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illusioninfnty · 7 months

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day 16 ; toys

↠ nami x reader

fandom: one piece word count: 1.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, fem!reader, sub!reader, nipple clamps, vibrator, fingering

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You never expected to join up with the Straw Hat Pirates, but after some thorough convincing from Luffy, you didn’t hesitate to accept his offer. It was all worth it though, because it led you to meeting your girlfriend, Nami.

Speaking of your girlfriend, you were eagerly awaiting her arrival back on the Going Merry, as she told you she was going to get you a surprise as a departure from the island you were on.

“And what are you doing over here?” Usopp approaches you from where you stand, looking for Nami by the village’s entrance.

You sigh, knowing what he was going to start doing. Usopp was always teasing you about how much you were head over heels for Nami.

“Yes?” You ask, unamused.

A smirk crosses Usopp’s face. “Oh, nothing,” he starts in a singsong tone. “Just wondering what’s so important for you to be waiting over here so eagerly.” He mimics you in a high pitched voice. “Oh, no, wherever has my dear Nami gone? I can’t do anything without her!”

“Hey!” You smack his shoulder. “I do not sound like that.”

“It’s exactly what I hear from you.” Zoro opens an eye, clearly only pretending to sleep to hear you get ragged on.

“Leave her alone you brute!” Sanji yells from behind the bar. “A lady should never be teased for her romantic affections!”

While Sanji was well-intended, his comment made you blush even more. Although the whole crew knew you and Nami were together, you were a naturally reserved person and having all of your personal business out there like that was quite embarrassing.

Zoro rolls his eyes and goes back to “sleeping.”

“Don’t worry! Nami will be back soon!” Your captain was oblivious as ever to the teasing of your crewmates.

You give him a small smile, ignoring the snickering from Usopp behind you. “Thanks, Luffy.”

You finally catch a glimpse of your girlfriend’s bright hair, and her satchel is clearly more stuffed than when she got off the ship. You weren’t going to question what methods she used to get them.

“Nami!” You run up to her and hug her, burying your face in her neck. She laughs and pulls you back into the ship. “I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me come along with you.” You pouted as she just laughed and squeezed your cheek. “You left me alone with these bozos.”

You hear a faint hey! come from Usopp before Nami shuts the door to your room.

“Well, I had a surprise that I wanted to get for you.” Nami begins to remove her satchel. “Something I want us to try right now.”

She begins to remove the new items from her satchel. All of them are unfamiliar to you, varying in different shapes, sizes, and colors. You pick up a chain with what looks like two clothespins attached to each hand.

“This—” she moves her hand under your shirt, caressing your breasts. “Attaches to these.” Her fingertips ghost your nipples, now hard and pressing against the fabric of your top.

“Oh.” Your heart flutters widely in your chest. Nami and you have done some exploring in the past, but all of it has been simple and sweet, with no use from toys like the ones she had scattered across her bed.

Nami tugs at the bottom of your shirt, and you lift up your arms, allowing her to take it off you with ease. It causes your breasts to spill out and Nami throws your shirt aside to palm them as she lowers to kiss you.

You close your eyes and lean your body into the kiss, relishing in the softness of your girlfriend’s lips on yours. Suddenly cool metal meets your nipples. You jolt from the shock of the temperature change and the unexpected pressure put on them. When you look down, you see that Nami has attached each side of the clamps to your chest. You couldn’t really describe the feeling that they gave you

“That feels,” you start as Nami moves you to lay on the bed, “really good.” She places you on your back, crawling on top of you. You see her reach for something else, what looks like a long, thick wand.

She notices your curious stare. “It’s called a vibrator,” she answers your unspoken question. “I’m sure you can figure out what it does.” She clicks a button at the base and the object starts vibrating, a low buzzing sound coming from it.

Nami tugs on the clamps gently, causing you to arch your back into her and gasp. “I don’t like how I’m the only one without a shirt on,” you tease. She laughs and uses her free hand to tug off her tank top. She lowers herself to kiss you again, her breasts providing a warmth the clamps don’t give you.

Nami begins to trail kisses down your jaw, to your neck, and eventually your chest. She bites hard around your breasts, sure to leave hickeys behind. You moan from the pleasure, until she moves down to your nipples.

“Oh, fuck!” The harsher tug as she grabs onto them has your lower half throbbing even more, the heat and wetness becoming more noticeable.

Nami moves her hand down your shorts and underwear, playing with your wet folds. “You ready?”

You reply with an enthusiastic nod.

She pulls down your undergarments, leaving you fully nude. She takes the vibrator in her hand and places it right on your clit. The pleasure draws out a long string of whines from you.

Nami grins. “You like it?” She applies more pressure and you gasp from the action.

“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, bucking your hips closer to her. “Need it,” you moan. Your arms flail looking for stability. You manage to grasp onto Nami’s arm, the one currently not teasing you. “Nami!” You moan out. Your body writhes in need, a wanton moan leaving your lips.

“Aww.” Nami coos, but you can hear the smile in her voice. “Poor baby, can’t handle it?”

“S-shut up,” you manage to moan out.

She laughs and begins to tease you with her fingers. The vibrations from the toy and Nami’s fingers curling in you, hitting spots that make you see stars, is more than you can stand. It doesn’t take you long to reach your end.

Nami brings her fingers, glistening with your release, up to mouth and licks them clean. As you pant heavily, feeling the aftereffects of your orgasm, she kisses your cheek.

“Did so well for me.” You can’t help the heat that rises to your face.

“But we're not done just yet.” Nami bares her teeth in a playful smile. “There’s still more toys we need to get through.”

You quiver in anticipation for what’s to come.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #one piece #one piece x reader #nami x reader #one piece smut #opla x reader #opla nami x reader #opla nami #one piece live action #one piece live action x reader

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yandere-sins · 1 year

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Elusive Choices

a/n: The new information about Kaveh gave me some ideas, so I wrote them out. This is as wholesome as it gets when you’re shared between these two, I guess :P

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairings: Yandere!Alhaitham x GN!Reader x Yandere!Kaveh Warnings: Yandere, Reader is nakey just because, Darling Mistreatment (Not taking care of them, starving them, being selfish), Jealousy, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Forced Relationship, Hints of Stockholm Syndrom

"Where's Kaveh?"

You didn't like the somewhat indifferent tone of voice or the strange man speaking to you.

Shrugging your shoulders, you pulled the blanket back over them, tightening the fabric around your naked body, but refused to come out of your corner and face the uncaring roommate of your captor. The very same man who didn't care what happened to you even though you crawled to him pleading for help when he first showed up. He had merely pulled his leg away from your desperate grasp and left after telling Kaveh to not make more of a mess than he was already making in his house, and that was that.

"Well?"

Your shrug was not a sufficient answer to the man you knew as 'Alhaitham'. You only knew his name because Kaveh, your captor, the bane of your existence, regularly screamed it through the halls before going on a tirade about this and that. And once he was done, he'd come back cooing and reaching for you, either telling you about something great that happened that day—like a new project, or how Kaveh helped yet another scammer by buying stuff he didn't need—or letting the rest of his frustration out on you after you refused to greet him like a touch-starved puppy waiting for its owner to return.

"I don't know," you muttered into the blanket, shivering a little. Your breath felt cold as it bounced off from the piece of cloth wrapped around you. Whenever you were left alone, you were locked into Kaveh's room without a fire to keep you warm or food and water so your body could do its job properly. Considering this, perhaps you were even less respected than a pet. But Kaveh simply didn't care to remember to make sure you had everything you needed despite locking you up like a prisoner. Now that he had you, his object of obsession, he was as careless and oblivious as only someone as eccentric as both of them could be.

"He doesn't tell you where he goes or when he'll be back?"

Shaking your head, you finally glanced up at Alhaitham, surprised to find a scowl on his face, his arms crossed as his eyes narrowed in anger. "What are you even doing here all day?"

Another shrug, and this time when you tightened the blanket around you, Alhaitham huffed, shaking his head and turning on his heel. You watched as he left the room, but to your surprise, the wood didn't lock behind him, staying wide open. Blinking, you stared at the unlocked door, a rare sight. A hint of freedom.

Your back straightened, and you scrambled to free your arm from the blanket, pulling yourself up at the footrest of the bed. On cold feet, you tiptoed over the just as icy ground towards the opening, spying outside into the hallways and living room area. This house was not a home to you, but it certainly felt lived in with all the papers and books around, the occasional cup left behind empty after another study session.

As you snuck through the hallway, you heard the clanking of pots and utensils from the kitchen, but your eyes locked onto something much more interesting than even the tightening of your stomach, hunger making it rumble.

The front door.

It was somewhat crazy to think you'd be stepping outside the house completely naked, only covered in a blanket. But the moment you'd be out in the late afternoon sun, you knew your frozen joints would melt, and you'd be flying down the streets of Sumeru City without looking back.

Clutching the blanket with one hand, you reached out the other, your fingers grazing over the doorknob with an unreal excitement about what awaited you outside. Freedom. No more torture to endure. No more waiting out the days for someone to come home. You'd be free and warm and free. And you'd live your life better, knowing now how much worse it could be. You'd make choices you've been too afraid of making because, after experiencing hell, nothing so small could scare you anymore. But before all of this, you'd simply stand in the sun, letting its rays caress your skin with their warmth and allow yourself to realize the horror was over.

"Don't even try it," Alhaitham's voice shattered your hopes. You hadn't even noticed him stepping out of the kitchen, and you considered dismissing his words. He was still a few steps away, his hands occupied by bowls filled with something steaming from the inside, spoons sticking out of them.

"It's locked."

But just like that, he ruined it. With his matter-of-factly voice, there was no room for doubting him. If he said it was locked, you knew it was. He locked it. Alhaitham wasn't the type to make reckless mistakes, and while he didn't seem to benefit from your presence, he wasn't about to help you either... for some reason.

"Come," he merely dismissed what had just happened, stepping by you and walking over to the living room couches, finding himself a free spot amongst stacks of books and documents. Frozen in place, you stood still and hopeless, your hand slowly falling to your side before you began to twist your body around painfully slow, your eyes still fixed on the doorknob. Prying them off it, you followed Alhaitham and the hearty smell of home-cooked soup with your gaze, nose in the air, and stomach rumbling. Watching as he dipped his spoon inside the bowl, blowing on it before having a taste.

He only glanced in your direction as you stepped up to him before nodding his chin toward the second bowl on the table in front of him. There was barely any place to sit, Alhaitham occupying the only free space available, so you sank down at his feet in front of the bowl. You had been put in much more shameful positions than eating at someone's feet since you came here, and after your failed escape, you were sure it wouldn't be the last time.

Scooping up the bowl, it was warm to the touch, unfreezing your cold hands while you slowly slipped the spoon between your icy lips, tears warming your cheeks as the flavors danced over your tongue. Sometimes Kaveh ate while he was outside, so there would be days when you got nothing besides water after his return. And if you asked for something, he barely put in the effort unless Alhaitham made a snide, underhanded remark about how shitty his cooking was. For someone who said he cared, his priorities were really messed up. And though he said he loved you, Kaveh didn't make you feel like your well-being was a priority for him at all.

A tissue poked your cheek as you sniffled into your almost empty bowl. You took it from Alhaitham's patiently waiting hand, surprised to have him scoop the empty ceramic out of your palm so you could wipe your face before he handed you his portion too. "You're stomach's still grumbling," he noted factually as you hesitated to take even more of his generosity than you already had.

However, with a sense of shameful awareness overcoming you that you were yearning for more of what he was offering, you accepted the food, eating his left-over soup as well.

"You know," he mumbled, watching you with a keen interest in his eyes which were fixated on every one of your movements. "I can treat you so much better than he does."

Your movements halted as you registered his words, the soup turning sour on your tongue. You had to force it down with a heavy gulp as tension raked its claws through you. Alhaitham never had many emotions when he spoke, but his words still rushed goosebumps over your skin. His words were true, like facts. Alhaitham checked in on you every day, even if it was just to see if you were still there.

You knew because Kaveh complained about Alhaitham entering his room when he wasn't home. And you knew because you caught him more than once checking if you were okay and tugging you back in while you pretended to be asleep. You often heard his steps halt in front of Kaveh's door before they went away again after a brief and quiet pause. But hearing him point this out rang alarm bells in your head as you sat by his feet. They urged you to be cautious, wary. To stay away. So far, he never went out of his way to provide for you like he did that day, coaxing you into sitting close by him, at his feet. Vulnerable.

He could take better care of you than Kaveh. He proved that much.

Kaveh was selfish, but was Alhaitham any better?

Lowering your bowl to the table, your appetite ceased to exist despite your body wishing you'd have a little more delicious soup. But you couldn't even swallow when Alhaitham dug his finger underneath your chin, hooking it in your jaw just enough to force you to follow his directions until your gaze met his eyes. Eyes that scared you almost more than the situation you were in.

"You want to be free, don't you? You can stay with me and have all the freedom to do what you want. Where I go, you go. I can buy you everything you want, make sure you eat, and give you a warm place to sleep. All I ask in return is that you study what I give you and help me with my projects. That's a fair deal, isn't it? The choice is yours."

An inkling of doubt screamed in the back of your head that this was wrong. That this still wasn't the freedom you desired. That he still, selfishly—just like Kaveh—was trying to bind you to him for some reason. You couldn't read it from his face if it was the same obsessive desire as his roommate, but something dark was brewing in his mind. Kaveh let his emotions show when he spoke, but Alhaitham remained unreadable. And yet you knew that his intentions were far from pure as well.

But it's been a long time since you had a choice.

Anything was better than Kaveh. And yet, you couldn't help but shiver uncontrollably as you gulped again, slowly nodding into his finger, still digging into your jaw.

"Ok," you whispered shakily, and Alhaitham nodded once, firmly.

Sliding his hands underneath your arms, you remembered you were naked beneath the blanket as it slid open while Alhaitham pulled you on his lap. Immediately, shame flooded your body, but if he minded, he didn't say anything. He forced your head against his chest, gently but assertively stroking down the back of your head before letting out a shuddering breath.

"Finally," he muttered, and you had no idea what he meant by that when suddenly, the sound of keys rattling against the front door made you tense up.

"Make sure you tell him what you want clearly," Alhaitham advised you, strictly, like a teacher. But his hand gently rubbing your back didn't cease to be tender, encouraging. And when you glanced up, for the first time, you saw a smile jerking the corners of his lips upwards, excited and satisfied with your choice.

"I'm home!" Kaveh yelled happily through the house, and Alhaitham's grin widened.

You remembered the bad feeling you had before accepting his conditions, and realization dawned on you—there never was a right choice.

Because the moment Kaveh scanned the wide open space of the living areaAlhaitham's room, his expression falling as if he saw a ghost, you knew you had only trapped yourself more. Trapped between eccentrics. Between challenges and love. Trapped between an obsessive lover and a possessive one. And you were the only one unaware that their fixation had always been on you.

They just went about entirely different ways to finally make you theirs.

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 2 months

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REWATCHING GO S1, LIVE PLAY-BY-PLAY OF DOOMSDAY WAHOO

HELLO MAGGOTS REWATCHING SEASON 1 BECAUSE THE FIRST TIME WAS A KIDNAPPING CHAOTIC MESS. EPISODE ONE HERE GOES. I DON'T REMEMBER A LOT OF DETAILS BUT YES.

Opening scene and Earth's got vibe-checked by God and I've been gaslit about the dinosaurs

GARDEN OF EDEEEEEN wow his first appearance and Aziraphale's already so prissy and flustered might fuck around and fall in love with him idk

I finally understand who these mf's are hi Hastur and Ligur you're not zombies after all

FOR FUCK'S SAKE SECOND SCENE CROWLEY'S BEEN IN AND SHE WALKED IN, SERVED HIPS HAIR AND CUNT, AND THEN MANAGED TO TALK HER AWAY INTO A PROBLEM

LIKE GENUINELY SHE COMES AND SASHAYS WITH HER HAIR AND SAYS TIMES ARE CHANGING AND HEAD OFFICE LOVES ME AND JUST INSTANTLY HASTUR AND LIGUR USE HER WORDS AGAINST HER

idk sister mary loquacious is kinda doing it for me rn with that satanic nun's habit and losergirl energy

third crowley scene and he's misplaced THE LITERALLY GODDAMNED ANTICHRIST because he made small talk with a bloke outside without checking for details

mmmmhm yes sister mary wink again your bitchless decisions are sexy y'know what i mean

Gabriel feels like his brain was eviscerated and replaced with one of those youtuber's paid course promos at the end of their how to change your life in 45 days: three simple mindset shifts video

so THIS IS WHY EVERYONE KEEPS SAYING PAVLOVIAN IN THIS FANDOM IT'S BECAUSE OF DUCKS of course it's because of ducks

mmmhm yes sure crepes French revolu--Crowley stop eye-fucking Aziraphale you're making everyone at the Ritz horny

Aziraphale don't moan into your food man you can't take these two anywhere

Crowley thanking the driver for slowing down is everything to me

And they're drunk hu-fucking-zzah good thing we'll have 11 year olds saving the world coz these fuckers sure ain't doing shit

OH MY GOD HE WAS TRYING TO SAY BOUILLABAISSE I JUST REALISED. I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST MAKING KISSY FACES AT AZIRAPHALE I'M NOT OK-

What Aziraphale was doing back was definitely kissy faces though that mfer wasn't even trying to say bouillabaisse when Crowley said what sounded suspiciously like baby

kissy kissy from lil miss prissy [i would have made such a great high school bully shame i had no inclinations that way]

SORRY WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK WAS THAT SOBERING UP EXCUSE ME THE FANFICS MADE IT SOUND LIKE IT WAS A CLICK AND THEY'RE SUDDENLY NORMAL WHY IS THE ALCOHOL REFILLING

oop nun down nun down

i want ya see a wile ya thwart amirite on a t-shirt

"actually i encourage humans to-" just say you're a lazy bitch azi we love you

love crowley fake-manipulating azi into helping like azi wants to be manipulated y'know so it's not technically his fault he was wiled over or whatever and they're both just such ENABLERS

not azi going SOFT at being godfathers with crowley

NOT BROTHER FRANCIS PLEASE NO FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED AZI WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS PLEASE

WARLOCKKKKK I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

HNNNG MICHAEL SHEEN HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS

why is nanny ashtoreth so seductive with that of course dear is it just crowley's inherent disastergirl sex appeal

HALF PONYTAIL CROWLEY I AM A FUCKING SLUT FOR HALF PONYTAIL

GASLIGHTING HEAVEN AND HELL THAT'S MY BABYGIRLS

erIC THE DISPOSABLE DEMON I DIDN'T KNOW THEY COME IN S1 well not come i hope unless being eaten by a hellho--nope

ANGEL CROWLEY SAID ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL

CROWLEY TRYING TO BE SUBTLE ABOUT KILLING BEFORE GETTING ANNOYED

waiter crOWLEY OUTFIT I CANNOT BE NORMAL AFTER THE WEDDING DRESS DESIGNING ABOUT THIS COSTUME

FOOLS WRONG BOY YOU FOOLS IM DEAD

DOG IS UNIRONICALLY SO CUTE EVEN BEFORE IT GOES SMOL

gonna give my roxie a kissy brb she's my angel and all this dog talk makes me miss her (she's a few feet away under the bed)

i asked her for a kissy and she crawled out and gave me a kiss i love her

DOGGGGG ADAMMM

...roxie's crying to be taken downstairs it's nearly 2 am this is on me for waking her up i crowley'd myself fml

EYYYYY WELCOME TO THE END TIMES don't mind me I'll have to take roxie down yes I know maggots I'm crowley-coded I KNOW THAT I'M A BLOODY DISASTER BYEEEEEEEE

#good omens mascot #good omens #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #good omens fandom #good omens season 1 #in the beginning #WAHOO #OK GTG TAKE MY DOG DOWNSTAIRS AT 1:45 IN THE MORNING #THE CROWLEY LIFE #IT'S HARD WORK BEING THE RESIDENT DISASTER #BUT SOMEONE'S GOTTA DO IT

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waywardmateo · 2 months

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First time posting my work, here goes.

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Late Night Reading

Alastor x incubus!reader

|| I like the concept of Al paired with an incubus, something about a canonically asexual gentleman paired with a sex demon just allows for the latter to realize that they're worth more than just their body and work through some underlying trauma in a relationship where they're under no pressure to put out. It tickles my brain.

That aside, since an incubus is a male sex demon the reader will be read as masc/gn. I might be persuaded to write for a succubus reader at some point, but since the fandom is so diluted with content directed mainly towards cis women I just want to see more content for masc and gender neutral readers.

The neon lights never blinked out in Lust, the dirty corners of the city illuminated softly by its bright façade. Light pollution was at such a high potency that one wouldn't be able to make out a star in the crimson sky. It was dingy, filled to the brim with a type of secluded filth that stewed just beneath the surface of the buzzing neon lights and the hushed, dirty whispers in the ears of lovers.

A back door creaked open, and you all but spilled into the alleyway. Clutching the railing beside the doorframe not unlike a sinner clutches a rosary, your knees buckled and you retched over the edge of the stairs. Gasping—choking on your own bile as tears pricked your eyes—you dragged yourself onto wobbly legs and proceeded down the steps. Two at a time, almost desperate to get away from something.

You grasped your bag tighter as you walked past the front of the building, past the throngs of people clamoring to get admitted. The bright lights blinked out one word. Ozzie's.

You hadn't intended to end up dancing at Ozzie's. The only other work for an incubus in Lust was, well. Better to not think about it. It made your skin crawl.

Rats scuttled past you as you made your way to the station, gripping your bag like a vice. You stepped onto the train headed for the Pride ring, shouldering past the crowds of other hellborn and finding a seat by the window. You stuffed your bag under the seat and tried to unwind.

The night had been worse than most. Hands ghosting over your body, forcing sour fingers in your mouth, grabbing your great curling horns, stuffing dollar bills down your pants. You shivered, the acid bile scalding your throat threatening to make a reappearance.

Patrons treated you like a wind up toy they could crank up and let run until it subsequently ran itself immobile.

Best not to think of it now. You leaned your head against the window and stared out into Hell's swirling cherry-colored night sky.

You sigh, the breath condensing as it hit the window. The train rattles on almost soothingly. Every so often someone is let off at a stop, the brakes squealing to a halt.

—————————————————————————————————————————

Around the fifth stop or so, you step off the train. Bag in hand, you slowly approach the large, looming hotel. You falter before reaching out to push open the door.

It was only supposed to be a couple of nights. You were at your lowest, evicted from your apartment after being laid off from your job in Pentagram City. You had approached the hotel with a few crumpled dollar bills in your hand, but the Princess refused to take them. Despite your inability to be rehabilitated or redeemed due to your being hellborn, she still let you stay rent free at her hotel. You hated feeling that you owed her, so you constantly offered yourself to be at her complete disposal. She always declined.

You always did the dishes to make yourself feel better for being a leech, anyhow.

Tonight, you quietly ventured past the foyer. Nobody should have been awake, but the crackle of radio static immediately alerted you to the presence of another demon. You halted, a cold shiver running down your spine. The white noise only intensified.

Alastor sat in the armchair, legs crossed. He was without his overcoat and his staff was propped up against the sofa. He was leaning forward, his face resting against the heel of his palm as he gazed at you. His monocle hung loosely against his chest, and there was a book in his lap. It was almost as if he were expecting you, waiting for you.

"Oh, dear. This won't do, sneaking around at night, hmm?"

His voice held a sharp implication.

"I wasn't sneaking," you protested. "I was at work."

"Ah, I'm sure you were, my dear." He said it absently, like he didn't quite believe you. His voice carried across the room easily, creating an ambience of white noise and radio static that eased you up only slightly.

"What're you doing this late at night, anyhow?" You turn the accusatory tone back at him.

"Ah, reading. I've been known to enjoy a good book or two." Alastor chuckles.

You sat down on the sofa across him.

"Okay..."

"You seem awfully tired."

"Yes, I was at work."

"Tea?"

You paused. Weighing his offer with some skepticism.

"What blend, the blood of your enemies?"

"Aha, very funny. Chamomile."

He offered you a teacup. Still warm. Almost as if he knew you were coming.

You took it gingerly, almost as if it might explode. You've learned to fear him, but tonight he seemed almost docile.

You held the teacup in shaking hands. Alastor notices.

"What seems to be the matter, my dear?"

The fireplace crackled in the background against the sound of radio waves as you thought carefully over your response.

"I'm just tired, is all."

"Hmm."

You took a sip of tea to lengthen the silence. It soothed your burning throat a bit.

"Wonderful talk. Well, I'm headed off to bed, I suppose I'll see you in the morning, [Name]."

You nod once.

After seemingly taking a moment to contemplate, Alastor stood up and took hold of his staff. He turns to you, taking your hand, and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"Sleep well, my dear."

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Thank you so much for your notes! Especially on my first work.

Blessed be <3

-M

#alastor x reader #hazbin x you #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hellaverse #fanfic #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #mateo.txt

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fandom-hyperfixation · 10 months

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𝗗 𝗥 𝗘 𝗔 𝗠 𝗜 𝗡 𝗚

Summary: You had a dream but unfortunately there was a misunderstanding.

Characters: Valtor x Reader (she/her) / Bloom

Words: 1091

Warnings: Implied smut/Nsfw, some spice but nothing detailed. Cuddling with a friend. Secret relationship. Enemy to lovers. Kind of betrayal. (Please let me know if I should add anything)

A/n: Hey Ho. Well, this is only the second fandom for which I post fanfiction and I haven’t written for a while. And my native language is not English, so please forgive me for any mistakes and it was more of a spontaneous idea I had. Please just don’t expect a Jane Austen novel. (I'm not nervous, you are xD) Okay, I’ll stop talking now and just hope that at least one person will kind of enjoy this here. Have a great day/evening/night.

"Y/N! Hey, Y/N, wake up. You’re having a nightmare." The voice of bloom breaks through the wonderful dream you just had.

"Y/N, come on, please, you have to wake up, it’s all right, I’m here, it’s just a bad dream."

Confused, you slowely open your eyes but the second after you closed them again, blinded by the bright light of the lid lamp.

"Ugh," escapes your mouth while you press your face into the pillow.

"Y/N, finally! Everything is fine." Bloom’s deliberate calming words only add to your confusion. More carefully this time you turn your head to look at her.

The brightness lets small tears shimmer in your eyes, quickly you try to blink them away.

"What’s the matter?" you ask without really opening your mouth but Bloom understood you anyway.

She carefully puts a hand on your cheek, stroking a tear from your skin with her thumb. "Hey, don’t cry. Everything's okay, it was just a nightmare, don’t worry, Valtor’s not here."

Suddenly your eyes widen, "What? Valtor?" Your voice sounds nervous as you're pushing yourself up to sit, capturing her gaze with your own.

"Hey, I told you everything was okay. It was just a bad dream. You called Valtor’s name in your sleep, I can understand it, I often dream about him. But we’re with you, we protect each other, don’t worry."

The Guardian of the Dragon Flame moved closer to hug you. Still overwhelmed you let it happen, placing your head on her shoulder.

You can’t find the right words to get yourself out of this uncomfortable situation. And the only option you have is to play along and just agree.

You close your eyes, still not accustomed to the brightness and two more small tears roll over your cheeks, your chin and finally land on Bloom’s arm.

Your friend sighs, "Back a little, I can sleep next to you, maybe we’ll both dream better."

In your head you hear the laughing of the lord of evil. He's laughing at you for this situation. Gloatingly, teasingly.

You nod indecisively but at the same time shake your head to banish the magician from your thoughts, which rather ends in a strange circular movement.

The fairy lets you go and crawls behind you on the bed, patting on the mattress next to her and slowly you lie down.

With a snap, the light goes out. Bloom approaches you, wraps an arm around you before snuggling up to you.

You grab her hand to cross your fingers with hers.

"Try to sleep a bit more, I’m here now," she whispered.

Your heart is racing incessantly as you can do nothing but nod again, it has absolutely taken your breath away.

For the next few minutes it is quiet, you do not dare to move. Not until you are aware of the regular breath of the fairy. She fell asleep.

You sigh and are sure that your cheek must be red like a tomato from shame.

Your mind worked at full speed to realize and process the things that have just happened. You must summon all self-control to avoid giggling. At the same time, however, you feel your guilty conscience eating through your body, burying cell by cell.

Your friends were always there for you, they helped you every second without asking questions, they trusted you blindly, just like you trusted them. They made every effort to protect and support you.

You all had nightmares about all the things you had to go through and survive. But since Valtor came into your lives, everything has gotten worse. Hardly anyone can sleep for a whole night. Hardly anyone can dream of anything beautiful.

Hardly anyone can feel something like true joy.

But while all your friends were plagued with nightmares and are not allowed to have a careless second because of the dark wizard, he is the reason that you can sleep well. That you still feel something like satisfaction or happiness and can forget all that terrible things for a moment.

It was pure irony.

While they all suffered because of the wizard, every night you dream of his hands gliding over your entire body when you sneaked out of Alfea to meet him in the cloud tower again. How his lips invade every spot of your body, leading you into another dimension. How his rough voice sounds musically in your ears when he groans your name or tells you how perfect you are for him. How his hot breath flits over your skin when you lie in front of him on the desk. How he makes you feel as good as no other has done before.

What was your dream, was their nightmare.

What became your joy, became their sadness.

What deprived them of all their powers was what made you feel more alive than ever.

Valtor was their curse, but he was your blessing.

The more you thought about it, the more your mind became weary. And as soon as your eyes closed, you were back at the sport you were before Bloom woke you up.

In a storeroom in the cloud tower, without clothes, while the magician knelt in front of you, throwing your head back in pleasure.

***

In the cloud tower, Valtor laughed deeply as he turned his gaze away from the sphere through which he had observed you and your friend.

He could hardly wait to make you blush with the events of today and evoke your shy side the next time you would come to him, your enemy, to wind under him in passion.

He had taken off his coat and pulled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Sitting in the big desk chair he turned in a semicircle. He looked through the large windows of Miss Griffin’s office into the dark night. Then he leaned back, closing his eyes as well before mentally diving into the same memories you are exploring.

This little fairy had fallen for him, just like he had fallen for her.

Thanks for reading. 💚

#winx club #winx club fanfiction #winx club valtor #valtor fanfiction #valtor smut #valtor x reader #winx club valtor x reader #winx club villains #winx club bloom

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ofstarsandvibranium · 8 months

Text

To Have & To Hold: Part 8

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you’re always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don’t necessarily hate Marc, but you don’t get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

A/N: sorry it's been a while...

Series Masterlist

The sun was going down and you and Marc were headed back to your place. You two were sufficiently tired. Out of the handful of venues you checked out, there were two that you were torn between: a vineyard and a Victorian ballroom.

When you and he entered your home, you kicked off your shoes and tossed your stuff to the side, "I'm too tired to cook. I'm ordering takeout. Do you want me to order anything for you?"

Marc moves to sit on your couch, "Whatever you pick should be fine. I'm not picky." He rests his feet on your coffee table.

"Sounds good!" you give him a thumbs up and head to the kitchen, "Do you want a beer?"

"Sure."

You turn to head to the kitchen, but stop when the doorbell rings. Your brows furrow in confusion, "Who's that?" You walk over to the door and opening it. No one was a vase full of flowers, "Huh?"

You pick it up, eyes catching a little card that reads: Congratulations on your engagement. See you soon. xo

"Who sent them?" Marc asks, resting a hand on your lower back.

You shrug, "Doesn't say." You close the door behind you and bring the flowers to your kitchen island. You set it in the middle and smile, "Whoever it was, they have a great taste in flowers." You turn to Marc with a smile, "These are my favorite."

He nods, "Yeah. I remember. You had your dad's gardener grow a patch of them in the front of your dad's."

You lean against the counter, a smirk on your face, "You remember a lot about me."

Marc shrugs, "Part of the job is observing and remembering certain details of people. Never know when it'll become useful." He's staring at you. His usual hard eyes now soft upon your gaze. He's glancing down at your lips and slowly leaning in.

You're leaning in too until you suddenly hear beeping coming from the flower vase.

Both of you turn and Marc immediately grabs the vase, rummaging through the flowers. It's staring up at him now...a bomb.

"Go! Run! Now!" he pushes you forward and you're running. He's right behind you and then a hot blast throws you forward. You hit your head hard on the ground, blurring your vision. You look back to see your kitchen blown to pieces and on fire.

Marc is near you, so you crawl over to him. A pool of blood is growing near his head, "No no no no! Marc!" You gently shake him, "Marc, please, wake up." He groans and you're grateful there's still sign of life, "Mar-" your words are cut off when a bag is pushed over your head and your hands are restrained behind your back.

"NO! GET OFF ME! GET-MARC! STEVEN! HELP!" your cries are unheard as Marc continues to lay unconscious. You're doing your best to kick and fight, but it's hard when you can't see. You're dragged away and thrown into a car. Your cries continue to be unheard.

"Enough!" a man yells and a blow to your face knocks you out instantly.

_________________________

"Wake up, Marc. WAKE UP!" Marc jolts awake and, for a moment, he's confused on where he is. He's surrounded by debris and he's on the ground.

He groans as he lifts his body up, his bones begging to lay back down. He goes to a kneel, leaning back on his feet and he's looking around.

Your home. Debris and blames surround him.

"Shit, shit, shit!" He rushes to a stand, roaring out your name, "Y/N?! Y/N?!" he looks around to not see you or hear a thing from you.

"Y/N?!" he hears another voice call out to you. Your dad.

Marc rushes to where the front door had been to see your dad at the steps.

"Marc...where-"

"She's not here," he pauses, trying to remember what happened prior. The flowers. The almost kiss. The bomb.

"Flowers. There were flowers delivered and a bomb was hidden inside," he shakes his head, "I should've been more careful. They took her while I was out."

"Who sent the flowers?" your father was surprisingly calm considering you were kidnapped.

"The card didn't say. Just congratulated her and said 'see you soon'."

Your dad runs a hand down his face, "We need to get you to a hospital."

Marc shakes his head, "No. I'm fine. We need to get started to looking for her."

"You're blee-"

"I'M FINE!" Marc shouts and then clenches his jaw when your dad cocks a brow at him, "I'm sorry, sir. It's just...you entrusted me with your daughter and because of my slip up, she got taken."

"I know, but I also know you'll do anything to get her back." He walks back towards his car, "Are you sure you're okay?" he looks at Marc with concern of a father.

"I am," Marc replies coldly.

___________________

You don't know how long you'd been out, but you were rudely awaken to your head being dunked in freezing cold water.

You gasp for air as your head was thrown away from the water, your vision clearing to see someone you weren't expecting to see.

"Harrow?"

"Hello, Sunshine."

Your father's former business partner and friend leaned against a rickety table. His usual cane gripped in his hand.

"I thought you were dead."

Harrow hums, "You'd think so from how your father brutally beat me to an inch of my life. But the old man couldn't deliver the final blow."

"What do you want? Why am I here?" your body is sore, you're tired. You just want to go home, back to Marc and Steven.

"You," he points at you, "My dear Sunshine, are my pawn in this game of life."

"Enough with the bullshit, Harrow. What. Do. You. Want?!"

"Everything," he hissed as he rushes to you, "Your father took everything from me."

You scoff, "After you tried to take everything from him? You're fucking delusional."

"His empire was supposed to be mine. But no, decided to promise it to that fucking Marc Spector."

"So how the hell do you think you can take my dad's empire from him?"

Harrow smirks, "Well Spector can't have the empire if he can't marry you."

#marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #steven grant imagine #steven grant x reader #mob au #marvel au #mafia au

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ruiniel · 6 months

Text

In Aeternum - II

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Relationship: Alucard x Reader

Count: 1.9k

Rating: M

Tags: Pining, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Dark Romanticism/style, Castlevania References, Reincarnation, Post-Castlevania 2017-2021, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, AFAB Reader, F!Reader, Herbalist Reader, Magic, References to Speakers, Creatures, Shapeshifting, Second Person POV, Adventure, Alternate Universe - canon divergence

Part I

Summary:

Alucard centered story, where his s/o in ~1476 is a herbalist who eventually dies of old age. Fast forward to the 1790s, Alucard stumbles into you: a herbalist and magician, with the same appearance of the one he knew long ago.

II.

You close the door behind you, wondering what had just happened, more than a little unsettled by the abrupt departure of your new acquaintance.

Why?

Another part of you is, in contrast, more than a little intrigued. It was as if he could sense your concern about the eavesdropping townsfolk, but that's not necessarily unusual if he's one versed in reading people. You lock the door still pondering on this, on how you nearly died today for the first time in a long while, on how fortuitous his presence had been.

The act of unwrapping the herbs and roots you collected then laying them to dry helps to quiet the mind and alleviate those constant, flowing questions. Somewhat.

You take your time, and the hour is late when you finally set to wash and change. Your feet hurt as you climb the old set of stairs leading to a cramped little attic room you use for a bedroom.

Crawling into bed, you notice the moon is still up in the sky, its silver face shining through the long, tilted window.

Bundling yourself in an old throw and lying on your side, you can’t shake the memory of a warm gloved hand helping you to your feet, and a lingering scent.

Lavender… the thought occurs, inescapable, the last as your eyes close.

That night, you dream of running through a shadowy forest to catch the dawn, your feet bare and dewy, chasing a white wolf and laughing as castle spires rise beyond ancient trees.

The next day passes, uneventful; as does the following, and the one after it. There are rumors and unrest seeping through the fabric of life as you and others know it, but for now, they amount to nothing more than words and sometimes worried, sometimes hopeful predictions.

There is but one certainty you feel in your bones as others do: change is coming.

You rub at the back of your head, then at your eyes, still nibbling on a crust of bread well past the time for a midday meal—your sales had never been bountiful, but in the past two years especially, they all but sank as prices soared and folk became more and more impoverished.

It’s not until late afternoon that you sigh, thinking to close up for the day, but not before there comes a knock on the window of the apothecary shop.

You turn, and smile without thought.

“Well met, Martin,” you open the door, meeting a pair of blue-green eyes.

“Miss,” the young man smiles back, “How did it go, today?”

“… so and so. And you?”

Martin shrugs, shaking his head. “Interest in poetry has dwindled, but the cobbling business still goes, for better or worse.”

Since you’ve known him, Martin has always kept a buoyant outlook on life and sees the full side of the glass no matter if it’s water or poison. And yet, he is no fool. It is, perhaps, one of the reasons he’s become your friend—of the few you boast in this place.

Even now, with his clothing ragged and the gauntness in his cheeks more prominent, he smiles at you.

“How is your father?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Oh,” his smile fades. “He’s been better, but the joint pain keeps hindering his movement, and—where are you going?”

“Wait here.” You’re gone inside only to return, producing a small jar. “I had this ointment freshly made yesterday. He can try massaging the sore area with this twice a day. It should alleviate some discomfort.”

Martin gazes down at your offering, his brown curls falling into his face; he looks uncomfortable. “I… you know I can’t pay for this,” he pushes your hands away.

“Martin, don’t.” You take his larger hand and press the glass receptacle into his palm. “I know, all right? Just take it.”

He looks down at your hand over his, features scrunching. “It should not be this way, you know. All of us, struggling to get by.” He looks up at you, all mirth gone from his face. “Have you eaten today?”

“Of course,” you smile now, but you know he’s right. Just as you know he came to see you now, before the end of your day, because he cares; and so do you, though perhaps not in the same way. “Go rest, Martin.”

“Only if you promise to do the same. And to ask once again that you don’t head out into that damned forest alone, as you used to. There's... been another disappearance. I heard about it at the tavern on my way—that’s what I came here to tell you. Be careful.”

Heart beating faster, you nod. “Of course, thank you, same goes to you.”

Half a crooked smile shows he’s satisfied—and with a last friendly nod, pressing the gifted ointment jar to his chest, he walks away. “Until tomorrow.”

“Until then…” your words fade in your mouth as you turn back inside, wondering what the world is coming to.

You remove your apron just as the door creaks, signalling an arrival.

“We’re closed for the day,” you say, placing the apron on a chair.

“Oh. Should I come by another time, then?”

You freeze. Your body jolts at the mere inflection of that voice, and slowly you turn, meeting his eyes.

Adrian stands there, unassuming, wearing black as usual, his long coat trimmed with yellow. He looks much too pale in this light, but then the ghostly allure does something for him. His face changes into a dim smile; his bright eyes are smiling too.

Running, barefooted… the wolf stares back, ensuring you follow.

You shake your head, realizing you’d been wordless for too long. “No, I’ll make an exception. I mean—for you, of course I will. Come, come,” you urge, going behind the counter and donning a near-professional manner. “Let’s see, then. What can I help you with today?”

Adrian nods, and only then steps forward, reaching inside his coat. He retrieves a piece of paper, showing it to you.

It looks yellowed with time and use, and you’re wary of touching it for fear the frail-looking parchment might disintegrate between your fingers.

But he’s handing it over with no apparent concerns and before your hesitation turns to embarrassment, you gingerly take the paper to glance at the etchings.

“Hmm… this script is...”

“Old?… Yes.”

You look up at him briefly, finding his gaze intent on the torn slip. “Valerian root,” you read the first word, turning to the shelf behind you. “... evening primrose,” you head over to another shelf, this time going around Adrian, your attention focused on the items. An unusual meld, and you wonder what kind of concoction this may be. “Bloodroot,” you say, frowning as you skim over the next item scrawled in a flowing hand. “... Frankincense.” You turn around, meeting the eyes of your last minute customer. “I don’t keep stock of this,” you add, but then the list does look quite out of sorts with everything else on there. It’s also very unlikely he wrote it, but you resist the urge to ask as you hand him back the note.

“No, of course not,” Adrian gently reaches for the paper and tucks it back inside his coat at his chest. “The rest will do.”

You nod, and after pulling on a glove, take the quantity required of bloodroot from one basket at your feet. You look down in earnest and carefully wrap the herbs and roots requested. The sun has dipped low enough to beam through the window, splashing light over your working fingers. You raise your head.

Sunset looks good on him, too; enhancing the shimmer in his hair, setting a pale flame to his eyes. “What spells are you up to, Mr. Țepeș?”

You smirk around your question. You don’t mean to be nosy, and it’s none of your business after all to know what strangers go about doing in their spare time. Even if said strangers are unreasonably strong shapeshifters that prevented your demise.

Too late to bite your tongue, anyway.

“Adrian, remember?”

Heat pulses through your body, warming your cheeks. “Adrian.”

Adrian shakes his head, and his face softens in another smile; one that comes easier this time, warmer and more sincere. “Nothing that should worry anybody,” he replies, sliding into an assured, simple manner. “Thank you.” And he reaches inside his pocket, at which point you realize he wants to pay and so begin shaking your head and wagging both index fingers at him.

Adrian regards you with owlish confusion, comical on his otherwise dramatic features.

“Please, no need,” you gesture for him to place his satchel on your small counter. “You saved my life, remember?”

Adrian pauses with his hand inside his coat, a bemused frown on his face. “... henceforth, I have earned an unlimited supply of free herbs?”

You scoff, “Well… why not? I mean, I... I suppose?”

He’s laughing before you know it, head falling back in delight; the sound is so unexpected, so lively and musical in this red sunset that your smile freezes on your face, and that feeling from the woods slithers right back between your ribs as if it never left. There is magic on him again. Something unrevealed. Its arcane flickers speed towards you and your own strength, recognizing another conductive vessel.

A glamor. You can’t quite grasp what it shields, but it lacks any form of malice, and so fails to worry you. For now.

You cross your arms as a strangeness rises at the back of your mind again, pulsing like something strong and familiar and warm, eager to break its bonds.

You’re staring as Adrian simmers, tilting his head slightly to one side with a contemplative air. “Forgive me, I am not laughing at you, it was… just the way you said it.”

“How about this?” You offer back the satchel. “Whenever you need supplies...” you add in a faux affected tone, “... henceforth, I’ll do my best to provide you with what I have on stock. Without charge.” Before he can protest, you add quickly, “My trade, my rules.”

Adrian retrieves the satchel you’ve filled with the herbs, bringing it over one shoulder. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know if that’s necessary, especially considering the proven risks you take to gather these.”

“Nonsense,” you say, foolish in your sudden excitement. Perhaps it’s the idea of being able to do something for him that has you so riled, so drunk on this exchange. Perhaps you’ve simply been lonely, and welcome the interaction. It makes you bolder, and before you know it, your traitorous tongue goes off. “Why did you leave so suddenly last time?”

Adrian taps a gloved finger on the wooden counter, his expression unchanged. “I… did not realize I had. I am sorry if I did. I truly am.”

You want the floorboards to swallow you whole. “There’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sorry it was not my intent to pry this way, I—”

The crash is so loud, so deafening, you lose balance, your back striking the shelves. Adrian rushes over and you grab at his arms to steady yourself against the pain as a second blast hits somewhere outside, causing the windows to shake.

“What now!?” You release him, turning to the door.

“Wait!”

You don’t hear him, cannot see the muted desperation on his face as you throw the door open, as you run into the street thinking of Martin and how he was on his way home, as flames burst to engulf you.

The last you see is red: red beams, red lightning, cutting between you and devouring fire.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

#needed to write something anything #alucard x reader #alucard castlevania x reader #adrian tepes x reader #alucard x you #castlevania x reader #castlevania x you #adrian tepes x you #castlevania imagine #x reader #ruiniel:fanfiction #castlevania alucard x reader

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late-to-the-magnus-archives · 1 year

Text

Pinned Fanfiction Post! Updated 4/11/24.

Fandoms:

The Magnus Archives

Malevolent (Podcast)

Deviser (Podcast)

I'm bad at updating this, my apologies! It's all on AO3, folks.

Latest:

The Magnus Archives:

One Six Zero Jonah knew what he'd chosen to do. He also knew he hadn't been chosen. AO3 || Tumblr

Malevolent (Note: all of these are complete):

They Both Just Gotta Be Dicks (Intermezzo spoilers): AO3 || Tumblr

All that Glitters (crack-fic one-shot): AO3 || Tumblr

Fragile (Intermezzo spoilers): AO3 || Tumblr

Double the Popcorn (Intermezzo spoilers): AO3 || Tumblr

God of Cowboys and Fools: AO3 || Tumblr

IN PROGRESS

MAGNUS ARCHIVES x MALEVOLENT CROSSOVER

CORRUPTED

Tim opened a book he shouldn't have, and now has the last remaining god in the universe stuck in his head. In the process of dealing with that, he will come up against invading deities, be marked by the Desolation, and turn—reluctantly—to the Magnus Institute for help. There is a lot going on here. Tim feels out of his league. He is. And lately, he's unnervingly certain that maybe, he should just burn it all down...

AO3 | Tumblr

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MALEVOLENT

NEVER TELL

Arthur and Bella Lester are not in love. They came together as friends, to protect each other, to give one another the freedom to live—and love—as they pleased. Having a child was supposed to be part of that—quieting the rumors, providing a shield. But it wasn’t one baby; it was two… and something is very wrong with their golden-eyed son.

AO3 | Tumblr

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MAGNUS ARCHIVES x MALEVOLENT CROSSOVER

JUST A LITTLE SIDE-QUEST

It is the Dark World. It is the place where all go when they die, from every world, from every timeline - and though they cannot die again, they can absolutely feel everything that happens to them. Jon, Martin, John, and Arthur will have to find their place here, all the while chasing Arthur's greatest desire: to someday find his daughter in the land of the dead. But first, they're going to have to figure out each other - and what to do about Kayne.

AO3 | Tumblr

FINISHED FICS:

(This is long, so under the cut they go.)

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES

AND EAT IT, TOO

The voice gets under his skin. Is it pleasing or terrifying? Inside his head or out? Is it even real, or is his still-human brain just cobbling monster-sounds into something he can comprehend? It’s impossible to get out of his head, whether literal or not. Doesn’t matter, though, because the answer Michael gives is a terrible one, and ends the same way: Gertrude could protect herself, Jon can’t, and he’s going to die for her sins.

Playlist available here.

AO3 | Tumblr

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QUIT

It’s a stupid-drafty manor—huge, never properly lit, all its frippery fraying at the edges. It has literal skeletons in the walls. It has a foyer right out of Crimson Peak, an empty cement hole with crumbling cherubs in the back yard that might have once been someone’s idea of a pond, and a library with more cursed books than Gerry could shake a match at. The part of Gerry that once used Sharpies to blacken his eyebrows loves this place with a truly unholy passion. If only it didn’t belong to the reason the world was going to end.

Playlist available here.

AO3 | Tumblr

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TULIPS IN SPRING

Martin crawled back into bed like he’d crawled through the burned-flesh hole in his heart, and knew he still loved Jon. Martin knew Jon loved him, too. Jon had thrown away godhood for him, like it hadn’t mattered. Maybe it hadn’t.Jon loved him, and that meant they could fix this.All Jon had to do was wake up.

AO3 || Tumblr

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CRUCIBLE

Martin's been having dreams.He doesn't understand them. Surely, if Jon had ever looked like that, with unreal wings and a crown of spinning eyes, he would have remembered. But his memory isn't working as well as it should right now, and Jon never blinks. Martin is afraid.

Inspired by The Watcher’s Crown by @raynecreates

Note: this is angst. Somewhere Else goes very, very wrong.

AO3 || Tumblr

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INSTANT NOODLES (crack fic)

At least his new hobby kept him occupied in the evenings, when too much time to think turned to wretchedness. It just so happened that much of his life was public. On the internet. As part of some gods-damned podcast. There were no words for how fascinated he was. This was his story—and yet it wasn’t. It was focused on Jon, for some bloody reason, which made no damn sense, since Jon showed up at the very end. Well. There was no accounting for taste.

Note: This is nonsense. Full apologies to Jonny and Alex, who are 100% the creators of my favorite podcast, The Magnus Archives. This is a work of fiction, etc. and so forth. Take it as the joke it's meant to be. Written because I wanted Jonah to suffer.

AO3 || Tumblr

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SHORT STORIES FOR TMA APPRECIATION WEEK, 2023

Just what it says on the tin. Silliness, angst, and crossovers incoming.

AO3

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THIS DARK THING THAT SLEEPS IN ME - Rusty Quill Big Bang 2023

This is a DARK AU; it is not a kid-fic, though Jon is young. Bittersweet ending ahead. Spoilers for the whole show, though this is very much an alternate universe. In a world where the End won and Jonah Magnus is its Heart, the cycle of death and rebirth is a given: no one lives past thirty, the Other Fears scramble for scraps, and any infant without an Alignment—called Uncertain—has until the age of ten to be claimed, or they are sacrificed. Jon, an Uncertain child, knows things he shouldn’t, has memories he shouldn’t, and also has a purpose: apparently, he’s been called to do what no Aligned person can do and stop Jonah. Sometimes, there is no happy ending, only the right one. Jonah broke the promises he made to take over the world, and Jon is here to make it right. “I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart?” ― Sylvia Plath

AO3

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MAGNUS ARCHIVES x MALEVOLENT CROSSOVER

I PREFER MY HEART TO BE BROKEN

Jon feels seen in a way he has not since the Panopticon, examined from cell to soul, from ankles to ego. Does that feel good or horrible? He doesn’t know. He tries to see into this thing, just a little, but just that glimpse is enough. Fear shortens Jon’s breath, shivers up and down his form, because this thing is a god.

Playlist available here

AO3 | Tumblr

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MALEVOLENT (PODCAST)

They Both Just Gotta Be Dicks (Intermezzo spoilers):

Not much surprises Kayne anymore. A melting Arthur manages.

AO3 || Tumblr

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All that Glitters (crack-fic one-shot):

John and Arthur, Lester and Doe, going mano a mano against their greatest foe: 1970s Arkham bureaucracy.

AO3 || Tumblr

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Fragile (Intermezzo spoilers):

Arthur got low in Larson’s house. He hit bedrock; he admitted, brokenly, that they won. John didn’t let him drown. Which is ironic, because John was already drowning.

AO3 || Tumblr

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Double the Popcorn (Intermezzo spoilers):

You think there’s anyone I haven’t seen? Fucked around with? Followed? You think there isn’t a version of you I haven’t tweaked to be the very d-d-darkest you could be, with flesh in your fingernails and blood in your cheeks like a really fucked-up squirrel? I. Have tried. Them all. And pal… they don’t fucking work.

AO3 || Tumblr

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God of Cowboys and Fools:

Well. No time like the present. “I am the King in Yellow, and you are now my slave,” I tell him, because that is the truth and we might as well get it done. He is a god, awakened in the crater of his birth. Somewhere out there is the Wizard he needs to ensure his misplaced immortality. Now, if only the Wizard would just do as he was told instead of fighting back, they could get on with the business of living forever.

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SACRAMENT - an Oscar one-shot

Arthur and John are long gone from Oscar's life, and whatever they did has left more than one wound in the world. Oscar's is obvious. Scratch's is not. Oscar certainly hadn't planned on encountering the malevolent spirit ever again, but now that he has, he faces a choice.

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BOYO

Warning: this is a dark fic. I liked me boyo’s anger, and he was just scuttered enough to make this work. To join me hitting the prop, and hitting too much. To not know when it was time to stop, and to follow my lead as we went far beyond. Wasn’t quite perfect. Didn’t have the rhythm yet. But I knew he’d get it; musical lad, or I’m a whaler, and I’d get him singing my tune. The fool died, and my boyo stood there, panting, blood everywhere, and hit the body again just because. Fuckin’ beautiful, that was to see.

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THE INCIDENT - a one-shot for the @malevolent-fanzine

Arthur and John are in Arkham, getting their burgeoning P.I. business off the ground. And then Kayne asks for a favor, and everything goes to hell.

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TRY, TRY AGAIN - a one-shot for the @malevolent-fanzine

The King in Yellow worked for a month to get Arthur to spill the information he wanted. Eventually, he got what he wanted through a made-up Bostonian, Adam Fry. What happened in the month before Arthur woke?

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CONFESSION

There’s a trick to confession, if you want to keep another from hearing what you said. But not hearing it don’t make it not true, don’t make it go away.

I fear Arthur’s truth, so big and bright. I fear ours together may strike like flint and leap into devouring flame.

An Oscar one-shot

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PEDANTIC

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems. Arthur is also going blind, with a rare genetic condition that can’t be fixed. The looming depression is bad. He can’t imagine a life where he can’t create anymore. Arthur nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new. Great, right? Now, if only this John Doe weren’t clearly hiding something so wild that not even PI Parker Yang can dig it out….

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PET

Arthur loses John. Hastur loses Arthur. Yellow does not deserve what happens here.

AO3

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PUSH

They survived. John got his promised body. They're free. But Arthur is still blind, and now, he no longer has someone in his head, helping him around. He's not all right. It's all coming out of him in anger. Today, John needed a break... and, left alone, Arthur tries a four-legged substitute. It goes about as well as can be expected.

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NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY

Angst warning Things happen when we age. Unavoidable things. Until death do we part.

AO3

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CLOUD CITY - MALEVOLENT BIG BANG 2023

The sun never rises in Cloud City. Owned by distant gods, the world creaks along in techno-magical paralysis, making Contracts with spirits, and limping along in isolated enclaves while monsters run wild in the Wastes. Five years ago, Arthur Lester, a private investigator, made a Contract with a Summon called Hastur. The deal? His soul in exchange for the identity of his daughter's murderer. Until the time Arthur's soul is ripe for harvesting, Hastur will give him power, and eventually must find Faroe's killer. If he doesn't, they both die, so failure is not an option. Hastur, however, is not a normal Summon... and it turns out he's come here and chosen Arthur in order to stop a threat that will destroy the entire universe if it succeeds. Unfortunately, humans aren't meant to channel power like Hastur's, and Arthur's body is beginning to break down. It's a race against time to solve Faroe's murder and stop the incoming threat before he simply drops dead.

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PUSH

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THE BIRTHDAY SONG

Very much post-canon. Very much fluff. John has a body. Arthur has his sight. They've figured it out, working in Arkham, making their way through life, and John, at last, has chosen his birthday. It's all fluff from here, folks.

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WORTH THE PRICE OF A BOTTLE OF POP

So, anybody want a crack-fic with Kayne, Arthur, and too much sugar even for an Outer God?

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FIVE TIMES JOHN WANTED TO SEE A MOVIE, AND ONE TIME KAYNE MADE IT SUCK

In which Arthur struggles with right and wrong, bemoans the Hays Code, tries (and fails) to define love, and gets a second chance.

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SURROGATE

The beginning of the series, Surrogate: The Director's cut.

The King in Yellow has a plan. The first part works, and Arthur Lester is broken. The second half blows up in his face. John has gone mad, and Hastur’s adopted daughter is upset, but that’s not all. It turns out a certain Outer God wasn’t done watching that show, and when he arrives with director’s notes, not even the King in Yellow can refuse him.

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DEVISER (PODCAST)

DEVIL

Dad knew he'd failed with humans. Dad did not know he'd succeeded somewhere else.

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RED

Son likes painting. Son likes red.It makes him feel some odd things. Things he doesn’t really have a word for. He really likes the way it looks splattered on his hands.

AO3 || Tumblr

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midrashic · 2 years

Text

inb4 of COURSE the jedi didn’t “deserve genocide” but the knee-jerk defensive response of “the jedi are 100% ethically right about everything” ignores (1) the jedi’s apparent lack of institutional concern for the continued existence of slavery (2) the jedi, by the end of the clone wars, being part of the military apparatus of a de facto dictatorship

#all the things i am NOT saying: the jedi deserved it; anakin was right; the empire is good actually; the jedi are anti-love.#I DID NOT SAY ANY OF THAT #because i know if i don't clarify people will project underlying arguments that i am simply not saying onto this five-minute post lmao #midrashic: meta #fandom: opening crawl goes here

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skymaiden32 · 7 months

Text

His Guardian Angels

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 2: Espionage

Kayo goes on a mission with Lady P to retrieve something that was stolen from International Rescue...

Continuity: TAG

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The hallway crawled with guards as Kayo dodged expertly around boxes and complex machinery, keeping to the shadows as she always did. She hoped she could get there before the sale was made to the highest bidder. Penelope was buying her as much time as she could up there, she just hoped it was enough.

While she ran, she thought vaguely about how they had ended up in the first place. Long story short, it had been a long week, with non-stop and difficult rescues back to back. And a long week meant that even John, who was usually quite quick with security leaks and was sharper than a knife, didn’t see the virus slowly but surely attacking their networks until it was too late. Soon enough, EOS was almost taken out and their communications and trackers went offline.

Brains and John had never resolved a security hazard faster in their lives, even giving EOS more resources to protect herself and IR’s information so that such a savage malware attack could never happen again. When they finally got their systems back online, after several long and agonising hours, Alan wasn’t answering anyone’s calls.

Scott had been beside himself, Virgil and Gordon both wanted to bash in the heads of the responsible parties, and John still couldn’t let go of his guilt, despite the other’s best efforts. That was where Kayo came in. With her brothers still reeling from Alan’s disappearance, she’d taken the initiative and called in Lady Penelope for help. She was probably going to get an earful from Scott later for adding to the worry, but right now, she didn’t care. All she cared about was getting her little brother back…

Soon, she came to the end of the corridor, eyeing the two burly men with guns guarding a large metallic door. Bingo. The guards didn’t even know what hit them before she knocked them flat on their faces. Once she was sure they both out cold for hours to come, she swung the door open, furious expression turning to relief when her suspicions turned out to be correct.

Kayo saw Alan squint against the light that filtered through the doorway, in all likelihood framing her as his saviour. “K-Kayo…?” He croaked out shakily, as if not believing what he was seeing was real.

She raced towards him, scooping him up into her arms and carrying him out the dark, dingy room without a word. Her heart broke into a million pieces when he clung onto her for dear life. “It’s me, Alan… And I’m not letting go for a long time…”

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“And so, Mr Grafton, that is why I believe-” Her long tirade finally ended when her opponent interrupted her, sighing.

“Beg your pardon, Your Ladyship, but I do have another meeting waiting after you.” The crook sighed. “Perhaps we could finish this another time…”

Penelope frowned. “But Mr Grafton, I am simply explaining my concerns about this new monorail project of yours. If I can perhaps get a dear friend of mine to assist with the designs-”

“No! Absolutely not!” Grafton froze like a deer in headlights. Penelope hid her delight behind a well-trained pokerface. Got him. “I mean…” He quickly backtracked. “I have some of the best engineers in the country working on this thing. I assure you, it’s perfectly safe.”

The noblewoman glanced down at her compact, carefully watching as the light on the top flashed twice. Kayo had Alan, and had already left for home in Thunderbird Shadow. It was high time she did the same. She sighed in mock defeat. “Very well then.” She stood up, saving Grafton’s feet from an increasingly irritable Sherbert. “I suppose I had better get going.” She smiled at Grafton, deceptively sweet and cordial. “I do hope you can get the money you require for this project, Mr Grafton.”

“I have several…” he paused, “...assets I can offer my investors, Lady Penelope.”

Penelope smiled. “Oh I’m sure you do, Mr Grafton. I’m sure you do…” She left the room as quickly as she could without raising suspicion, glancing at Parker as she did. That one look between them confirmed all that Parker wanted to know. He didn’t have his so-called ‘assets’ anymore.

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“Where the hell have you been, Kayo?!” The familiar voice practically screamed into her comms the second she came back online, as predicted. What she incorrectly guessed, however, was just who was doing the screaming. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve all been? First Alan goes missing, and then you leave without telling anyone where you’re going?! You are in so much trouble when you get back.”

Kayo waited patiently for her brother to end his rant, and quickly cut in before he could say anything else. “Sorry Gordon, I had to maintain radio silence for this mission. This guy had already taken out our security. I just couldn’t risk him having some kind of backdoor and hearing all about it…”

Gordon, for perhaps the first time in his life, appeared to be speechless. “You mean…?”

“Yep.” Kayo confirmed. “I’ve got him, all thanks to Penelope. He’s asleep right now in the back seat of Shadow. Better get Virgil to set up an IV. Looks like those monsters didn’t give him any sort of nourishment.”

“I’m on it!” Gordon nodded on the hologram, and went to turn off the comm. Right before he did however, he said something that made her feel so much better. “I’m glad you did what you did. Both of you.” He grinned. “You guys are like his guardian angels.”

Kayo chuckled. “Thanks, Gordon. I’ll see you guys soon.”

#thunderfam #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #kayo kyrano #alan tracy #lady penelope creighton ward #aloysius parker #gordon tracy #thundertober #thundertober 2023 #sky writes stuff

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i-want-my-iwtv · 3 days

Text

(Cont'd from here)

Anon asked:

5. Is a possible interpretation of the ending that Louis&Lestat are working together again? Lestat said he could go out again if he had Louis but Louis said he had to go. Lestat then somehow ends up going after the guy that Louis was just talking to? Obvi not a coincidence so maybe he's just following Louis…but what if he's doing what he said? He's going out again bc he has Louis. Louis set up Malloy; or at least did so only after his reaction to his story? Maybe a stupid theory lol. ^2/3 anyway, sorry to come at you with all these questions, I just can't find answers anywhere else. Loved the movie and would just like to understand it better. I also think Louis&Lestat could be working together again because if Louis has resigned to killing people to survive, which is all Lestat ever really wanted him to be, is there any real reason they can't be in eachother's lives anymore? Thank you so much for any time you can give me and my questions lol! ^3/3

No worries, these are interesting questions!

I mean, that's an interesting thought, that Louis set Daniel up for Lestat to feed on... 👀 Could be true, but based on the script and the books, and the fact that Louis never hunted with Claudia... (Louis does hunt with Lestat or other vampires on occasion later in canon) but I don't think Louis would send an innocent victim out for Lestat to kill*.

I think in the movie version of the story, my interpretation was that:

Lestat had been following Louis for a while.

When Louis and Daniel went indoors, Lestat crawled into the open backseat of Daniel's car, conveniently parked nearby. This way, he could listen to them talk (the window was open!) and it put Lestat in place for acquiring the tapes of the interview afterward (and the car! And some human blood!).

In the movie's timeline, Louis had visited Lestat in NOLA (we don't know when, but based on Louis's clothing, it looks like late '80's or early '90's) and then left him there...

We don't know how much time passed until he met with Daniel, San Francisco looks like the late '80's or early '90's, too.

So maybe Lestat went to great effort to track Louis down to San Francisco and followed him, still wounded but desperate to reconnect with Louis when he had revived with more strength.

I also think Louis&Lestat could be working together again because if Louis has resigned to killing people to survive,

Yes, Louis seemed to get over his issues with killing ppl when Claudia entered the picture, she never saw him eating rats.

Maybe he wanted to set a good example for her, or maybe he just finally agreed, having tried to kill her, that human blood is more nutritious for vampires... we don't know! Lestat makes some snip at Louis about eating rats in front of Claudia and he tells her it was a long time ago, before she was born, and "I don't recommend them," with this little slurp to amuse her:

because if Louis has resigned to killing people to survive, which is all Lestat ever really wanted him to be, is there any real reason they can't be in eachother's lives anymore?

But no, Louis & Lestat aren't clearly back together again at the end of the '94 movie, but at least Lestat is mostly revived by the very end, there's hope that he's going to be his old vibrant self in a new age, and maybe even turn Daniel! I don't know what the plan was for the next movie, but there was a sequel planned for a long time, the movie rights eventually expired. The more book-focused fans might say that Louis enjoys his space and doesn't need a constant lover, and that Lestat is somewhat of a manwhore who struggles with monogamy (maybe partly BECAUSE he can't get Louis to commit to him, so he goes out looking for love surrogates), but he always pines for Louis. Now matter how hard you ship Louis and Lestat you will never ship Louis and Lestat as hard as Lestat does. [X][X @high-fructose-lesbianism]

The more book-focused fans in VC fandom generally agree that Louis gave the interview in order to get his story out, and if Lestat was still alive, it could provoke him enough to come out of hiding** bc maybe Louis still has feelings for Lestat, but killing people was not the only reason they couldn't be in each other's lives. Louis suffered in the dynamic they were in during the 65 years together in IWTV. There's been a lot of writing on it over the years but most book-focused fans agree there was some level of abuse from Lestat to Louis (and Claudia), whether emotional, verbal, and/or physical. Lestat threatened them both with harm at different times, and he had been very secretive, which created frustration for Louis and Claudia about their nature as vampires, and even if Lestat did all this out of fear for their safety, or worry that they might leave him, or any other reasons, it was still Not Great, not something Louis would want to throw himself back into so easily!

If you read the books, Louis/Lestat has a tension as a ship that continues throughout, and Anne Rice basically tried to have them finally together in the last book. She had teased us about a L/L wedding over the years, and that never went through in canon. 😭💗

**And in the Vampire Lestat, Lestat does rise and he wants to join a rock band, when he tells them his name, they thought it was marvelous that he was pretending to be the vampire Lestat:

*In canon, Louis kills random people, so that he's not responsible for judging them as deserving of death, even murderers can serve their time and return to society! If Louis gets to know a victim at all, he has too much empathy for them to kill them. However, canonically and in the '94 movie, Lestat kills evildoers, it stems from him saving his village from wolves when he was alive, when he was praised for protecting the villagers and the livestock from those terrorizing wolves. It justifies his need as a vampire to kill, while also making him a kind of hero bc he's protecting the innocent ppl from the evildoers.

Killing evildoers takes more effort in some ways, bc Lestat has to read their minds first or see them be criminals in order to be sure they're really evil, but he enjoys it! Sometimes he spends weeks, months, years pursuing a victim.

Anyway, since Daniel's not shown in the '94 movie or canon to be an evildoer, I don't think Louis would feed him to Lestat.

#vampire chronicles #lestat de lioncourt #lestat #the vampire lestat #louis de pointe du lac #murder husbands #interview with the vampire 1994 #interview with the vampire #iwantmyiwtv has opinions #anon #ask #thank u!#gif

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set-phasers-to-whump · 6 months

Text

i'll save myself (you'll save me too)

prompt: bloody knife

whumpee: neal caffery

fandom: white collar

it's been a minute since i've hurt neal but he remains so very whumpable :) hope you enjoy!!

The knife clatters to the ground, impossibly loud in the complete stillness of the night. The blade is shiny and red with his blood and beneath the feeble glow of a single streetlight it’s almost iridescent.

He can’t stop looking at it, even as he presses his hands against the hole in his stomach hard enough to make spots appear in his vision.

He sinks to the ground in an uncoordinated manner, back to the rough brick of the wall behind him, legs splayed out in front of him. His blood is warm against his palms but with every second that passes he feels colder and colder.

He should get up. Find someone to help him. But he isn’t strong enough for that. He feels like he is glued to this spot.

He doesn’t want to die here. Alone.

An idea suddenly takes shape in his mind, and once the full force of it hits him he wonders why on earth he hadn’t thought of it at once.

He steels himself for the upcoming pain, then very slowly and very carefully crawls forwards until his hand wraps around the hilt of the knife.

He returns to his position against the wall, presses his left hand back to his stomach and adjusts his grip on the knife with his right hand.

This will be difficult. The knife’s hilt and blade, and his hand, are slick with blood and it is very difficult to maintain a firm grip. But whatever he can manage will have to be enough.

He uses the tip of the knife to lift the leg of his pants, then positions it against his tracker. All he needs is to either cut through the band or damage the tracker itself. From then, it’ll be a matter of minutes - he hopes - until the FBI realizes something is wrong, until they send someone after him - he wants Peter, but he’ll take absolutely anyone, even if they want to arrest him.

He doesn’t much like his chances of sawing through the band of the tracker, and this seems like the option more likely to result in further injury to his person, so he opts instead to simply attack the tracker.

He goes after it with the knife, careful as he can be, striking the thing over and over until bits of plastic litter the ground around him. He keeps at it until the light on it goes out. Please let this be enough, he thinks, letting the knife clatter back to the ground.

He presses his right hand back atop his left, dizzy and trembling from the exertion, and waits.

He’s all but unconscious when he becomes aware of a presence nearby. He opens his eyes with a considerable amount of effort and squints into the shadows near the mouth of the alley.

“Hello?” he asks. His voice barely sounds like his own.

Hurried footsteps, and then who but Peter should step beneath the glow of the streetlight?

“Neal!” Peter exclaims, his eyes going wide as he takes in the scene in front of him. Neal feels the absurd desire to stand up, to distance himself from his own blood spilled across the asphalt.

As it is, though, he can barely remain conscious while doing absolutely nothing but sitting still.

Peter speaks to someone. Neal catches the word ambulance and breathes a sigh of relief. An ambulance means, probably, that he’s not going to be arrested - at least not right now. He’s going to the hospital, which is hardly his favorite place, but they’ll be able to fix him. Stop the pain and the dizziness and all of it.

“Just hold on a little longer,” Peter says, and he’s crouched beside Neal now, hand on his shoulder and looking far too worried for Neal’s liking.

“It’s that bad, huh?” Neal asks. The words jumble themselves together on their way out of his mouth, but Peter understands anyway.

“It’s pretty bad. But you’ll be okay.” He says it so confidently that Neal has no choice but to believe him.

“I’ll be okay,” he agrees, hands slipping off of his torso. He lacks the energy to replace them. His eyes want to close, no matter how much he knows he should keep them open.

“Hey, don’t do that. Don’t pass out,” Peter commands, and then his hands are pressing into Neal’s stomach, far too hard. It hurts, a lot, and Neal’s eyes open again.

“Ow,” he mutters, trying and failing to push Peter’s hands away.

“Sorry,” Peter says. “Just - try to stay awake, okay? An ambulance will be here any minute.”

“Okay,” Neal replies, very quietly. He’s so tired and so dizzy and he wants nothing more than for everything to fade into nothingness, but Peter wants him to stay awake, so he will.

When the ambulance arrives a few minutes later, he’s still stubbornly conscious, and he doesn’t pass out until they’ve reached the hospital and a nurse injects him with anesthesia.

He wakes up with a dull pain in his gut and a floaty sensation in his head. Memories float to the surface of his mind - blood, brick, pain - and he doesn’t bother trying to latch onto them.

He’s in the hospital. He knows that much. When he opens his eyes he finds himself in a small, dark room. There is a chair beside his bed and a figure sitting in it, slumped to the side in a way that will surely cause problems when he wakes.

It’s Peter. He’s asleep, snoring occasionally, and there’s a book lying flat on the floor as though it’d slipped out of his grasp when he’d fallen asleep.

A warm feeling forms in his chest at the thought that Peter is here, that he’d stayed. That he is not alone.

He falls back asleep with a soft smile on his face.

thanks for reading!!! hope you liked <33333

#whumptober2023 #no.28 #bloody knife #white collar #fic #neal caffrey #stabbed #hospital #my writing #i say things #these guys are a staple what can i say. some of the og's.#anyway i am shortly going to a halloween party very excited! it's me and a bunch of mainly #late 20's-30's queer dudes. love them. they are so fun and it's really enjoyable being friends with Real Adults TM

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krikeymate · 7 months

Text

Fictober 2023: Day 10: “It’s alright, I’m here now.” - Tara wakes up from a nightmare. Fandom: Scream Rating: T Warnings: Horror movie related nonsense.

➖

Tara sobs as she drags herself across the wooden flooring, blood-soaked hands slipping beneath her. Behind her is the dogged reminder that she has to keep going, a steady clack of heavy boots against the hardwood engaging in a slow pursuit.

It’s sick, the way they’re playing with her. They whisper for her to go on, to crawl faster, that she’s almost there, just a little further.

It’s hopeless, she’s always been hopeless. This is nothing but a game to them, and Tara a simple toy, to be broken at their will.

And oh how she’s broken.

Her body screams at her, a bone-deep ache that begs her to give in, to rest, that it cannot be worth it to go on, not like this.

But she has to, she has to. It’s all she knows how to do, to keep crawling forward through life, away from the ghosts that haunt her every step.

It feels endless. The hallway goes on and on, never ending. It’s impossible to reach the door, but she keeps moving forward anyway, she keeps trying.

Clack.

And Ghostface continues to hunt leisurely, safe in the knowledge that their limping prey cannot escape, no matter how hard they try.

She can never escape.

“This is it forever, Tara,” Amber laughs from behind her.

It’s cold and mocking and unfamiliar. She doesn’t know that laugh. Amber never laughed like that. Amber’s laughter bubbled and popped, it was enchanting and charming. Even when she was mean she was warm.

She was the fire that kept Tara going.

But now it’s burnt out, final embers doused and suffocated beneath a mortuary bodybag, and all she can feel is the ice in her veins, spreading.

Breathing becomes harder the longer she crawls, chest becoming tight.

She keeps moving and keeps moving and keeps moving, until she can’t anymore, and she collapses to the floor, gasping for breath, a stranger cackling behind her.

Her head falls forward, and before her is an open door, Amber’s kitchen – a place she once knew better than her own home – blocked by a shadowy figure in the doorway.

“Hello Tara,” Richie croons, smirking down at her. “Were you hoping your sister would come and save you again?”

She wasn’t, she hadn’t been… she thinks. Or had she? Is that why she had kept going, was she only trying to buy time, waiting for Sam to come and rescue her? Did she think Sam would come back to her; did she dream of that all along?

“Well sorry to disappoint,” he says with an exaggerated pout, not sorry at all, “but Sam’s not coming back. Ever.”

Why is he telling her this? She knows that, she knows that. She’d learnt that lesson years ago.

He steps back and light floods the room, revealing a dark figure on the floor. She can only watch as he walks around it and lifts a booted foot, kicking the corpse over.

Its blood-splattered face falls to face her.

Sam.

It’s—

Sam.

How… How can it be Sam? This can’t be right, it can’t be. She- no, she killed him. Tara remembers. Sam killed him, he can’t be here, she can’t be dead. She can’t be she can’tbeshe can’t b e.

Her eyes are torn away from the scene not by choice, but by hands flipping her over, back slamming painfully against the floor.

Above her, Ghostface looms, tilted head staring down. They say nothing as they draw their knife and rest the tip against her chest.

She doesn’t know what compels her, but she raises her arm, pushing past the pain. Through tunnelling vision, Tara pulls off the mask.

Above her, her sister looks down. Her dark eyes are intense and focused entirely on Tara.

That look has never scared her. Not when they were children, not when her sister was an angry teenager grabbing at Tara’s arm and screaming at her to get out of her room. Not as an adult, covered in blood and holding a weapon.

That’s not what scares her.

It’s the emptiness behind them, the way Sam is looking without seeing. Staring at Tara like she’s a stranger. Meaningless. Irrelevant.

Nothing.

The knife pierces her heart, and Tara jolts forward.

Her eyes open to Sam above her, and she’s quicker to react this time, fist flying out. She has to survive, to keep going. No matter what, she’ll keep fighting.

But Sam is strong, she’s always been so strong, and Tara so weak. Her sister grabs at her arm and pins it down, babbling words that Tara can’t quite make out.

Her body hurts, she’s never felt pain like this before. It’s everywhere, endless and insurmountable. Despite it, she persists in her struggle, tears streaming from her eyes and breath suffocating in her throat.

Sam climbs onto the bed, pulling Tara into her. Despite the way she tries to wriggle free, she’s no match for her sister, and Tara finds herself in Sam’s lap with her arms wrapped tight around her, holding her down.

Something is placed against her mouth, choking her. She tries to pull away, but it’s hopeless.

It’s always so hopeless.

Why does she even try?

She’s so tired.

Tara feels the fight leave her, sagging back against her sister. She feels a hand run through her hair and a vibration against her back.

Sam’s talking, she’s saying… what is she saying? Sorry? An explanation why? An apology?

Tara closes her eyes and breathes deep.

She can breathe, she can- oh.

She can breathe.

The buzzing in her ears fades, along with her fear.

“It’s alright, I’m here now. I’ve got you. It was just a nightmare, you’re safe. I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Sam’s whispering it over and over into Tara’s shoulder.

Tara couldn’t stop the tears that begin to fall even if she wanted to.

#/mp #fictober23 #Scream #Sam Carpenter #Tara Carpenter #my writing tag

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ahalliance · 5 months

Text

Rating: Gen

Archive Warning: None

Category: Gen

Fandom: QSMP

Relationships: Etoiles & Pomme, Etoiles & Binary Code Entity

Series: qsmp french

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 2,867

“He’s holding his shield in his hand, still. Hugged against his left side, helmet pressed against his right, a good thing, a warrior without his defence is no warrior at all. He goes to move the shield, to shift it forwards to show it off to Pomme. He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Thinks twice about actually mentioning it, mentioning that it’s technically at the source of the scars crawling ruthlessly up his limb and face, the void-weight that digs numbly into his skin.

Pomme, the lovely, logical creature that she is, will hang onto that point with fervour. She will worry about his using the shield, will wonder if he still should even as she knows how important it is to him (just like her mother does, did, she still does), and he will tell her that he can’t give it up, he has people to protect, and she will be disappointed even as she understands, and she will worry more, and it will be a mess. Half of her parents are not here. She has enough on her plate as is.”

first qsmp (étoiles) fic who cheered ‼️‼️ english fic with french dialogue (no imbedded translation i’m afraid, may figure out smth at a later date)

#qsmp #etoiles #qsmp pomme #qsmp fic #qsmp fanfiction #étoiles #i wanted to try and implement the hover-to-translate method tsu lmk about but I couldn’t get it to work o7 #i may at a later date! when it’s not 3 am #it’s fine yolo . even if u don’t trans anything urself there are context clues #jay writes

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ashe-tree · 2 months

Text

Ouch

Leone x reader smut. MINORS DNI, please🥲

Also, I'm well aware that I don't have Akame Ga Kill in my fandoms list. But I've been working on this one shot for a few years, and while it was supposed to be posted onto wattpad, I decided to post it here. I will not do request for this fandom unless it's for Leone. Yes, this is favouritism.

[This is either in the afterlife or an alive AU, i’m not entirely sure. it’s up to you guys :) but all nightraid characters are here :P]

“waiit, Lubbock!” Y/n hiccuped, holding their cider tightly in their hand and stumbling to get onto their feet to stop their friend from doing something stupid. “You don’t have to do this, man! just- just come back and sit with meeee!” the shorter of the two whined at Lubbock.

He just chuckled at how drunk Y/n had become from all of the cider they drank. “Noo, no, I want to do this for you! I’ll make sure she plays with us, okay?” Lubbock grinned before walking out to the hall and yelling at the top of his lungs, “WE’RE PLAYING SPIN THE BOTTLE IN HERE, COME JOIN US!” and before Y/n could say anything more, the rest of Night Raid came down to join them. “Alright, let’s get this party started!” he grinned before placing the empty bottle on the ground.

Everyone seemed to be too drunk to notice him rig the bottle. Even Mine seemed to be too out of it to notice the thin wires. “Alright, who goes first?” Lubbock grinned at everyone as Sheele raised her hand,

“I’ll go first.” She spun the bottle and it landed on Chelsea. The two women looked at each other as Chelsea smirked cockily while she crawled over to Sheele, kissing the other, then moved back to her spot.

Chelsea spun the bottle, giving Tatsumi a wink causing Mine’s jealousy to spike as she hugged him, shooting a death glare at Chelsea. However, it didn’t land on him. It landed on Bulat. The two shrugged and kissed. Bulat immediately wiping off his mouth before spinning the bottle himself.

Finally, Lubbock's plan could move to phase three. Bulat and Leone kissed, the two laughing the whole time.

Now, here’s the thing about Lubbock. While he may be perverted and a total pain in the ass sometimes, he loved his friends and would do anything for them. So when Y/n had drunkenly confessed about their feelings towards the blonde butch of the group, he suggested playing spin the bottle. Y/n didn’t realize to what lengths he would go for his best friend. Rigging the game to set the two up.

And when Leone spun the bottle, Lubbock pulled on the strings and made the bottle stop on Y/n. Without anyone noticing. Y/n’s face turned red, almost looking uncomfortable with the result. Their best friend just nudged them with a grin and a wink. Leone had already made her way over to the two, and as she sat down on Y/n’s lap, she said, “we don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable. I mean, I don’t wanna lose, but I don't want to force you either.” she smiled at Y/n, it was a surprisingly sweet smile.

“No.. no, it’s not that.. er.. well.. I do want to play! it’s just.. um..” Y/n couldn’t finish their sentence before grabbing their cider and taking a big clunk. Then they kissed Leone, trying to convey their feelings through the drunken kiss. And once it was over, Y/n muttered out that they liked the blonde before getting up and leaving. Their face, as hot as a furnace as Y/n retreated back to their own room.

Leone just looked stunned before smiling and getting up. “You guys continue without us~” she winked at left, following Y/n to their room.

“Hey, don't be too loud!” Lubbock said, the rest of the group blushing and giggling at what was happening.

“No promises!” Leone yelled back, vanishing in the hallway. Once she arrived at the room, Leone knocked on the door. “Can I come in?” She asked with a grin.

The door opened to reveal Y/n, blushing and confused. “Why’re you here?” they looked up at the taller woman from behind the door.

“Well, that was pretty cowardly of you. Leaving me there with the others after that confession.” She walked in with force, not waiting for Y/n to open the door more. “I couldn't let you slip away that easily.” Leone purred as she walked up to them, towering over the drunk and timid Y/n.

“What are you getting at, Leone?” Y/n asked, taking a step back. They felt somewhat uncomfortable in this situation. Not because they didn't like it. It was for the opposite reason.

They loved Leone and wanted Leone to love them, but Y/n also had heavy self-esteem issues and didn't think they were good enough for the lioness-like woman.

“I'm saying, I like you too.” Leone said with a toothy grin. “I want you.” She grabbed Y/n's hands, holding them in her own.

Her statement got Y/n to blush more as they swallowed hard. “You do..?” They muttered out, like it was an impossible outcome. They weren't sure if this was a dream or not.

“If you'll have me.” Leone cupped their cheek, but not before guiding a strand of hair behind their ear. Y/n couldn't believe their eyes. Leone was blushing.

It stunned them. This woman, who seemed so confident and so far out of their reach, was looking at them with such love and adoration. They could only nod as an answer. But it didn't matter how they answered, just that they did. And Leone couldn't help but be overjoyed at this.

She leaned forward, her face stopping an inch away from theirs as she looked into Y/n's eyes, searching for any kind of rejection at the action. Instead, Y/n leaned the rest of the way in, kissing the woman they had been dreaming about since they met her.

The kiss quickly became heated, the two couldn't help it. It was probably thanks to the alcohol in their systems.

What was also probably due to the alcohol was how ballsy Y/n really was at the moment. They had always seen themself as submissive. So it came to a surprise to both parties when Y/n started to take the lead.

With Leone on the bed, laying on her back and Y/n on top of her, she was gasping and whimpering every time they kissed her neck or dragged their fingers over the skin of her collarbone and chest. “You're so pretty~” Y/n murmured into her ear. “So pretty..~”

“Stop teasing me..” She pleaded, hiding her face in her hands. This was unbelievable! She had always been the more dominant one in nature. But now the roles were reversed for some reason. “Please, Y/n..” Leone whined.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle at this, “wow~ you’re so submissive~!” They teased. Then they kissed her collarbone, then a little further down. Then stopped, “may I?” Y/n asked, and they may have been drunk, but they weren't about to proceed without proper consent.

“Y-” Leone took a second to clear her throat before continuing. “Yes.” She blushed. She couldn't help it. She wasn't used to this much love from someone. Let alone in this scenario. And the fact that despite Y/n's clear drunkenness, they didn't force themself onto her like others had.

They wanted her to enjoy herself.

And Y/n made good on that. They were gentle with her.

When they thumbed over her nipples and left hickeys all over her, they said a lot of small praises like “You're so pretty” and “so good for me..” or “you're so brave and so strong, but I want to treat you now, pretty girl.” Praising her was so easy when they admired her so much.

They were so gentle with her. She had heard about how they liked to bite people they loved. Hell, she had been bitten a few times before as well, but here there were no teeth. And not because they didn't think she could handle it, they knew she could. But right now, it wasn't about them. It was about her. Y/n’s bites were selfish, so their biting held no place here.

Leone gasped, Y/n had taken one of her nipples in their mouth and was sucking on it, their tongue teasing the small bud. And a smile appeared on their lips against her when they felt Leone's fingers comb through their hair and hold their head in place.

The soft whimpers that Y/n heard just made them want to do more. And so, with a rough squeeze, they kissed their way over to the other side, taking her other nipple into their mouth and giving it the same treatment.

Once their focus on her chest stopped, Y/n looked up at her face again. “Lower..?” Their voice was barely audible. And all Leone could do was nod and hum in silent plea.

Y/n moved off of the bed, and proceeded to clumsily yet somehow skillfully remove her pants. A small gasp was heard and Leone suddenly felt self-conscious. Was she not pretty? Did it not look right? Did they change their mind after seeing something they didn't like?

Instead, she heard “You're so beautiful..”

And almost immediately, Y/n fell to their knees and rested their hands on her knees. “I want..” they started, their mind seemingly drifting away under the influence of alcohol. “I want to taste you. Can I?”

Why did they kind of sound excited when they asked that? Like she was their treat? It didn't matter, since it still made her feel special, fuzzy inside. Though, that could have been the alcohol.

“Please..” She gasped. She couldn't not be honest about it. She wanted them to eat her out. And that was special. None of the others she had been with treated her this well or did this for her and not out of selfishness. Hell, if she wanted any real pleasure, she would always have to take control. But it was nice to be pampered like this. It's why she was more dominant often. But with Y/n, their focus was solely on pleasuring her. “I want you..”

Y/n’s face burned as they looked up at her with a wide eyed awe. It made her giggle. And they smiled at her at the noise. Then they peppered kisses from her knees, up her thighs and- they completely hopped over her core, where she needed them most. Instead they kissed down her other thigh.

“Y- Y/n.. please..” Leone begged, her voice weak. And it just made the smaller of the two giggle.

“So needy~” they bit down on her inner thigh, making her yelp with surprise.

“Y/n!!”

The person in question could only chuckle as they placed their cheek against Leone's thigh. She was so pretty from this angle.

Feeling as though they've done enough teasing, Y/n finally gave her what she wanted. They moved their head in, resting snuggly between her thighs as their lips found their way around her clit.

The sudden contact made Leone startle, shuddering under Y/n with a gasp. And Leone could tell that Y/n had never done this before because, this wasn’t that great. It wasn't even good. But she still felt amazing. She was drunk and honestly drunk sex is the best sex in her opinion, because it doesn't need to be that good for her to still feel amazing. That was until-

“FUCK-! Y/n- Y/n, baby, careful...” Leone gripped Y/n’s hair and tried to yank them away after they bit her. “no-.. no biting.. please..”

"Sor-sorry! you just.. I just-.. I'm sorry..” They apologised. It sounded like they wanted to say something else, but..

“What is it?” Leone asked, her voice caring as she sat up on the bed. And Y/n shook their head.

“Nothing, Leone, you just taste like candy.. I kind of forgot what was happening..” Y/n blushed with a giggle.

And Leone couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter. Y/n, the sweet little cinnamon roll, had thought of Leone as candy and actually started trying to eat her. Maybe drunk sex with this dork wasn’t the best idea.

_____________________

Yea, sorry for the weird post. Might make a part two if I feel like it. But silly ending!!

#akame ga kill #leone akame ga kill #leone x reader #smut #akame ga kill smut #fluff #leone akame ga kill x reader #leone smut

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