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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It turns out that befriending a dragon is not as terrible or difficult as you would have thought. But people, unsurprisingly, will always still be awful.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

The first week of your internment flew by shockingly fast.

Maybe because you were always at War—a perpetual cycle of making some demand or other (that usually centered around a desire for the barest levels of personal space or agency) only to be met persistently with the ancient, all-powerful, dragon equivolent of >:(

The clothes and toilet situation were already a lost cause. You knew this.

But there were so many other little things. And big things too, sure. But you can never fully realize how much you’re truly under someone’s thumb until you want to head off to do something utterly insignificant and cannot.

For example, your first morning in captivity you’d tried to boil a pot of water. It was nothing fancy, just a small kettle kit you kept in your travel bags for making warm drinks and reheating rations into something vaguely edible. You’d collected some bits of wood from the heaps of debris lying all over the place and gone about lighting a fire. You’d only just barely managed to get the little sticks smoking when a horrific screech sounded from overhead.

And then, WHUMP!

The spiked end of a black tail came crashing down, obliterating your little fire and sending bits of wood flying in all directions.

“What the fuck, man!”

Tsunotarou curled around you to hiss at the flattened sparks like some unholy snake.

“It’s just for my tea! My tea!” you howled. “I wasn’t going to burn your stupid house down!”

He’s shifted into his human form again not long after, and he looked down his nose at you like a fussy parent—arms crossed petulantly across his pale chest.

“Fire is dangerous for humans,” he snuffed, absolutely indignant. “If you find yourself requiring flames for anything at all, call for me and I will lend you some of mine.”

“I would have been fine,” you beseeched, looking at the shattered remains of your little campfire with a grumpy pout.

“Lilia says humans often overestimate their own constitutions,” Tsunotarou grouched, expression dour and stony. You were about to ask just who or what on Earth this ‘Lilia’ was supposed to be, when the dragon dipped his head in close to yours and nuzzled along your throat. You could feel the pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin over your pulse. “Which is why so many of your kind are massacred for their own foolishness. Or fall victim to plague and famine. Or wind up being burned alive. I would prefer that you not succumb to such a fate.”

You gulped, and that had been the end of that conversation.

Another time you’d tried to scale the banister to reach the bathroom on your own. It had been going pretty well, all things considered. There were plenty of nice footholds and it all had sort of settled at a slope, meaning you weren’t really climbing a wall so much as very slowly crawling up an incline like a determined slug.

You’d nearly made it to the top when you were scooped up by the back of your collar and promptly deposited at the other end of the room.

Of all the languages you half-spoke, Dragon was not one of them. But the snarling and snapping in your face certainly seemed like the rather universal ‘what do you think you’re doing?!’

“I was just trying to go the bathroom!” you argued. “No fires or anything!”

Tsunotarou’s large maw ducked down to growl into your much smaller one. He let out a series of exasperated clicks and chatter, the sharper or which were punctuated by sprays of green sparks from behind his teeth. His nostrils flared and the blast of dry heat that followed sent your head spinning and your hair gusting out behind you.

“I wasn’t going to fall,” you finally said, because you had a feeling that’s what you were being lectured about at the moment.

The rumbling growl that followed sounded like it had traveled all the way from the dark trenches of his bowels, or maybe even the very marrow of his bones. You could feel the ground vibrating under your feet.

“Fine,” you conceded. You weren’t exactly worried he was going to eat you anymore, but there were certainly… other things. Many dumb ways to die. “I won’t do it again.”

He harumphed at you, his head bobbing in what looked a bit like a nod. And then he turned and raked a gigantic claw across your little makeshift ladder of debris, flattening it into nothing with one, fell, swoop. You’d groaned and let yourself collapse listlessly back into the ensuing cloud dust.

There was also the time you’d nearly had a conniption because you were sick and tired of camping out on a frigid, stone, floor every night when you were trapped inside a literal castle.

“There are dozens—hundreds—of rooms in here,” you’d argued. “There’s got to be a bed in at least one of them.”

Tsunotarou had simply rolled over onto his side and arched a wing into the air, as if offering you the warm hollow beneath.

“You’re not comfortable,” you’d hissed, and he’d sulked ridiculously for the rest of the afternoon until you’d managed to finally come to a workable solution.

As in, dragging every goddamn mattress you could find into the cavernous ballroom that he’d long since seemed to claim as his Favorite Spot. You’d turned it into a game—see who could find the most comfy things and make the biggest squish pile. Being nearly a dozen times your size and having twice as many functional limbs that were capable of grabbing things, naturally Tsunotarou had come out as the winner. But now you had nearly endless pillows and blankets to snuggle into at night, so who’d really come out on top?

“I’ve never bothered to build a nest before,” he’d mumbled to himself, post victory. He patted gently at one of the thick duvets he’d swiped, expression almost whimsical. “It’s quite nice.”

“See,” you’d grinned, bouncing up and down on one of the springier mattresses. “I told you this was better.”

And so chuffed were you that you weren’t heading to sleep with a rock as your pillow for the first time all week, that you didn’t even complain when late into the evening he sneakily dragged you out of your plush pile and into his—tail wrapped snuggly around your waist and tucking you tightly against his ribs. I mean, his nest was much nicer than yours. It was only practical.

So, as anyone could see, your week had been far from easy.

But after those first days, once you had finally gotten a hand on all his nonsensical rules and you’d in turn concocted equally as many ways to try and circumvent them just enough to make yourself comfortable, things settled into a kind of domestic tranquility.

And that was when time started to drag.

You’d read the handful of books in your pack a dozen times over. You’d counted the cracks in the ceiling (one-hundred-and-thirty-two of them). You’d counted the stones on the floor (six-hundred-and-five). You’d sorted those stones into piles by shape, size, color. You lolled back against your cozy pile of blankets and thunked your head miserably against your pillow. Once. Twice. Three times. Four—

“What do you normally do all day?” you complained.

Tsunotarou lazily blinked awake. He lifted his giant, serpentine, head and glanced pointedly around the cavernous room before settling back into his mountain of blankets with a contented huff.

“You just sleep?” you frowned, baffled. “All the time?”

He rumbled unintelligibly at you for a moment before digging his claws into his nest with a long, lithe, stretch. And then those scales began to melt away, and soon enough he was pale, and bare, and rolling his way into your lap with a contented little grumble.

“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, voice thick with the syrupy warmth of sleep. He stretched again, like a big cat, and settled his head more firmly against your thighs. “Raid cities? Burn villages?”

“…Ideally no,” you grumbled, hands falling habitually to start running your fingers through the silky soft hair pooling along your abdomen. “I mean, there have got to be other things dragons do. You live for thousands of years.”

He hummed, neon eyes slipping closed. He pressed his forehead demandingly up into your palm and you rolled your eyes before obligingly sliding your digits lower to scratch at his scalp and around the base of his horns. That seemed to be his favorite.

“I am not wanted much of anywhere, I’m afraid,” he said finally with a defeated little sigh. It didn’t sound particularly self-deprecating, just… accepting. It made something sad and small curl in your gut. “So what else is there for me to do? Other than while away the hours.”

“There’s got to be something,” you pressed, that eking irritation born from boredom melting into something that was a bit too close to genuine concern for your liking. “Don’t dragons keep hoards? Treasures? That’s a thing, right?”

“Oh.” He blinked himself back into focus, as if only remembering in just that moment. “That is true. Would you like to see mine, then?”

“Aren’t hoards, like, private?” you asked, hesitant. Trying not to bring up the glaring elephant in the room that was ‘Hey. Yeah. So my friends and I totally broke in here in the first place to steal from said hoard. Not that we knew there was a dragon here. But like. I did, in fact, come here as an adventurer and a thief.’

“Naturally,” Tsunotarou hummed. You could feel it vibrate all the way up your hip. His lips quirked into a little, crooked, smile. “I’ll take you there now.”

The Treasure Room was as elaborate and expensive looking as the name implied, and it seemed to be the one area of the castle that had been spared the grey desolation that had seeped through the rest of it. It was enormous—certainly larger than even the grand, cavernous, room in which you’d recently been residing. And it was lined wall to ceiling with every variant of wealth you could imagine—precious metals, ancients tomes, paintings from every great master through history, magical weapons, the finest of spell scrolls. You could probably buy the world at least twice over with its contents.

But the thing that caught your eye amidst the endless sea of gold was not a pretty gemstone or a treasure of old, but a little, black and purple, doll—perched atop a looming pedestal of silks and finery like a crown jewel. It was small and plain with curling black horns made of felt. A chubby little dragon miniature that was as ugly as it was round.

Tsunotarou noticed your inquisitive gaze and walked over to pluck the little, cotton, creature from its throne. He held it delicately in his clawed fingers.

“Ah, yes. This is Drago. Lilia gifted him to me after one of his jaunts through the human world.” He turned the doll over in his palms, brow tugging down a bit as he did. “I hope he hasn’t been too terribly lonely. It has been a while since I’ve come down here to visit.”

The great and powerful dragon of the Castle Within The Lava Lake keeping a toy keepsake amongst his most prized possessions was so strikingly adorable that you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the sight.

You brightened and turned on your heel to start making your way back to the ballroom and what remained of your adventuring gear. Tsunotarou made a noise under his breath that was too dignified to be a splutter, but what you assumed was more or less his refined equivolent. And then he was tagging at your heels with a perplexed look on his face.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something!” you chirped, mentally running through the contents of your bag and little sewing kits. Yes, there should be more than plenty to—

“To get what?” Tsunotarou pouted, and you realized belatedly that running off in the middle of him showing off his life’s accumulation of precious artifacts and accomplishments was perhaps a bit rude.

“It’s a surprise,” you said. “Just give me like half an hour to put it together.”

In the end, it really only took you around fifteen minutes of fussing. Drago was hardly a complex little thing, and you’d originally learned to stitch in a panic. Trying to mend holes in pants and leather was a lot harder to accomplish when you were being actively chased by bandits, or a raging Ace. In comparison, sitting merrily on the floor of a collapsed ballroom and shoving stuffing into a little ball of cloth was hardly a challenge.

You held out your creation—equally as ragtag and ridiculous looking as its inspiration.

“There,” you beamed, and pressed it into Tsunotarou’s hands. “Now he has a friend.”

A teeny, flesh-colored, blob. With strips of soft fabric for a cloak and a hastily stitched smile. A miniature bard, perfectly (?) encapsulated in his palm.

The dragon stared down at your offering with wide, green, eyes. He looked positively startled—so caught off guard that he didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone the bewildered expression flitting across his otherwise regal face.

“You said he might be lonely,” you hummed, rocking self-consciously back and forth on your heels.

“Oh,” Tsunotarou mumbled, black-tipped claws flexing around his new gift. He observed it carefully, like an aging academic might study some ancient, arcane, relic. There was still that strange look about him—like he couldn’t quite believe the little trinket in his hand was real. “I did, didn’t I...?”

When he remained silent after that, still staring down at your homemade abomination in awe? Horror? you couldn’t tell, you began fidgeting in earnest.

“It is kind of awful looking,” you rattled off, picking nervously at the hem of your cloak. “You can get rid of it if you want—”

“No,” he barked, and then paused, clearly surprised at the ferocity of what had come out of his mouth. That at least seemed to startle him out of whatever fog had settled over his brain, and he clutched the teeny toy firmly to his chest. He cleared his throat and started again, noticeably gentling himself. “No. I think I’d like to keep this.”

You smiled. “Good! I’m glad you like it! No one deserves to feel lonely—even little, toy, dragons.”

Tsunotarou’s lips curled into an awkwardly lopsided smile—like the muscles there weren’t used to tugging so wide. It lit the entirety of his expression with something so heart wrenchingly warm that you couldn’t help but feel like none of that had really been about the little doll at all.

You really should have known better.

If someone as illiterate and ill connected as your wandering gang of idiots could stumble upon the location of a ‘secret castle overburdened with ancient treasures,’ surely anyone even marginally more competent would be able to do the same.

You’d been at the tail end of your supply of rations. And while you hadn’t entirely meant to imply that you might just wind-up starving to death, the comment had been more than enough to send your dragon into a tizzy.

“Well, what do you normally eat?” you asked, and Tsunotarou frowned as he considered.

“My guards bring me sustenance when I require it. Ice elementals, goblins, stone giants,” he listed, eyes tracking your expression in hopes that maybe any of that sounded appetizing. Which it certainly did not. His nose scrunched up in thought. “Perhaps I should seek counsel with Lilia. He would know what to do.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, I know what humans can eat. I could just tell you.”

His face brightened. “Meat, yes?”

You nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Like that of a manticore?” he continued, excited at the prospect. “Those are particularly delicious. And there are quite a few nesting in the crags not far from here.”

His merry smile slowly slipped off his face at whatever pinched look had twisted up yours.

“Vegetation?” he tried. “There are ample bushes at the foot of the volcano. Most do have thorns, but I suppose you could pick around them.”

“…Maybe you should talk to Lilia,” you conceded.

So Tsunotarou had shifted into his scales with a promise to return post-haste and many fussy reminders that you should move as little as possible to avoid wasting any more precious nutrients. The great downbeats of his wings seemed to roll through the entire castle like a shudder, and then you were alone for the first time in nearly a fortnight.

You lazed around in the echoing quiet, drumming bits of random tempos against your stomach and occasionally humming snatches of obnoxiously raunchy tavern tunes that you’d never really managed to bleach from your brain. How had Tsunotarou done this for decades? It’d barely been ten minutes and you were already bored out of your mind.

There was a flash of shadow near the grand entrance, and you sat up enthusiastically—ready to greet your returning host. But it wasn’t a dragon at the door.

“Who the hell are y—” the words died in your throat, and you spat a muted curse. The Silence Spell settled over your shoulders like a grungy cloak. You could feel its sticky film along the back of your tongue like a fine layer of moss.

“Who the fuck is that?” one of them hissed, and you fought the petulant ‘that’s just what I’d been about to ask you, jack ass!’ that wouldn’t have made it past your lips anyways.

There were six in total—a proper party from the looks of their ensembles. At least two people in full plate armor, a waify looking elf with a thick spell book in his hands, and three others in various getups that weren’t quite cookie cutter enough to tell you anything helpful. You rambled at them irritably, silently, gesturing rather impolitely all the while. You mimed teeth, and claws, and wings, and stomped around like a beast in a play.

‘There is a dragon here,’ you tried to say. Because maybe they were just unlucky adventurers like you and Tweedle Dee and Dum had been—not having any real idea what lay beyond these castle walls. You mimed a giant mouth, like a crocodile. ‘And he will eat you.’

“What the fuck?” Armored Dude gaped.

You pointed irritably at Mister Elf Wizard, who was still very obviously concentrating on keeping you encircled in a mesh of absolute silence.

The itchy sensation clogging your throat eased and you let out a breath, which echoed loudly in your ears. Elf-Guy looked at you with something that was perhaps a shade or two off of sympathy.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to leave,” you replied instead, firm. “There’s a dragon that lives in this castle.”

“Of course there’s a dragon,” Armored Lady scoffed. “Why do you think we’re here?”

You looked at their heavy, expensive, armor. At the giant, shining, magical, weapons hanging across their backs. At the thin wizard who proceeded catch you in a Hold Person spell that was so fast and strong you couldn’t have dispelled it if you tried. And of course you tried. What else could you do? These people weren’t like you and your loveable idiots who managed to occasionally stumble their way into an adventure. These guys were the real deal. Warriors. Heroes. Dragon Slayers.

“God-fucking-damn it.”

But of course you’d been caught in Silence once again, so you were left cursing nothing.

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Twst Fantasy AU #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 3

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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 4 months

Note

could you possibly do a platonic gladers thing where reader was the first to come out of the box? like they came up with the note like teresa but “the first” if that makes sense 😭 anyway the reader is just sort of a parental figure to everyone? whatever gender you’d like to put and scenarios, the thought just popped in my head. ofc do this only if you’d like to!! pls don’t feel obligated!! love ur work <333 /p

HI LOVE THIS!! Thank you for the request ❤

Everyone loves Y/n

Platonic gladers x gender neutral!reader, set during tmr (movieverse)

3k - longish fic but worth it if you love platonic love 🫶

Warnings: discussions of Newt's suicide attempt; but more like the recovery after it, still please take care everyone, also language warning

1. Alby

You're the first one. Welcome.

You stuff the crinkled note back in your pocket just as you've done so many times before, re-examining it and hoping for some clue as to why you're stuck in here alone.

Except- you're not alone anymore.

The boy stands beside the Box, staring around the same way you did when you first climbed out, exactly 30 days ago.

Come on, Y/n. Time to go. You take a deep breath, resolving yourself, and you step out from where you'd been standing hidden in the trees.

The guy notices you immediately and takes a defensive stance, understandably hostile and scared. "Who are you? Don't come any closer!"

"Woah, hey," you raise your arms nonthreateningly, continuing to move slowly towards him. "It's alright."

"Where am I?" demands the boy.

"To be honest, I haven't got a clue," you tell him. "But you've got no idea how happy I am to see you."

His eyes narrow. "What?"

You shrug. "I thought I'd be alone here, forever."

At his silence, you continue. "So I've been here for a month. I was sent up in this Box, like you, with a bunch of resources and... hey, they've sent more stuff," you say happily, peering into the Box.

"Alright listen man," you say. "I don't really have answers for you, but I did start developing a routine for how to live here, and I'd love for us to work together."

The boy holds your gaze for a second, before giving a single nod.

You let out a sigh of relief. "Great, wonderful. I'm Y/n, by the way." You stick out your hand to shake. "Oh- memories. Your name is all you get, everything else is gone. But hey, let's make new memories here, together." You flash a cheesy grin and clap the guy on the shoulder.

You don't know how someone conveys sarcasm in a single look, but the new guy manages it just fine.

2. Minho

"Here, this way- shit."

You turn the corner and see the wall sliding into place, sealing off your exit.

"Which way now?" asks Minho, fear evident in his voice.

"Uh- that was already my backup route," you say honestly, backing away from the closed wall. "Just follow me, we'll find another way back."

You start down a lane, moving faster now, admittedly guessing your way through the paths and taking turns on instinct, aiming for the vague direction of the Glade.

Somewhere across the Maze a Griever lets out a screech.

"Yeah, okay," you mutter. Shuck. "In here, quickly," you direct, pushing Minho ahead into a smaller lane.

"Alright, here's the deal." You squat down, forcing Minho down with you, and keeping your voice low. "If I'm right, we're close to the Glade now. There should be a right turn at the end of the path next to us now, then a left and a straight shot back to the Glade."

"What if you're not right?" hisses Minho, wincing at the Griever's screech.

"Then we're dead," you say flatly. "Cause that Griever's in the same direction we're going. By the sound of it, we'll be running the path right beside it's lane."

"What."

"Look, Minho. Do you trust me?"

He hesitates, before; "Yes, fine. Let's go."

You shoot him a grin, patting his shoulder. "Perfect. Follow me, stay close."

You run through the route you'd explained to Minho, feeling your blood chill as you get closer to the Griever, its screeches becoming deafening.

You turn to check on Minho, who gives you a firm nod despite the terror you can see in his eyes.

The two of you turn into the final stretch, separated from the Griever by a single wall, and you sprint back to the Glade, heart pounding in your chest.

You collapse into the grass, breathing heavily as Minho falls in beside you.

"What the hell happened to you two?" demands Alby, running up to you and Minho.

You sit up. "Maze changed, and there was a Griever near the Glade," you explain. "Too near."

"Bloody hell," says Newt, hands balanced on his hips. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"

So far you and Alby have been the only people to enter the Maze. Today was meant to be a beginner's run for Minho, your newest Glader and technically the Greenie even though he's never acted like it. You wanted to build a team of Runners, to see if more people could help with searching for an exit.

You look to Minho, still bent over in the grass. "Let's talk in the hut," you say, patting his arm.

"What did you think?" you ask, after you've both gotten water and a few minutes to let the adrenaline fade.

Minho flicks his gaze up at you, before dropping it. "I freaked out. I don't think I'm cut out for this Runner klunk."

You hum softly, tapping on the table Gally had lovingly built and sanded until it shone. "Do you think everyone was immediately good at their jobs?"

"Running is different," responds Minho, dodging the question.

"You were fast," you say. "I think you'd beat any of us in a race if we bothered to test it out. And you've got a level head, which is the most important thing when you're in the Maze."

You lean forward. "But you also need the guts to set foot in the Maze in the first place. And Minho, you were the first volunteer to run with me today. That's exactly the bravery we need in Runners."

You're met with silence. "If I asked you to be a Runner," you say quietly. "Would you say yes?"

"You could be asking the wrong person," hedges Minho.

"I don't think so," you say.

"I- why? Why me?"

"Because I believe in you," you say simply. "I think you could do it."

The silence stretches as you wait for Minho's response. Then; "Okay, I'll do it." He gives you a nod, expression resolving.

You sit back, a mock-thoughtful expression on your face. "I mean, I said if I asked you, this was really more hypothetical-"

"Y/n, I swear-"

You let out a laugh, and Minho rolls his eyes at you, grinning.

3. Newt

Overtime, the Gladers have grown into a wider community, with new jobs and groups slowly added.

Alby steps into the leader position and you move into your gardening job, as well as mentoring the Medjacks on the side. You tend to pick up a little of every job, passing what you know to newly formed groups until they can develop on their own.

Minho's grown far beyond what you could have expected from him, moving on to memorising routes, constructing a scarily detailed Map, and hand-picking the new Runners.

Newt becomes a Runner too, and you almost lose him.

They're some of the worst memories you'll ever have, that day Minho ran in in the freezing morning, screaming for help. The Medjack hut was finished literally a day before, and the Medjacks themselves were barely trained to patch up the Slicers. So everyone turned to you... And you were so, so, out of your depth.

You'd built a temporary brace for your own twisted ankle from your first month alone in the Glade, but for this you were completely unqualified and unprepared.

It’s been months now, with Newt slowly healing overtime. You worked with the Medjacks to set up a few movement drills, but it’s been painstakingly slow progress.

“I want to try walking again.”

You lift your gaze to Newt in the dark. “Now?”

“I wanna go outside.”

You hesitate.

“Come on, Y/n, I barely got five steps in today before Jeff made me sit down again. I’m fine, I promise.”

“You’re fine when the Medjacks say you’re fine,” you reply.

“The Medjacks don’t know shit,” retorts Newt. “They’re just making stuff up as they go. That’s what we’ve all been doing.”

“I trust them,” you say steadily. “Alby and I chose them for a reason.”

“Y/n, can you please just let me outside.”

You let out a breath. “Fine. Take your crutches.”

You don’t go far; the ground is too uneven and the crutches slip in the grass. You end up dropping them near the top of a hill.

“Here, let’s sit.”

You reach a hand out to Newt, which he thankfully takes, letting you help him down so you’re both lying back on the grass, facing up at the night sky.

“It was a good idea,” you say, breaking the silence. “I get why you wanted to come out.”

"Yeah," says Newt. He jerks his chin upwards. “The stars, they’re what I’m here for.”

You tip your head back, following Newt’s eye line. “You know, my first night here, I hadn’t built a place to sleep. I just lay on the ground like this, looking up at the stars.”

Newt shifts, moving one hand to point upwards. "I recognise most of the constellations," he tells you.

"Really?"

"Yep. That's Orion, right there. And over there is Gemini. And that star is Sirius, in Canis Major."

You search your mind for a hint of a memory, trying to call up knowledge you might have had before being put here.

"It's all bullshit," says Newt.

You turn to him in surprise.

"The stars," he says, still staring upwards. "None of them should be arranged like that, the constellations wouldn't be that close, or even in the same area, if this was real."

"Oh," you say, voice soft.

Newt lets out a flat laugh. “I don’t know why they let me keep this knowledge, when they’ve taken everything else away.”

He sits up, eyes flicking down to you. “…sorry.”

You shake your head, sitting up and turning to face him. “It’s okay. I’d rather you say this stuff than keep it bottled up.”

“Right,” says Newt. “I guess we should… get back to the hut.”

Neither of you move to get up.

“Newt,” you say. You face forward, resting your arms loosely around your knees.

”Yeah?”

“Please stay with us,” you say, voice quiet. You turn to him, letting go of your legs to gently take his hands. “We need you, I- we- okay, let me just-” You take a deep breath. “Listen, we’re gonna get out of here some day. And I want to sit with you under real skies, with real stars, so you can tell me each and every constellation you see. Cause I know your nerdy ass studied all of them in another life, and I don’t know, when we run out, we can just... make up new ones? I think that’s something I want to do with you.”

“Yeah, okay- yes. Okay.” Newt’s eyes are wet, and he squeezes your hands right back.

“And talk to us,” you continue. “When you’re struggling, or hurting, or… anything. Just talk to us, Newt. Please. We need you, and we care about you, so much.”

“I’ll try, I’m trying.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you say.

“God, okay,” you start, after staying there under the stars for a while. “Look at us. Let’s get back in the hut, c’mon.”

You help him up, handing him his crutches.

“So, we’re trying,” you say, looking Newt in the eye.

“Yes, we’re trying.”

You get the smallest of smiles from him, and count it as the biggest win.

4. Gally

"First he breaks all our rules, then he tries to convince us to abandon them entirely? These rules have held us together for years, why are we questioning them now?"

You frown slightly, taking in Gally's words from your seat at the back of Council Hall.

"If Alby was here, he'd agree with me, and you know it."

You watch pain flicker across Newt's face for a second, before he speaks. "Let's take a break. I want Minho, Gally, and Y/n in here, the rest of you just give us ten minutes."

As the others clear out, you join the three in the centre of the room.

"Newt, this really isn't complicated. That shank broke our rules, and he needs to be punished," says Gally.

Newt sighs, and you notice how tired he looks. He needs Alby. "You're not wrong, Gally, but..."

"Y/n, what are you thinking?" asks Minho, jerking his chin at you as Newt trails off.

You raise your eyebrows. "You know I have no say in this, Min. I'm not a Keeper, or any kind of leader. I'm pretty much just here to watch the meetings."

"Seriously, Y/n?"

"Fine," says Newt. "Then suppose we're asking you as friends asking a friend, not as a council leaders or Keepers."

"I don't-"

"Just speak, Y/n," says Gally exasperatedly.

"I- alright, the idea that Newt's having right now, mine's the same."

"Well, we'd love to hear it from your mouth," says Minho drily.

"Yeah Y/n, what am I thinking?" Newt crosses his arms, lifting a brow.

You sigh. "Punish Thomas for breaking the rules, but make him a Runner."

"You can't be serious," says Gally immediately.

Newt shrugs. "They're right, that's what I was thinking."

"I'm down to train him," says Minho. "I think he'd make a good Runner."

"Good. Call the Council back in then, we'll make the announcement."

"You're making a mistake," says Gally angrily. "Tell the others without me." He storms out as the rest of the Keepers file in.

"Gally-"

"Nah, Fry."

"I got him," you say, nodding at Frypan.

"You're alright," you whisper as you brush past a stressed-looking Thomas. You squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, and he gives you a small smile of gratitude.

You shut the door behind you, chasing Gally down as he storms into his hut.

"Gally wait-"

"I don't want to hear it, Y/n."

He slams his door shut, closing you out. You sigh, and let yourself in.

"Get out of my hut, Y/n."

"Stop, Gally," you say sharply. "Just listen."

Miraculously, he stays quiet, leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms.

"I... I know you're scared, Gally."

"What-"

"Oh my god, just hear me out," you huff, rolling your eyes. "Okay, so yes, we just got attacked by Grievers, right here in the Glade. And yeah, it's probably linked to Thomas. And- yes, making him a Runner and letting him pretty much just fuck around and find out could put us in danger. ...But he's also the closest we've ever been to understanding the Maze and this whole place. I think he's the key to getting us out of here."

You sit down on Gally's bed, gesturing for him to sit down beside you. He lets out a huff, but reluctantly takes a seat.

You look him in the eye. "Gally I've been here for three years, and it's great. We've built a structure, a life, a goddamn society. But I really, really want to see the outside world."

Gally scrubs a hand over his face, dropping his gaze. "Yeah, I know, Y/n. I'm just- I'm trying to keep everyone safe. Newt and Minho are blinded by this hope, they're believing too much in one guy who's been here for literal days."

"I know, I know. But we need to take that risk, if we want to get out of here, alright?"

Gally sighs, then nods. "Yeah, fine."

"I'm gonna help Thomas, and Newt and Minho in whatever plans they make."

You hold out your fist. "Promise me you'll follow the plans we make, and stick with us. Don't... you know, make your own group and stay here and get killed, or whatever you were planning to do."

Gally rolls his eyes at you, and reluctantly brings his fist up to knock against yours, following through with the handshake the two of you used to do after building something, back when you used to help out with the other jobs. "Yeah, yeah, we get it Y/n. You've been here the whole time, you know us sooo well, you can read our minds."

You grin widely. "Damn right I can."

5. Thomas (everyone loves Y/n)

"Do you think this'll work?" asks Thomas, chewing on his lip worriedly.

"Of course it will," you say. "Have a little faith in your plan, Thomas. You don't need approval from me."

Thomas huffs out a laugh. "Thanks. It's nice to hear you're confident, though."

You raise your eyebrows, smiling a little confusedly. "I mean, I'm glad my support motivates you."

Thomas squints his eyes at you. "Y/n, you know you're like... super respected, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, everyone looks up to you. You don't notice the way people turn to you in tense situations and stuff? You're kinda like an understated leader, I guess."

"Ah, right." You smile at him. "It's cause I was the first person here, which I do get credit for, I don't know why. Totally underserved, Alby's the one who built this place."

"Bullshit." You turn in surprise as Minho walks in, Newt following behind him.

"What?"

"Undeserved credit, my ass," says Minho, crossing his arms. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be a Runner."

"Yeah," says Newt, coming over to your side. He props an elbow on your shoulder, grinning at the frown you send him. "And you know what," he says quietly. "If it wasn't for you, I might not even be here."

You smack his arm. "Don't even say-"

"Gally, tell Y/n we love them," interrupts Minho.

"Huh?" Gally lifts a brow, before nodding. "Yeah, everyone loves you, man. Don't take it personally. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't even be on board with this plan right now."

"Ugh-" you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Thomas leans in. "Told you so."

"God, let's just do the plan. Let's go, everybody out," you say hurriedly, shoving Newt out, ignoring Minho's snickers.

You stand between Minho and Gally as Thomas and Newt explain the plan to the Gladers, feeling yourself surrounded by friends; family.

Time to get out of here.

The end chapter is cheesy but I love it thank you for reading <3333

#the maze runner #platonic gladers x reader #alby x reader #minho x reader #newt x reader #gally x reader #thomas x reader #my writing

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ozarkthedog · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

summary: you and joel sneak away for a quick fuck during a family outing.

warnings: no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader. literally, it's all porn. sex in the woods. dirty talk. sorry again tommy. no beta.

word count: 660

authors note: just a little thot i had after seeing this pic :)

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

“Gotta make this quick, Sweetheart.” Joel looks cautiously around the tree he’s got you shoved up against. He sees Sarah and her two friends screeching and splashing each other in the water while Tommy sleeps with his hat over his face on the back of the boat.

He slides a hand between your legs and hooks your swimsuit bottoms to the side. “Gonna wanna keep that pretty mouth shut.” A wad of warm spit lands on your crack and drips down to where Joel is teasingly prodding your puffy center.

His bulbous, weeping head catches your slick opening before pushing ever so slowly into your heat. Your jaw drops open with a pained gasp. Sex with Joel always felt like the first time even after all these years. Bending over the hard tree stump and pushing your ass in the air doesn’t help as it makes you even tighter.

“Shit-” Joel hisses like he’d been punched in the gut. “M’not gonna last long with you squeezin’ me like that. So fuckin’ tight.”

Your head hangs heavy between your shoulders as you try to relax. The bark under your fingers is rough and earthy, a needed distraction from the pain as he spreads you open with his cock.

Wandering fingers find the crux of your mound and glide over your clit. He swirls the tender nub with precision as his hips keep a steady rhythm. His cock starts to easily glide in and out of your core as he feels you succumb to the pleasure. “Come on, sweet girl. You can take mor’a me.”

A wanton moan tumbles from your lips and into the lush expanse as he bottoms out. His crown grazes your cervix making your walls convulse. “Thatta’ girl. Swallowin’ me whole.” Joel praises, splaying kisses between your sun kissed shoulder blades. “Gettin’ every inch wet. S’my fuckin’ good girl.”

Pleasure creeps up your spine. Your cunt throbs and pulses around his length. Shiny arousal drips from your pussy and stains his cock with your slick before he fucks it back into you. A thin white layer gathers around the base of his length gelling down his wiry dark brown strands as he grunts above you.

“Already makin’ a mess.” Joel chuckles against your neck. You mewl under him and arch your back desperate to meet every drive of his hips.

His pelvis roughly smacks into your fleshy ass with each thrust. Feverishly hands grasp your hips imprinting the pads of his fingers onto your skin while he snarls above you. His tongue darts across your neck and tastes your salty dew before his teeth graze and scratch the tender skin marking you like an animal.

Your cunt spasms as white light explodes behind your eyes. A heavy hand covers your mouth and nose making your eyes bug. “That’s it. Good girl.” He grunts as he continuously fucks you through your high and restricts your breath until your cunt drives him over the edge.

Your fingers dig into the bark as he removes his hand from your mouth and grasps your hips. He tugs you back onto his length, wildly pumping and thrusting his cock deeper than before as he growls into your shoulder. His hips go still as he fills you to the brim with his gluey spend, painting your velvet walls white as you milk every last drop from his balls.

“Hey, where were you guys?” Tommy asks, sitting up and adjusting his baseball cap. He tosses Joel a beer as the two of you climb back on the boat.

“Uhh, you know,” Joel looks at you behind his shades with a sly grin. “Sight seein’.” He says while cracking open the beer.

You try to hide your snicker by adjusting the straps of your suit and looking off in the other direction but Tommy wasn’t fooled.

“Why am I not surprised!” The younger man hollers and shakes his head. “I gotta find a woman like that.”

💌 send me mail

#joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal

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auroravictorium · 1 year

Text

bigger than the whole sky (k.b.)

every single thing to come has turned into ashes.

Summary: pekka rollins' plan is revealed when reader is kidnapped on a job and taken to an unknown location; inej and jesper have to break the news.

Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship) Word Count: ~2.4k Warnings: violence [reader is knocked out and kidnapped], use of weapons [jesper's gun, inej's knives], poor proofreading oops Genre: angst

Author's Note: hello hello!! here is the next part of midnights - to my new readers (and there's a lot of you, hi!!!), i highly recommend at least reading from midnight rain onward to understand the backstory behind what happens in this chapter! happy reading loves <3 next part coming sooooooooon (w lots of kaz anger/violence/being dirtyhands)

You scaled the side of the bank, hissing through your teeth as the wind whistled past you and threatened to disrupt your balance. The tips of your fingers were rubbed raw and bloody from scrabbling for handholds, and your toes ached in your boots. Still, you scrambled to get to the dark window on the third floor of the building; when your fingers made contact with the windowsill, you sighed in relief.

Inej was watching the perimeter from the rooftop, as she could move the fastest to alert you or Jesper to trouble. Meanwhile, Jesper was on the first floor babbling with a Stadwatch officer to delay his patrol throughout the bank.

You slowly eased the window upward, hoping to prevent it from screeching and attracting attention. To your relief, the window moved seamlessly, allowing you to slip inside and pull it shut behind you. You took a moment to adjust to being on solid ground again and let your heart stop pounding in your ears; crouching, you pressed your palm to the plush carpeted floor and let a breath slowly pass your lips. You hated heights, but you fought hard to be on this job. Still, you couldn't help but think, I'm making Jesper scale a building next time. It was far past his turn to have to cheat gravity.

Once the wind was no longer rushing in your ears and your pulse had calmed, you straightened up and moved to the oak cabinet in the corner. You needed three files on wealthy merchants with connections to Pekka Rollins. With no indication of what Rollins was planning to do next, Kaz had tentatively focused on crippling Dime Lion businesses by cutting off the supply of the goods needed to keep them successfully operating.

It was risky for you to get the files on people connected to Pekka Rollins, but you were tired of being on the bench; you could only do so many pickpocketing jobs or shifts in the Crow Club before you started getting frustrated and feeling like you weren't contributing to the Dregs. Though Kaz understood, it had taken a minor before he relented on the condition that you were in and out as soon as possible. No detours, no meandering along the East Stave. And if a Dime Lion showed their face, you had to drop the files and run.

You knew you had until about sunrise before Kaz thought you'd been captured and burned the city down. You'd be surprised if he wasn't already searching for the matches.

You dug through the messy files in the cabinet before finding the first of the three names. One down. You slipped the papers from the file and rolled them up to stuff in the inside pocket of your coat. They were bulky and dug into your ribs, but you needed your hands to climb down.

The hairs on your neck prickled, lifting despite the warmth in the room, and your fingers slowed their sifting. You turned your head, your gaze scanning the dark room for a figure, movement, or any sign of what had made you uneasy.

Everything was quiet and still; the only light came from a street lamp outside. It occasionally flickered from the breeze, casting dancing shadows across the pale office walls. That did nothing to ease your sudden nerves, and you only started to work through the files faster. I need to get out of here.

Something hissed near the door, like one of Wylan's bombs being lit. Except Wylan wasn't here, and only a fool would bring a bomb into one of the wealthiest banks in Ketterdam.

You spun toward the sound, losing interest in the files and drawing your pistol. It wasn't the most subtle or quiet weapon, but it felt secure in your hand. You felt slightly safer with a gun outstretched; all you had to do was pull the trigger.

There was nothing by or on the door except for the waltzing shadows of a candlestick and a pen sticking out of a jar of ink. Your eyes narrowed, and you took a careful step forward. The floorboard creaked beneath your boot, and you halted, peering through the darkness.

White smoke seeped under the door and curled upward. It swirled in a draft that shouldn't be in the room, twisting and writhing toward you. An abnormally sweet scent hit your nose, and your head started to spin. The room wobbled and twirled, or maybe that was you when you stumbled back against the desk in your haste to get to the window.

Someone knew you were here.

"Jesper! Inej!" you shouted, feeling the desk's surface beneath your palms as you scrambled over it. The jar of ink shattered against the floor, dark liquid soaking into the plush carpet. If your shout didn't get their attention, maybe the clattering of your attempted escape would.

Your knee slammed against the desk chair as your coordination failed. Your movement turned sluggish, and your muscles ached as you tried to push them to move faster. Somehow, you felt your way to the window but couldn't force your arms to open it. They hung limply at your sides, unresponsive to your pleading to move.

"Jes! Inej!" you tried again, but your voice was too quiet. It wouldn't carry up or down; maybe you hadn't even spoken louder than a whisper. "Help."

Your vision blurred, and the world flipped on its axis.

The ink-stained carpet caught you as your knees gave out. Your pistol slipped from your hands, your traitorous fingers loosening their grip. It thumped uselessly beside you. You tried to reach for it, but you couldn't move, couldn't do anything as three muscled figures creaked open the door and stepped inside.

Their faces were covered by masks, painted like grotesque creatures that sent fear crawling down your spine. These were not Dime Lions. They had too much pride to cover their faces when attacking.

Mercenaries.

"Grab her," one said, the man with the brightest, most absurd mask. His voice was abnormally warbled and deep. You blinked hazily at him, and your lips wouldn't cooperate with your mind as you tried to tell them not to touch you. Your arms remained bound at your sides, though you longed to swing them up at their throats. But they wouldn't listen, and one threw you over his shoulder.

Kaz, you thought, as if he could hear you despite the stillness of your lips. Your eyes drooped despite your battle against the violent unconsciousness trying to take you. Kaz.

The last thing you felt was the world swinging beneath you as the men carried you off through a servants' passage, down a narrow stairwell, and into a howling, blurred night.

Inej peered down from the bank's roof, watching for a sign of any Stadwatch or alarm amongst passersby. The Financial District was completely and utterly still, illuminated by moonlight and half-dead lampposts.

A door slammed on the furthest side of the bank, and Inej heard boots hitting the cobbled ground. She turned, rushing to the rooftop's edge and expecting to see Jesper with a Stadwatch officer or three behind him. Instead, she saw three men sprinting down the alleyway, a limp form swinging over one's shoulder. They sprinted down the street toward a carriage waiting at the corner beneath an extinguished lamppost.

Horror washed over her, and she swung over the roof's edge, starting to climb down. Her usual composure disappeared, replaced by the scrambling and fumbling of panic, sending mortar and splinters falling to the alleyway below in her haste to follow her friend.

"Y/N!" someone shouted, sprinting out of the building through the front doors. It was Jesper, but there was no Stadwatch. He'd left him behind to take his patrol when he saw the men escaping with his best friend.

Jesper nearly careened into a lamppost as he skidded to a stop and drew his pistols, aiming at the man lagging behind the other two. But the man took a spot behind the man carrying Y/N, seemingly aware of Jesper's plan, and Jes knew he couldn't take a lethal shot without risking hitting Y/N.

He fired at the man's leg, piercing his thigh and sending him crumpling to the ground. But the man leading the escape lagged behind and pulled the injured one to his feet, hauling him along. They'd planned this. They knew everything, including how each would respond.

Inej appeared beside Jesper, panting from her frantic descent from the roof, but she didn't wait to catch her breath; she ran after the mercenaries, her boots pounding against the sidewalk and her daggers appearing in her hands. She launched one through the air as the men jumped into the waiting carriage. It clattered against the carriage door, and she gritted her teeth in fury.

"Damn it!" Jesper bellowed, catching up to Inej and repeatedly firing at the carriage as it started to pull away. Bullets pierced the back and hit the wheels, but nothing could be done; the carriage pulled away, taking the mercenaries and Y/N with it. "Sons of-"

Inej pressed a hand to Jesper's forearm. "We need to get back to the Slat and talk to Kaz," she said firmly. "Now."

"But they have Y/N! Shouldn't we follow them?" Jesper waved his hand wildly in the direction the carriage had gone.

"With what carriage, Jesper? What horse? We certainly can't follow them on foot." Inej turned and pulled Jesper along with her. Her steps were quick, and she led him out of the financial district and across the bridge into the Barrel as fast as she could. "Kaz will make a plan."

"By the time we get to the Slat, they could be long gone. Who knows where they're taking her?" Jesper protested, but he hurried alongside Inej. Soon, his long strides overtook hers, and Inej had to rush to keep up with him. "Kaz's plan will be razing the damn city, which won't help unless she's still in the city."

"Stop talking, Jesper," Inej hissed as they entered the crowded boulevard along the East Stave. She nimbly worked her way through the crowd and burst into a sprint the second the Slat came into view.

The two of them darted up the steps into the building, and Jesper only cursed a few Saints as one of the rotted wooden steps collapsed on itself on their way to the attic. He shook off the splinters and followed Inej straight into Kaz's office, where he was sitting at his desk and looking over financial documents.

He looked up as they burst through the door, chests heaving and eyes alight with panic. "What?" He looked between the two of them. Two.

Kaz lowered the parchment he was looking over, and a nagging, painful feeling settled on the nape of his neck. His pulse started to hammer in his ears, but he continued, hoping he was wrong as he took in the panicked expressions on Inej and Jesper's faces. "Where's Y/N?"

"Dime Lions," Jesper breathed. "Grabbed her while she was searching for the files." He ran a hand over his mouth, feeling like he might vomit as a sinking feeling settled on his stomach. This was what Kaz had feared. Kaz had trusted him to help keep Y/N safe, and Jesper knew he had failed him. Jesper placed his hands on his hips and started to pace, unable to stay still. "Took off to the south in a carriage."

He plopped in the seat across from Kaz and hid his face in his hands.

"Mercenaries," Inej corrected and glanced at Jesper, a knowing look in her eyes. She felt the same, having been on the rooftop and looking over the city while Y/N climbed up the building and looked through the office. "They wore decorated masks. Dime Lions don't do that."

Kaz went terrifyingly still. When Inej looked at him, her fingers curling around one of the blades at her side for comfort, she could have mistaken him as one of the statue performers along the East Stave during the summertime. It was as if marble crept over his skin and locked him in place.

He didn't so much as breathe.

Jesper peeked over his fingertips at Kaz, holding his breath as he waited for hell to break loose. "Boss?" he said nervously. He waved a hand in front of Kaz's face.

Kaz finally spoke, his voice so dangerously quiet that Inej knew the city could quite possibly be on fire come morning. Dawn would arrive to find the city already awash in red and orange, buildings licked by flames, and the sky darkened by smoke.

"Go downstairs," was all Kaz said, and he didn't have to repeat himself. Jesper stood and went for the door, taking his hat in his hands and twirling it around his fingers.

Jes didn't think Kaz would appreciate an apology, nor did he think he could formulate one as a lump formed in his throat. He kept his gaze on the ground as he slipped out of Kaz's office, and he didn't even curse as another rotten stair gave out on his way down.

Inej dared to linger, looking over Kaz's face as it flickered between a facade of calm and a look of pure murder. His expression didn't scare her, but she knew Y/N's kidnappers and the Dime Lions should be. If Pekka Rollins wasn't the key to discovering where Y/N would be taken, Inej knew Kaz would finally kill him. That much was clear.

"Should I gather the others?" Inej said quietly. She moved toward the door, ready to go the second she received an answer. Y/N did not have time for Inej to process the guilt resting heavily on her lungs. The mercenaries would not wait to do something to her if they hadn't already. She needed to move now and find out where her friend had been taken.

Kaz's chin dipped almost imperceptibly in a nod, and Inej spun on her heel and left. She gently shut the door behind her.

Despite her forced calm, she couldn't help but flinch as the door rattled in its frame behind her, and a loud thump echoed down the hall. She picked up her pace to catch up with Jesper, hurrying downstairs after him to summon the Crows.

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @marlene-the-witch, @thestudiouswanderer

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bit-odd-innit · 1 year

Text

[A lil thing based on my list of bands Steve and Eddie would both like, specifically ELO]

Robin must recognize the near-imperceptible click his jaw makes when he yawns, the one that allegedly "drives her insane,” because when she picks the phone up the phone she barks, “WHEN are you coming home?”

Eddie chuckles. “Hello to you, my closest compatriot! You flatter me! I had no idea my absence would be so acutely felt.”

“I welcomed your absence!”

“Ouch.”

“Fool that I am, I believed your absence would grant me respite! Four blissful days without your utterly barf-inducing honeymoon phase, blech. ”

“It saddens me that you have allowed so much hate into your heart.

“Instead I’m subjected to—“

Eddie can HEAR her exaggerated pout through the phone.

“Where’s Eddie? What do you think Eddie’s doing right now? If I go outside and look up at the moon do you think Eddie is looking at the same moon? Put a bullet in my head.”

In the background he hears a faint “is that him?” And his heart flips over and bares it’s belly.

There’s a scuffle on the other end of the line, smacks of flesh on flesh interspersed with hushes of, “Fuck you.” “Fuck YOU.” Then there’s a thump, a squawk of defiance, and a breathy, flirtatious, “Hey,” and Eddie has to lean his full weight onto the shoulder as his knees give out. “Hey.” The bank of payphones in Jeff’s dorm’s lobby don’t offer a lot of privacy so he pivots to press his face into the cool, white-painted cinderblock. “Whatcha doin’?” “There’s been a development.” A shuffle, a hiss of a needle hitting a record, a giggle. “My raise came through,” Steve says, “And I made a purchase.”

“Oh?” Eddie asks as the distant rumble of music mounts. “I got the cordless. And now I can do this.” There’s a slight feedback screech and then, “🎵 In myyyyy blue world...🎵” and Eddie’s glad Steve can’t see him claw his hair across his face. “🎵 I turn to stone when you are gone I turn to stone I turn to stone, when you comin' home I can't go on...🎵 ” Steve’s voice is shaky and teasing and warm as he sings along. Eddie swoons against the cement wall, thinks, oh, okay, you’re It for me. “Not hearing a lot of feedback...?” “Baby.” And he punches the word with as much feeling as he can, pummels it with the word he wants to say but can’t, the word that’s sat dense and heavy in his chest since the moment he opened his eyes in a hospital room, felt his hand squeezed in reassurance. “Baby,” he says, again. “Mm,” Steve says, and it sounds like come home. “I’m on the first bus out.” “Okay,” he hears the same time Robin says, “Fucking WHIPPED.” “I’m going to kick Robin’s ass.” “No you’re not NO HE’S NOT” “No I’m not.” He beams. “I can’t wait to see you again.” “Of course you can’t,” he says as through Eddie can’t hear him climbing through the phone to get to him. “You bought the ELO album for me?” he asks, and melts as Steve replies, “Honey I bought it for us.” Later he flops onto the air mattress in Jeff’s dorm, screams into the pillow. He looks up at Jeff, smiling like he still hasn’t adjusted to moving his mouth without braces. Wide, loose lipped, gummy. “You love him, don’t you?” He grumbles. He does.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #still figuring out how to write robin i'm TRYING also jeff&eddie bff agenda

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whxtedreams · 2 months

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Prologue

Lovesick in Jackson

Summary: You wake up from a nightmare on the way to your new life in Jackson

Word Count: 2k

tags: nightmares, fear, lost in mines, panic, injury, animal attack, dreaming, darkness, creatures in water (ew)

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

The murky water sloshes at your feet, a thick layer of dirt and grime sticking to your legs. You feel like you're submerged in a dark and treacherous labyrinth, lost among the twisting tunnels of the mines. The darkness surrounds you on all sides, swallowing your body as you continue to follow the path. The air is thick and heavy, the walls closing in around you like the very earth itself is trying to reclaim your presence within its depth. You can barely see a few feet ahead, your eyes struggling to see what’s ahead.

You’re lost, alone and scared.

Your parents had often spoken to you about the dangers of the mines, that it was an unforgiving place unfit for a child to be.

And yet, here you are.

And now, as something slimy slithers and slides against your leg, an almost instinctual panic sets in as you screech at the touch.

You take a hurried step back, losing your footing and tripping over a submerged rock in the muddy water. Your legs buckle under you as you fall backwards, the water quickly filling your nostrils and smothering your senses. For a moment, you're submerged in water and you gasp, the water filling your throat with a horrible taste. You quickly push yourself up, desperately trying to maintain your composure and keep from falling back again in your panic. But the panic is starting to set in, the darkness surrounding you making it hard to see or think clearly.

The slimy creature disappears into the darkness as it sends ripples through the water, its touch sending shivers up your spine. The thought of something lurking in the darkness fills your mind with a fearful sense of dread.

You scramble to your feet, your clothes wet and dripping with the muddy water now as it clings to your skin. You try to remain calm, but the sensation of the slimy thing still lingers in the back of your mind, filling you with a terrible fear. Your breath quickens as you try to keep calm, but the darkness of the mines is beginning to weigh on your thoughts. You feel the walls closing in around you, the thick murkiness of the murky water seeming to grow thicker and more dense with each passing step. Your body tenses as you inch ever so slowly deeper in.

You want your mom, want her to pick you up and tell you everything will be okay. But she’s not here and you’re alone.

The faint and feeble light from the lantern above flickers, its light growing dimmer as a hissing sound fills the air around you. A moment later, the flame is fully extinguished, and you find yourself enveloped in complete darkness. You're left blinded.

You call out for your mom, your small voice trembling and not strong enough to reach the ears of another human that might be in the mines.

You reach out with your hands, feeling the walls of the mine on either side of you as you try to move forward. But as you do, you feel the rough and jagged edges of the rocks scraping and tearing at your skin. You can feel small cuts and scratches forming on the surface of your palms, the pain adding to the growing sense of panic inside you. The fear inside your mind is starting to overwhelm you as you continue to move in the pitch-black surroundings.

Your hand, still guided by the wall's surface, suddenly slips off as you find yourself at the entrance of another corridor. Your foot almost trips over the sudden stop on the wall's surface, almost causing you to stumble and fall. The shift throws you off even more, the sudden transition from a confined space to a wider one filling you with a mix of fear and uncertainty. The walls around you seem to grow quieter and darker as the space slowly opens up, like it was waiting for you to enter.

So you do.

And you shouldn’t have.

You climb up into the new space, grateful to feel the solid surface of dry rocks beneath your feet. The water doesn't reach this level of the mine, and the ground feels firm and stable. But the darkness of the mine remains, its shadows still present as the narrow walls and ceiling above you seem to close in on you once again. The silence of the mine seems even thicker than before, the faint sounds of the water from the other side a sharp contrast to the dryness of this path.

You smile until the ground disappears beneath you.

You’re falling.

Your back slams on the hard surface of the ground, the sudden impact sending a wave of pain through your body. You open your mouth to scream but instead are left gasping for air, your lungs caught by the suddenness of the impact. You can feel the pain from the impact throughout the entire back of your body, the sharpness of the pain threatening to overwhelm you. You feel your breathing grow shallow and irregular, the air seeming to catch in your throat and fill your lungs with discomfort.

The roof of the cavern seems to swirl and twist, the darkness filling your mind with a strange and disorienting sense of haze. In the distance, you see bright lights from small lanterns that are attached to the walls and the ceiling, hanging almost as if to guide you along in this darkness. The strange lights burn your eyes, the lights from the lanterns glowing so brightly that they seem like lights from another world. You see the lights hanging down and feel your feet sliding back onto solid ground as you slowly stand and step towards the light.

If there are lights down here, there should be people, right?

You don’t get a chance to find out as a deep growl haunts the area to your right. You can feel the air shift, hear the ominous creature breathe the same air as you.

You don’t want to look.

You shouldn't look.

You look.

Your eyes are drawn towards a pair of dark eyes that meet your own, its gaze seeming to devour you and pierce you to your core. It seems to almost toy with you, slowly sauntering towards you with a graceful and predatory movement. The eyes are cold and unrelenting, filling you with an uneasy sensation as it draws ever closer. You feel like a helpless prey in the presence of a predator, a feeling that's only reinforced by the dark shadows of the room and the menacing glare of the eyes.

You’re frozen in place as the creature advances towards you. It sneers, spit spraying on the ground beneath it.

Is this how Little Red Riding Hood felt as she looked into the wolf’s eyes?

Fear rises and catches in your chest and you feel like you’re drowning on it. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to run. But you do none of those things. You stand there helplessly as you watch your death crawl towards you.

If you were older, maybe you would have done something to save yourself. If you were older, you would have listened to your parents about the dangers of the mines.

But you’re only six.

When it jumps towards you, only then do you scream.

"Good evening passengers, our next stop will be at nine-fifteen at Jackson Station. Please ensure that you have all your belongings with you before you exit the train." The overhead speaker squawks to life once more, the announcement shattering the quiet stillness of the cabin. You sit up in your seat, blinking and still trying to shake off the effects of a reoccurring nightmare.

A small line of drool drips down the window, clinging to the glass from where your face had been resting during the restless sleep. You quickly wipe it off with the sleeve of your jacket, embarrassed at the small spot of saliva left from your slumbering mouth. You are alone in this tiny cabin, but you still feel the embarrassment of the wet spot appearing so visible against the glass.

You sit back in your seat with a sigh, picking up the folded letter beside you. The dim orange light above you flickers, casting the compartment in a semi-darkened atmosphere as the light seems to come and go as it pleases.

You reach over to turn on the small sconce beside the door for extra light, only for nothing to happen when you flick the switch. You flick the light a few extra times as if it would magically turn on.

You groan in frustration, mumbling about the amount of money you paid for a ticket.

Leaning back into your seat, you squint your eyes and attempt to read the letter again despite the strain on your eyes. The dull light casts the letters in strange shadows, you find yourself having to squint even harder in order to be able to properly read the words.

My Dearest Granddaughter, It has been far too long since we have spoken but know that a day has not gone by that I have not thought of my darling granddaughter. I only knew you for a small percentage of your life but I cherish those years more than anything. Having you and your parents in town meant more to me than you will ever know and I regret it not lasting longer. It is with that, when I pass on from this world: the farm belongs to you. I know this must come as a shock as I barely know you now that you’re an adult but you loved the farm more than I did when you were a child and it only seems right for it to go to someone who will take care of it with the same amount of love I did. If you have grown up and the love for the farm has died along with me, I only hope you at least visit the farm before you decide what to do. If you wish to sell, you can, but something tells me you’re still the little girl who would climb the peach trees for the best fruit your little eyes could see. With the farmstead, I also leave you some of my savings to help with restoring the farm as I am unsure how long I will have been in the hospital before you get this letter after my passing. The keys have been left with the Mayor of Jackson, Maria, a close friend of mine. Once you arrive at the station, make your way over to the town hall and she will help you with anything you need. I love and miss you more than you know. Grandma Rose.

When the letter first arrived, you had been both confused and shocked. Confused that someone you barely know would give you the keys to their beloved farm and shocked that your parents forbade you to go.

You bought train tickets and quit your job the next morning.

There was something exciting about dropping everything and moving across the country to start a new life, but also something equally terrifying.

The soft glow from a town in the distance catches your eye, its presence settling into the valley. You assume it to be Jackson, the town appearing as a small collection of bright lights that seem to shimmer as the night goes on. The full moon shines brightly from above, its light reflecting on the open countryside and the waters that surround one side of the town.

It’s beautiful.

You begin to pack your carry on as the lights shine through the window, the brightness filling the otherwise dim cabin with a soft glow. You find yourself feeling a small smile on your face. You swing your bag over your shoulder, taking in this small, peaceful moment as you grab your grandmother's letter and tuck it into your jacket pocket.

As you turn and open the sliding door to your small cabin, you can’t help but think that this was the right thing to do.

You can only hope.

Click here for Chapter one

Notes

okay so the little prologue is out, i hope you like it! I have so many plans for this fic (sorry to everyone that i've been blabbering about this too) (i'm not sorry) Also im writing on a new software so if you notice any paragraph structure errors or just errors in gerneral, it's not me i swear.

tags: @jupiter-soups @anavatazes @ruthyalva96

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel fanfic #tlou #joel x reader #tlou joel #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel x fem!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal

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azsazz · 1 year

Text

Lips of an Angel (Part 3)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the song ‘Lips of an Angel’ by Hinder. Azriel left you for Elain. After finding out that he has a child he didn’t know about, he’s furious.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,121

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Notes: Literally so short but hopefully it’s worth it. 💙

_________________________________________

Rhysand feels Azriel before he even arrives.

There’s a dark static in the air, charged like lightning ready to strike. The shadows of the room grow darker around him; seeping through the cracks of every floorboard, crawling down the corners of the walls, painting them in long, black strokes. Tendrils of anger soaked night billow in from the slats of the framed windows like thick fumes, as if Azriel is trying to smoke him out.

If Rhysand could understand their inky whispers, he thinks they would be screeching.

He feels his own powers reacting, zipping through his blood in excitement, eager at the chance to play. It’s his inner beast, calling and clawing its way up his throat in response to the dark power of his brother, trying to intimidate him.

His shadowsinger is looking for a fight.

Tendrils of black climb up the sides of his oak desk like an amoeba seeking a host, pincers ready to grab on and not let go. He has to plant his palms flat over his work to keep them from getting swept away in the tornado of rage.

Rhysand’s eyes glow violet as the faelight is swallowed by the onyx shadows. His heart beats unevenly in his chest as he waits, spine stiff and body frozen in his chair, the creature within him threatening to burst forth from his chest as he waits for Azriel.

The shadowsinger winnows into the room, splintering through his shadows with ease. They’re wailing like lost souls, coiling around Rhysand’s limbs to trap the High Lord in his spot should he try and pounce. He’s breathing harshly, well past the point of seeing red. His siphons are glowing the brightest he’s ever seen, thrumming with a newfound power he’d been hiding within himself for far too long.

Seven blazing blue beams are consumed by the wall of black he’s met with when he appears in Rhysand’s office. They’re vibrating with so much power Azriel’s half convinced that they’ll shatter like his aching heart.

Betrayal hangs heavy in the air and its putrid scent chokes Rhysand as it mixes with Azriel’s smoldering fury. Fingers sharpen into dark claws, scraping against the desk, tearing through the thin documents with ease and digging into the thick wood. It’s as much restraint he has, for if Azriel does not remove his shadows, he will take matters into his own hands.

Azriel’s furious as he realizes, the apples of his cheeks red with rage. He’s panting like a feral hound but acts as their master as he calls his shadows to him. They melt against Rhysands wrists, pinpricks of acid against his tan skin as the obey.

A shadow snakes its way back towards Azriel, weaving its way around shaking hands curled into tight fists. It rests at his shoulder like a crow, its caw of war is something even Rhysand can make out clearly.

Violet eyes meet blazing gold, a war between two brothers.

Rhysand had to give it to his spymaster. He could see how the male was spiraling, even without having to look into his mind. He had nearly felt the realm shift on its axis when his nightmarish powers released, sleeping throughout the city like icy death.

“What’s on your mind, Azriel?” Rhysand questions. His tone is the same coolness he uses when talking to Beron or Tamlin. It’s never been directed at Azriel before and it only makes him angrier, wings tightening and shadows hissing threats in his ears.

“Don’t play coy, Rhysand,” his shadowsinger spits. His fingers twitch, begging to uncurl and reach for the familiar cool hilts of his swords. He hates it. Hates that Rhysand is taking the easy way out and putting on his front as High Lord, making it known that he is the true ruler, instead of acting that as an understanding brother.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.” The enervated lilt to his voice sharpens as he catches Azriel’s slight movements, his instinct to carve answers from the flesh of his brother. But Rhysand is no fool and he will not be treated as such.

He’s toying with him, of this Azriel knows. Waiting to see how he reacts. If he was a better male he would sit down in the plush chair across from his brother and talk about it. But he’s not. He’s steaming mad and Rhysand knows this. The beast lurking beneath his skin transforms the emotions to feral rage. Azriel blinks the red from his vision. Once. Twice.

Rhysand understands exactly why he’s here because the darkness has reported no other bodies within the River House with them. He’s sent his mate and his son away, sensing his burning wrath through whatever mental bonds he shared with them.

Protecting his mate and his kin.

Something Azriel has never gotten the chance to do, because he hadn’t even been aware he had a child of his own.

His stomach twists and the flare of outrage nearly shoves him over the edge. Acid rips through his organs and up his throat and Azriel takes a shuddering breath as he pulls on the reins with all his might. The darkness inside of him feels like that of a crow, picking at the cracks in his armor like a sledgehammer with its beak, slowly chipping away at his hold.

He growls at the feeling in his chest, a hot knife to his heart as he thinks about what Rhys has kept from him, from what he’s done to you, to his son.

“I have a son.” The admission alone both soothes and angers him. A storm of warmth and bitter darkness battle for power.

Rhysand only hums, and the darkness wins out.

Azriel bares his teeth, speaking before his brother deigns to respond with an indifferent goad that will only make him more furious. “Why didn’t I know, but you do?”

Watching the stars wink out of the violet skies that are Rhysand eyes should scare his beast away, but it only reacts to it, the gold of his eyes swirling with black shadows.

“You never realized or asked about what we were doing when you weren’t around because you were too busy with your head shoved up Elain’s skirts. Maybe I should appoint a new spymaster,” Rhysand rasps lowly, and they both flinch. A brutal admission that sends shame zinging up his spine. His knees nearly give out with it and he growls like a rabid animal in response, Rhysand’s power and his shadows swathing the room into complete black.

They’ve fought in his darkness before, and now, as Azriel launches himself across the large desk, Rhys is ready, his own beast waiting for him with raised fists.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #azriel angst #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #au!wren #azsazz

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sweatandwoe · 9 months

Note

I (and I'm sure a lot of us) would go feral if you wrote original monster content. I'm talking climbing the walls, screeching, hissing, bite bite biting feral. I wanna smooch the cryptids. The gonsts. The lil funky guys in the gloom under the moon. Please. One day. I loaf you sweaty for that thot alone

🩷

why not, let's do a little test run

MDNI - Lich x GN!Reader. Reader getting overstimulated, Skull Fucking (not in it's original context), Necrophilia maybe? Idk he's a lich and consenting, Oral Reader receiving, Fingering Reader recieving, Boning (this is linked to the fingering). Dacryphilia mention at the end.

"You can do it, my dear. What's one more little death?"

One more might actually lead to your actual death. But your lover was always so very thorough in his work, and you were never one to complain about helping him research. Well, not usually.

But now there are tears in your eyes, and you're starting to ache. It was bordering on painful now. "I don't know if I can."

The man, if he could still be considered that, peers up at you. Eyes a cold flame, ice blue lights dancing in wide, black sockets. His head is solid bone, a skull staring up at you. Long fingers, notched and thin, pause inside of you.

"Oh?" The skull leans forward, jaw moving. The little muscle left along the bone helped to stretch it out and let a shadowy tendril slip out; the ghost of a tongue. It hovers there, curling and flicking like smoke though it was far weightier than that. You knew from experience, and you can hear a chuckle when your legs tremble. "Would you like to make good on that assessment?"

Fuck. The tendril moves up, flicking along your sex while his fingers continue moving, searching and pressing inside you. He's determined and you can only grasp one hand onto his shoulder, gripping his robe, while the other roams over chilled bone. His true name spills from your lips, forbidden and complex but your tears are starting to slide down, warm and fat along your cheeks.

He doesn't let up. The ghost of the tongue does not mean he can't speak, even if it's busy. The lich's eyes light up with each word and let each of the following sentences hang in the air before sinking into your skin. "Such a good assistant for me. Helping me explore all kinds of death. How many ways we can achieve this one, the little death before it breaks you?" There's a pause, before he crooks his fingers, pressing them against that one spot to make you keen out. He chuckles, warm and full of delight while his gaze rakes over your body. With a single movement, he's pressing forward his skull right against you, letting the cold bone hit your inner thighs. "I think after this one it will be five? Is that correct, dearest one?"

You're panting. Nails dig into bone while your teeth dig into your lower lip. "That's c-correct, Gar-"

"I think that will be enough for today then. Just one more, my dear." He doesn't wait. The tendril is no longer flicking against your sex, but rather engulfing it. Sucking and licking, it feels wet and warm, a wonderful contrast to the coldness of his natural form. His magic was always so warm.

Tears continue to leak, you're so tired, but you can give him one more. One more and you will be done. He will treat you so well if you give him one more. You force yourself to relax, to let his ministrations guide you through, but you're cumming with a sob and grind of your hips against his head.

He's nothing but praise, sliding his fingers out once your orgasm ends. "So wonderful to see. Such a good test subject." The tendrils from his mouth descend back in, but not before letting it roll over your thighs like a final caress or a soft kiss. He stays between your legs, gently rubbing over them with too-thin and rough fingers. Bones pet your flesh, and you don't mind it.

Finally, he lifts himself up, to stand and get you a glass of water that he had kept nearby. He dips the cup himself, and you know there is no option here but to drink. Heavy mouthfuls are quick to come as you realize your thirst. When he pulls away, turning to set it down, your fingers run along his robes. "Thank you."

The lich chuckles, thin arms wrapping around your body, until he can settle behind you. Having you lay over him, the robe helping to smooth out all the hard lines of his body. "I should be thanking you, my dear. I've learned so much." He shifts beneath you slightly. "Was it too much?"

You consider the fact that you just had the equivalent of a talking skeleton eat you out and finger you open until you wept. Surprisingly, no. "It wasn't that bad. Just got too..."

"Overstimulated?" You nod and he hums. "Perhaps next time, we can have some longer breaks in between. That may help with preventing some tears."

You gaze at him, meeting the blue flames of his eyes head-on. "But you like the tears."

His hand dips, feeling along your waist and then your stomach. He can't grin anymore, but you could sense it in the next few words. "Perhaps I should keep going then?" Boney fingers dip lower, following the line of your hip, hovering over your sex once again. "If you have no objections, of course, my dear."

You pause, thinking. "One minute break? And then you can get another one."

His teeth press on the crown of your head, the whisper of a kiss he couldn't give. "Of course, my dear."

You smile, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. "Thanks, Garbear."

Gary sighs, no air pressing through the slightly parted teeth. "You're going down to thirty seconds now, brat."

"You shouldn't have let a human pick your casual name."

"Twenty."

You had an odd feeling it would be a long, but enjoyable night.

Thank you to @golden-rats for the name of the Lich

#monster boyfriend #monster x reader #monster romance #I might make this a whole thing #I love Gary the Lich and his human partner #lich #monster lover #mdni

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pianocat939 · 1 year

Text

(Feral Jiang Shi Donnie because yes)

Tw: breaking in, Donnie briefly attempts to bite MC, he's a little feral-

In the middle of the night, someone rips the screen door connected to the yard, a few snarls and hisses escaping the being's mouth as it enters. It lifts its head briefly to smell food, its fingers twitching with anticipation and desire. His eyes glow a dim purple, a vengeful glint in his pupils as he explores the house on all fours like an animal.

"Sniff sniff...smell meat...smell...me?" He sits on the wooden floor briefly, raising an eyebrow while thinking: confused by his own thoughts. After a few seconds, he shakes his head, standing up on his legs this time, "No...smell human. Human smell...like grass." He scratches the hat on his head a bit before running up the stairs on all fours, like how a child would climb them up faster.

When he arrives upstairs, his pace drastically slows, and he starts to creep around, inspecting the corners and rooms. His eyes then narrow when he sees a figure laying on a giant cushion of some sort. He clicks quietly a few times before lunging onto the bed, his jaw unhinged: wide open. "Demon! Eradicate!" But he's surprised when a hand holds his throat, keeping him back.

"What the fuck! What are you! Bitch I am not dealing with this today!" For a moment he continues his growls and attempts to bite their face, but suddenly stills. His pupils dilate, to the point one would think something is wrong with him. He then starts to churr, his jaw closing and only his elongated fangs poking out from his mouth.

"Love! Hold...me!" He chirps, and before they could do push him away he uses his entire body weight to lay on them, preventing them from moving. He nuzzles his snout against their cheek, "I would...destroy...anything for you!" But then, their phone lights up, showing a notification that just came through.

Before they could look over and see what it is, it was instantly thrown against the wall. "Evil! Must...protect!" He bounds off the bed and starts to bat at the phone while screeching and clicking furiously. He seems pissed at the phone.

"Yeah ok- how about we not-" He whips his head back and glares at them as if daring them to move, "Ok- never mind then..."

They awkwardly sit in bed, watching the strange creature that broke into their house snarl and hiss at their phone. Even amused if it weren't for the fact it's their cell phone.

"What kind of feral animal are you-"

(We heart feral, dum dum Jiang Shi Donnie)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #blurbs #donnie x reader #rise donnie #jiang shi donnie

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kirislovelygf · 10 months

Text

when i’m with you (neytiri x omaticaya fem! reader)

contents: making out (nothing nsfw), date nights, flying on ikran, you and nsytiri are already dating, cuddling, corny stuff, wlw loveee <33

wrd count: 1.3k

｡･:*:˚✰

neytiri would do anything to spend time with her girlfriend.

hunting, sewing, swimming, flying, picking flowers, watching the ikran fly around, exploring the forest, anything as long as she has her girl by her side.

but their most favorite activity to do together was flying their ikran through the night.

this was their fifth night in a row they were doing this.

y/n was sneaking out of her hammock at midnight when more than half of the clan was asleep.

she climbed down the branches of hometree until she reached the ground, her clothes and jewelry clanking quietly against each other.

she hissed when she hit the ground and they made noise before running away to find her girl.

she finally found neytiri standing against the trunk of a nearby tree.

y/n tip-toed quietly behind neytiri before trying to scare her. she grabs her shoulders and whisper-shouts “boo.”

neytiri laughs and turns to face her. “how old do you think i am?”

y/n laughs quietly as she tucks her hands behind her back.

“i missed you.”

“i missed you more.” neytiri cups her face in one hand before kissing her after a long day of not being able to because of tsakarem duties.

“come on. let’s go before my mother finds us.” neytiri takes her hand and the two start to run through the forest.

they ran and then walk up to the hallelujah mountains where their ikran slept.

coincidentally, the ikran the two girls bonded with were mates with each other, and they’d often be found snuggling together in the trees.

which they found them like again just now.

“care to race?” neytiri asked her girlfriend as they approached the sleeping ikran.

“hm. sure. and what do i get from you if i win.” y/n asked innocently. she hopped up on a branch before climbing up a tree to get easier access to her ikran.

“uhm, a kiss?” she suggests as she looks up at y/n.

“no i meant like a bracelet.. or a necklace, or maybe a cute top.” y/n said jokingly as their ikran started to stir awake.

y/n climbs back down to face neytiri.

“fine. i’ll make you a new top.” neytiri smiled at her as she goes to hold y/n’s hands

“and what about me?” she asks.

“aw, that’s okay. you’re not winning anyway.” y/n teased. she placed a kiss on neytiri’s cheek before skipping over to her ikran.

the girls settled on their animals before diving off the mountains, screaming in excitement as they plummeted.

their ikran pull up as soon as they reached the surface of the water below.

y/n yelped as her ikran tilted sideways, her enormous wing slicing through the water like a knife.

her ikran then went up again and her and neytiri swirled around each other into the sky.

they then flip over onto their backs before diving down again.

in the moment where they were floating with their backs to each other, they tilted their heads to look at one another before laughing lightly and screaming again.

y/n’s ikran flew above the surface of the water, gaining more and more speed.

“hey!” neytiri called out and said something else after but y/n was too busy trying to win the race.

the flew all the way back up to the mountains, weaving in between the floating rocks.

“first one to the cave wins!” y/n shouted, which was followed by her ikrans screech.

neytiri smirked before her ikran seze picked up the pace to catch up with y/n.

when they made it out of the mountains, they began racing through the clouds in the sky toward their cave where they loved to spend time together

it was like a cave that opened up to an oasis of a waterfall and a sky light that let moonlight put in and making the water reflect on the cave walls

y/n was so ahead of neytiri that she knew she was already the winner.

she arrived to the cove on the grassy floor and smiled to herself. “yes!”

“wow, you almost beat me.” neytiri’s voice said.

y/n’s smile dropped as she frantically looked around. she found neytiri sitting against seze, all relaxed like she had been there for hours.

“how did you get here before me?” y/n unbounded with her ikran and walked toward her as neytiri stood up.

“i know a shortcut.” she shrugged.

“what? that’s not fair. i won, you-“ neytiri’s interiors by kissing her so softly and fondly that y/n forgot what she was even complaining about.

neytiri’s hands fell from y/n’s face before landing on her shoulders.

“you were saying something?” neytiri asked.

“uhm i can’t remember. kiss me again, my memory might come back.” y/n smiled smugly.

neytiri rolled her eyes while laughing before kissing the girl once more.

they ended up sitting near the water, holding hands and watching ripples form in their reflection.

as neytiri played with fish in the water, y/n looked at her, admiring her.

she pulled her legs up so she could rest her head on her knees. neytiri catches her staring and immediately gets nervous.

“what?” she laughed.

“nothing.” y/n looks back down at the water, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

“y/n.” she spoke softly. y/n glanced up at her girlfriend.

“tell me what you’re thinking.” she asks.

y/n just shrugs, taking her sweet time to take in neytiri’s beauty.

“i wonder how eywa could have blessed someone like me with someone as beautiful as you.”

“are you dying? did you do something? why are you saying this?” neytiri raises the back of her hand up to y/n’s forehead, trying to see if she’s sick.

“no! no, neytiri.” y/n laughed as she tried to take her hand away.

she holds her hand and looks up at her again.

“i’m serious. i love you.” she muttered sweetly. neytiri takes her hands away and cups y/n’s face, holding it with care.

“i love you more.” she lets her forehead fall against hers and they stay like that for a moment before y/n throws her arms around neytiri’s neck.

she pulls her closer and presses her lips against her, dragging her down to the floor so they’re lying down.

neytiri laughs as she struggles to stay sitting up and y/n giggled, her lips never leaving neytiri’s.

they shared one, two, ten more kisses before realizing they needed to get home before mo’at would go hunting for them.

they flew back to the mountains to let their ikran rest before walking the rest of the way back to hometree.

most of the villagers were fast asleep in their hammocks and neytiri and y/n had to sneak and be quiet to get to theirs.

“okay, goodnight.” y/n said as they reached the branch that led to neytiri’s hammock.

“wait, stay here.” she said in a hushed tone. y/n looks at her like she’s crazy.

“your mother will skin me alive if she catches me in your hammock, no!” y/n argued in a whisker.

“she will not find you, i promise.” neytiri giggled, trying to keep her on the branch.

“please?” she begged. “i just want to sleep next to you. that’s all.”

y/n smiled at the thought of sleeping next to her, hugging and kissing and falling asleep together.

“alright.” she muttered. neytiri squeals as quietly as possible before dragging her girlfriend to her hammock.

they almost fell to the forest floor with how much they were moving around just to get in it.

they finally get comfortable and wrap their arms around each other, y/n letting her head rest under neytiri’s chin. neytiri closed the top cover before resuming her position.

they dozed off together, gently rubbing each other's arms and legs in an endearing manner.

once the girls were fast asleep and their arms had slowly and slightly untangled themselves, their tails found their way to each other and they intertwined.

y/n could risk her life everyday from now on if it meant she could lay like this with her for the rest of their lives.

｡･:*:˚✰

#neytiri #neytiri x fem!reader #neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite #neytiri x y/n #neytiri avatar #neytiri x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #wlw reads #wlw writing #wlw blog #kissing #fluff #wlw fluff

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siren-serenity · 7 months

Text

sleeping beauty 💜🖤

beware the sleeping beauty

characters: vil schoenheit, rook hunt, gn!reader warnings: slight swearing, descriptions of corpses (light) a/n: - thank you @jade-s-nymph for allowing me to join your halloween collab! can't wait to see everyone else's work! - feedback is appreciated! - honorable tags -> @azulashengrottospiano, @officialdaydreamer00, @hisui-dreamer, @ceruleancattail, @identity-theft-101, @siphoklansan, @merotwst, @the-dumber-scaramouche

The walls were dangerous, but not unclimbable. They scraped your knees and rubbed angrily against your skin, but you persevered onwards. Crimson beads of blood could be seen on the dull grey rocks if one cared to look carefully. There was a light in your eyes that couldn't, no, wouldn't be extinguished no matter what the elders of your village said.

"J-Just, just a bit more!" You grunted as your blister-covered hands finally grabbed onto a flat surface and you pulled yourself up with all the remaining stress you had in yourself. "This is for Rook..."

You could imagine Rook's deep, rich laughter and feel his curious gaze on you. You could practically hear him say, "Mon ami, just a bit more! There's so much beauty in climbing a cliff instead of just flying up here, isn't there?"

"Fuck that, Rook," You muttered and heaved yourself up. Lying on your back, you let out exhausted exhales and shakily pumped your fist in the air. "Made it at last!"

The sky seemed closer than ever. If you reached up, you could practically touch the wispy clouds. But the strange, slightly acidic air and the eerie silence of the wilderness reminded you of your duty and you crawled onto your feet.

"Holy shit...."

The castle, named 'Pomefiore', was covered in thorns and thick veins. The stonework was crumbling and cracking and the rusted chains on the drawbridge creaked as you walked across it. You vividly remembered climbing up here with Rook years ago; the moat was a crystal blue color that made the blond ramble and gasp with awe. Now, you crouched, and instead of sapphire blue, gooey thick green slurp stared back at you. A bubble formed and hissed as it popped; you flinched back.

"What happened to you?" You murmured, pressing a hand to the large double doors. They screeched as you pushed, grunting as you did so. It was dark inside. You twirled your purple-gemmed pen in a familiar motion and a small orb of light formed.

You laughed, staring at the orb. "Professor would be proud that I managed to do so...can't wait to show Rook!"

Rook Hunt...cold water drowned you, reminding you of what you were here for again. You sobered up. Pointing your pen forward, you slowly crept forward, attentive to each and every whisper of wind in the nooks and crannys of the castle.

A week ago, Rook had arrived at your house with a skip in his step and adrenaline glinting in his emerald eyes. He had come to you with a proposition - to join him on a journey to the haunted Pomefiore to appreciate its beauty. You had denied it (you never regretted a decision more in your life) because you were helping your friend, Epel, with the apple harvesting. The light in his eyes diminished, but he had respected your decision. Last time you saw him, he was walking away wearing his signature velvety purple cloak and his bow and arrows hoisted on his back. His blond hair shined in the sun as he took one last look back and waved to you.

That was a week ago.

He hasn't returned since.

SCREECH

"Who's there?!" You pointed your pen in the direction of the noise. Your eyes widened at what you found. A loud shout tore from your throat as you stumbled backward. "What the fuck?"

A dead body, preserved perfectly as if it was just slumbering, greeted you. The only way you knew it was a corpse was because of the lack of breathing and the unnatural paleness of their skin.

He had red hair that reminded you vividly of the apples on Epel's farm, but richer in hue. His hands were folded over his chest peacefully as if he was just sleeping. The corpse wore a white coat dress with a variety of interesting card-like patterns and yellow rims. There were many roses adorning his clothing that curled into itself as if they were dying alongside their owner.

Nothing but morbid curiosity brought you closer to the corpse. Floating the orb over him, your eyes scanned his body for any signs of struggle...only to find none.

"Strange."

You leaned in closer. "He looks as if he's sleeping...no bruises."

You bowed your head to the corpse, praying for the youthful-looking boy before dashing the hell out of there. But now that your paranoia caused the light to shine brighter, you saw more and more of the corpses lingering in the hallways. Some were lying against the wall while others were in the middle of the walkway. They all looked so different; you saw one with bright blue hair, another had wolfish ears, and two had identical turquoise blue hair with a streak of black.

"Oh Sevens, Rook! Where are you?" You practically sprinted to the largest double doors you've ever seen. Something was inscribed on them with gold; you didn't care to look and only grunted while pushing with all your might. In hindsight...you should have never ignored the warnings and the gruesome series of pictures. Most importantly, you should have noticed the golden apple with a dagger stabbed in the core. The apple...that had skull eyes staring blankly at the viewer.

"Nothing to lose, nothing to fear. "

You spun around in the empty throne room, shrieking 'Who's there?!' without a reply. Your chest heaved up and down as you shuddered in pure terror and fear. You couldn't even see Rook's body anywhere and a lone tear fell from your eyes. How could you face his parents? His siblings? They were all waiting for you to come back like a hero and with Rook in tow. How could you dare face them?

"The shining crown is meant for me."

Your back hit against something firm and human. With fear flooding your veins, you slowly turned around and let out the most heartwrenching scream.

"Rook!" You shook his shoulders. They were cold. Too cold. Your shaking hands cradled his chin and his head lolled to the side. His emerald eyes were half-lidded and the color seemed murky. Something whispered in your mind, slowly building in tempo and crescendo. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

"ROOK!"

You let out another cry and it echoed in Pomefiore's lonely walls. Suddenly, you didn't care about how cold his body was or how unnatural it felt. All you wanted to do was just have one last hug from your platonic soulmate, even though he had left you alone in this mortal realm. You needed him because he was your sun and you were the moon drawn to his charisma and power. You and Rook were inseparable from youth to now and you didn't want to change it anytime soon.

"Fairest One Of All."

You froze in Rook's cold embrace. Ice gripped your heart in terror and you could only let out shaky breaths that rattled your lungs.

Heels echoed on the marble floors of the throne room. You couldn't look; something had forced you to stay still. You didn't know if you were fortunate or unfortunate, fortunate to know that you wouldn't have to face the enemy and instead the last thing you saw was Rook's reassuring figure or unfortunate to have so much suspense grip your throat.

Poisonous, acidic air flooded the throne room and you hacked out coughs. Blood splattered Rook's purple robes and you only widened your eyes in horror. Your grip around the pen tightened but no spell or curse came to your rattled mind. Just pure terror.

"Fall asleep for all eternity. Wither away with your friends. Accompany me in my loneliness until my end."

Your eyes drooped by an unnatural force. You could feel your limbs slacking and the muscles relaxing to a frightening degree. Your head lolled forward, thumping against Rook's cold chest and your body flop sideways.

The last thing you saw before eternal slumber took you in their grasp was the most beautiful man with blond-fading-to-lavender locks.

Vil Schoenheit

Sleeping Beauty

____________________________________________________________

It has been many years since she had last felt somebody roam her hallways. Only a week ago, there was a young soul, burning with passion and youth, roaming her walls. Rook Hunt was the soul's name and he burned brighter like any fire she had ever seen. It was his fatal flaw and his greatest strength that brought him to his knees in the throne room - his wanting to explore and treasure every bit of beauty the world had to offer.

He had whispered something in French as his shaky hands touched the golden carvings on the walls and marveled over the paintings of old. She watched as he delicately cradled the artifacts and gracefully placed them back to where they belonged.

She watched as Sleeping Beauty got to him. Time and time again, these explorers could do nothing but succumb to Sleeping Beauty's magnificient power. Once upon a time, she would have clapped her hands with glee and tried to recruit him to her ranks. 'We would be unstoppable together' she would have said, eyes gleaming with promises. Now, she just mourns the loss of another soul, another death indirectly caused by her haunting beauty.

She rests, soul aging and tired. She couldn't do anything but let Sleeping Beauty roam her halls like a ghost, she was powerless to his magic as well.

Pomefiore weeps.

Somebody creeps across the drawbridge.

A new soul had arrived.

And Sleeping Beauty awakens once more.

#spooky chattering 2023 #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #pomefiore

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breannasfluff · 5 months

Text

The next morning, it takes twice as long for Wild to pry himself out of the pile of birds. Even if there’s a rock digging into his knee, the instinct to burrow down and stay nearly outweighs it.

Let’s go, feathers up! Time’s call has the flock launching into the air and Wild is happy to fall in behind Legend. They won’t be flying for long before they have to land and walk to avoid battling the winds.

The sun is warm, offsetting the sharpening chill in the air. Four once again joins them at a lower altitude, despite having to flap more to stay aloft. Hyrule grumbles and shifts a little further away, but the rest of the morning passes with ease.

“Why do we have to walk over the mountains?” Sky holds his wings a little higher to avoid snagging feathers on the rocks. “It doesn’t feel windy.”

“True, but the locals said gusts can come up unexpectedly. It’s not safe for us to fly here. The raptors might be suited for it but…” he trails off with a glance at the passerines.

Wild sniffs and flaps a wing for balance as he climbs. Sure, some of them aren’t made for handling high winds, but they probably won’t be bashed into the rocks! Flying would be a lot faster.

“Time,” Wind wails, likely having the same idea. “My feet hurt! I keep having to pick my wings up!”

“My primaries are going to be ratty,” Warriors chips in, although he seems more resigned than upset.

The kite heaves a sigh, his own wings hunching closer to his ears. “It’s not ideal, I know. But we’ve walked before when we weren’t sure of the area or someone was injured. We can do it again.

“That’s not when we were walking uphill!”

“Farore’s glowing asshole, I thought you were heroes!”

“Legend! Language! Don’t teach Wind new swears!”

The vet hisses and clicks his teeth, following it up with a rude gesture Wind copies and aims at Sky. The frigatebird slaps his hand down and shoots Legend a dirty look.

Giving up on the group, Time turns to keep trudging up the winding hill.

It’s late afternoon and the rocky cliffs of the mountain pass rise sharply above them. The winds pick up the higher they go—one moment calm and the next catching feathers and trying to push them into walls.

Hyrule and Wild give up and huddle close to one edge of the path. Legend and the others determinedly battle the wind. Then it’s gone again.

“I guess I can see why no one flies in these conditions.” Twilight steadies Four, who’s off balance from the last gust. “A bird could get pretty hurt in conditions like this.”

Wild continues to scan the higher rocks, looking for…something. What, exactly, he’s not sure, but instinct urges him to keep his head on a swivel. It’s another five minutes along the path that he sees it.

A cave, higher up and set into the rocky cliff. Far enough from the ground not to worry about predators or monsters. High. Secluded. Possibly empty.

With a chirp of delight, the magpie launches into the air. As soon as he starts to rise the winds of the pass grab at his feathers, but he pushes through. A moment of awkward hovering shows the cave is empty and he dives in.

Flock, come, cuddle-nest!

Time’s screech is ignored as Hyrule, Legend, and finally Four flap their way up and into the cave. Well, Four is shoved in by a gust—he’s lucky not to catch and tear a feather.

Read the rest here!

#lu wing bois #lu wing au #lu triple threat #lu four #lu wild #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu time #linked universe #linkeduniverse #breannasfluff #my writing

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m0chisenpai · 11 months

Note

Hey I really enjoyed the Kiri x twin sister reader, and I was wondering if I could request one where she takes you to get an Ikran and like Kiri you just walk up and befriend it. And then you and her fly for the rest of the afternoon before going to the place where you can feel Eywa the strongest and you both lay there together talking before you head back home and you and her sleep on the same bed and cuddle.

Pre-Avatar Way of the Water

Sully!Family x reader

Sister!Kiri x sister!reader

You were of age in Jake’s eyes to go through the passage of ikran maktoyu. It’s what Grace would have wanted, and dang it if you didn't work your butt of to prove yourself you know now you are worthy.

Every scrape, bruise, scar, cut. In your eyes you were a warrior.

And as you climb with your family behind you up the hallelujah mountains. A part of you hurts. You linger for a moment, ignoring your brothers who have made it a competition between the two to see who could make it to the top the first, and take in the beauty.

Mom should be here to watch you, to hear your stories, for you to show her your ikran. She should be climbing beside you now watching this sight, rambling about her samples and needing pictures for her "research" when deep down you know she's just a softy from the collection of pictures she hid away for you in your camper. But with your sister by your side, she soothes the dull ache as you squeeze through the tight crevices of the floating rocks,.

The mist from the falling waters cools your cheek and your breaths echo off the walls as you shuffle along the thin edge till you hear their loud cries and screeches. Then the light is blinding your eyes.

Ikrans fly past you with mighty wings that knock you back into the floating rocks. Some hiss at you and you jump back into Kiri who presses her hands onto your shoulders.

“Breathe, remember” she whispers as she steadies you, “you’ll know it here, if it is your ikran” her hand slides to press into your heaving chest. Your hands pull and wring at the dainty rope you brought.

“And if you're not ready baby, we can do this another time” Jake now steps forward meeting you at eye level. But from the narrowness of your eyes and the way your ears flick back, he knows you are more than ready. So he nods at you and steps back with the family.

You remember how Neytiri knelt before you that morning, held your jaw and reminded you of the bravery you and your mother harbored. In her eyes, you were more than ready.

And so you turn and take the first step forward. The ikrans watch you, some hissing and flying back when you jump at them. You hiss back as well, flashing your own fangs as you bare them. But none dare to challenge you.

This goes on for some time till you see it, see her. She steps forward amongst the others. She’s painted in splashes of gold and orange. Her eyes size you up. And while you hiss at her and crouch low. She does not.

She stops till she is right at you. And your sister watches in awe as you drop the rope and stretch your hand. She presses it into your hand, her eyes and your own close. You pull your kuru over your shoulder making the bond and your eyes widen as you feel her and she feels you. You feel her heart beating against the chest. How strong her wings are.

“Damn, she did better than you huh” Lo’ak chortle as he elbows his brother who hisses at his little brother.

“Y/N” Kiri shouts yelping along with your family in celebration as you mount your ikran with ease. You dive off of the cliff soaring among the sky and a shout spills from your lips as you fly high and dive low.

You hear a yelp next to you and Kiri has joined you now. And the two of you fly together. It feels like hours, like you have seen every inch of the beauty of the forest from a new point of view.

At some point the boys join the two of you, and your ace. Netayem wins but you come in second which is better than losing to Lo’ak who swear the two of you have cheated. The sun has begun to set at some point and Netayem calls for your attention.

“Don’t be late tonight you two!”

“Yeah you know how mom gets when the two of you come back late!” Lo’ak chides and the two of you roll your eyes but agree to come back somewhat on time tonight. Once they are gone you and Kiri land among the forest. It’s second nature and your feet immediately know where the two of you are going.

Your place, your spot, Your second home.

Here you fall to the ground in a fit of giggles. And the grass around you puffs as if the mother is basking in your joy as well.

“Look at my sister! The mighty ikran tamer” she growls playfully dancing her hands across your ribs sending you into a fit of giggles. Kiri negins to run her hands through the free parts of your hair.

"Hardly, had she jumped at me I'm sure we wouldn't be here right you" you huff.

"At least you get bragging rights, it took Lo'ak forever because he's as stubborn headed as his own." You two giggle at the memory of your brother tossing and turning with his own ikran even after boding with it

A calm silence surrounds you both as Kiri continues to comb through your hair. It's enough to make your lids feel so heavy that they slowly fall shut. But just as your breathing slows down Kiri shakes you gently.

“We gotta go home, come on up at em’”

“Nooooo” you whine as you pull you up, but you let her pull you back to your ikrans and the flight home is quicker than having to run by foot. With sleepy hands you pick at the food Neytiri has made.

“Ahh look at the mighty warrior Y/N”! And you roll your eyes at your brothers as you continue to eat.

“Mhm! Watch out pops, I'm coming for the title of Toruk Makto”

“If she becomes Makto, we’re all doomed” and you flick a piece of food at your brother who sends one back before Neytiri is pinching both your ears.

Dinner is filled with more laughs and playful banter before everyone goes off to sleep. And as you all pile up, Kiri pulls you close, your eyes droop as her hands massage your scalp.

You wonder if this peace will last forever, you hope it does.

#avatar x reader #kiri sully imagine #platonic!kiri x reader #sully family #avatar way of water

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rosysunsetz · 8 months

Text

angst 9. Johnny Slaughter x Reader

somebody requested this sorry for being late😭😭

TW: you die lol

"You are so naive."

You had thought you were smart. You always got decent grades and good jobs, but there were moments when your brains couldn't help you. Being tied up in the basement of a cannibalistic family of killers was one of those times where outsmarting them, wasn't enough. You pulled at the ropes around your wrists as you hung from the ceiling. Nothing happened, besides your wrists burning as the rope tugged at the skin. You pulled harder, trying to wiggle out of the ropes.

As your hope began to diminish, you felt the rope snap. The material was hanging on by a tiny bit after your excessive amounts of pulling, and with one last pull, you were out. Your body fell on the cold floor with a thud and you groaned, rolling over onto your hands and knees. You got up slowly, your back aching from the impact. Your hand went to your lower back as you got up. You felt like an old lady as you did this, but falling onto concrete was not fun.

You looked around the room you were in as you stood up and you immediately recoiled. Blood stained the floors and there were... oh my god. There were literal organs on the floor. You jumped to your feet, your back suddenly being the least of your worries. If these people had literal organs on the floor, who knows what they'll do if they caught you? Or your friends. You have to find them. You opened the wooden door and walked past a locked blue door. You had to remember it was there.

You suddenly heard a bang upstairs and you jumped, speeding up your pace in the tunnels. You looked around at each corner, scared to turn and run into one of them. You walked forward and made it to an opening in the tunnels that led to a room. Another one of those blue doors was there and you looked around. You found some sort of antiseptic and pocketed it. You looked around the room one last time and took a piece of bone.

"Ugh.... is this ... human? Oh my god. These people are crazy." You whispered under your breath as you pulled at the bone to pull it out of the pile.

You walked through practically the whole basement and ended up back at the dreaded blue door. This one was in a red-lit room, though.

The door made a loud screech as it was opened from the other side and you ran to a corner because you weren't the one to open it. You peeked around the wall right by the door and saw the back of one of the killers. He had a black sleeveless shirt on and his arms were huge. You gaped for a moment before realizing that he wasn't some guy to thirst over when he was crazy and ate people, in a bad way. You shook your head of the thoughts and went to peek around the wall again. He was gone.

Oh fuck.

Suddenly, he appeared right next to you and you screamed in fright. You quickly got up and crawled through a space in the wall, getting a slash on your arm in the process. You made it to another blue door and cursed when you saw it was locked. The guy was trailing you, you could feel it. Just as you thought that, the door on the other side of the room opened and he came walking in, his knife in hand. He had a smirk on his face and you looked to your left where another tunnel was. You ran into the tunnel, turned the corner, and climbed over a box with a space above it. He couldn't make it over and you sighed in relief as you stared at him over the box. He seemed unnaturally calm as if this was normal for him. It probably was normal for him, he's a psycho.

He tilted his knife, staring at the blood on it, before looking back up at you. You took a subconscious step back and gave him no other glance as you ran down the tunnel hallway. You went over another one of those boxes and rolled as you landed, groaning silently in pain. You got to your feet and made it back to the blue door you saw when you got the antiseptic. You used the antiseptic on your arm cut and hissed in pain as it burned.

You looked behind you as you worked on unlocking the door with a lockpick you found and the lock fell off with a clang. You sighed in relief and opened the door, hoping to just get out of here already.

Suddenly, you were turned around and before you could even react, a knife was in your gut. It was the guy from earlier. The one you had sadly thirsted over. You gasped in pain as he dug the knife deeper into your stomach and twisted. Your body would've collapsed then if his hand hadn't been at the back of your head. Your stomach hurt the worst it had ever. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears as you looked at him.

"You are so naive. Didn't even look behind you that whole time." He muttered, pulling out his knife from your gut. You gasped in pain and he turned you around again, slashing your exposed back quickly. You screamed in pain and your knees felt weak. As you struggled to even stand, you felt the skin at your throat break. You choked and put a hand to your throat, blood suddenly rising in your throat. You couldn't breathe and choked on your blood, trying to stop the bleeding with your hand, but you were unsuccessful. You collapsed to the ground after pain-filled moments and your eyes looked up at the ceiling as your vision darkened.

You could hear the guy tut and he muttered something else, but your ears made it sound like it was water. And then, you shut your eyes for the last time, accepting it.

"Such a shame. You were a pretty one," Johnny muttered as he wiped his knife clean of your blood. He shook his head and walked out of the small room, nonchalantly.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter fanfic #johnny tcm #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm game #johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader

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licensedqueerio · 2 years

Note

could i request more gareth x reader?? love your writing xx

I have no idea what happened with this…I had no plot when I began and kinda just went with whatever came to mind. At no point did I know what was going to come next

(Also I wanted Gareth to have a boyfriend so…male reader. Hope that's okay)

Oh, also, Henderson reader bc I wanted to hop on that bandwagon :) and ik what the Henderson household looks like but, plot convenience

---

Word count: 2.8k

Pairing: Gareth x Male!Henderson!Reader

Warnings: swearing, some angst at the end

Request Here

---

Winter in Hawkins was always beautiful. The snow was light and fluffy on the ground, the lakes froze over and a pretty picture of the town was painted. You could almost forget about the 'towns curse'.

What you loved most about winter in Hawkins, was cozying up underneath your thick, warm blankets with the window open to keep it cold enough to actually need the blankets.

It was weird, you knew this, but it was just so comforting to be in a cocoon of blankets to stay warm.

You didn't really think it was a problem to have your window open all hours of the day, considering your bedroom was on the second floor so you didn't have to worry about anyone peeking in.

You were wrong.

So very wrong.

You nearly fell out of bed when the solid, cold ball of snow exploded into mush when it smacked into your face. You flailed in surprise, rocketing upwards as you tried to get the cold snow off of you.

You hissed and swore when it travelled down your shirt and furiously tossed your blankets off. You got out of bed, arms crossed now that you were exposed to the cold as you poked your head out the window.

You weren't sure what you were expecting to see. Maybe a couple of kids horsing around and throwing snowballs at each other. Maybe one just got away from them.

You did not expect to see one Gareth Emerson a few feet away from your house, perfectly in line with your open window. He was holding his stomach, bent over, laughter echoing.

"Gareth Benjamin Emerson!" You shouted.

You watched as Gareth snapped up to a standing position, staring up at you with wide eyes. His laughter had subsided, replaced by fear.

Understandable considering no one used his middle name. Not unless it was serious, which this was. He'd just hit you with a snowball in the face for no reason.

"Sorry!" He shouted, "I didn't think your window was open!"

"Bullshit!" You called, scowling down at him. "You've climbed through my open window you shit!"

Gareth laughed loudly at that and he bent down, scooping up snow with his bare hands. You could see him patting it into a ball before he wound his arm back.

"Don't you dare!" You snapped, stepping back and edging towards the wall to hide behind it case he really did throw it.

You watched him throw it, your body mostly behind the wall with just part of your face exposed so you could watch him. He aimed too low though, and half a second later you heard loud screeching.

Your eyes went wide, as did Gareth's as he stared at the window below yours. He began to cackle like a mad man when he realized who he hit.

You watched as Dustin poked his head out of his window and laughed when you saw the snow in his hair. "Get him, Dusty!" You encouraged, because he hadn't had a good couple of days and he deserved some fun. "He got us both, he can't get away with it!"

Gareth only laughed harder at that, while Dustin threw himself out of his open window, landing awkwardly in the snow. He didn't seem to feel the cold though as he sprang back up. It was then you noticed how unprepared he was for the weather.

"Wait—I was kidding!" You hollered in panic. The last thing you needed was a sick Dustin because he went out in the snow without shoes or adequate clothing. "Dustin you don't have shoes on!"

"I don't care!" Dustin shouted as he hurriedly scooped some snow up and flung it at Gareth, who was holding his hands out in an attempt at peace.

"Wait wait wait wait!" Gareth shouted, leaping to the side to avoid the snow, slipping and sliding. "Wait!"

Dustin paused with his arm back, snow in his palm. "What!?" He demanded. "You hit me and Y/N through the window! You deserve this!"

"Yeah. I did. But your brother will kill me if I retaliate!" Gareth also shouted, edging away from Dustin ever so slowly. "Come on, Henderson, it's not fair!"

Dustin looked up at you for help and you subtly nodded, smirk beginning to curl your lips up.

Dustin's eyes sparkled with glee as he faced Gareth again and let his snowball fly. He cackled when it hit him square in the face. "That's for my brother!"

You too, were laughing at the well deserved retribution, leaning out the window more as you watched him sputter and wipe the snow from his face. He was flushed pink from the cold and you grinned. No matter how much of a little shit he was, he was still cute.

"Dustin Henderson!" He growled, leveling a glare with your younger brother. "I'm gonna bury you!" He shouted before lunging towards him.

Dustin, predictably, screamed and tried to run, but because of his lack of shoes and the heat from his body melting the snow under his feet—he slipped. He fell on his face hard and you tried not to laugh too loud so he didn't hear it.

"Wait wait wait!" Dustin pleaded as he flipped to his back, scrambling backwards from Gareth, who was stalking closer. "WAIT!" He screeched.

"I asked you to wait and what did I get?" Gareth demanded as he scooped more snow up.

"Y/N told me to!" Dustin betrayed you like the little asshole he was.

Your jaw dropped at his audacity. He was supposed to be on your side! He was your brother goddammit! "Traitor!" You hollered.

"I'm sorry, he's gonna attack me!" Dustin shouted. But contrary to his words, Gareth had stopped walking towards him and slowly—dramatically—turned around to stare up at you.

You felt an impending sense of doom as you stared at him. Before you could even open your mouth to tell him not to do it, the snow ball was flying through your open window, missing you by a hair.

"We're breaking up!"

"Bullshit," Gareth mocked, helping Dustin up and officially recruiting him to his team.

Soon enough you had the two of them throwing snowballs. They didn't have perfect aim, so most of the snow slammed against the side of the house, but you still scrambled to shut your window because sometimes they hit the bullseye.

You must have been an awful person in your past life for the universe to choose now to punish you with a window that wouldn't close. You swore as you were pelted with snow and abandoned the window, diving to the side to hide behind the wall.

"Fine! You guys win, fucking hell!" You shouted. "Now stop throwing snowballs in my room or I swear to god!"

The snowballs ceased for a brief moment and all was quiet. You held your breath; you knew from experience that silence was never ever a good thing.

"...I want hot chocolate," Dustin stated his demands. "And not the cheap shit either! I was the good hot chocolate that you made when I was sick last time!"

"And I want a kiss. Several actually," Gareth tacked on.

"No kisses! Absolutely not! I will put snow in your bed, Y/N!" Dustin vehemently protested.

You rolled your eyes at the both of them and tentatively poked your head around the corner, grimacing at the now wet carpet squishing under your feet. "For the record, I hate the both of you," you stated. "And I should lock the both of you out in the snow. But I'll be nice because Dustin doesn't have shoes on," you allowed.

"Is that a no on the hot chocolate?" Dustin dejectedly asked, staring at his toes in the snow.

You sighed overdramatically, "no, it's not a no. Get your ass inside before mom comes home," you ordered. "Go change. Gareth, you too."

"Yes, sir," Gareth muttered under his breath.

You scowled and decided to ignore it as you turned your back on the window, pulling your wet shit off.

You heard a loud, obnoxious whistle and smirked. Then you heard Dustin swearing viciously, followed by Gareth's hurried apologies.

You shook your head at the two of them. They got on perfectly, most of the time. But Dustin still didn't like that his 'cool friend Gareth' was dating his 'lame older brother'.

So obviously you messed with the both of them all the time. Like just now when you undressed in front of the window. Your body may not have been perfect but you knew Gareth liked to stare. And why shouldn't he? Personally, you thought you were a catch.

Obviously he thought the same considering your relationship status.

You jumped when your door was slammed open and you yanked a shirt over your head quickly. But it ended up just being Gareth, who was trying to pose coolly against your doorframe, but you could see him trembling from the cold. Especially his hands.

You frowned as you approached, taking his ice cold hands and holding them between your own. "God, you're freezing," you muttered in disapproval. "Fuck Dustin's gonna get sick, I already know," you said with a sigh.

"That's what he gets," Gareth grumbled, looking down at his own wet flannel and t-shirt. He kicked the door closed with a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Go change," you said instead of answering. "Your clothes are in the closet. I'll clean those with Dustin's." You gave him a quick kiss to sate his earlier demand.

"How come I always end up stripping when I'm here?" He rhetorically asked, stepping back and shedding his flannel vest and then his shirt.

You raked your eyes over his torso before taking the clothes from him. You averted your eyes when he took his pants off and caught them when he tossed them at your back.

After a minute, he said, "I'm done." Which you took to be the all clear and opened the door, heading downstairs to grab Dustin's wet clothes.

He gave them up without a fuss. "I'm freezing," he stated the obvious, wiggling his toes against the carpet. "Why'd you let me go out there?" He whined with his whole body.

"I told you not to," you argued. "Go stand in front of the heater. I swear, if your ass gets sick mom will kill me. She already thinks I got you sick the last time! And put some damn socks on!"

"Yeah, because you did," Dustin scowled, pushing past you to stand in front of the heater. "You got sick and then you contaminated me with your stupid germs!"

"No I didn't," you sighed, shaking your head as you followed him out. You detoured to the laundry room and threw the clothes in with little regard for sorting them out.

When the clothes started washing, you headed to the kitchen. You had a perfect view of Gareth and Dustin crowding in front of the heater, rubbing their hands together.

You called that karma.

You began on the hot chocolate for the two of them. You really did hope neither of them got sick. Your mom really would kill you if Dustin got sick under your watch again.

God so much shit had already happened to him under your watch. A cold was definitely the least lethal, but still. A sick Dustin was never really fun. He acted like it was the end of the world.

Sometimes you teased him that he saved the world, but a cold was what was going to kill him. That was only on good days though, when you knew it wouldn't make him frown or become distant.

Your biggest regret was always going to be not being able to protect him from all the Upside Down bullshit. You couldn't shield him from it, couldn't make it so he wasn't involved. You couldn't take his bad memories from him.

"Y/N!"

You flinched, nearly splashing the hot chocolate out of the pot. "Christ, what, Dusty?" You exclaimed, turning to look at him.

"Don't do that!" Dustin shouted with a scowl and creased brow. "Not after all the Vecna shit!"

"Sorry," you frowned, guilty at spacing like that. "I was just thinking, I'm fine. He's gone, Dust."

Dustin shrugged uncomfortably, "I know," he muttered. He glanced over his shoulder at Gareth, who was sitting on the couch before turning back to you.

You stopped dividing your attention between him and the pot and just stared at him, because he genuinely did look worried.

"I just…had a bad dream," he mumbled, squirming where he stood like he always did when he talked about this with you. "About that day. It felt so real," he frowned.

"It was just a bad dream," you reassured. "It's okay, now. He's gone for good. You seen his body. Nance got him in the head, remember? We even made double sure with the fire."

"Yeah, I know," Dustin sighed. "But it felt real," he insisted. "Our plan didn't work, and Eddie died. I was too late—I couldn't save him," he whimpered.

Your eyes went wide when you saw the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks before he wiped them quickly. You shut the stove off so you didn't burn anything and gestured for him to come closer. You enveloped him in your arms, holding him securely, as if you could shield him from all his bad dreams.

"He died and I couldn't save him, I was too late," he cried into your shoulder. "It felt so real, I couldn't wake up! And…and the night before it was you instead of Eddie and I just—I'm scared. Scared he'll come back."

You stroked his curls and sighed softly. You didn't know how to console him. How were you supposed to protect him from his own mind? "It wasn't real," you murmured. "Dustin, it wasn't real. I'm right here and I'm okay. All in one piece, okay?"

After a few moments, you felt Dustin nod.

"Why don't you call Eddie? Have you called him yet? Maybe it'll calm you down. Reassure yourself he's okay," you suggested, releasing him so you could look him in the face.

Dustin avoided eye contact and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'll call him."

You ruffled his curls with a small attempt of a smile. "Ask if he wants to come over. We have enough hot chocolate," you smiled. "But he has to promise not to throw any snowballs," you said, wagging a finger in his face with a growing smile.

That earned a laugh and he nodded before hurrying off to go do just that.

You turned back to the stove, clicking the fire back on. You watched Gareth out of the corner of your eye as he approached.

You relaxed into him when he hugged you from behind. "I hate that I can't help more," you murmured.

"You did all you could. You always do," Gareth reassured. "At least you're here for him. As long as he has you, he'll be okay."

You nodded. "Yeah. But still. His nightmares are terrible. He had to sleep in my room just a few nights ago for fucks sake," you sighed.

"He'll get better," Gareth replied. "He will. You both will. It will get better," he promised.

He knew the basic rundown of everything. He had a lot of questions after everything and you made the decision with Eddie, who was his best friend, to tell him the truth. If only the basic truth.

"I hope so," you mumbled, staring down at the melting chocolate in the pot. "Thanks for sticking around, love," you murmured, turning your head.

"I'll always stick around. Can't get rid of me, Henderson," he responded with a quick kiss. "I'll go put a movie on for him, it'll calm him down til Eddie gets here," he said and pulled away to do just that.

---

Eddie sat on the couch, sandwiched between Dustin and Steve, who he brought along with him.

You sat pressed against Gareth, who was holding your shared cup of hot chocolate to warm his hands up further.

Ghostbusters was playing on the TV, an old Dustin favorite. He seemed content with it, his own cup of hot chocolate held between his own cold fingers. At least he listened to you and put socks on.

You were glad he seemed better than earlier and let yourself find comfort in that. He was okay, at least for now.

You relaxed into Gareth and stared at the screen. For now, this moment was perfect. No one was crying, hurt, or screaming. Everyone was content with hot chocolate to warm them up and a movie to keep them entertained.

You marked this as a good day in your book.

"Hey, so what's the deal with snowballs?" Eddie asked, peeking around Steve to stare at you.

You, Gareth, and Dustin began to laugh.

#ransomswriting #reader insert #ask box #reader #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #answered asks #gareth emerson x reader #gareth the great #gareth x reader #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #male reader #henderson reader #dustin henderson #potential stranger things spoilers #Dustin's older brother

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yellingaboutmasseffect · 1 year

Text

Preview of my current WIP, “Beauty and the Furnace Beast”

“In all my years, I have never seen the sky this way,” Ayara said, looking at the odd voids in the sky.

She holds her veil in place as a strong gust of wind blew past her, disturbing the birds from the woods nearby. The flock took to the sky but in a formation resembling a circle with a line going through the center.

It was unnerving but Ayara could not help the shiver of anticipation at the unknown when the world had long felt like it had already divulged all its mysteries.

“There is no need to fear. Soon I shall return with the Cauldron of Eternity and we can vanquish whatever has upset the natural order,” Ayara’s newest spouse said, before kissing her hand.

Ayara had wedded and buried many of her spouses when they had failed to return from their quest. There were some she had even believed could be the one to finally succeed where others had failed.

Her newest husband did not inspire such confidence. He had managed through the trials and challenges she had set through brute force but that did not inspire hope he could retrieve a treasure as elusive as the Cauldron of Eternity.

Even so, there were traditions needed to be seen to.

With the customary fanfare, her husband said his goodbyes before climbing on to the back of one of her horses.

“Do not worry, my queen, I shall return shortly,” he said confidently as he urged his horse forward.

Her husband only traveled a few meters down the road when the ground shook beneath her feet.

The voids in the sky ruptured as serrated roots dug into the earth. Ayara watched the nearest void as all manner of creatures followed, climbing down the roots. A host of creatures resembling winged humans with exposed bone and muscle flew towards her keep and Ayara sneered at the gall of the interlopers.

“Prepare for an attack and assign a few of your men to get my people to the safety of my keep,” Ayara ordered and the captain of her guard nodded before carrying out her orders.

It was not the first time someone had attempted to invade Locthwain, it would not be the last.

Most of the winged creatures had flown in various directions away from her keep but her husband had ridden out towards the few that circled the area.

“Villains, come down and face me!”

“Fool,” Ayara hissed under her breath even as she ran out towards him.

This was not how this tradition was meant to go. The Cauldron was in the woods. All her previous spouses at least made it that far!

Her husband lobbed his spear at one of the flying creatures who swatted it away effortlessly. The creature looked to their other winged companions who flew away in the direction of the woods.

“Cowards!” Her husband yelled,drawing his sword. “I have married Ayara, First of Locthwain and I shall protect my kin-”

Faster than Ayara would have thought possible, the winged creature screeched as it plucked her husband from his horse that ran back towards her keep. The creature flew up with her husband into the sky as he screamed. The creature took a moment to study her husband who was now begging for his life, promising her birthright to the creature if he was let go.

The creature was as unimpressed as she was at the display. The creature dropped her husband unceremoniously before looking t down at her behind a featureless bone-white mask.

Normally she had a year and a day to prepare the customary funeral.

Ayara grabbed the sword that her deceased husband had dropped as she snarled at the creature.

“You have trespassed upon my Kingdom and interrupted our traditions!” Ayara said, seeing that archers were at the ready at the walls of her keep. “Leave or perish!”

The creature said something metallic and she held up the sword in response. Just because she didn’t enjoy sword fighting, didn’t mean she hadn’t lived long enough to have mastered it.

Unlike her deceased husband, she would not miss.

The winged creature descended towards her with its arms extended towards her. Ayara swung decisively severing one of the creatures arms as she moved back to put more space between her and her attacker.

The creature hissed something in their metallic tongue when it stopped, looking towards the woods.

With a roar, another beast bounded in from the trees, leaping effortlessly onto the winged creature and forced them to the ground. The beast was covered in glimmering black plates that glowed with molten metal where plates connected to each other. He was living metal given life and had the strength of a dragon as his talons smashed the porcelain mask from the winged creature’s face

Ayara wouldn’t lie to herself that watching the beast tear off the wings of the trespasser with his mouth made her feel something she had thought she could no longer feel.

It was brutal and efficient, the way the beast tore apart his foe, leaving nothing but useless pieces. As the beast finished, he looked to her as he dropped what remained of the creature.

The beast studied her with an intelligence that she had lived long enough to recognize despite his form. Lowering her sword, she raised her chin as she addressed him.

“I’m Ayara, First of Locthwain. The other creature interrupted the festivities of my wedding so I thank you for your assistance.”

The beast tilted his head at that, sitting back on his back legs as he thumped his draconic tail.

“Urabrask, Praetor of the Quiet Furnace. I suppose you wish to know what is happening to your world.”

“Very much so,” Ayara said, signaling her archers to stand down.

So Urabrask explained that Eldraine and other “planes” were under attack by his people, Phyrexians. While Urabrask believed that the process to become Phyrexian should be freely chosen, the other Praetors held no such beliefs and sought to force everyone into their image and force those they changed into a “Flesh Singularity

“Others like this one will come,” Urabrask said, looking towards the shreds of the Phyrexian he had torn apart. “If you allow me to compleat you, you will be yourself but more.”

Ayara did her best to keep her expression neutral despite her curiosity in the offer. After living so long, she had felt that nothing else could surprise her but Urabrask had come into her life and told her that there were other worlds and beings beyond her comprehension.

Ayara couldn’t remember the last time she had been surprised before today.

Even so, she was a queen and needed to act as such. She did not know Urabrask well enough to trust him blindly.

“Words are simple and promises can be made without sincerity. I will need to see your actions to determine if I trust such an offer but I imagine you have other places to be during this invasion.”

Urabrask tapped his claw against the ground and she realized that he was carefully picking his words. Ayara had met countless people of “nobler” lineages who were far more careless with what they said and she found herself charmed by this Urabrask.

“We don’t have to part ways. My people do not have a stronghold on this world yet and we could set up nearby. If you ally with me, it could be beneficial to both our people. As other factions spread, so will the oil. It will poison the food and water your people need to survive. My faction already has experience in keeping such resources available untainted for the fleshling resistance.”

“My, such a generous offer. What would you expect in exchange?”

“In exchange?” Urabrask said, conveying his shock despite his featureless face.

“Agreements between rulers are meant to be beneficial to both sides. What does Urabrask, Praetor of the Quiet Furnace desire?”

“I wish to compleat you,” he said, quicker than she expected. “I want to show you the beauty of creation through fire and darksteel as you are remade. I want you to consider my offer.”

Ayara’s lips parted before she smiled.

“Then you must prove yourself as any of my suitors would but I will give you a different challenge. My last husband demonstrated that my current challenges are lacking in showing the breath of one’s full character. I accept the terms of our agreement but I will only accept your offer if you are able to woo me before the roses bloom in my garden. Do that and I shall become your queen.”

“I did not mean it in that sense-”

“Does marrying me upset you?”

“No… it is just not a concept Phyrexians born of the core practice.”

“Do we need to renegotiate our terms?”

“No, we have an agreement.”

#this is only the beginning #Ayara Furnace Queen #Urabrask #Furnace Spouses #magic the gathering

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