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eywaseclipse · 1 month

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The Songs of Freedom Chapter 4: The Day You Left Me

Characters: Sarentu OC named Kirani, Nor, Teylan, Ri’nela, So’lek

Synopsis: Your training for the resistance has begun, you struggle with your past physically and emotionally, So’lek teaches you the ins and outs of becoming a true warrior, Nor confronts you and forces you to make a challenging decision

Warnings: None, just angst, swearing, general adult themes, mentions of ptsd, past abuse against Na’vi children, and a little plot twist at the end (more angst)

Word Count: 2.7k

Le'awtu: Alone, On one’s own, by oneself, lonely

Each day you train with So’lek the harder your head hits the pillow every night. Your confusion on why this man would use sky people weapons is beyond you, but you figured listening to him is best for your survival planning the resistance against the RDA.

You do your best to forget the night of the celebration, forgetting the stolen looks, awkward touches and semi confession So’lek made to you shortly after chaos ensued. You both know each of you feel the tension every time you’re in the room together. But like most things, they go unresolved.

Today, you’re in the makeshift artillery room with So’lek, Ri’nela and a begrudging Nor. Both Tani and So’lek have begun showing you basic self defense moves separately, along with how to properly arm yourself with daggers and bows. Tani spent the last few weeks teaching you the process of hand carving a knife made of black obsidian, and a bow crafted from the wood in Kinglor Forest.

She took the time to educate you on the neurotoxin that the arrows are all dipped in, to kill your enemy within seconds. Shortly after, you and the group had made your custom weapons to carry with you at all times.

You stand before So’lek as he lays out an array of guns along the table, explaining each weapon’s use and name. You can’t help but instinctively grip your knife in its sheath a little tighter watching as he holds up the hideous metal machines. Nor just rolls his eyes in disgust, clearly having no issue showing his disapproval for the sky people weapons.

“Our ancestors would be ashamed of us. We should not be here!” He hisses with gritted teeth. You see Ri’nela visibly wince at his words, knowing that the Na’vi ways do forbid the foreign metal in your culture. Your path to becoming a true Sarentu seem to be more convoluted than ever watching as a Na’vi waves the metal weapons in the air in demonstration.

So’lek puts the AR15 down gently, as he simply snorts in response. “And how do you expect to win this war against the sky people hmm? With your little bow and arrows? What about that pathetic pocket knife you seem to like? NO. This. Is how we win.”

He points to the rows of guns and stares into Nor’s eyes. You and Ri’nela stand awkwardly shuffling your feet almost paralyzed with stupidity. Both Nor and So’lek had valid points, but you wouldn’t see to it that you stick your nose in this pissing match.

“Is that what you think!? Teylan couldn’t even bring himself to be here today! He’s the smartest out of all of us!” Nor waves his arms frantically. You begin to feel your stomach churn watching So’lek observe Nor with little to no emotion. “Just listen to him Nor! Please.” Ri’nela pleads in a feeble attempt to diffuse the situation but it only upsets Nor more.

“Listen! Listen to the man who has forced us to live with the humans here? I think I will see myself out.” He turns on his heels and begins to harshly bump past you, “I think that is wise.” So’lek states simply.

Nor storms off and slams the door, causing you and Ri’nela to flinch. You awkwardly gaze to So’lek who’s eyes are already on you. “I… I should go and talk to him.” Ri’nela huffs in a defeated tone. Your stomach clenches at the guilt in her voice, making her think this was her fault. But somehow, out of all people she’s always been the one to find the way to offer solace an comfort over the years. A Tsahìk-like quality you’ve begun to notice in her more and more.

She awkwardly shuffles past you and walks out of the room to search for Nor, leaving just you and So’lek to your own devices. You cough out ungracefully and advert your eyes to the table, “I should go too.” You almost believe your half assed excuse. “No. You stay, I’ve had enough drama for one day.” He says exasperatedly.

You shrug and sigh, leaving you no choice but to maybe listen about how these stupid little machines could even remotely be of use to you in a fight. So you walk up closer to them in defeat. “Okay… and just how do you expect me to use this thing?” You point to the AR.

So’lek chuckles softly and walks up behind you, his bigger form looming over your small frame, casting a shadow onto the table. “Well if you let me show you..” He whispers in your ear. A small shiver ripples down to your spine, causing your brain to short circuit slightly. “What?” You cough out.

You back up into So’lek and turn around what kind of game is he playing? “Listening isn’t one of your strongest traits hmm? I’ll show you.” He laughs and grabs the gun propping it onto the table and connecting it to the stand. “Watch me.” He instructs carefully.

You stand next to him and observe quietly, watching as he explains how the magazine works, popping it in with a click. “You must always remember to keep the safety on while assembling the gun. This is a tool. Treat it as such.” He states confidently. You nod your head and he continues to demonstrate, by lifting the gun off the stand and walking over to an empty section of the room.

You follow, and stare as he begins to get into a shooting stance. “These guns were made for the Avatars at the RDA base. This will fit to your body as it does mine.” He explains. “This holds 30 rounds of ammunition, you still think your little bow would be useful?” He chuckles

Your ears pin to your skull at his little dig. Were you not here to learn the ways of your people? Why does he insist on using the forbidden material. “Why do you use this machine? We Na’vi condemn it..” You tread carefully.

You see his eyes open a bit, perhaps in surprise or curiosity. He lays the gun down once more and takes a moment to gather himself. “The day Toruk Makto gathered the clans together, we nearly lost. Many Na’vi died that day. Most of my clan was wiped to the brink of extinction, suffering catastrophic losses. And it wasn’t until my brief time in the amongst the Anurai clan I learned one thing; We must destroy the sky people using their own tactics. Weapons, methods. We must be the better villain.” He states with disgust.

You watch as he absentmindedly plays with the dog tags dangling on his chest piece, observing as he contemplates his next words. “I have been on a mission to destroy all sky people since that day. Taking them down one by one. Each base, each outpost. All burned to the ground.” You watch him intently as his nostrils begin to flare relaying his message. “You… killed all those men didn’t you. So you take their dog tags and wear it like some trophy?” You ask hesitantly.

He smirks, and looks to you, “You’re smart.” But you do not return the smile back. “In this quest for blood shed and revenge you have only become what you hate the most. This vengeance has consumed you So’lek..” You whisper in a horrified realization.

With the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting that kind of response from you, as he scans your expression more closely. “Ah yes. The naive little Sarentu thinks she knows what’s best hmm? Is that it? And you what do you propose I do? Shoot down the bases with poisoned arrows?” He spits back.

“Fuck you. You know that’s not what I meant. You parade your tags around HQ like some fucking self righteous vigilante? What gives you the authority to tell me what kind of weapon I can or can’t use? Huh? Who died and put you in charge?” You step as close as physically possible towards So’lek bumping noses with the older Na’vi.

He snickers and keeps his cool, “Do best to remember who saved you little Sarentu. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be a slave to the RDA.” His last sentence is all it takes to trigger a response from you. You slap the back of your hand against his jaw at the speed of light before your brain even registers your action. So’lek staggers back in shock, gripping his face looking at you.

Your chest begins to heave with sheer adrenaline, with your nostrils flared out madly. “Do not ever speak to me like that again.” You grit your teeth and stand your ground watching as he slowly rises. He manages to just nod his head, in a silent agreement, acknowledging he took it too far. “I’m sorry.” He states simply.

The room is strong with palpable tension, so thick you can taste it. So’lek clears his throat, “we are done for the day, you are dismissed.” You both avoid eye contact, swiftly turning around to leave the suffocating space slamming the door as a result.

You swiftly move and run into the corridors, looking to find Nor and Ri’nela. You approach his door and knock loudly. “Ri’nela I swear!” The door swings open to a confused Nor. “Oh. I thought you were Ri’nela.” He says irritatedly. “Sorry to disappoint you.” You step in.

“Who said I was disappointed?” You turn around as Nor sees the visibly upset expression on your face. “What’s wrong?” Your lip quivers slightly as you look on the carpet in shame. “I think you were right..” You speak softly.

“About what?” You and Nor share a glance. “About everything I guess. So’lek… he has this agenda to kill every sky person he meets. This blood thirst he has… I think you were right. Our ancestors would not approve of this.” You wave your hand in the room.

Nor sighs softly and takes a moment, “I am leaving Kirani.” Your eyes just about bulge out of your head. “I am leaving to find one of the other clans. Eetu said the Aranahe are accepting of the lone Navi who travel far. We do not belong here…” He states confidently.

“What!? No. You cannot. Nor we need to stick together. We need each other, I need you.” You squeak out. You back away from him in shock as your calves bump into the bed frame causing you to stagger onto the mattress. Your ears must be deceiving you. “No Kirani. This place, this metal box. It’s no better than TAP..” He sits down next to you as your mind reels a thousand miles per second.

You’re rendered speechless watching his mouth move with muffled words coming out. The nausea begins to creep up, feeling your head go light with dizziness. “Kirani? Hey..” He shakes you lightly, shocking you out of the trance. “Huh?” You speak dumbfounded. “I said come with me. Runaway with me..” Nor whispers.

Now you know your ears must be broken, staring at the Na’vi with complete and utter disorientation scattered on your face. “What!?” You pull away from him. “Come on Kirani, now is our chance. To find ourselves. To connect with our Na’vi side. To be truly free.” He walks after you. “How could say this?” You whisper.

Nor winces at your words, gazing intensely into your eyes. Before either one of you speak another word, he reaches forward gripping the back of your head and kisses you passionately. He stuns you speechless with the kiss, as you somehow melt into his lips whimpering in surprise.

You kiss him back with vigor, just as you hear the door swing open. “Nor have you seen?-” So’lek watches as you and Nor practically swallow each other whole with your tongues, causing you to break apart as fast as he opens the door. “So’lek!?” You yelp out. Nor keeps his hand firmly on the back of your head, almost like he intends to establish this unspoken dominance between him and So’lek. “I see that you are busy..” He awkwardly stares at the string of spit connecting you and Nor together. Scalding hot embarrassment washes over your cheeks to the tips of your ears, stunned yet again within the span of minutes.

“It is none of your concern.” Nor challenges So’lek. Oh shit. So’lek simply raises his brows in an amused look of observation, walking towards the both of you. “Hmm is that so?” He chuckles dryly. You look to Nor, then So’lek, and back to Nor. Both Na’vi have flared nostrils and ears pinned back, with their tails lashing back and forth. “Stop!” You scream out. “What is this? Stop it, the two of you.” Your attempt to diffuse the situation fails miserably as So’lek and Nor practically bump chests.

“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself. “She doesn’t need a babysitter. You can go now.” Nor hisses. So’lek laughs dryly and looks past Nor’s shoulder and into your frantic eyes. He glances back to Nor, “Why, so you can shove your tongue back down her throat?” He replies.

Nor pushes So’lek back, making him stagger, back only slightly. “Nor!” You shout in panic. “She can make her own decisions believe it or not.” Nor continues to challenge. Before you can stop the two of them Nor shoves So’lek once more and turns around to face you. “I am leaving Kirani. And when I step out that door, you can either come with me, or stay in this prison.” He huffs out.

You shake your head feeling the sheer panic rise through your veins, “Nor please don’t do this.” The fear seeps in as your eyes fill up with tears. “No.” He rushes past you and grabs the sack of his belongings woven and wrapped together, walking through the door. “Nor please!” You follow suit as he runs to the end of the corridor near the exit, whooshing the door open to the Kinglor Forest.

The rain immediately coats your skin, staring at the setting sun in the sky. “Nor please, we can figure this out. I promise to listen to you, I am begging you not to step foot in that forest.” Your voice quivers reaching out to his arm in an attempt to physically tether him. “Kirani. Please do not make this harder than it needs to be.” You cry out and cover your mouth refusing to believe this is really happening. Your heart slams into your ribcage over and over, drowning out the humming of the forest creatures.

You step forward, as Nor takes a step towards you. “Nor… I.. can’t just leave the others…” You whisper in small shaky voice. Nor’s small glimmer of hope that you stepped forward to join him, soon dies as his smile fades quickly. “Goodbye… Kirani..” He rips away from you and dashes into the forest before you can get your bearings. “No!” You shout in a raspy scream.

You fall to your knees in surrender, your slumped form pathetic in the pouring rain. Your shoulders heave up and down as the small cries escape your mouth. Your crying drowns out the sound of the airlock door opening as someone’s hands grip your arms firmly lifting you off the wet grass. “Kirani.” It’s So’lek. “Get the fuck off me!” You screech hearing the familiar voice. You begin to thrash in his arms fighting him off, as he tightens the harsh hold. “Stop.” He booms. “This is all your fault! All your fault! Your fault!” You repeat hysterically.

He manages to lift you onto your feet, as you weakly get your bearings, spinning you around and pulling you into a bone crushing embrace. That alone is enough for the floodgates to burst, as you scream into the crook of his neck. “What have you done..” You hiccup.

Taglist: @justtweetie

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paigeypaige19 · 1 year

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“She loved the sea. She liked the sharp salty smell of the air, and the vastness of the horizons bounded only by a vault of azure sky above. It made her feel small, but free as well.”― George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords

#a song of ice and fire #a storm of swords #book quotes #lit quotes #a game of thrones #fantasy books #fantasy series #life quotes #living #freedom #ocean #sailing

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dragon--sage · 5 months

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Help me to decide Help me make the most Of freedom and of pleasure Nothing ever lasts forever Everybody wants to rule the world There's a room where the lights won't find you Holding hands as the walls come tumbling down When they do I'll be right beside you Holding hands as the walls come tumbling down

✹ SHIP SONGS SERIES ✹ ASTARION X NYANA

#ship songs series 3/?#i LOVE this cover and i am obsessed with this for them it has everything #astarion's preoccupation with power #the way he has to decide what his freedom looks like and what exploring that freedom and pleasure with nyana looks like #that because of his choices (if he stays a spawn) there is very likely a shelf life on his ability to walk in the sun #and ofc the way they ultimately come to understand and admit they're ride-or-die #astarion x nyana #astarion x tav #bg3 #bg3 spoilers

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tha-wrecka-stow · 3 months

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Alicia Keys Discography

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thegayneurodivergentagenda · 1 year

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Exile (by Taylor Swift) × Bad Buddy The Series

(PAT)

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

And it took you five whole minutes

To pack us up and leave me with it

Holdin' all this love out here in the hall

I think I've seen this film before

And I didn't like the ending

I'm not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

You were my crown

Now I'm in exile, seein' you out

I think I've seen this film before

So I'm leavin' out the side door

(PRAN)

I can see you starin', honey

Like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

I think I've seen this film before

And I didn't like the ending

You're not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You were my town

Now I'm in exile, seein' you out

So step right out,

there is no amount of crying I can do for you

(PAT)

All this time

We always walked a very thin line

You didn't even hear me out (you didn't even hear me out)

All this time

I never learned to read your mind (never learned to read my mind)

I couldn't turn things around (you never turned things around)

'Cause you never gave a warning sign

(I gave so many signs)

Exile (by Taylor Swift) × Bad Buddy The Series

BadBuddy× my Playlist 3/n

#Patpran×my Playlist #so this is an angst fest huh #the title was going to be Pat and Pran being dramatic to a taylor song but didnt go with my theme #the austistic urge to have everything in a series the exact same way #i really love this song #switched up the paragraphs a little to make more sense #fuck things up #call it creative freedom #bad buddy gif #bad buddy text posts #patpran #pat x pran #pran parakul #pat napat jindapat #May i JUST #THOSE EYES #Its like the universe is about these two idiots #GUYS THE LEAVING OUT THE SIDE DOOR BUT FOR PAT BECAUSE HE KNEW PRAN HAD TO MOVE OUT ONCE AND HE CANT LET HIM DO IT AGAIN AND #HES WONDERING WHO HE'S OFFENDING NOW BY BEING FRIENDS WITH PRAN #My baby heart poor baby heart #the defending and offending double entendre with rugby is why i live in subtext #I HATE MYSELF FOR THIS #Exile as in away from pat (to let him be with ink) and exile as in boarding school.#im over explaining but pls i hold this so close to my heart.#save me. from myself.

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theinfinitedivides · 1 year

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note to self do not try and watch BTS clips from SRK films at ungodly hours of the morning, your gay ass will regret it one way or another

#film: happy new year #local gay watches Bollywood.txt #this post is brought to you by me finding bloopers from Happy New Year yesterday on YouTube and having them on loop since #i cannot breathe #i open my mouth to take in oxygen and i do nothing but wheeze myself into oblivion #99.8% of the character breaks in these clips are caused by Abhishek B the rest are just cast shenanigans and SRK existing in general #part 1 and 2 of the blooper series are cursed tho istg #you have Shah Rukh about to judo kick a mf*cker (read: the cardboard bodyguard that fell down while he was passing #in one of the takes and everyone subsequently looking at him like he's lost a few braincells).#you have Shah Rukh almost spitting out his water in the first ten seconds of part 2 bc of Abhishek.#you have a very specific point in that video where for no reason whatsoever he leans in to tell Boman Irani something and just.#f*cking licks him from chin to cheekbone. Irani glitches for at least five seconds afterwards #as one is want to do after being licked by the Shah Rukh f*cking Khan.#Don flashbacks immediately show up. one of the other cast members is trying not to be the third wheel and is failing miserably #if we're honest he's more unhinged on set than on Twitter #channeling 'freedom is a thot' energy but so are you sir!!!#look here that is not very heterosexual of you #anyway i need this or else i'll talk about how the CBFC really heard everyone screaming about the saffron bikini #and decided that there was some weight to that and asked the Pathaan team to come back with edits to the songs #then again this is the same CBFC that just rescinded a certificate they gave to a Pakistani film for release in the country #and didn't give a reason as to why

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booksteacupandreviews · 10 months

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The Letter to Lahore by Tanu Shree Singh - Indian historical fiction

The Letter to Lahore is well-written, captivating, and courageous middle-grade Indian historical fiction featuring the unsung tale of heroes of freedom struggle. The Letter to Lahore (Songs of Freedom series) by Tanu Shree Singh Publication Date : August 15, 2023 Publisher : Duckbill Read Date : August 5, 2023 Genre : Middle-grade / Historical fiction Pages : 128 ⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4 out of…

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#1920s India #Begar system movement #Book Blog #book blog feature #Book blogger #Books Teacup and Reviews #Historical Fiction #Indian Author #Indian Book Blogger #Indian Fiction #Middle Grade #non-cooperation movement #Penguin Random House India #Songs of Freedom series #Tanu Shree Singh #The Letter to Lahore

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arkhmlcst · 11 months

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“ at last — my lonely days are over and life is like a song at last. ”

#— * musings #{{ I know this is a romance song but I listen to it almost like it’s like in a film for dewey #{{ the song playing as she slow falls to her ‘doom’ only to be saved and then it’s a series of cuts #{{ of dewey staring straight forward as the night goes on #{{ falling - being rescued - sitting in the ambulance - getting interrogated #{{ or maybe in the beginning a long take of dewey running at a b line toward dead man’s point #{{ ugh I LOVE FILMOGRAPHY no one talk to me I’m directing a film about dewey in my head #{{ and the person in the song she’s singing about is instead just Romantisizing life #{{ shes finally got ‘him’ her love her freedom #{{ my interpretation of the song for dewey is just what life means for her after escaping that hell #{{ you guys need to start interpreting songs as metaphors for ur characters even if not in the most literal sense #{{ it’s so much fun

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alastors-antlers · 4 months

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a brief take on the whole "Alastor's smile is permanent" discussion

hello all!

I've seen a lot of people theorizing lately that Alastor actually smiles all the time because his smile is magically, physically fixed onto his face. All of this seems to come from the fact that he's practically grimacing rather than smiling during the scene where he breaks down in ep8:

As well as this frame of his deal with Charlie: (lower res sorry)

I will say, I do like some of the implications of this theory. The sheer spite of his creditor forcing him to smile as an addition to their deal, almost like a sort of forced silence, is a neat concept. It's fun and dramatic. Plus, of all things, of course Alastor would claim the "smile at all times" policy and make it his own to pretend that it was his decision all along lol.

To be fair, though, I don't think we even need any magical compulsion to explain why he's smiling while he's having a mental breakdown. Actually, if we assume magical compulsion, I think we lose a bit of dimension from Alastor's character. (No judgement to anyone's take though, of course -- I just think this works in the direction of his established characterization, but obviously all personal takes <3)

Hear me out:

Alastor's persona is not just for others to see.

"A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends; keeps your enemies guessing; and ensures that whatever comes your way, you're the one in control."

That makes sense given what we know about him. If he's always smiling, he seems like he has it together. You can't read him very well, especially not when he's actively trying to keep up appearances.

Now consider that when you think about ep8's fight with Heaven, we see that he's already been through so much in this one day.

He fights an army of angels, presumably not even at his own whim (if we go by his blurb about freedom in the Finale song); he loses to Adam, who he considers sloppy and mediocre; his staff, which we can assume holds some part of his power, is snapped; he comes close to being Angelic-power-killed; and to top it all off, he knows that others watched him get injured and then apparently die or flee, all of which would ruin the public image that he's trying to maintain. It wouldn't even be unreasonable for us to assume that he knows Vox was watching, given that Vox kind of has eyes everywhere.

In a moment like this, in the finale, you could say that Alastor has lost (at least on some level) everything that we know matters to him. He doesn't have access to all of his magic, and it's limiting him. He's reminded that he doesn't have freedom or control over his own destiny. He certainly has taken massive hits to his powerful, composed persona. But he's desperate, and furious, and terrified, and clinging on.

That's why he's smiling.

It's not that he can't stop because he physically can't. It's that he can't stop because to him, the smile is the last thing that is still within his power. When there are so many moving parts that he can't predict what happens to him next, he can control how he responds to it. In these last fragments of autonomy, there is solace.

He needs to keep telling himself that he has it together and that he'll eventually scheme his way free, that there's a solution, that he won't be in chains forever; because letting his pretense slip would be admitting that it's all starting to actually get to him. That maybe this time, he doesn't have an escape plan.

In addition, if you read his interactions throughout the series, we also see something else: Alastor's reputation is of paramount importance to him. At multiple points throughout the series, when others disrespect him by discounting his power or presence, he gets visibly annoyed. And in the battle, we see a glimpse of the part of his personality he seems to be trying to leave behind - a normal Alastor, who's just some guy from Louisiana. No transatlantic accent; no unflappable malice; no sharp wit waiting at the ready. Maybe even unremarkable.

Dropping his smile - arguably the most prominent part of his brand - would be admitting that in reality, he's not the Radio Demon of legend that he aspires to project. And if he doesn't have that... where would he be?

#alastor meta #alastor analysis #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor meta #hazbin meta #hazbin alastor analysis #bro I love this guy so much

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jeannineee · 18 days

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coming up lavender, part one

cassian x reader x azriel

part two

author's note: heavily, heavily inspired by smoke signals and garden song by phoebe bridgers!! reader's power is almost like wanda's from marvel, for context!! as far as energy manipulation, anyway. it is felt far more than it is seen, though.

summary: reader grew up in the hewn city, and is set to marry someone of higher status in exchange for bettering her family's position at court, but what happens when things don't go as expected?

warnings: canon-typical themes of violence against women. harassment and misogyny. will def have angst, and there will be smut later on. this is an 18+ series.

"It's time, my lady."

The melodic voice of your most kindhearted servant, Celia, lulls you from your sleep. She peels the silk covers away from your body, and as you sit up, you know you don't have to look at her face to see there's pity lining it.

You're to be married, this afternoon.

You'd managed to mask your scent for years--mask the power growing just beneath the surface. But as you grew into womanhood, so did your magic. It became impossible to conceal.

Who were you marrying? You'd ask the question a hundred times, and received no response. Was he your age? Was he old and decrepit? Would you be his first wife? His fifth? Was he rude? Kind? The latter wasn't likely.

You were a prized mare, and the males of the Hewn City swarmed you like vultures to a carcass. They would rip each other apart--rip you apart, for a chance at having your power in their bloodline.

This day was bound to come sooner than later. You'd been raised for it, trained for it. Your sole purpose boiled down to being someone's wife. There was nothing for you outside of that. Or so your father would have you believe.

There were whispers. Shared between women and girls. Whispers of a beautiful city. Of starlight and freedom and peace. A city of dreams.

And, did you dream. Every night, you'd dream. Of grass beneath your feet, a warm breeze hugging your skin. A cloudless sky with the sun in your face. Of twinkling stars and planets you'd never reach in a thousand years. Ten thousand.

But this was the Hewn City. And there were no stars here.

Dreams were all you'd ever have.

"My Lady." Celia's voice tears you from your thoughts, brows still furrowed with worry. "You must ready yourself."

A curt nod, and you rise, following Celia to your bathroom.

She helps lower you into the tub. Lavender fills your senses as she cleans you; sweet and comforting. You hug your knees, and close your eyes, dreaming of a land you couldn't reach.

~~~

Hours later, your father circles you slowly, tightening your corset, fixing stray hairs. A scientist to a mouse. A tinkerer to parts.

A doll to be molded. A spectacle. Less than.

Your hands tingle with power, and you dig your nails into them. Take one deep breath. Then another. And another.

A huff of something resembling acceptance from your father, and your shoulders relax--as much as is possible, given the circumstances.

"This will have to do," he mutters, giving you a final once-over. "The ceremony is in two hours."

A roll of your eyes, which you immediately regret as he grabs your jaw, hard enough to sting. "Do not fuck this up for us. You know what you're meant for."

Normally, you'd recoil. Nod, and apologize. Instead, your eyes harden. Lips pull back as you snarl, "Careful, father. You'll ruin the prize."

His jaw drops, hand drawing back in preparation to strike, but he's interrupted as a courier enters the room. Your father's eyes don't tear from your form as the messenger whispers to him.

A few moments later and your father curses, pointing his finger in your face. "You're lucky."

You blink, confused.

"The high lord has called for a meeting with the court. You'll remain here until it's concluded."

Of course. As your power grew, your father shielded you from the high lord and his inner circle. Lest he ask any questions. Or want you for himself.

Your father gives no chance for you to respond before leaving you completely alone.

~~~

Two of your father's men barge into the room some time later, gripping your arms tight enough to bruise as you're dragged away. Panic rolls through you, gnawing at your bones as you swallow down bile and ask, "Where are you taking me?"

"The high lord wishes you to be presented to him."

Oh, you were going to die. Of that you were certain.

Stories you'd heard. The things he did. Able to shatter one's mind with half a thought.

The least he could do is take your father out with you.

You would laugh at the thought, if you weren't on the brink of emptying the contents of your stomach.

Minutes later, you're dragged into the great hall, forced upright.

Countless eyes are on you. Some, you recognize. Your father, Celia, other servants and lower lords. Men who had surely asked your father for your hand. Would you be marrying one of them?

Eyes slowly raise, and your gaze meets that of a beautiful man, with impossibly violet eyes, hair black as coal. Beside him, an equally beautiful woman, perhaps even more so, with honey-brown hair, and eyes that hold unmistakable kindness.

The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court.

You swallow thickly. Once. Twice. And bow your head.

"Hello, y/n," the high lord drawls, almost bored.

You can only stare. Await your fate.

"It is y/n, isn't it?" he questions, voice louder, now.

If you were going to die, you wouldn't be seen as weak and fearful.

So, you square your shoulders, raise your chin, let your power out a bit; simmer under your skin, roll through the crowd surrounding you. Hide the surprise you feel as everyone reacts to it. "That's correct. I'm y/n."

A smirk from the high lord. "Excellent," he says, rising from the arm of the throne, where the high lady--Feyre--sits. His eyes scan the crowd, surely searching for the rest of his inner circle. "We'll be going. With her."

A sputtering cough, and your father is standing in front of you moments later. "H-High Lord, she is not yours to take. She is to be w-wed. Today. We have other females, should that be something you wish for."

Rhysand regards your father with disgust. "Your daughter belongs to no one. But she will be coming with us. Or would you rather face the consequencecs of hiding her from court?"

Silence.

Rhys takes a step forward, power unfurling from his fignertips in waves. "Furthermore, if you disrespect your High Lady again, I will rip your tongue out and feed it to you."

You can practically smell the fear seeping from your father's skin, but that doesn't stop him from trying to reach for you.

You step back, tripping over your dress, and stumble against something hard--no, someone. You crane your neck as strong hands grip your arms, much gentler than the ones that held you earlier. Gentler than any that have touched you, in fact. Though his face shows no kindness. A mask, you were sure.

Seven red siphons, impossibly tall. Small, barely-there scars lining his face and neck. Beautiful, in an earthy sort of way. As though he was made by nature herself.

Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed. The General of the Night Court's armies.

Your father stares at Cassian. And stares. Before finally, albeit reluctantly, conceding.

"Good," Rhysand says. "We'll be off then."

Rhysand strides towards you, places a hand on your arm, and sweeps you away into a night-kissed breeze.

#cassian x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian/azriel/reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #general cassian #acotar x reader #acosf #acomaf #azriel smut #cassian smut #azriel angst #cassian angst #coming up lavender

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eywaseclipse · 2 months

Text

The Songs of Freedom Chapter 3: Sarentu

Characters: Sarentu OC named Kirani, Nor, Teylan, Ri’nela, So’lek, Priya, Tani, mentions of Jake Sully, the RDA and eventually Eetu

Synopsis: Several weeks go by since your rescue from TAP as you learn more about your clan, and adapt to your new life, but as time goes on you can’t help deny the tension between you and So’lek

Warnings: None, mainly angst and self doubt, mentions of past child abuse, swearing, a little bit of a hot makeout sesh

Word Count: 4k

The days once consumed with immeasurable guilt and fear seem to fade away onto the horizon of Kinglor Forest, as you reach new milestones in this new phase of your survival. Adapting to a new routine at Resistance HQ has taken some time but find you yourself distracted; off battling your demons as if too afraid of slowing down so that it might be enough for them to finally catch up to you once and for all.

Today, Tani has offered to teach you and the others how to properly weave traditional Na’vi garments and to truly embrace being Na’vi. You stand in front of the bathroom mirror scanning your body with careful eyes. You noticed that you’ve filled out since your arrival 2 weeks ago but still look weaker than the average Na’vi rebel around here.

You sigh and adjust your poorly braided hair tossing them behind your shoulders and head out of your room, seeing Ri’nela exit out of her own smiling to her warmly. “Good morning.” She takes her arm and wraps it around yours out of comfort, when you hear the creak of doors and watch Teylan and Nor walking down the hallway with So’lek closely behind them. Your stomach does flips staring at his tall willowy figure strutting down the corridor so effortlessly. You look at the way his strong thighs flex with every step, his arms swinging with confidence, and that he has gone without his kevlar vest today. You admire his long torso, looking at his stomach riddled with scars and ripcord muscles, up to his pecs and strong jawline.

Quickly adverting your gaze, you awkwardly wiggle your toes as if to convince yourself you weren’t just ogling at the warrior up and down. “Good, you’re up. We will head to the mess hall and meet Tani after.” So’lek’s voice echos through the hallway. You feel your cheeks heat up with blush spreading to the tips of your ears before you can muster the courage to respond. “So’lek said there’s some sort of celebration tonight” Teylan chirps in excitedly.

You all chat amongst yourselves as So’lek explains that the cause of celebration tonight is due to another human base being blown sky high. Sandwiched in-between Nor and So’lek, you all comfortably sit and eat your breakfast with Tani now present at the table.

“Alright shall we?” Tani smiles excitedly watching as the group of you follow suit. You look as So’lek stands unmoving, “are you not joining?” You ask curiously. “Duty calls” He simply replies with a slight smirk on his face, suddenly feeling the warmth from the palm of his hand gently press against the small of your back. You turn to him with a confused expression, no doubt obvious on your face, before he nudges you into the direction of the group.

Before you can even process the small gesture, Ri’nela begins firing off a slew of questions on bead making and garment crafting to Tani feeling like static run rampant in your brain. You enter what looks like a small cozy room tucked away in the corner of the space illuminated by the warm glow of string lights. Several large artisan rugs are laid out across the floor with a comfortable looking couch with more pillows in the corner. You smell the dust that’s collected in the room mixed with the fresh scent of new plants scattered in pots all around the space.

“Take a seat and I’ll show you how to make a loincloth.” She instructs. You see Teylan and Ri’nela excitedly sit eager to learn, as Nor appears unusually stoic. You say nothing and sit down on the plush rug, each being handed a leathery textured material.

“You are Sarentu. Your clan was renowned for their incredible diplomacy, storytelling, and bringing peace amongst the other clans. They were incredible at everything they did, valuing knowledge and spreading tales amongst Pandora traveling through the forest.” The way Tani spoke so highly of your clan, makes your heart clench with sadness. If it weren’t for TAP and John Mercer, you wouldn’t need a stranger to explain your own culture to you right now.

“We will help you remember who you are, and it starts by dressing Na’vi.” Tani smiles holding out several beaded arm bands. “Here, for each of you.” She smiles warmly, as you all reach for the beads. You hold yours more closely, examining the small river rocks woven intricately into twine. “It’s beautiful thank you.” Ri’nela graciously replies.

You spend the rest of the afternoon learning how to properly weave together a basic necklace and loincloth made out of the materials found in the forest; like crushed Ar’lek seeds with their red hue that create a colorful paste to mix with water for colored material. Or the many variations from flora and fauna that provide stylish accessories like the yomioang chalice plant.

You look down to your poorly crafted necklaces and loincloths made from some of the vines of the jungle and feathers Tani helped string into your hair and sigh. Suddenly, a loud cough erupts, causing your head to whip right up to the source. A stern looking So’lek peers in the doorway as you to blink several times. “How are things?” He booms. You all watch as he approaches and squats down close by, inspecting your work. “Hm.” He grunts out. “They learn fast.” Tani says fondly. “Come, I will take you to learn something more useful; weapons training.” He says with a playful tone in his voice. You hear Tani scoff and roll her eyes. “They are not ready for that yet.” But So’lek shakes his head. “They can walk? They can fight. We do not have the luxury of time.” He just replies curtly.

There’s an awkward tension hanging in the air as they go back and forth, but with a final sigh from Tani she concedes, “Fine. If you must.” Waving her hand at him. “Kìyevame” She smiles at you all. “What does that mean? Nor asks “See you soon.” She winks playfully. You all understand basic Na’vi thanks to Alma teaching you in secret, but only at a conversational level. “Don’t worry you have plenty of time to learn the catch phrases and sayings” So’lek rolls his eyes.

You exchange a look with Ri’nela, and stand up to follow So’lek together with Teylan and Nor grabbing your things. “W-what kind of weapons training are we learning?” Teylan asks nervously walking beside So’lek trying to keep the same pace. He laughs, and turns to you. “You’re not. The celebration is starting soon and I thought you all could use some real form of entertainment.” Offering you a small smile.

You look at him in confusion, “So you lied?” Nor accuses. “You deserve a night of fun. Go get changed and meet me in the main wing.” So’lek begins walking away before any of you can respond just standing in the hallway hands full of your new crafted garments staring wide eyed. “What the fuck.” You whisper to yourself.

You enter your room staring at your new clothes laid out on the bed. You know how to string a loincloth onto your body thanks to Tanywral explaining and demonstrating what it would look like, but you’ve never done this before. You remember a time when Mercer yelled at you just for putting several beads in your hair as a child. Slowly getting out of your basic shirt and sweatpants and fold them gently, you reach for the newly crafted green leather loincloth out of dried Clouded Lily leaves.

You try your best to string the newly woven beads around your chest as Tani demonstrated, still not used to the idea of showing so much skin. You wrap your bracelets and armbands around your wrists and arms, gently adjusting everything as you stare at this stranger looking back at you in the mirror by your bedside table. Your eyes scan your body, littered with your ugly puckered scars showing far too much of your azure color than you’re comfortable with. But this, this is the way. The Na’vi reject vanity and are open and carefree. It’s your culture to embrace your body as a gift instead of a burden. The time to start embracing this side of yourself now.

With a deep conflicted sigh you step out into the hallway and knock on Ri’nela’s door. With a soft creak it opens slowly, revealing her own newly crafted outfit. “Wow.” You both admire each other’s work. “I feel a breeze” You chuckle awkwardly waving your hand to your barely covered nipples and butt cheeks hanging out. “It is the way yeah? Might as well dress as Sarentu.” She smiles playfully. You see Teylan and Nor emerge out of their own rooms, looking at Nor’s handcrafted chest plate and intricately made headpiece.

Teylan on the other hand opted for a ratty tank top and tool belt he most definitely found in the lost and found bin you saw in the living room earlier. “We certainly look more Na’vi.” You smile at Nor. You notice a newfound confidence in your steps, as if your body subconscious notices the change as well. Your eyes now scan a lively living room where some of the humans have gathered around with other Na’vi. This part of the wing is warm, inviting; decorated with string lights, colorful handmade beads hanging off the ceiling, plants, artisan rugs and more. Your eyes circle in on a large table with various foods and drinks sitting there like a feast of royal caliber.

So’lek waves you all over to a small group, as he scans your body up and down with emotions you can’t quite decipher yet. A rush of heat spreads to your cheeks once more, biting the inside of your lip feeling more exposed than ever. “You look much better” So’lek softly declares leaning close to your ear.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, blinking several times for good measure. “Um.. thanks.” You cough out. You hear Nor snicker and cover his mouth to prevent another snort from coming out. “Come. Tonight we celebrate another victorious ambush. We have plenty of food and refreshments.” A handsome Na’vi approaches and claps So’lek on the back. “I’m Eetu, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He sends a harmless wink your way, just as So’lek scoffs loudly and rolls his eyes.

“Must you be here?” He grumbles with irritation. You just stare at the handsome man, a little bit younger than So’lek, but a few years older than you. You’re enamored by his beautiful vibrant eyes, taking in his features like the slew of scars he has scattered across his lips, forehead and cheeks. You hear Ri’nela giggle watching her cheeks flush with a magenta hue. “Are you from So’lek’s clan too?” She curiously inquires.

Nor and Teylan watch with puzzling stares, as Eetu smiles wide “No. I am from the Aranahe clan. I have an allegiance to this wondrous resistance here. You… why you bear the sigil of the Sarentu?” He points to the mark under your eyes. “Yes. We are Sarentu..” Nor puffs out his chest. You almost choke out a laugh, but stifle it as best you can watching this pissing match between the male Na’vi. “They are here to learn the ways of Navi. This is their new home.” So’lek steps in and stands in between you and Eetu.

“Oh of course of course..” Eetu raises his hands in the air and winks again but this time at Ri’nela. The balls of this man. “If you’re done, we can celebrate.” So’lek jabs at Eetu, with irritation clearly visible on his face. “Oh yes you must try fermented Yovo fruit juice! It’s the best.” Eetu happily grabs Ri’nela by the hand and waves you all over to the table.

Just as you’re stepping to follow suit, So’lek takes your hand gently. Looking up in surprise, you turn and face him, “Stay away from that one. He is nothing but trouble, he’s only interested in fooling around.” He speaks in a low tone, his voice sounds different and gravelly.

“Fooling around?” You ask in confusion. Did he mean..? “Surely you know what that is?” He raises a skeptical brow at you. You swallow hard and try to act as coy as possible. “You refer to the pleasures of the flesh..?” You reply awkwardly.

He only shakes his head and laughs, “Yes… You could say that. Come.” He brings his hand to the small of your back, gingerly pushing you forward to where the others now hold wooden bowls filled with this mysterious liquid. “Kirani! You’ve got to try this it’s so good!” Teylan laughs. It’s clear everyone is loosening up and enjoying themselves, so you take a wooden bowl and scoop it into a larger one as the beautiful purple liquid sloshes into the bowl. So’lek joins you grabbing his own and softly clinks his to yours. “Drink it slowly. It’s meant to be savored. It is strong.” He explains, as he brings his own drink up to his lips.

You raise the bowl to your mouth and take a tentative sip, the tangy sweet flavor immediately bursting onto your tongue causing it to warm your throat on its way down. “Whoah..” You gasp and smile at Ri’nela who enjoys her own. “Come and sit guys!” Priya suddenly pipes in. You smile and sit down on a layer of plush mats and pillows as the group forms into a circle.

You carefully watch as So’lek sits across from you, attentive eyes locking in on your movements causes your tail to lash madly behind you. “I am soooo happy right now.” Teylan squishes himself next to you. “Teylan how much of that have you been drinking?” You giggle. “Ummm I’m not sure I think this is my third bowl.” You nudge his shoulder playfully and shake your head, “You know that has alcohol in it right? It’s fermented.” Your noses scrunches in amusement.

“OH? Oops. No wonder it’s so good.” He slurps on more juice and you all laugh together enjoying the night’s provisions which include some smoked hexapede meat and roasted vegetables. The seasoning practically erupts with spices onto your tongue, with nothing like you’ve ever tasted before at TAP. You relish in several helpings, as the Yovo juice takes its effects. Feeling a languid warmth cascade over your body, you lean into Teylan a bit more listening to Eetu tell stories of his clan.

“You know what we should play though?” He wiggles his brows suggestively, “Spin the bottle!” He smiles mischievously with his canines gleaming in the dim warm light, watching So’lek almost sneer in his direction. “Spin the bottle?” Ri’nela squeaks curiously. Eetu chuckles, “It’s a game! You take a bottle and spin it around in the circle and whoever it lands on, the person who spun it, has to kiss them.” He smirks.

Nor looks at Eetu with both intrigue and slight disgust, “that’s what you call a game?” But it doesn’t seem to even remotely phase this strange Na’vi, he just rises to the table and grabs whatever glassware he can find and sits back down. “Yup!” The group began to dissipate over the last few hours only leaving you, Ri’nela, Teylan, Nor, So’lek and Eetu. You squirm amongst yourself feeling the effects of the alcohol envelope you in a cozy blanket of drunken serenity.

Much to your surprise So’lek makes no effort to get up and leave, in fact, his eyes meet yours briefly and then quickly advert back to the commotion. “Okay who spins first?” Eetu wiggles the bottle in the air. “Well it’s your game, just do it.” Nor rebukes sarcastically. You all laugh and watch as Eetu smugly spins this glass bottle in the middle of the small group as it twirls around, slowing down and stopping on Teylan. Your eyes widen in amusement watching Eetu’s reaction as well. “Well well well. Shall we pucker up?’ Eetu laughs out. Teylan is much drunker than the rest of you, and clumsily leans forward closing his eyes and puckering his lips out dramatically, just as Eetu leans in for a comedic peck on the lips.

You burst out into fits of laughter, watching as Teylan and Eetu stumble awkwardly kissing in a quick smooch, to the point where your belly hurts. Teylan finds it almost as entertaining as Eetu with a shade of blush forming on his cheeks. “Wow Teylan who knew you had that much game!” You hunch over laughing with Ri’nela next to you. “Fine, then you spin next.” Teylan grabs the bottle and shoves it into your hand in a feeble attempt to conceal his embarrassment. You just shake your head and smile “Fine fine.”

You bring the bottle to a fast spin, watching it move intently, as it slows down once more. When it finally stops, you look up to the direction it points in; right at So’lek. Oh no.You feel a slight panic looking up to watch his reaction, but he remains as stoic as ever. “This is ridiculous.” He scoffs out promptly. You watch as he avoids eye contact staring at his own feet, feeling your stomach flutter with dread. “Well if you don’t kiss her, I will.” Eetu happily interjects.

So’lek’s head immediately snaps up, his jealous eyes burning into the young Aranahe warrior. You nervously watch as So’lek practically twitches with anger, holding onto his composure with a thread, as his tail lashes behind him hysterically. But he says nothing. With flared nostrils he takes another sip of his drink and scoffs lowly, “As if I would care, go ahead kiss her.”

All it takes are the words of cruel rejection to light a fire under your ass, and grab the back of Eetu’s neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. With a muffled yelp he immediately kisses you back slipping his tongue into your mouth for good measure. The kiss feels sloppy and heated, as you feel your body tingle from the tips of your ears to the very end of your toes. Either from the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve consumed tonight or the rush of adrenaline, you feel a strange sensation shoot straight between your legs.

The drowned out cheering and yipping from the others, falls deaf on your ears when you suddenly feel a strong yank from your body. Your eyes snap open to see a furious So’lek rip Eetu off of you as he falls onto the floor with a loud thud. “Do.Not.Touch.Her.” A low growl escapes his mouth, watching in complete disbelief as your brain slowly catches up to what your eyes witness. “So’lek!” You shove him harshly. Completely unfazed, he ignores you watching Eetu staggering to rise up. “It’s all in good fun So’lek. You did not wish to kiss her? So I did. What is the matter?” He chuckles but he’s nervous.

The size difference between the two Na’vi is now abundantly clear, Eetu would be foolish to challenge So’lek, despite this game starting out as just light fun. “Guys calm down! No fighting!” Teylan feebly attempts to diffuse the situation but gets shunned as a result. “You do not touch her.” So’lek repeats once more with his finger poking at Eetu’s chest. The way the two men talk about you as if you’re not there causes backflips in your stomach, “Do not speak about me as if I am not here asshole!” You grunt loudly pushing So’lek out of the way. You’ve had enough humiliation for one night as you race to the dark hallway corridors.

You hear So’lek call out your name behind you, causing you to run faster in hopes of drowning out his voice all together. You rush to your door, and slam it shut with your heart pounding loudly through your throat. What the fuck just happened? You throw yourself onto your bed, with a fuzzy brain trying to make sense of the last hour of the evening when the loud creak of your door opens. “What the?” You sit up awkwardly watching as the brooding man storms into your room, meeting him halfway as you scramble to your feet.

You stare at him quizzically trying to figure out why he’d be here out of all places after his rejection just minutes ago. “What the fuck are you doing here!?” You spit out angrily. A few moments pass, and he sighs awkwardly taking a small step forward. “Why do you hate me?” You whisper softly. This causes his eyes meet yours, almost like studying your features close up inspecting your reaction. “I do not hate you. Why would you think that?” You scoff at his question.

“Are you kidding me? Ever since I arrived you’ve done nothing but give me cold stares and grunts for answers. Getting you to speak is like yanking out teeth. Not to mention all you seem to care about is the impending war with the humans. I mean you look at me as if I carry some disease!” You try your best to remain calm but your voice cracks under its harsh whisper, causing So’lek to wince.

“I am sorry. But you do not make it easy for me.” He huffs in frustration. Both your tails lash out from behind, hearing your heart thump fast in your chest. A small glint in his eyes and you may think that just maybe, he’s actually listening to you. He reaches out to touch your shoulder, as you quickly reject him, causing him to wince, knowing it’s well deserved.

“Shut up.” You stand your ground, despite the swirling thoughts of self doubt and confusion; no doubt thanks to the alcohol consumption. You watch as So’lek’s ears pin with shame, up close you can see the way he recoils at your harsh command. His lashes flutter with his own self doubt, pursing his lips together tightly. But he bites his tongue, “What was that?” He steps closer, causing your noses to almost bump into each other.

“You heard me..” A soft whisper leaves your mouth, but not as confident as before. So’lek smirks deviously and clicks his tongue, “Mmmm you are quite the brat, aren’t you?” You could swear you hear soft purring erupt from his chest. He snakes his hand around your throat with a feather light touch caressing your skin softly. Your eyes almost roll into the back of your head from his sudden touch, as he brings his palm to the back of your neck rubbing small circles.

“Tell me what you want…” He brings his mouth to whisper agains the shell of your ear, causing a delicious shiver to run down the length of your spine. “W-what?” You stutter with no grace whatsoever. He tightens his grip behind your head ever so lightly, “I said tell me what you want…” His nostrils flare out fighting his blooming anger as he fights to remain stoic.

After a few seconds you muster up the courage to speak, “you. I want you..” You almost don’t trust your own words until you see his very reaction, the smile on his face evident with some sort of hilarity. But he says nothing. “Hm… meet me at 0600 in the artillery room. I expect to see that attitude of yours left here..” He begins to walk towards your door leaving you behind in complete bewilderment, shaking with adrenaline as it closes with a harsh thud. What the fuck just happened?

Taglist: @justtweetie

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Text

Echoes of Love and Loss

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - A massive thank you to @thoughts-of-bear for working with me on this prompt. Im really excited about making a series out of this and hope it’s everything you envisioned <3

Word count - 4K

Warnings - Angst, Jealousy, Smut next chapter

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“You’re mine”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The party in your camp tonight was going to be like no other.

You could feel the energy vibrating through the air, a palpable buzz of excitement and relief after the long and grueling battle against Kethric Thorm and his cursed Shadowlands. Your group of companions were exhausted but excited as they made their way back to camp, already envisioning the celebration that waited for them. Wyll and Shadowheart were laughing and joking about needing a case or two of wine, Astarion was whining good-naturedly about how the outdoors were no place for a proper party, Lae'zel was grumbling impatiently about the need to make haste to Baldur's Gate, and Gale was eagerly discussing his latest theories on Elder Brain behavior with anyone who would listen

As you approached the Last Light Inn, you couldn't help but notice the change in atmosphere. Before the fight at moonrise towers, the mood was grim. Voices were hushed and nervous, weary of how much loss everyone had endured in the shadow curse.

But now, inside the tavern, the mood was lively. Everyone seemed to be talking at once, eagerly recounting tales from the recent battle and celebrating the lifting of the curse. Jahiera and her Harpers, along with the gnomes and tiefling, had already set off for Baldur's Gate, taking advantage of the newfound freedom from darkness and danger. You hoped the road wouldn’t be too hard on the. Almost everyone in the group had gone through enough to deserve a little bit of relaxed travel.

You scanned the small crowd, searching for Halsin's familiar figure among the faces. He had gone ahead of the group and you knew he was probably deep in thought. Since the fight at Moonrise Towers, he had been unusually quiet, a stark contrast to his normally talkative nature. Though you had noticed he was a bit standoffish before the fight, his usually guarded demeanor now seemed impenetrable. It was clear that something was troubling him deeply.

As you approached him, you couldn't help but notice the uncertainty in his eyes. They flickered with conflicting emotions, giving away his inner turmoil. He avoided your gaze, barely acknowledging your presence as he continued to walk forward. It was as if he didn't know how to face you anymore, or perhaps he was struggling with something that he couldn't share with anyone else. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken words and the tension was palpable.

The sting of disappointment was undeniable, a sharp ache in your heart. You hadn’t even been able to say anything to him before he had stalked off into the tavern.

Despite knowing better, you couldn't help but feel drawn to Halsin above all the others. When he let his guard down, he was an enchanting storyteller and a great listener. His skill with a knife was mesmerizing, transforming any simple piece of wood you brought him into a work of art. He’d sit with you and discuss the day, giving you advice on the various issues you came across on the journey thus far. And on rare occasions, when the night was still and the stars twinkled above, he would share songs he knew with you, his voice laced with a subtle hint of sorrow.

You both knew that he carried the weight of guilt for the curse in the shadowlands. He blamed himself, as if he had shirked his duties as a Druid and failed to protect the gifts given to the world by Silvanus.

The shadowland curse was a dark stain on his heart. A stone wall separating the two of you. You were hoping with the curse gone, perhaps that wall would’ve crumbled.

Of course, it seemed that hope would’ve been far too easy.

You took in a deep breath and steeled yourself. It wasn’t fair to expect the Druid to have deeper feelings for you if he simply didn’t. Halsin owed you nothing. Besides that, the connection you craved from him would probably bring more harm than good.

You couldn’t save the whole of Baldur’s Gate if you were falling over yourself to get approval from someone.

You tried to shake the thoughts from your head, slightly annoyed that the insecurities had dug deep enough into your mind that they threatened your mood. No, tonight you were going to have fun, no strings attached. You needed to ignore the ache in your chest so it wouldn’t ruin what you and your companions had accomplished.

What you really needed was a strong drink.

It didn’t take long to find a source of alcohol. Shadowheart and Wyll had lined up a few glasses and broken open a wine barrel, chatting casually as they sipped.

As you joined Shadowheart and Wyll at the makeshift bar, pouring yourself a glass of wine, you tried to push Halsin to the back of your mind. You listened half-heartedly to their banter, letting the sound of their laughter fill the space between your own troubled thoughts. The wine was sweet on your tongue, a welcome distraction from the inner turmoil that threatened to consume you. With each sip, you felt a little bit lighter, a little less burdened by the weight of your unrequited feelings.

But just as you were beginning to relax into the warmth of the alcohol, a familiar voice cut through the haze of noise in the tavern. "You look troubled, my friend," Wyll said softly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself as you met his gaze. “I... I'm fine,” you replied, willing yourself to sound convincing. But Wyll just gave you a pitying smile.

“You know, a case of wine and a good dance always lightens my night when I feel how you look.” He grinned.

Shadowheart scoffed, “I hope that wasn’t your attempt at flattering her.”

You gave Shadowheart a small smile, tucking your hair behind your ears. You knew Wyll had meant no harm by the comment, you probably did look disheveled by both your drinking and feelings.

“I was simply saying that we can’t let our companion stand here and drink looking this sad. Not after we literally just fought and survived a battle with the God of Death.” Wyll protested.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that dance, then.” You giggled, your tipsiness making words difficult to form, “I’m quite good you know, at dancing, I mean.”

“You are?” Shadowheart raised her eyebrows.

“Mhm” You shrugged, “I started learning to dance to help with agility. It turns out, I’m a better dancer than I am a fighter.”

“I should’ve guessed.” Wyll teased before holding out his hands, “Well then, show me how good of a dancer you are, o’ savior of the shadowlands?”

A small giggle escaped your lips as you took his hand, letting him guide you in a gentle spin. The warmth of his touch against your skin was comforting, filling the void in your chest with a sense of contentment.

Whether it was the wine or just pure exhaustion, being held by someone felt like a relief. Wyll's hand rested securely on your waist, his lips humming a simple waltz as he twirled you around the open floor. Despite the buzz of voices and laughter around you, it seemed like no one paid much attention to your dancing. Your feet moved effortlessly in sync with Wyll's rhythm, following his lead without hesitation. As he pulled you closer during the next spin, you found yourself leaning into him, seeking more of that closeness that eased your heartache.

But then, as your gaze wandered around the room, you caught sight of Halsin standing in the corner with his arms tightly crossed over his chest, his eyes locked onto where Wyll's hand rested on your waist. A tension filled the air between the three of you, making your once carefree thoughts feel heavy.

Halsin's gaze was like a thunderstorm, dark and brooding as it bore into your intertwined figures on the dance floor. The lively atmosphere of the tavern seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the weight of his stare pressing down on you. You felt rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from his piercing look. The unspoken words hung heavy between you, suffocating any semblance of joy that had filled your heart just moments ago.

As Wyll led you in another twirl, you could sense the tension in Halsin growing palpable. His jaw clenched tightly, his stance rigid as if he were battling some internal conflict. The music that had once filled your ears now seemed distant and muffled, drowned out by the deafening silence that enveloped you and Halsin.

Before you could even process what was happening, Halsin abruptly turned on his heels and strode out of the tavern, disappearing into the night without a word.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him leave. What on earth could that have been about? Your tipsy mind wondered if you had done something to offend him. If something you said or did at moonrise towers had made him hate you. Why else would he have been looking at you with such intensity?

Wyll clearing his throat brought you back into the moment, it was as if you had forgotten for a moment that you were dancing with him. Wyll gave you a knowing look and a soft smile as he let you go.

“You should go after him.” He prodded gently.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking back at the doorway.

“I mean, you only look at someone the way Halsin looked at you for one reason.” Wyll muttered

“What reason is that?” You stuttered, still not grasping the situation.

“Just go talk to him.” Wyll sighed, giving you a gentle nudge towards the door.

Then he walked back to Shadowheart, leaving you to make the decision to follow Halsin or not on your own. You stared back at the doorway, silently contemplating before you took a breath and walked out.

The crisp night air enveloped your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The full moon glowed brightly in the sky, casting a silvery light over the landscape. The stars twinkled like scattered gemstones, creating a peaceful and serene atmosphere. The whole scene made you feel a little calmer as you made your way further from the tavern, trying to see where the Druid may have gone.

The soft rustling of leaves caught your attention, and you followed the sound into the dense thicket on the outskirts of the camp. The moonlight filtered through the canopy of trees, casting intricate patterns on the forest floor as you ventured deeper into the shadows.

You called out Halsin's name, the sound of your voice swallowed by the silent embrace of the night. A lone owl hooted in response, its haunting call echoing through the stillness of the woods.

As you nervously pushed past a tangle of branches, you finally caught sight of Halsin standing at the edge of a moonlit clearing. His back was turned to you, his silhouette outlined by the ethereal glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, his shoulders drooping with an air of resignation.

You approached him slowly, unsure of what to say or how to break the heavy silence that hung between you. The distance between you felt like an insurmountable chasm, filled with unspoken words and unvoiced emotions that threatened to suffocate you both. Halsin didn't turn as you drew nearer, his gaze fixed on the moonlit clearing ahead.

“Halsin,” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper in the stillness of the night.

He stiffened at the sound of your voice, but still didn't face you. The tension in the air was thick, almost tangible as you stood just a few feet away from him. You could feel the weight of his emotions hanging heavy in the air, and it made your heart ache with a mixture of guilt and longing.

“I... I didn't mean to upset you,” you began, your words hesitant as you struggled to find the right thing to say. “I don't know what I did, but if I hurt you in any way, I'm truly sorry.”

Finally, Halsin turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the moonlight. His eyes held a storm of emotions, swirling with a mix of anger, hurt, and something else that you couldn't quite place. The lines on his face seemed deeper, as if the weight of the world had settled there. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable gap.

“You didn't upset me,” he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. “It's not about what you did. It's about what you make me feel.”

Confusion clouded your foggy mind as you tried to decipher his words. What did he mean by that? What feelings were stirring within him because of you?

Halsin sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I've tried to deny it, to bury it deep inside me. Try to ignore it outright, even. But seeing you with him...” He trailed off, unable to voice the turmoil raging inside him.

“With him?” You repeated softly, feeling a flicker of understanding dawn within you.

Halsin nodded, his gaze falling to the ground below as he spoke. "Yes, with him. Wyll. When I saw you with him, a part of me... a part of me wishes it were me dancing with you. A part of me wishes I could hold you close without being afraid."

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his confession settling over you like a shroud. You stood there, stunned by his revelation, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. The image of Halsin, always so composed and stoic, baring his soul to you was both heartbreaking and yet intoxicating.

“I... I didn't know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the silence of the night. “I thought you didn’t see me as anything other than an ally against The Absolute.”

Halsin finally turned to face you fully, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your arms. “I know,” he said softly, his voice raw with emotion. “I've kept my feelings hidden for so long. I thought I didn’t deserve to start falling in love with someone after how I had let the curse fester here. I thought I didn’t deserve you.” He grimaced.

“But seeing you tonight, seeing the way you laughed and danced with Wyll, it broke something inside me. It made me realize that maybe, just maybe, I do deserve a chance at happiness.” Halsin's voice was filled with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before. The moonlight bathed his face in a soft glow, highlighting the raw honesty etched in his features.

Your heart swelled with a myriad of emotions, the weight of his words echoing in your chest. You reached out tentatively, closing the distance between you and placing a hand on his arm. “Halsin, I... I don't know what to say.” Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words to convey the whirlwind of feelings swirling within you.

He gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of rejection or acceptance. “Please, just tell me the truth, my heart. Tell me if there's any chance for us, if there's any hope for a future where we can be more than just allies. Say the word and I’ll never bring this up again. We can be friends in the very least.” His voice was filled with a plea, a silent prayer that hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise. You felt the weight of his gaze on you, his vulnerability laid bare before you, and it stirred something deep within your heart.

As you looked into his eyes, searching for your own truths, a rush of memories flooded your mind. The moments shared together, the laughter, the quiet conversations under the moonlight. You realized that the connection you felt with Halsin ran far far deeper than mere friendship. It was an unspoken bond that had been quietly growing, nurtured by shared experiences and unspoken understanding.

Taking a deep breath, you met his gaze with hesitence. “Halsin,” you began, your voice unsteady from the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “I... I don't know what the future holds for us. But I do know that what I feel for you goes beyond friendship.”

You looked away, the sobering reality of your situation filling your mind again.

“But the cult… saving Baldur’s Gate. If it came to a moment’s decision, could you choose the fate of thousands over my own? Could we really save the people we need to save if we’re too focused on each other?”

Halsin's expression softened at your words, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes even at your hesitance. He reached out to gently lift your chin, guiding your gaze back to meet his.

“Love has a way of giving us the strength we never knew we had. Together, we can face whatever challenges come our way, even if one of us is lost.” He said, his voice filled with conviction

The moonlight seemed to dance around the two of you as you stood there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The weight of the world and the responsibilities pressing down on you felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth of Halsin's touch and the affection that was beginning to bloom between you.

“It won't be easy,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you gazed into his eyes, seeing a reflection of your own fears and hopes mirrored back at you. “But I want to try. I want to see where this could lead us.”

Halsin smiled, a smile that reached his eyes and filled your chest with warmth.

The two of you stood for a moment, locked in each other’s gaze, a mere breath from each other before Halsin let out a soft chuckle.

“It can’t be any harder than seeing you in Wyll’s arms.” He teased, pulling you gently into his arms.

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the moment breaking as a wave of relief washed over you. The weight that had settled on your shoulders seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of lightness and freedom.

"Who knew a old bear like you could be so jealous," you replied with a playful grin, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin.

“Jealous?” Halsin murmured thoughtfully. “I would not call it jealousness, my heart. Merely possessiveness.”

His tone was half an octave lower and your breath caught slightly. You could feel how Halsin’s arms ever so slightly tightened around you. You wondered how far you you could push the Druid’s buttons, the wine making you bolder than you might’ve been.

“I guess I'll have to test just how possessive you can get,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye as you playfully pushed against his chest, reveling in the way his grip tightened around you in response. The air between you crackled with a newfound tension, the unspoken desire that simmered beneath the surface now palpable in the moonlit clearing.

Halsin's gaze darkened slightly, a mixture of amusement and something more primal flickering in his eyes. “Careful, my heart,” he warned in a low voice, the rumble sending a shiver down your spine. “You might just awaken a side of me you're not quite ready for.”

A thrill shot through you at his words, the prospect of unraveling the composed facade he wore so effortlessly enticing.

The intensity of his earlier confession still hung thick in the air, your chest pressed tightly against his own. You couldn’t find the words for a smart retort as you looked up into his eyes, lost in his expression.

Your eyes flicked to his lips, absentmindedly wondering about how the little scar there would feel against your tongue.

As if sensing your thoughts, Halsin’s eyes darkened.

The air between you crackled with anticipation, the tension thick and charged with unspoken desire. With a sudden surge of courage, you closed the distance between your lips and his, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his arms around you pulling you closer.

Halsin responded eagerly, his restraint crumbling under the weight of the moment. The warmth of his body pressed against yours ignited a fire within you that blazed fiercely, consuming every doubt and fear in its path. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, a silent exchange of passion and longing that spoke volumes more than any words ever could.

As the kiss deepened, time seemed to stand still. When you finally pulled away for a moment, you were breathless.

Halsin’s eyes stayed locked on yours, his face still close enough for you to see the flecks of gold in his iris.

“You’re mine.” He murmured.

You blinked in surprise, trying to ignore the way his words sent a flurry of goosebumps across your skin.

His gaze was possessive and heated, the feelings he had while seeing you with Wyll obviously still nagging at his thoughts.

You paused, searching his eyes as the anticipation rose in your chest. As the heat pooled in your stomach.

“Prove it then.” you whispered.

He didn’t need further encouragement. With a fierce determination in his eyes, Halsin lifted you effortlessly off the forest floor and carried you deeper into the heart of sparse woods. The moonlight guided your path as you clung to him, your heart racing with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

As he found a secluded wrapped in a blanket of new and soft grass, he gently set you down, his gaze never leaving yours. The air around you was thick with desire, tension swirling between you like a tempest waiting to break free.

Without a word, Halsin captured your lips in another searing kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepened the connection between you. Every touch felt electric, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins.

The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. The rustling leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures formed a haunting symphony to accompany the unbridled passion that burned between you.

Halsin leaned further against you, settling between your legs. Your mind began to cloud with need, everything about the Druid enveloping you completely.

Halsin pulled back for just a moment, staring down at you hungrily.

“I promise you, when tonight is over, you will have no doubts of who you belong to.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Pt 2

#halsin #halsin silverbough #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin fluff #halsin smut #baldurs gate 3 halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin series #halsin spoilers #halsin romance #halsin fic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x you #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader

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alltheirdamn · 3 months

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alltheirdamn masterlist

Welcome to the ever-growing list of works I'm creating!

Please remember everything is 18+ MDNI !!! Everything will contain SMUT so be advised and read all warnings!!

SERIES:

Mando x f!reader **on hiatus**

Chapter 1 Summary: when you discover a bounty has been put on your head, your future and freedom are on the line. Chapter 2 Summary: Mando finds himself back on Tatooine... unable to let you go. Chapter 3 Summary: You're getting comfortable around Mando. He... doesn't know what to feel. Chapter 4 Summary: It was bound to happen eventually, right? Chapter 5 Summary: Are you strong enough? Chapter 6 Summary: Trust goes both ways. Chapter 7 Summary: Sometimes, the past comes back to haunt us. Chapter 8 Summary: The truth fucking hurts. Chapter 9 Summary: Running isn't always as easy as it sounds. Chapter 10 Summary: Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum Chapter 11 Summary: Din lets you have a little bit of control before saying goodbye. Chapter 12 Summary: Revenge tastes so fucking sweet.

Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader **ongoing**

Series Summary: You've nursed a broken heart for two years. ‘Love’ felt like a foreign term, but maybe it wasn’t so far out of reach.

Chap. 1: Your Name Summary: When you catch the eye of your students' dad at a school dance, he starts showing up everywhere. Chap. 2: See me Summary: To be loved is to be seen. You're slowly learning that Joel sees you a lot more than you realize. Chap. 3: Violent Delights Summary: Every ounce of your resolve fades away as Joel finds his way past your walls. Chap. 4: Lost In Moonlight Summary: You couldn't deny Joel any longer. You needed him. Chap. 5: Nevermore Summary: It's hard to understand why everything feels so right. Chap. 6 Buried Truths Summary: When the past can only be contained for so long, Joel is there to pick up the pieces. Chap. 7 The Past Summary: Memories of the past suspended in time. Chap. 8 Stages Summary: The truth is the hardest pill to swallow. Chap. 9 Act 1, Scene 1 Summary: Time passes, but the memories remain.

LIMITED SERIES:

Mechanic!joel x f!reader

Part 1 Summary: You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small-town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back. Part 2 Summary: After a summer away, you decide to pay a visit to your favorite mechanic. Part 3 Summary: Swear? On my life. Oil Change Drabble Summary: Joel decides to teach you a lesson in changing oil. The Bet Summary: Joel makes you a bet on a night out.

A series of one-shots inspired by Ethel Cain songs

Crush Jackson!joel x f!reader Summary: After sharing a late-night smoke with a stranger, you let him take you home to his place... American Teenager Neighbor!joel x f!reader *coming soon* Gibson Girl Joel x sex worker!f!reader *coming soon* Western Nights Biker!joel x f!reader *coming soon* Lilies Dom!joel x sub!f!reader *coming soon*

Corrupt Dark!Preacher!joel x f!reader **DUBCON** Summary: You indulge in the voice of the Devil for one fateful night. *please read tags/warnings*

Couch Chronicles Frankie Morales x f!reader x Benny Miller Summary: When you accidentally tell your boyfriend, Frankie, that you think his best friend is cute... he makes a plan.

#masterlist #alltheirdamn

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shalotttower · 5 months

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Fractalize (part 1)

Title: Fractalize

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Summary: Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness.

Word count: 3700+

Characters: Chrollo x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere Chrollo, kidnapped, depressed and miserable Reader, Reader is dissociating a lot, morbid pondering, suicidal thoughts, explicit/triggering language/words, Reader's thoughts on possible sexual assault in future. Part 2

Fractalize - making things into smaller copies of themselves over and over again.

Sometimes you stand in front of a mirror and try to picture yourself in another timeline. One where your life didn’t take this specific turn. You try to imagine a different setting, a different apartment - perhaps the one you had before Chrollo started moving you around like a luggage bag. Maybe living in a cottage by the sea or an old farmhouse. Someplace rural, peaceful. With a garden and fresh air, far away from the city noises.

It's difficult at first, your reflection keeps slipping through your mental fingers every time you think the image is set in place. But with practice it becomes easier, sort of, so you can now see yourself clearly as you brush your hair - not here.

A blue dress on, made for nights at parties with friends. Laughing until your stomach hurts and eyes become sore. Making silly faces over alcoholic beverages. Or you can wear your favourite jeans with a high waist and head out to the pub, the same one with crooked stools and a broken sign. Drink cheep bear, eat greasy peanuts from a little bowl, listen to some small band play unknown and unheard songs.

Leave intoxicated, and everything is too fast and vibrant and wonderful until you're back home.

It's your favourite pastime now: imagine, remake and slip.

Imagine. Remake. Slip.

You don't quite remember the last time you laughed, a month ago maybe. Maybe more. Lack of hope creates a strange kind of numbness, dull, cold, you would compare it to a winter plastered all over your insides, but it's almost colder than that. It freezes everything and turns it into icicles hanging off the roof.

Remake, slip.

You have new vocabulary now.

"Mm" - is for when he asks you if you like a dress or a top and it doesn't matter how you actually feel about it, because it's going to end up being worn anyway.

"Okay" - is for when Chrollo sets another fancy meal for you on a dinner table and "Eat, don't be shy".

"I'm not hungry" - doesn't work with him, even if it's the truth. You always eat what's put in front of you, that's the rule, because he's not above shoving the spoon into your mouth, so you spare yourself the tears and sobs that will probably come with that. It's so bizarre: how much effort he puts into keeping you alive when you're anything but.

"Whatever you want" - is for when he asks you something that requires a choice, between two or three options usually. He's not one for an extensive list.

"If you say so" - for everything else.

You used to delude yourself with the idea that if you managed to appear pleasant enough, pleasant-talking, pleasant-listening, smiling a bit here and there, it would gain you some privileges and perhaps a bit more freedom. It did. But never where it really mattered. Those little things were absolutely inconsequential in the grand scheme. Yes, you can have that sweater, dear. No, you can't have your own bed. Yes, you can come shopping with me, if you give me a kiss. No, you can't take walks without me holding your hand.

Yes this and no that.

Those moments were fragile and so very takeable that they didn't give you any sense of accomplishment, just a short respite and bitter aftertaste that made you feel pathetic.

Wasn't worth it.

***

"Do you like animals, dear?" Chrollo asks out of the blue one day. He's reading something on his tablet while you're curled up on the couch, watching TV.

It's a new series that's been on the major channels for a few weeks, a mystery drama about a girl who moves into a house she inherited from her grandfather. The picture provides a distraction enough to have you forgetting where you are for a brief period three times a week.

You pull the blanket higher. "I do."

He knows it.

The girl on the screen finds a mysterious box hidden in the attic. Perhaps there's something valuable inside. Or information about her grandpa; your fingers tug on a loose blanket thread without much thought.

"What kind?"

Or maybe it's just a time capsule with photos and postcards and random objects collected over the years.

Or-

You had a cat before he took you. A foster grey ragdoll with blue eyes who liked to rest on your belly and bump her head against your chin. You called her Miss Whiskerton and kissed her little nose, because she did act like a proper lady - poised, dignified and entirely too proud to eat food mixed with medicine. The worst enemy Miss Whiskerton has ever had in her cat life was the corner of your couch. When you weren't paying attention, she would dig her claws into the fabric and leave thin lines. You hope that someone took her in.

She probably thought you abandoned her.

"Cats."

Chrollo hums in acknowledgment and continues scrolling through whatever he's looking at - maybe news or auction listings, you don't know nor do you really care. You shift under the blanket, pulling your legs closer to your body.

"We can get one, if you'd like."

"No."

Your answer is immediate and short, without thinking. You know it, you know him by now - there's nothing Chrollo does out of spontaneous generosity, it always benefits him in some way. And you've studied him enough to figure that any pet would only be a tool to keep you tamed and compliant. Puppies make life better. Happier, lighter, with goofy smiling faces and wiggling tails. Cats make life better with soft purrs and paws stomping on your chest. They're too easy to love.

"Why not?" There's a sound of tablet set on a wooden surface.

The girl on the screen is trying to solve a combination lock on the box when the TV switches off and your little world of carefully shot scenes and scripted lines vanishes. You don't need to turn around to guess where's the remote.

She almost had it, but now you won't know what's inside until Thursday evening.

Your reflection stares back from the dead screen, blank-faced and with a blanket pulled up your nose. It tickles a bit. "Because I don't want one."

A chair creaks. "Why?"

You close your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. This is tiring. Always probing, digging, pushing. Trying to find chinks in your armor, but all you're wearing is just a flimsy dress with thin straps and a blanket you wish could swallow you whole.

"Don't need it."

"You said you like animals," Chrollo sits next to you and places a hand on top of your covered legs. He squeezes your thigh and you stare ahead, wishing he would just leave you alone tonight.

"I do." Your fingers twitch under the blanket, nails scratching at the fabric.

Strange. Sometimes it feels like he understands perfectly that you want to be alone, have time for yourself and don't want his constant physical presence. At the same time Chrollo brushes this all aside like old tin foil wrappers - insignificant. He pulls the blanket down and you cling on it stubbornly for a few seconds before letting go. His thumb and index finger grasp your chin and turn your face towards him so you have no choice but to meet his eyes.

There's such still intensity within him that made your skin crawl whenever he looked at you with this much focus and attention. You don't know what he saw there most times, it used to be fear or anger or sadness - right now it's none of these things. Everything inside you feels jammed and stiff.

"We should get a fish then," he continues, brushing hair out of your forehead. "You can watch it swim around, wouldn't that be nice?"

Chrollo talks to you like this sometimes, as if you're a child who needs to be convinced to eat veggies or take medicine. Like you're simple-minded and he's reasoning with you out of good will. It's sickening. You hate it.

"I don't want a pet," you repeat the words slowly. "If you're going to give me something only to take it away, then I don't want it."

His finger leisurely stroking your chin pauses at the edge of your bottom lip. Something flickers behind his eyes, it's barely noticeable but you've become good at catching those minuscule shifts. He smiles, yet there's nothing joyful about it. "Take it away? Why would I do that, dear?"

"Because that's what you do. Because that's how you are." You don't try to pull free from his hold, he'll only tighten it; not enough to hurt, no, he is too suave and polished for that - or wants to appear so - but enough for you to feel trapped under his palm.

There's something off about you, you can tell, but are not quite able to discern what or where. It sits in the very structure of your bones and eats away with ravenous appetite. An imbalance in the gut. Fever-warm body, cold fingers. Thoughts like potholes.

"And how am I exactly, according to you?" His voice is light, playful, a stark contrast to his eyes that study you with unnerving precision. Chrollo rarely loses his temper and never gets violent with you (yet, you correct yourself), but he has other ways of expressing displeasure, and they're petty, ugly and cold.

"Cruel," the word rolls off your tongue so effortlessly that almost frightens you; it's easy to tell the truth when you're this numb.

He looks taken aback for a split second, and the smile freezes. His hand stops midway to your hair. Then everything's gone.

Chrollo releases you and leans back into the cushions, almost thoughtful, like your observation is something that requires careful consideration.

"I suppose, it depends," he says finally.

"On what?"

"On how you choose to see things. Your perspective is bound to be biased, dear."

You don't respond.

To continue this conversation would be pointless and circular, like running on a treadmill, like everything else between you and Chrollo, really. He simply has too many answers to any possible argument, and no matter how convincing you manage to make them sound, he'll poke holes into each one. You don't want a fish. Or a cat. Or a dog, a bird, anything that moves and breathes and looks at you with big, trusting eyes.

Chrollo is cruel. Not in a way that's straightforward and brutal. Not in a way of someone who'd tear your limbs apart or rip off a fly's wing to see it wiggle. You have no doubt that he is capable of such a thing, but that would be uncouth. Cruelty in his case is a quieter, more delicate affair - in a way of a sculptor who'd chisel off everything unnecessary and unneeded, no matter the size or significance, to produce something entirely his.

His hands are soft, his voice is always composed, and he wears well tailored clothes. But the rest is sharp, clean and merciless.

"I think I'll go to bed," you say and push away the blanket.

"It's early."

"Mm."

He takes your hand just as you're about to slide off the sofa. Chrollo's always faster than you, always ahead and always observing, and that little realization while bitter is not so shocking anymore, more like another fact that you file away from your interactions.

You watch him. Wait.

"You're distraught," he says. "But you should know by now that there's no need for that."

Your hand remains in his grasp, limp and heavy.

"I don't enjoy seeing you upset, dear. Even more if you make false conclusions."

You turn to see the expression on his face - and there isn't one, at least not the type that most people would make. There are no frowning eyebrows, no clenched jaw that would indicate irritation, nothing like that.

"You're giving me too little credit," his tone is quiet as he runs his fingers up and down your wrist. "My intentions are not to hurt you. They are much, much sweeter than that."

"But you would," you say quietly and lean closer, ignoring the obvious implication behind his words. There is a hollow sensation inside of your head that prompts you to speak, everything is hollow - body and mind, heart, the space in your guts, your throat. "You would hurt me, if that's what you thought was necessary. Rip me apart and leave me deformed beyond repair, to fit into whatever framework you've laid, you would do that."

You're not being deliberately cryptic or fatalistic. These are your observations, based on a period of months spent together. They take root in no one being there for you anymore, in your phone which is long gone, in your closed accounts, your missing laptop and old clothes, the entire previous life in the city that has been discarded for something new. Chrollo was very methodical, you can give him that.

He doesn't listen, he studies your responses. Every single word. He has a talent for that, for absorbing everything about you while hardly ever letting you glimpse his interior - all that you know about him are tiny slivers which you picked up through living together, observation, accidental bits.

You expect him to contradict your statement, to offer a logical explanation why you're wrong, but instead Chrollo brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against your knuckles. The touch is light and dry.

"You're not entirely wrong, dear," he says and moves closer until you can smell his aftershave, something fresh.

His proximity is uncomfortable, it always is and probably always will be.

"I'm right then," you say.

"No," he keeps your hand in his grasp. "But you're not entirely wrong either. That's what makes you interesting."

There's a strange kind of fondness in his voice, it's subtle, yet undeniably present. You've never felt less interesting in your life, in a dress with thin straps that's too fancy for a lazy day at home and your bare feet and tangled hair.

"If you say so," you respond and slowly tug your hand free. "I really want to sleep now."

You get up, and he lets you go without another proposition. The blanket falls off onto the sofa, and before you slip into the semi-darkness of the bedroom, he says,

"Not beyond repair. But I like to believe we can both agree it doesn't have to come to that."

***

The drive feels endless. Houses and streets blur in a mix of colors, shapes and people, which soon change to an empty highway with greenery on both sides. Trees and fields, tall grass swaying gently in the wind and rare cars passing you by. Chrollo's hand is resting on your leg; he hasn't moved it since the car started, but you choose to ignore it in favor of your regular pastime, the one that's made of imaginary worlds and places where the timeline stretches differently.

Mostly it's just you and the layout of your fake apartment.

Imagine, remake, slip. Repeat the steps until it becomes muscle memory.

You have this daydream on loop now. Wooden floor and wide windows, lots of sunlight. Books everywhere, comfy clothes and not a single skirt in your closet. A cup of tea with honey in the morning, and Miss Whiskerton curled into a soft grey ball on your lap. You feed her salmon in a shiny bowl, occasionally she catches a lizard outside and drops the tail on your doorstep as an offering, looking immensely proud of herself.

A smile slips on your face without meaning to, a wobbly thing; you promptly wipe it off.

It would be a crime to show such blatant joy. This fantasy has become so sweetly personal that every fiber of your being resists even acknowledging it in front of Chrollo. He can sense a stray happy thought from miles away, like a hound, and will never stop prodding until everything is raw and tender. You've learned to say less in his presence, especially if it's something that has you invested. Chrollo knows how to pick things apart.

You lean your cheek against the glass. This world would never happen, never in a million years, but dreaming doesn't hurt anyone, does it?

Your grandma, wearing an apron, sets a tray filled with fresh pastries on a table, because she's amazing like that. She fusses and worries and pretends to scold you. For not calling enough, for not coming sooner, for not eating well. For leaving.

"Dear."

You almost jump.

Chrollo's voice brings you back where his hand is heavy on your leg, you're wearing a dress above the knee and aren't allowed to use scissors or knives.

"Mm?"

"That frown of yours," he says, turning into a small road. The surroundings change again, it's quiet here, not a soul in sight. "It's been there for fifteen minutes now."

You sit up straight and move your hair out of your eyes. Chrollo's a perceptive one, so this is a reminder not to sink too deep around him, unless you absolutely need it.

"Was just thinking."

"You do it a lot lately," he states and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

True, but you have no intention to confirm it. First, he won't like the reason behind these thoughts. Second, he will dig and try to worm his way in. No. Most of what you've been fixating on, staring out of the window like a mindless drone, or reading and rereading pages that you barely grasped, would fail to create anything more complex in his heart than desire to pull it out.

For whatever twisted reason, Chrollo cares for your well-being, or, more precisely, your acceptance of his advances. Yet his way of caring isn't nurturing in any sense.

Chrollo's interest (you don't dare call it love) is crushing, too heavy to carry - he'll find what troubles you and "fix it" in way that will twist it into something pathetic. Something that shows how you have nothing else to cling on but him. You're not stupid enough to keep falling into this trap. Being a slow learner doesn't mean you don't learn at all.

He's done it before. He'll do it again. So you reply, "I haven't noticed."

His thumb rubs circles on your thigh; you press your shoulder against the car door as if hoping it might open. It doesn't, much to your disappointment.

"What was on your mind then?"

Something you shouldn't tell him, that's for sure. Chrollo's watching you, even if his eyes are trained on the road.

"Random stuff," you say. Half-truths, half-truths are safe. "A weird dream I had this morning."

If you bothered to look, you'd see a raised eyebrow and the faintest hint of amusement at the corners of his mouth. You don't.

"Tell me."

You hate when he does that.

"It was boring."

"I'm interested in anything that made you so pensive."

Chrollo likes conversations with you, even if they're short. You can tell that he does, or he wouldn't be trying to make you talk and getting subtly frustrated when you choose not to. It never shows outright, Chrollo is very gifted at keeping his calm exterior, but there are certain giveaways like the slight tightening of his hand, an emphasized "dear", a pause here, or a quiet exhale through the nose. You could make a list out of these.

If you ignore him, he gets quiet and handsy or petty enough to throw away the only dress you feel comfortable in. Stop bringing you new books. Take you to places you hate.

It's always the small things that kill you, not the big, dramatic ones. The devils in the details.

"There was a lizard," you begin, and he hums in response, prompting you to continue. "It was cute with brown spots and a tiny tail."

Lies weave themselves easily, intertwine with truths and turn it into something that resembles a story.

"It was sitting on my windowsill and I wanted to pet it. A cat came out of nowhere and almost ate it, then I woke up. It's a silly dream."

There. Nothing to dissect here, not that you can see. Just a nonsensical dream, filled with random happenings and strange emotions.

"And that's why you frowned for fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, I got sad."

Yes, you think. Yes, Chrollo. I frowned, because I care for the damn lizard that doesn't exist, an animal from a dream. A stupid musing, nothing special, a very mundane and simple thing, because people do have silly dreams sometimes, and it's not a crime. It's not a crime and has nothing to do with that fact that I have a whole dream world where I'm not with you in my head.

"How peculiar. You never struck me as the type to get upset over something like this."

"You never asked," you respond flatly and Chrollo's hand on your thigh moves an inch.

It brushes up, closer to where you really, really don't want it to be, so you squeeze his fingers hard and redirect them to the curve of your knee.

"True," he says after a pause, not sounding too bothered. A month ago you would've brushed his hand off completely, probably that's why. Chrollo is convinced that with enough patience and effort he'll be able to close that final barrier between you both. Time, coaxing, a dose or two of endearment, some carefully calculated touch - but you'd rather stick a knife through your ribs than have sex with him. Or his patience will simply run out and he'll rape you. You're not delusional. Not a fool. "Well, that can be fixed. I'll make sure to ask about your dreams more often, dear."

You lean back into the seat and stare ahead, this time without anything pleasant on your mind. Of course he will. Of course he'll take this as a sign to dig deeper and invade that small bit of solace, Chrollo can't simply co-exist. He wants it all.

"Mm," you say.

Your new vocabulary is such a handy thing.

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #hunter x hunter fanfic #chrollo lucifer x reader #shalott fanfiction

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mochirimochi · 7 months

Text

Somewhere Safe

William Afton X Reader

I wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit ok?

-This is now officially part 1 in a series!-

p1 ● p2 ● p3 ● p4

-----

You just need somewhere safe to hide from your abusive ex. Unfortunately for you, you're about to stumble into the arms of something much, much worse.

18+ Minors DNI.

~3700 words, no use of y/n

-----

cws: abusive relationships, degradation kink, breath play if you squint, smut, rough sex, EXTREMELY dubious concent, a sprinkle of spanking

You can also read on ao3 if you prefer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51567985

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Your arms shake as you push up the rusted steel door that separates the pizzeria from the outside world. Every clatter and rumble of the metal makes you flinch and sweep your eyes over the abandoned side lot. There shouldn’t be anyone out and about to catch you at this time of night, right? Regardless, your heart pounds as you force the heavy door up, inch by agonizing inch. As soon as you’ve made enough space for your body you toss your bag under and swiftly crouch to follow it.

Breaking and entering is far from your typical Monday night activity, but circumstances have left you with little choice in the matter. You need somewhere you won’t be found, somewhere no one will think to look for you. A dilapidated former birthday attraction certainly fits the bill, you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned the place to your ex before and if you have he probably won’t remember anyways.

You give the door a tug to close it behind you, flinching as it slams back down into the concrete, and pick your way through the broken glass of the entryway. The smell of mildew is heavy in the air, clawing at your lungs and making your eyes water. This place used to be so vibrant and full of joy once upon a time. You’ve attended many a birthday in the restaurant that stretches out in front of you, even had a few of your own. This place had always been a favorite of the local parents due to its… generous wine portions and the ability to outsource their children's supervision. As a result it had been a kids paradise, the ability to run wild while mom and dad got lost in the sauce on a Saturday afternoon? Few things could rival that sense of freedom for a kid. Ironic as it was considering what had come later, it had always been a place where you felt safe and happy. Maybe that was why you’d chosen the pizzeria when you needed to hide from your abusive boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now you suppose. It wasn’t like you had any plans to go back to the man after tonight.

You give yourself a shake, attempting to bring yourself back to the moment at hand. This isn’t exactly the time to be spacing out after all, you’re technically committing a crime. Actually, there isn’t anything “technical” about it, you’re definitely breaking multiple laws right now. You shoulder your backpack and cast a glance toward the stage, it’s concealed behind a dusty red curtain but you can practically picture the animatronics behind it ready to jolt into song and dance just like they did years ago. You wonder if the owner removed them when he shut the place down. If you pull back the curtain will you find the shabby remains of your childhood heroes? You shiver, maybe it’s best not to find out.

If you remember correctly, the staff always entered and exited through a door next to the prize counter, maybe you’ll find a staff room with a couch through there. It seems like as promising an idea as any so you flick on your flashlight and make your way past the dining area and through the arcade. Sure enough, you’re greeted with a “staff only” sign and an unlocked door to boot.

The hallway beyond is dark, lacking any of the color of the show floor. Interestingly, flickering yellow bulbs hang from the ceiling sporadically. The emergency power must still be on in this part of the building, you reason as you cautiously move through the hallway. You round a corner and let out a yelp as you collide with something huge, brown, and strangely soft. The impact knocks you off balance and you land rather gracelessly on your ass. It takes a moment for your brain to comprehend what you’re looking at as your gaze travels upwards over pudgy brown legs and a round plush stomach.

“Fredbear?!” The exclamation comes out before you really have a chance to think. “How in the world did you get all the way over here?” Your heart, which has been about ready to leap out of your chest, slows as you take in the animatronic. It’s in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the rest of this place. You push yourself to your feet and take a few steps back. “I can’t believe they actually left you guys here, you’d think they’d have moved you. Poor guy, all this time stuck in this dingy old hallway.”

It’s strange when you really think about it, who would leave him just standing in the bowels of the restaurant? It seems like an awfully strange place to just leave your star animatronic, rushed closure or not. After a moment, a distant memory of the animatronics being wired to wander through the pizzeria comes back to you, in fact now that you think about it you can remember getting a big warm hug or two from the Freddy animatronic. That would explain it, maybe his circuits got damaged over time and had triggered that unique function.

“Sorry to bug you big guy, I promise I’m not here to cause trouble. I just… needed somewhere safe.” Not for the first time that night you feel tears well in your eyes. “Nope, I am not going to cry over this. Not happening, you didn’t see me cry as a kid and you’re not gonna see it now.” You blink the tears away and the absurdity of your situation finally hits you. Not only are you hiding from your psycho ex and breaking the law for the first time in your life, but you’re also talking to a decrepit old robot like it can actually understand you. You heave a shaking sigh to ground yourself and pull your shoulders back. This might be your lowest moment but you refuse to let yourself wallow in it. With a determined huff you give Fredbear an affectionate pat on the arm before moving further into the building.

Before long you stumble across the staffroom, a long cluttered room with an extended plexi-glass window looking out into the hallway. Maybe at another time the window would serve to make the room feel brighter and bigger but now the dust covered plastic is shot through with a spider's web of cracks that barely allow you to see into the room. The door is unlocked though, and after a few quick shoves the warped wood releases its hold on the frame to allow you entry. Luckily, the room seems fairly well preserved and you spot a few dusty but intact couches pushed up against the wall. Jackpot. The exhaustion you’ve barely been keeping at bay all night hits you like a freight train and you lurch across the room to the couches. You collapse onto the nearest one, sending a fine cloud of dust into the air. You can’t bring yourself to care as you curled into a tight ball, finally letting sleep take you.

–

William watches the security cameras with curiosity as you wind your way through the building. Normally the animatronics would have taken care of any intruders well before they got to this point. This is new, novel even. He leans forward at his desk, squinting at the video feed in an attempt to get a better view. His jaw almost drops when you collapse onto the couch and fall still. Even through the grainy monitor he can tell that you’ve fallen asleep. What in the world is your deal? Who in their right mind would break into an abandoned establishment of dubious repute only to take a nap? He clasps his hands in thought as he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest. This calls for a more… hands on investigation.

–

A tickling in your nose rouses you from your slumber and you begin to sneeze yourself awake with surprising force. You check your watch, barely 4 in the morning. You’ve only slept for an hour at most and exhaustion threatens to pull you back into sleep. It might too, if not for the insistent vibration of your phone in your pocket. You flip the cursed thing open without hitting the button to answer, bracing yourself for what you know you’ll see.

Unsurprisingly, you’ve got 53 unread texts, 20 missed calls and 16 voicemails. You don’t need to check the contact info to know who they’re from. Against your better judgment you navigate to your sms messages and begin to read through the backlog when your phone finally stops buzzing. Some of the texts are pleading, others threatening. A few texts claim to “love you so much” and be “so fucking sorry”, while others rail at you “you fucking bitch” and “how dare you fucking run off like that?”. The messages paint a grim but unsurprising picture, a picture that’s unfortunately all too familiar. You raise your hand to the tender bruising that you know must be beginning to come to the surface on your neck before you navigate to your most recent voicemail. You flick on the speaker before staring into the green light of the screen.

“Where the fuck are you, you fucking bitch?” You flinch as an angry voice fills the room. “You think you can fucking run away from me? You think you can fucking end shit? You’ve got another thing coming to you, used up fucking slut. The next time I lay eyes on you you’re fucking dead, you hear me? Run the fuck away from me again and see what happens. I’ll-” You don’t give the voicemail a chance to run its course. With a raw, frustrated scream you launch the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a satisfying clatter. The battery and casing skitter across the floor and the voicemail cuts out abruptly. Not satisfied with just cutting the bastard off you stomp across the room, still screaming, and smash your foot into the body of the phone. It gives with a satisfying crunch and you roar as you kick it for good measure, sending the now useless device across the room once again. All the fear and rage of the last few hours overcomes you and you let yourself scream until you run out of breath.

Suddenly a flash of something yellow through the hallway window catches your eye. You push your hair out of your face as you try to catch your breath, attempting to squint through the aged plexi-glass. A hulking, inhuman figure stands on the other side of the window, seeming to peer back at you. For a moment neither of you move, it seems to be taking you in as much as you’re taking it in. The strange standoff breaks when the figure, still indistinct through the dust and cracks in the glass, starts to move slowly and methodically towards the staffroom door.

Finally your brain springs into action. Shit. Whatever that is, it’s not good. You sweep your eyes frantically around the room, weighing your options. Any windows to the outside are boarded up, and the only door in or out is the one the massive yellow figure is making its way towards. The only viable option seems to be to take the defensive. There’s a tiny kitchenette against the wall, and you rush towards it in desperation. Frantically, you yank open the drawers in search of anything you might use to protect yourself. The best you can come up with is a wooden spoon. In another situation that might be laughable, but you can’t take a moment to consider how absurd you look brandishing a wooden spoon like a sword. The rattle of the doorknob tells you that you’re out of time.

Whatever you had expected to be on the other side of that door it certainly wasn’t a massive yellow rabbit suit. It’s huge, so large that it has to duck to get its ears under the door frame. As it tilts its head to take you in, your blood runs cold. You hold your ground as the thing stalks closer, its movements slow and deliberate as it moves towards you.

In a moment of desperation you launch yourself forward, attempting to dodge around the looming figure and make a dash for freedom. You don’t have a chance. A pair of strong arms wrap roughly around your waist, jerking you back with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. Your makeshift weapon clatters to the floor. A dark chuckle rumbles from the depths of the suit as a hand drags its way from your waist and up your chest to grab your chin.

“What. Have. We. Here?” The voice that comes from the suit is deep, taunting, and undoubtedly mascuine. He punctuates the last word with a rough but controlled yank, pulling your chin up and your head back into his chest. You whimper as it strains your already aching neck. With your head tipped back you can see the yellow rabbit head looming above you and it tilts to the side again as if in curiosity. “I asked you a question.”

“I-I-...” You can barely get your mouth to move and you lick your lips in a desperate attempt to draw words from them. Your obvious fear draws a satisfied hum from the depths of the suit and the hand on your waist tightens noticeably. The hand on your jaw however, disappears. You pull in a shaky gasp and buck your head forward in an attempt to build up enough momentum to break free. The vice-like grip on your waist is unaffected and your captor grunts in amusement.

A rustling above your head draws your attention and you look up to realize that the hand that had just been holding your jaw captive is running along the neck of the suit. With a single, deft movement the head of the suit comes off and your captors face is revealed. There’s an almost rugged handsomeness to his mature features, graying stubble covering his cheeks and eyes that in another life may have looked almost kind. The expression he’s peering down at you with now is anything but kind or gentle though. There’s a hunger there, and a barely suppressed rage. He places the head on a nearby table and returns his hand to your jaw. With agonizing languidness he leans forward and presses his lips to your ear.

“Who gave you permission to sleep in my restaurant?”

You gasp as his stubble rasps against your jaw and his hot breath ghosts across your face.

“I’m sorry. I just needed a place to stay. I’ll leave right now. I’ll-”

He cuts you off. “A place to stay, huh?” His lips are still brushing against your ear and despite yourself you feel a chill run down your spine that has nothing to do with fear. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that absolute delight of a man on the other side of the phone, would it?”

“He’ll kill me.” As soon as the words come out of your mouth you know they’re true. Honestly, you’re lucky to have survived him this long.

“Oh, little mouse, what makes you think I won’t?” The grip on your jaw releases for a moment and you hear something fall to the floor. When it returns it’s a very warm, very human hand that takes its place. His other hand briefly lets go to do the same and you can feel his nails digging into your flesh as he presses you against him.

“Please.” It’s barely more than a whimper as the hand at your jaw dips to circle your neck. “I just needed somewhere safe.”

“And you chose here? Bad luck.” He presses his nose to your jaw and draws in a deep, ragged breath. “But you know, we might be able to work something out.” The hand at your waist begins to travel, burrowing its way under the hem of your shirt before splaying wide across your stomach. His long fingers barely brush the underside of your bra but you feel the heat of them as if there’s no fabric to separate you. “I’d hate to see a pretty thing like you put out in the cold.”

“Anything.”

–

William can barely contain himself. The feeling of your trembling body in his arms is oh so delicious and your intoxicating scent floods his nose, every breath sending a thrill through him. You’re so soft, so malleable, so utterly breakable. It’s brilliant.

Using one hand to keep you pinned against him he uses the other to work his way out of the suit with practiced skill. Initially he’d just wanted to watch you, figure out the enigma that was your survival after breaking into his restaurant. Normally people don’t last for more than a few minutes. But you’d dithered around, chatted up his ace in the hole, and then taken a nap? He couldn’t contain his curiosity.

The phone call had derailed his plan and given him an idea. Sure, he had planned on killing you once he’d solved your mystery but maybe there were other things you could be useful for. There was something captivating about you, and the perfect leverage had just fallen straight into his lap.

He makes quick work of the suit, and soon he’s reveling in the feeling of your body against his.

“Anything?” He asks, stroking his thumb gently over your jugular before giving your throat a controlled squeeze. Your startled gasp is almost enough to send him reeling. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little mouse.”

–

This is wrong. Everything about this situation is wrong.

And yet, your body seems to have some of its wires crossed because it is not getting the message. The only thing you should be feeling right now is fear, and sure, there’s a very healthy dose of that tying your guts in knots but beyond that there’s an underlying current of heat. None of what’s happening should be causing your core to tighten, and the goose bumps forming on your neck should be from terror.

But they’re not.

His hand drifts up even further, pushing your bra up and out of the way to capture the smooth skin of your breast in his hand. You can’t help it, you roll your hips back into his, pushing against the hardness that’s growing there at an almost alarming pace. He growls behind you, pulling you even closer to grind against your ass.

“So that’s how it is?” His voice in your ear is even deeper now, heavy with lust as he gives your breast a hard squeeze. Even you’re surprised when you let out a wanton moan. “Imagine such a dirty fucking slut falling right into my lap.” His words have you clenching around nothing and you don’t even have the presence of mind to feel conflicted about your body's reaction. He releases your breast and his hand burns a trail down to the top of your jeans, he flicks the button open with ease and slowly undoes your zipper. Then he stops, his hand ghosts over the crotch of your jeans before it stills. You let out a needy whimper that you barely recognize as your voice.

“Beg for it, little mouse.”

You groan, canting your hips forward in a desperate search for pressure. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

His control seems to snap and he spins you around before shoving you across the room and face down into the couch, barely giving you time to yelp in surprise. He pulls your hips into the air before yanking down your jeans and panties in one harsh motion. The animalistic groan that escapes him at the sight of your dripping pussy sends a shock of arousal through you. He grabs a globe of your ass in each hand, digging his fingers in so hard that you gasp. His nails bite in deep enough that you’re sure they’ll draw blood.

“God, look at you.” He grunts, releasing your ass and stepping back as if to admire the view. You hear the clinking of his belt buckle and wiggle in anticipation. “What a fucking freak you are, so fucking wet and ready for a strange man in an abandoned building.” He lifts his hand and lands a stinging blow on your ass. You flinch and yelp at the unexpected pain and he does it again on the other cheek. “Dirty slut.” The sting brings tears to your eyes, but it also causes your arousal to coil even tighter in your abdomen.

Suddenly and without warning he grabs your hips and slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. You scream as he stretches you, your channel burning around his thick cock. “Take it.” He grunts, slamming into you. All you can do is whimper in response as he sets a punishing pace, thrusting into you again and again. The burn eventually melts into a building and rising heat that threatens to sweep you away.

Your scalp stings as he tangles his fist in your hair and yanks your head back, changing the angle so that he drives impossibly deeper into you with every stroke. Any train of thought you may have been able to carry is lost as he bombards you with pleasure. Your eyes roll back as your hands desperately grip the couch cushions. A few more thrusts and you’re coming undone, screaming out your release. He follows close behind you, letting go of your hair to grab your hips again. His fingers bite into you as he pulls you back against him, trapping you to him as he fills you.

“Fuck.” He grunts, his voice raw and his hands trembling at your hips. You both still for a moment and your brain finally starts to realize what you’ve just done. But in the throbbing, warm throes of your afterglow you can’t seem to bring yourself to care how truly fucked up this situation is. When he finally releases his vice-like grip on your hips you groan at the loss of contact.

The chuckle that he gives is warmer than any of the others so far, and he gives your ass a final squeeze that you could almost consider affectionate before he steps away.

“Yes, I think we’ve come to a satisfying agreement.”

-----

I don't know what came over me last night, but this was the result. I've never written smut before, but I sure have read a lot so hopefully it's enjoyable.

#william afton is a pervy old man and that's how i like him #look im not here for the serial killer to be nice to me #william afton x reader #william afton x you #william afton smut #fnaf smut #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #william afton #matthew lillard #fanfic #fnaf fanfic #mochi writes

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