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#pop rocked sky children
sky-poprocks · 1 month
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They call me a sky:cotl player the way I [LOUD SHARP SHARD CRUNCH SOUND EFFECT AS WINGED LIGHT GOES EVERYWHERE] -get hit by [A SECOND LOUD SHARD CRUNCH SFX] the eye- [LOUD HEARTBEAT SOUND EFFECT AS I NEARLY RUN OUT OF WINGED LIGHT] of eden shards.
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Current song that I love atm:
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loftwinggoesmew · 2 years
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Can't wait to become a living pinball machine when a crab, shard, and flying shard decide to yeetus my skyfetus
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letetra · 8 months
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sparrowrye · 2 months
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Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 8
Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.
Previous Part
Part 8: ignited flame
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Weeks went by and winter came.
Husker had noticed my abrupt silence and depressing mood. He tried to make me talk about the fight with Alastor but I didn't want to talk about anything at all.
My meetings with Rosie were just as depressing. They yielded less and less, though she claims it's helping me use more and more of my magic. I noticed the things that took a lot of effort before now took minimal effort. Such as my appearance.
I sat outside on the porch in the rocking chair. I wrapped myself in a heavy blanket and hid my Demon side away. I could see my breath come in clouds. The field was covered in a beautiful, clean white sheet. The trees were bare but the inches of snow on their branches made them look like a winter wonderland.
Husker joined me on the porch. He didn't bring a blanket but I guessed he was using magic to keep himself warm. In fact, I knew he was because I could see a faint glow of red around him. I noticed this glow whenever he used magic.
"It looks nice," he broke the silence.
"Very."
"Have you seen snow much?"
"Not until I was free," I answered. I could remember how confused and amazed I was when I saw my first snow. I was running around trying to catch snowflakes in my palms. I loved watching children run around and make snowmen in the thick snow.
"Alastor hates snow with a burning passion." Husker chuckled when I stared at him wide eyed. "Most Demons do since, you know, we come from hell and it's pretty fucking hot down there."
"Makes sense." I nodded. "It doesn't bother me."
"Do you want to know how to stay warm on your own?"
"No thanks," I declined. "I like it this way."
Silence fell between us for a long while. I eventually grew tired of playing the same bad memories in my head over and over again.
"Where is he now?" I asked.
"In his study. Doing another broadcast."
I unwrapped myself from my blanket and sat on the steps. I put my hand in the snow and left my mark in the white powder. I looked over my shoulder at him. "Maybe...you will teach me?"
He sat beside me and told me how. I tried a few times before I got the hang of it. My body's temperature rose and stayed at the right spot. My hand no longer felt cold but I could still feel the snow.
I grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in his face. He mewled like an angry cat and crawled away from me, fur sticking up all over his back. I laughed and apologized. Instead of accepting it, he jumped on my back and shoved my face into the snow.
I sent wind behind him and rolled him off. I let my Demon side out as I pounced on him. We wrestled in the cold snow for awhile, unbothered by the frigid temperature thanks to our magic.
I shoved him off with my legs, like he had done to me one time, and threw a snowball at him. He hissed and ran at me on all fours. I followed his lead and started running away on all four. It was surprisingly easier and faster.
He chased me around the house several times before he landed hard on my tail. The cat and mouse switched roles as I chased him in circles. Finally I jumped on his back and we rolled to a stop on our backs. Snow had started to fall and it gently melted on our sweat soaked faces.
My cheeks started to hurt from smiling. I looked over at Husker who was taking deep breaths with his eyes closed.
"Thank you," I said. His eyes popped open and he turned his head towards me.
"What for?"
"For being fun." I turned back to the gray sky. I put my hand up to catch one of the flakes. "I never...I never really knew how to have fun." I brought my claws back in so my hand looked like normal. "I always watched other people having fun and laughing. It always looked so easy. But I...I never really knew how to do that."
"It must've been awful in those rings." Husker's ears flatted sideways a bit. "I never...realized that they raised fighters from when they were just children."
"If you did, would you have stopped them?"
He was quiet for a long while. "Now, of course. But...back then? I don't know. I was so desperate for money that I was willing to do anything. Even...making a deal with another Demon."
"Alastor, right?"
A moment of silence. "Yeah." He pulled himself up to a sitting position. "I don't want you to be afraid to confide in me. I want you to feel like you can say anything. Even if all you do is complain about how shitty Alastor is being." I sat up as well, watching his face intently. "I know he said not to talk about leaving with me, but you can. I won't tell him."
"What was the deal, if I may ask," I prompted gently.
He casted a sideways glance at me, then looked down at his claws. He was quiet for awhile and I didn't push. He was probably dying to tell someone about his unfortunate fate.
"I...I used to be an overlord in Hell. I gambled with souls for awhile then started gambling up here. But...I lost a few hands. And a few more after that. Until I was on my last one. I didn't want to lose my power, my magic, so I gambled against him for more souls. And I lost my soul to him over a bad game."
There was a long moment of silence again. I searched my brain for something to say and came up with, "I'll bet he cheated."
It made Husker chuckle and made me sigh with relief. He stood up and examined his snow-soaked pants. He held out a hand and helped me to my feet. "You're probably right." He smiled. I returned it. "Well, let's go inside and get dry."
"Sounds good." As we walked up to the house, I noticed Alastor watching from the second story window.
****
The house had finally been fully renovated and back to its former glory. We had running water, working electricity, and restored floorboards and walls. Keeping it clean, though, was proving to be a problem. Bugs still found their way into the old home and dust was still an ever present threat to my sinuses. It didn't help that we couldn't open the windows to air out the stuffy house without losing all the heat from the fireplaces.
Speaking of which, something loud tumbled down the fireplace and landed firmly on the hot coals. I barely stepped into the room when Alastor appeared from the shadows and lifted the soot-covered creature. A big, singular red eye snapped open and made direct contact with my two. My hair stood up.
Alastor let go of it and the soot disappeared in a puff of black clouds. Standing up was a small child dressed in pink and white. "Darling," he looked at me, "meet Niffty. A devilish little thing, she is."
"Whoooah, what are you?" The little girl sped over and disappeared behind my back. She touched my tail then clambered onto my back to touch my wings and horns. She was like a bug as she jumped all over me.
"Niffty?" Husker came into the room. She immediately jumped off me and started her assault on him.
"Hey kitty kitty~" She poked her head out from under his hat. He lifted his hat and pulled her off. She landed on her face on the floor and I worried she might start crying. Instead, she yelled, "Yay, pain!" She suddenly started crawling around on all floors and appeared on chairs and shelves. "This place is awfully dirty."
I side-eyed Husker who took a sip of his alcohol with a growl. Alastor put a hand on my shoulder, making me jump. My hair on my neck and arms stood up even more. He said, "I noticed your trouble keeping the house clean. You did all the hard work restoring it so I employed our little darling, Niffty here, to help." I stepped to the side so his hand fell from my shoulder and so I could face him.
"How many people exactly do you have under your service?" I questioned.
"Oh I lost count." He scratched at something on his cane.
"Knife knife, I need a knife, these little roaches aren't going nowhere," Niffty mumbled. I looked at Husker again but he just growled and disappeared back into the kitchen for another drink.
"She's harmless, trust me," Alastor said.
"I don't," I mumbled. I went back to the fireplace and fixed up the hot logs. I didn't need a stoker as I used my magic to protect my hand and move the logs back to their original position.
"Say, darling." Alastor moved to stand behind me. I quickly stood up and faced him with crossed arms. "Why don't you join me in the library? There's some information I'd like to share with you that I think you'd find rather useful."
"What kind of information?"
"Why so skeptical, dear? I'm providing you with information. Surely you're curious." He didn't wait for an answer and crossed the threshold between the sitting room and the library. I noted that he had to duck to avoid hitting the doorframe.
I let out a strained sigh and followed him. The fire in this room was contained in a small cage in the fireplace. It left the room much colder than the others. Most of the warmth came from the open windows that allowed the sun to shine through when it came out from behind the winter clouds.
"Please, get comfortable," he said as he perched himself near the fireplace. I leaned against the large desk adjacent to him, careful not to let my wings knock anything over. He cocked his head a little but said nothing about it. "How much do you know of magic?"
"Obviously not as much as I thought." I wanted to be smart but my words kept coming out soft. I couldn't rid my mind of his terrifying form the night I fought him. My mind told me it was a nightmare but my body remembered it as real as it was when it happened. I didn't like standing this close to him.
"Before you came here, how much did you know?" The sun finally shone through the windows, illuminating the usually dark room. He slithered to the window and sat down in the sun, his hands elegantly settling on his knees. His smile was wide.
"Nothing, really. Only how to use it." I dropped my crossed arms to my lap.
"So you know nothing of the types of magic?"
"I know they exist but I don't know what they are."
He raised his palm as if expecting someone to hand him something. Something did when I saw a book being pulled off the shelf by itself. It floated past me and landed in his claws. He opened it with one hand and the pages flipped on their own. "There are several and they all have their own levels in them as well. Take a look."
He casted the book towards me, letting it plop in my hands and making me almost drop it. I looked down at the open page to see a series of circles and words. There were three groups: elementary magic, existence magic, and advanced magic. They all had little circles underneath them with different symbols.
In Elementary, it had all four elements. In existence, there was Holy, Hell, Cosmo, and Chrono magic. Advanced had a number of different ones form electricity to poison. "What's Cosmo and Chrono?" I asked.
"Cosmo is dealing with space, like the space between Heaven, Hell, and here," he answered, "Chrono is time." He casted the book back to the shelf it had come from. "Those with Slight magic are only able to use Elementary. Demons can use any and all of them, though some like to specialize in certain ones."
"What do you specialize in?"
He laughed, standing up and bouncing his cane off my his claws. "All of them dear. I'm a master of all the magic there is."
"Even Holy magic?"
Static caught his throat. "Only angels use Holy magic. I wouldn't bother twiddling with such a useless form of magic." He spun his cane and jutted it into the ground. "I believe you will be able to master of all them, too."
"Why would you want me to?" I dared.
"Mastering them will be up to you. I'm going to teach you how to control them properly. Last thing I need is for the house to fall apart because you don't know how to manage them." It was more of a demeaning comment than anything. "And we'll start now." The curtains jerked closed and the doors to both the kitchen and sitting room were slammed shut. I was abruptly thrown into pitch blackness save for Alastor's red eyes and yellow teeth. "Conjure light."
I backed into a chair and fell over it. I couldn't see anything except him. Then I couldn't. All the lights went out and I was left alone in the darkness. "I--I don't--I don't know how!"
"You lack imagination." I turned over to see his red eyes again. I jumped to my feet and backed into a table of some kind. What did this library look like? What was I running into? Why couldn't I remember? "You're limited by your own self." His eyes disappeared again.
I looked down at my hands, though I couldn't see them, and conjured fire in my palm. Something hard smacked my wrist and I clasped it to my chest, snuffing out the flame. I couldn't move my fingers.
"I said light. Not fire."
"Fire is a type of light," I hissed into the darkness.
"Conjure pure light. You want to see, don't you?"
I rubbed my sore wrist and opened my other hand. I tried to picture my own hand holding a ball of light. Yet nothing came of it. Why wasn't it working? Why did it never work for me on the first try?
"Your own mind is holding you back." His voice passed behind me. He was circling me. I could hear his boots hitting the floor. I put my tail out behind me and moved around the objects in the room until I was in a corner. I tried to conjure another ball of light, still nothing. "It's simple, really." He appeared in front of me holding a small circle of light, smiling at me. Then he disappeared into the darkness again.
"Simple for you. I'm the one with a curse."
Something shoved me from behind and I landed on my knees. I threw my tail and wings out to keep him away. I heard him walking in circles again.
"A curse is a trick of the mind. You're not actually cursed. Your mind thinks you are." The distortion and radio static of his voice was making me sick to my stomach.
"The fu--the he--what does that even mean?"
Something hard hit the tip of tail. I yelped and drew my tail in. The same thing happened to my wings and I curled in on myself.
"It means you're chaining yourself to the ground and still expecting to fly." He grabbed hold of my wrist and lifted it painfully high until I was on my toes. "Now, conjure light." His claws dug into my skin but I couldn't break free of his hold. I saw a faint glow of green that outlined his hand, arm and the rest of him. I was too busy staring at him to notice the faint glow of light from my palm.
He noticed my stare, somehow, and threw my hand over my head, making me fall backwards on my tailbone. His red eyes and sharp teeth ignited again. I scrambled back as they came closer and closer. My back hit the wall and I threw my hand up in between us. I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured light illuminating him.
When I didn't feel him touch me, I slowly opened my eyes. Alastor was standing with his arms and cane behind his back. He was smiling down at me. The light was coming from my hand, not from him. I had done it. I had conjured light.
"See, darling? It has everything to do with your mind." He pulled me up by my hand as the curtains and doors opened. Husker and Niffty were waiting in the kitchen, Husker with a look of worry on his face. "But perhaps you ought to read more," his hand tightened around mine, "to expand your imagination."
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shu-box-puns · 1 year
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Leaning to put on an exopack
'You lose that mask, you’re unconscious in twenty seconds, you’re dead in four minutes.'
More of my Dad!Tsu'tey and Spider brain rot.
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Right so when the school was still an active thing and before Sylwanin died, Tsu'tey attended with the other children. He was one of Grace's best students. Incredibly bright and eager to learn. Very competitive with Neytiri to see who could learn the most English words in the least amount of time.
Tsu'tey was not part of the group that set the bulldozer on fire. He wasn't even in school that day since his father had taken him and his brother out on a hunt for the day. By some dumb luck, he missed the entire situation.
The school got closed down. Sylwanin died of her wounds. And the Omaticaya learnt all they needed to about the Sky People.
But Tsu’tey wasn't done. He noticed that Grace's demon body often visited the school. She tidied the learning resources and swept the leaves.
He approached her on impulse one day, intending to chase her off but instead growing curious.
He demanded she teach him about the breathing masks the Sky People wore. How to disable them, how they worked. Anything he could use to his advantage should they turn their attention on HomeTree.
Grace had agreed easily enough. Tsu'tey assumed it was her love of teaching that convinced her, but he had a sneaking suspision she had simply had a soft spot for him.
She had turned to one of the cupboards facing the far wall, mercilessly untouched by bullet wounds, and began pulling out various exopacks for him to practice on.
If she was disturbed by his reasonings, she didn't show it as she cleared one of the tables and began setting the spare exopacks down. She turned away again, ducking down to drag out a human-sized silicone dummy for him to practise disarming. 
The exopacks turned out to be easy to break. All he had to do was break the glass front covering the face or slash the breathing tube that connected the face to the small pack that typically hung from a belt or was attached to a backpack.
He found them incredibly bothersome. 
"Very good." Grace complimented, and Tsu’tey returned his gaze to her. He recognised the challenge in her tone. Similar to how she used to goad him into pushing himself further during English lessons. His head tilted in silent question and the corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "Can you take them off without destroying them?"
He scoffed. Of course he could.
And then he attempted to do so and failed miserably.
Tsu'tey quickly discovered that the straps that secured the mask to the back of the skull were too small for his fingers and he often ended up tearing them clean off by accident. The valves were too fiddly and popped off easily. By the time he could confidently put on and take off the exopack from the human-sized mannequin Grace provided, she had a small mountain of packs in need of repairing. 
Carefully removing the mask from the mannequin was counter productive and far more time consuming than breaking it. He told her as such and she merely laughed.
In hindsight and years down the line, Tsu’tey thanked Grace with all he had for her challenge. He prayed to the Great Mother, praising her for putting those curious thoughts into his head and encouraging him to take those lessons from his late teacher. 
Every prayer of gratitude he'd ever learnt fell from his lips as he knelt curled over his vulnerable, sky person son. The limp boy lay unconscious in his arms, completely shielded from the forest within Tsu'tey's protective embrace.
At the hunter's feet sat Spider's old exopack, the glass front smashed in and the cables in disarray after he'd hit the ground hard and collided with a rock concealed by moss. By some miracle, Tsu'tey had remembered to strap a spare to his belt earlier that morning.
It had happened so fast. Terrifyingly fast.
By nature, Spider had always been clumsy. So Tsu'tey had assumed this fall was like all the others. With a roll of his eyes, he'd hooked his arms under Spider's armpits and hauled him to his feet. He hadn't stood when Tsu'tey had gone to set him back down.
The hunter's ears flickered uncertainly at the strange wheezing sound the boy was making. He realised that the mask was no longer hissing in time with every breath. Time had slowed as Tsu'tey glanced to the moss cloaked rock and recognised the shape and shine of broken glass. His blood had run cold and Spider stopped making that awful noise.
Somehow that was far worse than his son struggling to breath.
Instinct had had Tsu'tey scooping his son up into his arms. He spun him round and Spider had gone limp in his grasp. His lips turning blue and his eyes unseeing. He was still breathing. But each breath was shallow. Unfufilling.
Muscle memory had Tsu’tey scrambling for the exopack at his belt. His eyes were narrowed in concentration despite the sickeningly fast pounding of his heart. Those hours spent crouched over the silicon mannequin came in handy as he managed to slip the straps over his boy's face and turn on the air flow. His large fingers fiddled frantically with the buttons, eyes flicking all over Spider's face as the mask audibly suctioned on.
Spider did not wake. But the blue tint to his face had immediately subsided as Earth air flooded his system; filling his suffocating lungs. The seizing of his chest ceased and he finally stopped twitching. He looked like he'd fallen asleep again.
Tsu’tey could've wept with relief as he clutched Spider to his chest; fingers spread between his shoulder blades to support his back where he could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath his hand. His head was cradled against his neck, where the rhythmic inhale and click of the exopack further calmed Tsu'tey's nerves.
He would live, he knew.
After years of war, he knew first hand what a dying human sounded like. How their body seized from the lack of breathable air, how they went deathly still, eyes unseeing. 
In contrast, Spider was peaceful. Cuddling into his warmth and practically melting under his touch.
He’s been fast enough, he reassured himself. 
And for now, that was enough.
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camille-lachenille · 5 months
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The Silmarillion ultimate playlist
It’s the time of Spotify wrap-ups and whatnot and this gave me an idea: let’s make a giant, collaborative playlist for the Silmarillion!
Drop the songs that make you think of a specific character, your OCs, relationship, event, place, or just gives you major Silm Vibes in the reblogs and tags. Put links to them, write essays about these songs if you want, or just reblog to share further, but the goal is to have fun and discover as many songs as possible.
You can share any song or musical piece you want, no matter the genre or language, the only rule is that it can’t be a song by Tolkien nor a track from the LotR movies or musical, nor the Hobbit or any musical adaptation of Tolkien’s works (I see you Finrod Rock Opera. I will listen to you one day).
Anyways, here are my songs, and the link to the collaborative playlist:
Eärendil, Starwing: Sailboat of Mine - Eurielle & Mario Grigorov
Eöl, Nan Elmoth: Hotel California - Eagles
Aredhel: Touch the Sky - Brave; I want to Break Free - Queen;
Nerdanel, Anairë and Eärwen: Friends will be Friends - Queen
Findis: Ave Maria - Franz Schubert (specifically sung by Maria Callas)
Morgoth: Back on the Throne - Firewind
Lúthien: Savage Daughter - Sarah Hester Ross; Queen of King - Alessandra
Maglor’s Gap: I wanna be in the Cavalry - Colm R. McGuinness (both the original and the reprise)
Maglor: Requiem, Lacrimosa - W.A. Mozart
Fingon/Maedhros: Princes of the Universe - Queen
Túrin Turambar: Live and Die by the Sword - Firewind
Fëanor (from the moment he swears the Oath to his death, but specifically Alqualondë and Losgar): Wars of Age - Firewind
Amarië: I will survive - Gloria Gaynor
Eluréd and Elurín: Erlkönjg - Franz Schubert; Come Little Children - Hocus Pocus (cover by Erutan)
Finwë: Sin - Lia Marie Johnson
Helcaraxë: Rise from the Ashes - Firewind
Nirnaeth Arnoediad: Bloodstained Ground - Eluvetie
Sons of Fëanor: Threefold Death - Eluvetie
Edain/ end of the War of Wrath vibes: Prologue - Eluvetie
Fingolfin: Last of the Lords - Battlelore
Tuor/Idril: Song of the Sea - Nolwen Leroy
Maglor, Elrond and Elros: The Magic Lullaby - Eurielle
Thingol/Melian: Cat People (Putting out Fire) - David Bowie
Nolofinwëans: Hey Brother - Avicii
Celegorm and Curufin in Nargothrond: (Do)minion - Eluvetie
As you can see, this playlist is completely random, jumping from lullaby to death metal to 80’s pop without rhyme nor reason. It’s just a giant melting pot of Vibes
And now, it’s your turn to play!
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Blessed Be: Chapter 4
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Pairing: Detective!Bob Floyd x Reader
WitchAU
Summary: Things take a dark turn as someone returns for what they’re owed.
Warnings: Swearing, Gore, Violence, Alcohol, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Degrading Themes, Witchcraft, Magic, I think that’s it?
- Chapter 3 Here -
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18+ only beyond this point
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Bob walked out of the house and down to the end of your garden, where the cliffside gave way to rocks and boulders of varying sizes, allowing access to the crashing waves below.
He stood looking out at sea with arms crossed and his eyebrows pinched as he thought about what Gillian had said.
“Pieces of Alex, dragged for miles…”
He rubbed his face and let out a frustrated sigh. Part of him wanted to chalk the deaths up to coincidence, in the hopes that there was no curse, but he didn’t really believe that was the case. If you believed there was a curse, then there was one.
Obviously Bob didn’t want to die a painful death, but the problem was it was too late. He was already madly and unconditionally in love with you, since the very second he laid eyes on you, and even before, your soles were tied and imprinted on one another.
There was no one else for Bob, and he knew if he even tried to walk away, or move on with his life, he’d end up right back here every time.
Bob didn’t want to even try and leave, he didn’t want to die, but it didn’t matter if he got to spend whatever time he had left with you. Even if he did leave, he was still doomed to die, as he was already in love with you, no amount of distance or time would change that.
Bob sighed, his heart aching from the sheer force of what he felt for you, and turned to look back at the house.
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10 minutes went by and Bob still hadn’t come back. Your stomach churned and you got up out of your seat and grabbed a shawl from the coat hanger.
“I’m going to find Bob.” You told your mom, and she nodded, a sympathetic smile on her face.
You closed the back door behind you and scanned the dark garden. Bob was nowhere in sight, so you did a lap around the house to check.
Once you’d rounded back to the cliffside, you began to worry. His car was still at the front gate, but he wasn’t here. Perhaps he had taken a walk down to town to clear his mind.
You decided to check, and began to walk down the winding road down the hill.
The night was silent, and the sun began to slowly peek its head over the horizon, casting a dark blue glow over everything.
Something felt off, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You couldn’t feel Bob. Ever since he had walked into your store a few days ago, you could feel him when he was nearby, the goosebumps, the hairs on the back of your neck, the heat in your stomach, but it wasn’t there now.
You picked up your pace as you got close to town, and began walking up and down the little streets until the sun was fully in the sky and everything was light and airy.
Children laughed and squealed on their way to school, parents chatting away to friends as they walked, the fishermen in the harbour coming back with their first catch of the day, but for once all of the makings of a normal day felt like they were masking something far more sinister.
By midday, your legs ached and you had checked every corner of the island you could think to check, and you were sick with nerves.
Where was Bob, how far could he have gotten without a car, and why couldn’t you feel him anymore?
Your mind raced to horrible possibilities, what if he was dead? No, he couldn’t be, you hadn’t heard the beetle, you have to hear the beetle! You kept telling yourself this over and over as you finally made your way on wobbly legs back up the road to your house.
You walked into the quiet house and your shoulders slumped.
“Bob?” You called hopelessly. Nothing. You wanted to cry, you were terrified.
Suddenly your Aunt Gillian popped her head out of the lounge, looking like death reanimated. She held her head and shuffled over to you. You wanted scream at her.
“Bree, I’m so sorry for last night. I don’t know what came over me. Did you find him?” She asked apologetically.
You shook your head, and suddenly the dam broke and you began to sob.
“Oh honey. Come here.” Gillian pulled you into her and held you as you cried.
“I can’t feel him anymore. He’s gone, Gilly.” You sobbed, your insides twisting painfully.
“No, honey, no. He can’t be, you would have heard it, you would have felt it.” She said stroking your hair.
“Is… is that what happened when Alex…?” You asked through your tears.
Aunt Gillian just nodded sadly, you could hear her heart beat speed up, and immediately felt bad for asking.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” You said, “I know I didn’t say it last night, with everything going on, but I’m so sorry.”
“I knew what I was getting into. I just… didn’t expect it to happen so fast. I thought we’d have more time.” She whispered.
Your mom appeared at the top of the stairs and she immediately made her way down to pull you both into a hug.
“I’ll make some tea and we’ll brainstorm.” Your mom said, disappearing into the kitchen.
As you and aunt Gillian followed, she apologised again, “I really am sorry for last night, it was so strange, I just didn’t feel like myself.”
You smiled at her, all forgiven, “It’s ok Gilly, I think I’d do the same if I… lost Bob.” You whispered, suddenly feeling sick at the thought that you might have already.
The three of you sat at the kitchen table, drinking the chamomile tea your mom had brewed to calm your nerves as you flipped through spell book after spell book for anything that would help.
After what seemed like forever, you mom stopped, leaned closer to the book and the suddenly stood with such speed it made you jump.
“Got it!” She exclaimed, tapping her index finger twice against the page.
You stood and leaned over the table to see what she was pointing at.
“It’s not foolproof, but if we do it right we should be able to see what Bob is seeing. Hopefully we can figure out where he is that way.” She said.
“Let’s do it.”
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Having found Bobs big wire framed glasses in his car, and a bottle of his oaky cologne in the glove compartment, you gathered around the kitchen table and placed the items in the middle, surrounded by pillar candles arranged in an even circle.
Along with this you placed the page of your diary with the love spell you wrote when you were younger.
You joined hands with your mom and aunt and they ran you through what you would need to repeat.
“Are you ready?” Your mom asked. You took a deep breath and nodded.
Your mom gave you both the signal to start the spell.
“Take my mind and make it free, place it where my loves should be. Mighty Hecate make it so, where he is I need to know.
Take my mind and make it free, place it where my loves should be. Mighty Hecate make it so, where he is I need to know.”
The three of you repeated the spell over and over and over, louder and louder each time until eventually you were shouting at the top of your lungs, and still nothing was happening.
Your throat hurt and you kept repeating it over and over, but your mom and aunt had long stopped, watching you desperately cry out those words, until eventually you let out a loud sob, gripping the table as you cried, feeling defeated and heartbroken.
Your mom was about to call it off, and tell you she’d find another way.
A single tear slipped from your eye, rolled down your nose and dropped into the centre of the candles.
A bright light blinded you and engulfed the room, and the candles blew out.
Suddenly, you weren’t in your kitchen anymore, you were looking out at sea, the dark waves below you crashing thunderously. You tried to turn to look around but your body didn’t move, and suddenly you realised it wasn’t your body you were in at all, but Bobs.
“Bob!” You called, but no sound came out.
“Robby, please, where are you?” You cried.
Suddenly a sound echoed in what you could only imagine was Bobs head, a low grumble that gradually grew into a meniacal, menacing laugh.
You recognised that laugh, it wasn’t Bobs, it was the sound you heard coming from Aunt Gillys mouth the night before, the psychotic cackle that sent chills up your spine.
You suddenly realised, with absolute horror, that it wasn’t Aunt Gilly either, not now and not the night before.
“Hello.” The voice cooed, “Its getting a little cramped in here.” He said.
“Are you… is this Alex?” You asked, trying to steady your voice.
“Clever girl, much smarter than that Aunty of yours. She didn’t even realise I was there, bouncing around in her mind for months.”
“Why are you here?” You demanded.
“I’m owed this life, mine was wrongfully taken from me! If Gillian had told me that I would die, such a painfully long death, just for being with her, I would have run. I should have been allowed that choice!” He became angry, his voice echoing loudly.
“Bree?” Another voice, sound and familiar this time.
“Bob?” You called, “Bob, I’m here.”
“Bree! I can’t see anything, what’s happening?” He cried, panic in his usually strong voice.
“Bob just hang on, okay? I’m going to fix this!” You sobbed, but his voice didn’t come back.
“Bob?” You cried.
“He’s gone darling, my desire to live is so much stronger than his. He would have given his life up for you. Pathetic.” Alex’s voice cackled again.
Just then Bobs body turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of the cliff side and trees on the ledge you took Bob to the day before.
“Fuck you!” You screamed, and suddenly you were being forced out by Alex, and you landed with a thump on your kitchen floor.
Your mom and aunt scrambled to your side, making sure you were okay.
You let out a loud, wracking sob as you fought for breath.
“It’s Alex!” You managed to get out. “Alex has Bob, I know where they are.” You gasped for air as you rolled over onto your knees.
Your mom and aunt followed you out the door as you ran as quick as you could.
“Wait!” Aunt Gilly shouted.
You spun around, already out of breath.
“What do you mean Alex has Bob?” Her hands on her hips, a confused expression on her face.
“That wasn’t you last night, Gilly. Alex has been with you since he died. He’s angry and he wants the life that was taken from him. I have to get to Bob before it’s too late.” You said, before turning on your heel and running down the winding road.
———————————————
All Bob remembered was turning to face the house, ready to walk back in and declare his love for you, and that he would not be scared off. He wanted to spend whatever time he had left being loved by you and loving you right back.
Instead of walking towards the house, his body turned back to the cliffside and walked down the stony path towards the boulders and rocks that gradually dipped towards the sea.
The next thing he remembered was darkness and hearing your voice. He was so relieved and tried to move towards it, but instead you kept getting further away, and then he heard another voice he didn’t recognise.
“Bree?” He called, panic washing over him. “Bree where are you?”
Nothing. Everything was deafeningly quiet, and pitch black. He tried to move around but felt like he was suspended in mid air, not gaining any sort of traction.
All Bob could do was wait, and think about how hard he would kiss you the next time he was given the chance.
————————————
You ran on tired, aching legs up the little path that led to the secret ledge you had shared with Bob. You stopped as soon as you had reached the grassy patch of land and your eyes desperately searched the small area for any sign of Bob. You doubled over and tried to catch your breath as you did so, gasping for the oxygen you had deprived your lungs of the entire 20 minute journey.
As you stood back up, you suddenly felt two large hands on your back, and you were pushed over the ledge. Luckily your hand found purchase on an exposed root, and you clung on with what little strength you had left, not to plummet into the violent ocean below, jagged rocks glinting menacingly in the sun, like teeth waiting to chew you to pieces.
Bobs head appeared over the edge, a crooked grin plastered on his face. It was Bob looking down at you, without a shadow of a doubt, but it wasn’t Bobs eyes. Two deep brown eyes replaced his sparking blue ones.
“God you really are incessant aren’t you?” He chuckled, and this time it was Bobs voice, as you were no longer in his head with Alex.
This made you shudder, but you had to remind yourself it wasn’t really him at all.
“Let him go, Alex. You can’t have him.” You gritted out as you exerted all of your strength to hold onto the root, which was becoming more and more slippery by the minute.
“I already have him, you stupid bitch.” He spat. “You Owens women are all the same, take take take! Selfish cows just thinking they are entitled to taking a mans life just so they feel wanted for once in their pathetic little existence. Your aunt told me about your mother, two men, TWO MEN she stole from. Two lives that could have continued had she just left well enough alone.” He was angry now, pacing up and down the length of the small ledge.
You were slipping.
“And you know what? As long as your blood line continues, this will keep happening. Because you’re all whores, selfish, disgusting whores. No. No I can’t allow it to go on, for the sake of humanity you have to be stopped.” He looked down at you, deranged eyes on the face you’d come to love so much.
He suddenly lifted his boot and stomped down on your fingers. You screamed as white hot pain seared through your hand, you gripped tighter as you felt your body slipping further down.
“Fuck you!” You cried, gritting your teeth together.
He lifted his boot again, and brought it down even harder, causing you to inadvertently loosen your grip.
You couldn’t stop yourself from falling now as the last of the root slipped from your fingers, and you closed your eyes to prepare for the impact.
——————————————
- Chapter 5 Here -
Taglist now open! Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed 💛
@wretchedmo
@seitmai
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munson-mayhem · 1 year
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If you read the little prologue to this story this is part 1 like I said over there I do not write but I’m trying it out I don’t know how to link the other one to this so idk man but here it is lmk if y’all are liking it if ya want more stuff like that 🤷🏼‍♀️
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Part 1 the true beginning
Day after day, task after task, raid after raid every day is the same and yet everything has changed since the day we lost Neteyam. I wake every morning greet the sully family, my family we talk eat our first meal of the day together and then we all split and complete our tasks for the day . Jake runs missions and training with the other warriors some days I go on missions with them when they need eyes in the sky and an Ikran is the best choice, Lo’ak is a warrior in training so he’s there some days too but others he’s spending his day with his spirit brother Payakan the talkun or even spending his days with Tsireya. When we’re not doing those things the older kids fish to provide food to the tribe. Tuk has lessons with the other metkayina children. But the one thing that is special is our Iknmaya training for our coming of age it’s also the only thing that brings all of us older kids together into one place and is for the most part peaceful. Iknmaya for the metkayina includes bonding with a tsurak their version of a warrior mount much how the Omatikaya have the Ikran. As well as other various tests with their Talkun brother or sister and so far Kiri and I are the ones being left behind , but even she is getting Tsahik training alongside Tsireya by personal invetation from the current Tsahik Ronal she says Kiri has a special gift a connection with Eywa which is true. So really it’s just me getting left behind. Lo’ak has excelled he’s done all the tests and rights with the Talkun all he has left is to bond with a Tsurak and he’s getting closer every day. Lo’ak, Tsireya, Aonung, Rotxo , Kiri and I make up one group of young adults training with the Ilu there are other groups with more young adults practicing. Jake and Tonowari decided this group would do us all good for bonding purposes considering it seems like Lo’ak and Tsireya will likely choose each other as mates as soon as they complete their Iknmaya. Most days when I’ve completed all my assigned tasks for the day I find myself on the far side of the island where it’s almost deserted sitting on the rocks with my feet in the water thinking about all sorts of things my Family the sullys my new clan, my old clan, my parents, the sky people , the life I could have had with Neteyam of only we had stayed in the forest and there was peace he would take over as Olo’eyktan I became the Tsahik and we had the guidance of our family to help us be good leaders. Some days I dream of little children running around with his smile and laugh my eyes or his nose in these dreams our kids always favor him and I wouldn’t have it any other way, but that’s all it is a dream of something that will never pass. Im not sure I’ve smiled since the day we lost neteyam I don’t have any reason to.
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- [ ] I’m sitting on the rocks hiding from the whole village and so lost in thought that I don’t notice the shadow of something moving in the water near my feet until something touches my ankle. I scream and kick out my heel connects with something hard and I focus as it makes a disgruntled sound “ what the hell Y/N ?!” Aonung yells jumping up from his hiding spot in the water Rotxo pops up slightly farther away laughing a full belly laugh like me kicking Aonung in the face is the funniest thing ever which it might be. “ I’m sorry you scared me I didn’t mean to” I yelped as I jumped into the shallow water rushing to Aonung, he had his hand pressed agains his nose as he was standing there in mild shock. “Let me see Aonung” I demanded once I got closer he took a step back and hissed at me, I pause and raise my hands “ please let me look I promise I didn’t mean to and I can help” reluctantly he lowers his hand and I see some blood running from his left nostril. I grabbed his arm and start waking towards the rocks dragging him as I go “ I’m sorry Aonung sit here and I’ll go get something to stop the bleeding or something to plug your nose with, maybe a poultice would help”. “y/n“. “I should never have gotten so distracted” “ y/n”. “Maybe I can …” “ Y/N!” Aonung yelled I look at him slightly shocked “what?” “It’s stopped on its own I’m fine” he mutters “oh” is all I can say as I realize I’m standing between his knees pushing him by his shoulder onto the rocks him slightly shorter than me while he’s sitting down. I take a step back and look down and watch the water flow over my feet like it’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen. I somehow seem to have forgotten Aonung’s best friend Rotxo was there until he walks up next to us “ bro she got you good” he exclaims still laughing at the other boy, “ bro ? you two have been spending to much time with Lo’ak” I giggle as I look between the two they look at me like they have never seen me before or like I have another head “ what ?” I ask rolling my eyes “ have I grown another head ?” “no” both boys answer but it’s Aonung that actually gives me an answer “you haven’t smiled or laughed in a long time it’s good to see again”. I look at him strangely for only a moment more “ you right. I haven’t had much to smile about but I think I should start finding some reasons to or I’ll lose myself to my own mind “ I say to them while looking to the stars “ “even if it is to laugh at one of my friends being an absolute skxawgn” sneaking a glance at aonung as I say that last part.
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Must Read Fics
I asked, ya'll answered. Here's the list. More under the cut cause it's long. Enjoy.
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@lovesouthernsweettea
Play Crack the Sky by WeAreTheCyclones
(23/23 I 122,787 I Mature I Sterek)
Excerpt from “Hale Pulls the Plug on the Future of Rock,” Rolling Stone, Issue 1203 – Oct. 2014 “Fans and music industry vets alike are left reeling in the wake of bassist Derek Hale’s sudden departure from Smokes for Harris. At a time when the foursome from Beacon Hills, California seems to be on the cusp of rock superstardom after just one double platinum record, Smokes has everything to lose.”
Excerpt from “Smokes for Harris: Gladiator,” SPIN.com – Feb. 2015 “Smokes for Harris gives in a little to the pop punk of yesteryear in their sophomore effort, but rather than pandering to fans of a lost era they elevate the genre in a way that hasn’t been seen in quite some time. Frontman Stiles Stilinski works double duty as singer and primary songwriter and proves that he can handle the task even without former bassist Derek Hale."
@dereles
Safety in Silence by Survivah
(5/5 I 66,901 I Mature I Sterek)
It's perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn't want to be Derek's soulmate.
@ceriat
The Moon's Gonna Follow Me Home by turningterrific
(2/2 I 82,866 I Explicit I Sterek)
Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.
He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.
Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.
He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.
And then he leaves.
@kitchenisking
A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse
(29/29 I 115,506 I Explicit I Sterek)
"I'm sorry, I believe there's something wrong with my hearing," Stiles said. "Because I could have sworn you just told me you set up a betrothal agreement with the Hales. A betrothal agreement involving me. Me."
Scott smiled his easygoing smile and nodded, which told Stiles no, he hadn't misheard a damn thing.
After seven years of lengthy negotiations, the treaty between the Hales and the Argents has fallen apart and the two countries fell into war.
Months later, there's an uneasy truce, thanks to the intervention of King Scott McCall, but it won't last. In a desperate attempt to maintain the peace, the Hales sign a treaty with the McCalls to marry Prince Derek to Prince Stiles Stilinski, King Scott's brother.
In the history of the world, there have been many better ideas.
@minmu
It's Insanity, but... by rosepetals42
(12/12 I 79,678 I Mature I Sterek)
The doorbell interrupts what had turned out to be quite the epic shoe hunt but, really, he’s grateful for the break. Or at least, he is until he heads down the stairs to grab the door, trips over a stuff animal of some kind, bashes his head on the wall and barely manages to catch himself from falling down the entire flight of stairs. As with all things, Stiles would like to state, for the record, that this is Scott’s fault.
Or: Scott and Stiles are raising seven children. Derek is the entertainer they hire for a birthday party (not a clown though, he's very specific on that fact.)
@noyzinerd
walk me down your broken line by geordielover
(1/1 I 18,411 I Explicit I Sterek)
The kissing. That’s important, very important. Not that the homicidal lycanthrope dragging him through dirt and fallen leaves isn’t important, but the kiss that follows? The path to this monumental push of lips on lips began even before this ill-fated venture to the Hale house.
The douchebag manhandling him through the forest, hand clamped tight around Stiles’s throat to keep him from screaming, is just a bonus.
@idoobeg
The Cool Kids by thankyouforexisting
(1/1 I 14,375 I Teen I Sterek)
Laura was four when her parents brought home a baby. [...] The next day, she grabbed a basket and put her brother in it. The four month old baby blinked sleepily at her, and she grinned, “Hey, brother. This is for my own good,” she’d heard something like that yesterday at the movies, and it sounded cool. She carried the basket into the Preserve, taking care not to wake her sleeping parents, and walked for a while before setting it gently on the ground. “Animals of the forests!” she cried, “This is my offering to you! Take this baby in exchange for my family’s safety!” // Laura has tried to abandon her siblings 13 times (each), has convinced Scott that life isn't real in 8 occasions, and she's made her parents wish they'd stayed childless about 1000 times, but not really. A story in which little Laura grows up, and learns.
@stilesxderek
ONE WEIRD TRICK TO CALM YOUR MIND! by DaaroMoltor
(1/1 I 13,138 I Explicit I Sterek)
The result of the quiz isn't particularly convincing.
What his dick does in response to the gif below is harder to argue with, however.
Derek doesn't help.
@cyppi94
Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
(2/2 I 81,018 I Teen I Sterek)
Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth.
“Not too close, he bites.”
Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting.
“He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton.
The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.”
“Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek.
He looked extremely displeased.
@wolverinesrogue
He's Not Mine by Sunnee
(19/19 I 68,534 I Explicit I Sterek)
Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.
@kevaaronday
Indelible Marks by billtheradish
(87/87 I 275,695 I Mature I Sterek)
The house never burned. The pack is strong. Derek will never need to be the alpha, and his sister is a troll. (Actually, most of his family is like that.)
Derek is an apprentice tattoo artist, and Stiles isn't old enough to get ink of his own yet. But that doesn't stop him from being interesting...
@could-we-please-not
Prince Among Wolves by Wrenegade (Wrenegadeone)
(20/20 I 101,000 I Explicit I Sterek)
Looking for full day/evening sitter. 2 twin boys age 4. Must have exp. w/werewolves. Must be human. No pedophiles. No teenage girls. Pay negotiable.
@apathyvsempathywarinside
Actions Speak Louder than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
(25/25 I 435,625 I Explicit I Sterek)
“I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”
That was a bad word. Not found.
Have.
Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.
One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.
@shesosquare
Didn't See That Coming by knittersrevolt
(43/43 I 83,838 I Explicit I Sterek)
Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him.
He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.
Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?
@shealwaysreads
(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll
(9/9 I 78,759 I Explicit I Sterek)
The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time.
Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.
@relatively_einstein
Two Minutes for Holding by captaintinymite (augopher)
(18/18 I 121,498 I Explicit I Sterek)
There were three things college hockey players Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski knew for certain. 1) Their lives revolved around hockey, 2) They were madly in love, and 3) Derek was so far in the closet he might never find his way out.
They'd been together for two years now, and for two years they'd been a secret with only a few people knowing about them. Yet Derek's fear kept them from moving forward: fear of his family's rejection, fear of his sexuality tanking his father's career, fear of the rampant homophobia in professional sports. The ruse was growing thin.
Something had to give.
Or: The story of how one epic NCAA Championship run and college, served as the backdrop for some of life's great hardships.
Ink Blossoms by Triangulum
(1/1 I 24,514 I Explicit I Steter)
"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.
"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.
"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."
"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."
Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.
"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.
"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.
Aggressive Support by Merwin_Me
(1/1 I 6,290 I Not Rated I Chris/Noah)
When Chris and Noah start dating, Stiles and Allison make it their business to keep anything from interrupting their dates. Peter's just along for the kicks.
------
His dad was nervous for this date. As nervous as he had been whenever he and Claudia had decided to have a date night. His parents had never stopped being that awkward, loving, first time out couple together. And now it seemed like his dad was going down that road again, falling in love—Stilinski men fell in love hard whenever they did—dating, oh god doing to do no don’t go thinking that.
@thoughts-ideas-statements
Home Across the Universe
@savileho
I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek
@xbeccaritax
The Mating Privilege
@comfyb
The Searching Ceremonies
@jinkeke
Naughty Hookers (Swathed in Wool)
holding back the wind by race_the_ace
(1/1 I 22,314 I Explicit I Sterek)
Sometimes people fall in love young and that changes everything. This is the story of how it changed everything for Stiles and Danny.
@irat-that-s-me
Red String verse
where thou art, that is home
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sky-poprocks · 10 months
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as always a warning to anyone who joins the sky party, yes it iS VERY CUTE. but MAY cause issues due to the lighting.
In one of the rooms of the office there is an item that if interacted with will cause issues with photosensitive folks! It gave me a migraine so be warned if you can handle everything else
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cardansriddle · 9 months
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Gilded Serendipity - (tom riddle x oc)
Part 1/10: "The Element of Surprise"
Story summary: A summer meant to be spent in the tranquil seaside mansion of Rosier's was not supposed to sway hearts like rustling leaves. Sereia Nova was most definitely not supposed to feel drawn to Tom Riddle. Yet August had a way of weaving chaos and desire together, only to dissolve into the shadows, leaving behind a bittersweet aftermath- an ephemeral illusion of love.
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chapter warnings: none for now.
A/N: a new summer au series!!! this will be posted on wattpad as well so read wherever you feel more comfortable reading.
:☆゚:☆゚:☆゚.
Salt air breezed past as the waves of the sea crashed against the rocks, creating a melody that only summer could conduct. There was a certain symphony in the sun-drenched season, a sound not many could pick up and appreciate. 
Sereia Nova had always adored summer. There was something so inherently captivating and enchanting about the season that made it the best time of the year. She gazed at the cerulean waters that stretched endlessly, meeting the vast expanse of the sky in a seamless horizon. She could feel the soft sand beneath her feet and the cool touch of seawater lapping at her ankles.
With a contended sigh, she finally turned her back to the sea to face the mansion standing in front of her. The Rosier summer house stood regal near the shores of Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat— a commune on the French Riviera that was mostly populated by wealthy aristocrats. 
The holiday house had a classic French architectural design, adorned with intricate details and sweeping balconies with a view of the vast garden around the mansion and the sea stretching after it. Sereia had spent a few summers here before, but despite seeing it all before, each time she was just as fascinated by the place just as she was the year prior. 
Her family had always had close ties with the Rosiers, and that had only meant Antoine Rosier and her had grown up alongside one another. They had cultivated a sibling-like relationship, a bond that remained unwavering even when they were sorted into different houses.
"Ria, come back inside! Our guests are about to arrive anytime now!" A familiar voice called out to her from the terrace, and she cast a wistful glance at the sea before dejectedly walking towards the mansion.
Majestic columns, adorned with delicate floral accents, framed the mansion's entrance, and as Sereia got closer, she could see Antoine leaning against one of them with crossed arms across his chest. "Well, finally. There you are." He sighed like a disapproving parent, popping one hip and placing a hand over it. 
"I am not exactly eager to greet five Slytherins who are about to disrupt all peace and quiet in the house." The girl huffed, coming to stand next to him to await the guests. She instantly regretted doing so, as the wizard ruffled her hair and placed an arm around her. 
"Oh come on! They are not that bad!" He tried to placate her. "You are friends with Wal and Dahlia are you not?" At her reluctant nod, he grinned, "You only have to tolerate the boys." 
"They behave like children," She scoffed distastefully. Truly, the Slytherin boys were a spoiled bunch of immature wizards. They took pleasure in tormenting the less fortunate and considered themselves superior to almost anyone. She regarded them as nothing more than foolish schoolboys in dire need of a reality check.
"All with due time, Ria. By the end of the summer, you will all be best mates." 
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Antoine." 
He scowled at Sereia's stubborn nature but before he could attempt to convince her any further, his attention was diverted by a sudden flash. Clapping his hands together, he startled the girl before him, only to swiftly spread his arms wide in a warm, welcoming gesture. "At last!" 
"Antoine!" Dahlia Greengrass squealed with unrestrained delight. She was the first of the group to walk towards the pair, her kitten heels clicking against the ground as she pulled the wizard into an embrace. Sereia had long suspected her to harbour romantic feelings for Rosier. "Oh, what a beautiful place you have here! Thank you for having us." She smiled, ever the polite and gracious girl that she was. She then turned to the witch standing beside him. "Sereia, I have missed you!"
Sereia felt arms wrap around her, and she responded with an equally warm embrace. "I am glad you're here," she expressed as they stepped back from their hug.
"Salazar, mate, your parents are saints for letting you have this place all to yourself for the whole summer." Avery slapped the boy's shoulder in approval, causing Antoine to grin cheekily. 
"What can I say, I work my charms."
Nicholas Avery turned to Sereia, his eyes giving her an appreciative once over before a smirk tugged at his lips. "Well, hello there, Nova."
The witch rolled her eyes at his familiar antics. "Do not even think about it, Avery."
More greetings were exchanged with Abraxas Malfoy and Walburga Black, and then there was one guest that remained. Sereia sucked in a sharp breath when her eyes settled on Tom Riddle. The wizard was oozing with mystery and an irresistible magnetism that seemed to cast a spell on everyone in his proximity. She had scarcely ever interacted with him— had been content to observe from afar. His face was beautifully structured, with sharp lines and high cheekbones that sent any girl's mind reeling with infatuation. Yet beneath the veneer of his extraordinary looks, Sereia had always sensed an underlying enigma that didn't quite match the flawless exterior.
His gaze fleetingly brushed over her, a moment so brief she wondered if she had imagined it and then with elegant strides, he glided towards Antoine. She tuned out their brief conversation, attempting to reel herself back into reality. When her eyes found him again, he offered a curt nod in greeting—no more than that, not even a simple 'hello'—before he followed the others into the mansion. She felt a jab in her right side jolt her out of her thoughts. 
"See?" Antoine opened his arms wide, gesturing towards the guests. "They are pleasant and you are not irritated by them."
"Give it a few hours, Tony." She sighed. "In Avery's case, give it one drink and he will be insufferable." 
"Ever the optimist, Ria."
Her reply took the form of silence as she slipped past him, crossing the threshold into the mansion. Climbing the spiral stairs, she could only think of how she would get to have a few moments of peace in the sanctuary of her chambers. She distinctly heard Antoine giving everyone directions for their respective rooms before—
"Ria!" 
She halted mid-step, her body half-turning to acknowledge him. "What now?"
"Riddle and Dahlia are staying in the guestrooms in the West Wing, show them to their rooms, will you?" He smiled up at her, trying to appease her with his soft expression, and Sereia felt herself reluctantly give in.
"Alright, follow me." The words had barely left her lips when she felt a graceful arm loop through hers, and Dahlia's voice animatedly filled the air, sweeping Sereia into a conversation. 
"I can just sense it in my bones, Sereia, this summer is going to be so good. I mean when had our parents allowed us all to stay together for a whole month without supervision? Antoine said he had the finest wine brought all the way from Bordeaux. Imagine all the—"
The Nova girl subconsciously tuned Dahlia's rant out as her eyes settled on Riddle walking quietly by her side. His expression was impassive, and it was not hard to guess that he was agitated with Dahlia Greengrass' endless chatter. 
"—Does that not sound exciting, Sera?"
For the second time that day, the witch snapped herself out of her trance. "Oh? Yes. Most definitely." She replied mindlessly as they halted in front of an ornate oak door. "Well, Dahlia, this is you. Antoine has planned dinner, so take your rest for now. We will meet downstairs in an hour."
"Thank you." She beamed. "Which one is yours? In case I need to consult you in choosing a dress to wear."
She pointed at the room across hers. "That one."
"Alright, sweet! I will see you soon." With one last flashing grin, she slipped into her room.
Sereia realised a second too late that she had been left alone with Riddle. She deliberately averted her gaze from him, focusing her attention on the path that led to the room adjacent to hers. "This one is yours," she informed him, her voice crisp and resolute. His response came in the form of another curt nod, and he disappeared into the room without a further word. Sereia lingered for a fleeting moment, her gaze fixed on the closed door. "Prick." She whispered under her breath before returning to her own chambers.
With a loud sigh, she sank onto her bed, her eyes tracing the patterns on the ceiling above. "Merlin give me patience."
:☆゚:☆゚:☆゚.
A painful jab to her shoulder awakened her from her slumber. She had not even noticed that she had fallen asleep while in her reverie, and as her eyes fluttered open, the scowling face of Antoine greeted her. 
Sereia groaned. 
"I should have known you would fall asleep at the first given opportunity." The Rosier boy berated her like a disappointed mother. "Get up and ready yourself for dinner." When his words did not receive a response, he impatiently tugged at one of her curls. "Ria!"
"You are the bane of my existence." 
"Likewise," he retorted with a snort, striding toward her wardrobe. With a firm pull, he swung the closet doors open, revealing an array of dresses. "What colour?"
"Blue."
Rosier grinned before pulling out a royal blue dress crafted from a rich royal blue fabric that cascaded with a graceful drape before giving it a once-over. Once he was certain he approved, he laid it down on the bed. "Be downstairs in ten or I will tell the house elves to duck a bucket full of ice over your head." With his threat said, he left the room ceremoniously. 
The witch begrudgingly got up from the soft bed, resisting the urge to groan again at having to leave the snug comfort of her sheets. She approached the large vanity next to the closet and with an intent focus, she set to work on her appearance, determined to mask any lingering traces of sleepiness from her features and tame her unruly hair. Only once after she was satisfied with her appearance did she put on the gown, struggling with the laces for a good few minutes. 
The bodice of the dress was tailored to accentuate the natural curve of her figure, cinched at the waist to create a flattering silhouette. The neckline, a demure V-cut, offered a tasteful glimpse of her collarbone, allowing a delicate silver star pendant— a family heirloom— to catch the light as it rested against her skin.
When she finally descended the stairs leading to the foyer of the manor, she could feel before she could see that they were staring at her. The chatter had quieted down with the first clacks of her heeled shoes against the marble, and when she tilted her head up, she realised she was the last to arrive. Her eyes met Riddle's momentarily, who was caught staring yet seemed unashamed about it, an almost appreciative glint in his eyes. Sereia had to swallow down the heat rising in her body that stoked hotter with every second his dark gaze clung to her form. So she, in turn, took in the sight of him just as he did her.
Dressed in black from head to toe, he looked regal, with his hands clasped behind his back. Sereia found herself involuntarily tracing the lines of his pale face—the sharp cheekbones and the defined jawline that seemed to gain a touch of allure beneath the bright chandelier light. Even without interacting with him, Sereia could feel the enigmatic atmosphere that enveloped him. If mystery were personified, it might well have taken on his form.
Antoine was the first to break the deafening silence. "The sleeping beauty has graced us with her presence at last!" He mockingly clapped as she came down the last two steps. 
"Shut it, Tony."
"Yeah, Tony." Nicholas chimed in with a smirk, finding his own unnecessary comment humorous. 
Rosier shot him a glare. "Nicholas."
"Do not start bickering, you two. Let us just have dinner." Walburga Black interrupted before the two wizards could enter a verbal contest between each other. 
Antoine gracefully led everyone into the dining room, and everyone's gaze strayed towards the table that was full of food. The tantalizing aroma of mouth-watering delicacies filled the air, and the guests, no doubt famished after their travels, dug into the food as soon as it was appropriate. Laughter and animated chatter were quick to enliven the room once again.
As the minutes danced by, time seemed to melt away as Sereia felt herself ease into the company of the Slytherins gradually. She found herself being pulled into a playful dance of witty banter with Avery and Malfoy before her attentions were stolen away by the girls. They whispered amongst each other, indulging in gossip as if they were middle-aged women having a tea party. 
Yet she could not help but notice that whenever her gaze drifted toward Riddle, he appeared to be the least engaged, offering mere one-word responses. Occasionally, if someone's remark managed to amuse him, a fleeting smirk would tug at the corners of his mouth.
As the evening wore on, the group seemed to lose count of the glasses of wine consumed. Sereia grasped the moment to wordlessly slip out of the room and onto the balcony, her exit as unobtrusive as a whisper carried on the wind. The caress of the gentle sea breeze soothed her flushed cheeks. Leaning against the railing, she surrendered to the cool embrace, letting her eyelids flutter shut.
"Sneaking away?"
Startled, her eyes flew open, and she turned swiftly to find that Riddle had somehow followed her out there without her detecting his presence. The girl placed a hand over her heart, feeling it beat erratically beneath the flesh. His eyes briefly flicked down where her hand was placed over her heaving chest, before settling back on her face.
"You scared me."
He hummed and then moved to stand beside her, his gaze shifting to the expanse of the sea. "You didn't answer my question."
She shrugged. "I just needed a moment." 
"For?"
She rose a brow at his questioning. "Are you always so demanding?"
"Yes."
She huffed in amusement before averting her eyes from his profile to watch the rhythmic dance of the waves meeting the shore. It was quiet for a minute, with both of them enjoying the cool air caressing their skin.
It was Riddle who broke it first, his voice only a tone above a whisper. "A siren or a star?"
She glanced at him, brows furrowing in confusion. When he caught her questioning look, he turned so he would fully face her and he clarified. "Your name. Sereia Nova—" Sereia had to inhale deeply at the sound of her full name rolling from his lips, at the way his voice seemed to carry a certain allure, almost seductive in its timbre. She tried to redirect her focus to what he had asked. 
While she knew that "Sereia" meant a siren in translation, she had never understood the reason her parents had chosen that name for her. Her family name, on the other hand, Nova, depicted a bright start bursting powerful energy. Yet this was the first time anyone had given it any thought— including herself. 
"Which one are you?"
The witch lifted her gaze to meet his hovering form with a slight smile dancing on her lips; playful, challenging. "Why don't you figure that out yourself and tell me?" She dared him, her gaze unwavering, before she sidestepped him to reenter the room. His hand, by mere coincidence or calculated intention, brushed against hers as she passed, sending an electrifying jolt along her spine that set her senses ablaze. 
Sereia, sensing his eyes on her retreating form, thought that the summer could prove to be far more interesting than she had first anticipated. 
:☆゚:☆゚:☆゚.
PART 2
(the taglist for this series is separate, so let me know if you wish to be added!)
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francesminos-tt · 10 months
Note
about toxic! joffron;
can we have a moment between lucemond x jacegon x joffron? + a joff+daeron moment with his nephews and them talking (maybe) about children?
There were certain facts about Joffrey that Daeron came to know after their marriage. One, Joffrey was an insufferable brat who liked to bite his bedmate. Two, Joffrey was a lazy ass who could spend a whole day in bed. Three, Joffrey was a fierce defender of his family and loved his Velaryon brothers with all his heart.
Daeron crossed his arms as he leaned against the cold stone wall and observed Joffrey interacting with his brothers. Joffrey was wrestling with his alpha brother Jacaerys, while his omega brother Lucerys acted as judge, accompanied by a jury of two boys, one brunette and one blonde. The sun was high in the sky, the air dry enough to set Daeron’s throat on fire, but the Velaryons paid no mind to the scorching sun and hot weather. They laughed loud, especially Joffrey, who seemed to enjoy the company of his brothers very much. It was odd, to some extent, to see Joffrey tackle someone to the ground without menace. The wrestling match went on, and finally Jacaerys came out as the winner by straddling Joffrey and tickling him. Joffrey actually giggled and put his arms up in surrender.
Daeron couldn’t help but feel a surge jealousy rising from his stomach. In Daeron’s opinion, all emotions came from the stomach. The subtle pain when he was upset, the butterflies when he was excited, the nausea when he was anxious, and the sudden clench when he was jealous.
Jacaerys offered a hand to Joffrey and they both got up from the dirty ground. They went back under the tree shades where Lucerys had laid out a small picnic blanket. It wasn’t proper royal behavior to have snacks on the ground, but none of the brothers cared.
Joffrey accepted a piece of cake from Lucerys and popped it into his mouth. Daeron had no idea Joffrey even ate cakes. They seldom ate together, and in the rare occasions they did share a meal, it always ended in curses and sex. Daeron remembered one time that he nearly drowned Joffrey in wine by pushing his husband’s head into a wine barrel because Joffrey insisted on letting that handsome bard perform for them. Daeron hated the man and the seductive glances he threw at Joffrey. After putting on a nasty show of nearly drowning his husband in wine, Daeron had to kill the bard to preserve the image of the King. Joffrey laughed at Daeron’s hypocrisy with wine dripping from his dark curls.
“They are adorable together, aren't they?” Someone came next to Daeron, a man in a red robe with a small toddler clinging to his side and another baby in his arms, “You might think a married alpha will stop being so childish, but alas.”
“I don’t think anything.” Daeron replied, not impressed by Aegon’s sudden appearance. He didn't turn his head to properly greet his brother, partly because he didn't want to deal with his nephew. Seven forbid. Daeron hated children.
“I am sure you are mesmerized by your carefree husband.” Aegon said, amusement in his tone, “Because if you are looking at my husband with these love-sick puppy eyes, I might have to intervene.”
“Do you think father is a good fighter, uncle Daeron?” The toddler spoke, as if in cue with his mother, his voice clear and crisp like a bell.
“It’s not about what I think.” Daeron replied in the gentlest tone he could manage, “It’s about you, Jaehaerys. If you consider your father to be a good fighter, a good fighter he is.”
Daeron’s words were a bit too rhetorical to a toddler, but the boy clapped his hands and replied in an excited tone nonetheless.
“I think he is! Father said that I would be a good fighter too!”
Childish, Daeron thought. But then again, could a child be accused of being childish?
“You have been watching them for quite a long time, brother.” Aegon rocked the baby in his arms gently, cooing and kissing the baby’s round nose, “Why don't you join them?”
Daeron could think of a least a dozen excuses for why he hadn't joined his nephews, but all words died down in front of Aegon’s knowing smile. Since when did Aegon become so smart? Daeron decided that he liked Aegon more when his brother was a pathetic drunk head.
Daeron hadn't joined the Velaryons because he didn't know how to act around Joffrey who seemed to have no intention of biting his cock off.
Daeron might be an awkward man who didn't know how to handle his husband, but clearly Aemond was not. The one-eyed prince walked briskly past Daeron and Aegon straight towards the three brunette brothers, without sparing them a single glance. Aemond greeted Lucerys by kissing his husband’s hand, earning a string of giggle from Lucerys and two eye-rolls from the omega’s brothers. It was strange to see Aemond showing affection in public, not to mention such affection was for the boy he was supposed to hate. Daeron felt somewhat betrayed, really, for he seemed to be the only one who had truly hated Rhaenyra’s sons.
Jacaerys waved at them, and Aegon gladly waved back. They acted like a pair of silly lovers, which irritated Daeron to no end.
“If you will excuse me, brother, I need to join my husband in his merry ways.”
Aegon walked to the picnic blankets as well and sat down next to Jacaerys. Jacaerys pecked him on the lips before bending down to kiss their infant daughter. The two married couples soon enveloped themselves into two loving bubbles, leaving Joffrey alone with Jacaerys and Aegon’s boy Jaehaerys. Joffrey looked briefly in Daeron’s direction, their eyes catching each other for a split second before Joffrey looked down again and started talking to an overexcited Jaehaerys.
Even though their eyes only met for a second, Daeron was sure he had caught the challenge in Joffrey’s eyes. Join me if you dare.
Daeron wasted no time walking into the shades and threw himself on the fluffy blanket next to Joffrey. Joffrey smiled triumphantly, his lips curling up so nicely that Daeron wanted to rip the smile off his face.
“Look who finally decided to join us.” Joffrey said dramatically, “Us peasants not entertaining enough for a prince like you, husband?”
“Careful,” Daeron retorted smoothly, “you have included my brothers in your peasants claim.”
Joffrey laughed as he threw a handful of walnuts at Daeron playfully. Perhaps it was the steaming weather, or the suffocating love in the air that made Joffrey choose nuts as ammunitions instead of actual daggers.
“Stop wasting food, Joff.” Jacaerys scolded absently.
“Jace is right. It’s bad influence.” Lucerys said from where he was lying on top of Aemond, “Cover your eyes, boys.”
“It’s too late, Luke. I have already poisoned your sons.” Joffrey laughed as he reached out to snatch a small walnut off Daeron’s crotch and throw it into his mouth.
Daeron had never heard Joffrey laugh so openly and kindly. He had never been in the receiving end of Joffrey’s playfulness. The feeling was new and strange, but Daeron found himself intrigued by it.
Joffrey was good with children, unlike Daeron. He was patient enough to play the silly game of hide and seek with three toddlers while the children’s parents were exchanging little kisses and confessions of love. The air was filled the sweet milk scent of the children and the subtle herbal freshness of Joffrey, a bizarre but delicate balance. In the hot summer sun, surrounded by his deep-in-love brothers and their respective husbands, watching Joffrey chasing around small children, Daeron allowed himself to admit that he was, indeed, mesmerized by Joffrey.
Later that night, when they were back in the privacy of their room, their limbs tangled together like messy threads, Daeron asked if Joffrey ever wanted children.
“I can knot you to Old Valyria and back.” Daeron said, grabbing Joffrey’s hip hard enough to leave a nasty bruise.
“Don't get ahead of yourself, uncle.” Joffrey panted, his eyes cloudy with lust, “Your knot won't cure my infertility.”
“You never know.” Daeron bent down, his teeth inches away from Joffrey’s throat.
“But I do know.” Joffrey launched his attack first by wrapping his legs around Daeron’s waist and used the flexibility and strength of his core to flip them around. Now he was the one in charge of their sex session.
“Because it was me who made sure that I could never bear your filthy Hightower child.”
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cvlutos · 1 year
Text
“Heartslabyul’s Annual Valentine’s Day Tea Party”
| 02.13.23 | 0.7K | Rated PG |
Riddle Rosehearts X GN!Reader
Characters 18+ | Fluff | Soulmates | Poetic | Proceed with Caution, Beloved. |
T.Manor.Notes: YAY! I poured my heart and soul into Riddle’s!! Happy Valentine’s Day, Beloved!
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RULE 500: SOULMATES MUST PREPARE THE ANNUAL VALENTINE’S DAY TEA PARTY TOGETHER. NOTHING SHOULD BE MISSING, NOR BROKEN, AND MUST BE MADE OUT OF THE FINEST SILK, CLAYS, METALS, AND CLOTH. ZERO SUBSTITUTIONS.
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His hands are warm. Firm, like that of a strong oak tree that you once climbed as a child, with its thick trunk and sturdy branches that held your weight then and you were certain that even in old age, would—could hold you know. Ageless yet aged so gracefully as warm sun bleeds through green leaves, warming your skin and giving into your childlike sense of wonder. What could possibly be beyond its leaves, beyond the twisting and winding of branches? You know the answer. The clear blue sky.
Spring is when the thread shines the brightest.
The crimson rope nearly glowing as you spend your days staring at the winding red that wrapped around streetlamps and swished and swayed between lovers who have already found each other. A string that never strays, and you know what lies attached, the special one waiting for you. Calling for you, with every winding of the thread, every turning road it leads you down.
His hands are warm, the string tied oh so tightly to his left pink, like a crimson ring, as your threads wrap gently around both of your wrists and hands. Palms pressed tightly together. The trolley jostles slightly, the bag you're holding swaying in your grip, once again becoming aware of where you were. Sitting upon plush velvet seats, as open-air danced upon your skin and shifted your clothing. The trolley is crowded, overflowing with couples, lovers—soulmates. Some married for years and some married recently. Others only just now finding their other half.
Soulmates.
That word often sends a shiver down your spine, as your glance at the one who sat beside you, who silently gazed at his phone, staring at the checklist of all the things we needed. You glance at the large paper bag that you hold, filled to the brim with decorations. The small trolley once again rocks your shoulder and brushes against his, yet he remains unfazed.
The checklist had all the items needed for the Tea Party. Most of which you acquired, having run around all the Queendom all morning until early afternoon, hand in hand like children in a candy store. Eyes bigger than their stomachs as they stocked up on sweetest delights. Yet with no one to wave a finger in your face and scold you. You both strayed from the checklist slightly.
“You seem quite deep within your pool of thoughts.”
As if someone had popped your balloon, you snap out of your thoughts, shaking your head wordlessly. “Is something wrong?” Soft gray eyes that reveal so much to you. Concern, curiosity, love. All of each in which he wants you to see.
“… No. I was just thinking.” He tilts his head further, brows furrowing together, yet he doesn’t speak, merely observing you. Watching you gather your thoughts in a way that would make sense, he squeezes your hand. A subtle motion, but one that has your shoulders relaxing almost instantly.
“We’re soulmates..” It comes out as a breathless laugh, as if dawning on you, that your soulmate was none other than the Riddle Rosehearts.
“… We are…” There's hesitance, yet not of regret or dislike, but of embarrassment and joy. The apples of his cheeks turn a soft pink, as he does a quick glance to your hand—his hand—hands entwined. He thinks to move for a moment, his palm pulling away. You won’t let him. The action startles him, a gentle clap sound following as your reposition your hand closer, tighter than before.
“Your hand is warm.” He mutters under his breath, eyes moving away from you, as you blink.
What could possibly be beyond its green leaves, beyond the twisting and winding of branches? Beyond the red strings that followed closely behind as you climbed, higher and higher and higher. As you swat aside leaves, feeling branches scratch your cheeks. You knew the answer, yet it’s different. There are clouds. White fluffy clouds that slowly crawl against the blue sky. It’s different, yet—
“I'm happy… that we’re soulmates…“ There’s a breeze that blows, dances across your face, and ruffles your clothing, that makes Riddle’s words seem like a melody you have oh so long to hear.
And it is better than you expected.
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ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited
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candied-boys · 1 year
Text
🍯 Honey Cakes 🍯
Luke Randolph x fem! Reader
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Tags: merpeople au, lazy! Luke, happy! Luke, possessive! Luke, romance, picnics, cottagecore, eventual smut, happy ending
1500 words
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The sound of a babbling brook singing against the rocks, the bounce of tender moss beneath your shoes, the weight of a basket full of goodies in hand — each warming your heart like the gentle spring sun above.
Today is the perfect day for a picnic...
After all it is your only day off, which is why you're making your way through the royal forest towards the hidden lake. With the castle spires just barely visible over the lush green canopy you aren't particularly worried about getting caught trespassing.
Especially not when you discover the perfect spot on the farthest side of the water — a little alcove at the foot of the mountain’s steep rock face, shaded by evergreens and warmed by black granite. Far enough from the waterfall to stay dry but close enough to enjoy the view, you spread out your tattered and patched sheet near the edge and plop down.
Watching the clouds slip past has been one of your favourite pasttimes since childhood. After kneading the dough from the wee hours of the morning, popping loaves in and out of the wood fired oven, and preparing for the next day until the bread sells out, giving your feet a rest and enjoying the calm of nature is the perfect change of pace.
As the sun peaks in the sky you begin to grow hungry, so you rummage through the overflowing basket and pull out the food you packed — leftovers from last night's dinner, fresh bread to pair with homemade jam from last autumn's harvest, and the little round cakes Mrs. Baker gave you last night when they didn't sell.
The Bakers are the very sweet old couple you work for. They run one of the local bakeries out of the first floor of their house where you live in the cozy little attic. Since you have no family of your own and since their children have long since grown up and moved away, they spoil you like a grandchild when they can. This usually means that when the bread and pastries don't sell out before the end of the day you get to keep the leftovers.
By the time you finish last night's stew, a few chickadees have stopped by to steal the crumbs off your sheet as have a raft of ducks — no doubt hoping to plump up for the ducklings that will soon be born. Tossing the crust of your bread piece by piece out onto the water you watch them fuss over who gets first dibs. It's so much fun that you don't even spare your precious dessert, taking one bite for yourself and one chunk for the ducks.
The cake is heavier than the bread was though and it quickly sinks beneath the surface when you don't throw it close enough for the birds to snatch up immediately. This is even more entertaining, however, because the ducks dive for the bits of cake and show you their adorable tails.
Lost in the wake of the birds frolicking, you don't notice the subtle disturbance of the water nearing the rock ledge next to where you sit until a dark-red mop of hair pops out at your feet and says, “Oh, so it is you that threw that sweet stuff in the water.”
Too dumbfounded to shriek, you just stare at the man who crosses his arms on the ledge and looks straight at you.
Quickly regaining your senses you scold him, “Are you crazy?! What are you doing? You're going to catch hypothermia!! Get out of the water!!”
“It’s already the end of March. It’s not that cold no more,” he counters and lays his chin atop his forearms.
You're pretty sure the lake only just began to thaw this month, but he doesn't show any signs of chill — no shivers, no blue lips, no disorientation.
As you look him over you can't help but comment, “You… uh… have weeds in your hair…”
“Oh — just part of livin’ in the lake. So do y' have any more of whatever y're feedin’ the birds?” he drawls up at you while tugging the verdant leafs from his messy rust coloured locks.
“Yeah, I have more if you like,” you answer automatically and turn to fetch another cake from the tin behind you, but before your hand reaches the container you find yourself squealing.
“Wait!! Living in the lake?! What are you talking about?!!!”
“Oh, d'y think I'm human or somethin’?” he laughs and pulls himself up to sit next to you.
Taken aback by the sheer beauty of his emerald tail, it hits you too late that you might be in danger. The moment you try to scuttle away he catches you by the wrist and pins you beneath him.
Yet his gaze isn't threatening. His jade eyes aren't even on you.
Stretching over your head he snatches the tin full of dessert before sitting upright and prying open the lid as if he didn't just push you over and leave you lying on the ground.
For a second the idea of leaving everything behind and making a run for it crosses your mind. However, despite visibly being at least twice your weight and pure muscle, he looks fairly harmless when he smiles like that.
“Sho gwood. Wha ish dish shtuff?”
“They're honey cakes…” you reply cautiously as you pull yourself up and rearrange your skirt.
“Oh, I've heard of honey from the birds. The bees make it in some kinna nest, eh?”
Leaving aside whatever he is for the time being — if he's not a dream or hallucination — you tell him plainly, “Uh yeah… The honey we eat doesn't come from wild nests, but that's originally where you'd find it…”
He hums with curiosity, pale green eyes round and holding yours, urging an explanation.
“We make homes for the bees so that we can collect the wax from the hives. Then, we crack it open to get the—”
Frightening you enough to make you jump, he suddenly yelps.
You look around frantically for the source of his panic but discover the cause just as quickly when he turns the empty tin upside down and shakes it violently.
“I ate ‘em all already…?” he murmurs thoroughly dejected.
You'd think he was a six year old boy from his pout.
“I'm sorry. I don't have any more…’’
“Really? I can still smell honey though?” he mumbles looking all around.
Following his gaze to the basket on the corner of the sheet, you begin rummaging through the basket until you find the little pot of honey you packed with the jam.
“Is this what you smell?” you ask and offer the tiny jar to him.
He takes it with a broad grin, his touch far gentler than you expected it would be for the eager look in his eyes. You watch him, just as amused as you were watching the birds clamour for your crust earlier, draw out the miniature honey dipper and stick it in his mouth like a lollipop.
The way his eyes close and his shoulders relax is so charming that you almost forget he has a fish tail until you catch sight of it splashing in the water the way a happy child kicks their feet.
“So… uh… Are you real? I thought… merpeople were just a myth…”
He doesn't answer right away, his mouth full of sweet syrup, and the moment gives you pause to realize what you said is both very rude and quite pointless.
“Ah, What I mean is… why aren't you hiding from me?”
He shrugs, answering as he dips the wooden stick back in the honey, “Why'd I be ‘fraid of a lil' thin' like y'?”
Fumbling through your thoughts you eventually mumble, “I could tell others about you…"
He chuckles heartily and quips, “Y' really think they'll believe y'? They'd probably think y' just spent too much time under the sun or ate some poisonous weeds.”
He's not wrong.
“Why hide at all then?”
“‘Cause we dunna really like humans. They always end up tryin’ to turn us into slaves to do their biddin’. Y're all so obsessed with money.”
Reflecting, you're forced to admit that humans will attempt to make use of anything remotely intelligent for their own benefit, and quickly shake away the thoughts before they turn any darker.
“How do you speak the local language then if you never talk with humans?”
Finishing off the last of the honey he answers easily, “I dunna. Y' just think I do.”
“What?! Wait… Is that what you meant when you said you'd heard of honey from the birds?”
“Yup.”
He passes the empty pot back to you and slips gracefully into the water once more.
“Will y' bring more honey cakes again?” he asks with a yawn.
“If I come without the cakes, will you even talk to me?” you query honestly while thumbing the empty jar.
A cheeky grin is your only answer before he dives beneath the glittering, clear water.
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Part two...
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baka-bakeneko · 1 year
Text
In Heat - Alpha Jiraiya x Omega Fem!Reader [NSFW]
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cw: alpha/omega dynamics, age gap, scenting, breeding kink, peeping, alpha!Jiraiya, omega!reader, pregnancy talk, multiple orgasms, pet names, a tad bit cnc
word count: 2,568
synopsis: You, as Jiraiya's wife, decide to be the responsible one and take a week vacation for your heat. However, Jiraiya is less than enthused by this plan and being away from you.
a/n: i think my pupils might've permanently dilated at this, send help
part two here, part three here, part four here, extra one here
You were panting, sinking into the tepid water of the hot springs in your solitude. It was for the best, staying way off in seclusion during your heart compared to staying in the village.
It was more for your husband's sake, than your own as you worked your shoulders further into the water as steam rolled off the calming surface of it.
Tsunade suggested it, a secluded hut far in the forest that left you to your own devices. There wouldn't be alphas for miles, letting your bathe and dry, sweat out and whine on your own.
You had told Jiraiya the same thing, not telling him the location you were heading while you packed up your bag and slung it over your shoulder.
"Are you sure you wouldn't want company from an old man?" He asked, sat on the floor of your home.
You leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "I'll take all your company upon my return."
You had to remind yourself that it was for the best, despite the pitiful look the old man gave you as you left. You wouldn't trust yourself around him, knowing you'd take things way too far in heat.
Children were out of the question for you two, as if Jiraiya hadn't had his hands full with Naruto on a semi-daily basis.
You centered your thoughts, reaching for your washcloth to wet it then rest it atop your head. You crossed your arms before your chest and sank further into the water, finding solace in your temperature meeting its.
Your sweat broke easier that way, disguising the chills in the water as you stretched your toes. The approaching winter breeze slipped over the tall stone fence of the spring area, blowing away the steam of the water.
You shut your eyes for a long moment, reveling in the synthesis of your body and the water becoming one.
Your scent would be unrecognizable for miles, Tsunade said. The hut was off the well-treaded path, over three acres away from any landmarks noticeable.
You opened your eyes to stare across the dusty evening horizon, following the seemingly straight line of the fence reaching to touch the cotton candy sky.
That was until you noticed a flash of white duck down from the rocks.
Your eyebrows raised curiously, staring in the exact spot where you'd seen it. When you figured it was a bird, or a quick animal, your eyes shifted around the rest of the fence before it popped up again.
This time longer, and you narrowed your eyes at it before you recognized a pair of eyes.
"Jiraiya?" You questioned, raising your dormant voice to the white flash as it ducked down again.
You shifted in the hot spring, pulling yourself out of the water slowly to peer after him. "Jiraiya!"
Suddenly, the perverted old man sprung up from behind the stone fence, hand folded to his neck as he sported a nervous, caught grin.
"Hello beautiful!" He offered as you stared, deadpanned at your husband across the lengthy yard.
Your tone turned hushed and hurried, "What are you doing here? You can't be here."
You uncrossed your arm from your chest, still staring at Jiraiya as he massaged at the back of his neck, a trickle of blood seeping from his nose.
"I couldn't stay away, not from my beautiful girl," he tried, his grin only growing in wattage.
You growled deep within your chest, reaching for your towel to wrap yourself up. "So you followed me up here? You truly are a pervert!"
"Only for you, my dear!" Jiraiya called out from over the fence, his hands making the sudden movement to grip the stones and attempt to hoist himself over it.
"Not a step further!" You pointed out at him, scrambling carefully out of the spring and towards the hut. "I'm in heat, you know the rules."
Jiraiya's nose pointed at the air in your direction, his nose wiggling as he selfishly snorted your heady, wet scent. "But darling, you smell so good!"
You shook your finger at your husband, watching him trample over the stone fence to land on his stomach in the grass before the hot spring.
You backed away further from Jiraiya, now pinching your nose to not smell his scent in return. "Honey, no! Stay back, go home!"
"But why should I? My love is here!" Jiraiya pushed to his feet, making his way around the spring towards you.
You were inches away from the sliding door, close enough to sprint but not wanting to turn your back on your husband. Not wanting to turn your back on the strong, warm arms that were extended out for you along with the hardened cock that was fighting against Jiraiya's pants.
You hissed, your pussy aching at the sight of him. You waved your other hand out, trying to keep the short distance between yourself and him.
"No, Jiraiya! You old pervert, go home!" You ordered, pointing at him again in a silent order for him to at least stay still.
You made it to the doorway and hurried yourself inside, sliding the door shut and fastening the wooden slat in front of it.
Jiraiya's large body pressed up against the door, a wanton groan of rejection seeping through the wood. "My love..."
His voice was pitiful, not helping the ache in your body. You clenched your knees together, still backing away but keeping your eyes on the door.
"Go home, honey. I'll be home soon, I promise," you said, tightening the towel around your chest.
Jiraiya's shadow against the doorway never moved, his bloody nose squashing to the screen and dotting it with a dark red blossom stain.
You groaned, dropping your other hand from your nose. His aggressive scent seeped through the wood, attacking your nostrils with the familiarity of home, security.
Your husband was on the other side of the door, and all you wanted was to be home with him now. You wanted to curl yourself in his lap and bury your head in his neck, becoming one with him.
Jiraiya began to purr through the door, his hand resting against the screen, showing its distinct shape through the shadow that encroached with the diminishing sunlight.
"My love..." he tried again, his hand softly rapping down the door as if petting through to you. "Let's go home together."
You tried to remain firm, shutting your eyes and plugging your nose again. You opened your mouth to speak but your words escaped as a whine.
"You're not being fair."
A trace chuckle escaped Jiraiya's lips through the screen, his mouth puckering up as if to kiss you through the door. "I hate playing fair."
You hid a whimper in the heel of your palm, holding back from bowing to the floor and whining for him to come inside.
Jiraiya was quiet on the opposite side of the door for a long beat, too long for your comfort.
"Darling," he finally spoke, his voice gravelly now and lower to the ground. "You don't know what you're doing to me."
You tiptoed towards the door, met with the pungent scent of Jiraiya's hot cock through the screen. You whined lowly, hand pressed against the doorframe.
He shifted his free cock up to the screen, stroked himself once in the dimming sunlight while you tried (and failed) to ignore him.
You wanted to open the door, you wanted to embrace him but you knew that you wouldn't hold back.
"I want to feel you, I know you're dripping wet for me," his voice as metered through the door, not his boisterous normal self.
You stifled a growl, planted it deep in your chest as your skin dried in an instant.
"I can smell you," Jiraiya uttered with a loud sniff. "It's giving all my strength to not tear down this door."
You groaned, folding slowly to your knees before the door.
"I want to breed you, my beautiful girl," Jiraiya's voice dropped an octave, barely above a whisper through the door. "I want to see that pretty pussy presented for me."
You fought with your instinct, hands clenching at the stupid thought. "Fuck...Jiraiya, please."
His purr seeped through again, egging you a bit further to drop the slat on the door. You stared at the single wooden bar keeping your husband out, keeping you from the satisfaction from the ache that was worming from your hips and throughout your body.
You withheld a whimper, fingers trembling at the slat before you finally gave up and slapped it down.
As if patiently testing the door the entire time, Jiraiya slid the door open and crawled over the floor to you. He carefully nuzzled his head along your forearm, watching your shivers slowly return from the prolonged heat.
His fingers brushed at your cheek, a kind act compared to his natural demeanor. "You tried so hard, darling. Let me take care of you."
You glanced up at Jiraiya from the corner of your eyes, knowing that Tsunade wouldn't appreciate an alpha in an omega safehouse.
However, your protests weren't uttered as Jiraiya scooped you up in his arms and pulled you onto his lap.
You were overcome with him, wanting to take his relief and security and exploit it to your own comfort. Your towel caught on his hardened cock, blocking it from rubbing between your already wet thighs.
You raised up on your knees in Jiraiya's lap, panting before his mouth and offering your tongue as a simple connection. The old man obliged, opening his mouth and suckling at your tongue as you shifted closer on his lap.
"Take what you need," Jiraiya whispered into your mouth before kissing you fully on the lips.
You whimpered again, his cock slipping under the hem of your towel and edging just along the lips of your pussy.
Your arms crossed tightly over his shoulders, pulling yourself impossibly close with the tie of your towel coming undone. Jiraiya angled his cock just beneath your hips before you sank down hard, losing your breath in his mouth and your knees locking at the feeling.
It was immediate, a cheap orgasm wracking through you from your husband's cock penetrating you. Your fingers twitched at his shirt, holding still to ride out the miniscule high that felt unearned.
"Good girl, my very good girl!" Jiraiya praised, pulling away from your lips to kiss your blushing cheeks then misty eyes.
You attempted at a smile, following Jiraiya's mouth all over you and hoping to earn another kiss. Once your knees regained strength, you slowly rose up from Jiraiya's length then sank yourself back down.
He lost his breath then, wanting to let you set your own pace though it was agonizing to say the least. You tried again, raising up then slapping down again, making the room echo with the smack of your combined skin.
Jiraiya hid a grit of his teeth with each agonizing jostle, watching your breasts jiggle with each movement you made. It was getting to be too much with very little results.
"Forgive me, dear," Jiraiya whispered to your shoulder, his hands finding your hips before turning you around on his cock.
The feeling was intoxicating and agonizing at once, feeling Jiraiya's size reform you inside before you melded back to him.
Next was your hands bracing the floor, your ass above your head while you rested your knees. Jiraiya took a standing foot by your stomach, hoisting your hips in his hands before he aggressively thrust into you.
You squeaked at the sudden pace change, no longer yours and all Jiraiya's. Your hands braced the floor, looking over your shoulder to see your hips moving at an inhuman speed to match his.
"I will give you what you need now," Jiraiya huffed, pulling one hand from your hip to haphazardly tear his cloths away.
His other arm cradled around your waist, his forearm pressing in your stomach as you felt his thrust timed perfectly. You turned your mouth into your hand, stifling a errant high moan.
Your body felt electric to his touch, following his lead now. Jiraiya's clothes slipped down your thighs in teasing tickles to your prickled, hot skin. He returned his hand to your hips and resumed his original pace.
"You'd been avoiding me during this time, and for what?" Jiraiya asked, not truly wanting an answer.
He knew why you'd avoided him during your heat, knowing that it would end with a single inevitability if you two did anything.
His hand slithered around your front and tenderly pet at your soft stomach. "I will make you ripe with my pups, now. You're beautiful now, imagine nine months from now. The glow."
Your mind was numbing, tumbling at his words and the thrusts he was instilling in you. Each one came with a stiff pause, one that made sure each bit of precum achieved would be useful to a goal.
Your pussy tightened at his words, your body hearing what it needed to during this time. Your purr became rampant instantly, radiating out of you and reverberating through the floor.
Jiraiya chuckled outwardly, filling the room with the warming echo of his boisterous. "You like the sound of it, I know."
His pumps started to become more halted, holding tighter with each one, almost beckoning it to be the last. Your toes curled before then, your hips wiggling to allow more of him inside of you though it was impossible.
Jiraiya was stretching you, allowing your pussy to drench down both of your thighs at the animalistic need to be bred.
"I know, darling, you're ready for it. You're ready for my pups," his voice immediately choked, now aware of how hungry your pussy was for his cum.
He raised his foot slightly, gaining an extra inch closer to your cervix. His tip touching at it was hot, almost that of approaching a red sun.
Your back arched unfomrtably, bowing out further to feel him slot against your g-spot. Jiraiya's petting hand slid down and tenderly caressed your clit, causing you to immediately go cock-stupid and come ferociously on him.
Your body lost all strength in that instant, your eyes twitching and crossing while your hands patted at the wooden floor. Your toes curled, almost rearing your up from your knees at the chase of feeling full but Jiraiya held you tight like a bucking bronco.
He watched as you writhed on his cock, your pussy pulsing and milking at him, urging his cum deep inside. Jiraiya hid a roll of his eyes at the pleasure, finally stuttering your hips to his and shooting his hot seed deep within you.
You reveled in the sudden warmth you were gifted, your body allowing itself to come down though you twitched with each new spurt inside. Jiraiya held you onto him, even after you slumped to the floor, hoping he'd done his best.
"That will surely stick," Jiraiya stated proudly, waiting a moment longer before pulling out and staring at the sluggish cum drizzle that followed his cock.
Your body pulsated as one, feeling its rhythm lull you relax. Jiraiya made his home down next to you, staring into your face with his most genuine smile.
"My beautiful girl," he whispered to you, his hand trailing down your naked back and over your hip. "We'll go again soon."
As he stared at you, fighting off the sleep forming in your lustful eyes, Jiraiya thought of this as a novel for the ages.
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