’ll come with you!”
Claudia, her vibrant spirit undimmed by the gravity of the situation, found amusement in the audacity and courage displayed by Harry. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, mirroring the playful spark dancing in Sirius's eyes. They recognized in Harry the same indomitable spirit that had guided them in their own battles against the encroaching darkness.
With Molly's intervention, the evening slowly began to regain its semblance of a joyous reunion. Conversations flowed freely, laughter mingled with whispers, and the atmosphere regained its familiar air of camaraderie. Each segment of the table formed pockets of dialogue, their words and laughter intertwining, as friends and allies found solace in the presence of kindred spirits. Yet, amid the din of jovial chatter, Harry's mind remained fixated on the enigmatic figure of Claudia Rosier. Her presence, though known to him by virtue of her position within the Ministry, seemed peculiarly timed. Questions formed in the depths of his inquisitive mind, a desire to unravel the mysteries surrounding her newfound association with the Order of the Phoenix.
As the evening progressed, Harry's curiosity simmered beneath the surface, a flame that threatened to consume his thoughts. The allure of Claudia's presence beckoned him, urging him to seek answers and uncover the truth that lay hidden within her crimson hair and electric blue eyes. In this union of destiny and circumstance, Harry resolved to delve deeper into the enigma that was Claudia Rosier, for he sensed that her presence held significance far beyond what met the eye.
As the night began its descent towards the late hours, Claudia Rosier, ever conscious of her responsibilities, gracefully excused herself from the gathering. With a gentle smile upon her lips, she delicately maneuvered through the clusters of conversation, offering her farewells to each individual in turn. Her departure elicited a collective murmur of appreciation and respect, for her presence had brought an air of wisdom and elegance to their midst.
Pausing momentarily before the trio, Claudia's eyes gleamed with a genuine interest as she addressed them. "You find yourselves embarking upon your fifth year, do you not?" Her tone carried a warmth that embraced both familiarity and curiosity. Hermione, ever respectful and poised, replied with a deferential nod, her voice laced with a measure of reverence towards the seasoned witch.
"Ah, the fifth year—a truly magical time," Claudia exclaimed, her laughter bubbling forth like a melodic symphony that echoed through the grand hall. Her words carried a hint of nostalgia, evoking memories of her own youthful adventures and trials within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.
The brief interlude drew to a close, as Claudia's obligations beckoned her away. With a final gaze that held a promise of future encounters, she addressed Harry directly. "Tomorrow, Harry, we shall meet again at the Ministry. Until then, I bid you all adieu!"
Masterlist : Next Chapter
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Text
Twisted Wonderland Masterlist of Masterlists
Ramshackle Masterlist
The humble abode of our dear reader and Grim.
Heartslabyul Masterlist
A dorm based on the Queen of Hearts' spirit of strictness.
Savanaclaw Masterlist
A dorm based on the King of Beasts' spirit of persistence.
Octavinelle Masterlist
A dorm based on the Sea Witch's spirit of benevolence.
Scarabia Masterlist
A dorm based on the Sorcerer of Sand's spirit of mindfulness.
Pomefiore Masterlist
A dorm based on the Fairest Queen's spirit of tenacity.
Ignihyde Masterlist
A dorm based on the King of the Underworld's spirit of diligence.
Diasomnia Masterlist
A dorm based on the Thorn Fairy's spirit of nobility.
NRC Staff & Fellow Honest Masterlist
Need to speak to the staff? Or to a certain fox?
RSA & Noble Bell College Masterlist
Some cheerful lads and then there's just... Rollo
NSFW Masterlist
As a note; I will block any minor or ageless blogs that interact with my NSFW content.
Matchup Masterlist (includes a link to rules)
Let me see which suitor could be a beneficial match~
Soul Match AU Masterlist
My take on the soulmate AU, except they can all be read as familial, platonic, or romantic; reader is gender-neutral
Events Masterlist
For follower milestones, or for my own fun and amusement
Ask Rules
Please check my status before and read the rules before sending in a request.
Author’s Note; As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. 
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please-dontperceiveme · 6 months
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Min0rs/pr0ship DNI! 18+ only! AGELESS BLOGS LIKING/REBLOGGING WILL BE BLOCKED!
I gotta write down this idea. DND-esque adventuring party looking for a treasure in the abandoned abode of some sorcerer or dragon or whatever that had access to arcane magic, with their only guide being a scrap of the magician's diary that they found- that actually seems to be some kind of kink negotiation contract that everyone blows off. Good for them for safe practice, but no one wants to see what a dead person's fetishes and hard limits were.
The whole place is chock full of... what seems like traps. Relatively harmless ones that are more inconvenient than anything, but all seem to follow a theme (that maybe one member of the party recognizes and is getting flustered about). The main room and treasure is guarded by a construct of the magician, and everyone's looking for a way to shut it off...
...when someone thinks to dig out the contract and use the safeword outlined on it. Which shuts everything off. The magician was just kind of a freak, dude. (And now that they know they have a guaranteed out if anything goes awry, maybe that one flustered party member comes back later on their own time.)
Min0rs/pr0ship DNI! 18+ only! AGELESS BLOGS LIKING/REBLOGGING WILL BE BLOCKED!
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silverdune · 5 months
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..humbug | prologue.
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"please.. forgive the intrusion of us three festive spectres.."
minors dni. ageless blogs dni. blank blogs dni. you'll be blocked.
..humbug masterlist | next ->
character(s): choi seungcheol, yoon jeonghan, joshua hong as the ghosts of christmas past, present and future (ft. you as scrooge, mentioned ?? svt member)
tags: retail worker!reader, reader doesn't like the holidays, 95z are sarcastic and they sorta break-in(??) (it'll make sense), banter, mild suspense, ghosts, reader gets freaked out and questions their reality, retail stores during the holidays, stress, food (eating), christmas music, past relationships/breakups, crying, angst, explicit language
word count: 4.0k
summary: you come home, stressed from your christmas eve shift and three people have shown up in your apartment. they claim they're the ghosts of christmas past, present and future, but a christmas carol is a work of fiction.. right?
a/n: i didn't expect the prologue to be this long haha but here it is. hopefully i can get the rest of this up by christmas, if not, just after?? anyways, i hope you enjoy;
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Christmas Eve.
It's always dialled up to eleven on the last day before Christmas. The speakers are only playing holiday music, you've got to wear the tacky sweater and your stress levels are indisputably at their highest.
This isn't your favourite time of year by any means.
Every chance you get, you eye what seems to be the only clock in the entire store. It rings an hour before closing time, and you've got to spend a further hour clearing everything away and shutting up shop before you can spend two blissful days in solitude.
The queue for the checkouts stretches as far as the eye can see. As you pass by to take a stack of baskets back to the entrance, you can't help but take a gander at everyone's trolleys, filled to the brim with their last minute buys. It truly makes you wonder why anyone would wait until the last second to get everything in for the holidays.
The journey is slow as people go back and forth across the aisles, trying their best to gather all the stuff they could possibly need and want. Your mind is ticking over, wishing and waiting for your shift to be done with so you can go home and eat.
The stack of baskets finally end up back in the holder, and you're immediately called away to jump back on tills.
An hour becomes forty-five minutes, to half an hour, to fifteen minutes, to shutters down.
The speakers are turned off and you glance at your co-workers with a heavy sigh. One of them remarks that it's another Christmas Eve over with!
You snort to yourself and say beneath your breath, "Ain't I glad for it."
You get to work wiping down the tills, making sure everything is tidied away, and helping a few other staff members replace leftover stock from customers who could not stomach the neverending queue. Soon enough, it's time for you to go home.
You had exchanged gifts with the rest of the staff throughout the week, and as you head to your car, you wish everyone a happy holiday and new year. They shout back with more energy than your sleep deprived self could manage, and you climb into your car before starting the engine and driving home.
You keep the radio off. You had heard enough Christmas music on this day alone.
Pulling into the tiny driveway of your house sometime later, you clamber out, collecting your bag of presents from your friends at work as well as your shoulder bag. Eventually, you get it all to the front door, and upon entering the code, you almost fall into your abode and haphazardly shut the door behind you.
The bags hit the floor. Your shoes are the first thing to come flying off, followed by your hat, coat and scarf. It had started snowing recently, though thankfully none had fallen so far tonight.
Stepping into your house, you take a deep breath in then turn on all the lights. You then decide to head to your bedroom and get changed into your pyjamas. Much better.
It's almost 10pm when you start preparing dinner. Nothing too fancy or elaborate, just a quick bite to eat before you inevitably get into bed and fall into the deepest sleep imaginable. Slumber had been slipping away for days, you know you'll be thankful for the first good night's sleep in ages.
The house is quiet and still, save for the sounds of the hood fan above your stove, the clacking of pots and pans, the faucet turning on and off as you wash your hands, and the timer on your phone letting you know your meal is done.
As you plate your dinner and toss the pans into the sink, the wind picks up outside. It howls at your kitchen window, startling you a little, before you notice drops of something fall in front of the nearby streetlight.
Immediately, you think it's snow, and a quick poke of the head outside your front door confirms that theory. You hum, then go back inside before your dinner gets cold.
You take the dish into the living room and place it on the table before taking a seat on the floor. Without a second to waste, you tuck in.
The wind gets stronger with each passing minute. You figure the snow could only be getting heavier. Perhaps it's cold enough for it to stick.
Thoughts pass absent-mindedly through your head as you eat. Gotta call parents in the morning. Make sure dinner is prepared. They're coming at around 2pm. I need to tidy up a bit before they get here too.
Finishing up your dinner, you get up to grab your phone from your bag. It lets you know it's just past 11pm and your eyes widen in surprise - has time really gone that fast?
As you re-enter the living room, you ensure you have an alarm set for 9am the following morning, then pick up your plate and take it into the kitchen.
The wind grows rather fierce outside, and the howling becomes.. eerie. A blizzard hails and you wonder when it's going to calm down, if it will at all.
You clear everything up and put everything back, then wipe the countertops down. It's an extra step before you can go to bed, but you know you'll be thankful for it in the morning. Once you switch off all the lights, you head into the bathroom and brush your teeth.
The baying wind causes a noticeable raucous outside as you splash your face with warm water and turn off the faucet. The nature of it is almost otherworldly and it brings you to a halt.
Never before have your hairs stood on head at the mere appearance of a gale force wind.
You pick up your towel to dry your face, now slightly perturbed at just how forceful these gusts are.
You won't lie, it's making you feel uneasy.
Setting the towel on the side, you hurry out the bathroom to switch on one of the floor lamps so you can feel comfortable turning off the bathroom light. You're not sure why the weather is making you feel like this, but the way it's picked up in the last hour is genuinely starting to scare you.
Your mouth is a few seconds ahead of your brain when you call out, "Hello?" You shake your head slightly, unsure of where that exclamation came from.
What, do you suppose there are ghosts here?
A chuckle escapes you - surely not. It is just an incredibly powerful wind, coupled with snow. This has happened hundreds of times before, this is nothing new!
Exhaling, you turn off the bathroom light, turn off the floor lamp, then go into your bedroom. The clock reads just shy of midnight.
For some reason, this makes you pause.
A lump forms in your throat that you promptly swallow. Nothing to fear, you think, and get into bed with the promise of a wonderful night's rest.
You close your eyes, knowing you'll be off to sleep in no time..
Thud.
You jolt upright.
"What the fuck?"
You heart picks up speed. You place a hand on your chest as you try and take the deepest breaths possible.
Your shaky hand reaches out to turn on the bedside lamp. Slowly, you pull back the duvet and get out of bed, grabbing your phone in the process and switching on the torch.
Inch by inch, you trudge out of the bedroom and head in the direction of the kitchen, where you assume the noise came from. It sounded like a clattering of pans.. you don't even know what would've caused it.
But more than that, you are chilled to the bone to discover you can.. fucking hear voices?
Coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway, every sense is on high alert as you point your torch to the floor. What the fuck is going on, and who the fuck is in my house?
Assuredly not what you were expecting in the early hours of Christmas morning.
Nobody had entered the house as you were getting ready for bed. There was no break-in, no disturbances other than the loud wind, and certainly no sign that someone had managed to find another way to enter.
This is truly something else.
And what gets to you more than anything, is that as you start treading carefully towards the kitchen again, the voices become more distinctive.. and there's three of them.
.
.
Usually, a more graceful entrance through the chimney would be in order.
But where no chimney exists, the next best option is.. the oven.
"Damn it!"
"Good one, Joshua.."
"Don't look at me, Jeonghan. I'm not the one who decides to get thrown down- or I guess in this case out- first." Joshua picks himself up off the ground and dusts down his jacket. Jeonghan follows suit, then moves to brush off Joshua's shoulders before getting shooed away. "And Seungcheol's going to get a lovely entrance, I bet.."
Much to their shock - and joy - Seungcheol flies through the open oven door and lands with a thud against the kitchen island opposite.
Jeonghan and Joshua both guffaw as the latter closes the oven. "Ah, I'm almost glad I spoke too soon."
"Bastard," mutters Seungcheol beneath his breath, rubbing his head as he scrambles to his feet. "Could've helped me.."
Both Jeonghan and Joshua - whom Seungcheol unabashedly nicknames The Bothersome Brothers - look at one another then turn to Seungcheol in mock sympathy. For dramatic effect, Jeonghan gently covers his mouth with his hand as Joshua shakes his head in shame.
"Oh.. we are so sorry, forgive us, dear elder.." Jeonghan drones, hand now on his chest to feign sadness.
Seungcheol fixes them a less-than-pleased glare and rolls one shoulder back at a time to relieve some tension. "I will roast you both."
The pair fake a gasp simultaneously. "The horror!" says Joshua.
"Couldn't imagine!" follows Jeonghan, back of hand on his forehead.
"Alright, enough you two. We need to figure out where we are and who we're assisting."
The two drop the act and instantly shift into gear. "Well.." begins Joshua, putting his hands behind his back and taking a walk through the kitchen, "we're in a house.."
Jeonghan snorts. Seungcheol does not have the patience for this.
"Seriously?"
"What?" Joshua exclaims; Seungcheol's raised brow says it all. "..Fine." Out of thin air, he retrieves a large, ancient book that he opens to about the halfway point. He recites the information within back to the other men. "LN.FN. Late 20s-early 30s. Retail worker. Reason for hating the holidays.."
Shriek.
.
.
When you wander into your kitchen, you let out an earth-shattering scream.
You abruptly reach for the nearest light switch and turn it on, revealing three men standing in front of your oven, one of them fumbling to hold onto a giant book as it nearly slips out of his hands.
The flashlight on your phone gets shut off. You stare blankly at the trio, unable to fathom just why they are currently standing in your kitchen.
"Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?" you yell, hoping to God this is either a very realistic nightmare, or that if it is real, one of your neighbours understands there are currently three intruders in your home so they can come and help you.
The man furthest to the right takes a step forward. They are all noticeably just as freaked out as you, and it befuddles you since, you know, they are the ones in your house.
"Our sincerest apologies.." He says it so intently and it's disquieting. "We did not mean to frighten you."
The man in the centre continues, "Please.. forgive the intrusion of us three festive spectres.."
The man holding the book completes the sentence, "You must be N." He smiles, and now you have to try and wrap your head around the fact that he just said your name. "It is very nice to meet you."
You are at a complete loss for words. Everything goes still as you try and make sense of all of this.
You try again with asking questions. "..Please tell me who you are and where you came from." The words leave you in a controlled yet urgent tone.
"Bizarrely, of the two queries, the latter will be the more difficult to understand.." remarks the man in the centre.
What in the- "What in the name is that supposed to mean?" you ask.
Bookkeeper answers, "What he's trying to say is that our method of arrival was both unconventional and incomprehensible."
Your head is spinning irrevocably. The walls feel like they are closing in. Everything about this is wrong and you just want to wake up from whatever sordid dream this is.
"Okay.." You try again, this time with a shaky voice. "I am going to politely ask you- in fact, no, I am going to demand that you leave my house this instant or I will call the police!" Your voice quickly reaches its peak volume and the trio are taken aback.
The first man to speak to you tries to de-escalate the situation. "We can explain why we're here!"
"And how!" says the man in the middle.
Good God, is this nightmare over already?
At that moment, the three men form a line. One by one, they introduce themselves.
"My name is Seungcheol. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."
"My name is Jeonghan, I am the Ghost of Christmas Present."
"My name is Joshua, I am the Ghost of Christmas Future."
They bow in unison.
You laugh.
They glance at one another as they lift their heads, then look over at you. Both arms are tucked across your stomach and you are fully bellowing out laughter.
Their backs straighten. Joshua tucks the book under his arm. The three exchange another glance before they turn back to you.
Once you have finally calmed down and wiped a stray tear, you come back to the room and say, "Holy shit, that is the funniest thing I've heard all year."
Jeonghan goes to speak, "Um- we're- we're afraid that it's-"
You continue chuckling, effectively interrupting him. "That is quite the cover story."
"Beg your pardon?" Joshua cocks a brow.
"All fun and games, huh? Thought you'd get a last minute steal in, and if I found you, you'd pose as the three ghosts of Christmas from the Dickens novel." A snort involuntarily escapes you at the ridiculousness of it all.
The trio perk up at that. Jeonghan mutters to them, "That author's name again!"
Seungcheol gazes at you. "Um, excuse me? Did you mention.. Dickens?"
You stop. "Yes? His famous novel, A Christmas Carol has three ghosts that show up in it: Christmas past, present and future.." Their bemused facial expressions are not lost on you. "Surely you.. must have heard of it if you're referencing the characters and literally introducing yourselves as them." You are still in disbelief over that.
"Well," Joshua begins, "to be honest, we've only heard of the novel through other visits we've done.."
"Yes, literally everyone we have interacted with has brought that story up in connection to us but we have no knowledge of it!" Jeonghan explains.
"Some have even gone as far as to say we are actually from that novel and we've come to life!" says Seungcheol.
Frozen solid to the spot you're standing on, you take a good look at three men in front of you. They are all wearing similar attire of a vintage persuasion: suits under long trenchcoats with slacks. Their hair is styled in a way reminiscent of the 40s.
This is baffling to say the least.
Festive spectres..
"Jeonghan, is it?"
Jeonghan eyes you. "Yes?"
"You mentioned you were.. festive spectres.. Is-" You cannot comprehend the fact you're going to inquire about this. "Is that.. legit?"
Jeonghan smiles. "Undoubtedly. And if you want to know the answer to your other query.. We entered through your oven."
Your jaw drops.
That's enough.
"Okay!" You enter the kitchen and go to stand behind them so you can escort them out of the house. "Thank you very much for your company, but-"
As soon as your hand brushes Joshua's shoulder, you squeal and step back.
He is frightfully cold.
The men pivot and see you standing on the other side of the kitchen, back pressed against the sink with one hand covering the other.
"Oh!" Seungcheol understands. "Yes, we are.. quite chilly." The other two catch on and nod in agreement.
Your pupils grow three sizes. "Quite chilly?" you scoff. "You're a damn glacier, fuck.."
"Again, apologies," Seungcheol quietly laughs. "Comes with the territory."
You can do nothing but stare at them; this all well beyond you at this rate.
Joshua opens the book again to the same place as before. "Your name is N.. Late 20s-early 30s.."
"Hang on a minute!" You point a finger. "How the hell do you have that information?"
"Oh! When we are assigned folks to visit during the early morn of Christmas day, we're given a basic information log on who they are and their reasons for disliking the holiday season," says Joshua with a grin on his face.
That last part throws you off. "My.. reasons for disliking Christmas?"
"Yes! A few are listed here actually.. The music, working in a retail store, putting up with distant relatives, commercialisation, consumerism, etc, etc.."
The list is all accurate, but something stings in the back of your mind. You ignore it. For now.
"Right and as the self-proclaimed ghosts of Christmas whenever, you're here to try and make me less of a Grinch?"
"Grinch..?" Joshua furrows his brow in confusion.
"We had a few people mention The Grinch, remember?" says Jeonghan, trying to poke at Joshua's memory. "He's a cartoon of a character who hates Christmas so much he tries to steal it."
"And eventually his heart grows three sizes and he learns to love the holiday and be more cheerful," you finish explaining. Now your head is spinning much faster.
It eventually registers with Joshua, "Ah! Yes, I do remember that story now. Not mentioned as frequently as the other one."
"I mean.. no surprise there, you are literally telling people you're three of the characters from that story." You rub your forehead in exasperation. Quite frankly, you're tired, stressed and just want to go back to bed.
"So, I think with all that settled, we should get to the bottom of what really upsets you about the holidays," announces Seungcheol.
Your eyes split open. Huh?
"Excuse you?"
"The real reason for your hurt at this time of year," Jeonghan informs.
"Yeah, I got that part, but the fuck?"
You are yet to find a good explanation for anything occurring right now and these three "ghosts" want to unpack all the problems?
It is still unclear if they are even telling the truth!
Joshua closes the book and sighs. "I listed many reasons, all of which are perfectly valid and understandable, but there's something much deeper."
"It has been troubling you since well.. last year," laments Jeonghan.
"And only when you confront it, can you learn to move forward," Seungcheol affirms.
Your legs nearly turn to jelly and you have to prop yourself up on the side of the sink just to remain steady.
The something much deeper?
The thing troubling you?
The thing you must confront?
You have to turn away from them.
Staring out of the window, all the memories come flooding back.
You had spent three Christmases together.
Everything was going so well. You had considered moving in together up until late last year.
That was when things got worse.
You grew ever so distant in the weeks leading up to Christmas. It was to be your fourth together and yet, by the time December rolled around, you both decided it was best if you broke it off.
No closure. No final words. No cards or gifts or well wishes from either of you.
Truly a lonely holiday.
You had of course spent it surrounded by family, but after almost four years together, it hurt to have an empty seat beside you at the dinner table.
Even waltzing around your own house reminded you of everything you shared. You'd often stay the night at each other's places.
Now it was your second Christmas apart, and despite all the time that has passed, it could still bring you to tears just thinking about it.
You often wonder what he's doing. If he ever thinks of you. It crosses your mind that he clearly hasn't, otherwise he'd pick up the phone, but the hypocrisy would be so loud, and it never stopped you from thinking about him.
With a heavy weight on your shoulders, you take a deep breath in. It occurs to you that the three ghosts have been standing behind you this entire time, and you brush a tear away before turning around.
"Sorry.." you whisper. To them? To him? To yourself? You don't know.
"It is more than okay. We are only here to help," says Seungcheol, gently.
"And if you'd like us to, we can guide you through these three different times," follows Jeonghan. "But it is up to you."
"If you wish us to leave, we shall," Joshua vows on behalf of all three of them.
Something uncanny twists in your stomach. You are unsure of when or how the atmosphere shifted but, you find yourself unable to do much else but choke a sob. They watch on sympathetically, unable to conceal their sorrow.
"How do I- kn-know that you're really those ghosts?" you sniff.
"Well, aside from the temperature, does this help you?" wonders Joshua, before he levitates the book above his palm before throwing it into the air, causing it to vanish.
You blink. "W-Wow.."
"And perhaps.." Seungcheol backtracks out of the kitchen, subtly guiding you towards the standing mirror in the hallway. You follow, and once you're standing in front of the glass, it reveals zero reflection of the man beside you.
"Oh, shit-" You can't see, but Seungcheol smirks behind you. You lift a hand to the mirror and gulp. "Okay.. So.. How would you plan on guiding me through these times?"
"I answer your question with another: who do you see before you?"
".. Not you," you joke. The trio chuckle. "But, seriously.. myself, of course."
"Yourself, when?"
"Now. Today."
"And what year is it currently?"
"..2023."
"Correct. Now.." Seungcheol lifts an arm, then moves his hand in a circle motion, causing a spiralling ripple effect on the mirror.
Your mouth gapes open and a gasp escapes. This is insane, how is this even real?
Seungcheol eventually lowers his arm. "..What do you see?"
The picture clears. You say what you see. "Christmas lights.. That's the front of my house! It's snowing.. There's someone laughing-"
The words get caught in your throat.
Wonwoo.
Your ex.
"That's.." You struggle to say his name. It's like you haven't said it in years. "..Wonwoo."
The name tastes of salt on your tongue. Or maybe that's the tears that have since started shedding with reckless abandon.
"Your ex-boyfriend, correct?"
You swallow thickly. "Y-Yes.."
The picture starts to change. It becomes so much darker. The tone is shifting. It was only a vignette of the past and yet you wish you could hold onto it for dear life.
The world becomes foggy. The words are mumbled and the voices are not defined. You shudder in your own living room, wiping your cheeks free of tears.
Seungcheol stands before you and holds his hand out.
"I stood you before the mirror, as while it does give you your reflection at present, it can also reflect so much of what has been left in the past. It acts as a window to everything that has transpired to make you who you are."
You look at him, then the mirror, then back at him.
"Take my hand, if you wish to revisit the past."
Pushing your shoulders back, you take a moment to consider whether this is a good idea.
In seconds, your hand ends up in his.
He guides you through the mirror, and as the door closes, your living room is shrouded in darkness.
Jeonghan nudges Joshua, "Admirable."
Joshua nods. "I do hope this brings them some much needed closure."
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× tristeetconfus (ave). do not repost. ×
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shoniku · 3 months
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🍵 ──── ' ' welcome to koi's humble abode ! ' '
hello , koi's speaking ! welcome to her blog !! :DD
koi uses this account for ocs/characters silly rambles and maybe share some of her doodles too !
DNI !!
— heavy nsfw accounts ( reminder , koi's a minor ! ) , -phobics , proshippers , ageless bio , problematic in general , racists , more is on koi's bio !
' ' enjoy your stay ! ' ' ──── 🍵
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potionpeddlerpatchy · 2 years
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Hello Traveler, I was wondering when you would finally show yourself; quite rude of you to make me wait so long. But, I understand, for you were not expecting me nor were you thinking you needed me. You may call my Patchy, and please, I welcome you to my humble abode; come stay awhile, browse my wares, and ask whatever inquiry is on your mind - I promise you that I always have the right answer. Though, the only patrons I will serve are those that are NOT minors, ageless blogs, or empty blogs, if you are those things you are not welcome here.
But if you do meet those qualifications, and you can trust what many claim to be a failing potion seller, then I am your humble servant.
Honored member of @love-and-lore
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completed potions, recommended potions, traveler's navigation, another place to browse my wares, and if you like, leave a coin
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recent potions made:
a withered rose - god!shinso x nymph!reader: The Gods within the Underworld barely get any company. So, it came as no surprise that Shinsou, the God of Sleep, grew quite fond of a sweet little nymph - one abandoned by the Sero after being taken to the heavens, who was seeking his company. (sequel to 'a plucked flower') a plucked flower - god!sero x nymph!reader: tales of your beauty in the mortal realm had finally reached the heavens. Sero wanted to see if you truly were as lovely as they all claimed. Once he saw you, he knew he had to keep you for his own.
current potions in the work:
God of Sleep Shinso, Wolfish Desire Sequel, Gardener reader in Demon Slayer, a few Royal AU pieces, and more perv Haikyuu!! fics; perhaps even a squeal or two
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Also, a reminder in case you need one. This shop is only for those 18+. Meaning that if you are younger than 18, do not have your age on you where I can see it, or the blog you come from is empty, I will not entertain you. You will forever be removed from my presence and store (blocked).
Do not try to interact with me or my NSFW material if you are the above.
This is my shop, my home, and these are my rules.
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DO NOT REPOST MY WORKS OF MY POTIONS, OR SHARE/REC THEM ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION - ESPECIALLY TIK TOK
I don’t give anyone permission to repost, distribute, copy or re-use my works in any way, shape, or form.
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Welcome weary traveler to my humble abode. You can call me Cherry. Please have a seat and help yourself to the goodies.
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Vestibule :
☠︎︎ Cherry | She/They | 20
☠︎︎ Obsessed with Obey Me! | Beel supremacy
☠︎︎ Chat Corner (Open) |
☠︎︎ Requests (Open for OM! Only) | You can check the status of your request in the grocery list below
☠︎︎ Shoot me an ask if you would like to be added to the taglist
☠︎︎ Note: My blog is best enjoyed in Goth Rave mode
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Welcome to the living room! This is where the rules, taglist and annon list live.
Mantle:
☠︎︎ Nsfw + Sfw are cool
☠︎︎ I won't complete nsfw request / answer nsfw asks for ageless blogs
☠︎︎ I won't write: Non-con | Dub-con | abuse | self harm | sexual assault | scat | water sports | piss | pedophilia
☠︎︎ I write most other things and if you don't know just ask (I promise I don't bite)
☠︎︎ Fandoms: Obey Me! (SFW Only! For Luke) | OHSHC | Cowboy Bebop | Haikyuu | Dr. Stone | Sk8 the infinity | One Punch Man | Demon Slayer | Fnaf
Annons crashin on the couch:
(The couch is currently empty)
Framed Photo (aka the taglist) -
Obey Me: @anxious-chick
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Pantry: Coming Soon
Grocery List (aka the WIP list) -
☠︎︎ The Unforgivable series - pt. 1: Lucifer (Drafting)
☠︎︎ Panty HCs for the OM! Boys (Concept building)
☠︎︎ Beel x Chubby MC Fic from requests (Drafting!!!!)
☠︎︎ Midnight snack - Beel Fic from requests (Concept Building)
Last updated: 10/22/23 - 7:19 P.M. MST
Header by: @/saradika
Divider by: @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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starrygnome · 2 months
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A vision of a mysterious women
As Viktor Blackthorne, the vampire, grappled with the perplexing visions of Livia Rae Valentore, a mysterious woman haunting his thoughts, he found himself increasingly troubled and bewildered. The dreams and visions seemed to defy explanation, stirring a deep sense of curiosity and concern within him. Unable to shake off the enigmatic allure of these encounters, he resolved to seek counsel from his old confidant, Vladimir Struds.
Vladimir, a seasoned and astute vampire elder, resided in a secluded manor nestled within the shadows of the Forgotten Hollows. Viktor knew that if anyone could shed light on the cryptic nature of his visions, it would be Vladimir.
With purpose coursing through his undead veins, Viktor embarked on the journey to Vladimir's abode. As he traversed through the mist-laden forests and winding paths, memories of their shared history flooded his mind. Viktor and Vladimir had faced myriad trials together, forging a bond that transcended the ages.
Upon arriving at the ancient manor, Viktor was greeted by the imposing figure of Vladimir, his stoic demeanor softened by a glimmer of recognition. The two vampires exchanged solemn nods before retreating into the dimly lit confines of the manor's study.
Seated across from Vladimir, Viktor recounted the inexplicable visions that plagued him, describing in vivid detail the haunting presence of Livia Rae Valentore. With each word, he hoped to unravel the tangled web of mystery that enshrouded his mind.
Vladimir listened intently, his piercing gaze betraying a hint of intrigue. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke in a voice as ancient as the stones themselves.
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"Visions such as these are not to be taken lightly, Viktor," Vladimir began, his tone grave yet measured. "They may herald the onset of a greater destiny, one intertwined with forces beyond our comprehension."
Viktor's brow furrowed in confusion, his thirst for understanding growing ever more insatiable. "But who is this woman, Vladimir? What connection does she hold to my existence?"
Vladimir's lips curled into a wry smile, a spark of recognition igniting within his ageless eyes. "Livia Rae Valentore… A name steeped in mystery and shadow," he murmured, as if invoking a long-forgotten incantation. "Her origins are veiled in obscurity, yet her presence resonates with a power that transcends mortal understanding."
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As the weight of Vladimir's words settled upon him, Viktor felt a surge of determination coursing through his immortal being. Though the road ahead remained shrouded in uncertainty, he knew that confronting the enigma of Livia Rae Valentore would be his greatest trial yet.
With renewed resolve, Viktor Blackwell embarked on a journey that would test the very limits of his immortal soul, guided by the cryptic wisdom of his old friend and the echoing whispers of destiny.
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This part of Generation Three where we meet Viktor Blackthorne, who has recently been having visions of a mysterious young women. This young women is our Heir Livia Rae Valentore.
In these visions Viktor sees a much older Livia while the current one is still an infant.
created a story by chatGPT :D
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drowned-bitch · 1 year
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Could it be... blood?
I welcome you, my lovely creature, to the flooded gates of my humble abode. If you want to speak with me, I want you to give me all the gory details of your life, your social security number, your credit card info... and a kiss.
I’m only joking, of course. Please... come sit with me. But that kiss doesn’t sound too bad...~
[[OOC: Hi everyone!! My name is Sawyer (any pronouns), any follows/likes/etc. will be coming from my main blog @prinxejeanne. This blog is meant to represent the man in sunglasses from "The Drowned Man" series that Markiplier made on his channel a few years back, who I portray as the murderous ghost of a man named Daniel Rivers that died in the 1970s. This blog used to be found at @drowned-bitch-archive, but I moved it here for convenience!! Feel free to message me with any questions :>]]
[[Please be aware that any 18+ content on this blog will be posted with the tag "Minors DNI"— if I see minors or ageless blogs interacting with content that has this tag, you will be blocked unless I know your age personally. Blogs that have 18+, 21+, etc. are okay! If I find out that minors are interacting despite this boundary I placed, I will start blocking every minor that interacts with this blog. Seriously.]]
[[An OC blog that I also run is @lost-in-gardener, and this is my current hyperfixation so PLEASE interact if any of their storylines seem interesting to you. I am the host of a system, and some of my headmates also run RP blogs— those accounts are @bastardeternal, @bimtrimmerextraordinaire, and @last-curtain-call.]]
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lostalienchild · 4 months
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Debts Repaid (Miko x Ayaka)
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Summary: "Now Ayato, don't you think I deserve a little reward for all my hard effort?"
Warnings: Dub-con, 69, spit play
not proof read
Ageless, men, and minors DNI
A quiet and tranquil evening graced the Kamisato abode. A rare but welcomed site. Rain pounded outside the renji-mado (window)of the office, the room dancing in the dim light of the oil lamps. The combination of the pitter-patter of fallen rain and soft sweeping was so relaxing, that the normally distressed Kamisato elder involuntarily let out a yawn. This did not go unnoticed by the aid nearby who offered a chuckle. The sound of sweeping stopped as the blond aide turned to his master.
"Finally feeling relaxed huh? You should take a break. Both of you have been going at it for a while." Ayato rubbed his eyes before squinting and looking outside the renji-mado. The world was light enough to see, however the heavy cloud cover made smaller details too dim to see with the eye. In the dark blue hue of the fading sun, a dark figure repeatedly raises a katana overhead before slamming it down vertically in front of itself. The smell of petrichor cut into his nose as a small smile spread across his face. If not for the knowledge that his sister was such a headstrong trainer, he would have assumed her a warrior. A strong conviction on a small frame, her cutthroat attitude surpassed even his own. 
"I think we should leave her be." The oldest turned back towards his desk before adjusting his montsuki and standing. His sitting bones ached and it took a moment before the pain subsided enough for him to walk without pain. "It's only been a few days since she regained the courage to even leave her room. We're all trying to get back to normal now." It had in fact only been a few months since the near collapse of the clan. The once gleeful and cheerful atmosphere of the estate had fallen into a glum and dim downpour, mirroring the melancholic weather outside, and eventually so too did the smile that once graced his sister's face. Both siblings found themselves fighting for their family name, but after the storm had passed, they were left with only remnants of their childhood home, which now seemed more of a museum for memories rather than an actual home. Ayaka's reignited drive to train in kendo was one of the few things that gave him any motivation. If she could continue on, so too could he. Once comfortable enough he began to head towards the entrance to his office. Once at the threshold, he turned to address the aide. "For now... how ab-"
"Master Kamisato." Another servant came forward interrupting his thoughts. "I apologize for the intrusion, You have a visitor." The employee bowed. Ayato thought that the servant was unusually short with their words, but left the thought at that as they scurried off. The blond aide stepped out of the shoji frame to follow his master into the hall. 
"A guest? It's a bit late isn't it," asked Thoma. "Well that depends, let's see who it is," Ayato replied cooly. Upon entering the main foyer there stood a tall and eccentric shrine maiden. A welcomed and not unusual site to see at the estate. Miko often came by to the estate for a myriad of different reasons, so much so that it was more unusual to not see her at least once in a fortnight. "Miko, what a plesant surprise. And impeccable timing might I add. I was just about to suggest to Thomas that we take a tea break. Would you like to join us?" The pink fox continued to brush herself off as she listened to the elder sibling, priming the damp sleeves of her kimono. "Ayato," she sang, "well I'm glad to see that the dreary weather has not affected your mood. As for the tea, dont mind if I do."
Thoma placed the yunomi in front of the maiden before pouring the tea into the reciprocal. Ayato and Miko sat across from one another on their own respective zabutans. Miko smiled as the steam mingled with the smell of rain and danced into her nose. A light scent mixed with a deep, earthy smell. "Well Miko, what brings you to the estate this particular evening? A new light novel need reviewing perhaps?" Miko hummed as she sipped her tea, cupping the bottom of the cup with precision manners, cultivated by years of practice. "Now now, do I always need a reason to see an old friend of mine? It's not like we're strangers after all. I was simply stopping by to check on my favorite siblings. I'm glad to see you're still in good spirits. How's the little one doing?" Ayato returned Miko's smile and looked outside. The sky had grown much darker since the start of their meeting and the figure that was once outside further in the courtyard was now outside the door. The shoji door slid open to reveal a silver-haired maiden. Her Keikogi and Hakama were soaked from the rain. A servant had come forward and offered her a towel. The girl came in dabbing her face before her gaze fell upon the scene of Miko and her brother in front of her. Miko looked her over. Her flushed expression was exacerbated by the fact that she had been training. Her hair clung to her face. Her silver eyes were wide and round with surprise. her clothes clung to her body. Her normally white fluffy hair dangled in silver strands. Quickly gathering the towel in both hands she leaned forward and bowed, water dripping from her bangs scattering on the wood floor. "Ni-san, Miko-san, I was not aware we had guests." 
Miko raised her hand and waived it as if waiving away the formalities. "Now now Ayaka-kun, it's just me. No need for the formalities." 
"Right, then please allow me to freshen up before joining you." 
"Of course, take your time little one." With that, Ayaka bowed once again and hurried off down a hall out of sight. "We'll it's good to see shes getting on well," Miko hummed as she turned her attention back to the elder Kamisato. Thoma, who had sat at the end of the chabudai chimed in. "Shes been training harder than ever. Trying to convince her to take a break every now and then is like pulling teeth."
Ayato chuckled at Thoma's words. "Ayaka has struggled these past few months. She is just now starting to come back into herself. Thoma and I have been giving her some space to come back around. Honestly, seeing her work so hard puts my mind at ease. It feels like I'm getting my younger sibling back."
Miko listened to both of the men's words before responding. "That's wonderful news. I was worried about the poor thing after not seeing or hearing about the poor girl for months on end. Certainly, you wouldn't allow her to lock herself away in her room never to be seen again would you?" "Well of course not, but if Ayaka herself is not ready to make a public appearance I certainly cannot force her." Ayato replied. "We'll that brings me to my next question, how long has it been since the young lady has left the manor?" Thoma glanced at Ayato for confirmation before addressing Miko. "Hmm, maybe around five months?" 
"Five months you say? now that just wont do. It's not good for such a young woman to keep herself locked away. She'll become a hikikomori in no time at all." Miko shook her head and crossed her arms. "My original intention was to check in on you two, but now that I'm here don't you think it would be a good idea to let her get dime fresh air? Why don't I bring her back to the shrine with me for a while?" 
"The shrine?" Ayato repeated. "Yes. It's quiet, tranquil, and close enough to the estate. A prefect place to take a brief reprieve don't you agree?" "This isn't another one of your ways of getting out of your shrine maiden duties is it," asked thoma, tepid accusation coming off his tongue. "Thoma, surely you wouldn't think so lowly of me that I push my duties to a poor girl do you?"
"Hmm. Fair enough." Ayato stood. Miko's pink lips spread across her face. Those words sealed the deal. When Ayaka returned to the common area she saw the threesome standing as if they were about to see their vistor off. "Oh, Lady Miko. Are you leaving already?" The maiden's visits were brief, but not this brief."
"Don't worry little one, you'll be coming with me.""Oh?" Ayaka looked to her brother in confusion. Ayato responded to Ayaka's request for an explanation."The Head Priestess has offered to take you out for the evening. It has been a while since you left the manor. And Periodic outings may prove beneficial for maintaining a sense of normalcy and eventually a return to regular routines. Besides the shrine is quite close." An approving nod from Thoma followed. Miko took all of this in carefully before maneuvering herself behind the confused girl and placing her hands on her shoulders. She leaned in near the girl's face until their cheeks were touching. "I'll have her back by morning," Ayaka swears her teeth looked sharper than normal.____A fusha wagasa stood lone on the wet trail up to Mt Yogou. Violet fireflies danced in and out of the darkness. The sound of Miko's sing-song voice and sandals on wet stone disturbed some of the foxes on the trail. Despite working alongside Miko for years, it was still quite rare for them to be able to speak one one-on-one. They regularly met at different festivals and planning events, however, the conversations there were kept brief and professional. Miko was a busy woman after all. After all the formal jargon at their meetings together, Ayaka found Miko's more casual form of speech a bit dizzying to keep up with. She barraged her with questions and followed up with her own comments, making it difficult for Ayaka to ask her own questions. "How is that brother of yours? Has he managed to find a lover just yet? That brother of yours and what's his name? Oh right, Thoma. Those two seem awfully close. But you know what they say, you should marry your best friend." While Ayaka didn't particularly mind the casual banter, she felt a tinge of discomfort with the intimacy of the subject matter. Additionally, she found herself somewhat flustered, yearning for a more balanced conversation with Miko, one where she felt engaged rather than merely spoken at."And what about you?" Miko suddenly turned her attention to the young woman as they reached the landing of the shrine. Behind them, Tenshukaku stood proudly. The landscape beneath them dotted with violet atop green and surrounded by the indigo of the ocean. Little toy houses came alight as their residents returned. Truly despite everything, despite the near fall of her clan, she still felt love for her island. With all of this in mind it made her want to stay out longer, a stark contrast to how she'd been feeling as of late. However, she was sure she was not ready to face the public again.Using her adept social skills, Ayaka reacted quickly to change the subject. "Lady Miko, why don't we talk about somethi-""Miko.""Hmm?""Miko will do for tonight."The fox's words hinted at the notion that tonight there would be no need for formalities, that somehow tonight was a particularly special night. It was rather thoughtful of Miko to offer her a night out after all. It was normal to worry about your friends, perhaps that was the reason. That and Miko's natural easy-going nature. The two had entered one of Miko's abodes and The fox was shaking the excess rain of the wagasa before placing it into a nearby holder. "Come now. No need to get so shy. It's just girl talk." Miko put her hand on Ayaka's shoulder gently, but firmly enough to hint to the girl that she wanted her to guide her deeper within the abode.The two women set next to one another on their own respective wagases with a view that overlooked the ocean just behind the Sacred Sakura. The full moon illuminated the room. Miko's abode was simple yet elegant. The room smelled of cherry blossoms and there was even a bouquet of qingxins
that was gifted to her by an old friend from Liyue. Since she had missed out on the tea served at the previous gathering, Miko made her a fresh batch. The beverage warmed her belly. Something she was grateful for since the walk up to the shrine had been a chilly one due to the rain. She was even more grateful when the woman offered her a blanket. The soft fabric caressed her skin. Despite her cryo vision giving her a higher tolerance to cold, she still preferred to be warm. Miko leaned against her catching her attention, she had absent =midnedly noticed a laps in the conversation, but was caught up in her appreciation. "You feel rather chilly, dear. Poor thing." Miko cooed at Ayaka while running a hand through her bangs. They were still damp from her post-training shower that she had taken right after Miko's earlier arrival. "You know, you shouldn't train in the rain. You'll catch a cold." Miko leaned in. The hand that was originally running through white bangs rand down Ayaka's cheek to grip her chin. "Let me warm you up." Miko leaned forward and placed a passionate kiss on the young lady’s lips.
The fox’s lips were soft and warm. Nothing like Ayaka had felt before. She thought of the distant memories of her parents kissing after praying over her sleeping form as a child and found no correlation. The sensation on her lips along with the flood of heat pooling in between her legs were a foreign sensation entirely. Instinctively, Ayaka grasped that there was something deeper in this kiss—primal instinct. Ayaka understood it primally. However, Her role as a leader and the principles ingrained in her upbringing vehemently rejected the notion of engaging in a scandalous encounter, especially within the sacred confines of a shrine! “Lady Miko!” Ayaka pushed her hands against the towering figure, but Miko did not budge. Instead, she held the younger woman’s wrists and pulled her back into her. The fox wrapped her arms around the younger and looked into her eyes. “I told you to call me Miko” Her tone was harsher and demanding, as if correcting an underling’s misbehavior, but just as quickly, her tone softened. “What do you want right now Ayaka?” Her soft hands caressed the younger’s cheek again. “Listen to your body. It’ll do you no good to suffer alone.”
Ayaka weakly countered. Where had all her strength gone? “I-it’s indecent…” Gentle astonishment appeared on the heron’s face when she saw the fox laugh, her fangs sparkling in dim candlelight and cold moon gleam. “My dear,” Miko leaned in closer, Ayaka could see the pools of tears that had collected at the coroner of the fox's eyes from her previous laughing fit. “The shrine’s will encourages one to express their true selves. Besides, you're with me, the guuji, if it were that wrong do you think I would allow for it?” A small gasp of realization from the smaller prompted Miko to slide her hands down her arms, up to her shoulders, then down her sides before resting them on her waist. Ayaka shivered. Small sparks of electricity followed the fox’s palms. “Believe me, I can purge even the most hidden of vices, Miko chided.” And with that Ayaka was swallowed once again in a deep kiss that made her drop all of her inhibitions. It felt good. Warm and tingling. But too hot, suddenly the warm tea in her belly felt like it had come to a boil and despite her cryo nature, she could feel herself starting to sweat again. Her chest was pounding and her head felt light and heavy at the same time. Miko broke the kiss to look into the shorter’s eyes. Ayaka's breaths came out in heaves. Her cool cryo-breath mixed with the warmth of the room causing condensation to form as she huffed. Her cool skin was now tinted in a layer of red as blood rushed to the surface. Her eyelids droopy and her pupils dilated. Suddenly her hakama was pulled open by pink fingers. The cooler air came as a relief despite Ayaka’s now diminished reservations. Her nipples hardened under Miko’s gaze. “Oh my, well look at these. Aren't these just adorable. Miko trail kisses all the way down from her cheeks to the hardened buds, Ayaka squeaking with each spark from the fox; 's lips. A wet tongue swirled around taupe areolas then suddenly flicking across the very tip causing Ayaka to shake and squeal. Miko did not let the girl rest as she switch back and forth between each breast, nibbling and sucking, pinching between sharp teeth in quick succession. Ayaka's fingers tangled between pink locks, all the while the slick continued to gather between her legs.
Ayaka was pushed onto her back. She felt cold claws reach under fabric and yank at her fundoshi, exposing her pink puss to the warm air. Miko rubbed hard and slow circles over the woman’s clit as she continued her previous attack on her breasts. Miko savored the taste of each piece of flesh that entered her mouth. Small purple bite marks swelled around Ayaka’s areolas. She moaned in surprise when Miko continued to nip a trail of love bites down her tummy. Miko’s slender tongue wrapped around her sensitive pearl. She mewled at the sudden contact, electricity forcing her back to arch. The room became cloudy with condensation, steam coming in whisps and coating their bodies in a wet sheen. Miko’s warm, wet tongue continued to flick relentlessly before abruptly slowing down. Ayaka whined at the loss of contact. She bucked her hips forward, desperate to reclaim her high. “M-miko?”
“There it is.” Miko moaned out. “Beg for me.”
The inferno in her chilled body shot up exponentially. All decorum that had been trained into her fled at once. Shame left no trace in her body as she begged. “Miko, please. I need it. Need your mouth.” Miko was more than satisfied with this. She was not expecting the head commissioner to break so quickly. Poor thing must have been so deprived, thought Miko. Without another word, she dipped back in between Ayaka’s folds. Ayaka’s lower body was enveloped in a heat unlike any other. Each flick of Miko’s skilled tongue had her seeing stars, and just when she thinks she's about to reach her climax the next flick of Miko’s tongue only takes her higher. Amidst her moans and convulsions, she is just barely able to mutter out a brief and broken “faster”. Miko, not wanting to frustrate the girl too much since it seemed like she was not too experienced, immediately obliged. She did not want to give the woman a bad impression. She would have plenty of time to tease her later. Only a few flicks at the heightened pace sent Ayaka over the edge. She released in a beautiful broken sob. White knuckles held Miko’s head in place as the younger woman came down from her high. Ayaka collapsed in an exhausted heap, puffs of white condensation leaving with each exhalation. Once released, Miko sat up. Licking her lips post-meal, she crawled up face to face with her prey. Ayaka stared back at the priestess through hooded eyes as puffs of condensation still left her heaving lips. Miko pulled off her haiku, letting her full breasts spill out onto the cooler woman’s chest. Pink hardening to a deeper pink at the cooling temperature. “My turn little mouse. Now stick your tongue out.” Ayaka obliged sticking out her small tongue past her pink lips. Leaning down Miko sucked on the wet muscle, intertwining her tongue with hers. Their saliva intermingled and ran down Ayaka’s chin and pooled in the back of her throat, causing her to sputter.
Once satisfied with the mixture of saliva dripping from their mouths, Miko backed up and turned around so her pink snatch was right above Ayaka’s face. Pulling her fundoshi to the side she placed her clit on Ayakas cool tongue. The cool sensation caused Miko’s clit to pulsate, heightening the sensitivity. Miko wet two of her fingers and teased the outside of Ayaka’s slit, circling her fingers around her entrance. Ayaka moaned in anticipation, an itch that she could not scratch appeared in her center, and she knew Miko could reach it. Miko began to grind on Ayaka’s protruding tongue. She inserted both fingers, pumping them in time with her grinding. The primal satisfaction of being filled sent hot pleasure through the younger's womb. Moans spilled out only to be muffled between the fox's wet core. Miko hit her bundle of nerves so perfectly. The fox’s claws became more and more wet with slick. The air was impossibly thick with condensation. Miko let out a series of short, low-pitched moans amidst Ayaka’s longer and high-pitched ones. Suddenly Ayaka’s legs hitched as she reached her peak. A long moan escaped her lips. Miko continued to pump her fingers in and out from between the woman's trembling legs, liquid squirting out with each pump and coating the tatami mats. ”Oh yeah little mouse, get it all out, all of it,” she coaxed. Miko, having more endurance than her shorter counterpart, continued to grind down her slack-jawed mouth. She sat up and began to grind more quickly, grabbing her breast with one hand and using the other to steady herself. Ayaka’s cool tongue on her clit ignited the nerve endings in her clit. The wet sound of slick, skin slapping against skin, slippery arousal running down Ayaka’s chin mixed with saliva, Miko allowed herself to get lost in all of it. With a small groan, she came quickly, arching her back.
As both of them came down from their high, Miko moved off of Ayaka's face to kneel beside her. She gazed upon Ayaka’s reddened face. Her red mouth glistened with cum. She leaned down and kissed the heron on her swollen lips. “Don’t pass out on me now little one. We’re just getting started.”
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ratskcoreddie · 1 year
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welcome to my humble abode. please be courteous and read the following rules & introduction before following my account. thanks! i hope you enjoy the show! ↓
im very thankful that you’re visiting my blog! this corner of tumblr is my safe space and i plan to keep it that way. to help me do this here’s a few things before you start trekking around these parts. please be kind and considerate to my boundaries.
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before you follow & interact with me:
my blog is an nsfw, fem!reader blog. i write content and consume / repost media that is 18+. be aware that if you under the age of eighteen you should not view this blog. if you follow me and are blank or ageless you will be blocked. if you are an account that post nsfw content but have a 16+ in your bio, that makes me uncomfortable and you will be blocked! minors stay away!
if you ignore these requests and read my works i am not responsible, your media consumption is your own responsibility and i will not be held accountable for what you indulge in.
(everyone on this site is fully aware that minors have accounts on tumblr, i speak on behalf of all adult fanfiction writers that we hope you respect our boundaries when it comes to our NSFW content. you will be blocked.)
all of my fanfiction warnings will be tagged to the best of my abilities, if there is anything that even might be triggering it will be tagged. as far as other things go i am human and will miss things from time to time. be patient with me as i update tags after posting.
any form of racism, homophobia, sexism, bullying, transphobia is not tolerated from anyone on my account. there are somethings i will write about that deal with bullying, homophobia, or sexism but all of my writings are FICTIONAL. they do not reflect my views & will always be tagged.
any comments, likes, reblogs, or asks are greatly appreciated. i'm not on my phone a ton so don't worry about if you're spamming me! it doesn't really phase me. however, i am quiet shy! you can try messaging me through my inbox, but i can’t guarantee i will chat up or answer questions right away. i will try my best!
(if you’re creepy, rude, a blank / ageless blog, weird to me, racist, sexist, xenophobic, or if your vibes are just absolutely wretched, you will be blocked.)
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about me:
i've never been great at introductions, but here goes.
my name is eri! i'm twenty-two, & i'm a june gemini. my name is just a nickname because i have a really unique name outside of the tumblr verse and would hate for anyone to find my account, but i’ve gone by this name on other sites such as twitter for awhile! my handle is rockstareddie but backwards; ratskcoreddie, hope that makes sense! i use she/they pronouns and i work in the entertainment industry. i love strawberrys, my favorite colors are red and beige. i have a pretty extravagant music taste and love traveling.
i'm apologize for being so short. i’m very conservative when it comes to telling people about myself over the internet (digital footprint and all that) but i hope i can convey some of my personality through my works and writings!
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about my works:
again, content warnings for my writings will be tagged on every single work, i will try my best to be thorough and tag everything! please always remember to check the tags for my works.
im currently working on a series in the au i’ve created, four parts are already done and they will be posted every tuesday between the times 4:00 pm - 11:00 pm. after these four queued post i will definitely slow down on posting!
please don’t post my works on other websites. it’s okay to comment, like, and repost! comments are highly appreciated; willing to accept feedbacks and requests for new fics as well. i also love receiving recommendations. send anything my way!
i appreciate each of you! if you'd like to support me with a reblog or a comment (something as simple as you key smashing in the tags or responding to my work motivates me to write more), i'd love that! thanks so much for even checking out my blog!
characters i will write about:
tldr: eddie munson, steve harrington.
currently, i only write for steve harrington, eddie munson, and in the stranger things universe. this is probably what im going to stick to on my blog. there will be appearances from other characters (but only to benefit the story i'm writing).
tropes i will write about:
stranger to friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, forbidden love, second chance, soulmates, fake relationship, sworn off relationships, oblivious to love, ect.
topics i will write about:
im comfortable with writing with fluff, smut, and angst. each of my works will be tagged with what topic they follow. if a work of mine contains heavy angst, extreme fluff, or a lot of smut, i can assure you it will be tagged!
tropes & topics i wont write about: (tw)
please understand that i wont write anything that makes me uncomfortable. such as ddlg, cheating, incest, self-harm, large age gaps, noncon, cnc, power dynamics, ect. nor will i share ask that make me uncomfortable. if you send me an ask that contains triggering material you will be blocked.
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well, hello again! welcome to the bottom of my rules, you've made it! thank you for reading!!! please know that i’ll update this post periodically if i think of anything else to add in the future. i'll be sure to let you know when i do with a reblog & tag or comment.
thanks for reading & enjoy your stay!
★masterlist || ← go back home? || join my taglist
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ensnchekov-a · 1 year
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@my-timing-is-digital, x.
An abandoned, dilapidated building on the outskirts of a Federation colony had been his temporary residence — hideout would be a more appropriate epithet to ascribe to this former domicile — for less than a week. The partially disintegrated walls were permanently damp, and draughts wailed lugubriously and at irregular intervals. The sonic phenomenon was, regrettably, an accurate rendition of his present disposition, but to him this was a consolidation rather than an undesirable disturbance; despite his ineptitude to express the state of his emotion, it fascinated him that an element, such as air, could articulate it immaculately. He had deliberately opted to deactivate the chip indefinitely, for he had anticipated the possibility that a frenzy of unquenchable rage could corrupt every last particle of his programming if it remained operative, and thus would provide the Federation with a legitimate reason to apprehend, decommission, and dismantle him should a subsequent conflict lead to casualties. His error would be the pinnacle of their evidence against all synthetic lifeforms; it would corroborate the falsifications the Federation had been spewing at everyone who cared to listen, that androids are compromised and dangerous. Fortunately for him, not everyone believed this preposterous malarkey.
    Someone has been stalking me. The words enunciated by his young associate lacerated through the silence that had engulfed him for over two hours. His ponderous frown levelled out as he turned to face the boy; a youthful countenance staring back at an ageless one. Pavel Chekov was a promising Starfleet officer who had discontinued his career to become a benefactor for a fugitive android who was in desperate need of assistance. Admittedly, Data had increased his vigilance the first three days they spent together, but over the course of 7 weeks, his mental pathways had grown accustomed to Pavel’s sensory input patterns — much quicker than he had initially anticipated. He was fond of the boy, and if they had met under different circumstances he would have gladly introduced him to his old friends and invited him to attend one of Riker’s renowned poker nights. Perhaps some day, in the distant future...
    ‘Ah, I see. Did you manage to shake them off?’ he enquired placidly.
    Chekov’s active affiliation with an individual the Federation deemed highly volatile and extremely dangerous had automatically turned him into a menace to society as well. Perhaps one of the locals, or one of the law enforcers had recognised his face from the news flashes that frequently littered the many screens in people’s abodes, and consequently decided to pursue him to locate the android’s sanctuary.
    ‘Did you procure the supplies you required?’ Data asked curiously; although he could go months without nourishments, which came in the form of his bio-lubricants, Pavel could not.
One fleeting glance at Pavel might be enough for someone to think that he's made a foolish decision or he has been corrupted and led on by these dangerous synthetics, for he is too young to really appreciate the ramifications of his actions. At only nineteen years old, already two years out of the academy and with such a bright future blazing on the horizon, how could he possibly understand that he had thrown this all away to become a person of interest—a radical—just as dangerous to the population as the people he was advocating for?
Before the academy, he'd carved a road of numerous successes and academic achievements. Genius, they'd called him, accepted at fifteen, a full officer by seventeen.
A long, scrutinising look at Pavel would reveal near-unrivalled intelligence burning behind the green of his eyes and a determination to match. It would reveal a man who understood exactly what he was doing, who sat and thought extensively about it and chose this path nevertheless.
He had no regrets. Not even when it meant that moving around could have him snapped up by the authorities and questioned—or worse—for information at any second, or all his security clearances were revoked, or even that the place they were calling home smelled of mildew, rot, and stale water.
Pavel busies himself with unpacking the bag he'd stuffed to capacity and laying everything out in what might have once been a nice kitchen if the elements hadn't gotten to it. He doesn't even attempt to bite back his scoff, throwing an incredulous look Data's way as he replies, "You cannot really believe I would let them follow me back here. I made sure to lose them in a crowd before coming back."
He always has been good at slipping away.
He purses his lips, thinking of the unsettling knifepoints of an unknown gaze he can still feel burying themselves in his shoulderblades.
"I did. There's no working replicator here, but these things will last for a while without going bad. This also made me think. Disguising ourselves while we're moving around here may not be a bad idea. If we are going to keep investigating this lead, it will help us. So I got these, too."
He pulls out a few sets of tightly folded clothes and hands one over to Data, a set of dark slacks and a shirt with a rather interesting pattern on it. "Don't ask where I got them, but these should fit you."
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ltash · 9 days
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ASH
I love my haters, they taste so good
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Girl's team.
Hi! This is Ash. Your Lieutenant Colonel Ash 💋
30- She/Her
Arabic Pakistani (Pentalingual)
💀 Addict/ 🐇 Mom
Near Death survivor/ Kienbocks Warrior.
Serving in Pak Army as Lieutenant.
Welcome to my heavenly abode. Its my fortress of solitude.
My Content: 18+ and some MDNI. Strictly not for minors. I will block ageless and minors if I see them trotting around here. I mainly write on wattpad but post my one-shots here too.
Thanks for sticking around.
💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀
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