#constructive criticism is welcome since this is the first time i'm writing them
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hot summer night
🍶 miyako + iori //
[day 6] exam (challenge) - for @digiweek 2022
for this day, i'm trying to write about that one dynamic (and perhaps two characters) i rarely wrote about. this fic was tricky to write and i even finished this the last one among all the digiweek contents i created. but that's what this day is about, right? and frankly i'm happy with the result!
this fic was inspired by this fanart. the first time i saw it, i knew i had to write about iori accompanying drunk miyako someday. this fic sets before kizuna and before miyako left for spain. idk why i remembered miyako having an exchange program instead of being a full-time student in barcelona. let's just assume it that way in this case, and sorry if i was wrong. at least i correctly implied miyako as a gemini (this is canon fyi).
also, no, this is not a romance fic between those two, even though it has hot in the title (sorry i'm on title block so i only snatched one of the script's song titles). there's a minor kenyako, though. happy reading!
___
Iori found Miyako in front of his cram school that night in June, looking very standout with her purple strands and cherry-tinted lips. It was easy to be in the limelight when you wore makeup and shirts with striking colours among students with crumpled uniforms and weary faces after studying for the whole day.
“Iori-kuuun!”
Her high-pitched voice didn’t sound like a mature college woman, however.
Iori sighed, getting a second-hand embarrassment because everyone’s attention diverted to him after she echoed his name. He proceeded to walk out and approached her, asking the obvious, “Miyako-san, what are you doing here?”
“Meanie. Is that something appropriate to greet to your senpai?” Miyako pouted for a second before returning to her jolly mood. “I happen to be around so I figure I can ask you to accompany me for a dinner.”
He glanced at her feet and atop of her head, only to find something was missing. “Where is Hawkmon?”
“Oh, I told Hawkmon to fly to your house with some food from my konbini. Armadimon is home, ne?” she responded. “Come on, Iori-kun. It’s been a long time since we had fun just the two of us. Isn’t this a perfect time now that I’m going to leave next week and the others are too busy with their freshmen stuff?”
It was not a bad idea at all. He initially planned to grab a takeaway because his mother and grandfather were out of town, but now with Armadimon’s dinner settled, he didn’t have to worry about his partner starving alone.
He just didn’t know that Miyako also had her own plan of ordering a bottle of sake right when they just stepped inside the yatai tent.
Iori took a seat beside her, eyeing her ever so cautiously. He remembered the day Miyako turned twenty last May, and she decided to celebrate it by secretly grabbing a can of beer from her store. She posted its photo in their group chat, prompting joyous reactions from Mimi and Taichi, in addition to a jealous wail from Daisuke. Miyako then seemed to embark on her personal adulthood venture, trying different types of liquor ever since.
“…you do understand that I am still a minor, don’t you?” he said as he watched her pouring the sake into a cup.
“And why do you think that will stop me? It’s not like I’m asking you to drink along.”
“Just because I’m younger than you, that doesn’t mean I cannot tell you off.”
“Well, can you?”
He could, for real. He just chose not to.
Miyako then chuckled. “Don’t worry. It’s because you’re with me that I have to drink more responsibly. What will people say if they see a high schooler carrying a drunk woman home?” She took her first shot and whooped right after her cup was empty. “Ahh, this is sooo good! You’re going to love this once you turn legal.”
“To be honest, I cannot see myself drinking even when I reach the right age.”
“Aw, what a shame. I look forward to coming back here and sharing sake with you.”
He pondered, sipping his ice tea. “Well, perhaps I can make an exception for you.”
“Right? I don’t think lawyers can survive without attending nomikai,” Miyako instigated as she snatched the first fresh-grilled yakitori from their plate. “Speaking of which, is that what you really want to aim for? Go to law school and become an attorney?”
“That’s the plan for now,” Iori also grabbed a negima but did not bite into it before he finished with his answer. “I know it’s hard to enter a law school, so that’s why I sign up for cram school as early as possible.”
“Yeah, but I just—” Miyako sighed. “I don’t want you to keep studying and let your youth pass without having fun. You’re only in high school once, so do something crazy. Skip a class, have some dates, go on a summer vacation with your friends….”
Iori paused, looking at his faint reflection on the glass.
“I am having fun,” he continued. “I have a great time battling monsters and saving the world. It makes me realise that I want to fight for the right thing and help people to get out of iniquity. And I believe becoming a lawyer is a good way to accomplish that.”
He was aware of how idealistic he sounded just then. If he was with other people, they would certainly be laughing at his words, telling him that the world was too cruel of a place for justice to prevail and he should just stick to a dream that was more within his proximity.
But he wasn’t with other people right now. He was with Miyako, who cracked a smile while looking at him with proud glimmering behind her spectacles.
“That’s just really you,” she said. “I know you’re a good kid the moment I laid my eyes on you. And I hope you know that I’m always rooting for you, no matter what. After all, I’m the big sis who just loves my reliable Iori-kun a bit too much!”
And that was when Iori couldn’t help but giggle. He was used to people calling him mature even when he was a little boy, but once he wore the high school uniform and felt a lump growing in his throat, it was still surreal for him how he really reached the age of adolescence. That was why he was glad to have Miyako around because she was a constant reminder of how he would still be someone’s little brother.
Her phone suddenly vibrated above the table, and as she picked up to see what was on the screen, Iori noticed her face getting a bit red. Somehow, he reckoned it wasn’t because of the sake, yet he didn’t want to pry further so he chose another topic. “How’s your departure preparation?”
“No hay problema! I’m leaving on Wednesday’s noon, though, so I guess you can’t set me off to the airport.”
“Ne, sorry for that.” It was rather unfortunate for him that Miyako chose to fly to Barcelona instead of using the Digital Gate for the sake of enjoying that wanderlust feeling. Iori started to consider whether this would be the right time to skip a class just like she advised just now. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“Hmm. Just promise me to pick up when I video-call you,” she said before quickly adding, “oh, oh, I know! You can visit me during your summer break. Ask Ken and the others to join too!”
Just like that, he easily solved the puzzle. “Ichijouji-san?”
“Ah, yes! He’s helping me learn Spanish even though he’s busy with college,” Miyako responded, and Iori could hear her voice turn jovial at once. “He even texted me just now to check my progress. I think I should go meet him tomorrow.”
There was something stirring inside him that he tried to brush off by picking up another skewer. However, it was obvious he didn’t sound so thrilled when he blurted out, “Oh.”
And Miyako caught his reaction with pleasure. “I thought you no longer hate him.”
“I don’t hate him.”
“Are you jealous, then?”
“No.”
But boy, did he never stray too far from the truth.
After all, he was a little brother who just cared about his big sis a bit too much.
#digimon#digiweek2022#by me#fic#ioyako#is that the name of this dynamic??#or is it miyaori??#iori hida#miyako inoue#constructive criticism is welcome since this is the first time i'm writing them#also i know that's a beer image not sake lmao#couldn't find a better pic#digimon adventure 02
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Yay, I finally finished the first chapter of my new fic...
†Our cursed love†
This is my first time writing an actual fic so it might not be that good, constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! I would really like to know your opinions on what I'm doing right and wrong, things I should change and so forth.
A little PS this is not going to be absolutely canon, there will be some changes to the lore and techniques so be warned. I am also fully up to date on the manga so there will be manga spoilers.
Please enjoy the first chapter of ‡Our cursed love‡.
No warnings
~_Our cursed love._~
Chapter 1- Our pedestal.
~No one POV:~
The day is like any other day to most people. The sun blazing high in the bright blue sky, perfect white fluffy clouds dot the sky, moving along swiftly with the breeze. The sound of streets full of vehicles and streets full of people fills the air.
The day was like any other to non-sorcerers.
They all go about their lives, completely oblivious to the two Gods currently walking among them, blissfully unaware of the evil seeking to destroy these two Gods.
The day was like any other to the two Gods. Aware they’re being hunted but unaware of each other.
It’s true what they say, ‘ignorance is bliss’ and our two Gods will have to learn that lesson the hard way.
~3rd Person POV~
A young boy, around the age of 9 walks with an unusually cold face for a child wearing a blue hoodie with beige shorts and black sneakers. His expression isn’t the only eye catching thing about him, his eyes are quite simply breathtaking. Strikingly brilliant sky blue orbs. His short, fluffy white hair gently swaying in the breeze.
To passers by he seems like a relatively normal child with oddly spectacular looks but normal is not a word fit to describe this God.
Satoru Gojo decided to take a trip to Shibuya for no other reason than boredom. He knows it’s ‘dangerous’ because of the many, many bounties on his head but does he care? No, of course not.
Why would he care? He’s a ‘God’ right? All these fools are beneath him, besides its clear that none of them would even be a problem, he might be 9 but he knows his place in this world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he’s been born with and he knows how to use it -albeit not well- one glare is enough to dissuade anyone crazy enough to target him.
He can sense them all around him, thinking they’re hiding their cursed energy well but nothing can get past his six eyes, nothing.
~10 minutes earlier~
A young boy with long grey hair tied into a neat pony wearing a (f/c) shirt and (2/f/c) pants that are clearly too big for him and a pair of (f/c) boots steps out of a fancy black car in the middle of Shibuya. The 9 year old closes the door and the car drives off, left unattended which would be odd if he were just a boy, although his expression is somewhat normal for a boy his age, relatively bored, his eyes hidden by a pair of blacked out glasses with a circular frame.
He confidently makes his way through the busy streets, despite his small size he easily navigates a path through the much taller adults, some only sparing him a brief glance but none question why there’s a clear gap between him and everyone, a physically space none of them an seem to cross, naturally and absentmindedly moving around the boy to avoid it.
M/n Goto is aware of this gap as it’s intentional. He’s practicing although the few hungry pairs of eyes on him are distracting. M/n knows venturing out alone is ‘risky’ because of how valuable he is but hes a God isn’t he? Those fools are beneath him.
They’re clearly trying very hard to hide their cursed energy but alas it’s in vain, M/n sensed them following him since he left his estate. It’s not like any of them would be a problem for him, he knows his place in the world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he was born with and he knows how to use it -thanks to his loving father training him since he could walk-, one glare is enough to dissuade any idiotic enough to try and mess with a God, besides nothing can touch him without his permission, nothing.
~present time~
Destiny is a funny thing, many argue its existence.
If destiny exists then freedom cannot.
If freedom exists then destiny cannot.
Many argue its existence, many chose to deny its existence, they chose freedom.
The freedom of choice.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo both chose to come to Shibuya today because they wanted to, they were bored and chose to do the riskiest thing by leaving unsupervised.
They both chose to walk this random street, they both decided they were tired of being followed and chose to turn around. A completely, random choice.
Completely random.
“Huh-?!”
“What-?!”
Time suddenly stops for two young, lonely, untouchable Gods.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny, so what is this feeling? Not the physical feeling of their shoulders colliding.
This sudden tug, this oddly familiar feeling like meeting a different version of yourself.
Luminous, sparkling sky blue orbs meet now uncovered blazing, blood red orbs and for the first time both are in absolutely awe of another’s appearance.
~M/n POV~
‘He- he bumped into me… his eyes… they’re… how did he-? This feeling… who is he, i feel like I should know… wait… he’s…’
~Satoru POV~
‘I didn’t sense him-? He touched me… i was sure i had it on… those eyes, they’re breathtaking… who is he? Why do i feel like I should know him? Wait… he’s…’
~3rd person POV~
“Cursed.” They both mumble at the same time causing both their eyes to widen, both taking a step back from the other.
The warm, carbon filled air suddenly feels a whole lot more suffocating, the feeling tugging at both of them gets stronger and they both know the other feels it.
It’s an odd sight, two unsupervised 9 year old standing in the middle of a busy Shibuya street just silently staring at each other in what can only be described as bewilderment.
For the longest time they’ve both believed them to have no equal. From the moment they opened their eyes they were forced to live in a word beneath them filled with people beneath them. They were put on pedestals so high no one else could ever hope to climb it and yet…
Their lonely pedestal is apparently bigger than they thought, all they had to do was turn around and be confronted with the other.
A shared pedestal is something everyone told them was impossible, they were born Gods among mortals, they were special, miracles, forever alone.
“Goto M/n…” M/n, finally regaining his brain, blurts out, feeling something he’s never felt before, nervous.
“Gojo Satoru…” Satoru eventually replies, having taken a few more seconds to recover and identify the unknown feeling in his chest, anxiety.
“We should probably lose them first before we talk…” M/n suggests, hesitantly turning his gaze away from Satoru and toward one of the groups of curse users currently hiding out in a tall building across the street with horror on their faces because the sheer amount of power coming from the two Gods is mind breaking.
Satoru turns his gaze towards another group hiding on a rooftop few building’s down with the same expression and hums in agreement. He slowly reaches out to grab M/n’s hand, he doesn’t know why but he just does.
The moment their skin makes contact they both jump, the feeling of physically touching another is so foreign, so intrusive yet so natural.
They quickly easy into the feeling, Satoru pulling M/n along and M/n following without complaint.
This action feels so normal it’s almost easy to forget the innocent looking 9 year old boys are running away from assassins hunting Gods not boys.
They both in this moment, forget they are Gods, they forget they are cursed, they both, even if only for a fleeting moment just feel like two normal boys, running freely through the streets of Shibuya, unsure of when they actually started running but unwilling to spend any time thinking about it.
They just run, the destination isn’t a concern to either of them and after running for what felt like both a lifetime and barely a second they stop in a dark, dirty alleyway, joyful laughter still bubbling from their chests as they catch their breath.
“Phew, I’m pretty sure we lost them.” Satoru comments as he leans against the wall, relaxing a bit more because he can’t sense anyone else.
“Hmm, it would be foolish of them to follow.” M/n adds, leaning on the opposite wall, also relaxing.
A short, comfortable silence envelopes the two Gods as their gazes lock, again being completely caught off guard by the other’s eyes. Millions of questions run through both of their minds, having finally found another like them is something they didn’t think possible , they were told it’s impossible.
“How… how did you touch me? Get past my barrier which I’m positive was active?” M/n asks incredulously, he should be absolutely horrified someone can bypass his technique but he isn’t.
Satoru looks at M/n in slight shock, now being made aware the other also had a barrier active at the time of contact.
“I… I don’t know, i also had a barrier active so maybe they cancelled out?” Satoru would have never thought he’d say that with such a casual tone, someone being able to bypass the one thing that makes him untouchable, he should see M/n as a threat but he doesn’t.
“So we both have a kind of barrier technique and they cancel out somehow… that should be horrifying right? Our one impenetrable defence rendered useless…” M/n’s voice drops to a low whisper but there’s no hint of defensiveness, simply taking in the fact he can be touched, he’s not unbeatable.
“It should but honestly it just makes me excited ya know?” Satoru chuckles, his eyes sparkling even more as his usual cold expression replaced a small grin, his heart is still pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling getting stronger the longer the talks to M/n.
M/n mirrors Satoru’s expression, feeling the same pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling moving his feet forward as he takes a seat on the floor next to Satoru, his barrier preventing his clothes from getting dirty. Satoru quickly joins him, activating his own barrier to stay clean.
Although both of them are just 9 years old, being born basically ‘God’s’ they naturally possessed some basic control of their techniques, both already having trained to use their techniques for a few hours none stop before they get tired.
“It is isn’t, my entire life I’ve been told no one would be able to challenge me and I thought how boring that sounds, they said I stand on a pedestal made for Gods and that I alone stand atop it, atop everyone else and then I thought how… lonely that sounded…” M/n says, pulling his legs to his chest as he rests his head on his knees, looking at his new found friend.
Satoru adopts the same pose, his mind and soul filled with pure joy as M/n speaks because he understands, he understands so well and he never thought someone else would understand.
“Mhm, they called me blessed my entire life, a miracle. Showering me in praises and gifts alike, telling me how special I am, how I’m better than everyone else. They also call me a God, put me on a pedestal too tall for a kid… They don’t see the view from the top, they don’t see how big and empty that pedestal is…”
M/n listens to Satoru, there’s something freeing in listening to him speak, like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the weight of being called the strongest and the loneliness that comes with it, a weight no 9 year old should even have to know about.
“Well it was big and empty but perhaps we can share it?” M/n asks with a hopeful tone, somehow already knowing he doesn’t really need to ask.
“I… I would like that. Our pedestal?” Satoru has never felt this type of excitement, the idea of sharing, being equal to someone else, of not being alone is enough to make him feel like a normal kid.
“Our pedestal.” M/n repeats, the word ‘our’ rolling off his tongue so naturally.
“So what do you normally do for fun? When you’re actually allowed to do what you want ?” Satoru asks, clearly excited to do whatever friends do when they hang out, he’s excited because he doesn’t really known what others do because he’s never bothered to pay attention to anyone else, they were beneath him so there was no point in getting to know them but now, now he’s never been more interested in another.
M/n grins, suddenly standing up and looking down at Satoru with a sparkles in his already spectacular eyes. Satoru still can’t believe he likes someone else’s eyes more than his own, his attention immediately glued on M/n. They both feel that tug again as M/n extends his hand towards Satoru, the idea of physical contact regardless of their barriers still seems so absurd but so enticing.
“Wanna find out?”
Satoru takes M/n’s hand, the unfamiliar warmth of another comforting their souls , penetrating their minds. M/n pulls Satoru up and their hands stay linked as they exit the alleyway, M/n leading the way, unknowingly staring the first chapter in a very long and dangerous book.
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Tag list-
@itsgivingitalian
#malereader#dom male reader#seme male reader#top male reader#male reader#akumakosuketoughts#jjk x male reader#jujutsu kaisen#suguru geto x male reader#satoru gojo x male reader#gojo satoru#geto suguru
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hi! your jon snow headcanon is fantastic! you could make an imagine of aemond targaryen, where he and targaryen!reader (who is daughter of viserys and alicent too) take a ride on their dragons and the reader rides VERMITHOR! in honor of your name. after taking a flight, they arrive on an island or something where they spend their time, lots of fluff and kissing! thank you. 💝💝
dragon moon. | aemond targaryen
❝ pairing: aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader.
❝ summary: aemond was never a lonely child, since he was always with his sister, the princess y/n targaryen, the second daughter of the second marriage of king viserys. since then, they have always been in love, that is why, on every full moon, they get together on trips on their dragons to show their love.
❝ warning: targcest, aemond being sweetbread with his lover, wild kisses and aemond's hands going elsewhere, vermithor is in love with vhagar, just two teenagers in love, a possibly mistranslated valyrian.
❝ note: this is my first request about aemond and i'm very excited! i want you to leave me your opinions on how i write, constructive criticism is always welcomed, especially if it is respectful. i hope you like it!
THE COLD night wind entered through your window, lifting the dress from your legs, getting you to wake up. you huffed in annoyance, sitting up quickly on the bed and rushing to slam the window shut.
you stood at the window, rubbed your eyes and looked at the stars that adorned the sky of king's landing. the stars seemed to throb when you looked at them, the wind that crashed against your window seemed to go slower and more delicate in your presence. and the moon, the beautiful bright full moon, seemed to grow brighter and brighter before your eyes.
until, before your very eyes, a shadow extinguished it for a moment, accompanied by a dragon's roar, "that dragon ate the moon" you thought, but it was physically impossible. vhagar crossed your field of vision, blocking the moon with her massive body.
you knew that your brother, aemond, rode vhagar on bright moonlit nights around the king's landing with the purpose of waiting for you, he did not dare to invite you, but he expected you.
so, without wasting any more time, you took a coat warm enough to fly on the back of your dragon and you left through the secret door of your room, which, for your convenience, it led directly to the dragon pit, where vermithor, the dragon you rode, was waiting for you.
your feet crunched under the dirt of the pit, you took the burning torch that was on the wall and made your way to vermithor. it was an easy dragon to tame from the stories your father had told you, you always wanted to tame an adult dragon, and vermithor had been gentle with you.
you had approached, with only seven years but great courage, to the place where the dragon waited. and when he saw you, he didn't roar or spit fire at you, he offered you his head to caress.
ever since, you knew vermithor was as much yours as king jaehaerys's. you had a special bond and everyone knew it, they knew it from the day they saw you flying king's landing on the back of a large hermit dragon.
while you remembered how you tamed your dragon, your path was over. you left the torch on the ground and approached in search of your dragon.
"skoriot issi ao, vermithor?" you called your dragon out of the darkness. you listened to his warm breath, until, peeking out of the dark pit, his nose approached your face. scaring you, but you knew that what he was looking for was simple affection. "nyke kesīr, dona zaldrīzes" you said between laughs, caressing and kissing vermithor's nose.
vermithor closed his fiery eyes at your touch, moving closer to you, rubbing his head against yours. "jikagon de ivestragī syt nykeā kipagon rūsīr vhagar" you said bluntly, moving away from him as he followed you from behind.
when you could see the moonlight on your face, you were already mounted on vermithor, who, after your order, ran until he took the impulse and rose into the air.
the wind moved your long white hair, you closed your eyes at the sensation of the cold hitting your face and you were grateful for having brought a coat with you. vermithor was not fast like the young dragons, but for you, his flight was just perfect. its bronze wings shimmered in the light, and you found their contrast fascinating.
"issa zaldrīzes" you listened to your side, you opened your eyes to meet aemond on vhagar, who seemed more excited than usual to be next to vermithor. you smiled at him, trying to get as close to him as possible, "issa jorrāelagon" you said and you could see how his eye became small when he smiled at you.
aemond felt complete with you, you were the woman he always loved, you were everything he was missing and, although he suffered a lot from not having a dragon, he had you, and that made him love you more.
you were with him when the velaryon boys gave him a pig and you defended him from aegon, you were with him when he took vhagar and when he lost his eye.
aemond not only lost his eye for a dragon, he lost it because you. when all the children rushed to hit him, you tried to defend him, but jacaerys prevented it, throwing you away from aemond and causing you to hit your head on the ground. that was enough for aemond.
and now, while vhagar and vermithor pass each other in the skies, he doesn't mind having only one eye, because he has you.
he has your laugh when you see vermithor trying to beat vhagar, he has you saying "my love" every day, afternoon and night, he has you loving him, and for him, it is enough.
after a long race, where according to the criteria of the two, each dragon had won, you arrived at the island where you always stopped, where you had shown your love more than once.
and it's not that you couldn't in the castle, of course you did, after all, aemond always told his mother that you would be his wife. but you enjoyed the moments alone, where no one could disturb you.
you let vermithor land on the ground, and when he stabilized, you got off his back, you saw the largest dragon in the world land a little ahead of you, but still, vhagar seemed unwilling to keep his distance from vermithor. as you approached its rider, who was down to earth, you caressed your dragon's long neck until you reached its nose, where you left a kiss.
"sȳz trabajo rūs" you said, leaving one last kiss on his nose. you turned completely away from him and walked towards aemond, who was making his way towards you as well.
"she is so beautiful" he thought, seeing how behind you, vermithor raised his wings towards the sky, and the cold wind behind him only clarified that the dragons would take a walk by themselves. when you were close, he wasted no time wrapping his strong arms around your waist, pulling you so close that your chest hit his.
you laughed, but you put your arms around his neck and brushed his hair. you smiled at him, giving aemond a closer look at your smile and how your purple eyes grew small. he loved everything about you.
"you're beautiful" he said in a sigh, gently squeezing your waist, you smiled, bringing your nose close enough for them to caress "i love you, aemond" you said, placing your hands on his neck and bringing it closer to your lips.
"i love you too, y/n" he said, clasping his arms tightly behind your back and finally connecting his lips with yours. his lips were perfectly set, something that drove aemond crazy, your soft and cold lips made him more and more tense and how they moved fiercely against his made him lose control. whenever you kissed it was a battle, a battle between dragons and control.
your legs lost their stability when aemond began to pass one of his hands over your back, caressing it from top to bottom and leaving small squeezes against your waist. but god, his other hand was on your ass and he wasn't just rubbing it, he was squeezing it hard. he wanted you.
you did not know when, but you were on the ground and aemond on you. desperate to rip your clothes off when his hands rushed to take your coat off. but not even the heat that he made you feel, you could forget the cold.
"aemond" you said, peeling your lips against his and pushing your hands against his chest. his eye scans you, thinking of possible harm. "did i hurt you?" he asked and you denied with a smile "so what's wrong, my love?" his hand reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.
you breathed heavily, needing the air that kiss had taken from you. "it's too cold to do it here, my prince" he smiled and nodded, understanding your reason but not giving up "i can try to keep you warm" his hand found its place between your thighs, but even though you wanted it, you couldn't.
"we are immune to fire, not cold" you said, kissing his nose and sitting down. aemond got off of you and sat down, but he took you with him until he had you on his lap, his forehead found yours, closing his eye to your breath.
"we can continue later" you said and he nodded, took the coat he had taken from you and put it on your shoulders, wrapped his arms around you and rested your head on his neck.
"if my wife wants to continue later, that's how it will be"
masterlist | © vermithorider | do not steal, copy, publish my work without my consent, if you wish, ask and inform me about it, I am the one who should give you my permission.
#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader#aemond targaryen headcanons#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond fic#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen scenarios#vermithorider
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I Do Bad Things with You - Part 43
It's aliveeeeeee!!! 🙌 I can't even begin to describe how off my game I've been trying to write. I've had the entirety of IDBTWY written for months, but I honestly hated my writing, and editing was such a chore. I'm still not completely in love, but we need to push past so we can finally close this beast. I am slowly working through my creative drought, and hope to have some consistent content coming soon!
Also, credit to @123moiaussi for the "superseed" comment. 😉
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Catch up here.
Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘
Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW
Word Count: 6,187
Elain was sitting in the waiting room of the OBGYN office, knee bouncing nervously. This was her first-trimester check-up and she just wanted to make sure that everything was okay. Her nausea had been pretty awful over the last few weeks and she had grown excessively tired—to the point that she had to talk with Thesan about reducing her surgical procedures so she could keep a clear head.
She hated having to do that, not wanting to disappoint her boss just after she reached her attending level earlier that year. But Thesan took it in stride, helping to arrange her schedule to fit what she was comfortable doing and ensuring she had time to take proper meal breaks and rest when she needed it. He rearranged schedules and let her take on leading the resident interns full-time, allowing her to take some of the stress off by guiding them through procedures and running the ER.
He had come into her hospital room after she collapsed to check on her, and she knew she couldn’t keep it from him after what had happened in the operating room. Her boss had been ecstatic, congratulating them both.
It had been about a month since they found out they were pregnant, and she was now sitting at around seven and a half weeks along. She and Azriel decided to keep the news to themselves until she reached week twelve, just to play it safe, and Elain wished she could say they had been successful in their endeavors. But, her boss knew, and Viviane knew. The Moonbeam twins found out two weeks ago when she and Fenrys had exited the elevator of their building and Connall’s breakfast sandwich sent her hurdling for the nearest trashcan. Fen had been quick to slide her hair back, holding it above her head as she heaved. Stepping off the elevator a few minutes later, a startled and confused Azriel took in the sight of Connall and then heard her retching. He instantly was at her side, taking her hair from Fenrys, and running his hand down her back.
“What is in that sandwich,” he demanded.
Blind-sighted, Con rambled out ingredients. “Bacon, cheese, spinach, and egg.”
Elain gagged at the word egg, her stomach violently rolling from the name. “Get rid of it,” she moaned, still leaning into the disgusting garbage.
The dark-haired twin had swallowed the remains of his meal in three large bites.
It took effort to push herself off the trash bin, falling into the comforting embrace of Az’s strong arms that he wrapped around her.
He cupped the side of her face, tucking her under his chin, and let her thumb swoop over the apple of her cheek, the touch gentle and soothing. “Do you want your tea,” he murmured, lips pressing into her hair.
Unable to voice it answer, she dipped her chin.
Fenrys was already on the ground before them, pulling her coffee mug from her bag that she dropped and handing it to Azriel.
Her husband brought the mug up to her lips and allowed her to sip, the peppermint hitting her stomach and calming the raging sea. His hazel eyes glanced at her, a question simmering in them, and read the answer she didn’t even need to speak. “Elain’s pregnant,” he told the twins. “It’s still very early and we’re trying to keep it close to the chest for now, but please don’t bring eggs anywhere near her.”
Her body shuddered at that damn word again, but she managed to gain enough strength to pull herself from Azriel’s arms as she faced the Moonbeam brothers. “Sorry about that,” she said and felt her husband tense as she apologized for being sick. He’d been wildly adamant that she not apologize for the nausea, the cravings, or anything else she needed of him or anyone else. Not after having a meltdown because he went and got her something she asked for, only to start craving something else when he was out and feeling utterly ridiculous about it.
Connall seemed to snap from his shock first. “Congratulations to you both. And I apologize for the sandwich. I won’t bring anything around that has—”
“Please don’t say the word or I might hurl again,” she interrupted, fingertips touching her mouth like she’d hold it back. Fuck, even just the name of it sent her body quaking from the queasiness.
Fen chuckled. “Noted. Is there anything else that sets you off we should be made aware of?”
She shook her head no. “Nothing else that I know of yet.”
He nodded, a charming smile spreading his lips. “Let us know if anything changes. And congratulations on the pregnancy. I’m so happy for you both.”
And she could see it, the joy radiating on both of their faces. It made her heart swell with love for the two men who would likely become Uncle Fen and Uncle Con to their child.
The door opening caught her attention, pulling her from her reverie, and she met the gaze of the nurse who’d come to collect her. Elain glanced back at the elevator, waiting for her husband to show up. He was running late—something that was so very unlike him, which only added to her anxiety. She returned her attention to the nurse. “Can you give him another couple of minutes?”
It wasn’t the first time she asked to delay her appointment and knew it couldn’t continue much longer.
The nurse—Maria as her name badge read—gave her a sad smile. “We really can’t delay much longer. There are a few appointments behind you.”
“Just a couple of minutes,” Elain practically begged.
Maria hedged, shuffling from foot to foot, uncomfortable by the request, but was saved from having to deny her by the elevator door sliding open and Azriel rushing out.
He was at her side instantly, taking her arm to help her stand as if she couldn’t do it herself. Elain had to remind him on occasion that she was not yet showing and could still move about the house without his assistance. “I’m so sorry I’m late. There was an accident downtown and I got caught right in the middle of traffic. I’ll leave a half hour earlier next time.” He leaned down to brush his lips to her cheek.
His presence immediately calmed her and she leaned into his touch.
Azriel, always in tune with her feelings, didn’t miss how she settled into him as they followed the nurse back, his arm slinking around her waist so he could touch his mouth to her ear. “Are you all right?” he asked her. Nothing ever got by him.
She nodded but knew he hadn’t bought it. Still, he let it slide, caressing her arm in a soothing gesture. The nurse took all her vitals and then handed her a gown to change into before the doctor arrived. Az helped her slip it on, tying the strings together for her before assisting her onto the table.
“You’re nervous,” he commented now that they were alone.
Elain blew out a breath. “A bit.”
He swept his thumb over her cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know to be honest. Just want to make sure everything is growing healthy in there,” she said, patting her still-flat stomach. “No surprises.”
Az chuckled, kissing her temple. “I have no doubts that we have a healthy baby, love. Try not to fret.” His words seemed to calm her as she relaxed back onto the table.
A knock on the door announced the arrival of her doctor and she took a moment to introduce herself to her husband, shaking his hand.
“Okay, let’s get started. Elain, if you wouldn’t mind putting your feet into the stirrups.”
She took out the ultrasound wand, spreading lube on the tip, and Elain couldn’t help but smile at her husband’s confused face.
“All right, my dear. You should feel a little pressure,” her doctor said.
“I’m sorry, but I thought she was getting an ultrasound. What is that?” Azriel questioned.
Elain snorted lightly. “Az, it’s a transvaginal ultrasound. It goes inside, not on my belly.”
His eyes widened. “Well, the three baby books I’ve read didn’t discuss the differences in ultrasound types.”
Doctor Chen raised her brows. “You’ve read three baby books already?”
He shrugged. “I just like to be prepared.”
“You’re going to be a great father.”
The comment seemed to startle her husband. “Just because I’ve read a few books?”
Chen’s lips turned up at the corner. “Mr. Archeron-Knight, I can barely get most fathers to read one, let alone three. And before she’s even through the first trimester. Believe me when I say that I can tell who’s going to be well-adjusted to handling fatherhood.” Giving him a wink, she slipped the wand inside, making Elain’s grip on Azriel’s hand tighten slightly.
“All right, here we are,” Doctor Chen said, clicking a few buttons on the keyboard to bring up the monitor. A pitter-patter sound filled the air as she located the baby’s heartbeat.
Tears sprung into her eyes as that beautiful, perfect, innocent noise washed over her and she glanced up at her husband to see him sharing the same look as her. He leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips, the special moment between them growing with the touch of his mouth against hers.
“And here is your baby,” Chen announced, pointing to a little blip on the screen.
Elain’s dark gaze stared at that spot on the screen, feeling like her heart was about to burst with happiness. But when her eyes slid to her doctor, seeing the furrow in her brow, that joy dropped like a rock in her stomach.
Her doctor let out a small noise of contemplation, enough to catch Azriel’s attention. “What is it?” he asked, voice laced with demand and worry.
A few clicks on her keyboard had the screen adjusting, zooming out just slightly. She repositioned the wand inside of her, making her body tense. “Well, I think we should discuss multiple births. Because that right there,” she said, pointing to another blip on the screen, “is a second fetus.” She clicked a button again and two very distinct heartbeats surrounded them. Chen turned to look at them with a smile. “You’re having twins.”
If Elain thought her heart was racing before, it was absolutely pounding now, the sound rushing in her ears. Because there was just no way, no way, right? Twins? Twins! Her head swiveled to look up at her husband. “You and your fucking superseed!” she snarled.
“Elain!” Azriel chastised, looking torn between being guilty of impregnating her with two kids and amused about her foul language in front of the doctor. Mostly the latter.
Chen just laughed. “I’ve told many expecting parents they’re having twins over the years, but that was, by far, the best reaction I’ve ever seen.”
She had the decency to at least look embarrassed as she apologized to her doctor for her outburst, but she just waved her off.
After snapping a few pictures, she pulled the wand out, cleaned her up, and set the printed sonogram photos on the counter for them. “Everything looks good, Elain. You’re growing at an optimum level. I’ll go ahead and prescribe you some anti-nausea medicine that you can take in the morning and before bed for as long as you need it. Unless there are any concerns, you’re free to get dressed. The nurse at the front will schedule you for your next appointment.”
The door clicked shut softly behind her as she left and Elain felt the silence between her and Azriel like a weight on her chest.
He helped her sit up, but before she could slide off the table, he stepped in front of her, finger hooking under her chin to force her gaze to his. “Hey,” he said softly like he was afraid anything louder might startle her. “El, love, I know this is scary, but we can do this.”
“Twins, Azriel. Two kids. As in one whole being more than we even were planning for.”
His mouth quirked up at her zealous explanation. “I’m well aware of how twins work, baby.”
She glared at him for the comment.
But he ignored it, leaning down to capture her mouth in a sweet kiss. “Twins mean two beautiful children of our own. Twins mean twice the amount of love we will have. Twice the amount of joy they will be bringing into our lives. If there is anyone who can take on the challenge of having twins, it’s us. Don’t ever doubt that.”
His words settled inside of her, soothing the jagged worries of her heart into something perfectly beautiful. His confidence, his strength…it was exactly what she needed at that moment and he knew it.
Elain let out a heavy breath. “You’re changing all the diapers.”
He barked out a laugh, folding her into his arms. “I’m okay with that.”
~~~
They decided to wait until she reached the fifteen-week mark before they told their family the news. Azriel was ready to burst at week nine, but she managed to hold him off until now with just a little bit of persuasion.
A surprise to both of them was when Elain didn’t have her head in the toilet, she was horny as fuck. Azriel was running hard to keep up with her impressive sex drive. And that was saying something.
He reached out and took her hand across the center console, thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Are you nervous?” he asked, bringing the back of her palm to his lips.
She glanced at him, a soft smile pulling at her mouth. “No. I’m excited. I want to tell everyone about them.” Her hand rubbed over her swollen belly. Swollen was probably the best way to describe her appearance. Truthfully, she looked like she indulged in a very large, carb-based meal of pasta and was extremely bloated from it. Which, to be fair, with Azriel’s amazing skills in the kitchen, it was a fair assessment.
Elain opened her purse and slipped out the sonogram she had a few days before. The one that told them what they were having. Her eyes welled up with tears as her fingers stroked the black-and-white image. She was so blissfully happy. “I’m glad that they’re healthy. That was all I cared about.”
Az kissed the backside of her palm again. “Me too. And I’m happy they’ll be close to Sutton’s age so they can grow up together.”
“Do you think Feyre and Rhys will start thinking about having kids?” she asked, curious if he thought their other siblings might be feeling a touch of the baby fever.
He shrugged. “If they weren’t talking about it before, I’d say they will be now. Rhys has been wanting kids since practically in high school. He always wanted to be a father; better than his, though he wasn’t anything compared to mine.” The words hung between them for a minute before he asked her, “Do you have concerns about me becoming my father?” His voice dropped to a near whisper. Almost as if he were afraid of her answer.
Elain looked at him in shock. “Azriel, gods no. I know exactly the kind of father you’ll be, and it will not even remotely look like what you were given.”
His lips quirked up at the corner. “Yeah? And what kind of a father do you think I’ll be?”
She twisted in her seat to face him better. “You’re going to be the most devoted father because you’re already the most devoted husband. You’ll dote on those kids until they never have a wish or dream unfulfilled. You will love them fiercely—I mean, you already do and they’re still in my stomach,” she giggled lightly, rubbing her belly. “They are going to be the most spoiled children.”
At that, he laughed. “I can’t say you’re wrong. I don’t think I will be able to say ‘no’ to them at all.”
“Azriel, you can’t even tell me no,” she deadpanned.
“It’s just not in my vocabulary when it comes to you.”
Elain shook her head, eyes rolling as she twisted back in her seat to face forward again. She could see the restaurant down the street where they were meeting their siblings for lunch to tell them the news. “Well, I’m not going to take on the mean parent role just because you can’t say no.” She fiddled with her purse, sliding the image back inside. “We may need to find an alternative—” Screeching tires caught her attention and then she screamed, “Azriel! Watch out!”
The car lurched, sending her head sideways to slam against the side window. The last thing she heard was shattering glass as another car collided with them before everything went dark.
~~~~~
Azriel’s eyes blinked open, ears ringing loud enough to make him wince. His body ached across his chest and waist from the seat belt and as he shifted himself, he could tell nothing was seriously injured. Thankfully. He looked over at his wife, fear locking his heart in a deadly force. “Elain,” he murmured, voice hoarse.
Her head lay against the back of the seat, lulled to the side. She had a gash on her forehead, blood dribbling down her temple, and most of her right arm was scratched up from the shattered glass.
He tried to unbuckle his belt, but the damn thing was stuck. Pulling the knife Ruhn had gotten him from his pocket, he cut the fabric, releasing him, then reached over and did the same to Elain’s belt. A scarred hand slid to her cheek, cupping it gently, and then moved down to her throat, searching for his worst nightmare.
The relief he felt when her heartbeat pattered against his fingertips was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. “Elain,” he tried again, moving his palm back to her face. “Elain, sweetheart, open your eyes for me.” His tone took on a desperate sound as he willed her to wake.
Movement caught his eye, the sound of tires crunching on glass flooded him and he looked out the window to see the car that hit them, pulling back and fleeing. “Motherfucker,” he cursed, realizing that this was an intended accident. He had managed to jerk the wheel so Elain didn’t take the brunt of the impact, but it still slammed into the back door, shattering all the windows on her side.
A burning rage built in his gut, one that could not—would not—be stifled without blood. Whoever ordered this hit…
They were as good as dead.
Azriel refocused on his wife, fingers sweeping over her skin. He shoved that wrath building inside of him down until it was a flickering ember, something for him to let rage once he knew she was okay. “Elain, come on. Open your eyes for me.” He gently tapped her cheek, trying to get her to look at him. “Please, love. I need you to open your eyes. Elain.”
A groan passed through her lips, sending tears of relief cascading over his cheeks as her eyelids began fluttering.
“El, baby,” he cried, swooping his thumb across her smooth skin. He collected the soft sounds coming from her parted lips like precious gems, thanking every god for each one.
“Az.” Her voice cracked on his name. “What happened?” she asked, still coming into consciousness.
He shuffled closer, leaning over the center console to kiss her temple with a gentleness he reserved only for her. “We were in an accident, love. I need you to stay still until help gets here.” He felt her pulse kick up under his palm.
Elain’s breathing turned short. “Azriel…” her voice shook in fear. “Az, the babies.”
His heart wrenched, hoping and praying that everything was all right. After all that they had been through, he didn’t think he could handle the world taking something else away from her. From them. But despite his fear, he remained calm, knowing she needed to as well. “Everything is going to be okay,” he promised. “I hear the sirens, love. Help is almost here.”
The words didn’t seem to abate her as she continued to shake. “Please,” she cried, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes and dribbling down her cheeks. “Check if I’m bleeding.”
Azriel knew she needed to know—would not breathe steadily until she did. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh, sliding up until he reached her panties. Feeling her for any sort of wetness. Any stickiness that would confirm to him there was blood.
She was dry.
There weren’t words to describe how thankful he felt for that confirmation. “No blood,” he told her, pulling his hand out from underneath her dress to show her his clean fingers.
Elain released a sob, her tense body relaxing slightly.
He shushed her, kissing her temple again. “You’re okay,” he murmured, wanting to do everything in his power to reassure her. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Two firetrucks pulling up snagged his attention, as he continued to stroke her cheek soothingly.
“Sir, are you both okay?” one of the responders asked as he approached his side of the car.
He glanced at the man. “We’re conscious but she needs to be looked at.”
The guy rapped his knuckles on the top of the car. “We’ll get you out in a second—”
“Her first,” he told him in a tone that brooked no room for argument.
Another firefighter moved towards his wife’s window. “Ma’am, can you tell me your name?” she asked.
“Elain,” his wife answered.
“Are you in any pain?”
“My head hurts a bit.” Those doe eyes looked at the other woman. “I’m pregnant.”
She turned her head and yelled, “Get me the jaws!” Looking back at Elain, she reached in and wrapped a C-collar around her neck. “How far along are you?”
“Fifteen weeks.”
A nod. “All right, Elain. We’ll have you out in a jiffy and get you over to the hospital to have your baby checked out.”
Neither of them bothered to correct her on the number of babies. It wasn’t relevant, only that they needed to get her out. Once the door was opened, they began moving her onto a backboard. Azriel wrenched the driver’s side open, wanting to get to her as quickly as possible.
“Sir! You need to be checked by the paramedic,” somebody called out but he ignored them, rounding the vehicle to where Elain was being placed on a stretcher. Just before he reached her, another voice called his name—one he couldn’t ignore. He turned, finding Cassian running over to him, flashing a badge to one of the firefighters to get past him. Rhys, Feyre, and Nesta stood just beyond the scene at their cars, all watching his wife being checked out.
“What the hell happened?” Cassian demanded, eyes flitting over to where Elain was being hauled towards an ambulance.
“Hit and run. Fucker took off after T-boning us,” he snarled, tone murderous. They would not get away with this. Not with his pregnant wife in the car with him. Az glanced up and saw the street cameras, angled just right to have caught the entire accident. “Cash, get me the film from that camera,” he indicated with a nod of his head before swiveling on his feet and prowling toward his wife.
Cassian kept stride with him, took in the responders on the scene, and lowered his voice to not be overheard. “Az, the police will investigate. Just let them do their job.”
Azriel whirled on his brother. “You either get me that tape, Cassian, or I’ll get it my way. Either option, I will find out who did this to her.” There was no arguing when he stepped into this role. This wasn’t a brother asking for a favor. This was the head of the Velaris Mob Boss demanding it.
His voice turned deadly, taking on the dangerous threat he used to get what he wanted.
When it looked like his brother was about to argue, the female firefighter shouted, “Victim is fifteen weeks pregnant. She needs to be checked out by a doctor.”
Elain called Az’s name and he turned, striding towards her but not before he caught how Cassian’s face paled. Or the shocked looks from their siblings. Well, that’s one way to find out, he thought to himself as he reached his wife’s side and took her hand.
She clutched his fingers, her face still scrunched with worry. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, placing a kiss on her forehead before they loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Az climbed in after, sitting down on the bench and gripping her hand once more. He glanced back out the door and found Cassian standing there.
“I’ll get you that tape,” he said quietly; fierce determination blazed in his hazel eyes to help his brother wreak havoc over the person who went after his pregnant wife. Only Cassian could understand the fear of something like this, having already gone through a pregnancy with Nesta. Without another word, he shut the doors to the ambulance.
Elain looked up at him, his name falling from her lips. He brushed a thumb over her forehead. “Everything is going to be fine, love. Just try to relax.” It was empty words, they knew that. Knew neither of them would settle until they heard both of those heartbeats on a monitor.
He just hoped he was holding it together enough for her until they could confirm she was still pregnant.
And may God have mercy on the fucker who caused this, if she wasn’t.
~~~
They ushered Elain into a private room, hooking her up to a fetal monitor. The doctor moved quickly, shoving her dress up to reveal her bare stomach while a nurse covered her hips with a blanket.
She flinched slightly when the cold gel was applied to her skin and Azriel brought her fingers to his lips, kissing her across the backside of her knuckles.
It was like the world held its breath as they searched for those two heartbeats.
“Baby number one looks good,” the doctor said, clicking a button and sending the hummingbird’s wing pattern of a heartbeat into the room.
Elain squeezed his hand, a soft sound passing between her lips in relief.
The wand moved on her belly, searching for their other little one. “And, there they are. Hiding behind their sibling.”
When the second heartbeat reached their ears, Elain twisted, sobbing into Az’s chest with utter joy. He wasn’t very far behind her, letting tears of relief slip from his eyes as he cradled her against his torso. His hand rubbed her shoulder, lips pressing to the crown of her head, offering comfort to her through his presence and touch.
The doctor cleaned her off, smiling at the two of them. “Everything looks good on the monitor,” she started after giving them a moment. “We’ll keep you here for another hour or so just to be safe before we discharge you. If you have any bleeding in the next few days, come in right away.”
Elain seemed unable to answer, so he did it for her. “We will, thank you, doctor.”
“There also appears to be a group of people waiting for you guys in the lobby. Would you like me to send them in or give them a message?”
He crouched, putting himself at her eye level, wanting Elain to make the decision. Az cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away the tears under her eyes. “Love, do you want to see the family now?” he asked, voice low.
She sniffed, eyes still flooded with silver. The subtle shake of her head told him she wasn’t quite ready for the company yet.
Azriel rose, perching himself on the edge of her bed, and tucked her back into his chest. “Can you tell them that we’re okay, and I’ll come to get them when we’re ready for visitors?”
“Of course. Page the nurse if you need anything.” Without another word, she slipped from the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Elain fisted his shirt, taking in his cedar and mist scent deep into her lungs. He gave her whatever time she needed, letting her get herself together. “I was so scared,” she whispered, burying her face further into his embrace.
Azriel was grateful that she seemed to find comfort in him, in his touch, his scent. He held her tighter against him, murmuring, “Me too.”
She held onto him for a few more precious moments before pulling back to look up at his face. “I didn’t see the other car when they pulled me out.” Her brows furrowed as she tried to put the pieces together. “Were we in a hit and run?”
“Yes,” he said, brushing his thumb back and forth over her cheek.
Her eyes flicked between his. “Do you think we were targeted?”
He wouldn’t lie to her—refused to, but also didn’t want her to be even more frightened than she already was. “I do.” Az saw that kid look directly at him, his eyes widening in understanding that he was, in fact, not dead, before taking off from the scene. He didn’t recognize him, but if he had to place a bet, he’d say it was one of Frankie’s lower levels who crossed to Elias’s side.
Az didn’t think either of his brothers would call a hit like that. Middle of the day, busy street. It wasn’t their style. But Elias was careless, greedy, and a poor decision-maker. He sighed, brushing his lips to her forehead. “The kid looked me dead in the eye before leaving. He was scared that I was still alive.”
“How old do you think he was?” Elain asked.
“I’d say we have at least a decade on him. Seventeen, maybe eighteen.”
“So, just a kid then.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You say that like it’s excusable.”
She shook her head. “I’m not excusing what he did, but we both know how young kids are trapped into joining those gangs. Through manipulation and fear. There’s a reason you won’t allow anyone that young to be brought in, Az, and you know it. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb to question if it was his idea or he was put up to it.”
His lips quirked up as she spoke like a true Mob queen. “If you had to guess who would put him up to it—”
“Elias, no doubt. We both know he’s been itching to strike at us since he showed up at the hospital. And you said he was trying to recruit kids from Frankie. Perhaps he offered this kid a way out from under Illyrian rule.”
“There is only one way out from Frankie’s Mob,” he told her, letting the words hang heavily between them.
Elain let out a deep breath. “I know. Either way, he’s dead. Elias is likely to kill him for failing, or Frankie and Nick will for attempting to leave.”
It floored him to just how similar her train of thought was to his. She observed and listened and picked up on every single thread laid down. Understood all of the connections and bloodshed as if she’d been a part of it her whole life. He couldn’t say that the revelation was thrilling, but it also made his chest ache. Az never wanted her to be so in tune with his world. Didn’t want her to have to think about the worst-case scenarios and determine ways around them. But here she was, doing just that and not shying away from it.
To think he couldn’t love her any more than he already did.
“I have to agree with your assessment. Elias will not get away with this; with what he’s done to you.”
She didn’t balk at the threat in his tone, simply took his hand in hers and squeezed. “Despite what he’s done, is going after him the best idea? Things could escalate.”
“We can’t let this go without repercussions, love. Others will hear about this and wait to see how I respond. If it’s not a show of force, they’ll think I’ve gone lax and more will come. I need to be aggressive with my actions.”
It looked like she wanted to argue some more, but decided against it, bringing his hand up to her mouth to kiss his scars. “Do you want to go get the others now? I’m ready to see them.”
He smiled down at her, cupping her cheek one more time. “I’ll be right back.” Az pressed his lips to her forehead before he slipped from the room, knowing that that conversation was far from over. But he’d let it go for now. She had been through enough today without him pushing her on it. But this was one thing he would not, could not budge on. Not if he didn’t want to keep her safe. Especially now with their growing family.
Azriel wasn’t even to the edge of the lobby when Nesta shot out of her chair.
“Is she all right?” his sister asked, face drawn with worry.
His eyes glanced to Cassian behind her, cradling a sleeping Sutton in his large arm, Feyre and Rhys next to him. “She’s fine,” he told them, sensing their relief. “They want to keep her here another hour or so, just to be safe, but you guys are welcome to come back with me if you’d like.”
“Does she want company?” Feyre asked, edging to her eldest sister’s side. “We don’t want to intrude—”
“She asked for you all. No intrusion,” Az interrupted her.
Cassian swallowed, his eyes looking down at the small thing in the crook of his elbow. “You know we all heard the firefighter…is the baby okay?”
He had a feeling one of them would ask, but he wanted to make sure Elain was present for it. So, he said instead, “Everyone is fine. We can talk more in her room.” Turning on his heel, he headed back toward Elain’s private room, knowing they’d follow him closely.
Opening the door, he caught Elain looking intently out the window, seemingly oblivious to the world around her. “Love,” he called out to her, making her snap out of her reverie and turn to face him. “Our siblings are here.”
Her smile lit up his entire chest, despite the current circumstances. Gods, she was radiant when she smiled at him like that.
He held the door open, letting their family shuffle in. Nesta and Feyre made a beeline right to either side of her, gripping her in a firm hug.
“Are you all right?” Nesta asked again, cupping her cheeks in her palms.
Elain laughed slightly. “Yes, I’m fine.” Her eyes landed on his at the foot of her bed and he nodded at her, answering her silent question. One small hand swept down over the slight swell of her belly. “We’re all fine,” she added, a bit more shyly.
“I can’t believe you two are pregnant already,” Rhys stated, resting a palm on her lower leg.
Az laughed. “Strong swimmers,” he boasted.
“Asshole,” Cassian muttered. It wasn’t a secret that he and Nesta had struggled a bit to get pregnant. His wife was, apparently, just incredibly fertile.
Elain just shook her head, eyes rolling at the exchange.
“How far along are you?” Feyre asked, interrupting what she knew was going to be another ridiculous argument.
“Fifteen weeks. Or just over,” she answered.
Nesta blinked in surprise. “Do you know what you’re having?”
Her lips quirked up in the corner as she eyed him. “A boy.”
Their family erupted into congratulatory shouts for them both, grabbing them into hugs. Az waited until they quieted down before announcing, “And a girl.”
All four heads swiveled to him.
Silence descended upon their family for a few tense moments before Rhys finally demanded, “Explain!”
“We’re having a boy and a girl.”
He could see the lightbulbs going off above their heads. It was rather humorous to watch them connect the dots.
“You’re having twins?” Cassian breathed, eyes wide as saucers.
Elain chuckled at their expense. “Yes, my husband infested me with his superseed for two babies.”
Azriel barked out a laugh. “You’re one to talk miss fertile as fuck.”
Their family erupted into a fit of hysterics at the exchange and that brought the largest smile to his face. Elain caught his grin, offering him one of her own. Fuck, he loved her so damn much and he couldn’t wait to have his two little ones welcomed into such a loving family.
He still had to handle Elias, still needed to confirm who else was involved in the hit on them, but he pushed that aside and focused on this moment with his pregnant wife and their siblings. Az would get his revenge…just not today.
~~~~~
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strangers.
✩‧₊˚☾
masquerade chapter one.
jean kirstein x fem!reader, regency a.u.
chapter summary ; how it all began.
chapter warning ; familial issues/abandonment, running away.
a/n ; im trying out a different writing style to match the theme of this au!! :') I don't think it's going that well, so constructive criticisms are always welcome. also lmk if I should continue in this style or just go back to my normal one!! :)
taglist ; @mrsnobodynobody @jeanscremebrulee @holding-infinity-and-a-book @happxme
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✩‧₊˚☾
the ackermans, despite their precedence, were kind to you. as much as they could find it in themselves to be.
their name was attached to authority and harshness; something you hadn't been a stranger to since birth, despite not being one of them yourself - a reality nobody let you forget. but then again, you wouldn't want to forget.
the late january nights were cooling on your cheeks, even as you were stationary, sat on a bench that was illuminated solely by one lantern. it would've been dangerous if you weren't cloaked, hiding your figure from the eyes of the rare strangers that crossed your view from time to time, no doubt for a smoke break, trying to escape their realities.
you didn't blame them. you were doing the same thing as well, sketching out the picture in front of you - a sleeping ginger cat. peacefully, it's belly heaved upwards, then down as it dreamt. your pencil glided across the page, trying to capture its fur. you were, by no means, exceptional. not as great as the artists you would see when you'd sneak out to go to galleries with artists that were recognized, unlike your own pieces. marked off as "anonyomous", without a home but with a creator that painted like it did have one. a home, a place to go back to.
you rub the eraser dust away with your fingers, sinking into your seat, looking back up at your subject who was peacefully unaware of your observation.
"you're here again." a voice remarks.
you know this voice. you look to your right, where it's coming from. his own figure was hiding with a thick long coat, buttoned up till the top. a brown hat covered the top of his head, furling up and away from his forehead. the apples of his cheeks were tinted pink with the cold and his ash-brown hair peeked out from under his hat. his eyes were a halo of gold with the light of the lamp above you. you smile up at him.
"interesting subject tonight." you say, looking back at the cat. he turns to look at it too, humming. he takes a seat right beside you, keeping his own sketchbook in his lap, methodically, neatly. he looks into your sketchbook.
"you've made progress without me," he says. complains, really. it's endearing and you find yourself smiling.
"it's just practice, don't worry."
he scoffs. "I'm not worried." he says, lying straight through his teeth, flipping his sketchbook open to an untouched page.
his first mark is just like him - precise and calculated. you've noticed it, through the weeks you've known him, that his first line always remains. he may go back and erase other strokes, adjust some others, but the first one remained the same, unchanging. he hesitates before drawing it, however, twisting his pencil between the fingers of his left hand before his decision, like he's marking off a territory.
it's routine. you pretend to be asleep in clothes that you're still not quite used to, watch as Mikasa lights a candle, helping Eren up from her balcony windows, making sure that she is distracted with whispered, secret conversations with the man before sneaking out, heading to have your own whispered and secret life at night. most nights it's this - meeting this stranger with honeyed eyes and cleched jaw. he spoke only when prompted to, but it was worthwhile. if you were brave enough, you'd ask for his name. but you werent, and it seemed neither was he. he must be too recognizable in this place, too hard to ignore.
he's too hard to ignore right now as well, when you sit in silence and the only sounds you hear are the gentle scrapings of hard and soft led - the stranger liked more feathery charcoal - against rough parchment paper. your shoulders keep brushing with every stroke, as they did every time. it sends warmth through your body against the cold night, but you don't mention it in words. you're not sure you can, even if you were allowed to, you couldn't dare put it into words and let it be known and tangible.
the stranger sighs. "how did you do it?" he asks. his voice fogs up the air around his mouth.
you look at him. maybe the mystery around his being is why you feel the way you do around him. maybe if you know him, you'd feel less. but how much power can a name even posses? you know everything he'd allow you to, and for now it was enough. you knew that his favourite scent was that of the lavender oil that he'd dot on his collarbone on special occasions only because his best friend had told him to. you know that he did not care much for sweets, except those that his mother rarely made for him and his company, you knew that he had a scar on his ankle after having it be broken running away from a horse as a child, too scared to brave the act of riding one. everything he'd tell you, you'd hang on to like it was your purpose.
he's your friend. the first one you had made that you did not owe anything to.
"do what?" you ask him, tilting your head to one side. his eyes trail down to your unfinished sketch.
"make it feel alive." he asks, again, as his left hand sets his lead down on his lap in favour of feeling your page. you hum in thought as he touches your drawing's fur.
"do not think over it too much. layer, keep adding until it feels right." you say. you don't have much advice to give after doing art for so long. it feels like a muscle memory and not like the power that people would try to convince you it is. it doesn't feel like something you wield to create but something that you had known since you were born.
maybe you were born with it.
he shifts in his seat and his left hand rests on the back of the bench, behind your arms. not touching you, but enough for you to know that he is persistently there, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his obvious attempt at being a flirt - another thing you had noticed. "it never works the way you make it work."
"blind flattery will not get you far," you tell him, looking at him in his eyes, and he stares back, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"i do not need to go far."
"clearly," you mutter.
he scoffs, falsely offended.
the night continues and so does the light banter and shared smiles.
he feels light. despite your surroundings being dark and clouded, despite there being several thousand things you should have been worrying about, he makes you feel like you are floating in the gently blowing wind.
you were a thing meant to be kept this gently. you were satisfied, greatly so, to be in his presence while doing the one thing you had truly enjoyed. a space that could not be destroyed, understanding without any transaction being made.
if only you could spend more time with him, like this, without his name, without your name, only the small differences that set you aside from everyone else. the two of you existed as mere symbols of each other, mere faces that knew and saw each other despite your last names, the people you were supposed to stand for.
--
you might've regretted spending all these late nights with the nameless stranger, considering the ungodly hour at which you had to wake up. just before the sun rises, you were required to do the same tasks that concerned your scarce colleagues. helping dry the clothes, helping make sure that everything was set for when Mikasa would eventually wake up to her own morning regrets, setting the soaps for her bath and ironing her dresses, laying out the jewellery she was to wear.
it suited her. you smoothed over her deep wine coloured dress, ridding it of any of its wrinkles, admiring how the colour would bring out her eyes that looked at you kindly under the guise of being indifferent. you'd been glad the day she found you - you were a teen, looking desperately for somewhere to belong to and you found her. crashed into her, really, because she was running away too. you still hadn't asked her what she'd been running away from, but one thing was for certain - taking a single look at her that day told you everything you needed to know - she was just like you. in the sense that she had the same, undeterred resolve of removing herself, finding escape in whatever obscurity she could find it in.
you had crashed into her, dropping the measly amount of bread in your hands on the ground on impact. it became dirtied with the heavy raindrops and mud almost immediately, and you would've berated her. you would've yelled and let out all your pent-up anger if it wasn't for the clothes she was wearing. they were wet but you could tell they were made from heavy material - a material that you had seen only important people wear. even if she tried covering the bottom half of her face with a washed-out red scarf, she looked like how she was supposed to look; the look you had decided to grow out of after running away. like a child.
scared and shivering, you led her to your meagre shelter with an arm around her shoulder, lighting up a small fire to keep her warm for the time being. you spent three days with her there. she left on the fourth day, and even though she hadn't told you about her decision to leave, you knew it would be inevitable.
what you didn't know was that she'd lead her cousin there, too. in your shelter - into the basement of an abandoned shop - the floors of which were scattered with paintbrushes and charcoals and empty tubes of paint. her family took you in and provided you of a newer, better shelter.
but you could not call it a home. it was not home. you never had one, you were sure of it.
the only drawback of this temporary... settlement, you should call it, was that you'd have to work for them. yes, the Ackermans weren't as harsh and cold as their reputation claimed, but that did not mean they were the kindest. surely a stranger could not be of the same rank as their own daughter, a fact you very well understood.
and Mikasa's spirit was as you had expected them to be after you had found her that day. she was stubborn over her softness, and made it abundantly clear that she did not wish for anyone else but you to be her handmaiden.
she is your best friend. but she is also your employer, a line you have to remember to tread lightly and carefully every day.
her drowsy voice calls you into her room from the bathing chambers.
wiping your hands on the skirt of your dress, you make your familiar way to her large room. you greet her squinting eyes with a smile, opening up the curtains to let the morning light in. the sun had made its way up into the sky as you finished your chores with its rays boring into the morning as it did every winter day. Mikasa didn't seem to appreciate it as much as you did, however, her hair unruly and unkept after tossing and turning all night.
"you'll feel less tired once you warm up a bit. i've already ran a bath for you," you tell her, and like clockwork, she lets her feet down on the ground from the bed, rubbing her wrist against her eye. she nods while doing it, letting you know that you are heard.
you strike a smile at her tired state, one that you relate to a little too well. you make your way towards her.
"here," you say, plucking up the hot cup of tea into your hands from her bedside. "this'll help you wake up. it's something new. Sir Arlert brought it for you. something about Doctor Yeager's remedy?" you say, knowing exactly what words to speak to bring her out of her dreamy state.
"Yeager?" she asks, her voice raspy. she takes the cup from your hand.
you know too well about her relations with the two boys. even if his post dubbed him to be "Sir", Armin Arlert was a man who could convince even the stoniest Ackerman to let Mikasa talk to him. even after the Yeager family was left desolate, the two boys never lost their nature, especially with Mikasa herself.
you hum at her question. "i think he called it...coffee? something along those lines. if it's bitter, I'll bring the sugar."
she takes a tentative sip and nods. "it's alright." she says. "thank you." there's a slight grimace on her face and you know what it says even if she doesn't say it; it's bitter, but it's tolerable.
Levi Ackerman wasn't as prude as people made him out to be. yes, he did have the look of a scoundrel who might've had daggers strapped into the inside of his coat, but you had wormed your way into his heart. you knew that for a fact because you had spilled milk on his cotton shirt and had, somehow, gotten away with it. all he did was mumble something under his breath, shaking his head before dabbing it away with a rag.
if it were anyone else, he would've led them to unemployment, but he didn't do so with you. he could have, it was within his right, but he didn't.
of course, you did make up for it. you went out into the darker parts of the town and purchased a small pouch of tea that helped with sleeplessness to help him ease his dark circles out. you knew of his issues with sleep, how he stayed awake into the wee hours of the night, roaming around like a ghost in his robes, reading a book that no-one knew the name of. you didn't know about what nightmares plagued him, but the tea you gave him seemed to help with that. instead of hearing his footsteps creaking on the wooden floors, you heard his sound snoring when you passed his room in the morning.
maybe it was because it was him that found you in that dingy basement along with Mikasa, helped coax you out of there, crouched infront of you and told you that you'd have a house to live in and a bed to sleep on if you follow him and Mikasa. maybe it was because he saw you grow up just like he saw his cousin grow up, from where you came to where you've reached. from wearing clothes that barely fit you, paint marks all over your face from pigment that wasn't safe for skin as sensitive as yours, to here. to clothes that you kept clean and ironed, pigments that you didnt let come near your face to prevent the rashes that you'd eventually get due to them.
you prepared his morning tea just the way he liked it, which was to say, only a dash of milk and no sugar. he wanted to taste as much tea as he could without diluting it, placing the cup on the tray along with all the other assortments.
you snuck a taste of the batter that the cook - Mr Berner - had prepared in advance as he frets over the cook of the eggs. Lord Ackerman, mikasa's stern father, deeply disliked uncooked yolks whereas Lady Ackerman disliked yolks that were solid throughout. thankfully, Kenny Ackerman bad gone hunting, and with any luck, would not be back until later in the evening. his hunting expeditions always extended to something else entirely, sometimes he'd return a little intoxicated. again, thankfully, he somehow managed not to raise any suspicions from anyone else.
"can you help with the juice if you can spare some time? Mrs Ackerman seems to be preferring it now-a-days." Mr Berner asks, turning his head to glance at you. you hum in agreement, helping the poor man by getting started on the orange juice. he has too much to do every day, with the kitchen being short staffed and new hires being dismissed due to silly mistakes that anyone in their shoes would make in their first week. Lord Ackerman had to be the cause of the hushed rumors that surrounded his family because of his last minute decisions made due to mild rage. if it weren't for his only child being on your side, you also would have met the same fate as the maid that left after not being able to remove the clothes from the rack fast enough before a thunderstorm.
in some ways, he reminded you of your own grandfather.
you finished up squeezing the juice our of the fruit as fast as you could before hurrying over to mikasa's bath, getting ready for her to get out.
luckily, she seemed more awake now as she accepted the towel being wrapped around her figure, heading to the closet.
"is there any more of that coffee?" she asks as you brush her hair.
"yes. it's kept aside just for you. was your talk with Mr. Yeager to your satisfaction last night?" you ask her, smiling at her through the mirror as she evades your eyes.
"it was. er- Mister Yeager is... nice." she says, small smile gracing her face that anyone else would've missed but you latch on to quickly.
"you might want to sleep earlier for a little while. so as to avoid suspicion," you say as she hums, playing with a string of her silky black hair. "i just miss him sometimes. after living next door to him for so long...." she reminisces.
"you got used to him?" you ask. in truth, you did not know much about the Yeager boy. all you knew was creditted to what you had gathered from over-hearing. something about his father running away, something about the legitimacy of his birth or lack thereof, something else about his brother forcing him and his mother to move to a more rural part of Paradis. what ever it may be, his life and his secrets and his stories, you hope he could find it in himself to be content. even if everything you heard was false, you knew all too well how a teen felt after being removed from their home with or against their will.
all you knew was that he made Mikasa happy. it didn't matter much to you about where he came from or how much wealth he possessed, all that mattered was that after the day was done, Mikasa could sleep with a smile on her face because of him.
Mikasa nods as an answer.
"his mother was kind to us. she'd make our favourite meals when we were tired after playing." she says, her smile more visible now. you smile back as you apply pigment to her cheeks, blending it out to be more natural, holding her cheeks in your hands after you were done. "beautiful."
she smiles and averts her eyes. "all thanks to you," she says, whispering.
you shake your head. "Lord Ackerman wants to see you." you tell her, remembering what he had asked. "seemed to be important." you say.
she sighs, getting up from her seat at the vanity. "sometimes I wish we could...live in a cottage." she says, smoothing out her dress with her hands, dusting off any stray hair or pigment. Lord Ackerman much preferred it when his family was well presented, even in the confines of their own home.
you smiled wider, indulging in her thoughts. this wasn't something new.
when you were only just getting accomadated to your living situation as a mere fifeteen year old, she'd find you, restless and preparing hot milk to rest better, trying to do the same for herself. you'd look at her with understanding, carrying two cups of milk and some cut up fruit up to her room, hiding under her covers, talking about an ideal life and why you'd like to lead it.
"I could steal some books for you from Smith's library," you tell her, and she breathes out a laugh. "and I'd steal you some good paints from Armin's parents." she says. a compelling case.
"and we'd have a cat. with a ginger coat."
"you know we can't possibly handle it,"
"two cats."
she laughs, a proper giggle this time, her hand coming up to cover her mouth with a fist. "alright. two cats."
"we'd grow catnip in our backyard."
"...I do not think that would work. as long as I get to read, I'll be alright."
Mikasa asked you to stay near the doorway of her father's study. you obliged, knowing that these 'talks' Lord Ackerman requested were more of a lecturing than anything. he prides himself in not being aggressive, but the passiveness of his voice and the looks he shoots his family over dinner for stepping out of an invisible, imaginary line prove otherwise. regardless, he doesn't raise his voice in spite of his anger or lack of it, and his presence in the house made you stand with your back pin-straight and chin bowed down. not because of the respect he so clearly demanded, but because of fear.
even now, standing right outside of his dark wooden door, his voice was nothing but a low hum, interrupted by mikasa's higher pitched voice. you could not eavesdrop even if you wanted to with the thick doors and his voice barely penetrating through them. sometimes you think that this house was built keeping in mind of this fact only - that the Ackerman family needed to keep any and all of their secrets locked up behind doors.
you played with the hem of the waistband on your skirt, digging it under your thumbnail and removing it before doing it again - a trait you had habituated since childhood. you used to do it with a silver necklace chained across the base of your neck, but now that necklace sat in a closed closet along with your other, more valuable belongings.
Mikasa steps out, opening the doors with ease, sighing after they're finally closed. you don't crowd her immediately; you know better than that. you know she needs space, so you keep your distance at a safe arm's length. but today was not like the other days this occured. no, because today, you felt it. the tension in the air, more so than usual, the back of your neck covered in light swear not due to working in the kitchen but due to being here, in this wide, cold corridor that held no windows, the air stiff.
and because, instead of asking for space, Mikasa opens her mouth to speak, as if it's a death sentence. you're sure it is.
"he has decided to marry me off."
#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein#jean kirschstein x reader#aot#jean kirstein x you#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan#jean kirschtein#mikasa ackerman#eren yeager#armin arlert#levi ackerman
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Amongst the Stars - Tenth Doctor
Doctor Who - Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader
Word Count - 1.5k
Warnings - Smut (obviously), Minor Drinking
A/N:
Hi everyone! This is my first time ever writing smut so please bare with me, I'm trying something new for Kinktober. I've also only recently gotten into Doctor Who and have never written for this fandom before so apologies for any inconsistencies with characterization or anything (not that there's much of that happening here). Anyways, notes, feedback, and constructive criticism are welcomed and would be greatly appreciated!
Also, the readers gender/sex is never explicitly specified but I wrote them with a female in mind so take that as you will. And also, the Doctor was written as the tenth one in mind, but there's also nothing really specifically acknowledging that so it could be read as any of the Doctors except for maybe the 13 since he does have male anatomy.
It had been a rather lazy day in the TARDIS, for once. She had needed a little bit of refueling and thankfully the doctor had found a barren star system that was harnessing just enough energy to get the job done. He had even been extra careful to make sure that there weren't any other living beings, apart from the two of you, for lightyears, feeling the two of you deserved to have some down time for just yourselves. From the comfort of the TARDIS, he had pointed out all the stars and planets you could see and told you about each of them: their names, their moons, the species that lived there, and what they were like. Later on, he had even gone as far as to surprise you with a bottle of wine he had picked up during your last visit to Earth.
It hadn’t taken long for the talking to turn into one of your usual lazy, comforting make outs. The wine had begun to make everything feel lighter and airier as it usually did, and even though you and the Doctor weren’t particularly shy about your mutual feelings, you were still trying to work out just exactly what those feelings may mean for your relationship, making moments like these few and far between. At some point, the two of you had worked your way onto the small couch that had been placed in the common room of the TARDIS, hardly big enough for the both of you. He gently laid you on your back, never once breaking the kiss as he climbed on top of you. Laying down now, it was beginning to teeter on the edge of something more passionate. Something more rough, even. Uncharted territory between the two of you. Breaking away from the kiss for only a moment to catch a glimpse of your face, unsure of his next move, he went back in, this time, slipping his tongue slightly out, asking for permission. Slowly, you began to open your mouth, just wide enough to grant him the entrance he was asking for.
It was slow again at first, gentle as he gave both you and himself time to adjust to the new found intimacy of the situation, giving you a chance to stop him from going any further if you so chose to, only you didn’t. Quicker than he had before, he deepened the intensity of the kiss, forcing himself into your mouth. With that, his hands began to roam. Having just been cupping your face, they began to drop down your body, moving past your neck before leaving your body completely only to find themselves pressed against your lower back, pushing your torso up into his own body. As the heat in your bodies grew, and the wine continued to course through your blood, you couldn’t help but fight the urge to start slowly rolling your hips upward, connecting with his own. He responded with nothing more than a few soft groans, so quiet they were nearly whispers. At the sudden change of pace, his lips finally broke from yours as he started moving down your body, placing kisses down your jawline and neck, agonizingly slow, taking time to lick and suck on your skin with each one before moving on to the next spot. Eventually, he found a spot at the base of your neck, in the crevice between where it met your clavicle. He lingered there, sucking a bruise on your skin as you continued to grind up against him.
Feeling satisfied with the small mark beginning to come to life at the bottom of your neck, he effortlessly, and swiftly lifted you up off the couch. He settled himself in, sitting down where you had just laid before setting you down on his lap, giving you a moment to adjust yourself, satisfied as you finally settled, straddling him now. His mouth met yours once more, this time leaving no time to work back up to the heavy pace as he had before. His hands rested on your hips, which now sat still and obedient, waiting for him to determine whether or not the night would go any further than it already had. After a moment, his hands began to run down to your thighs, gently caressing them, before making sure you were comfortable and tightening his grip on you once more. You could feel only hints of his erection through his pants, sitting too far back to feel it in its full size, and you began to throb as the intimacy of the moment truly sank in for the first time.
His hands made their way back up towards your hips, only this time, he brought them in between your two bodies, resting them right above the button of your jeans.
“May I?” he asked gently. You nodded, signaling your approval, dazed look in your eyes as you tried to comprehend what was about to happen. His hands made work of the button and zipper, undoing them in just a few seconds.
“Can you stand up for me, darling?” he questioned, sounding a bit more confident than he had when he asked the previous query. You wordlessly lifted yourself off of his lap, standing up in front of him, unsure of what to do with yourself. He cautiously sat up, reaching out to grab the waist of your jeans before slowly pulling them down, giving you a chance to step out of them. Once more he reached out to you, grabbing your hands this time, and guiding you towards him as he sat further back into the couch, spreading his legs even wider. You allowed him to guide you, placing his left leg between both of yours, realizing what he was asking. You sank back onto him, this time, only the thin layers of your pants and his trousers separating you. When you had made yourself comfortable once more, he placed his hands back on your hips.
“Is this okay?” he breathily asked, this time looking directly into your eyes, holding your attention for a moment as he studied your expression. You nodded your confirmation once more, not trusting your own voice to be able to carry the words out in the moment.
His grip tightened, and he slowly began guiding you, helping you rock back and forth against him, trying to get familiar with the new sensation before working your ways towards finding a steady rhythm that worked for you. Gently, you pulled yourself forwards and back, slightly up and down, hands gripping onto his shoulders for support. Your head hung low, eyes shut, half because you weren’t quite sure you’d know where to look if they were open and half out of the pleasure beginning to rise in your lower abdomen. When you were fully acclimated to the new motion, you began to find a rhythm, still slow but a bit more rough and sure. Your breathing picked up as the Doctor, who had felt the change of rhythm, shifted the pace of his hands on your hips to match the one you had set for yourself. He looked down at you through his hooded eyelids, trying to get a look at your face, but not quite seeing as much of it as he would have liked, your head still hanging low. Eyes opened slightly now, you could see his dick slightly twitching in his trousers every now and then, the sight of it deeping your arousal and need.
You quickened your pace once more, this time, allowing soft moans to start escaping your lips, the sound of it sending the doctor into a frenzy of his own. His grip was now relentless as he took control over you, forcing you into a tempo of his own volition, rocking you back and forth, pushing you down onto his thigh. The newly added pressure only making your pleasure grow, earned him even louder moans, as you worked a wet spot through your pants and onto his trousers.
Head thrown back in pleasure, and your moans getting louder you announced your coming orgasm, only making him speed up the pace, knowing he would follow soon after just from the pleasure of watching you get off on his lap. As the speed increased, so did your pleasure, and in moments, your orgasm was crashing through you as he continued to roll your hips and force you down onto his leg, letting you ride out the orgasm as he began to allow his own to set in. Relentlessly, he forced your hips into a fast and steady pace until he was sure you were coming back down from the wave of pleasure.
Fucked out and out of breath, you allowed yourself to fall forward, head resting on his shoulder and borrowed into the crook of his neck. His hands let go of your hips, rubbing small and gentle circles into them, massaging out the tenderness his grip would be leaving behind before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you off of one leg and settling you onto both, in a more comfortable position, drawing you closer to him.
#—︎ my posts ☕️#Doctor Who#fanfic#Tenth Doctor#doctor x reader#Tenth Doctor x Reader#thigh riding#smut#nsft#writing#ao3 fanfic
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What Lovers Do (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)
Warnings: non con, implied past non con, smut, no mention of readers genitalia, implied bondage, penetration, use of lubricant, slight spoilers for future chapters but if you don't know then you can't tell
A/N: I started this at 4 AM this morning, apologies if the writing is a bit stiff I kinda wanted to get something quick out.
As always, constructive criticism is welcome and I hope you enjoy.
Status: Not Edited
"Then...can you tell me if I'm performing or being genuine right now?" The question was thrown at you with a chuckle and a certain glint in his eye, like he was a gambler about to win a bet. That should have been your first warning to say no, or better yet say nothing at all.
"I think..." It was less of a thought and more of a hope at the time. "You're being genuine." You spoke softly, as though you might shatter something if you spoke too loud despite your silly costume and unique setting. The maze you had cleared together now behind you, faux flower petals gently danced in the air above you. Despite the mechanoids of Constellia lacking a complete understanding of human aesthetics and choices, their imitation of them never failed to impress you.
In return, Roland gave a hearty laugh as he closed the distance between you two. "Is that so, Babylonian Commandant?" He reached his hand up and before you could stop him, you were stripped of your Sharksphere-esc head, leaving your face in his full view.
He held your chin gently, yet firm enough to hold you in place as he leaned in close, "Since I'm being genuine, why don't we commit ourselves to one another and do something only lovers do?" He whispered with a small smirk that barely contained his excitement.
While you had momentarily forgotten the differences between constructs and humans, but Roland was quick to remind you as he pulled you towards him, his other hand going straight to your crotch causing you to gasp and swat his hand away, which he ignored in favor of teasing you with his fingers.
"Roland, wha-"
"Shhhh...." He hushed you gently, as if he was consoling an upset child. "It's alright, just follow my lead and everything will be easier." You tried to push him away to no avail, it felt like you were trying to push a wall. Your struggling meant nothing to him as he held you tightly enough to keep you in place, but not so much that it was painful.
Despite yourself, you could feel your body responding in kind to his deceptively gentle touches and the occasional fleeting kiss on your skin as he whispered little words of praise or comfort to you, steadily drawing you into your first unsteady orgasm of the day.
Which led you to now, your costume and pants stripped from you and his artificial cock buried deep inside of you as he held you pinned to the floor, his black coating making him look like a wraith among the sea of pink and purple hues. It was so swift that you hadn't the chance to process what he was doing before your eyes widened and a stilted cry left your lips at the sudden intrusion. His faint scent of roses making your head spin as your walls spasm around him, struggling to adjust to him.
"Shhhh, Mon Chéri it'll feel better soon, just wait." Roland held your cheek, making you look into his heterochromic eyes. One the color of the color of the sun and one the color of blood. Both looking at you almost sympathetically, had it not been for the subtle glee in his eyes you might've believed that sympathy to be true.
Before you could muster a reply, he very gently thrusted into you. It was clear now that he had slipped a lubricant on you amidst your earlier distraction of his insistent kisses as he removed your pants, easing your walls into accepting the stretch as each inch slowly sunk into you.
"This isn't..." You shut your eyes tightly as he slowly thrusted into you again, more lubricant this time than the last quickly turning the intitial pain into pleasure. "This isn't what lovers do."
Roland raised a brow, his hips pulling back only to steadily push into you once more, reaching deeper with the help of the lubricant as you heaved an unsteady sigh. The sensation wasn't as painful as you'd hoped. "Isn't this what lovers do in a place like this?" Another drag of his cock easily had your body relaxing against the colorful floor of the venue. Empty chairs watching you both from a short distance away.
"They'd say their vows and consummate their love, ensuring they always love one another until the end of time?" His hold on your wrists had a grown a little tighter as a squelching sound filled the silence between you. You could feel arousal hightening your senses and making your body receptive to his actions despite you wishing it wouldn't.
Roland smiles sickeningly sweet as he leans in, your faces mere breaths apart. "You want this too, I can tell." He whispers before placing small kisses on the corner of your mouth. You take in a breath, about to protest before his eyes narrow slightly and a sudden thrust of his hips takes your breath away and leaves your mind buzzing with pleasure.
He kisses your face a few times, humming in satisfaction with your silence as he sets a steady pace inside you. Each thrust making his tip hit that place that had you seeing stars. If you didn't know any better, you would say it was almost with practiced precision, like he knew every inch of you better than you could ever hope to know yourself.
You can feel the smile on his lips as he decorates your neck with kisses, his iron grip on your wrists never once loosening. "You know, I was surprised when you contacted me." He whispers breathlessly, lightly nipping at your skin as your unsteady breaths turn into squeaks and moans. "I was certain this was a mere trap, or something so important it had left you desperate to achieve your goal no matter who you had to do it with." At that moment, a chime sounds and the doors leading to the exit of the maze open and all you can do is stare at it through glossy eyes as pleasure hits you like a wave with every thrust of his hips.
Roland chuckles again as he looks down at you, a gloating smile playing on his lips as he watches you fall apart, your human desires overtaking any protest or fight you might've had. "But when I came here and found out that you were simply naive enough to seek company from your enemy, well..." He drifts off, as his hips start slamming into yours with something that mimicked reckless abandon yet lacked the recklessness, being more akin to something designed for squeezing every little bit of pleasure out of you. "I couldn't help myself. How could an actor like me resist such an interesting plot?"
You jerk suddenly, your eyes seeing white as an orgasm crashes into you, leaving you dizzy in its wake as Roland's thrusts don't slow down or stop for a second. "You are such an interesting human. Like a blooming flower on a battlefield, I can't help wanting to pick it up and keep it for myself." He whispers with an edge, each brutal thrust of his hips making you writhe underneath him as your pleas are reduced to senseless babbling.
He leans in, your foreheads resting against each other and in this moment his expression falls away into something softer, almost loving. "We spent so much time arguing amongst ourselves, but seeing you like this makes everything we've done worth it." His voice sounds soft and raw, like a confession whispered only for his ears.
"C-can't...what...mngh..." Roland smiles and cups your cheek with his hand, freeing one of your wrists now that you can't struggle. His thumb brushes your bottom lip and it sickens you how genuinely happy he looks, his eyes full of adoration as the gentlest smile plays on his lips.
"I love you so much, you have no idea how many nights and days I spent on this Earth yearning for something to truly call mine." His pace becomes faster, any embers of your sanity fading with each slap of skin as the body heat of the construct above you rises. "And now, I can finally say..."
He grunts, his body shuddering as his eyes snap closed, a growl reverberating in his chest as he struggles to hold something back. "I can finally say..." His voice module strains as he arches into you, his cock somehow reaching deeper as he places messy kisses along your neck before he brings his face back up to yours again.
"I love you." His whispered words can barely register before his lips crash into yours, his eyes open to drink in every expression you make as he moans into the kiss. Your hips instinctively buck up into his as something hot coats your insides, he gives a final thrust to make sure you take every last drop of what he has to give and the sensation is enough to make your back arch as your second orgasm takes you.
He kisses you again and again, barely letting you breath as his other hand abandons your wrist and settles to hold your hip instead. "You have no clue how long I've wanted this to be true. Even if this is just a dream, or a play, I'm tired of playing to the audience's whims." He sounds ecstatic and desperate as he wraps his arms around and lifts you up as he slowly stands with cock still buried inside you, as if his previous orgasm meant nothing to him.
"Where are..." You slump against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You could barely speak, only just now having been given the privilege of breathing as you're vaguely aware he's walking, colors and light shifting around you in a blur.
"A proper place to continue our act, of course." He says as if it's obvious and kisses your forehead. "I'm not done yet." You're vaguely aware you're indoors again, a small living space greeting you, or perhaps you always were and you were too tired to notice.
"I hope this is to your taste," Roland says with his usual bravado. "Because we'll be here for a while." The bedroom door opens, revealing a bed illuminated by surrounding candles and the glitters of chains tied to its bedposts.
#unhappy writings#unhappy drabbles#yandere roland#yandere roland pgr#yandere pgr#yandere punishing gray raven#yandere noncon#yandere robot#cyborg yandere#yandere#yandere male x you#yandere male x gn reader#yandere x gn reader#gn reader#tw.nsfw#tw.yandere#tw.noncon#yandere writing#yandere writer#yandere male
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The Weight of a Letter(5)
A/N: It's a bit stupid, but it's done. Sorry for the gross writing, I'm just tired and had to write this in advance so I didn't have to worry over my trip. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.
Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger @whygz
Part 1 - Previous - Next
Words: 3387
Content warnings: Stalking, Paranoia, dark themes, breaking and entering, throwing up
Chapter 5: A Silent Act
I shovel the school made mac n’ cheese into my mouth, watching the other kids in the cafeteria move by. Scanning the crowd as I try my best to not spit up my food, I tap on the envelope sitting in my lap. It was another letter from the mysterious ‘Othello Von Ryan’, having survived its journey into my locker once more. I huff, chewing on my cheek and I poke at my food with my spork. The more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense.
I had gotten five letters so far, each one accompanied with flowers, and up until now, a box of chocolates. My eyes drift to the pink flower I had set on the table, my hand moving to softly touch its petals. Out of everything given, I liked the flowers the most. The red tulip, a red carnation, a small bundle of baby’s breath, a gardenia, and now, a pink flower, layered in petals.
I twist a petal of the light pink flower in between two fingers, admiring its full bloom. It was gorgeous, and completely undamaged. I couldn’t help but admire its beauty. But how had it made its way into my locker, completely unharmed? Me and Irma had been trying to solve this mystery since the first letter arrived, but we were nowhere near figuring it out.
I look up when I feel the table shift, Irma taking her spot across from me. I marveled at her uncanny ability to appear as soon as I started thinking of her. Irma smiles at me, pushing her lunch tray away. I don’t blame her, I was already regretting eating the provided food. I pass her my apple, Irma taking it gleefully as she eyes the flower. Taking a bite, she chews for a bit while tapping her finger next to the petals.
“Huh, no chocolates this time. Is that the new one?” I nod at Irma’s words, pulling out the letter and offering it out to her. Irma takes the envelope, opening it carefully. Her pointer finger and thumb rest on the paper, not pulling it out yet. “It was still sealed, (Y/n). Did you not read it yet?”
“I wanted to wait for you.” I shove another spoonful of my mac ‘n cheese into my mouth, trying to gag on the mush as I wait for Irma to pull out the letter and read it. In all honesty, I was starting to hate the letters. It was all too much as of late, and me and Irma were nowhere near figuring out who was sending them. My eyes glance around the cafeteria, on the lookout for shadows. They were getting more and more frequent, closer and less concealed. I hated it, hated the way I was barely able to live without the fear of some stupid figure my imagination made up. Hated the way my pulse spiked at every little thing crossing my vision.
Irma’s eyes rake over my face, taking in the details she had probably memorized by this point. I take another bite of my food and dust off my hands to the side, Irma clearing her throat before starting to read the letter out loud.
“Dear (Y/n),” She starts in a dramatized voice. I snort, shaking my head as I grin. She puts on a fake accent, eyeing me with a small smile. Every letter started with the same normal opening before diving into sappy madness as the writer described their love. Irma tried to make the letter seem as regal as possible, reading them becoming one of her favorite things. “You’ve continued to breach my thoughts even though we have barely talked. Everything I create I now do in your name. In my brother’s words, you’ve become my muse.”
Irma pauses for a moment, taking another bite of her apple. She quickly chews before swallowing, continuing her theatrical telling of the letter. “You’re breathtaking, completely astonishing. You complete me, and I am truly the only thing you need.” Irma grimaces a bit at that statement, fake gagging to make me laugh before continuing on. “I promise I will reveal myself soon, seeing as I don’t think I can go without you much longer.”
“Ooo,” I say, tapping the table. “Looks like they might just tell us instead of us having to play the detective.”
Irma rolls her eyes, hushing me. I pretend to zip my lips shut, earning a snicker from my friend. “I cannot wait until you're mine, until we are together. Nothing will come between us, that I promise you. These letters are not enough to suffice my need to be by your side, to love and care for you as you deserve. I will be the best thing that ever happened to you. Until the time comes, forever yours, Othello Von Ryan.”
Irma sets the letter down, sliding it over to me. I pick it up and scan the writing, shaking my head in disbelief. “Well, we know one thing for certain. The writer sure thinks highly of himself.”
Irma tries to stop her grin from forming, her hand moving over her mouth to muffle her laugh. She reaches over and picks up the flower twirling it in between her fingers. “Have you checked to see what it is yet?”
I shake my head, looking at the flower in her hands. It really was beautiful, as were all the flowers I had been gifted. “You have the app. I don’t.”
Irma sighs dramatically as she pulls out her phone, taking a picture of the flower and uploading it to one of her plant identification apps. Considering neither of us knew much about plants, Irma came up with the idea of checking what plant it was through an app in case they were poisonous or rash inducing. Which would be a great idea if I hadn’t completely manhandled each flower before we checked. Irma glances up at me, showing me her phone screen. “It’s a camellia, one of the pink variety, as you can obviously see.”
I nod, taking the flower back as Irma continues to eat her lunch. I admire the flowers' delicate beauty, its soft pink petals layered atop one another make the flower full. This flower, like all the others, had not been damaged when it was put into my locker. I didn’t know how I felt about this. Sure, the letters were sweet, the flowers romantic, and the previous chocolates delicious, but did all that really make the fact someone might be breaking into my locker null and void? I chew on the inside of my cheek, thinking about it. I didn’t want the letters or flowers to stop, that was for sure. Receiving these gifts made me feel special, like I mattered. As selfish as that was, I didn’t want to give it up.
The chatter of the teenagers around me reverberates in my head, my eyes scanning the room. Any one of these people could be the writer, I just had to figure out who. I hoped it wasn’t some mean trick, some prank to fool me into loving someone. I just wanted to matter to someone. Having a special someone in light of all my trouble sounded great. Irma grabs my hand, bringing me back into the now, the sound around me quieting down once more. She taps my knuckles with her thumb, her brown eyes staring deep into my own. I feel slight guilt for my thoughts at her stare. Even if the letters weren’t real, Irma was. She was my friend, she cared. I knew I would never lose her.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” She asks softly, letting go of my hand now that she pulled me back out of the clouds. I rub the heel of my hand against my eyes, frowning slightly. I didn’t want to have to bother Irma with this, she already helped me with so much. It felt like I was just taking and never giving her anything in return.
“Just… worried about the letters, I guess.” I admit. I lean into my arms, hoping Irma wouldn’t press. To my relief, she doesn’t. Irma pats my arm, a hopeful grin on her face.
“Yeah, I’ve been worried as well. We can mess around with your locker before leaving school, okay?”
“We’ve been messing with it.” I point out.
“Well maybe we missed something. Plus, if it doesn’t work, we can just go to the front office and ask for a new locker.” Irma says, picking up both of our trays and going to throw them away. I stand up, glancing at the clock. We had one minute before lunch ended. I nod, conceding.
“Sure. One more time.”
—
Irma punched my locker now that the halls were desolate, the sound of Irma’s fist colliding with the steel echoing through the halls.
“Careful tiger, you might just bust it open.” A dopey grin stretches across my face, Irma turning to me in annoyance.
“I just. I don’t get how someone could get in! Try opening it again, maybe there’s a mechanic in the lock you can exploit.” Irma throws her hands the air, a strangled noise sounding from her throat. Her neck was flushed red, frustration shining through her usual relaxed demeanor. It was hard for her to not understand something, especially when it came to matters like this. I was glad Irma wasn’t the one getting the letters. She’d interrogate the entire school trying to find them.
I push off from the wall I was leaning against, standing in front of my locker and putting in the code. I pull up the lock’s trigger and yank, groaning when nothing happens. I yank on the grip in frustration, wanting to kick the darn thing myself. I move to put in the code again, but I get startled by a loud gasp from behind me. I whip my head around to look at Irma, her eyes trained on the top corner of my locker. The basketball star moves in between me and the metal, her fingers gripping the top corner and pulling. It comes loose, the metal bending until the lock catches it.
My mouth gapes at the sight. The locker opened enough to fit someone’s hand through before the metal refused to bend. Irma let the locker snap back into place, looking at me proudly. “We found the exploit!”
I straighten up a bit at her proud announcement, shaking my head as I grin. Irma claps her hands, her face morphing into a scary grin. “Oh ho ho, we can so use this to our advantage.”
I look at Irma, confused. What did that even mean, was she planning on hurting the writer? “What?”
Irma picks up both of our bags that were on the ground, dragging me towards the exit. I stumble a bit before regaining my balance. I toddle alongside her, Irma starting to ramble on about her idea.
“We now know how they get into your locker, which means we can totally set a trap! They most likely stick their hand into the opening to set everything down, so if we put a bag of colored stain there, their hand will get stained! We can literally catch them red handed!” Irma grins widely, letting go of my hand to rub hers together. “Oh, this will be so fun.”
I shake my head, laughing softly. I didn’t mind not knowing yet. Sure, some of the letters had been a bit… Odd, but none had been too dangerous so far. The person writing them was probably just awkward.
“Are we sure we want to do that? It feels… Mean.” I say, rubbing my arm awkwardly. It rubbed me the wrong way to do something like that, especially since they had been mostly sweet thus far. Irma huffs, sticking out her tongue at me.
“You never let me have any fun.”
I lightly shove her to the side, blowing air from my nose. “Oh you do not get to say that. Who’s the one who banned me from playing hide and seek in the apartments when we were seven?”
“You completely totaled poor Ms. Fitzgerald’s plants! And I only made the rule of no going into the halls!” Irma laughs, shoving me back. I chuckle to myself, a wide grin on my face. Everything was perfect right now, I never wanted this to end. If I could stop time, it’d be right now. Just us laughing, reminiscing on our old games. We exit the school and head to our shared complex, joking on the way. I absentmindedly scan the rooftops, humming softly as I look for the ever-present shadows.
I feel my stomach drop when I see the familiar figure on the rooftop across the road, leaning against an AC unit. It was half shrouded in the shadows, produced by the building to its right. I stop in my tracks, staring at it. I couldn’t move, my blood running cold. A flash of purple was seen before it backed away, my eyes glued to the spot it stood.
“(Y/n)?” Irma’s voice snaps me out of it as I whip my head around to face her. I try to school my face back into my usual smile, but Irma doesn’t buy it. Her face pinches in worry, her eyes shining in sympathy. My throat closes slightly as I look at her, my heart aching. She didn't deserve this, she shouldn’t have to worry. My eyes flick back to the spot I saw the figure. I chew on my lip, conflicted. How much should I tell her?
“Just saw something.” I mumble, moving to continue walking. I don’t elaborate, and Irma doesn’t push, knowing what I was referencing already. I shrink slightly, frowning. I was tired of having everything wrong with me. Irma moves her hand to my shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly and I let out a small sigh. It would all be fine, Irma was here with me. Nothing would happen while we were together.
We walk side by side the rest of the way, neither of us speaking much. I keep my eyes off the rooftops, not wanting to possibly see the figure again. When we enter the complex, the building is silent. Irma lets out a loud groan before yanking me towards the stairs when we see the ‘Out of Order’ sign on the elevator. Irma passes me my bag as we start up the stairs together. I glance at Irma, shifting my bag onto my shoulder. The building seemed much emptier, dead. I wondered if Irma noticed it too.
Irma sees my discomfort and grabs my hand, holding it as we walk up. Our footsteps echo, bouncing off the concrete walls. I flinch slightly when I hear another pair of footsteps in the stairwell, Irma squeezing my hand again.
“Calm down, it’s okay.” Her voice was low and she was mumbling, her eyes looking straight ahead. I dart my eyes across the narrow walkway, my hand moving to grip the rail. Irma squeezes my hand again, rubbing at the knuckle. “You don’t need to be so jumpy, it’s all going to be okay.”
I nod, rubbing my free palm on my shorts. My hands were clammy, my hair on end. I harshly exhale through my nose, closing my eyes. Irma was right, everything would be fine. The shadows were outside, far away from me. They couldn’t get me in here, I was safe. Nothing could touch me. My eyes flicker back and forth between the stairs and the entranceway to Irma’s floor, our feet lightly thudding across the carpeted hall. I pat my hands on my thighs, shifting awkwardly. Irma opens her door and steps inside, waving to me before closing her door.
I stand there for a moment more, barely breathing. I close my eyes, trying to ignore the way my body is shaking. I pull at my shirt as I walk back to the stairwell. I just had to walk up two more flights, and then I was safe. It was okay. Everything would be okay. Nothing can hurt me. My eyes drift to the cameras, trying to memorize where they sit. There was one at every platform, but none on the actual stairs. I speed up, running up the stairs. I would be safe if I could just get to my room.
I run up one flight, then two, bolting to my apartment door. I slide my backpack over in front of me, my eyes darting back and forth between the ends of the hallway and my bag as I look for my keys. My heart pounds in my ears, my hands shake and my body tenses as I search. Where were my keys? Why couldn’t I find them? I open more pouches in my bag, dumping things to the floor as I look. I almost cry in relief when the cool metal of my keys hits my hand, picking them up and jamming them into the door.
I open the door and shove my dropped objects inside with my foot, locking the door behind me once I close it. I let my bag drop to the ground as I breath out in relief, my brain buzzing loudly. I spin around and lean backwards, sliding to the floor. I was okay. It was okay. Irma made it to her apartment, and I made it to mine. I was safe.
I lean my head back against the door, my eyes shining with panicked tears that never shed. I could still feel my heart pounding in my chest, warning me of a danger that was never there. I couldn’t help but feel stupid at my actions. I shake my head, pushing off the door and grabbing my backpack by one of the straps. I start to drag it to my room, feeling too overwhelmed to pick it up. I push open my door, shoving my backpack next to my desk. I lift my arms over my head, popping my back. It was over. I was okay.
I continue to repeat this to myself as I run my fingers through my hair, letting myself calm down a bit. I turn to my bed, feeling exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to collapse onto my mattress and sleep. My eyes land on the disheveled covers, my heart stopping. I know I made my bed this morning. I stand there, staring at my bed.
Did someone break in? Was I in danger? What if they’re still here, I need to run, I need to-
No. No, I’m not doing this.
I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to relax my trembling body as I exhale. Everything was fine. I just… Misremembered. Yeah, that’s it. I must have made my bed yesterday, not today. I nod my head, ignoring the way my desk looks as if it had been rifled through, how the flowers that should be dead in my vase seemed fresh. I dig through my backpack for the camellia, humming to myself in desperation to convince myself everything would be just fine. Nothing was wrong, I was just stressed. My school work was getting to me, and I was just being overworked. Everything was normal.
I set the crushed flower in the vase, not looking at the other flowers. To admit they were new was to admit something was wrong. Nothing was wrong. I turn back to my bed and flop down, staring at the ceiling. The fan thrummed above me, its white blades a blur from its movement. I turn to face the window, scanning the skyline of the apartments across the road. My eyes travel to a small piece of fabric fluttering on my window, stuck between the frame and the glass. I slowly get up, inching towards the material. Did I open my window and get a jacket caught? I pick up the black wrapping stuck to my window, it’s fabric rough and the tear jagged. It looked like wrappings someone would use for fighting, something I very much did not own. Someone had been here. I run to the bathroom, my stomach heaving as I spill my lunch into the toilet.
Everything was not okay.
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt donnie#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#donnie rottmnt#donatello#tmnt donatello#donatello hamato#yandere story#tw yandere#yandere rottmnt#yandere tmnt#yandere#yandere donnie x reader#donnie#yandere donnie#rottmnt yandere donnie#yandere rottmnt x reader#tmnt x reader#donnie x reader#yandere donatello#yandere donatello x reader#yandere rottmnt donnie#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt x reader#tw stalking#tw staring#tw paranoia
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KISS THREAT | JEON JUNGKOOK (ONE-SHOT)
description: You swear to god there's something definitely wrong with you, because you're ninety-nine percent sure, there's not even in a hell's chance for you to be in love with Jungkook. Too bad, it's not hundred percent yet.
pairing: jeon jungkook X f.reader
rating: nc-17
genre: humor, angst, hinted smut, a lil’ bit of fluff (hehe)
word count: 2.6k
tags: bestfriends!au, enemies-to-lovers!au, mutual pining
warning: blasphemy; mentions of psychological disorders, the word ‘apocalypse, death; jungkook and oc are brats; hinted smut
note: hey there!!! this is my first time writing a fan-fiction, and since I’m not a native English speaker, pardon me for any grammatical errors that might be in there :))))) moreover, I absolutely suck at writing up a graphic smut so forgive me for that too. I promise there’ll be a lot more coming up and surely, with the required improvement and better plotlines. Constructive criticism is always welcome, as your warm response, appreciation, suggestions and regards are definitely gonna be a booster dose of motivation. also, the story is set up in an alternate universe, which means none of the characters here exist in reality.
P.S. I had to re-post it because I'd forgotten to add the description. I'm really really sorry.
‘This is just my post-period mood swings.’
This is just the 1700th time you’ve mentally told yourself in this one hour. Good for you, this reasonable (solely in your opinion) explanation has almost got you into a hold of phantom state of well-being and almost discarded the notion about you being mentally and emotionally unstable. Too bad, it’s just ‘almost’.
Fortunately, this justification sounds sane enough to be believed. The previous hour had you contemplating on more bizarre extremities: personality disorders, apocalypse, growing economic disparities and social injustice in the world, global warming and even cosmic radiations to be put to blame for the sudden behavioral changes in you.
Yet none of these ridiculous explanations can deny one undeniable fact.
You’re in love with Jeon Jungkook.
Eight years ago, you had come to New York City, with no close contacts and barely any family support on your side. Your conservative Asian parents had aspired for you to become a surgeon.
But better late than never, you came to realize your true passion for literature.
It had dawned upon you that writing love poetries about the dusky evenings and the moonless nights wasn’t just a favorite past-time but a never-ending love saga, which possibly couldn’t end
into a tragedy.
So you decided that it was high time for you to leave Missouri and go to New York.
But your family didn’t take your confrontation well. To them, the idea of sending their only child to pursue an uncertain career in an unknown place hadn’t appeared so flattering. Yet after a
tremendous period of begging, praying and protesting, they had finally agreed.
The first day of college had you feeling extremely anxious and nervous, but within a week, you found yourself mingling with the group of infamous Asian people, who warmly welcomed your
presence in the group.
One of them was Jeon Jungkook, a nineteen years-old guy from the Korean peninsula, pursuing a degree in Hotel Management. Your friends had described him as the shy, reserved and
charming flower boy of the group.
However, 3 months passed, and you came to realize that he was none of it. Bratty, obnoxious and obstinate, Jungkook was the true embodiment of the Casanova Greek Gods up above in the heaven. Even breathing in the same space with him, vexed you to such an unbelievable extent that you preferred to burn yourself alive rather than replying back to his flirtatious texts.
That was your relationship with him. You combating with his flamboyant charisma for every microsecond passing by while he continued to pour his charm and affection on you.
Even after the college had ended, your friend circle never lost its bonding with time. The memories of your friends meeting your parents for the first time are still fresh in your mind.
Initially, you had been skeptical about your parent’s reaction. But to your surprise, your parents were amazed by the cultural diversity among your friends and warmly welcomed each one of them, as if they were their own blood, and you were the one freeloading onto them.
However, the most unexpected event was the instant bonding up between Jungkook and your mother. Jungkook must’ve got her into a strong hold, because even till now, when she calls you up, she prefers to ask more questions about Jungkook’s new Biryani recipe rather than asking you about your well-being.
Jungkook & you have always done things together. Let it be your first book getting published or Jungkook’s first day as a junior chef at Keen’s Steakhouse, it’s either together or nothing at all.
Until the last month, when Jungkook made it official with girlfriend Sera, whom he had been secretly dating. Your friends were surprised, but you, were shocked to death. You couldn’t believe yourself for witnessing the love hypothesis Sera and him were making. The idea of someone as unsettled as Jungkook settling down had left you severely unsettled.
So unsettled, that you’d stopped watching and reading pornography, stopped bargaining for prices at the supermarket, stopped sending dirty crass memes on your group-chat and started pouring milk before cereal. For the whole fucking month.
That’s when your conscience made you think, that maybe, just maybe, you did like Jungkook.
But this thought appeared so infuriating to you, that you found yourself under the vicinity of various excuses and put the blame onto the blank history of your life.
And soon, you were back being obnoxious and clumsy. But you knew how bad you were at pretending. And your friends knew better, and yet no one budges to disclose the reason of your restlessness. They spare you the time to think and the space to contemplate.
Nonetheless, it doesn’t help significantly as Jungkook himself is your friend, and unlike the rest of your friends, he doesn’t know anything about the concept of personal space. In fact, invading one’s privacy is
his biggest kink in this universe. Especially if he’s intruding you.
And every single time, when he leans in closely, to hear you just telling him to ‘fuck off’, you fear the proximity, because you’re afraid of him hearing the loud thumping of your heartbeat.
But you’re quick enough to recover. As usual, like always.
However, last week, something happened.
All of a sudden, Jungkook broke ties with Sera. His first-ever official relationship didn’t even last for twenty-eight days. This should’ve worried you, he’s a friend after all. But you, on the contrary, felt relieved, as if some load had been lifted off your chest. And then, it hit you hard.
That perhaps you didn’t like Jungkook, you loved him. This sudden realization was so emotionally taxing on you, that last night, you ended up texting Jungkook, that you wanted to tell him something very impertinent.
Something along the lines of “Hey, Jeon. I think I’m in love with the idea of being in love with you. So yeah, basically, I’m in love with you. And oh boy, believe me, you suck.”
Now, the very same Jungkook had been sitting beside you on your couch for past two hours and thirty minutes, watching “Black Swan” with you.
Now the opportunity was presenting itself in front of you, and you were dreading it, would be an understatement.
“So what were you gonna tell me?” Jungkook’s voice breaks through the thickness of awkward silence, bringing you back to the reality, as you see the credits rolling over the screen.
“Nothing, really.” You try to play it cool as you continue munching onto the leftover Pringles.
Jungkook turns his head from the screen, his darting over yours, as his eyebrows lifts up in confusion.
“Y/N, you’re the one who called me up yesterday, because you had to tell me something very ‘important’.” You feel your muscles tense up as you see him air-quoting the word important.
The sincerity in his eyes is more than enough for you to spill everything out, but you hold onto that hesitation as you meet his eyes.
“Jeon, I’m fine, okay? I just think it was because of my mood swings and nothing else.” You place your hand on his shoulder, trying to put a more convincing act as you smile at him.
Jungkook, however scoffs and changes his sitting position as he turns his body towards you, his left thigh now placed on the couch and his left hand placed on the headrest, his full attention on
you now.
But your sole attention is on his highlighting crotch, aiming directly at you, as carnal desires fill up your dirty mind, yet you’re quick enough to regain your composure as you make eye contact with Jungkook, and you can tell, he isn’t having any of your bullshit today.
“Do I look like a dumb-fuck to you, Y/N? At least don’t lie to my fucking face.”
“Jungkook, dude, I’m not-”
“It’s been a month since you’ve started acting weird.” He cuts you off before you can explain yourself and guilt washes you up as you see the agitation in his eyes.
“Million times I’ve asked you and million times you’ve lied to me, but not this time, Y/N. You know what, I feel like I’m the only one putting up my hundred percent in this friendship.” His shoulders drop as his head hangs low.
You’ve never seen Jungkook flushing red with so much anger, profanities threatening to overflow from his lips, if the demo before wasn’t enough. The disappointment is sheer evident in his eyes. He looks exhausted from putting up with you. And
your mind goes blank.
For the first time in your life, you’re afraid of losing Jungkook. Afraid of losing his friendship and everything that comes along with it.
His head is still hanging low, his nostrils flaring with anger, when all of a sudden your mouth develops a mind of its own and you blurt it out.
“I’m in love with you.” The words falling from your lips are merely little louder than a whisper, but Jungkook’s ears are quick enough to catch them. He instantly freezes and his eyebrows knit
up in confusion.
“What?” His gaze rests upon you expectantly as you calm yourself down and repeat yourself, each and every word clearly.
“Jeon Jungkook, I think I’m in love with you.” Jungkook’s eyeball gauging out of their sockets, his jaw hanging on the floor as the shock apparently triggered his body too hard, as he takes in your words, remaining in that super-awkward pose for sometime.
You close your eyes, the sick anticipation of rejection hitting your heart. You’re prepared to face the upcoming defeat, ready to take refuge in friend-zone or even worse, sister-zone.
But it never comes. Because after ten seconds of your confession, you witness Jungkook jumping out of the couch, falling onto the floor and rolling, holding his stomach for life as he laughs
hysterically.
“What’s so funny?” You hadn’t expected any of this, especially the kind of outburst Jungkook is projecting out right now.
Your question, however, doesn’t help as he continues to laugh louder than before, this time somehow managing to secure a seat on couch beside you, yet failing to understand the seriousness of the situation.
“Shut the fuck up.” You rebuke with the ever-increasing anger inside you.
“I can’t.” He manages to reply in between his mocking laughter. He is certainly having the best time of his life, meanwhile you’re sneering with annoyance, the flames of burning aggression reaching its peak.
So you end up blurting out the most stupid thing that comes into your brain.
“Shut up or I’ll kiss you.”
The world must have stopped its course, an apocalypse is surely on its way and cosmic radiations must encroached your entirety as your ability to sense things has absolutely gone downhill. The realization dawns upon you that Jungkook has stopped laughing now, as he looks at you in amusement and curiosity.
“You, out of all people, are gonna kiss me? That’s a dangerous territory, Y/N.” He comes closer as he leans in, his musky scent challenging the control you hold over your conscience. Your weak response must’ve boosted his ego by zillion times, because the next moment, you see him closing the gap between you two, as his lips graze your the shell of your ears, which are probably glowing red by the proximity between you two.
“You’ve bombarded me with death threats so many times and every single time, I’ve laughed it off as nothing. But now you’ve presented me a mere kiss threat…” Jungkook says as he rests his head on your shoulder “…and for the first time, I actually feel threatened.”
You can hear the loud thumping of your heart, and the way Jungkook’s heartbeat resonates with your own, it’s maddening. His breathing relaxed and deep, one of his hands grips the curve of your waist, while the other one finds its home in the cavern of your neck. His fingertips trace the sharp outline of your neckbones as you two confide in each other silently.
How blinded you’d been all this time by your reluctance to sense Jungkook’s internal war with your resistance. The passion in his eyes had been imminent since the beginning, his boldness that was latent to the others, only coming to life when you were in his vicinity, his gaze lingering on you for a minute longer to be considered appropriate for someone one would regard as a mere
friend.
There was a mute, invisible intimacy between Jungkook and you. You felt it whenever your hands brushed accidentally, you felt it whenever you would make eye contact and a smile threatened to stretch on your lips and you felt it whenever Jungkook added a new romantic song in your collaborative Spotify playlist.
You had been aware all along the way, conversely, you had been hyperaware about the subsequent consequences way too much, only to neglect whatever held you two together.
The penultimate realization must have struck you hard, as a shiver runs down your spine when Jungkook starts letting you go, pulling away only to stop few inches away from your lips.
“What will you do if I tell you I feel the same way? Will you push me away?” Jungkook whispers as his breath touches your lips. His hands cup your face as you close the gap between you two, your lips connecting with his, the taste of vanilla evident as his lips move gently against yours. While his hands slip down to waist, your hands wrap around his neck, one of your hands running through his luscious black hair.
A minute later, you feel Jungkook’s weight slowly heaving upon your body as you recline back on the couch while he manages to place himself in between your legs as he kisses you deeply.
After a few seconds, he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours, as you both gasp for breath.
“I love you, Y/N. Damn, I can’t believe I waited for eight years for you to just say it to me today.” You both chuckle wholeheartedly as he stares deep into your eyes.
“Want me to make it up you then?” You tease him as you run your hands on his back over his T-shirt, eliciting a moan out of his lips as he leans down to place butterfly kisses on your neck.
“You sure you want to do it?” He inquires as he raises himself up once again and looks at you earnestly.
“Yeah. I don’t think I can wait anymore.” You reassure him with sincerity, as you both get up from the couch and rush to your bedroom, Jungkook carrying you in his arms, promising love and harmony for whatever lies ahead in the future.
copyrights reserved for © nishibishi | 2022
#jungkook smut#jungkook#bts x reader#bts angst#bts fluff#bts#bts smut#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jung hoseok#seokjin#taehyung#park jimin#namjoon#jimin#jeon jungkook x reader#jk#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk manga#jjk art#jeon jungkoooook#jeon jungguk#kim taehyung#bts fanfic#jimin angst#bts one shot#bts writing#bts packs
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This is my first time taking part in a bingo of any kind : ] Kudos to @fandom-free-bingo for creating my bingo card. Constructive criticism is welcome since this is also my first time writing for a fandom.
Masterlist Masterlist²
Prompt used: Forehead Kisses
Rating: General
Fandom: The Sandman
Pairing: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling
Tags: fluff, established relationship, possible out of character
Warnings: none
Word count: 391
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Hob finally finished checking and grading his students' tests. Winter break and Christmas is in about two weeks. Therefore it's no surprise his students are putting less effort in school. Everybody's excited and restless.
Hob, himself, is no better. Especially since this year he's gonna spend it with his Stranger, his friend and now his lover - Dream! (Hob finally knows his friend's name. Morpheus, King of Dreams and Nightmares, The Sandman, Prince of Stories, Shaper of Forms, Dream of the Endless. He shall rejoice with that knowledge in his heart forever.)
His first Christmas with Dream. That thought alone doesn't fail to bring a smile on Hob's face.
Hob gathers all papers after sorting them and tucks them in respective folders. Hob goes to stand up from his desk when the sound of sand swirling in the air reaches his ears.
"Hob." Dream greets Hob with that sultry voice of his which makes Hob's grin even wider.
Nowadays Dream drops by almost every few days. Unless The Dreaming or other tasks need his undivided focus and attention - Dream tends to come unannounced. Hob doesn't mind. At all. In fact, some days, he still finds it astonishing how the Endless prefers his company.
In seconds Hob is in front of his lover. "Hello Duck." he presses a quick kiss on Dream's lips "Just finished grading. So we can head home now."
"Hmm.. I know." Dream hums.
"You watched and waited, didn't you?"
"Perhaps." Hob hears the amusement in his lover's voice.
"You're lucky I love you." Hob kisses Dream's forehead.
"I'm aware." Dream replies half teasingly, half seriously. "I wonder at your kindness and love you harbor for me. I'm exceptionally fortunate to have your affection direct my way." Hob can't look away from those bright stars in his lover's eyes. "Everyone I loved I brought to ruin. Yet I fully treasure your heart as you hold mine with such care. " Dream murmurs. Hob presses a long kiss on his partners head with his eyes closed. Filled with love and admiration he tightens his arms around Dream and whispers "You deserve it."
Dream rests his head on Hob's shoulder. They stay in each other's embrace. Neither of them willing to pull away.
"You break my heart. You wanted to me to cry." Hob breaks the silence.
"Perhaps."
"Love, you're ridiculous." Hob laughs.
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I honestly think I got more than a little sidetracked. I think that's gonna be my goal for the next prompt - to stay on topic. : ]]
#dreamling#bingo#the sandman#dream of the endless#hob gadling#FandomFreeBingo#fluff#fanfic#dream x hob#FrostyEditionBingo#dreamling fanfic#sandman fic
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Winter Waltz
Notes :
Hello !! This is my first time writing a fic so i'm sorry if it's not up to standards </3 While reading the Winter Wonderland prompt list this idea came to mind and I just couldn't NOT write it down. So I gave writing a shot ! Constructive criticism or suggestions to help me improve are 100% welcomed 🤍
【 FILE INFO 】:
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
➣ Slight (It isn’t slight, im so sorry) ooc Dottore
➣ Dottore x gn!reader
「PROMPTS」 # 16, 23, 25
「WORD COUNT」: 647
「EVENT」: Winter Wonderland by @dustofthedailylife
↯ CW: none
It has been a while since Dottore has visited you, usually, he would be out and about executing orders from the Tsaritsa, or attending fatui meetings. Leaving his schedule packed. It was finally the month of December and you decided, why not give him a surprise visit in Snezhnaya? Christmas was coming and you wanted to spend it with Dottore, it would be your first Christmas together. Surely even the Fatui gets holiday breaks too right?
You finally stepped out onto the docks of Sneznhaya, it was a sight to behold, the land covered in a blanket of white. You clearly underestimated the temperature, this being the first time you went into the nation, it seems like you didn't have enough layers on you. You clearly lacked preparation.
Oh, oh you clearly lacked necessary preparation. Dottore has never told you the location of his lab, he never felt like he had to tell you, because he expected to be taking you to Sneznhaya. He never expected you to go on a surprise visit.
Gears started turning in your head, how am I going to make it to the lab? Will I be able to survive in this cold? Maybe if I look around for a bit I can run into a Fatui member and ask them where his lab is? Scratch that, I don't even think they know me.
“Name.” Your thought process was interrupted by a voice, a very familiar voice. You look took a glance behind you to confirm if you were hearing things or if he really was there. He is there, Dottore, in the flesh, standing and staring at you, arms crossed with a questioning look on his face.
“How?.. ” you stared back at him in bewilderment. Dottore sighs and started explaining something regarding his clones, right his clones... You couldn't catch the rest of his explanations, it was starting to get unbearably freezing. You felt something draped over your shoulders, it was a long white coat with black fur, it was the coat Dottore was wearing. "You're cold, take it. We don't want you dying during your first visit do we?" He chuckled as he started walking in a direction, the direction to his lab you assumed.
This was the very first time you were seeing actual snow, you saw them on the pictures Dottore would include when he sends mails to you, but you never saw them with your own two eyes. Not too far off into the distance you could see a frozen lake. Dottore notices your attention is focused elsewhere and looks at the direction your attention was focused to.
"Do you wanna go to the lake?" He asks. You weren't sure if you were disrupting his schedule, what if he had meetings to be in right now? Dottore, sensing your worries grabs your hand and makes a detour towards the frozen lake.
"Everyone should dance amidst the falling snowflakes at least once in their lives." He hummed offering you support while he leads you to step onto the iced lake. It was hard to get a hold of yourself at first, almost landing on your butt a couple of times if it wasn't for Dottore holding your hand.
You skated and slid across the surface of the lake, admiring the colorless landscape. Compared to you who is constantly almost in the verge of slipping every second, Dottore skid gracefully, it almost even seemed like a dance. Before you knew it, Dottore was holding you by your waist and hand, inviting you for an enthralling dance of waltz, on this grandiose stage of ice.
Pulling you in, one last time to end off the dance. "You're definitely the only person I would do this for." He murmurs, head on your shoulder, arms wrapping you in the warmest embrace. One warm enough, to brave the glacial winds of Shneznhaya.
#dust winter wonderland#🤍 : genshin files#🤍 : fic files#dottore#dottore x reader#dottore genshin impact#il dottore#zandik#dottore x you#dottore x gn reader#Genshin#genshin impact#dottore genshin
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Hello! Welcome to the first real chapter of Krampuslauf. I know i just posted the prolouge a bit ago, but I'm so excited about this concept right now that I just had to continue writing. I hope you guys like this one!
Prolouge
(English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes)
🌲Krampuslauf(2/?)🌲
Summary:
A nice Christmas getaway, this is what this should've been. An out from your regular stressful life, but things quickly turn from sweet to sour after a certain someone or something invites himself into your life.
A König x fem!reader fanfic inspired by the folktales of Krampus
Disclaimer: he talks about hurting reader but not in detail!!!
This is an 18+ story, so minors please dni!
The bathwater is luke warm when you get out, the wine glass is empty and you're well relaxed. After taking one of the fluffy towels you wrap it tightly around yourself and go towards the sink it's time to get ready for bed. Your luggage can wait, you'll have time for that tomorrow.
Reaching the master bedroom after quickly pulling your pajamas out of your suitcase you smile to yourself. This bedroom is a massive upgrade from yours back home. A king-sized bed a great view and even a fireplace. Yeah you can definitely manage with this place.
Falling into the bed felt like falling on a cloud, soft, warm, and fuzzy. The amounts of blankets and pillows comforting to the touch. Immediately the exhaustion sets in, the jetlag and the long drive finally catching up. After getting comfortable you quickly fall into a dream-less sleep.
You made it almost pitifully easy for him to stalk you. Leaving your curtains open like this, like you want someone to watch you be so vulnerable. His masked head tilts as he focuses on you. Leaning against the windowsill, his eyes glowed an ominous redish blue through the two holes at the front.
After a while of watching you a thought made its way to his head, he could just break in right now...do horrible things to you, unspeakable even. Make sure after he's done with you, people will fear him again. No, not tonight it's too early he tels himself. he'll let you live a bit longer.. let you settle in.
And when the time is right, he'll make you wish you had stayed wherever you came from...
The morning sun makes you squint your eyes as you slowly rise from the bed and stretch. You look around the room again, and your gaze stops by the window. Weird... yesterday an even coat of snow covered the windowsill. You were sure of it, maybe it was a bird or squirrel or it was always like that. Probably nothing to worry about.
After getting up and making your way downstairs you rummage through the cupboards and fridge. There isn't much to eat, mostly dry stuff and a few cans of fruit and onw with stew. You'd definitely have to drive to the small village at the bottom of the mountain to get some more things to eat.
After a quick meal consisting of crackers and some marmalade, you take your suitcases and drag them up the stairs to your bedroom. Opening the big doors to the wardrobe you start to stuff your clothes in it, making sure to put together an outfit together on the way. Now done with stuffing the wardrobe, you push your empty luggage under the bed and get changed.
You walk down the stairs once more and put your winter boots on by the door. As much as you'd love to just stay holed up here in the mountains for the next 14 days you still need food, so that meant driving down the snowie roads and getting enough food as to not make another trip down.
He watches silently as you walk out of the cabin and get in your car and start the motor. Good. That would give him some time to think about the best way to go about this.
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Hi! Thanks for reading chapter 1 of Krampuslauf! It's a bit short but I think as the story continues they'll get longer. I hope you guys liked it. Constructive criticism is always appreciated <3
Since you wanted to get tagged :) @kneelingshadowsalome
#call of duty#cod mw2#cod mwii#fanfic#cod konig#cod x reader#cod x y/n#cod x you#fanfiction#cod könig#könig call of duty#könig x reader#könig cod#könig#könig mw2#cod x female reader#fantasy#first chapter#call of dooty#cod imagine#cod fanfic#cod writer#call of duty konig
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Yearning for her (Sebastian Sallow x Hufflepuff OC)
Notes: Hi! This is my very first fanfic. My intention was to write a oneshot with a smut scene but I ended up writing more than expected, so I suppose now my next goal is finish it in a second chapter 😅 I am a completely rookie at writing, I'm just trying to have fun while I improve my skills. Please keep in mind that I'm not a English native speaker. Any corrections and constructive criticism are very welcome 🤗 (link with second part below).
Warnings: Angsty, Spoilers from Hogwarts Legacy, jealousy, toxic behavior, possessive Sebastian, smut (fingering, masturbation), toxic relationship, WiP✍🏻
Word count: 2826
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December, 1891. Alessa, Sebastian and Ominis are in their sixth year at Hogwarts following the events in Hogwarts Legacy. The relationship between Sebastian and Ominis was back to normal after a summer filled with conflict and reconciliation. Alessa has found a great friendship in both of the boys. But even though the situation calmed down and they finally could get a normal school year, there were still some unresolved tensions.
Sebastian noticed Alessa since last course, when they had their first duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, a mysterious girl who had just arrived at Hogwarts at the age of 16 and, nevertheless, she beat him without even disheveled. Along the school year, she gave him her absolut support for trying to find a cure for Anne, his twin. Her great easiness to learn spells and cast them on the battlefield, her curiosity, her thirst for adventure and her kind heart made Sebastian lose his head for her over time. Since they finished 5th year and started in 6th year, he wanted to go a step further to show her how massive his desire was for her, but the guilt for his terrible past acts kept stopping him.
The only thing that didn't stop was his jealousy every time some guy got close to her. Alessa became a popular person, everyone at Hogwarts knew who she was, the girl who defeated Ranrok and Rookwood, apart from excelling in his classes even having started so late. “I approached her first'' thought Sebastian with rage each time something like that happened, while being flooded by feelings of urgency to make her his. Every time he saw her walking the halls or at the classroom, he couldn't take his eyes off her.
*********
Today was Potion class with Professor Sharp, in the morning. There she was, as radiant as every day and ready at her table, on Omini’s left side. Normally, when she was attending classes, she pulled back her hair in a low bun and a small and rebel lock always fell over her left cheekbone. Sebastian asked himself how it would be to the touch, imagining his fingers meandering through her hair, caressing her from the temple to her nape, at the same time he pulled his head close to hers, sensing their warm breath one over the other, until they lightly rub their lips and… “Are you planning to go in or are you going to stay by the door all day, Mr. Sallow?" Professor Sharp protested over Sebastian’s shoulder, he came behind him to start the class.
Everyone left what they were doing and they turned to the door, standing up, as a welcome to the Professor. “I’m sorry, Professor”, Sebastian's cheeks flushed when he realized he was daydreaming, so he bowed his head and quickened his step to reach his corresponding cauldron, sitting on Alessa’s left side, leaving her in the middle of Ominis and himself. “A great start to the day, I see” Ominis mocked Sebastian. “You…see?” he answered in a sarcastic tone while raising his eyebrows and tilting his head to the side. Ominis chuckled at the same time that he was touching a sopophorous bean, helping himself with the sense of smell. “Good morning, Sebastian” Alessa received him at the table with her beautiful smile. He returned the gesture and winked.
“Today we will continue with the Draught of living death potion. Well, even if it doesn't take long to brew, it doesn’t mean it will be easy to make. At the end of the class you will be examined”. Professor Sharp made a pause, scanning his students’ faces, “Tell me, Miss Galaeth. Could you tell me what was the third step in its making?”. Alessa repositions herself in her chair to face the teacher with an upright posture, lowers her hands into her lap as her fingertips play against each other, looking up trying to remember. “Hmm… you have to… stir twice… clockwise”, she concluded faster as she was finishing. “Excellent, 5 points to Hufflepuff”. Alessa could relax her shoulders and let out a small huff of relief, spinning on herself to go back to their desk. To Sebastian, she looked very cute when she behaved that proper in class, knowing how savage she could become outside Hogwarts.
They've spent the rest of the class focusing on their own potion brewing to pass their exam. Sebastian was lost on the notes from his notebook, he had a large amount of annotations filled with priceless information that only he could understand, because his learning method was chaotic, like himself. Alessa began to help Ominis between whispers when she finished her potion successfully, whenever Professor Sharp was busy, when she saw him struggling with it the second time he had to start over. Sebastian looked at them with a serious face, and not because he was worried about them getting caught by the Professor, precisely. Sebastian was happy about the good friendship that has been forged between his best friend and her though, but he couldn't avoid the feeling that something might come up between the two of them. Ominis never confessed anything about Alessa to him, but he didn’t talk about it either, about his true feelings for her. The thought of that brought a knot to his stomach.
Class ended and everyone ran out of there as if someone had dropped a stink bomb. “You cannot realize how much I appreciate your help from before, I owe you” Ominis said to Alessa, his head tilted towards her with his glassy eyes looking nowhere. “The truth is I admire your determination for brewing potions, Ominis. It must be tremendously complex without seeing what you’re doing”, she made a brief pause, “I'm a little embarrassed to admit it, but sometimes I observe you working with the ingredients and…”, she laughed nervously, “...one day I covered my eyes trying to make a Wiggenweld potion. The results were a complete mess!”. Ominis frowned with a smile, “I suppose that for someone who depends on their sight so much, it’s more complicated”. Sebastian started to feel left out so he joined the conversation, “I’ve already tried to learn braille when I met him our 1st year”, he put a hand on Ominis’ shoulder and getting in the way of those two, “The only thing I could manage to understand was the letter ‘A’, because it was just a dot. No idea of the rest”, he raised the same arm that was on Ominis to scratch himself in the nape with his hand.
*********
“I’ll meet you by lunch time, I have no more classes until then” Ominis said, deviating his walk to a secluded bench in the Central Hall, to do some reading about Herbology. Alessa kept her path to the Transfiguration class along with Sebastian and other classmates, like Natty and Garreth. Before crossing the gate to the courtyard, Peeves showed up from nowhere, scaring everyone and Sebastian landed on his butt. “Booo!” The ghost, bursting of laughter, stole Sebastian’s notebook that fell on the floor and, with a fart-like sound plus a sneer, he flew towards the corridor they had left behind, where the Potion class was. “Wiiii. I bet you can't catch me!” screamed Peeves in the distance.
“Damn poltergeist!” Sebastian growled while standing up. “Go without me, I don’t want you to miss class because of me” he said to Alessa, she couldn't do anything but press her lips and to frown her forehead, Peeves' nuisance was very well known, so she wished him good luck and he went ahead quickening his pace to retrieve his notebook, at the same time he was condemning the ghost.
Christmas decorations were starting to appear everywhere at Hogwarts. A lot of boys and girls standing in the halls under the mistletoe, excited, waiting for their crush to try to get a kiss from them. The silly giggles were the soundtrack between classes these days.
“Hey” You are Alessa Galaeth, right?” Alessa was crossing the courtyard that adjoined the Transfiguration class, when a guy from Gryffindor called for her in a deep voice. He was leaning on one side of the many arcs from the corridor that surrounded the patio, his legs and arms crossed. His friends departed and he was left alone. Alessa pointed to herself with one finger and he made a gesture with his hand to her so she would come closer.
“Hi, do you need my help with anything?” She was used to people asking her favors from time to time since she came to the school. The boy straightened, he was tall and corpulent. His golden hair fell flat to his eyebrows, he had piercing indigo blue eyes and his full lips extended to a smile where perfect teeth peeked out. “I’m James Wright, I have the pleasure of meeting you at last, I wanted to know the legend of Hogwarts personally”, the boy stretched out his hand and Alessa did the same, waiting for a handshake, but instead he took her hand softly and planted a kiss on the back. Alessa showed him a courtesy smile, “Nice to meet you too, James, but I’ve never considered myself a legend. By the way, you are the keeper of the Quidditch team, aren’t you?” Alessa has been hearing his name in the girls’ bathroom the whole trimester, every girl wanted to date him before the summer vacations, because he was in the 7th year already and now was their last chance with him. “The very same” he nodded, widening his shoulders proudly.
James was bragging about his last feats on the Quidditch pitch for a few moments. Every few seconds he would take a step to move the conversation further down the corridor. There came a time when Alessa got lost in her thoughts thinking she would be late for class, until a sudden movement surprised her.
James brought his big hand closer to Alessa’s face, he tucked her lock behind her ear and creeped his fingers under her jawline to hold her chin and lift it so they could see each other’s eyes. “My teammates were right, you’re not only an extraordinary witch but also a beautiful one indeed”. Alessa buried his head in the scarf as much as she could. James, with an imposted surprise, signaled to the ceiling “Oh, look! We’re right under the mistletoe”. Alessa looked up instinctively. “Tradition says that anyone who’s been kissed under it, they'll find love”, he continued.
When Alessa returned the gaze, he was arching his back to meet her height. “Would you like to test it?” he whispered in her ear. Blood rose to her cheekbones quickly, “I’m flattered, but I think I'll pass, thank you” she murmured, frowning her eyebrows. James extended his left arm to lean it against the wall, cornering Alessa, their robes rubbed against each other. His other hand went to comb his fringe back, showing his features better. “There’s no need to get nervous”, he chuckled, “Is it because you haven’t kissed anyone yet?”. Alessa’s lips squeezed into a horizontal line, that was a very personal question. She was reserving her first kiss to someone special and he definitely wasn’t.
James wouldn’t give up, his success with the girls made him think that anyone would surrender to his charms, that Alessa was playing hard to get. “Don’t worry, just close your eyes and let yourself go. I bet you another kiss that you’re going to like it”, he said with a seductive voice. Alessa didn’t know where to look, “I thank you for your interest in me, truly, but we can leave it here, ok?” she muttered uneasily while she extended one foot to get out of James's personal space. He grabbed her by her arm, not letting her leave. “You're not going to make me beg, are you? Come on, I’ll buy you something later, at The Three Broomsticks”. Alessa opened her mouth to reply but someone spoke in her place.
“Leave my friend alone! Don’t you have a shred of decency?” Ominis was approaching from the corner of the corridor with his wand raised to guide him, his tone reminded Alessa that time when he scolded her upon hearing her leave the Undercroft the first time she went there. “I think she said NO, so let her be at once!”. James straightened up, broadening his shoulders and letting his arms fall to his sides, Ominis may not be able to see him, but his aura was imposing. “I���m sorry, but this is a private conversation between her and me, so go stick your nose somewhere else, Slytherin”, James sneered at him. Ominis leaned his head even more with anger, adding tension to his hands closed in fists with elbows slightly arched. His body swayed slightly. “I know who you are and my family has direct contact with the Headmaster, if you ever come bothering her again, I’ll have Quidditch to be suspended a second time”. James snorted at the threat “You’ll have the whole school against you, if you do that”. “Do you think I care? Try me and you’ll see” Ominis snapped. Alessa wasn't so sure if he was bluffing or telling the truth, his words were convincing though.
James recognized who Ominis Gaunt was, his last name was very well known in the wizarding world and there weren’t any other blind students in Hogwarts. In case of doubt, James clicked his tongue exasperated, looked at Alessa without saying a word and he walked away where Ominis came from while shaking his head and muttering, consciously bumping his shoulder into his. Ominis wobbled for a moment not expecting the tackle, but was able to stabilize.
Alessa stood fast in front of Ominis and she hugged him at the same time she snorted in relief “Ominis! Thank you so much for getting rid of him”. She breathed deeply on the back of his neck, a fresh woody fragrance flooded Alessa's lungs. Ominis relaxed the gesture and, with a warm grin, he hugged her back, “I’m glad I arrived on time. I’ve listened to a group of students whispering about a certain James from the Quidditch team, they had bet that he would get a kiss from the savior of Hogwarts” his last words were spoken with aversion, “That’s why I stopped my reading and headed back here because it was obvious they were talking about you. Are you alright?”. Alessa's heart began to beat very fast, she moved away from the hug, leaving her hands resting on Ominis' shoulders. “I am now. Do you remember what you’ve just said to me after the exam? We’re even”. She leaned towards him and gave him a timid fleeting kiss on the cheek that she would regret due to the shame it would cause her instantly, but she couldn't help it, it came from her soul.
*********
Sebastian finally recovered his notebook from Peeves. He was crossing at forced marches The Transfiguration Courtyard when he caught sight of Ominis being kissed by a girl out of the corner of his eye. She was standing on tiptoes because she was a little shorter than him. Sebastian remained still to the spot “Since when does Ominis let himself be kissed under the mistletoe? This is new” he thought. Tempted to find out who the girl was so he could pester him for the rest of the year about what he had just witnessed, he approached them to see who she was. His mischievous countenance went somber when he took a few steps and realized it was Alessa. HIS Alessa.
Everything began to spin, he began to imagine Alessa and Ominis kissing passionately with their hands exploring each other's bodies like savages, holding hands under the table, while he stood by with the potions, and a succession of creative scenes that made his heart shatter. His hands froze and began to sweat, his ears burned and he began to spin on the spot, raising his fists and throwing them down hard to vent his frustration.
Alessa and Ominis took their respectives paths, she entered the class and Ominis headed towards the Central Hall again. Neither of them noticed that Sebastian was there, cursing himself for not having the courage to say anything to Alessa earlier. What does Ominis have that he doesn't?. As if he had lost all energy, he reminded himself "He's not a murderer like me." Completely defeated, he walked into class with his head bowed, avoiding looking at or engaging in conversation with Alessa at all times.
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If you read it, I just want to thank you!! I'm looking forward to know your feedback if you like :)
I'm also in Wattpad and Ao3: @AntaresGalaeth
(también en español)
#hogwarts legacy ominis#ominis x oc#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy mc#ominis gaunt#hogwarts fanfiction#sebastian sallow x oc
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Count the days where I felt whole
This is my first time writing literally anything lmao, I'm editing and posting stuff semi-consistently. If u take some time to read this, thank you!
(https://archiveofourown.org/works/53395966/chapters/135145096)
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Starts shortly before the Ceroba fight in true pacifist.
As Clover is haunted by fragments of past resets as he goes through the underground. He's been able to push forward so far, but when he's betrayed by the only person who hasn't killed him yet, will he finally snap? Ceroba has been planning this moment for a while now, and although she's gotten a bit attached to her human companion, she knows what she has to do. But in the end, will she stop herself from repeating past mistakes, or will she follow through? Cringe description, ik, but what I'm putting here isn't super long, and I have more planned, so if you stop to read this at all I'd be over the moon!
As I said before, this is still mostly WIP, the story isn't going to change, but I'm trying to improve, any and all constructive criticism is welcome (please, I need feedback)
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Since falling down, Clover’s original purpose of finding the fallen children had slowly faded to the background. He wasn’t stupid, he was able to quickly figure out rather quickly that the missing humans were long dead. With nowhere to go back to, and his purpose gone, for a while, Clover just decided to allow Flowey to drive him forward. He knew Flowey was lying to him, but the flower clearly needed Clover for something, and that was reason enough for him.
He learned early on that almost every encounter started with a fight. Clover was able to peacefully resolve each run-in with some fast footwork and quick thinking. The battles were even a bit entertaining in their own way, and it never felt like there was any real malice directed towards him.
However, the monsters he encountered didn’t seem to register the fact that his body was fragile. He didn’t blame them, most of them probably had no idea how weak human children were. But, as he made his way through the Dark Ruins, it became more and more difficult for him to emerge unscathed. He figured out that he could heal himself with food after an encounter in Snowdin, where a crab monster had pinched his arm hard enough to pierce skin; and since then his supply of items had started to dwindle.
The first peaceful interaction he had with any monster, aside from Toriel, was at the Snowdin Resort. Most of the monsters had never even seen a human, and those that had were simply curious. The more he talked with them, the more he realized that the monsters had been trapped down here unfairly, unjustly. He saw it in their eyes, a buried despair that was only barely covered by a facade of optimism. Most of them had nothing to do with the war, let alone the fallen children; so why had they been left down here to rot? Finally he had real purpose, something worth working towards no matter how vague and impossible the task seemed.
He pressed on, doing his best to shoulder a portion of their burden so that he could give them a fraction of the happiness they had been robbed of. So that he wouldn’t be forgotten.
The first time he died was during what he thought was his first encounter with Martlet. During his battle with the blue bird monster, a feather had gotten dangerously close to his soul. He blinked, and for a split second he saw the feather he had just dodged pierce clean through his left arm, causing him to fall to his knees in pain. While he was preoccupied with the unexpected wound, another feather slammed through his forehead, snapping him back to the present, blinking away tears at the sudden phantom pain.
Afterwards the visions became more prevalent, MUCH more prevalent. Every encounter brought with it a near constant onslaught of memories that Clover forced himself to ignore.
I've only gotten this far because of it right? Without this pain I wouldn't have been able to accomplish anything, without this curse I wouldn’t be useful to anyone.
Besides, he could take it, he had to.
He tried to convince himself that Starlo, Martlet, and the others hadn’t meant to kill him in those memories. It was just his fault for being incompetent, he was doing enough that they didn't want him dead. Right?
As much as he desperately wanted to open up to his new companions, being with them only caused him to spiral deeper into the pit of doubt he had dug.
The only exception was Ceroba. She may not have been the most compassionate monster, but Clover felt an odd type of assurance when he was with her. He sympathized with her quest to obtain justice for her daughter Kanako, and without her he would have died, or at least died more than he already had, attempting to navigate the Steamworks.
However, the biggest reason Clover felt at ease with Ceroba wasn’t because of what she had done, but because of what she hadn’t. When he was with her, he didn’t have to worry about having memories of false death's flash before his eyes.
She was calm, collected, and for some reason cared about him enough to protect him during their journey together. After she began to open up more about her daughter, Clover found himself wishing he had a parent like her to protect him, to make him feel worth something.
Clover knew good things never lasted forever, but was it really too much to hope that she could care for someone like him?
______________________________________________________________________
Pink leaves floated slowly through the air, pushed steadily to the ground by the whispering wind. Clover stands up to face Ceroba, stopping only to quickly glance at the prone forms of Martlet and Starlo. Ceroba stared down at him, eyes filled with a dark determination.
“Clover… I… I'm sorry for what I've done.”, Ceroba’s voice sounded almost uncertain now, a stark contrast to the anger and conviction moments prior, “I almost wish you never showed up in the Wild East. Maybe then I could've continued to bury my sorrows in the Saloon.”
Clover's gaze was locked onto the Kitsune, one of the few people he thought he could consider safe.
“But now... I must follow through with my mission. I've somehow grown to respect the hell out of you but… At the end of the day, you're naive. There is so much you don't understand about monsters. What, did you think you'd jump down here and find them? Five humans, living out their lives, unharmed… That isn't how it works.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Clover whispered, he may be a child, but he wasn’t stupid.
Ceroba continued, “Then what? Was your plan to plead for a free ticket back to the Surface? He only needs two more SOULS to shatter the barrier. Wouldn't hesitate for a SECOND to make that one. But who am I to criticize how he carries out business?”
Her head jerked back and a tense laugh escaped her mouth, “Here I am about to do the very same thing I am a hypocrite. I am no better than Asgore on a scale of morality, I'm sure of it. But what I am, is proactive. Truthfully… I have nothing left in life, so I've made peace with throwing it away.” At this, some of the tension drains from Ceroba’s face, but only for a moment as she locks eyes with Clover.
“Nothing left? You had Starlo! You had the gang, the town!” Clover screamed.
You had me.
But it was clear that Ceroba wasn’t listening anymore.
“You'll fight back, but you can't forever. Goodbye.”
Clover gripped the handle of his toy gun as he prepared to draw. He thought back to his battles with Starlo, Martlet, the Feisty Five… Even if the resets had taken a toll on him, he truly believed that they didn’t want him dead, that they cared.
Now, he was facing down the one person who seemed to realize that he was a child, someone who had helped him without killing him; and now she wanted him dead.
Ceroba twirled her tasseled staff through the air and Clover yanked his gun out of its holster. His soul appeared, and the small rooftop faded to monochrome… and for the first time in Ceroba’s presence, his vision went black.
In the memory, a ball of beautiful crimson flame burst from the ground behind him, striking through his chest and killing him instantly. Clover braced himself for the phantom pain that usually accompanied each vision, only to scream out as his entire body burned with the heat of a flame that wasn’t there.
His vision flashed black again, this time he was hit from the front, another flash, from the sky this time. Body and eyes alight in agony, another scream tore itself from his mouth as countless visions, countless deaths piled on top of each other. Clover stared up at Ceroba with wide eyes, panting with exertion even though the fight hadn’t even begun.
Tipping the brim of his hat down so it covered his eyes, Clover realized that this wasn’t a fight he could win by deescalating, this was a duel for survival, and Ceroba wanted him dead.
#uty clover#ut yellow#uty#undertale yellow clover#ceroba#ao3 fanfic#tw death#first post#sorry for so many tags#am i doing this tag thing right?#ceroba ketsukane#undertale yellow#fanfic#ao3 writer#ao3 link#archive of our own#starlo#starlo uty#undertale yellow starlo#clover undertale yellow#clover uty#uty fanfic#undertale yellow fanfic#undertale fanfiction#uty ceroba#ceroba uty#ceroba undertale yellow
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Morpheus x Male Reader short fic anyone?
Hello! :D
Just wanted to let you know, that recently I've been working on a short Morpheus x Male Reader fic!
It will have like a couple of chapters, I'm currently unable to tell how many there will be, but I believe that around 6-8.
Right now I have written 3 chapters, later on today (It's currently 1 Am for me 😅) I'll be writing the 4th one and a 5th one I'll be writing during the next week, since I have quite a few things planned and I won't have time to write anything (Or clear mind to focus on the subject 🤫). But I'll try to get to back to writing as fast as I can when I get back!
I will be posting one chapter every friday until I ran out of chapters to post 😅 This friday I will a Prologue, but right now I will tell you a little something about the fic!
First of all: It's inspired by a fic written by @xmalereader whose every fanfic is like a little miracle in my head and I love all of them 🙏💋 The fanfic that inspired me is "Lord Morpheus X Male Reader X Winchester Brothers"! It was so good that I genuinely felt the need to read more and decided: Hell, why not make my own?!
Second of all: If you see a mistake, please notify me of it! Every constructive criticism, anything that will help me evolve and do better in writing is honestly very much welcome and don't be shy to call me out if something doesn't make sense in a sentence! Since English is not my first language, mistakes definitely will happen, that's why I'd prefer someone to just tell me what I did wrong so I could correct it.
And now let's just get to an introduction!
There's drama!
There's romance!
There's some gore!
There's angst! (Even though I'm not the best at writing it and I don't really like it if it doesn't have a happy ending, damn my soft self)
And there are some questions that might never get answers!
But what is for certain is the fact that there are still some feelings between you and a certain Dream Lord present after all of your history together. Of course it wouldn't be this easy though! Not when a specific Nightmare is on the loose, wreaking havoc upon the Waking World and a trio of men, that often get kicked in the ass by fate, decided to hunt for it, mistaking it for a some type of monster!
Yes, yes, they're literally like children in the fog in this situation. Simply saying: Screwed. But don't worry, because you, yes YOU, my dear reader, accompanied by the King of Dreams and Nightmares are going to save their asses!
Let me show you now some mood Boards for this fanficfion! Every mood board has two versions!
I hope you're as excited for this fanficfion as I am, my dear reader!
Until we meet again!
Yours,
Nikolas~
#morpheus x male reader#morpheus x you#dream of the endless x male reader#the sandman#the sandman x male reader#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel novak#spn#fanfiction#fanfic writing#dream of the endless#morpheus
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Fanfic Disclaimer: If you don't like it, please don't read it.
After writing and working fanfics continuously now on a daily basis for almost two years now, unfortunately it seems like making this post now is sadly unavoidable. 🫤 I feel the need to finally mention the disclaimer I'm putting on all my fics/work now due to a constant pattern of anon hate, insults, de*th threats and unwanted "constructive" criticism on my work.
I can't stress enough: if you don't like a fanfic for any reason whatsoever, you don't have to read it! You really don't. Nobody's making you read anything you don't want to and you're not a bad guy if you put it down the first paragraph in or five chapters in. Another thing you don't need to do at all whatsoever is send hate comments/asks, or tell fic authors they're writing is shit and their fic is too. Unwarranted, rude and hateful comments only make you look like the awful person, not someone with a "different opinion". 😕
This exact kind of disgusting behavior is a huge cause of why many fanfic authors delete all of their works, stop posting, and stop writing. I ignored it for some time myself but seeing that it's clearly going to continue periodically and not stop, I'm addressing it all in this post.
From the past almost 2 years since I've been writing Moth to Flame, I've been repeatedly a target of this behavior/bullying up to the point where it's evolved to anon hate/blogs that I've blocked changing locations to send me asks, sending me and my fics hate while making new blogs to interact with me, actively reading my fics and writing hate comments on them, and interacting with my blog while continuing to send me hate over a fanfic. 😶 What it's evolved to is downright ridiculous and insane and I am no longer entertaining it in any way, shape or form whether it comes on AO3 comment sections or here.
I'm not going anywhere. I'm never going to stop writing fics or my original work. Writing is my hobby, my passion, one of my favourite things to do and this hasn't changed for 16 years and it never will. I'm not going to delete my fics/works for anyone or anything and that includes anon hate and every nasty message inbetween. I'm here to stay, and nobody is obligated to read my fics or even interact with my blog so please, if you don't like me, my writing and anything regarding it from the style to the characters' personalities and down to the plot, unfollow me. Block me. Please don't interact with me in any way if you don't like me/my writing for whatever reason.
My welcome onto Tumblr after beginning to post the first few chapters of Moth to Flame was anon hate and nasty messages. Because of a fanfic, I've been told to "stop writing it because it discourages other fanfic authors" due to Moth to Flame's soaring popularity, that I have "ego problems" from accepting and being grateful for feedback and compliments, that I "think I'm better than every other fanfic writer" because I'm confident and comfortable with my writing style and skill and refuse to insult myself or downplay my own talent in some way, that I have a monopoly on Michael Corleone x Reader fics and that I supposedly think "nobody else can write good Michael Corleone x Reader fics". ??? None of these are remotely true at all. ☹️
Since then, I've had growing suspicions this kind of bullying and behaviour was coming exclusively from The Godfather fandom and unfortunately, I was right. 🫤 Being in many fandoms for long periods of time on and on for years, The Godfather fandom is the first fandom I've ever been in where I've seen blogs group up and gang up on other blogs to send anon hate/make nasty posts about them, have someone tell me to k*ll myself over a fanfic, encourage other blogs/users to individually send hate (over anything, ships, headcanons, etc.), make new blogs to send hate and to follow/stalk from and so much more disgusting, awful behavior.
It got all the more concerning when I had friends and mutuals telling me they're distancing themselves from The Godfather fandom and choosing to have nothing to do with it or follow anyone from it. I've had beloved mutuals and friends deactivate their blogs over witnessing this behaviour in the fandom. 💔
Over a fanfic, I've had anon hate telling me I'm a misogynist/hate women because Moth to Flame is based in the late 1940s/1950s, that Victoria has "too many children", that there's "too much smut" in a SMUT fic, that Victoria "isn't shy enough" (just to name a few) and users telling me how I should write my own fanfic and my portray my own characters differently because they don't like how the plot went or how the character acted. These are no longer bits of "constructive" criticism, but condescending insults coming from individuals who clearly don't like my fics or my writing, but refuse to stop reading them, refuse to stop interacting with me and continue to send more anon asks and anon AO3 comments.
I believe that one of the many great things about second person perspectives in writing/fanfics is that you get to step into a new world and experience the plot with or as the character. This doesn't mean the character is going to be 100% like you and it's not my intention or wish to do that or change my characters entirely so someone likes them better either.
I'm all for difference of opinion and love the unique ways my readers enjoy my works and react to them. 🥰 I've received many intriguing comments/feedback on my fics where readers were shocked by a plot twist or didn't expect a character to behave a certain way, even that to them the characters weren't good people, etc, or have asked questions about why something happened the way it did or why a character is the way they are. I've always been happy to answer and been more than okay with welcoming all opinions and comments on my fic so as long as they are kind.
I'm not accepting any type of comments/submissions/asks of the sort received containing "constructive criticism" of any kind over a fanfic, telling me how to write/portray my characters, telling me to alter/change the plot, etc.
I'm very happy to block, report, rinse and repeat whether it be here or on AO3. I've met some amazing people from The Godfather fandom on here and made the best of friends with many, but to ignore the toxicity here is to ignore the obvious. This isn't okay. Please for the love of God, read fanfiction you enjoy and interact with blogs you enjoy, not the opposite.
I will always love and welcome thoughtful and kind comments/feedback on my fics but I'm not going to stop writing my fics, I'm not going to change my characters or alter the plots because someone doesn't like them.
To my beloved readers, followers and mutuals who love and support my writing and fics: thank you. ❤️ I'm forever and always grateful for every bit of your appreciation and feedback. Thank you so much for everything. I can't wait to write more fics and share my writing with you guys!
If you don't like it, please don't read it and please don't send hate over it to any fanfic writers and to their fics.
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