#even though it's pure nightmare fuel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shapard · 2 months

Text

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Michael is an Asshole

Near death experience

An Angel cries

Chapter 3 < Chapter 4 > Chapter 5

Lucifer was on edge.

What is Michael doing here?

Why Michael of all? The one that hates him more than anything.

Michael was standing in his home destroying the peace Charlie and you had.

The peace you enjoyed so much that he wanted to keep.

For the sake of you two.

His inner demon wanted to rip Michael limp from limp.

Its craving to use Michael’s blood to paint the town in pure gold with his blood.

Lucifers feather rustle out of anger.

“You would never pay me a visit Michael. We both know that.” After all it was his Fault.

Michael and Gabriel gave him the Idea to begin with.

And in the end they were the one who let him fall into this personal nightmare.

In hell.

Lucifer almost lost his life because of them.

Meanwhile confusing was written all over your face.

Brother?

Michael? The Arch angel?

Your brain was working on overload.

Slowly it started to click. You completely dismissed the thought that Lucifer is an arch Angel.

An offspring from God himself.

The Soulmate bond let you feel Lucifers rage, and his urge to protect you and his daughter.

It pushes you to stay put and to have faith in him.

Lucifer was still in a protecting pose to protect you.

He didn’t even realize when he was in front of you.

In a blink of an eye, he saw himself protecting you with his wings. Making them larger and covering you.

What was wrong with him?

Was it because you grew close in these last days, or was there more?

Has he caught feelings for you?

It made sense. Common logic.

His train of thoughts were Interrupted by Michaels speech.

“You’re clever as ever. But I do have to disappoint you. I’m not here for you, but rather for that seraphim behind you.” Michael’s gaze moved from Lucifer towards you.

His pure blue eyes bored into you, you felt almost naked under his stare.

You fiddled with the hem of your dress hoping it will help with your anxiety that started to build up in your system.

You heard an animalistic growl coming from Lucifer.

“You better get the fuck away Michael.”

It is terrifying. Lucifer is terrifying. You should be scared, but you aren’t.

You found this utterly attractive.

Lucifers horns were showing in all their might and all you could do was looking at them in awe.

Michael was still staring at you, Ignoring Lucifers threat.

It fueled Lucifers Anger even more, the lights started to flicker in the hotel.

Sweat pearled down from Charlie’s face.

She’s never seen her father that pissed before. Not even with Alastor nor Adam.

His eyes showing nothing but crimson red. But he remained calm in front of his older Brother.

It would’ve scared Michael if he was a mere lower-class Angel or a demon in Hell.

But he was the Arch Angel Michael, nothing scared him except his father God and Gabriel.

He started to smirk showing his pearl white teeth, and it settled off you.

Lucifer and Michael looked so similar, same hairstyle, same face.

There was a huge difference between these two though. Michael was cold, his aura was dark and with nothing but anger and Ignorance.

Meanwhile Lucifers Aura was warm, like a hot bath that was pure relaxation. His aura was white and pure.

Maybe it was the bond. But you see a foul soul when there's one.

But one thing they had in common, and that's their pride.

You don’t have a good feeling about this.

He wants something, but what?

What can be so special in here that an Arch Angel comes down here and confronts his brother?

What makes you so special that Michael would come down here?

Michael's predatory gaze was following your every movement making you want to run or plead for your life.

Lucifer widened his wings shielding you from the other Arch Angel.

You sigh in relief; you don’t want to spend any second longer with Michael's stare.

Not with the way he was looking at you.

Like a treat he could eat for breakfast.

“You should leave.” Lucifer’s eyes never left Michael’s.

All what he did was starting to laugh at Lucifer, “Aww, Little Lucifer protecting a fallen Angel How cute.”

In the next moment Michaels wings spread and he flapped them to create a hurricane like wind blow.

Wind blew softly in your face, Lucifers wings helped that you didn’t fly away from the force.

With a crash Nifty flew into the alcohol bar, leaving a mess with broken bottles. Husk frowned, “Oh great.”

The whole crew hid behind the staircase to take cover from the Arch Angel.

Michael whistled. “You seem to grow a liking towards that girl.” He pointed at him then at you, “what happened with Lilith? Cheating on her?” Lucifer gritted his teeth and took a step forward.

He wants to crush Michael skull on this hellish floor. Drawing an abstract painting in pure Gold on a red canvas.

“That’s none of your business.” Michael gasps at him, holding his mouth with his hand. Acting all shocked.

You could swear Lucifer was ready to bounce on him.

His devil tail flicked dangerously from side to side.

That’s what Michaels want.

He wants to see Lucifer loses control and letting his guard down.

He wants to piss his little Brother off. And Lucifer fell for it. His pride is taking over not thinking correctly.

Your feet carried you towards Lucifer, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. “Luci, don’t. That’s what he wants.”

He didn’t look your way but stopped in his track.

This disappointed Michael.

Deep.

Usually this works, it always worked. Why not now?

He came here to have fun with you and Lucifer, but you ruined it for him.

“You are listening now to a random bitch?”

This was the last straw for Lucifer. No one talks to you like that.

Lucifer flew up to get more speed when he flew back down to kick Michael in the stomach. That send Michael flying towards the nearest house.

Leaving nothing but ruins from the building.

Coughing he looked where Lucifer was, nowhere to be seen.

Confused he threw stones in every direction trying to hit Lucifer.

Lucifer laughed at this useless attempt. “That’s what you’re doing now? Throwing stones? Who's the Bitch now?”

His heart started to race out of fear.

He whipped his head frantic searching for his enemy.

A howling laugh vibrated through hell and a crash followed it.

Lucifer punched Michael hard into the floor letting Michael see black for a minute.

The earth shook under the force making you slump down at the sudden ground movement.

Michael spit out one of his Paper white teeth, it was covered in golden blood.

Michael realized that Lucifer got stronger and could easily get rid of him.

But that can’t be true, that’s not fair.

“Fuck.” He screamed as he heard Lucifers laugh from joy.

Michael panicked; he still couldn’t see Lucifer anywhere.

He was scared to death.

Sweat covered his injured now dirty white skin. His golden head piece had a slight crack in it.

How can I get away from here?

Then he remembers.

you.

You were his compass right now and Michael can use you.

Use you to cause mental damage to Lucifer.

Lucifer stepped out of the dark, stalking slowly forward like a predator to their prey.

Michael crawled back. His hand slipped on a small rock making him fall on his back.

Lucifer took the opportunity and charged forward. Michael dodged his attack just in time, flying towards your direction in 200km/h.

Searching for Lucifer in the distance, you saw someone flying towards you.

Your eyes widen in excitement, thinking it is Lucifer.

You walked slowly towards him, only to see that this is not your Lucifer.

This Aura, so dark and it was scary.

It was Michael.

You started to run to the opposite direction, you knew he would catch you easily if he wants to.

But you won’t give up without a fight.

Michael’s hair was all a mess, he looked like a maniac who lost control.

Blood all over his white attire and dirt all over him.

He grabbed your wrist lifting you up in the air.

You screamed, kicking your feet all around you.

For the first time in decades, you seem scared of heights.

Not having wings comes with fear from heights. Not being available to fly when you fell. Getting crushed by gravity wasn’t exactly how you planned on dying.

Your scream was quickly caught the attention from Lucifer, out of panic he teleported his way to you.

His tail swayed dangerous from side to side as he looked at the disgusting mutt of a brother holding you up with your wrist.

Pain and fear were written all over your demeanor and for the first time in this battle he felt scared.

Scared that he’ll do something to you.

Scared that if he interferes, you’ll die.

Michael Shaked you a bit to piss off Lucifer more. As if you were a mere piece of meat laid on display in an auction house.

Meanwhile he swung you around your sleeve of your dress slipped down revealing the apple mark on your wrist.

As fast as you could, you tried to pull the sleeve back up, but Michael stopped you.

Michael raised an eyebrow at you, what was your plan?

He took a glance at the thing you tried to hide, and oh did he never forget that mark.

You share the same mark like him.

Like Lucifer.

“Really? That’s all the fuss why you’re doing all of this?” You looked away in shame.

Michael was to say at least very confused. You were ashamed of being Lucifers soulmate? He would be too, but you clearly enjoy his presence way too much to hate this.

Then it clicks, “Ohhh, he doesn’t even know.” You bitt your lip, showing Michael that his speculation was Indeed right.

Lucifer was standing there at his friendlier form, observing the scenery above him.

He doesn’t know what?

You knew this would happen at one point.

You hid it very well the couple days, even though your heart was aching for that man. To tell him the truth.

But you were afraid. Will he reject you? Or does he even enjoy your presence, when he finds out the soulmate bond makes him feel that.

Michael pulled you in front of his face, you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“You’re not better than your mother. To keep a secret that huge and so small,” His hand stroked your mark, it started to burn in your wrist making you scream in terror.

It felt like someone was burning a piece of iron into your cold skin making your blood underneath boil.

You felt hot and lightheaded.

You wiggled your whole body, trying to get out of Michaels grasp.

The tears that fell out of your eye collides on Lucifers face; his clawed fist clenched hard the claws shoving into his palm drawing blood.

Michael ripped a piece off your long-sleeved dress showing your mark towards Lucifer.

Lucifers eyes widen, no that couldn’t be.

He searched in your eyes the answer, but you looked away, ashamed.

And it hurts him. Why didn’t you tell him?

He unconsciously rubbed his mark on his wrist which started to itch since Michael touched yours.

Now everything made sense for him.

Why he felt that kind of euphoric, why he felt so in love. Why his heart ached for you every time you’re not there.

That’s why he was so attracted to you.

And you lied to him. God knows how long.

He is mad at you, but he won’t lose you out of his anger.

You were his last chance, his nemesis.

He must get rid of Michael before he can deal with you.

Meanwhile you struggled in Michael death grip on your wrist. Your hand felt numb with no blood getting pumped in it.

“I can’t kill you Y/n. But I can cause you pain which will hurt him even more.” His eyes shifted towards Lucifer smiling from ear to ear.

His laugh that rippled through his ribcage made you cringe.

His hands let you fall out of his grip. Before you could relax, thinking he would let you go. He grabbed your hair making you wince.

He pulled out a little dagger and pressed it against your neck. “Let’s see if your blood is still golden.”

Lucifer flew as fast as he could towards you stretching his arm towards Michael and you. Michaels words echoing in Lucifers brain. Let’s see if your blood is still golden.

But it was too late.

His knife slashed a cut on your neck, golden blood started to gush out and you started to choke on your own blood.

“No!”

It was hard to breath, every time you tried to take the oxygen in your lungs, blood filled them which made you cough and choke every time.

Michael let you go, disgusted that your blood spilled on his cloths.

He removed his golden strand out of his face smiling widely at Lucifer.

“Next time I make sure to you two will never see each other. Farewell.” With that he teleported away leaving a mess in hell behind him.

Lucifer punched into the cement where Michael was standing.

His heart stopped when he heard you choking from your own blood.

Ache

Rushing to your side he pressed on your wound tight. “Please, please don’t die.”

All you could feel was pain, and the warmth of Lucifer by your side.

And there it was again, the warmth of his powers flowing into your system.

it was calming. Making you almost forget the pain you’re in.

Lucifer was on the edge of crying.

Forgetting that you didn’t tell him that you were his soulmate.

All he could think about is that you were slowly dying.

He feels useless.

Charlie watched the scene, feeling bad for her dad.

He told her that he has a soulmate, someone who is his other half.

But since he fell, he’d never see them.

It was sad to see his depressed expression when he thought about it.

But now he found out in the middle of the battlefield that he found her. And now he may lose someone precious. His other half. The reason he still had faith.

She looks at her father saying a mantra all over and over again.

Please don’t die, please, please Y/n don’t leave me. Please.

He felt alone like he did when Lilith left him, but this is not the same.

You’ll never come back. Leaving him with an empty void in his heart that cannot be filled.

He survived the void that Lilith left in him.

But not you, his soulmate that helped him without even knowing.

Every night he thought of you. Not even in a sexual way.

He held the duck he made for you tight to his body to feel comforted in some kind of way.

And it all makes sense. But it may be too late.

Here you were, slowly dying in his hands. Passed out from your blood lost.

His tears dropped down on your lips making you feel the salty sweet substance.

An Angel cries.

Your neck wound started to close making him sigh in relief.

you have lost a lot of blood, and it was still life threatening but the bleeding was stopped.

You have a chance to survive this.

He stroked your cheek softly removing the dirt that was on your face.

He pressed his forehead on yours in a comforting way.

“Please wake up.”

A/n: 👀 Soooo, how y'all doing? Thank you to all who are writing so sweet comments<3

Hope you enjoyed this chapter❤️

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgates-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift

#y/n #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbinhotel #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #female reader #angel #michael hazbin hotel #shapard

652 notes · View notes

starrylothcat · 1 year

Text

Release

🔥NSFW🔥Wolffe x Fem!JediReader One-Shot

Summary: You and Commander Wolffe share an intimate moment. 1400 words.

Warnings: NSFW 18+. Minors DNI. Pure smut, with feelings.

Author’s Note: I love Wolffe. I love soft Wolffe. That is all. Please enjoy and drop me a line!

Right now, you weren’t in control, and you loved it. Wolffe had you practically bent in half on the edge of the bed, your knees thrown above his shoulders as he relentlessly struck a deeper and deeper part of you with every roll of his hips. Tears pricked at the sides of your eyes from the intensity, your mind completely clouded with desire, with him. You watched as his usual stoic facade crumbled, his good eye locked with yours as you both climbed closer to release. His large, warm hands grasped at your legs, his thrusts becoming more uncontrolled with every cry of his name that left your swollen lips.

On the battlefield you were powerful, decisive, The General. The responsibility of being a Jedi laid so heavy on your soul, you took these moments when you could forget, just for a little bit, whenever you could. In these minutes with Wolffe, you were just you. He was just him. You weren’t Commander and General. You weren’t at war, your lives at risk every single second of every single day. You could indulge in what you weren’t allowed to have, but maybe could if the circumstances were different.

Wolffe knew he wouldn’t last much longer as he watched you begin to completely fall apart beneath him, something only he could do to you, something only he had the privilege. Seeing his General splayed out, completely and utterly vulnerable, offering yourself to him without hesitation, made him crave you even more. It also made those screaming thoughts in his head that this was wrong, against every regulation he could think of, a little quieter.

Wolffe lowered your legs from his shoulders, pressing his torso down on to yours as your ankles locked around his waist, instinctually bringing him as close as possible to you. His forearms caged your head, every muscle in his body quivering, his cock driving deeper still in to you, causing you to see stars. You cried out and grasped his shoulders, your body writhing beneath his.

Wolffe brought his lips to your ear, hoarsely whispering how beautiful you were like this, telling you to let go, that he had you. How you were his, and no one else’s. Your breasts and thighs had already been thoroughly marked by his teeth, driving home the fact that you were indeed his and only he made you feel this way.

You nodded, barely forming thoughts as he brought one of his large, calloused hands down to your pelvis and began rubbing a thick finger deliciously against your clit, your body on the verge of imploding.

At any time you could easily overpower him, but you never did. You let him take charge, giving him some semblance of control in these moments, whereas in the battlefield there were none. He could lose you at any second, his worst nightmare was not being able to protect you, failing at his duty as Commander, even though he knew you didn’t need his protection.

But at least right now he could have you, care for you in the only way he knew how. Help release the burdens you both carried.

Wolffe let out his own guttural moan as your nails dug in to his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Your back arched off the bed as you got closer to your release, his practiced finger working magic on your swollen clit. Wolffe was getting close too, your unbelievably hot and tight cunt trembling around his cock. He couldn’t help but stare at you, your cheeks flushed and your hair coming undone, sweat dripping down the side of your head from the exertion, your lips parted as more cries left your throat. You sometimes had the same look in the heat of battle, the look that originally fueled his desire for you. It was never enough, though. He constantly wanted more.

Wolffe brought his head down to yours, biting down in to the flesh of your neck as another whine was ripped from your throat. “Wolffe, I’m so close…please…”

“Cum for me, mesh’la. ” Wolffe’s words were slurred against your neck, his eyes now squeezed shut at the building sensation in his lower abdomen. “Look at me, I want you to look at me when you cum, that’s an order from your Commander.” Wolffe was begging now, he had to see your face. He had to see how he made you feel, it had to be worth it, all the secrecy and sneaking around, not fully knowing where this relationship might go or how long it would last, or even could.

Finally, with a final tight circle of his finger, your orgasm violently crashed over you. You could barely keep your eyes open as you grasped at his cropped hair, your body completely coming undone as his strong thrusts coursed intense pleasure throughout your body. You choked out his name over and over, your head thrown back against the pillow in ecstasy.

Wolffe’s dark eye didn’t leave your face, your exploding orgasm causing your core to clench around him. The rush of your juices and your incoherent words caused his thrusts to become erratic as his own powerful orgasm suddenly rushed through his body.

Wolffe let out a growling, gasping moan of your name, his hips not slowing down as he continued to watch your face intently, savoring every sensation, every subtle movement of your lips, your eyelids fluttering as your eyes rolled back in to your head.

You weren’t his General. He wasn’t your Commander. You were everything he wasn’t supposed to have and didn't deserve. Wolffe was a smart man, and he knew this was more than just carnal pleasure. You understood him more than anyone ever had. You were an anchor, a shining beacon that kept him grounded. Your smile, your touch, your power. You trusted him, saw him as an equal. He loved you.

After one final press of his hips, Wolffe collapsed on your body, touching his forehead to yours, trying to find his breath as he slowly pulled out of you. Your chests heaved together as you reveled in each other’s presence. You both knew you couldn’t stay like this much longer but were savoring every second.

The moment you both left your personal quarters the masks would be put back on, the Jedi General and the gruff Commander, proud to serve the Republic, and nothing more.

Your breathing began to return to normal and you let out a satisfied sigh, bringing a hand up to his face, gently tracing his scar. You ghosted over his cybernetic eye, continuing down the side of his devastatingly handsome face. He leaned in to your touch, as you looked at him with what he could only presume as love. That secret word that you have not said out loud, but hung heavy on both your tongues after every intimate encounter. Something that you and Wolffe assumed would always be out of reach, his life completely dedicated to the Republic and yours to the Jedi Code. But that changed. You opened him up to the possibility of more than just being bred for war. He opened you up to the possibility of non-selfish attachment, realizing you needed him as much as he needed you. Wolffe wanted to finally say it, but instead brought his lips to yours in a kiss so tender you felt your heart ache. You were the only one who got to see him like this, the gruff Commander absolutely at your mercy. Wolffe did everything with purpose, and you didn’t mistake what he was trying to tell you.

I love you.

You cradled his face in your hands, kissing him back with the same gentleness he was showing you, hoping he’d understand.

I will always love you. I will always protect you. I will always be yours.

The urgent beeping of your comlink cut through the heavy silence of the intimate moment, lost somewhere in the jumble of robes and armor thrown carelessly by the door of your quarters. Your time was up. Wolffe pulled away from you, his face searching yours, still on top of you. “We have to go, Wolffe.” Your voice was shaking. “They are expecting us at the debrief.” Wolffe grunted, wanting to say something, to acknowledge the moment you had just shared, to say hell with the debrief. Your comlink beeped again, something you couldn’t ignore a second time, and he knew it. It was time to become General and Commander again, you couldn’t escape your fates. Wolffe rolled off of you, and you both dressed slowly, not ready to once again put on your professional guise, not wanting your time together to be over.

You clasped your belt, hooking your lightsaber to your side and adjusted your robes as Wolffe tucked his helmet under his arm. His serious and composed demeanor returning, but you could tell he was hesitating, staring at you with intensity, sensing he wanted to say something. You were about to ask what was wrong, but Wolffe suddenly reached for your forearm, yanking you back in to him, his helmet clattering to the floor. Wolffe growled and grasped the sides of your face, bringing you in for a desperate kiss. His lips moved fervently against yours as he finally uttered the forbidden words that had been burning a hole in his chest since you first invited him to your quarters, giving yourself to him.

I love you.

Your heart soared as you urgently whispered it back with ease, feeling lighter with every admission as his lips continued to devour yours, holding on to him so tightly you thought you might crack his plastoid armor. Everything but him faded away. He was giving his heart, his life to you. It was all he had to offer. You gasped the words again and again over his lips, letting him know there was no question in your mind about him, about what you had.

Wolffe pulled his lips from yours, letting you both breathe, not wanting this to end when it was seemingly just beginning. But it had to, at least for now. Duty called, as it always had and always will. His heart was pounding out of his armor. You looked at him, so lovingly and radiant he was once again at a loss for words, feeling as if he didn’t deserve this. But there you were, admitting the same long-hidden feelings that have been growing under the surface ever since you joined his squad.

Wolffe stepped back and let his hands fall from your face, one finger brushing over your lips as he did so, a promise for later. Nothing in this Galaxy was certain. But you were. And that’s all he needed.

Author’s Note: Never ending thanks to @wanderer-six for beta reading and being feral over this man with me 😚

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #the clone wars fanfiction #Star Wars tcw #star wars tcw fanfiction #the clone wars #commander wolffe #starrycatwrites

549 notes · View notes

bipp-bopp-time-to-stop · 2 months

Text

A Collection of Obsession

I'll admit that it was my own procrastination this time around that stopped me from posting this sooner. But it's done now and at the time of posting this I have less than twenty minutes until I leave for work so I am rushing. This piece is not as thoroughly proofread as my others so far and I wanted to try something different (meaning that I didn't want to write a torture scene). Instead, y'all get to enjoy Legend being an absolute little creepy bastard man.

TW: Lots of suggestive stuff but nothing explicitly stated, yandere themes, brief mentions of blood, I want to put a restraining order on Legend after writing this

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“If I may bring your attention over here, dear customer, I think you’ll find that these wares are more to your liking. Take this copper and quartz bracelet, for example! Though it may not glimmer like gems and gold or match well with any gowns or suits, it serves its purpose in a more practical way than fashionable. Here- touch it! Yes… yes, you feel that? It’s a spell of protection! And a potent one at that! You see, copper and quartz are great choices for enchantments as they…”

Though he may consider Ravio a good friend, Legend can only listen to him prattle on for so long. And when you were the one listening to the purple rabbit with such rapt attention? No matter how mundane the object or how simple the spell might be? Gods, Legend would have to shove a sock down his throat to get him to shut up.

But… Legend can’t exactly blame the merchant for his gabbiness. He can’t blame anyone for acting giddy around you. He and his brothers would know.

Any and everything you did just… did something nothing else could. Legend could take all sorts of pain medication or even healing potions, but it’d do nothing to soothe out the deep aches in his muscles and bones. But when you would offer to massage his shoulders when he had flare ups? Calm and pleasure would seep into his joints and bones like he had taken a day’s long soak in a hot spring.

Your genuine reactions were another thing that Legend found so precious. Despite having traveled with him and the rest for months, you still oohed and ahhed at anything with a hint of magic in it. Even when feeling an appropriate level of fear towards monsters, he could always see some hint of awe in your eyes. Not to mention the pure wonder he witnessed when you were greeted by the sights of dragons and fairies and all inbetween.

It was like Legend was rediscovering the world through a brand new pair of lenses. All of the geological monuments or sights that he used to dismiss did have some level of majesty to them. The speckled night sky and the blazing sunsets and sunrises were rather breath taking, he would admit. “Not as breathtaking as you” is what he’d want to say but Wars always beat him to the punch. And then Legend would, typically, physically punch him later.

And he loved you for all of it.

He loved how genuine and real (because you are- you are real and this is no dream) everything felt. It was like the unseen muck clinging to his soul was cleansed from him when he was around you. His drive, his heartbeat, and his every breath was fueled by you. He adored that you made him see the silver linings in things when his pessimism gnawed at his mind. He had to stop himself from physically crooning into your arms when you’d hold him so tenderly after he awoke from a nightmare. Even when it was habit to snap or quip when in a moment of vulnerability, you still held the shards of glass that he was in your hands without fear of being cut. And if he ever hurt you, no matter how or to what capacity, he’d want you- need you- to inflict it make onto him tenfold or else he’d just have to do it himself and he long gave up on being gentle in such regards.

The long and short of it is that you made Legend feel alive. His heart- his chewed up, spat out, stomped on, cursed at, beaten up, and bruised heart- was yours. His soul- his battered, broken, and down trodden soul- was yours. He is yours. He is only yours. Curse Hylia and all the other goddesses who ever used him as a means to an end. He cares not that the Hero’s Spirit thrums within his veins. He cares not to defile it with sweet sin and indulge in what he pleases. You- you are what he wishes to please and he cares not for what way it is to be done. If you wish for him to continue on being a courageous hero, then so be it. If you want to see him cave into desire and darkness, it will be done. Your word is scripture and he, a preacher.

But…

You won’t leave him without… perhaps a gift or two to reward his devotion?

Unlike some others, he would like to be upfront to you about every feeling of his and what he’s done but he knows he can’t. It’s intense- to the point that that word can feel like an understatement. That intensity would scare, no, terrify you- so Legend keeps his mouth shut. So, because you technically don’t know of his deeds or to the extent of which they go, it’d be wrong for Legend to ask for rewards so out of the blue. No worries, though… he knows how to take them.

He’d never steal from you- no! Gods, no! He just… takes things that are of no use to you anymore. Trash, if he had to label what some of these items were to you. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure, as they’d say. These gifts were too precious for Legend to just leave behind at his house, so he kept them close in a secret satchel of his bag. When this adventure was all over, his first objective would be to redecorate part of his home so he could display this new collection with pride. Not that he’d really need it when the real thing would be in the next room regardless if it was by choice.

At the current moment, his collection wasn’t very big but it was filled with treasures he considered priceless.

A solid choice for comfort was a lightly stained handkerchief. While it had not been in your possession for long, you did use it quite a bit. You had played an undercover role while in a town for a few days, posing yourself as a bright, bubbly, and slightly air-headed noble. Many fake tears, both happy and sad, had been wiped away on this square of cloth. The handkerchief was saturated in your essence by the end of the mission and the normal course of action would be to throw it away. Legend was not about to let that happen, though- not when the item held so much of you. He can still taste the subtlest sweet and salty tang on his tongue whenever the fabric is brought to his lips.

For a more bitter than sweet item to bring him back to his senses whenever he was off his game was a large patch of gauze. The blood that stained it had long since turned brown and slightly rancid, but Legend was not about to throw it away. It was a reminder that you, although more divine than the goddesses themselves, still bled and could still perish (even entertaining such an idea for a split second was enough to ruin Legend’s day and kick up a nightmare come bedtime). It was from your first major wound you obtained when traveling with the group and you got it whilst defending a downed Wind from a few black blooded moblins. Legend was proud of your efforts that day yet ashamed of himself for letting you be in such a situation without back up. You were- under certain conditions, of course- allowed to partake in battle with him and his brothers. You preferred to swing and hack at your enemies instead of using technique, but that in and of itself had its own charm. Legend disliked you being dirtied by anything, but seeing your visage dripping with the blood of your enemies- watching the thick liquid curve down the contours of your armor, hearing you huff and puff and snarl from beneath your helmet, seeing your slowly growing muscle mass twitch and tighten to adjust your stance or grip- did something fierce to the man. He’d find an excuse to be alone for a moment to… “relieve” himself and sing out your praises under hushed and hot breaths.

His second favorite treasure of his private collection was one of the few things you actually did gift him. It was a strange item in the fact that Legend had never seen anything like it and likely never would unless the group was to end up in your world. It’s a very ridiculous item that’s called a- and he had to ask you to repeat this multiple times because he couldn’t believe it- worm on a string. Or, as you had also endearingly named the painfully bright pink, googly eyed strip of fuzz- Fred. It took Legend some time to get used to Fred, but he eventually began to look upon the worm with some joy after awhile (out of amusement of the absurdity that was Fred, The Worm on a String). He had honed his sleight of hand over the years so manipulating the thin, practically nonexistent string that was attached to Fred was a piece of cake once he got the hang of it. Causing the fuzzy worm to wiggle around his fingers, jump from hand to hand, or even jokingly make it dance to music was a quick way to make either himself or someone else laugh. Despite the toy’s sheer level of strangeness, Legend partly saw himself reflected in it. How it did whatever the puppeteer wanted it to do but made it appear as if it acted upon free will was something Legend related to more than he’d like.

His all time favorite treasure of this collection was something he felt like he could never reveal to you. Not necessarily because of what they were, but because of what Legend has done in relation to the items. The items in question being your clothes. Not any old tunic or pair of trousers- no, your original clothes. The very same clothes you had been wearing the moment you met him and the rest and changed their lives for forever.

You had worn them whenever possible for the longest time as a source of comfort both physically and mentally. These clothes, though, were better suited for lounging around the house than adventuring so it took naught but two weeks for them to end up to frayed to continue wearing. When Legend had taken them from you, he promised to fix them up to the best of his ability and then return them to you. And he did, but… he believed you had no need for the clothes anymore as you grew used to adventuring gear rather quickly and… Legend would feel guilty and ashamed for days on end considering what he did to the fabric. While good with a needle and thread, removing stubborn stains from fabric proved a bit more difficult than Legend had hoped for.

The hoodie had been the first article to be defiled. After it was patched up, Legend had tried it on out of curiosity and understood its charm. He also noticed that it must have been something you wore often given how heavily your scent clung to the soft cloth even after a few washes. The smell was warm, musky, and a little sweet like fresh bread and linen sheets and Legend could inhale it for hours on end if he was allowed. Whenever he had been alone with it for long periods of time, he would don it and trace his hands over it. His imagination conjured up images as wholesome as your embrace to something more… racy, such as feeling the dips and swells of your body beneath the hoodie or even slowly peeling it off of you to reveal a sea of bare skin ready to be inscribed with all manner of loving marks.

The second item was your pants. It was made of material as equally soft as the hoodie but thinner and therefore weaker. The inner thighs of the pants had already been frayed from prior use and those little holes were made more apparent due to the many hours of walking you had to do almost every day. Though you had lost some fat and replaced it with muscle, Legend imagined that the plush of your thighs would still strain and spill out of these little holes. Just wondering what it’d be like to kneel between your thighs and have a chance at kissing and licking at those spots of skin made Legend a weak man.

The third and final item was the one that brought Legend the most shame. Were he ever caught, he was sure he could explain away wearing or worshiping messing around with your hoodie or pants but… your underwear? No, there’s no coming back from that one. Not if he was found with his nose buried into the fabric. Not if he was found nibbling on it while all manner of saucy and raunchy thoughts invaded his mind. Not if it was revealed that, at one point in time, he had worn them for a full day and all it would take was for his tunic to flip up a little to reveal them.

Yeah… this collection of his was definitely going to stay private for awhile longer.

It was more than just material items that Legend considered to be a part of this growing collection of his, though. It was also moments and memories- things that were intangible and could never be bottled up. He could inscribe words onto paper, sure, but he was far from poetic and would hate to potentially soil these fond memories with lackluster writing. Memories like the first time you truly smiled at him. Memories like the sheer joy and victory that washed over your face when you successfully downed your first boss monster. Memories like your soft breathing against his neck when you had fallen asleep against his shoulder after partaking in some drinking games with him and the others.

And moments like what was happening right now.

Legend’s senses have never felt this electric before. Every smell in the air of the small inn room was sharp and distinct. Even when cloaked in shadow and dim moonlight, Legend could make out the contour of every dresser or picture frame with ease. His ears picked up on the sound of the outside breeze, the creaks of the floorboards, and the blood rushing through him. The taste of tonights dinner was still prevalent on his tongue along with the sweet undertones of the honey ale served to him by the inn’s staff. Lastly, there was the feeling of his clothes rubbing up against him whenever he moved or breathed, the way stray strands of his hair would tickle against his face, and the way you were tucked up against him.

Although five double rooms were booked for the night, it seems like the inn only had four to spare. As a result, Legend found himself sharing a single bed with you for the night. Fortunately, no one else knew of this arrangement as the innkeeper still told the group that five double rooms had been prepared for them. Unfortunately, however, was that the discovery of this single bed situation was only found out when you and Legend went to retire for the night. It was a shock to you both but you had recovered faster than he did and treated it far more casually too.

Stubborn as any Link, you had argued that it wasn’t that different than sleeping in the same tent together. After all, all that ever separated you from whoever your partner was for the night was a bed roll. It was this course of thought that caused you to drag Legend into the bed with you and then almost instantly knock out like a light. Had the two of you managed to stay on your respective side of the bed for the whole night would have potentially made him feel a little less nervous about the situation. As Legend quickly found out, though, you had a habit to latch onto things in your sleep.

Your head was nuzzled into the crook of his neck and your slow breaths cascaded down his throat and spanned across his collar bone. Your arms were loosely wrapped around his torso and although they felt lax in their grip, Legend didn’t have the strength in him to tear away. Despite trying to angle his body away from yours, your legs still ended up being intertwined with his own. You clung to him gently and completely- like something a lover would do and not a friend. That simple thought stirred up a storm in Legend’s heart and he had no idea how to calm it.

Legend was a bomb ready to blow. He didn’t know if he’d get up and run away like a coward or finally listen to the animalistic urge chittering in the back of his mind like the rabbit he loathed to be. The two courses of actions were locked with each other in a stalemate that had Legend sweating like a sinner in church. That is what he felt like at the moment and was, after all. Your body is a temple and he’d love to do nothing more than worship the holy grounds of your skin but he couldn’t. He was filthy, unclean, and drowned in sin. His mere presence near you in the moment felt like a violation to your being. Considering the many images and fantasies that have bounced around in his head more times than he can count, he felt he was ready to be burned at the stake.

You twitch and Legend freezes. He’s stiff as a board as you adjust your position in your sleep and he finds his nose nearly pressed up against the crown of your head. He caves and allows himself to inhale. It’s deep and filled to the brim with your scent. Your hair hadn’t been washed in a day so no smell of shampoo clung to it anymore but it was far more addicting that way.

Finally, Legend managed to move himself but it wasn’t away from you like he should. He idly carded a hand through your hair and marveled at the strands like they were made of gold. He did his best to not let his fingers get caught on any knots lest he wake you. Any number of lie could excuse his actions as nothing more than accidental but that would required Legend actually speaking and he was sure his throat had closed up the second he got into bed.

Legend twisted a small strand together and rubbed the tip of it between his fingers. The hair fibers were soft and smooth but not to the point of silk. It felt like messing around with the brush part of a newly crafted paint brush. Hmm… your hair would definitely make for an interesting tool if used in such a way but Legend quickly thought of something much better.

What sense of dignity and virtue he had left finally seemed to admit defeat as Legend reached to his side for the small dagger he carried with himself at all times. It was never smart to be without a weapon or tool- especially given his track record. He curled a small lock of hair around his finger until he reached your scalp. With precise movements, he brought the blade to your hair and began to saw against it. In a moments time, Legend pulled his hands away and with it came his newest prize.

With nothing to tie the hair up with, Legend resorted to knotting it onto itself. A single knot would be enough to do the job and then it was tucked away into his pocket without problem. While this all happened, you remained snoozing away. Your peaceful image made Legend’s heart twist with guilt and shame but the giddiness of obtaining a new treasure soothed the ache.

“Mmmmmmph…”

With a tiny groan, you hoisted yourself up onto your elbows and away from Legend. The ice that was in his veins only minutes ago return with a vengeance as Legend realizes that he’s about to be caught. To torment him even further, his burst of shamelessness scurries away and his moral code- no matter how busted and dingy it now was- had his face flushed full of embarrassment.

“Mmmmmmmmhhh… Legend?” You called out as you cracked open your bleary eyes. Your voice was rough from just waking up and still interwoven with fatigue. It had to have been the cutest you’ve sounded yet in Legend’s opinion.

“What?” Legend huffed after a beat. Narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, the man did his best to appear as his normal, snarky self.

“What time is it?” You ask as you rapidly blink and rub at your eyes.

“Still nighttime. You have a nightmare?” Legend replies before asking his own question. Whenever the group was staying in an inn, you always managed to sleep like a log. So, to see you randomly wake up after only a few hours of sleep, Legend felt that something was amiss.

“No… jus’ overheating,” You murmured out. It seemed like a higher power was not yet done poking fun at Legend tonight as you began to remove your shirt. Any protest for you to stop died on Legend’s tongue. Even in the lackluster moonlight sneaking in through the curtains, Legend could make out the silhouette of your side and the detailing of your skin. The sheen of sweat collected on you was obvious proof that you weren’t lying to Legend or finding some excuse to shed your shirt. A small, sick part of him wondered if you’d shed more and if he should copy you and what your reaction would be and if you’d grant him the ultimate wish of allowing his dreams to become reality.

You leaned back and flopped back onto your side with a huff and didn’t bother to cover yourself back up with a blanket. You were overheating and that was to be expected but it sure as hell was making things so much worse. How the hell was he expected to get any sleep now?! Your exposed back is right there! All of its intricate layers of muscle and soft pads of fat made his fingers twitch just… just a little touch won’t hurt, will it? He watched as a bead of sweat grew big enough to lazily run down your back he suddenly found himself feeling very parched. He couldn’t tell if this was meant to be another gift or some form of divine punishment for the unsavory things he’s done.

When a low groan rumbled from you and you tossed around for a bit, Legend was reminded that this was rather uncomfortable for you. He got up and went over to his bag for something to help. Upon finding a rag and a bottle of cool water, Legend knew exactly what to do.

In the blink of an eye, he was right back at you side. He wasted no time in wiping you down and his heart fluttered when a relaxed noise left your mouth at his actions. He handed you the bottle of water while he made sure not a drop of sweat was left clinging to you. He did his best to keep his breathing under control and to not wipe down too hard with his shaking grip. After one of the best ten minutes he’s had in awhile, he pulls away and gives you some space.

“Thank… you…” you whisper before falling back asleep. Legend is too laser focused on the damp rag in his hands to respond. He’d look over at you every minute to check on how deep of a sleep you were in. Once he was sure you were fast asleep, he made his escape.

When you awoke in the morning, it was thanks to Wind flopping onto you and squeezing the breath out of you. You shoved the little shit off and waited for Legend to bark out some heated words at him but he didn’t. In fact… where was Legend?

“He’s already downstairs with everyone else. In fact, Time said that he was up before him,” Wind answers the unasked question. He leans in a little with an exaggerated expression on his face. “I’d avoid him if I were you, though. He’s acting sort of- ugh, nice. It’s creepy.”

With the warning(?) in mind, you went downstairs with Wind after you got changed. True to his word, Legend bore a slightly more lax and passive face than he usually did in the morning. You were sure your eyes were fooling you at this point but did he just smile at you???

“Sleep well? Sorry if I made you lose any z’s thanks to my hot flash,” You speak up once you’re sat down beside Legend.

“No, no… it’s alright,” Legend idly responds. This time you’re completely sure that he’s smiling because you’ve never seen him smile so… animalistically before. He may not have had Twilight’s sharper teeth, but you knew a wolfish grin when you saw one. He leaned in close, spurred on by a sudden burst of confidence, and whispered into your ear behind a cupped hand. The words confused you at first but quickly caused your face to nearly match Legend’s tunic.

“Is everything alright?” Hyrule pipes up once he notices you and Legend. The innocent lad tilts his head at lack of response from either of you and you don’t dare to look him in those big ol’ pools of green. Besides, how could you tell him of all people what Legend just said?

He’d never look at his predecessor the same way ever again if he heard that filth.

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #Yandere lu legend #yandere lu legend x reader #yandere lu #yandere lu x reader

112 notes · View notes

aller-geez · 4 months

Text

You’re Safe Here ˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Okay seriously though…. I will not sit here and try to pretend that this fic wasn’t entirely for myself cause wow the whole thing is just self indulgent fluff….

Disgustingly sick Remi with the most sweet and pure caretaking from his mate. About 8k words with a bit more snz…… plus a little more mess than I usually write. Also has Levi help Remi hold back at one point 😏

CW: There’s also one sentence in this about nausea, but nothing past that.

@thekinkyleopard owns Levi as always! 🩶

Remi's peaceful slumber was abruptly shattered by a heinous nightmare, vivid and horrifying as they ever were. The wolf's cry echoed through the darkness of his dream, but its haunting howl also pierced the veil of reality, shaking the walls of their bedroom as he jolted awake in a cold sweat. His heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer and every nerve in his body was on high alert, fueled by a surge of adrenaline that made his breath come in ragged gasps.

Frantically scanning the familiar surroundings, Remi's green eyes were wide with terror as he tried to shake off the lingering effects of the nightmare. But there was an unfamiliar tightness in his chest and throat, raw and constricting, making it difficult to catch his breath. Before he could calm himself down, his mate's hand squeezed his thigh in a gesture of comfort, but it only served to startle him even more.

With a yelp, the wolf nearly leapt out of bed, trembling as the remnants of the nightmare lingered in his mind. It was a constant battle, trying to keep the terrifying memories at bay, but they always managed to claw their way back into his consciousness, taunting him with their brutality.

“Remington!— Acushla! Hey! It’s just me!” Levi waved his hands in front of his mate’s face, trying to get the others attention.

Quickly, Remi was pulled back to reality by the leopard’s soothing voice. Before he could express his appreciation to the feline, however, the tightness in his chest demanded the spotlight, and his appreciative sigh was choked off by uncharacteristically breathless coughs that rattled within the wolf’s clearly irritated lungs.

Groaning loudly in annoyance over the way his body ached and his head throbbed, Remi forcefully fell back against the mountain of pillows behind him. After a second, he finally turned his head towards his mate, who cautiously smiled at him from the other side of the bed where he was nested in his soft snow leopard print blanket, with a thick, yellow hardcover book in his lap. A half full cup of coffee sat on his nightstand, and the lamp next to him had been dimmed as much as it could, splashing a calming yellow light across that side of the room.

“What’re you doing?” Remi asked through squinted eyes, his voice laden with a subtle hoarseness to it.

Taken off guard by the question, Levi cocked an eyebrow, looking from the book in his hand, then back to Remi and then back to the book again, confused.

“Whatdya mean, Rem? Clearly I’m stealing the Declaration of Independence; isn’t it obvious?” The feline giggled coyly, but the wolf was unamused, rolling his emerald green eyes with a more serious expression over a playful one.

Truth was, he felt like something someone would scrape from a storm drain or a gutter; just soggy and cold and overall just— icky. He didn’t mean to take it out on Levi, and he knew the leopard didn’t deserve it. But his fuse was so short currently, he couldn’t help it.

“No but really.. it’s this amazing book I picked up at the book store a couple days ago with a bunch of different Erotica short stories! At first, it didn’t even sound like something I would like personally, but I started reading it last night and I couldn’t believe —“

Cutting the leopard off mid sentence, the wolf muffled a grunt into his pillow, the pulse of an intense migraine throbbing through his temples. He reached back towards the now silent leopard seated next to him and gently patted the other’s thin thigh through the comforter that was wrapped up around them both.

“I love you, Levi, but—“ Remi’s voice cracked, and he had to forcefully swallow the sticky saliva that coated the inside of his mouth before continuing, though the hoarseness in his tone was clearly heard now. “—but I just— need 5 minutes without any talking..”

Grimacing outwardly, he brought a hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, squeezing his eyes shut. It felt like someone had dropped a cinder block on the top of his head then proceeded to beat him with a shovel, and he was suddenly aware of the pressure within his eyes as his heartbeat pulsed painfully behind his eyelids. The congestion that decided to invade his sinuses the night before had definitely decided to set up shop, making breathing through his nose an imaginary concept. His ears were even clogged, which didn’t help the intensity of the pain within his skull.

Why did he always get such little warnings when it came to his immune system? He would be perfectly healthy the beginning of one day, and within 24 hours he was completely incapacitated by illness.

Without turning his head back and seeing Levi, he could just feel the offense taken by his blunt words. He knew he needed to correct himself and clarify with his mate, however, the energy it took to even confirm with his body about how absolutely shitty he felt was enough to lull the wolf back to sleep for a moment, dozing off with his mouth agape and a thin line of drool escaping his clearly chapped lips, falling onto the pillow below.

The smaller male scoffed almost silently, adjusting the book on his lap and tossing the wolf an insulted glare. “Sure, good morning to you, too, dick.”

Levi shook his head with a frustrated sigh, craning his neck upward a little to try and see his mate’s face, trying to gauge what he was even doing to need silence. When he noticed Remi asleep again, the leopard rolled his icy blue eyes with a huff, before returning to his book.

“Damn, Rude,” he whispered to himself with a crinkle of his freckled nose.

If you didn’t count the loud, ragged mouth breathing, the sub conscious sniffles his body preformed to keep the mess within his sinus cavity from escaping as much as it possibly could while he was asleep, or the occasional unintelligible word muttered in a hoarse, almost grotesque voice, 20 minutes of near silence passed as the smaller male continued to read his book, getting fully enveloped in the story he was reading.

Just as he was coming up on an important part in the plot, he felt Remi’s unconscious body shift next to him, and he managed a quick glance up to his mate, who was completely still again, although now positioned on his back. His broad chest rose and fell rhythmically, although more labored and frantic than usual.

Without giving credit to the sheen of sweat that coated his tanned skin, causing the damp sheet to stick to his bare back, Levi paid the wolf no more mind, desperate to read his book. He picked the book up this time, holding it out in front of his face while his eyes scanned the words on the page until he read something familiar, causing the white haired male to squeak happily before burying his nose back into the text again.

Not even a few minutes pass before Remi’s previously motionless body shifted next to him again; his defined nose quivered involuntarily against the moonlight that was pouring through the bedroom window and glinting off of the single watery line of snot that threatened to drip down the raven haired male’s upper lip.

Quickly placing his thumb firmly under the last word he had read as to not lose his place, the leopard reluctantly ripped his attention from his book again to shoot another glance toward his mate. He had been too invested in the book he still tightly clutched in his hand that his mate’s usual tells had gone unheard and unnoticed, and the cat was caught off guard by the familiar pre sneeze face that twisted the other’s features.

Suddenly, one good inhale caused Remi’s large chest swelled so full it looked as if he might burst, followed by a barely audible whimper, before his lanky frame snapped forward aggressively into a fully upright position.

“hh'IETSH’UE! Hihhh—Hihh’EXTSH’ue! HI’DTSCHIEW!” The wolf sneezed harshly down towards his own lap, decorating the surface of the blanket with thick droplets of mess. His nose ran profusely, causing him to try to frantically snort back the thick wall of congestion without much success as the pink hue that dusted his fevered cheeks became even more intense.

His strategy only resulted in a ticklish coughing fit that rattled deep within his chest cavity, and lasted a little longer than either of the two would have liked, earning a concerned frown from the leopard as he set his book down on the nightstand and reached out one of his pale hands to gently rub circles in his mates damp, muscular back.

“Ghnnhh..” the wolf moaned quietly with his head in his hands, melting into the other’s touch and sniffling unproductively.

Every muscle in his body screamed at him, and the pressure within his skull was almost unbearable after such a rough wake up. Wincing again, Remi brought one of his large hands up to grip his temples between his thumb and index finger, squeezing his eyes shut to try and relieve some of the pressure in some way.

Levi tilted his head as he studied his ailing mate, getting closer to the wolf on the bed and starting to massage up and down the other’s back more intensely, this time with both hands. As the other’s deliberate pressure was increased on his aching muscles, Remi sighed in contentment, turning into jelly within the cat’s expert hands.

“What can I do for you, acushla? Let me help you.” The leopard whispered as quietly as possible to avoid aggravating the other’s headache.

“Hhhnm?” Remi willed his eyes open to glance back at Levi, and the usually bright green glow of his irises was now dim and unsaturated, while dark purple circles painted the flushed flesh under his eyes.

“Oh— Ndo, that’s okay.. Th-Th-hehhh- thandk you, kihhh— ihh- ih’TTSSHH! hih’iiiSSHHH’uu!!” Remi tucked his face into his shoulder to direct the sneezes away from the other, following them up with a thick, waterlogged snuffle and a pained sigh.

“Bless you baby.. do you have a headache? You want me to get you some ibuprofen?” Levi asked gently, already shuffling his body to get up to grab the bottle of medicine.

“Thandks.. and yeah, I guess I could take sobe..” The wolf sighed and admitted defeat, dragging his wrist under his nose and leaving a wet trail up his forearm. With another thick sniffle and a grimace, Remi shuddered, suddenly feeling the air hitting his still damp skin and causing goosebumps to rise all over his body.

“Cad you see if we have ady tissues left, too?” He asked rather pathetically, leaning back against the headboard and pulling the comforter that was lazily draped over his waist up under his chin, curling up his comically long body so he was in a tight ball around himself.

Levi nodded towards the wolf with an endearing smile, getting up and making his way to the door.

“Of course baby.”

After a second, the leopard returned with a large bottle of ibuprofen paired with a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and gently plopped it into Remi’s lap with a smile.

“Here’s this, and—“ with a sheepish expression, Levi pulled out a fresh roll of paper towels from behind his back and offered it to the wolf. “We ran out of tissues, but I can get more in a little bit.. until then, this is all we had..”

With a single defeated chuckle, Remi took the roll from the other’s outstretched hands, shaking his head as he ripped off a few of the first sheets and folded them twice, then three times before tenting them over his nose. With a loud, productive gurgle, he blew his nose into the paper before exhaling a sigh as he balled it up in his hand, absolutely drenched through. The rough paper towel was harsh against his poor reddened nostrils, only furthering the chapped, irritated skin there. With a ragged inhale, he tried to catch his breath enough to open the bottle of ibuprofen in his lap, but when he was distracted by another onslaught of chesty coughs, Levi’s optimistic expression quickly faded into concern and he sat on the edge of the bed close to his mate, taking the large bottle of medicine from his weakened grasp.

Remi didn’t protest like he usually would; instead he just watched the cat with a pitiful look on his downtrodden features, which made Levi more concerned than anything.

Dumping out 4 ibuprofen into his ivory palm, the cat offered them to Remi with a gentle rumble from low in his throat that sounded like a purr, and a small smile.

He had to remind himself inwardly that his mate always did better when he didn’t lose himself in worry over him, and instead just tried to be optimistic. The wolf always had been bad about absorbing the cats emotions, and he needed to be there for Remi right now, not stress him out more.

Remi reached out to take the ibuprofen almost like a zombie, his expression blank as he took the pills from Levi’s hand, and the leopard could easily feel the heat radiating off of Remi’s hands. Reaching into the wolf’s lap, the cat snatched the unopened bottle of water, cracking the cap off and holding it out to his mate, who took it in an equally uncharacteristic manner as he had taken the pills.

As Remi took a gulp of the cool water, it suddenly occurred to him how dehydrated he was. Without much thought, he lifted the bottle of water so it was almost completely vertical and began to chug the contents as if his life depended on it, only popping his lips from the rim after a moment in order to gasp for air, and sputter a few stray coughs towards his knees breathlessly. Thankfully, at least a couple good gulps still remained in the bottle afterward, and once he caught his breath, he filled his large mouth with the last bit of his water, before tossing back the four pills that he held in his sweaty palm. Once Levi had watched the other take the pills, he tousled the wolf’s hair lovingly as he stood up again.

“I’ll get you another water bottle, and I want to see how high your fever is..” The smile that he plastered on his face was clearly forced, his head reeling with concern for the state of his mate, but Remi was too out of it to call him out for it.

“Okay, thandk you..” Remi croaked out, only his eyes following Levi as he walked out of the door.

He scurried to the kitchen that was only down a short hallway, stopping at the drawer at the very end that was deemed the “miscellaneous drawer” and for some reason was the spot they had decided the thermometer lived. He fished out the instrument from the depths of the drawer and closed it quickly, holding it up with the screen towards him and pressing the button to confirm it still worked. When the numbers lit up across the led screen, he silently cheered to himself before turning towards the rest of the kitchen. As the leopard pulled open the fridge and pulled out another fresh bottle of water, he was startled by another spontaneous fit that was uncharacteristically loud for his mate.

“HEHH’DZSCHh’iEEw! Hihhh- HHHH- hHEH’TZSCHh’UE! Hd’IZTSsHHhhh’ih! HAH—! hiiih’AETTCHHuh!” The wolf sneezed loudly, scrambling to snatch another sheet of paper towel off of the roll and clamp it to his nose and mouth, however the first two escaped before he had a moment to process his impending actions. A river of ick began to pour from his raw nose despite his incessant sniffling ,and tears that welled up in his dull eyes threatened to follow suit. Desperately, Remi stuffed the soiled paper towel under his nose and pressed it there firmly to catch any leakage.

When Levi returned to their room and laid eyes on the pathetic creature that was his mate, curled up under a big comforter, crazy bed head, a soggy crumpled up paper towel pressed to his nose that beamed a crimson hue now, dark circles under his half lidded eyes that were puffy and damp with tears, he swore he felt his heart melt within his chest.

“Here baby, here’s more water, and you know the drill with this..” The leopard smiled with his faux optimism, holding the thermometer up and wiggling it back and forth between his fingers.

Remi snuffled wetly against the makeshift tissue with a nod, removing it from under his nose and lowering his hand until it sat in his lap obediently.

“Sorry if I get sdot odn you, I cadt help it. Mby nose wodnt stop rudding.” He warned with a flat tone, and as if to enunciate his point , a single bead of clear snot suddenly threatened to drip down his upper lip.

“Don’t worry, Acushla. You never have to worry about that kind of stuff, okay?” The cat smiled down at his mate before leaning down slightly and kissing the top of his head. When he pulled back, the wolf managed a slow nod in acknowledgment with a preemptive snort, and opened his mouth for Levi, his tongue slightly raised.

With expert dexterity, the leopard tucked the uncapped thermometer under the other’s tongue just as he closed his mouth. Well, almost closed his mouth. He had to breathe still, right?

Sitting on the edge of the bed again while he waited for the thermometer to beep, Levi began carding his fingers through the damp strands of raven colored hair that even for Remi, looked messy. The wolf leaned his head back slightly, a pleasured groan leaving him as the instrument between his lips continued to get a reading, beeping periodically as it climbed higher and higher.

After a few seconds, Levi could feel his mate suddenly stiffen under him, his ragged breathing now slow and more deliberate.

“L-Levi—“ Remington tried, and the cat’s thin fingers stopped slipping through his hair as he leaned forward to hear him better.

“Yes, baby?”

“I hhh-… I h-have to.. sdehhh- Hihh—! ..sdeeze—!“

The leopard’s icy blue eyes flew to the thermometer perched between the other’s chapped lips, sucking his teeth loudly in response.

“Come on Rem, hold it back for a few more seconds so the thermometer can finish.. I know you can hold it off for just a few seconds..” He coaxed, removing one hand from Remi’s hair and placing a single pale finger under the wolf’s quivering nostrils, pressing it firmly against his septum despite the small pool of wetness that already resided there.

Remi gasped as the sensation that burned within his irritated nose seemed to take offense to Levi’s control, and roared quickly back into an overwhelming force that buzzed so intensely that the wolf began to stumble over his own breath snagging in his throat. The canines ragged breathing sounded almost strangled; breathless. “Hhhh—.. Hhhiihh—“

“Good job baby, only a few more seconds..”

The concentration it took to swallow back the inevitable fit was almost too much for the wolf, however just as he was about to break and succumb to his urges, the thermometer beeped loudly to signify it was finished. Quickly in one fluid motion, Levi removed his finger from under his mate’s nose and snatched the instrument from his lips, before drawing it back towards his face to read it.

Suddenly uninhibited now, Remi couldn’t dream of holding back the forceful, desperate fit that exploded from him, and not a moment too soon.

“Hah'ISSchuu! Hh— hiiih’IITTSSSHUU! tch’ISSH! Heh— hiiiihh—ITSCCCHH’ah! Sdddrff, haah—! hdt’ishhhh! Hihh’ISSHh! Hh— ihH’ktdSHhh!!!” The sheer force of the sneezes that tore through him left his usually strong, able body trembling, a shudder rolling through him as he blew his nose again, soaking yet another makeshift tissue before tossing it to the side. His shaky hands already fumbled with the roll of napkins to tear off another sheet, stuffing the dry paper against his sensitive nostrils that were the equivalent of a broken faucet. Finally turning his head to face Levi again, he snuffled against the paper towel and looked up at the other much like a kicked puppy.

“S’Whats the dabage?” Remi asked, his voice not much more than a whisper and muffled by the mulched paper in front of his mouth.

“104.3…” The leopard sighed with concern, managing a glance towards Remi, who simply nodded when hearing the results.

“If you were human we would be at the ER right now so your brain wouldn’t liquify but—“ With a soft chuckle and a loving smile, Levi reached out to gently pat the top of his mate’s head in reassurance. “It’s nothing some medicine and rest won’t clear up.” He smiled genuinely, a small sparkle of optimism reflecting with his blue eyes.

This small gesture from the other meant more to Remi than his mate knew, and a small smirk slowly appeared across his face.

“Does this mbeand you’ll lay id bed with mbe all day, thend?” The wolf asked hoarsely before managing a chuckle that wasn’t choked out by coughs.

Levi couldn’t help but grin, a wave of relief crashing over him as he was captivated by Remi’s smile; albeit small, it was still more of a smile than he’d expressed since he woke up.

“Of course my love, I would LOVE to spend the day in bed with you.” He answered genuinely before placing another chaste kiss against the top of wolf’s head. “But there’s one thing I want you to do first..”

Quickly, Remi’s smirk disappeared, and he looked down at the bed as he dabbed gently at his leaking nose, the appendage threatening to leak past the rough paper towel that was meant to contain it.

“Bmaybe… depends…” Remi huffed with a more annoyed tone to his already shot voice.

Levi giggled softly at his mate’s theatrics, shaking his head. Leave it to Remington to be a stubborn ass even in the throws of severe illness.

“It’s nothing bad!” The leopard cried, causing Remi to recoil from the volume of the cat’s voice, and Levi clasped a hand to his mouth selfconsciously.

“Sorry— it’s not bad.. I just want you to take a nice, cool bath so you can be clean and comfortable and maybe it’ll bring your fever down a bit..” The leopard finished, avoiding making eye contact with the other for a second, but when he was met only by silence, he turned back to glance at his mate with confusion.

“I dod’t kndow if I cand—“ Remi finally replied sheepishly, one of his hands absentmindedly playing with a loose string that hung off of their comforter on front of him. He already felt as if his head were in a fish bowl, and his limbs felt so weak that he didn’t even trust them to support his weight for more than a few steps, much less wash himself.

“Oh, n-no! I meant— You should let me help you take a bath.. I know you don’t like me having to do all of that stuff but it’s my pleasure, Rem! I just want to do what I can to make you feel even a little bit better, and I think you’ll be so much more comfortable if you’re clean, and I put new blankets and sheets on the bed.. Please?” Levi could feel himself word vomiting, but once the flood gates opened, there was no reeling it in.

At first, the wolf opened his mouth to decline the others kind offer, but watching him get so worked up trying to convince him was enough for him in that moment.

“—okay.” Remi finally croaked out, and it took Levi so off guard that he continued to argue his point, not fully processing the word that had come from the others mouth.

“I swear, you’ll get rid of all that crap in your lungs! I have some Vicks bath stuff that I think will help you and you’ll already be in the water so you don’t even need to bring the tiss— err… paper towels!” The leopard continued frantically, waving his arms about as he spoke.

Remi couldn’t hold back the slightly strangled chuckle that rumbled through his throat. “Kittend— Levi, baby.. I said okay..” he reached one of his baseball mitt sized hands out to place it on the cat’s forearm trying to ground him, his flushed skin just radiating heat a few inches from its surface.

“O-oh— okay, well I didn’t expect you to agree!” Levi beamed so wide that he was forced to close his eyes, and if Remi was honest, that was all he ever needed to recover. The cats smile was bright and infectious and the octaves that it caused the wolf’s heart to sing could be heard no where else in the world. He would spend days lost in the baby blue pools if he could. But he would gladly accept the feline’s kind offer, if it made Levi happy.

“Wait here, I’ll go get everything ready for you, okay?” The smaller male chirped as he pulled the door open, scurrying down the hallway towards their bathroom as the wolf shook his head with a smirk, and a few more ticklish coughs.

It only took a few minutes for Levi to draw the bath, toss a fresh towel and a fresh comfortable outfit for Remi to change to into the drier in the hallway, drop two of the Vicks tablets into the bath water, and light a few small aromatherapy candles that were placed along the side of the bathtub. Lastly, he dimmed the bathroom lights to create an ambiance that wouldn’t be too much for the ailing wolf. Pausing in the doorway for a moment to admire his work, the cat clapped his hands together with pride before dashing back down the hallway into their room.

Even though it had only been a few minutes, Remi was already fast asleep leaned back against the headboard, his mouth hanging open as he breathed loudly.

Levi approached his mate slowly and quietly, and once he was close enough, he reached out to gently muse the wolf’s hair and kiss him on his warm forehead a few times.

“Hey babyyy… your bath is ready~” Levi mewled softly into his ear.

Peeling open his emerald eyes, Remi blinked slowly before looking back at Levi, his determination obviously dwindling. “Are you sure you wadnt to do this? If i’mb this gross ndow, I cad prombise you it’ll be way worse ind a Vicks bath..” the wolf warned, a little embarrassed for his mate to even see him at this level of disgusting.

“Come on, Rem.. we’ve been together too long for me to get grossed out by anything that comes out of you, alright? You’re Safe Here with me. Here, take my hand, I’ll steady you.” The leopard grinned with understanding as one ivory hand was extended towards his mate, which the wolf reluctantly took as he stood up next to the bed, and Levi tossed his mate’s muscular arm over his shoulder to brace him while they shuffled towards the bathroom together.

Once they had crossed the threshold inside the bathroom door, Remi scuttled to the toilet to sit heavily on the closed lid, his head spinning from the short walk to their bathroom. For a moment, he was silenced by overwhelming nausea, having to hold his breath as saliva pooled into his mouth, but once he was able to breathe for a second with his eyes closed, the churning of his stomach finally stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief, which just turned into the same thing all the others had, and he coughed harshly several times into his fist.

“Here, baby, if this is too much for you we can wait until you’re a little better, okay? I don’t want you to pass out..” The leopard asked cautiously as he ran one of his hands up and down the wolf’s back.

“Ndo, ndo, I’mb good..” The larger man sniffed sharply, trying to clear the obstruction from his nasal passages, still to obviously no avail. “Oh, Sorry— you probably deed these off of mbe, huh?” Remi asked in a haze, tugging at the hem of his sweat pant that were still very visibly damp from his sweat.

“Rem— lemme help you, alright?” Levi placed his palm on one of the wolf’s toned biceps to stop his efforts and the canine jumped slightly, startled from the physical contact. It took Remi a second to understand; an expression that resembled that creepy friend of Alistar’s had taken over the raven haired males features, his face completely blank and his eyes almost vacant looking as he stared at the leopard for a second, the wheels in his head turning.

“I’ll help you get undressed, Rem— I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” Levi assured the confused wolf, who finally seemed to understand what was being said to him and released his grip on the fabric of his sweats. He then ever so slowly stood from the top of the toilet, his knees visibly shaking from the effort as he stood there.

Quickly but carefully, Levi peeled the damp sweats off of his mate, and then his underwear as the larger male leaned on the cat’s shoulders for support. All of the wet clothing was tossed onto the bathroom sink one by one until the wolf stood there naked, shivering madly.

“Okay baby, I’ll help you get in, too, okay?” He smiled genuinely as he finally stood to match the wolf’s height and Remi wrapped his arm around his mates neck for stability. Slowly, the smaller male helped the wolf lowered himself into the lukewarm water of the bathtub until the water almost completely enveloped his large body.

At first he didn’t even notice the difference in the Vicks bath water, the thick wall of congestion behind his eyes seemly impenetrable. But after a few moments of relaxing his aching muscles in the warm water all the way up to his chin, the intense scent of eucalyptus and mint that Vicks gave off slowly began to creep into his nose. In an instant, the pressure within his sinuses began to decrease, but the adjustment of the wet cement within his nose reignited the tickle that had laid dormant since his last overwhelming fit.

“Oh— oh god?” Remi asked outwardly, sounding almost panicked as a thick string of snot dripped down his face from one nostril, and the other threatened to do the same. Mortified, the wolf tried to snort back the obstruction while pressing the heel of his palm back against the bridge of his nose, but by this point, the dam had broken and there was nothing that would stop the mess from flowing from his overly sore nose at this point.

And oh god it fucking tickled so badly..

“L-Levi.. cehh— cad I have a tihh— tissue? Toilet p-paper, sombethigg—?” Remi asked frantically, waving one hand at the leopard while he pinched his nostrils closed with the other hand, his dim green eyes squinting through tears.

In a panic, the leopard scanned the bathroom for something he could give to Remi, but the toilet paper dispenser sat in the corner behind the toilet with a sad, empty tube on it. “Sorry babe.. I told you I have to go run some errands when it’s a more appropriate time..” the leopard tried to defend himself, but Remi was preoccupied with keeping his breathing steady, his eyes squeezed shut and thumb and index finger squeezing the raw, pink flesh of his nose.

“you want me to get the paper towels from the room?“

The wolf couldn’t even open his eyes to answer his mate’s question; he was only able to nod frantically, his breath snagging harshly in his throat a few times despite all of his efforts.

Quickly, Levi hopped up from his spot on the side of the bathtub, and dashed down the hallway into their room. His bright blue eyes scanned the messy room trying to locate the roll of paper towels he had given Remi as quickly as he could, but when he finally managed to find them stuffed under one of the wolf’s hundreds of pillows, he was too late.

“Hd’IZTSsHHhh’ih! HEhH’eEZSCHhh’iiEW! HEHH’DZSCHh’iEEw! Hih—hiihhh— hh—“ the last sneeze caught, leaving the raven haired male gasping as the tickle began to back off and climb back into his sinuses, refusing to give him the much needed release. A soft, pitiful whimper could be heard from the bathroom as the wolf scrambled to clean his face of any of the thick ropes of snot that had just embarrassingly exploded from his throbbing face before Levi came back into the room. He swiped his wet forearm against the dripping mess that was his poor nose, and Remi couldn’t help but grimace in disgust at the size of the trail that was left on his skin afterward, quickly using the water around him to rinse it off.

When Levi finally returned to the bathroom again, his expression displayed only empathy as he ripped off a few sheets of the mulched paper and as gently as he could, he cleaned up the wolf’s face before holding the sheets gently over Remi’s bright red nose.

“Blow for me? I promise, I’ll get you those lotion tissues in a few hours to save your poor nose.” The leopard flashed a compassionate smile down at his mate, who although under no normal circumstances would he willingly let the cat help him blow his nose, but his head swam and he was beginning to feel rather lightheaded and delirious from the fever that still burned across his cheeks and forehead brightly, even from underneath his thick black mane of hair. These were not normal circumstances.

Complying without a single snarky comment, Remi forcefully blew his nose into the wad of paper towels in the others hand, completely soaking it in one breath.

“That’s it, Rem—“ Levi mewled his encouragement, gently wiping his mates nose again afterward as to not irritate the red and raw skin with such a rough material.

“Hghnnn..” the wolf shuddered violently as he leaned against the back of the tub.

“Okay, let’s hurry up and get you clean so I can get you back in bed, yeah?” Levi asked with a small giggle, tossing the sodden paper into the trash. Reaching to the side to pull out a blue bottle of shampoo, the cat squirted a small amount of the viscous liquid into his palms and rubbed them together before gently beginning to work the shampoo into his mate’s thick raven colored hair.

The wolf felt as if he was put into a trance. With a soft hum, Remi closed his eyes and let Levi run his long, thin fingers across every inch of his scalp as he lathered up all of the shampoo, nearly willing him to sleep again.

Once the cat was satisfied, he took the shower head off of the wall it usually sat on, and when he reached over his mate to turn the water on, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at the wolf. He breathed a gentle laugh at how content the other looked, admiring the man for a moment before returning to business.

Warm water began to flow gently from the handheld shower head, and Levi made quick work of rinsing all of the soap from the wolf’s hair before hanging it up on the wall again. By this time, Remi was barely conscious, his head resting back against the lip of the bathtub with a half lidded haze clouding over his features. He would help lift his own limbs when he was instructed to so Levi could gently wash his tanned skin, but that was about all of the help he was able to give.

Finally, after what seemed like an entire lifetime, Remi was clean and rinsed off completely. Leaning over his mate again, Levi pulled the cover off of the drain in the bottom of the bathtub and the water began to loudly get sucked away from between the wolf’s feet.

“Okay my love, let’s get you dried off and back in bed, okay? Can you stand up while I go get your towel and change of clothes?” The leopard asked seriously, afraid leaving the wolf alone for 5 seconds would mean certain death for the canine.

Slowly becoming slightly more lucid, Remi managed a slow nod before lifting his arms to the sides of the large tub and using all of his remaining strength to will his body to a standing position while Levi dashed off to pull the warm towel and the comfortable clothes from the drier that he had prepared for the wolf.

When he managed to come back into the bathroom again, he was greeted by a naked Remi who stood shivering aggressively on the tile in front of the tub. “Here baby, this should feel a little better..” Levi tossed one of the towels over Remi’s head as he approached and the canine moaned happily, his shaky hands coming up to grasp the towel and pull it tighter around his torso. Levi had another warm towel that he used to tenderly dry his mates legs, before having him sit on the top of the toilet. The leopard continued to dry the rest of the other’s body very gently until the only thing left wet was his dark, thick hair.

As his mate compassionately took care of him, the wolf continued to become more and more like himself again, and by time Levi was ready to help him get into the clean clothing he was brought, Remi was far more alert and present. Relief washed over the leopard to see the other in seemingly better spirits.

Rising to his feet a little faster than he should have, Remi had to pause for a second and brace himself with one hand against the doorframe. Recovering with a slow shake of his head, the wolf took the pair of socks and clean underwear from his mates hand and proceeded to clumsily pull them onto his lanky body. Once finished, he glanced back at Levi with a bigger smirk than before, almost like he hadn’t just been nearly comatose in the bathtub a few short minutes ago.

“I’ll let you help mbe put these odn though..” the wolf chuckled, stumbling backward a bit and sitting back down on the top of the toilet seat rather roughly.

Levi couldn't help but chuckle softly at Remi's playful remark, his heart swelling with relief and adoration. He understood that the wolf's attempt at humor was a way to mask his vulnerability, to lighten the weight of their situation.

With a soft smile, the smaller man nodded and approached his mate with the sweatpants in one hand, and the tshirt thrown over his shoulder. He kneeled down in front of the wolf, and gently guided Remi's feet into the openings, carefully pulling the fabric up his toned, trembling legs. Each movement was slow and deliberate, ensuring that he didn't cause any discomfort to the weak wolf.

As Levi slid the shirt over Remi’s head, his fingers brushed against Remi's hot, flushed skin, causing a shiver to run up the wolf's spine. Once the shirt was pulled down over the wolf’s head and adjusted around his torso, Levi stepped back to admire his handy work with a grin.

“Perfect!” Levi squealed, to which Remi couldn’t help but blush.

Finally reaching for the hairdryer and turning it on, its familiar whir filling the room as he positioned himself behind Remi. The wolf's damp hair cascaded down his neck in disarray, strands clinging stubbornly to his flushed skin. Levi combed through the small tangles with his fingers before using the hairdryer to blow warm air through the thick raven colored strands, drying each section of Remi's hair with delicate patience as the wolf sat more still than the leopard had ever seen him.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Levi finished drying Remi's hair and set the hairdryer aside. With a gentle hand, he turned Remi's face to the side and pressed a tender kiss to his fevered cheek. The wolf let out a soft sigh, feeling the warmth of his mate's lips against his skin. It was moments like these that made him feel truly loved and cared for, reminding him how lucky he was to have the leopard in his life; let alone being actually LOVED by such a compassionate, outstanding man, when Remi was so… well, Remi.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” Levi said softly, helping Remi off the toilet seat and leading him over to their bed. As they walked slowly through the hall, Remi stumbled slightly, his weakened body still struggling to find its balance. But with Levi's supportive arm around him, he managed to make it over to their bed without falling.

As they approached the bed, Levi noticed that the sheets were still damp from where Remi had been lying earlier. He knew he had to change them before they could snuggle up together.

“Shit, hold on babe. Lemme change these first, okay?” the leopard asked, to which the wolf nodded slowly as he rubbed at his nose with a soft clicking noise and sniffled . With a sense of urgency, he quickly pulls off the old linens in a flurry, balling up the fabric and tossing it in the laundry hamper in the corner. The leopard then rifles through the closet, selecting a fresh set of sheets in a cool grey hue that he knows Remi loves. As he makes the bed, Levi smooths out every wrinkle and tucks the edges in neatly, wanting to create a comfortable haven for his recovering mate.

With the bed ready, Levi helps Remi over and eases him down onto the mattress.

With a contented sigh, the wolf sunk into the pillows and closed his eyes in pure bliss. He couldn't help a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth at how considerate Levi was being, taking care of him even in this small way. He honestly didn’t deserve the leopard by his side.

Climbing into bed next to his mate, Levi and pulled the covers up over their bodies. He wrapped a freckled arm around Remi's waist and pulled him close until their bodies were pressed together tightly.

For the first time, Remi buried his face into the crook of the smaller man’s armpit, his lanky frame awkwardly tangling into his mates.

“Thanks.. for everything.,” Remi murmured against Levi's chest, avoiding eye contact with the other as he fidgeted with a button on the leopard’s shirt.

Levi sighed softly with a small smile and shook his head. “It’s my pleasure, Acushla. I’d move mountains for you… So making you feel a little better when you’re sick is the least I can do, alright? I fucking love you, Remington Connors— in ways I don’t think you’ll ever understand.” The leopard stated matter of factly, like it was already something well known to everyone except Remington, before kissing his mate’s warm forehead passionately. His lips lingered against the wolf’s flesh for a few moments before finally pulling back to flash a genuine smile.

Nuzzling into the warmth and comfort of the leopard's embrace, Remi returned his mate’s smile before snuffling softly against his wrist. “I fucking love you too, Levi Anderson.” Remi attempted to reply with determination, although he was very clearly fighting his heavy eyelids from closing.

“Get some rest baby.. don’t worry, you’re safe here with me.” The leopard whispered quietly against the other’s temple. Content in each other’s arms, they both fell asleep, their breathing synchronized as they lay intertwined with one another.

Thanks so much for reading! If you’re so inclined, I really appreciate getting feedback, so let me know if there’s something you liked, or even something I can improve on next time! 𖧧 ࣪ . ִֶָ ๋

64 notes · View notes

writingforatwistedworld · 1 year

Text

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, religion, obsession, violence, war (if you look really closely)

Jade Leech/Malleus Draconia-Voicelines about you, the Overseer

Cheering to yourself you looked at the screen, confirming that you just purchased the new voicelines that you were only able to purchase during this event. To say that this event was stressful was an understatement. Heck, even the app seemed like it wanted to prevent you from earning all the materials and exchanging them for the lines of text, the App crashing and freezing whenever there was the slightest inconvenience. It was also very different from what you were used to in this game. Usually it was always light content and a few sprinkles of Angst for entertainment but this time it was like someone took the game and decided to turn it into something that could only be described with “nightmare fuel if real”. With the usual content creators of the game being unusually quiet, if not to say absolutely silent, about it there were no guides to look up, no one seemingly caring to explore the new lore presented. Tapping the screen you finally accessed the voicelines, curious about what they had to say about the individual which was at the center of said event, the Overseer

What is your impression of the Overseer?

A kind yet cunning individual. The sea which wouldn't have been in awe of someone without any reason... Well, I can't deny that I myself am also very curious about them. Goodness, I even dare to say that I feel something akin to jealousy towards the two eels of the sea witch. Why that is? Well, even though these two were following her order they were at the end of the day still following the endless wisdom of the Overseer and whatever their genius plan was. Hah... what I would do to be in their position...

The view of your homeland, what is your opinion on that?

“Thankfully I can say that I am rather satisfied with how we view the Overseer. If we were to have mostly a religious view of them I doubt we would be able to have such a critical view like they do. A thing that is also quite known about them is their free mind. Whereas others were bound by traditions and morale they were able to think beyond those boundaries. It's said that exactly this made the sea witch create her garden. Alovely hobby, wouldn't you agree?”

What would you do if you were ever to meet them?

“I would immediately try to prove my worth to them. I am aware that this might sound rather off-putting to some but I can assure you that I am doing this purely out of admiration which they earned. Everything about them practically screams to be a good leader and schemes. There is nothing more I wish for than to help them with their contracts just as I do right now with Azul. But if there were some kind of annoyance trying to get between them and me... Hmmm... I am not sure if I were able to hold myself together....”

What is your impression of the Overseer?

“Oh, that is a question I did not expect... All I can say is that there is no being higher than them. Even the God of death, the Underworld bowed before them. From what I know the Fairy of Thorns always looked up to them during the war, orienting herself on their might like a sailor would on the stars. It is quite unbelievable but when we take into consideration that they are a God then this is much easier to understand. Sadly, there has not been any sign of them ever planning to descend or anything akin to that. My Grandmother even told me that even my own Grandchildren are not guaranteed of ever meeting them. What a pity...”

The view of your homeland, what is your opinion on that?

“Thankfully I am able to say that I am very proud of it. Many other places see the Overseer at least as a person of high importance, which is not even close to what they deserve, but we know that they are in truth the ruler above all, a God. Simply saying that their actions make them deserve respect is blasphemy. After all, a God is the owner of a world and they are our God. That alone tells us that they do not need to earn respect. They simply deserve it by existing. If anyone would ever dare to talk back go to them the Valley would gladly grind the opposing power to dust. There is nothing in this world more holy than them. Child of man, now that we are already on the subject, if you ever were to visit my home, would you like to attend a church mass with me? They always have something to themselves that makes you feel closer to them.”

What would you do if you ever met them?

“Child of man, as ironic as it may sound, but I am nothing more than a dutiful servant waiting for their masters call. To hope that I were ever to meet them is something I am unable to imagine even in my deepest dreams. But if it were to happen? Hmm... I can not say for certain but I think I would try to be as normal as possible to them. I myself am feared for my power so it might be somewhat soothing if they were to be viewed with eyes that express warm respect rather than fear. But I would never be able to forget that we all are nothing but small threats in their endless woven web. They have a plan, fate as some call it, for us all. We all can just be happy to feel their presence even the slightest bit in our lives.”

772 notes · View notes

evolutionsvoid · 2 months

Text

The Arimakki threat remains a challenge to contain, as their infectious members continue to find ways to breach any barriers put in their way. They burrow through the earth, scurry across the land and flutter through the air, always foiling the cleansers who seek to keep their horrid presence sealed away. Their numbers are many, their determination indomitable. The Arimakki are committed to spreading their kind and infesting the land. Yet, their behavior seems odd in some places, and one big question was raised when the coastal communities noted their homes being Arimakki free. While the rise of colonies can seem random, it was soon noticed that no hives were springing up along the coast. As investigations went deeper, it was even found that the colonies appeared to avoid major water bodies. Pools of humors and bodily fluids were certainly enjoyed by the Arimakki, yet places of pure water failed to grab their attention. The places alongside the ocean seemed free of the infestation, as none of these parasites ever really ventured in that direction. This soon resulted in the belief that the presence of water warded off Arimakki, and that this would be the element that could keep them at bay. Folks whose lands were consumed by the fever fled to places of water, hoping to be free of the boiling terrors. There was certainly excitement going around at the time, as it seemed like there was now a weapon that could truly contain the infection. That was until stories from the whaling ships started to make landfall, and a new horror was brought to this world.

Those who hunted leviathans at sea started to report sightings of a strange new creature found in the waters. Something pale and wormy, yet adorned in fleshy plumes like a revolting bird. The tales speak of the sea boiling and hissing as this great beast swam, its vile body exuding a sickening heat. Only after a specimen was killed and hauled to shore, did the world accept this grim truth. The specimen was dubbed "Arimakki Umi," though the sea folk kept to calling it a "Reviliathan." It is a large parasite that worms its way through the ocean, boiling the waters around it with its Feverish Sweat. When it rises to the surface, the sea boils and bubbles. Five hose-like tendrils whip wildly from its head, releasing clouds of this burning sweat that can consume entire ships. When in battle, it writhes and flaps its horrible wings to churn the waters, making it chaos for those floating upon it. Boats that try to bring it down must kill it quickly, as when in trouble, they will breach the surface and flop their immense bodies atop the vessel. Their wings and boiling fluids smother the ship and crew, dooming all aboard to a deadly searing embrace. Some whaling crews have succeeded in slaying these leviathans and have attempted to harvest some kind of reward from its flesh. Oils, blubber and Feverish Sweat is collected in abundance, but nothing is edible. It was found that the oils and fat could be turned into fuel, but tales speak of terrifying nights plagued by nightmares and wild hallucinations whenever someone slept beneath the glow of a Arimakki fueled lantern. The flame that burns is "unnatural" and those who try to see by its light claim to see pale writhing things in the corners of their eyes, and grotesque faces leering from the edge of darkness. In most cases, the Umi are simply killed and left to rot, with the hopes of slaying these beasts before they can spread.

When news of an ocean dwelling Arimakki became widely known, many feared that it was all over. It wouldn't be long before these leviathans swam to every corner of the globe, spreading their eggs to every continent and land mass. The Vile Red Tree would soon consume this world, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. Yet, when folks began to take a closer look at these encounters, a strange pattern emerged.

All reports of an Arimakki Umi sighting always occurred in shallow coastal waters. So far, not a single ship recorded an encounter with them in the open ocean. And these same sightings kept the Umi to very specific waters, with their range seeming oddly small for such a vast area. Information from the Academy and local sea folk points to these very regions as places where the ocean water is the warmest. It seemed like the Umi cared not for the cold ocean water, which seemed to bizarre for an aquatic species. With this new discovery in mind, whaling crews did their own experiments during a hunt and found that Umi weren't just uncomfortable in cold water, but they actually feared it. A ship tried to drive a Reviliathan away from the coast and into the open ocean, and the beast grew frantic and panicked whenever its body felt the bite of a cold current. They thrash and spit, seemingly losing their minds when coming in contact with the cold depths of the sea. The whalers say that the Umi don't live in the coastal waters, they cling to them. The cold dark bowels of the ocean are to avoided, to be feared. They dare not cross the open ocean, lest they wander too far from the comforting warmth of the tropics. So it seems that while these Arimakki can attack and destroy coastal ships, they are not the massive threat as they were once thought to be. They cannot spread their kind, they cannot make more colonies in other lands, because it appears they despise the very water they live in. While it does give hope and relief, it does also raise questions about the Arimakki as a whole. As an "invading force," it seems like an incredible flaw to their design. How are they supposed to spread if they cannot overcome this obvious hurdle? Why does a simple thing like water perplex them so? What is it in the cold darkness that they fear, that drives them deeper into their warm, rotten burrows?

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

"Arimakki Umi"

Wasn't planning on chucking one of these things into the ocean, but then came across a rather bizarre map monster that I was surprised I hadn't seen before. Like we see plenty of sea boars, odd whales and weird owl faced seal eaters, but this funky fellow? Almost nothin! A crime! It screamed "Arimakki" to me, so thus here we are!

#hara no mushi #monster #creature #parasite #sea monster #leviathan #art #drawing #worm #fall of ichor

30 notes · View notes

bogginswritings · 1 year

Text

Sleepless Nights for the Damned || Percival de Rolo x fem!reader

I'm sorry for my absence. I didn't write anything here in the last like 9 months. Writers block and school were killing me. I hope this can make up for it a little bit, but don't expect too much. I practically forced this out. (I love Percy smsm)

Pairing: Percy de Rolo x fem!reader/oc

Summary: The nights were the hardest for Percy. When his mind could wander because his hands aren't preoccupied with anything. He was lucky now, though. He had her.

Warning(s): Mentions of past trauma, Percy's backstory, angst and comfort, panic attacks (Percy)

(idk who posted the GIF, I'm sorry)

Percy wasn’t entirely sure what he looked like anymore.

He had mirrors, of course, but the reflection didn't always look familiar. He didn’t really know what he was supposed to look like, anymore. Would he have looked like this if his childhood would keep going as it did; happy and joyful? Would the dark circles not be under his eyes? Would he not have the white hair, but rather the brown locks he always had?

He didn't know. But it seemed common, to no longer recognize himself. Wandering alone for years in the need of vengeance, a routine of eating rotten bread from trash cans and stealing apples on the market just so his stomach wouldn't complain; one could say this changes a man.

Percy met a group, and he came up with the name Vox Machina. While this was somewhat stable, he was far from happy. He wasn't even entirely sure why, because he had great and caring friends now. His stomach was always full with food that hadn't already gone bad for at least two days. Sure, the jobs they did to earn some coin wasn't always 'ethical’, per se; but it kept them going just fine. Percy wasn't happy, but he was content. As content as he could get, anyway, for the desire of revenge still lingered and nightmares took over his sleep.

Sometimes he’d kill the Briarwoods in said nightmares, though maybe those should be considered dreams, he didn't know where they came from. Even during the day he thought about it, a gnawing feeling of pure anger taking over his entire being. He had episodes like this, they’ve become more frequent, though Percy was not entirely sure where they came from. Sure, he was so pissed no word in the English language was enough to describe it, but he didn’t think that a feeling of rage would consume his entire being.

No friend could make this better. No one was there at night to comfort him. They didn't understand. He couldn't blame them, he never told them. It wasn't fair to put a weight like that on their shoulders, to trauma dump when they all have so much to deal with already.

Percy felt hopeless, to be quite honest. Especially when he woke up in a cold sweat and had no one to go to. When he had a bad dream as a kid he would just slide in with his parents, now he waited in bed hoping to fall asleep again or at least have his body get the rest. Sometimes he was just extremely mad when he woke up in the middle of the night, and he’d get to his workshop to tinker.

It was always the same, and it felt like a routine. Just like it was routine for Vex to check Trinket’s teeth and Grog to clean his weapons. However, this was a routine he didn’t participate in voluntarily and he couldn’t get out of.

Once again his eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy. It felt like he had to lift up a brick from his chest with every breath in. Percy shot up, sitting upright to try and shake off that horrible feeling. The feeling he was going to pass out from a lack of air. The feeling he was dying. He tried to stay quiet, but a whimper slipped past his lips. He did his best to muffle it, to be silent. Usually he wouldn’t have to worry about it too much, but usually he was alone in his bed. He didn’t share it with someone.

His body got a shock from another stifled sob. Percy could feel this was going to be a bad ride, one he had to let wash over him. Wave after wave until the storm calmed and it passed. They seemed to be more frequent and during the day it fueled his being more and more with wrath and a desire to kill the Briarwoods. Percy didn’t just want to kill them, he wanted to hurt them. He needed them to feel all the sadness and anger he has felt and-

He tried to take a deep breath, to not spiral into there. Right now he just had an intense feeling of fear and panic he didn’t know how to control.

A gentle touch on his shoulder, the weight on the bed next to him dipping. “Darling?” her gentle voice rang through his ears. He couldn't register everything quickly, but she'd sat up too; one hand resting on his thigh whilst the one his shoulder started rubbing circles.

This was the first time Percy had woken her up with it. Though, to be fair, they had only started sleeping in one bed for a week or so. He knew he probably should have warned her beforehand that this could happen- would happen, but everytime he tried an itch in his throat stopped him. God, he felt like such an asshole waking her up, and that only added up to the bad feeling of guilt he had.

“I-” he swallowed, his eyes darted around the room to find something to focus on, “I’m sorry.”

“Look at me, Percy,” Her voice was soothing, “Focus on me.” He did. It took a while, her words still getting processed in his brain, but he did. Her heart broke when she saw his wobbling lips, “Good, take a deep breath with me.”

Percy tried, he really did, but it just wouldn't. It caused him to fall into more of a panic, his breathing turning rigid. She asked him for something so simple and he couldn't do it. “I-I can’t- I can't-” Her hand moved away from his thigh, but before Percy could start crying because ‘she was definitely leaving’, it came back on his chest. “I’m here. Can you lift my hand?” She asked, and she took deep, loud drags of air to demonstrate. It took a while, but he managed to lift it slightly. And then some more. “Good job,” Her hand moved lower, resting on his abdomen, “And now? I need you to breathe through your stomach.” Percy remembered she did it with herself sometimes too, a hand on her belly before they went into battle. He understood why now, because once he managed to lift her hand it actually felt like air was going inside his lungs for the first time in the last- what, five minutes? It took a little while before it became a rhythm to breathe like that, but it helped.

The hand on his shoulder had moved to hold his face, he didn’t know when that happened, but he only noticed it just now. The feeling was nice. “Better?” She asked, and he nodded, “Good.” She gave him a kind smile, and Percy just didn’t know what he did to deserve her. She knew exactly what to do, and she didn’t even know what this was about. If the woman was honest, though, she expected it to be about the dragon at first. An intense experience they went through. But they’ve been through worse, and it didn’t seem to have bothered the man before. Nonetheless, she caressed his cheek and held him. Percy never had someone comfort him like this, but he knew he liked it. “We can get out of bed for a bit, get that busy mind of yours on something else for a while?”

“I’d like that.”

And so here they were, at the table of the shared household of Vox Machina. Two mugs of tea stood in between them, still steaming and too hot to drink. They didn’t say anything, Percy was too lost in thought and she waited for him to figure it out. “I’m sorry.” It broke the silence after a while. The woman gave him a look, not one that ridiculed him; rather one that asked why he would say that, “You shouldn’t be.”

“But I am, I’ve woken you up. I should at least have had the decency to warn you about it.”

“Does it happen often?” She asked, worry etched into her voice. She always assumed the dark circles under his eyes were from late nights in his workshop, like the others. He was a workaholic after all. She didn't think there was more behind it. She felt horrible for not asking him, to make sure. “It does,” Percy said, “I should’ve said something, I’m sorry this is pushed onto you.”

“Stop apologizing,” she dipped her finger into the tea, deciding it was cooled down enough to drink, “That’s what partners are for, if you don’t get that comfort then what kinda relationship do you have. Would you have gotten mad at me?” He shook his head, even though he knew it was rhetorical, “Exactly.” She took a sip, Percy following soon after, “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you. And if you don’t that is okay, too. I’ll still be right by your side.”

“I want to talk about it- I do, I tried.”

“Take your time, Percy,” she reassured, “We aren’t in a hurry. When you’re ready I’ll be here.”

He nodded, sending her an appreciative smile, “I promise I will be. Later.”

“Later,” she affirmed, and they drank the rest of their mugs in silence.

…

“I just remembered we have that dinner at Uriel’s,” They were back in bed, the woman playing with Percy’s hair as his head was tucked under her chin. They didn’t cuddle often, but this felt nice, “You excited?” She felt him nod, “Though I’d be more excited if Grog remembered his manners.” She snorted at his response, but she couldn’t find it in her to disagree.

“I can’t wait to have a change of scenery. Fancy foods,” she gushed, “and fancy drinks.”

“It’ll be good for us, to get some respect as Vox Machina,” Percy said, “It could get us better jobs.” She hummed in acknowledgement. That would be nice. She kissed the top of his head, “We should probably sleep then, to look presentable and all.”

“I always look presentable.”

The woman snorted, “You sure do, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

That night was the first in a while where Percy felt safe.

Alrightie, hope you enjoyed!

#percy de rolo x reader #percival de rolo #percy de rolo #Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III #critical role #vox machina #the legend of vox machina #percy x reader #percy de rolo x oc #tlovm #angst #comfort #angst and hurt/comfort #fluff #if you squint #i'm depraved of content for this man #ilovehimsm

279 notes · View notes

ssahopelessly · 10 months

Note

gonna need this in a fic now ma'am (respectfully)

https://www.tumblr.com/ssahopelessly/720685489891540993/hey-everyone-not-that-it-matters-but-i-gotta

Link referenced here! And without further ado…

Pushed Back

Synopsis: Reader has a fear of Spencer’s forehead and it finally comes out.

Warnings: the 100-30 rule, couple cuddles, fear for loss of future, anxiety, angst, guilt, talks of physical appearance, reference to S5, reference to Mean Girls (2004), reference to S12 prison arc, talks of aging, crying / let me know any I missed!

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

It was as close to a normal night as we could come by lately. While Spencer had found the new contingency to his work at the bureau restraining at times, I was just happy to know that for at least 30 nights, he would be home, safe and sound with me. And tonight was thankfully one of those nights.

It was still a work night for him though, as the local college had agreed to let him host a series of speaking engagements for the month. A crash course on Criminal Psychology and the Implications of Danger in a Digital World. A series he had given before but one he was still thrilled to speak on. Somehow though, he had found himself absolutely tired by the time he stepped into our home, immediately crawling onto the couch before even taking off his suit jacket for the evening. For as uncomfortable as I thought he would be, the pure bliss and state of relaxation smoothed over his face calmed any of my anxieties and as he laid between my legs, his back to my chest, I couldn’t help but run my fingers through his hair, combing it away from his face so maybe he could fall into sleep without a whisp tickling his skin. “I know what you’re doing.” He soon mumbled out, settling further into my body.

“What is that?” My hands didn’t stop, but his eyes soon opened to look up in an effort to try and find me.

“You’re trying to get me to fall asleep.” A smile spread over my lips at my Tired Genius Boyfriend and the way he seemed to keep up with my antics.

“Is it working?”

“Almost.” I couldn’t help but hear the hum he let out, one of his hands blindly reaching for one of my mine. With the only hand I had left, I let a finger start curling a small strand around itself, thinking how soft his hair felt then. It was one of the moments I wanted to keep forever. To stay there on that couch with him, safe and sound between my legs in a state of rest. One of the moments I would call upon the next 100 nights where he would be gone and cell phone unresponsive at night due to a case. But just as the hair slipped between my fingers, I could almost feel our future slip away. I tried to hide away the anxious train of thoughts that would start, and so far he seemed none the wiser. I let my finger twirl that strand as I tried to slow the thoughts, but I had been locked out from the conductor's box.

I tried not to think of how he hated the 100-30 policy but it was my saving grace. How every time his phone would ring, it felt one more ring closer to the end of it all. How I had once been scared of our future but now knew it was the one thing I was ready to fight for after so many had tried already to take it from us. How I wanted to see us grow old together, surrounded by the lives we built for the other. How at one point, I was scared the oldest I would see him age to was 35 and he would be forever stuck as he was in those terrible mugshots. One of the mugshots having been a thing made of my absolute fears and nightmares. The most epitomal nightmare fuel. “What are you thinking?”

“Hm?” I realised then, as his voice had tore through my anxieties and stopped that train, ripping daylight into that endless forest, that my hands had ceased fiddling, and if he was falling asleep, it was no more due to the sudden stop of my motions.

“That hand stopped while this hand,” he squeezed my one hand he hadn’t let go of, “has been straining my fingers for the last 37 seconds.” His amber eyes tried to look up at me then, albeit still upside down, but still at me. And while normally I would find comfort in them, I was scared to look in them. Scared he might see a brewing guilt in my iris. Somehow, he twisted his body from me and up so that he could sit next to me, all before moving my legs to drape over his lap. It was his turn now to move calming strokes over my skin, or in this case, a ghost of a feather touch to one of my ankles. It would’ve been as cold as his skin if not for the way the simplest touch always sent a current of electricity through the cells that dwelled at the sight. “What is it?” He cut through the dark again, his voice a calming clarity to the storm. But as they tried to rage on, I could only remember one thing. That stupid mugshot.

And then I realised how vain it must’ve sounded. How after all this time he might reconsider everything if I let this one sentence out. I was overthinking again. “You won’t hate me for saying this right?”

“What? You thought about dying my gray hairs again?” I tried not to laugh but gosh dang it if I hadn’t already let slip my silly concerns for the superficial points of our lives. “Tell me.”

“Years ago…” the eyes that only offered me comfort in the most chaotic of moments still held their own. His bottom lip had slipped slightly under his top as he waited for my words. Reaching for the hand not on my ankle, I began playing with our fingers again. “I used to have the biggest fear of your forehead.” The absolute smile that plastered itself to his lips took over his expression, his eyes crinkling in the corner as he somehow found something to be amused by in my statement.

“My forehead?” He asked through a breath, trying to suppress his laughter but it was already infectious, a chuckle slipping from my lips before the anxieties returned. “What’s wrong with my forehead?” He asked incredulously.

“Forget it.” Spencer tried to pull me closer then and try as I might, I was not as strong as him. He had successfully pulled me into his chest so I was not only forced to look up at him amidst my confession, but we were also now in a 180 of the position this had all started with. The back of his middle finger ran up my cheek bone in a soothing motion as his eyes continued to bore into me.

“Tell me? Please?” The hand that didn't let go of mine had pulled it to his lips so he could kiss it whilst whispering, “What’s wrong with my forehead.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your forehead!” I tried to explain without digging into my anxieties.

“Are you just scared of the brain it’s protecting?”

“You can’t be serious-“ I had started to roll my eyes, attempting to push him off of me. I still wasn’t nearly as strong.

“Then tell me!” He squeezed my hand then, trying to reassure me that anything I could say was worth his concern too.

“I was scared of a lot of things.” I had started, trying to ease into it. Moving my eyes away from his, I found a spot on the ceiling to focus on while our fingers fiddled with the other again. “I have this thing with receding hairlines, that dates back to middle school really.”

“Are you saying I have a receding hairline?”

“Hush.” He placed a gentle kiss to my forehead, and I tried once more to say what I wanted. But my eyes got caught on a photo of us from years ago. It was months after I had started at the bureau, and just after he got off the crutches and cane, he had somehow let me convince him to get a haircut. His hair was so short back then. But his style at the time perfectly covered the subject at hand. “You know in Mean Girls, the movie?”

“Sure?” It was a classic and I had tried many times to get him to watch it, but he always had more fun stopping the movie to either point out inaccuracies or discuss how certain elements of torment and bullying in a school environment could actually have devastating effects on the adolescent psyche.

“Well, Regina George at one point is taunting Cady, telling her to tell her boyfriend and Cady’s crush that his hair looks sexy pushed back.” I watched as his jaw opened, waiting for his response to spill out as his mind tried to remember the events.

“Okay?” Was all he seemed able to say.

“Well… for a time… your hair was not sexy pushed back.”

“Wait- for a time?” Body rolling myself over, I took to sitting criss crossed between his legs now, both of us leveled with the other. That way, no look we could offer could be misconstrued or not seen. That way, he could see me as I got to the next part. “What do you mean?”

“Years ago, sometime around prison, I really hated your forehead. Not for a receding hairline, not even for your beautiful brain.” Our hands were still except for his thumb rubbing comforting circles into the surface. “I hated your forehead for the wrinkles that had started to form. For the reminder that our youth was behind us and we were older and-“ the words were spilling out and it was only with the sudden tears that had started to form and pressure to my airway that I had stopped.

“And?” He tried to prompt me with a sense of hope in his eyes. Concern was also there, but I would never stop seeing the hope.

“And for the fear it showed me. Fear that we wouldn’t get to grow older. That-“ The moment a tear broke loose, Spencer didn’t let it travel far, the pad of his thumb immediately wiping it away. “That our lives could’ve ended in that courtroom. That you would grow old behind those prison bars and I wouldn’t be there to marvel or adore those silly little lines that started forming on your forehead. That somehow, the universe that never seemed to let you rest had succeeded in taking you from me.” My words caught in my throat again as sobs had started to rack my body. Spencer was quick to pull me into his chest, this time giving my tears a place to land against the heathered material. A soothing hand moved up and down my back and the sense of it all reminded me once how my parents would try to calm me. They had lost their magic touch before I had grown to know his, but this was something Spencer would always be great at.

My breathing started to match his movements and soon enough the cries had stopped as my face remained nestled against his neck. My hands had slipped under the jacket though, finding their home joined together on the small of his back. I gave his body one squeeze before a hand had slipped under my chin, gently trying to bring it out so my attention may be redirected toward him. With an ever gentle kiss to my forehead, Spencer ran his thumb along my cheekbone again, a slight moisture having gathered in his stare. “The universe could never take me from you. I wouldn’t allow it.” I wanted to argue. To tell him he could not make a deal with universal fate but something told me it would be a fruitless effort. “I’m not in prison anymore.”

“I know.” Was what I said instead, finding the strength once again to look into his eyes. “And I’m not scared of your forehead anymore.” Running my fingers through his hair, I smiled at the sight. “I don’t even hate it.”

“Tell me,” he started before using one of his own hands to push his hair away from his hairline. “Does my hair look sexy pushed back?” It was his best impression of the quote earlier, said with almost the same breathiness and cadence to match. I smiled then as my hands moved to the sides of his head, bringing his forehead closer to me so I could kiss the surface. My lips lingered in an effort to whisper a wordless proclamation of love before his hands found mine again, his head rising so he could look at me one last time.

“Yes. Your hair looks sexy pushed back.” I couldn’t help the laughter that filled my lungs and forced its way out, soon inhaled into his lungs and taking over him. Arms moving to secure around me, he pulled me into a hug before somehow wrestling our bodies to lay with the other on the couch.

I could’ve stayed in that moment forever. With Spencer safe around me, knowing the universe could not come for us on that couch. Not that night.

Thank you for reading!

Originally writter: June 20, 2023

I would leave a link to my asks box but it seems to be broken. 😔

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #angst #oneshot #mean girls #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #hurt comfort #fluff

94 notes · View notes

suitetarts · 6 months

Text

reasons to be honest

Astarion x Original Female Character, Dark Urge Tav (Good) Angst, Comfort, Kissing, Fluff (Link to AO3) After Astarion’s confession, Delilah is conflicted but still very in love–which she hasn’t quite admitted to yet. Unfortunately for sober her, she is a sad drunk on a mission after the celebrations in Moonrise Tower. Angst-fueled barbs and comforting words ensue.

Another one shot with my Tav, Delilah. This one happens to make no reference to her features or gender, just that she's a drow with mommy issues. You can go to the AO3 series for the other fic I have for her, or click here.

“Another… please.”

The red tiefling boy hesitates as Delilah’s head rolls awkwardly to the side, the previous shots of liquor clearly hitting her hard. Her piercing red eyes dart to his unmoving hands and then meet his own in a cold glare. With a squeal, he grabs a new liquor bottle from Ketheric’s stores and begins to pour once more.

Another child, a bluish tiefling with tight curls, collecting bottles from the small goblin hovels hidden throughout the first floor of Moonrise, comes marching over to chastise. “Drow Lady, oi! That’s enough!”

“Mmm? I saved your sorry little hides ‘nd you’re cutting me off?” Delilah exhales out of her nose indignantly, easily swiping the nearly full bottle from the boy’s hands.

“Oi oi oi! But that’s s’posed to be mine to sell on the road,” the blue tiefling cries.

The darkness within her, the other parasite on her psyche that pulls her to violence, begs her to reverse her grip on the bottle and crack it open, spilling red across the floor in a viscous new style of carpet. Delilah lets out a puff of air and pushes the thought away with a spot of effort. As she walks away with a stagger, she raises her free hand to wave the children good night.

The various hallways and great meeting spaces that were host to a battle between her companions and the Absolute cultists only a few hours ago is now just a bloody path of stones, one that she hopes will lead her to her bedroll. These cursed lands had truly been a nightmare in every sense of the word. Delilah is hopeful that being one step closer to their goals will allow her some peace and rest. However, she knows that defeating Myrkul’s Chosen can’t possibly help the matters of the heart that tear her from a good night’s sleep.

As the liquid inside the bottle hits her lips, she winces. Blood red and horrendously strong like it was distilled from pure malice. Whoever had decided to keep this in their stores either had something powerfully flavorful to mix it with or hated themselves. Delilah ponders if there is anything in this tower that would be sweet enough to cover the taste, blushes, and takes a decidedly large and bitter sip.

She curses under her breath as she finds herself walking the ramparts of Moonrise, her mind wandering back to Astarion despite the severity of all their other issues surrounding the tadpoles. Delilah continued to mull over their talk the other night and had been unintentionally distant, even though she knew that there was still so much more to say. The discussion replays in her mind once more. Astarion had, at least initially, lied about it all. He had manipulated her so comprehensively, body and soul. He told her such sweet things, some that she recognized as flirtatious tricks, but others that she had come to actually believe. He laid with her nearly every night not because he wanted to, but to control her. The bastard had admitted to her face that the only part of his plan that failed is, essentially, he harbored guilt about doing it after catching feelings.

And even after hurting her so profoundly, Delilah had reassured him. The typical shrill tone with which he joked or complained or flirted during their adventures was absent, replaced with a lower, more melancholy genuineness that she couldn’t help but comfort. She said that she deeply cared for him, that she would stay by his side as he created boundaries for himself. The two had a productive yet brief discussion and she never lied, not a single sweet word or supportive touch.

All despite her heart cracking down the middle, threatening to shatter.

Delilah staggers, reaching to the cold stony walls of the tower for support. Her fingers grip the edge of one of the stones and she could imagine it was Astarion’s collarbones. Her nails dig into the sandy mortar for a moment as her temper flares, before guilt and sympathy eases the tension in her joints. She feels justified in her frustration, but he doesn’t deserve her anger. His situation is beyond complicated and she truly is trying to understand it from his perspective. She goes through the situation again, as accurately as she can manage:

After being kidnapped and implanted with ticking time bomb mind flayer parasites, a hot and powerful drow sorceress (with a tendency to murder without warning or reason!) prances around in the wilds of the Storm Coast with a group of equally powerful strangers, including a famous monster hunter and a fierce alien warrior. The sorceress comes across a vampire spawn that has done little else besides use his body to ensnare meals for his master and suffer indescribable abuse for multiple mortal lifetimes. It makes perfect sense that he would use the tools at his disposal to secure his safety with a band of questionable characters. It makes sense to deceive one of these powerful fools into a relationship. It makes sense to target her as the leader of the group. It makes sense to manipulate her until she is no longer useful. It makes sense to try his damnedest to not actually feel anything for her, because gods forbid she’s worthy of real love. It makes sense. It makes sense.

Delilah sighs into the darkness. Perhaps this was not the most favorable interpretation to Astarion’s reasons for pursuing her the way he did. He had admitted that he’d fallen for her, that he wanted them to be real. It was her who felt an implication in his words that he wanted them to be real moving forward and that everything before was never real.

A chill runs through her as she takes another sip of liquor and she decides to focus on finding her way to camp. She rounds the same door twice before going the correct path and finding a host of friendly faces. Lae’zel, Aylin, and Isobel are near the door, with the former two animatedly discussing fighting techniques while the cleric takes the opportunity to rest and enjoy the peaceful evening with her lover. Delilah stops for a moment to listen in before moving further into camp, where Wyll and Karlach speak in a more somber tone around the fire. She almost goes to join them, but Karlach’s heat and ire at the Chosen of Bane the group had seen right before the battle with Ketheric is palpable in the air. Perhaps it's selfish, but she doesn’t want to be angry for Karlach's sake. Not when she’s already feeling so anxious and irritated about her own stupid problems.

Owlbert barrels past Delilah with Scratch hot on his feathered tail, passing close enough to her that she dodges clumsily and begins to trip. Her hands are sent to break her fall but instead catch on the bleached white linen of Astarion’s shirt.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before speaking with a coy grin. “Darling, I knew you’d fallen for me but I didn’t realize you were going to take it literally.”

A fierce blush overtakes her, bringing a pink tint to her gray complexion. Her tongue rolls awkwardly in her mouth as she tries to cover herself, “I– I didn’t mean to fall. But thank you.”

“You’re completely trashed,” Astarion observes with amused surprise as he attempts to help restore Delilah’s balance. He steadies her forearms before tentatively letting go. Her red eyes, so similar to his own, beam up at him as she only slightly wobbles. His lips pull into one of those sweet half smiles that he only gives to her. “Adorable.”

“Y’think I’m adorable?”

“We’ve been over this. You’re very attractive.”

Delilah narrows her eyes and snickers, doing her best to rub her hands together like a villain in a street play while still holding onto the bottle of liquor. “Again.” He rolls his eyes and begins to lead her towards her tent.

“This–” Astarion emphasizes as he easily snatches the liquor from her loose grip. “–is for not returning the compliment.”

While Astarion has it hoisted in the air, he inches his nose closer before reeling at the strong vapors of the alcohol. She does not opt to carry herself with the typical pride of a female drow, instead choosing to whine and reach for the bottle. The two are evenly matched on height, but he's a master at using his tricks to keep any item just barely too far away.

“Tut tut tut. You know how this works dear.”

She stamps her foot down playfully. “I’ve told you a million times, ‘Starion. You’re–”

He cuts her off with a press of his index finger to her lips. “Ah-starion. If you please,” he asks with a shiteating grin. “Do continue.”

Delilah pulls her mouth to a straight line as she groans in her throat, but her eyes betray the annoyed facade she’s trying to convince him of. They’re smiling. She starts again, “I’ve told you a million times, Ahhh-starion. You’re perfectly gorgeous.”

He preens with satisfaction, tossing his hand through his hair for dramatic flair. “Thank you love, you’re quite perfect yourself.”

Delilah hums and turns away, in part to watch her feet as they approach her tent and also to avoid him seeing her as she repeats his words in her head. Her? Perfect? After all the nasty and selfish thoughts she’s had tonight, and every other night since he finally opened up to her? Hardly. Not to mention that falling for some charlatan with a pretty face and a sad life who tells her what she wants to hear is all far too unbecoming for a drow of her nobility and breeding. Her mother would literally kill her three times over for even an ounce of this behavior. It's frankly a miracle that a mistake like her made it to adulthood. And then there’s the whole thing with nearly uncontrollable murderous urges that, only a few weeks prior, had almost cost him his life?! Perfect.

Astarion notices Delilah’s withdrawal and leans forward to see her chin quivering and her eyes brimming with tears.

“Hey, hey, wait.” His voice drops its usual mirthful cadence. She stops, still facing away from him. “What’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

“I’m not perfect,” she whispers just loud enough for him to hear. Delilah kneels at the rugs outside her tent, clumsily reaching behind her ass to take off her shoes. “Also, I think I’m mad… but I dunno.”

“Mad at what?”

“At you.”

Astarion freezes for a split second before nodding his head in begrudged acceptance. He sets the bottle down and kneels next to her, leaning forward to make eye contact. “Better to be mad than leaving me, which frankly, is what I expected when I confessed what I had done to you. I deserve your anger.”

“No, you don’t,” she says, doing her best to maintain eye contact as the liquor and tears threaten to make her crumble. “Everything you did makes sense.”

He clears his throat, giving himself a moment to gather his response. “I had my reasons, but that doesn’t mean the things I did were right .”

Delilah’s throat contorts as she tries to suppress a sob. All at once, the proximity of the others makes her panic and she quickly retreats into the darkness of her tent. When Astarion doesn’t immediately follow her, she kicks the flap. He peeks in to find her sitting cross legged at the far end, her eyes darting between him and a pillow just out of arm's reach of her.

Nervously drumming against the stiff canvas tent flap as he holds it open, Astarion sighs. “Darling, I’m not sure you’ll be pleased that we’ve had this conversation when you’re so drunk. Maybe this should wait.”

She wipes her eyes with the collar of her shirt. “I don’ care, sit.”

As he crawls in on his hands and knees, his fingers splaying out as his palm leans into the plush of her bedding, she closes her eyes to steel herself. Of their many encounters prior to Astarion’s confession, most of those had been spent here. She was no stranger to the ways of pleasure, but he had brought her to rapture in ways she had never imagined were possible. She had thought of those nightly trysts as an escape from reality, an easy and fun passion to help them both get away from the looming despair of the tadpoles. Just the thought of how Astarion must recollect those evenings makes her own memories turn sour and rotten.

He mirrors her cross legged sit from across the tent, laying the pillow in his lap so that he can fidget with the tassels and flange. He is uncharacteristically quiet.

Was he expecting a scolding, for her to hit him, or some other form of anger, even cruelty? Delilah looks down at her feet. “D’you think I’m gonna yell at you?”

“No,” Astarion says quickly. He plucks at the silver threads of her pillow. “Maybe.”

“I’d never–” she starts, before seeing a fang poke out of his smile and one of his eyebrows shoot up questioningly. “Well, not never, but not about this. ‘Nd I’m not really mad at you. I dunno. You just hurt me–a lot–when y’said you lied to me.” The words seem innocent and childish as she speaks them to her toes. After a pause, she adds, “For months.”

Astarion draws his shoulders forward until his nose almost touches his knees, almost as if he’s trying to make his body as uncomfortable as he feels. “I know, I’m sorry my love.” He looks up at her through his white lashes, a move that could fit right into his flirtatious fop routine if not for the sincerity dripping from his words. “You have every right to be mad.”

“Stop that,” Delilah begs, a smile breaking across her face as she lets out a short sad whimper.

He pulls his back straight once more, looking down before looking back up at her. “Stop what?”

“Stop apologizing and being so nice to me,” she sighs around a smile. But the smile quickly fades. She continues, “And complicated. I dunno.”

“I’m supposed to cut back on the complaints about the niceties you give to me, but you tell me to stop? I thought you wanted me to be all empathetic and sweet to every body,” he says with an air of their usual banter. The pair sit in silence for a moment as the tension once again rises, like a taut bow string waiting for the call to loose.

“What do you mean… ‘complicated’?” Astarion asks, without hardly using any air to carry his words, staring at the pillow flange’s thread between his fingertips as he unweaves it. She knows that he knows what she’s talking about, in general terms. Delilah huffs as she lays down on her side facing away from him, unable to explain this with even the possibility of eye contact.

“I had a lot of fun when we did, y’know, horizontal stuff. I thought you did too,” she starts nervously, holding onto her shoulders as she curls in on herself. “But now… Gods, I’m so gross. I took advantage of you. And you–”

“Stop. You didn’t take advantage of me.” His voice sounds strangled behind her. She can hear him padding closer to her, slowly. “Please, look at me.”

She curls further into herself. “But you didn’t want to fuck me.”

“Stop it, Del. Stop,” Astarion says sternly, pulling her back flush to the ground. He reaches over to hold both of her shoulders in place as he steadies himself on his knees to her side. His eyes unintentionally drift towards her neck, and she recalls this position, with him leaning his chest over hers, is much like that first night when he fed from her neck. His throat bobs, swallowing his sanguine hunger, and returns his eyes to watch hers. “I tried to explain the other night, but– Please understand me when I tell you that everything I did was what I wanted. My intentions weren’t, uh, always the most proper. But! I did want to fuck you. I want to fuck you now. It's just… not that simple.”

Delilah’s skin is hot underneath Astarion’s intense gaze and salacious words, especially the way his hands grip tighter at the idea of taking her at this very moment. She could almost be satisfied with this explanation if sex was truly all that mattered to her. Luckily for them both, it was not.

“Did you ever want to kiss me?” She breathes the question, her eyes softening under the heat of his presence.

He scoffs, releasing her shoulders to kneel beside her. He snakes a hand along both sides of her jaw and tenderly pulls her head up as he leans down to kiss her. Her hands fly up to his ears, her fingertips dragging through his curls. He brings her in closer, their teeth just barely feeling the pressure of the kiss, before he pulls away to hover over her face. He lets out a breath as he answers simply, “Yes. Any time you ask.”

“Even at first?”

“Even the most cold-hearted bastard wouldn’t look at a pretty thing like you and not want to kiss her,” Astarion says honestly, although a hint of his flirtatious tone seeps through.

Delilah tucks her chin into her shoulder, the blush creeping down from her cheeks to her neck and threatening to envelop her whole. She deflects to save herself from burning up. “That better not be a canned line.”

“Well…” His voice cracks and the smile on his lips falters, before he searches her face for some evidence of forgiveness. She still looks like putty in his hands, flushed and pliable. His eyebrows pull together, from pity or guilt or a combination of, as he answers her. “It doesn’t matter, da– Del. It’s true.” He leans back down for a chaste kiss before pulling his hands away from her and returning to a comfortable sitting position.

As he pulled away from the kisses, she did her best to give him a sweet smile but it didn’t quite make it to her eyes. He sighs, laying within reach of her onto his side with his head propped up by his arm. “I’m sure you’re not having an easy time trusting me lately, but… Honestly, it's true.”

She sympathized with his mild frustration. He was saying and doing all of the right things, and they were true, so why was she still upset?

Rhetorical question: she knew.

“Astarion?” She turned to face him with her elbows together and hands gripped at her chest.

“Yeah?”

“I… I think I love you,” she whispers. By the tension between them and the blank look on his face, she feels that the air has been sucked out of the tent. She feels light and breathless, floaty even, at finally putting words to her inner turmoil, and so she continues. “Even though you’re a liar. And I think I’ve loved you for a while now.”

Astarion lets out a large breath, rolling onto his back. As he fearfully studies the roof of the tent, Delilah wonders if he’s reliving some terribly sad memories of others who told him the same thing, others that were doomed to fall prey to Cazador. She wonders if it's the opposite, that he’s never been allowed to keep anyone long enough for them to love him. Or simply that he doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t want to hurt her even more. No matter what his reason is, she reaches a hand out to lay in the empty space between their bodies. An offering that she allows him to take or refuse, regardless of how much she wants to pull him closer.

“Del, I– I’m not sure what to say, but I–”

“If you don’t love me back, or you don’t know how, or whatever…” As she continues, the words trip and catch on the emotion pouring through and threatens to burst from her very soul. “Don’t tell me the truth. I can’t, I’ll… But please, don’t lie either. No more lies.”

Astarion rolls back onto his side to look at her, to look at what he’s done to her. One of his hands finds hers in the no-man’s land between them, as the other snakes through to hold the other against her sternum. “No more lies,” he repeats, earning a nod from his crying lover. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to work on, well, me, and as I do, I will become better. Stronger. For the both of us.”

Delilah curls inwards around their conjoined hands, breathing warm but fading sobs onto the cool skin of his arm. “Are we… Are we going to be okay?”

“Unless you or the tadpoles have other plans.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

He pauses, uncomfortable still with the concept of optimism. Promises of good tidings she made to him were generally met with a bitter snap from a man who over centuries had the ability to feel hope beaten out of him. But, in this moment, he softens at her, as he always has, and says, “Yes.”

They lay in silence for a few too many moments, just holding each other's hands and sharing a peaceful moment of mutual understanding. Delilah begins to lose the fight against her heavy eyelids. The anger, embarrassment, and heartache all seemed so trivial as she laid there with him on the brink of consciousness. He was right; they would be okay.

The last thing Delilah remembers is her grip loosening on his hand at her chest, but the lingering sensation of his cool skin on hers. When her trance breaks, she finds herself parched under a haphazard pile of blankets with a certain elf still resting at her side. She gently lays some of the warmest ones on top of Astarion before she leaves to nurse her hangover, just barely missing the way his eyes peek open mischievously. She misses the way he hesitates to follow her, instead choosing to snuggle into her warmth like a reptile to a sunny rock, trying to keep her heat to himself as the stones beneath the bedding already begin to sap it cold and dry.

40 notes · View notes

ahxtchner · 2 years

Text

dating aaron hotchner headcanons

word count: 754 words

summary: it's literally headcanons, that's all there is to it

cw: mature themes, mentions of sex, lots of fluff tho. cute domestic and mundane stuff. romantic hotch 4 ever

MDNI

at work

because he can't kiss you at work, he always has his eyes on you. longing to be off the clock with you

he loves to praise you and he knows that you enjoy it. never in front of the team though, it brings out too many emotions in him

he refrains from chastising you in front of the team, he'd rather bring it up in private

on cases you get separate rooms but he convinces you to sleep in his bed anyways

cases on crimes against women hit him harder since he fell in love with you as it only fuels his need to protect you

(for the girls) he hates when you have to do the interrogation in sex crimes cases as the unsub is always disgusting. it doesn’t bother you but he hates seeing those guys talk to you.

he refuses to let you go out in the field alone and tries not to worry about you when you’re not teamed up together.

he trusts you completely but it doesn’t keep him from being overprotective.

at home

when you stayed over at his the first few times, he preferred that you sleep in his room and he’d take the couch. apprehensive about intimacy

he eventually decided to sleep in the bed with you when he was alerted awake by you having a nightmare.

you cuddle a lot at night, even if it's hot, even if you don't feel good. being close to you at night is what he craves.

but don't be mistaken, he gives you your space and enjoys his own space from time to time. but seeing you every day at work without being able hug and kiss you really makes him clingy at the end of the day

he really likes candles and will always light them at home. when he’s working on things, taking a shower, or just chilling in bed he always lights candles

you often get him new candles whenever you have free time travelling on cases because he melts them down so quickly

tries to act like he’s not a good cook purely because he doesn’t like the mess of cooking.

friday is movie night for you two... or it’s supposed to be movie night but when duty calls the movie can wait.

last friday you all we’re supposed to watch the Jaws trilogy but work is work

he's not a neat freak but he'd prefer no mess

intimacy and extras

his kisses can be rough when he's needy but soft when he's relaxed

he loves leaving love bites all over you in places that nobody can see but you and him.

sometimes he will carelessly leave one on your neck to which the team always bugs you about the next day

his hands roam up and down your back slowly when he hugs you, savouring every moment.

after cases when he's feeling really handsy, you'll shower together. sometimes he enjoys just the shower and other times he'll really want to make you remember that you all belong to each other

he's a very passionate lover, sometimes rough and almost animalistic. other times soft and sensual.

not only does he like to praise you at work but in the bedroom as well. he enjoys letting you know how good you're doing and using phrases like good girl and sweetheart to do so.

he's always checking in on you during sex to make sure you're okay. always reminds you of the safe word even though you've never had to use it.

he's big on aftercare, he'll carry you to the bathroom to clean you up. he'll get you some water and make you a snack all before cuddling you to sleep.

his number one priority when you're with him is making you feel safe. though he knows you can protect yourself he wants to protect you in the ways he can off the field.

his favorite candle scent is sandalwood vanilla by yankee candle but will enjoy anything you give him.

he loves loves loves to surprise you with flowers, any kind, whatever he can get his hands on. plus he thinks they make the table look nicer.

his favourite love language to give is words of affirmation

his favourite love language to get is quality time, since he doesn't get the chance that often.

he cares about you so much. as a friend, as a coworker, and as a partner. anything you asked of him, he would do it. he is truly infatuated with you

these are so cute i loved writing these out omg, lmk if you want more :)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

438 notes · View notes

fourgods-nobrakes · 1 month

Text

So I've been playing Rogue Trader finally; I was unsure for a long time and then finally got the one spoiler that made me want to try it. Currently I'm exploring the first world in chapter 2, and boy have I had a lot of feelings all over the place, many of them uncomfortable. I do appreciate how much Owlcat have worked to bring out the grinding dystopian horror of ordinary life in the imperium, even though it gets exhausting sometimes -- and I've hit one sidequest so far whose resolution leaned in hard to a specific element that's pure nightmare fuel for me. It's well done! Some nights it's emotionally exhausting though.

I also feel like I'm reacting incorrectly to parts of the story that are supposed to be Bad for my character, getting excited to see a Chaos Spawn in motion or being thrilled when a daemon does its signature move. Or like the whole ending sequence to chapter 1! Look at all that cool stuff aaah! I want to be more heretical earlier on than the game anticipates.

Thus far I am not interested in romancing anyone. Cassia is a sheltered noble kid, and I hope she meets someone who's decent and patient enough to help her discover the galaxy and also learn that commoners are people, but I don't want to be that guy. Heinrix tortures people like me to death, which is not my jam at all in a self-insert-type scenario like video game romance (and I realize this would not come up at all if I were playing the kind of character he'd have a romance with, which I'm not, but his introduction sure left an impression). I've just recruited Jae and honestly hope she bangs half my retinue but I feel like I'd fight her constantly if we got too close. Haven't met Yrliet or Marazhai yet, so we'll see how they go.

But really I'm only here for one character, who isn't romanceable except in my heart. I'll be doing my best to impress him anyway though.

#rogue trader #four gods no good video game opinions

13 notes · View notes

ghoulie-67-baby · 9 months

Text

Shadows - Lightwood siblings

Summary: You have vivid nightmares but you’re family is there to soothe you.

Warnings: Nightmares, angst, blood, graphic dream description, crying.

Pairing: GN!Reader x Lightwood siblings (platonic).

Word count: 1,642.

Shadows. Always with the shadowy demons. No breaks, no mercy, just Shadows.

That was my nightmare, day in and day out, it never changed. I was born into a Shadowhunter family but I couldn't help thinking this life didn't agree with me. Whether I failed in training, got injured in the field or couldn't escape my dreams, life just never seemed to go the way I wanted it to. It was tiring, draining and I wasn't sure how much longer I would last.

My family had worked at the institute for centuries so I had grown up alongside the other children whose parents worked here like the Lightwood children. Alec and I were the same age and as we'd all grown, they became my siblings. When Jace joined the family it was no different, I just had an extra brother now. He was my family, just as much as the other three and that would never change.

Every day seemed to pass in a blur of lights and sounds, without ever seeming to become clear. Colours seemed to get blander as though my energy and colour were being drained from the world until all that remained were purple bags under my eyes, pale gaunt expressions and bruises from countless failures to dodge hits. If it wasn't for the loyalty of my family, I doubt I'd even be allowed to stay anymore. I was a liability to everyone especially my siblings and the thought of them getting hurt because of me, shattered my very soul. I lived for my family and the nightmares knew exactly that, perfect fuel to torture me.

Like right now, I knew I was dreaming, knew the street I was running down wasn't real, and the distant figures of my four siblings were actually tucked nice and warm in their beds but it felt so real. The dark, gruelling world in this dream had no end, just suffering and I was in for a night full of it. I tried to force myself awake, to see I was in the comfort of my own bedroom, Izzy just next door and the boys a little further down but my body refused to see it.

And so I was stuck suffering, barely hanging on, trying to pinch myself awake with the fear of being a failure looming as I watched them laughing together.

Shadows beneath my siblings' feet began to swirl and I hauled in a deep breath to prepare. Claws emerged from the shadows, scratching and scraping at their clothes and skin. Though I knew I would never win I tried to run, faster than I ever could but never seemed to get closer as the floor seemed to become treadmill-like. Eventually, my shadow sunk its claws into my arms, holding me back, locking me in place so I had to watch as the claws drew blood, splashing in rivulets on the floor, as it all mixed into one growing pool.

Alec's face was painted with determination as he tried to grab his siblings and Parabatai though his calves and ankles were shredded. Jaces was one of horror as it dawned on him that he couldn't save them. Izzy was in shock as she clambered to hold little Max and lift him away from the horror. Max was pure terror, the pain on his childish features as shadows morphed around his body and ripped his body into ribbons of flesh and muscle. I couldn't move, I was paralysed by the sight and no amount of willpower could make me escape as the shadows screeched taunts of my fauliure.

My jaw ached, my chest convulsing, with the scream of anguish, pain, loss and anger, red hot tears scorching my face like lava.

"Y/N! Y/N please." Izzy's voice called to me through the screams, a fresh wave of pain dousing me and taking my breath. Her shouts seemed to unlock my senses as the stench of blood and suffering filtered through as the fight seemed to leave my siblings' bodies. My knees caved under me, stopping me from getting closer to save them.

"Y/N," Alec's voice was gentle and calm, an awful contrast to the bare bone on his arms and the tortured look on his face. "You're safe, you're okay, just come back." I shook my head as dark rivers of blood oozed from his mouth, lips moving in time with the voice. I couldn't squeeze my eyes shut as their eyes started to dull and they sank to the floor in the huge puddle. "Come on, wake up, we're here." The reassurance echoed in my ears despite the dead eyes of my four siblings staring up at me.

I knew this wasn't real, but it seemed like it was. From the expressions of pain, the way they fought to protect each other and the way their life force seemed to drain before me. But, my siblings were shouting for me, calling me back to them, back to the land of the living.

"Y/N, you're scaring me." I struggled in the direction of Max's voice, towards my baby brother who sounded as if he was on the verge of breaking. Slowly but surely, feeling started to seep back into my body. The bed around me dipped with the weight of the four of them. I could tell by each touch who was where and it warmed my heart. Izzy's fingers were laced with mine, Jace sitting near my legs with a hand on my calf, Alec's Hand brushed my hair from my face and Max was just to my side, his small hands shaking my arm.

"I'm here little guy," my throat burned as I muttered to the child. "Didn't mean to scare you, Maxie, I'm here." He usually protested he was too old for the nicknames but right now he was a scared little boy and couldn't care less. I shakily slid myself up so I could face him and he buried himself in my chest. No matter how big he was, he had his moments where he was an ordinary child who got scared and sometimes just needed reassurance and a cuddle. I could never deny him that.

"It's okay, just a bad dream, I've got you." I lifted his chin, wiping his tears before he shuffled to lay beside me with his face on my chest and little arms wrapped around me. I couldn't tell if this was comfort for him or me but nonetheless, it was more than welcome. We all waited patiently for him to settle down, hiccups fading into long deep breaths and muscles relaxing as he went back to his own dreamland. I wouldn't talk about it in front of him whilst he was awake, id scared him enough for one night.

Once I was certain he was sleeping, I let out a long shaky breath, staring up at the ceiling as tears filled my eyes.

"Hey," Jace cooed, his thumb rubbing my calf to comfort me. "You're okay now." My chest ached as a few tears fell, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. "Shadows again?" I nodded silently before opening my eyes.

"It seemed so real, it was awful. I knew it wasn't real but it seemed like it was." I shuddered, trying not to jostle Max too much. "Guessing I woke you guys up?" I already knew the answer, and judging by the movement in the hallway they weren't the only ones I had woken up.

"I heard you and woke Jace and Alec, it was worse than usual," Izzy admitted with a small smile. "Max heard us rushing in and followed us. He refused to leave until he knew you were okay." Her words melted my heart a little and I smiled down at his sleeping form.

"Every time, no matter what I try, I can't save any of you. I'm not strong enough, not good enough to fight them off and every time I watch the life drain from you, it's like I lose a piece of myself." My head pounded as I tried to hold in my sobs, comforted by the feeling of them around me. "I'm so sorry I woke you all up." I knew it wouldn't be the last time it happened but I still hated disturbing their sleep.

"You are good enough Y/N, you can't help what you dream about. You'll always be good enough." Alec's voice was tight, as though he was holding back his own emotions and I smiled up at him, taking hold of his hand with a squeeze. "You don't have to apologise for waking us, we're always here for you no matter what time of day it is, just like you always have been for us." I nodded and pressed a kiss to Max's head as the effects of my dream caught up with me, making me slump in exhaustion and stifle a yawn.

"I think we're gonna stay the night. Max isn't for shifting and you might sleep better with us here. Plus, I'm comfy now." I peered down at Izzy as she huddled under my arm and rested on my shoulder. I didn't mind them staying, my bed was sure big enough for a cuddle pile and I wouldn't complain about the company or warmth. We all scooted around getting comfy, my head lay against Alec who curled up on my other side, Max resting against us both and Jace manoeuvred himself to lay against my thigh without being kicked in the head by Izzy.

"I think I could do with the cuddles." I joked, huffing out a small laugh as sleep started to take hold. "Y'know I would do anything for you guys, right? You're my family and I love you all so much."

"We know Y/N," Izzy whispered sleepily. "We love you so much too. "

#shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #the mortal instruments imagines #shadowhunters imagines #lightwood siblings #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine

27 notes · View notes