#that HE killed the very thing he built his life around and was just dragging it behind him like a corpse (Jean) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 2 months

Note

hi! can i request shy/innocent reader who blushes at any sex talk, but one day she shows up covered in hickies that she didn’t notice and eddie, robin and the gang are grilling her trying to find out who shes with and steve’s just standing in the corner like🧍‍♂️

ty for requesting :D — the gang finds a hickey on you during movie night (shy!fem!r, fluff, 1.3k)

Slasher films, Eddie tells you, are just excuses to make the goriest, raunchiest movies known to man. But that’s why they’re so good! he exclaims like a giddy teenage boy before sliding the bulky VHS into the tape player.

Your stomach’s been in knots about it since. You’re made of something more delicate than that — not particularly built for gruesome horror — but you swallow down your worrying anyway.

Robin’s smacking on gummy worms at your feet, Eddie hasn’t stopped smiling since he sat down beside you, and Steve’s got one toned arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder. The combination of familiarity takes your mind off the whole thing when you threaten to scare yourself about it.

A half-hour in, and the scariest thing you’ve seen so far, is an overtly theatric sex scene. You only get a glimpse of the static nudity before a clammy, ringed hand splays itself over your eyes. It doesn’t save you from the high-pitched squealing and gruff moans, though, so you’re not entirely sure it’s doing much.

“What are you doing?” you ask Eddie through quiet giggles.

“This shit’s gross,” he answers, muffled through the candy in his cheek. “You don’t need to be watchin’ stuff like this.”

Your brows furrow beneath his palm. “I’m not a child, Eds.”

“Yeah, but you’re too pure! I wouldn’t feel right if I just let you watch it!”

Steve returns from the kitchen then, with a bowl of refilled popcorn in hand. He scoops a handful into his mouth and scolds through the mouthful. “Eddie. Leave her alone.”

The pale hand slips from your face when the scene ends — the climax sufficiently interrupted by a serial killing, chainsaw weilding psycho. The wild-haired boy scoffs. “Jeez! Sorry for trying to take care of your girlfriend, Harrington!”

“I do that on my own. I don’t need your help, freak,” Steve retorts, unthinking, before plopping down beside you and shoveling another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

All three of you glance at him with unwavering stares. He blinks back at you for a moment until the realization hits him. Rolling his chocolate eyes, he grouses, “Not like that, you pervs.”

Eddie grins. “Oh, so it’s not like that, then?” he wonders in a teasing lilt.

“Well,” Steve shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “I mean, obviously it is, but—”

“Steve…” you waver in an inaudible whine, shrinking back into the couch, hoping it’ll swallow you whole.

The boy seems confused by your sudden sheepishness. He’s never been shy about anything in his life. “I’m just saying!” he chuckles. “I’m your boyfriend. I take care of you. That’s, like, my whole job… One that I do very well, might I add.”

Robin grumbles while Steve and Eddie laugh like a couple of teenage boys. She rises from her comfy spot on the carpet and reaches for your hand. She pulls you into the kitchen behind her and calls to them over her shoulder. “You guys are such freaks, you know that?”

——————

Tired and slightly tipsy, you stand with Steve on his back porch. A cigarette hangs loosely from his plush lips. His chiseled jaw tightens every time he takes a drag. The sight of him is impossible to look away from.

“You don’t think I take care of you?” he blurts before blowing smoke from his mouth. The wisps disappear beneath the starry velvet sky.

“Huh?”

“Earlier. When Eddie was making that stupid joke,” the boy explains, snuffing the cig out in the ashtray on the railing. He glances at you with sparkling honey eyes, half beneath his lashes, before turning away again. Almost shy. “I said it was my job to take care of you or whatever, and you just… Kinda grumbled about it. Like you don’t think I do or something.”

Your chest stings.

“Of course you do!” you answer sheepishly. “It’s just… hard for me to talk about, I guess. In front of Eddie and Robin and everything…”

“Oh,” he hums, nodding with his pink lips softly pouted. When the realization passes, he bites back a bashful beam. “So… you do think I take care of you, then?”

You roll your eyes, still impossibly shy. You know that he knows that answer now — he just wants to hear you say it. “Obviously…” you murmur with a quiet smile you try hard to keep hidden.

“Good,” he says to himself, nodding like he’s proud. “That’s good…”

You’re not sure how, but you end up squished between his body and the deck railing in record time. Steve kisses the breath from your lungs with lips tasting of nicotine, cola, and sour candy. His golden hands dig into your hips while his mouth trails to your jaw.

You twist your hands in the strands of his silky chestnut hair as his plush lips lock with your thrumming pulse. A sigh spills from your mouth at the tingling feeling — warm and wet, then stinging for a moment. Steve runs his tongue over the bruise he left there.

“Don’t leave a mark,” you scold in a slurred whine.

His chuckle fans across your neck before he parts from you. The lovebite is hardly noticeable now, just beginning to blossom beneath your jaw. “I think it might be a little too late for that, babe,” he teases with lidded eyes.

The backdoor slides open before Steve can kiss you again. Eddie stumbles out with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Robin nearly runs into the back of him when the boy stops suddenly in his tracks. His chocolate eyes flit between the two of you, now separated and trying to play it cool.

“…Are we interrupting something?” he murmurs through the stick in his mouth.

Steve shrugs and puts his hands on his hips, so not cool. “What? No. What are you— What are you even doing out here?”

The lighter clicks. “…Smoking?”

He glances at Robin, then. Her ocean eyes widen as she shrugs. “I just didn’t wanna be left out,” she murmurs in an answer to his silent question.

“Fair enough.”

Eddie squeezes between you and Steve, clumsy and unknowing. He glances at you innocently once, then again with suspicious, squinted eyes. “Is that a bruise?” he wonders before turning away to exhale the smoke from his lungs.

Your chest wrenches. “Huh?” you hum with pinched brows.

“You have a bruise on your neck,” he tells you, pointing a ringed finger to the blooming mark Steve left some minutes ago now. “What happened?”

He says it like he’s concerned. Like he’s worried something had happened to you. The possibility of it being a hickey doesn’t even cross his mind — ‘cause you’re just too pure for that.

You shrug and start to stammer, somehow less cool than the overtly uncasual boy on Eddie’s other side. “I don’t know. It’s probably just... The lighting or something.”

His fluffy brows pinch together as his eyes dart over your face. You’re visibly flustered, lips softly swollen and shining with spit. He looks at Steve next and finds the boy looking much of the same. Only then does he realize what he’s interrupted.

“Eugh!” he groans in disgust, features screwed-up and puppylike.

Steve fights back a laugh. “What?!”

“You guys are a bunch of dirtbags!” Eddie shouts.

“It’s just a hickey, Eds,” the brunette boy says, chuckling before he can help it. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

“Absolutely harlot behavior. Both of you,” he chides, shaking his head until his wild curls sway around his jaw. While the rest of you laugh, he grumbles. “I don’t even feel like smoking now. You guys just ruined this cig for me.”

The three of you blink at him when he takes another drag. It takes him a moment too long to register the stares. When he does, he spreads his palms in defense and mumbles through the stick. “Well, I’m not gonna waste it!”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

2K notes · View notes

bornonthesavage · 1 year

Text

Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In Part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Eddie Munson was having a crisis. No, maybe that was too strong a word. This was just a minor existential examination of everything he’d ever known. Because up until today, it had been a known truth of the universe that all jocks were irredeemable assholes whose sole purpose in life was to make Eddies worse. And for the most part, that was still what he believed. Except, now there was big, glaring dent in this truth. A big, glaring dent in the form of Steve Harrington.

When he’d looked up and seen that stupid, handsome face, he’d immediately known he was about to have a bad time. Would probably have his papers stomped on, maybe a few books ripped. So one can forgive Eddie his momentary lack of brain function when Steve actually got down and started to help. And then he apologized. Like, actually apologized. And he seemed sincere. Which had completely knocked the wind out of Eddie’s sails. He’d been so prepared to say something scathing, to mock him and then hightail it out of there before he got his ass kicked.

But then, to make it worse, Steve knew about Dungeons and Dragons. And he babysat. He babysat nerdy kids who played Dungeons and Dragons, and he offered that information up like it was nothing. Like it didn’t rock Eddie to his very fucking core. And then, of course, he delivered the killing blow in the form of a genuine smile. Like he was made of fucking sunshine.

Goddamn it. Eddie had done such a good job at keeping his horrible, ill-advised crushes on straight boys under control. Because sure, he’d looked at Steve before. It was impossible not to, when he looked like freaking Apollo, all golden tanned and built like a dream. Being that Eddie was the only queer guy he knew of in Hawkins, it wasn’t like he had any choice but to have crushes on straight guys. Pickings were slim, and Eddie was starving.

So yes, he’d snuck a look at Steve in the past. Either in the halls, or as he jogged around the track field, or on one memorable occasion when he’d accidentally stumbled into a swim meet and caught an eyeful of tight little swim trunks. But that was fine. Looking was fine.

Only, now he’d talked to him. And Steve was no longer just a hot, mean jock. Because he hadn’t seemed mean at all. He’d seemed pretty nice, actually. Maybe that was what happened, when a person lost everything that had once made them what they were. Now, Steve had to reinvent what he was. Well, if that was the case, he was off to a pretty good start. Maybe Eddie could give him a few pointers. Take him under his wing. Maybe Steve would---

No. No! He was not going to go down that rabbit hole. That was dangerous. What he needed to do was stay far away from Steve Harrington. That pretty boy was nothing but trouble, and Eddie had more than enough of that in his life as it was.

He dragged his pillow up and pressed it over his face before screaming into it. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t actually be this weak. One nice smile sent his way, and he was ready to drop all his carefully crafted walls. It was pathetic.

Eddie rolled off his bed and climbed to his feet. This was fine. It wasn’t like Steve was ever going to talk to him again. Today had been a total fluke. From now on he could go back to sneaking glances across crowded rooms. So really, there was no need to dwell on this. He repeated that sentiment as he made his way out of his room and to the kitchen, where he proceeded to make the worlds loudest bowl of cereal. And the thing was, he didn’t even realize how hard he was slamming the cabinets until Wayne looked up from the tv.

“Eds, what on Gods green earth has gotten you so worked up?”

He huffed. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Wayne gave him a look. “Now I know that ain’t true. The only time you slam shit is when you’ve gotten yourself all worked up about something. So, spill.”

Eddie growled and shoved the milk roughly back into the fridge. “It’s just… Gah!” He scooped up a too big bite of cereal and shoveled into his mouth. “Stupid boys! And their stupid smiles!”

Wayne, of course, knew about Eddie. Had know for years. But they didn’t talk about it. Not beyond the initial talk they’d had, when Wayne had assured him that he would love and support Eddie no matter what. And then, after that, the very awkward and horrible discussion about safe sex. Which wasn’t an issue for Eddie, considering he was a virgin.

“Well,” Wayne said slowly. “I can’t say I relate. But, yeah. I understand the sentiment.”

Eddie shook his head and glared into his bowl. “He thinks he can just smile at me, and I’ll forget about what a douche bag he was.”

Wayne hummed. “No, you don’t want to be getting mixed up with that sort.”

“Exactly!” Eddie cried, pointing his spoon at his uncle. “Exactly.”

Without another word, he turned and scampered back into his room. Once he was safely tucked into his cocoon of blankets, he let himself ruminate on the problem of Steve. Because really, what sort of name was that. Steve. Just a boring old name. The kind of name Eddie imagined a mailman to have.

Steve could be a mailman, if he wanted to. He’d look good, in those khaki shorts. Eddie could picture him, biceps bulging as he hefted a large package to Eddie’s door. Maybe he’d be hot and would need to come inside to cool down. And once inside, maybe he’d feel the need to deliver a different sort of package… No! Shit, no no no.

Eddie clamped his teeth down on his spoon hard enough to hurt. This was ridiculous. Harrington didn’t deserve a starring role in his fantasies. It wasn’t like he’d done anything great. So what, he’d picked up a few papers. Big deal. No, it was imperative that Eddie put Steve out of his mind completely.

That became an issue the very next day. Eddie was situated at the head of the lunch table, just like always. His pack of merry freaks lined the table, already talking over each other about one thing or another. Gareth and Jeff had their head bowed together, discussing something to do with D&D. Josie and Mic were arguing over something that had happened in history class, while Grant and Todd discussed a movie they’d gone to see over the past weekend. Eddie grinned as he observed his friends. This was his domain, and there was peace.

At least there was, until out of the corner of his eyes, Eddie spotted an approaching enemy. And okay, maybe it was a bit much to call Steve an enemy. Before yesterday, sure. But now… Steve was an anomaly. An anomaly that was rapidly approaching their table with a tray in hand. Eddie sat frozen, his eyes wide, all the way up until Steve stopped beside him. The rest of the table seemed to have noticed him as well, as they’d fallen silent. Steve smiled down at Eddie as if he weren’t doing the strangest thing that had ever happened at Hawkins High.

“Hey Eddie, what’s up?”

He could physically feel his brain reeling, searching in his files for what the appropriate response to this situation was. All he could come up with was a garbled “Wha?”

Steve didn’t seem phased. “I said, what’s up? How’re you doing?”’

Eddie blinked rapidly. “Uh, yeah man. I’m fine. Did you… need something?”

“Oh, actually.” Steve reached around into his back pocket and pulled out a folded black square of cloth. A very familiar one, at that. He’d honestly thought he’d lost it. But to see it now, held out in Steve Harrington’s hand, was almost too much. Eddie choked.

“You dropped this yesterday, and I wanted to give it back. Wasn’t sure if it had any significant meaning to you.”

Yeah, you could say that. Eddie reached out slowly, almost afraid Steve was about to rip his hand away and call him out. Tell the whole school what a black hanky meant, and what that made Eddie. But that didn’t happen. Steve allowed the cloth to slip through his fingers, all the while wearing that same casual grin.

“Oh, um. Thanks dude.”

“It’s no problem,” Steve said with a shrug.

Eddie expected him to leave, now that he’d done his daily good deed or whatever. But he didn’t. Steve continued to stand beside him, looking infuriatingly normal. As if this wasn’t so, so weird. Then, to make matters even more bizarre, he turned his smile on the rest of the table.

“Hey guys.”

It took monumental effort, but Eddie finally managed to drag his eyes away from Steve and back to his friends. It was actually pretty funny, the way they all wore matching expression of astoundment and confusion. Their faces looked the way Eddie felt on the inside. Nobody gave a response. When Steve still didn’t leave, Eddie cleared his throat.

“Uh, was there something else you needed?”

Steve’s expression shifted then, turning almost bashful. Eddie despised how cute he found it. “Actually, yeah. I was sort of wondering if I could sit with you?”

The silence that rang, following that statement, was loud. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could see his friends begin to shift with distrust. Because yeah, this was really bizarre. At least Eddie had some context, given their encounter yesterday. But had Steve really fallen so low, so desperate for friends, that he was willing to slum it with the freaks?

The awkwardness seemed to finally catch up with Steve, as he began to ramble. “It’s just, I was late to the cafeteria, so my usual table is taken. And, I mean, I guess I could go eat outside or in the library, but that seems like a level of lame I’d rather not fall to. So I saw you, and remembered I had to return your bandana. And then I saw you had extra chairs and figured I’d ask. But if not it’s fine, I can go—”

“No!”

Eddie wanted to clamp a hand over his own stupid mouth. Did he have to sound so loud and eager? Fuck, he really was pathetic. But at least Steve wasn’t much better, with the way he was staring down at Eddie with those big, brown eyes.

“I just mean, no, it’s fine. You can sit with us.” Eddie explained. His shin received a hard kick from under the table, but he ignored it. “If his highness wishes to dine with the peasants, who am I to deny him?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I already told you, I’m not a king anymore.”

“Ah!” Eddie cried, leaping to his feet. “A fallen heir. How tragic. Well, I always have room in my court for a weary traveler.”

What the fuck was he doing? He should be telling Steve to go away, to leave them alone. There was no way this was going to be a good thing for his newfound straight boy crush. And yet his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, that filthy traitor. And it was worse, when Steve lit up like Eddie had just told him today was second Christmas. Because oh no. Now Eddie wanted to see that again. He wanted to please Steve Harrington.

“Oh, cool. Thanks. I can sit down at the end, if you want.”

Yeah, that would be good. Put some distance between them. Of course, his stupid fucking mouth had other ideas. “No, it’s fine. Just pull a chair up next to me.”

Fuck! That wasn’t what he’d meant to say! God dammit. But it was too late, because Steve was already beaming like a kid at Disneyland. Eddie watched as he set his tray down, then walked to a nearby table and stole a chair to drag over. He shot a panicked glance at his friends, and found that they were all looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Gareth’s face very clearly said “What the hell are you doing?” Eddie sent him a desperate shrug.

Steve plopped down right beside Eddie. Which was so stupid, because there definitely wasn’t enough room at the head of the table for two people. It forced them to sit practically pressed against each other, with Steve’s warm thigh lining up perfectly with Eddie’s leg. Steve didn’t even seem to notice. He just cast a guileless smile around to the rest of the gang.

“So, what’s up?”

Based on all the blank faces, that seemed to be what everyone else was thinking. Jeff was the first that seemed to recover, as he cast a look between Steve and Eddie. “Uh, yeah, we’re kind of wondering the same thing.”

Steve ripped open a bag of chips and threw a few into his mouth. “Oh, shit, sorry. Did Eddie not tell you? We sort of started talking yesterday when I accidentally ran into him. We shared some minor bonding over my slight knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons, so we’re pretty much friends now.”

They were? What the fuck? This was news to him! The rest of the group was looking at Eddie now though, and he was really not prepared to unpack all this with an audience. He waved his hands.

“All of you, as you were. Stop gawking like heathens, just because we have a bit of fresh meat at the table.”

There were several shouts of indignation, but Eddie silenced them with a look. They would discuss this later, but not here. It wasn’t like Eddie was opposed to making a scene. Oh no, he engaged in a good bit of table theater at least once per week. But in this instance, he had no idea what to make of this new development. It was unnerving, and Eddie needed time to poke at it before he made any moves. Surely Steve had some ulterior motives. Whatever they were, Eddie would find them.

Reluctantly, the rest of the group went back to their conversations. Which left Eddie with Steve, who was looking at him with an amused curl to his mouth.

“What?”

“That was pretty impressive.”

“What was?”

Steve rolled his eyes. What a bitch. “How you got them all to listen to you. I could use a few pointers. Maybe then I could get the middle schoolers I look after to actually do what I say for once.”

Eddie grinned wide, showing off all his teeth. “It’s all in the presentation, Stevie boy. If you hold yourself like you’re the one in charge, everyone else will listen.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Steve said, chewing slowly. “That’s kind of what I used to do. It works better on people our age, though. Middle schoolers can see through an act like nobody’s business.”

“Well then, Stevie boy, make sure it’s not an act.”

Steve huffed. “That’s easier said than done. Especially when I have no clue what I’m doing most of the time. Fake it till you make it only works when you have at least a tiny bit of a plan. I’m just out here wandering through the dark.”

Well shit, that sounded awfully close to vulnerability. “Careful, Steve, you don’t want to go around admitting that sort of thing where predators might hear you.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow up. “What, like you?”

Huh. Nobody, ever, in their right mind had referred to Eddie as a predator. No, he figured he belonged somewhere in the small mammal category. Like a gopher, or maybe a mink. You could probably make a real nice fur coat out of him.

“Buddy boy, out of the two of us, I think you fall more in line with the predators.”

Steve hummed and popped a grape into his mouth. Eddie watched, transfixed, as Steve rolled the fruit around in his mouth. First to one cheek, then the other, before letting it pop back to the front of his teeth. What the fuck? Just eat the damn thing!

“I feel like I’m more of a golden retriever,” he eventually said. “Does that count as a predator?”

Eddie snorted. “No, it doesn’t. But I’m not so sure about a golden retriever. You’re too bitchy for that. Maybe a different breed.”

“And which breed would that be?” Steve asked, tilting his head.

“Don’t know. Can’t say I know you all that well.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, as though considering. “That’s fair. Tell you what, once we hang out a little more, you let me know which breed of dog you think I am. Okay?”

Eddie knew he should object, tell him to go find someone else to bother. But he was, in fact, a weak, weak man. And here Steve Harrington was, saying he wanted to hang out. And he was supposed to, what? Tell him no? Have restraint? Self-respect? It was overrated. Especially when compared with the opportunity to sit in the presence of a very pretty boy. So, Eddie found himself nodding his head, meeting Steve’s eye.

“Alright Harrington. You’ve got a deal.”

Read and follow along on AO3

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #these boys don't know what they've gotten themselves into

1K notes · View notes

talaok · 5 months

Text

Hot teach

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: you force Joel to go ice-skating

Warnings: none I think, just Joel being a touchy menace

A/n: I'm not gonna lie, I wrote this mostly for myself cause I went icekating today and a girl is obsessed and I couldn't help but wonder how it would have been with my man. also i do be a lil bit tipsy so forgive me if this isn't really all that great, i just wanted to write something cute to daydream about when im falling asleep

"oh c'mon babe you're not even trying!" you laughed, watching as he gripped the banister for dear life

"I am, trust me I am, this thing it's just hard" he grunted, almost falling in the process of trying to look at you

"Joel Miller" you stated, moving so you were in front of him "You've done harder things in your life" you said, raising an eyebrow, "now c'mon, take my hands and get away from there"

He sighed, looking down at those deathly ice skates attached to his feet

"darlin' if I die 'cause of this I'll be real mad"

"you won't die" you chuckled, holding out your hands for him "now c'mon, hold onto me"

And with great difficulty, and very very slowly, he managed to do it, he was finally away from the edge of the skate rink.

"there, see, wasn't that hard"

"I wouldn't say that exactly"

"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Now just like I taught you: bend your knees, then lift one foot, and try to gly"

You watched as he just stood there, looking at you uncertainly

"I'll be here the whole time, I won't let go" you promised, trying to calm his nerves

"sweetheart I don't know if I'm cut out for this type of stuff"

You smiled, reducing the distance between you

"You can do it, baby" you murmured, kissing his cheek "Just give it a try, trust me"

And so he did, almost falling, but he did nonetheless.

"there" you grinned "that was good"

"you ain't gotta lie now doll" he shook his head "Those kids over there are doing better than me" he joked, his eyes going to a group of 10-year-olds to your right

You couldn't help but laugh

"I meant for the first try" you explained "You just need a little practice"

That's how the next half hour passed: practicing.

He kept holding onto you as you skated backward to follow his movements while he moved towards you, and with time, he was even able to skate by your side, his hand still in yours and at a speed slower than a turtle's, but still, it was definitely an improvement.

Convincing him to go ice skating with you hadn't been an easy task, but (as always) you had done it. I mean, it was almost Christmas and they had built a big ice skating ring so close to your house, what else were you supposed to do but drag him to it?

"you're basically a professional" You smiled as you took a break, holding on to the edge of the rink

"absolutely" he laughed "I'm sure that kid I almost killed while falling would also agree"

"Oh yes" you giggled "I'm sure he would"

A moment passed, as you let the sound of laughter and Christmas music flow into your ears

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he murmured, his hand now holding your waist and making you face him

"where's that coming from?" you smiled, raising your hand to fix his hair, just for it to fall to his shoulder

"I've been thinking it all day, I was just a little preoccupied before"

"is that right?"

"sure is" he smirked, the distance between you now completely gone "You're hot when you teach me stuff, y'know?"

You laughed "Oh yeah?"

"yeah" he breathed, ghosting his lips "I've got the most gorgeous teacher in the world," he said, a moment before kissing you, like really kissing you, like it didn't matter that people and kids were all around you type of kiss.

You whimpered into his mouth as his hands traveled lower to find your ass through your jeans.

"I know what you're doing mister" you purred, leaving a quick kiss on his lips again

"oh yeah and what's that?" he asked, not giving you time to answer before he was devouring you again, his tongue exploring your mouth ever so heavenly

"I'm sorry to break it to you Miller, but you aren't gerring out of this so easily" you smiled, crushing all his hopes "We've paid for another hour, and I'm not letting it go to waste"

"sugar c'm-"

"don't even try baby" You shook your head, leaving a soft kiss on his reddened nose "you still have a lot of practice to do" you smirked, "but hey at least you've got a hot teach"

349 notes · View notes

loviestyless · 4 days

Text

Shadowed Starlight*

Summary: Odile Einar has one purpose: kill the fae king and prevent the prophecy from coming true. the only thing that stands in her way is their deep rooted history.

fantasy au! king harry x assassin oc

Warnings: murder, violence, blood, smut: dom!harry, thigh riding, choking, praise kink, breeding kink

The shrill echo of a sharpened sword dragging against concrete announced the arrival of the lone warrior, stirring the ripples of shadows curling through the throne room and fuelling the whispers of terror warning her not to venture further. Night followed in her wake as her bloodied weapon etched stars in the dark, marbled floor of the building built off nightmares, the very essence of her power rolling off her body as rage coursed through her bloodstream at the sight of the figure sat atop his throne. Waiting.

Dark stories of the High Fae surrounded the golden throne, the ornate and intricate paintings shone through the shadows - depicting the cruel suffering his ancestors had inflicted upon the unfortunate common folk of Eroda. Every war, every rebellion and every battle for power the royal bloodline had successfully won filled all four walls of the gigantic room - embellished with gold to serve as a reminder to the unfortunate souls unlucky enough to kneel before the king that they never stood a chance.

The Fae King draped himself casually atop the ancient throne, his shadows humming through the walls, clawing at their invisible shackles in an attempt to strangle the woman for approaching the King so brazenly. But he remained unbothered, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as his emerald eyes soaked in her appearance. Everything about his demeanour was the least bit regal, as if he was merely a young prince playing up to a title, he would one day inherit, even his crown lay crooked atop his mess of curls. He maintained slouched against the throne while she approached, almost as if it burdened him to be cursed with such beauty his entire immortal life and the warrior scoffed at such petty vanity the King harboured.

But despite such a relaxed demeanour, the woman knew of the horrors that lay behind those gorgeous green eyes. This man was lethal, his shadows alone could smother the entire room in seconds, killing her instantly if she let her starlight dim under his watch.

Sweat and blood smeared across her dark skin, twinkling like stars as the rows of candles flickered in the breeze that swept through the building upon her entrance. Every slow, confident step forward made it harder for her to keep control of her power, tendrils of night eager to land a lethal strike.

"My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." He purred, his sharp gaze dragging down her body to take in her blood-soaked armour with amusement. Swirls of shadows snaked their ways around his forearms, summoned silently by the King as a reminder of his potential power and to intimidate the Fae assassin refusing to bow at his feet.

It had been years since she had seen his face and as much as she hated to admit it, he still looked just as beautiful as when she'd left. His thick curls were shorter, no longer dusting the tops of his shoulders but sat messily atop his head in a way that emphasised his sharp jawline. Her brown eyes flared with specs of starlight as she forced herself not to succumb to his beauty - it was how she'd gotten tangled up in this mess in the first place and she couldn't afford to let him charm her again. Not when the fate of the entire kingdom rested upon her shoulders.

The shadow's whispers seemed to fall silent while the King taunted the warrior, waiting with bated breath for her to react to his cunning words.

"The little assassin returns." Harry mused softly. His legs swung over the arm of the chair so that he swivelled around to sit properly, his knees parted as he leaned forward with a sinister smirk. "I must admit, twenty years to seek out an oracle is a little excessive, is it not Odile?"

Every sentence that rolled off his tongue was meticulously planned, specifically chosen to tempt her into giving in to the rage he could see flowing through her bloodstream. The assassin felt her grip tighten around the handle of her weapon, a deep breath rattling her chest as she refused to let him affect her. The King chuckled lowly, emerald eyes darkening slightly they flickered over her body once more.

"And no babe in your arms, either." He mocked, shaking his head condescendingly as he stared at Odile's tense form, "What a wasted journey."

Odile fought the urge to stiffen at the reminder of the past, of her old self who was so foolishly naive and trusting in the Fae King that she wandered blindly into the forest twenty years ago seeking confirmation of a life she thought she wanted. But the answers she found were not what she expected. And judging by Harry's proud smirk, he too knew the prophecy that was handed to her instead - one that had changed her forever.

No longer was she a shy, timid woman that remained blindsided by the true extent of the King's powers. She was Eroda's assassin and she was here to kill the treacherous bastard that had reigned for far too long.

"Look at you, burning with rage." A deep chuckle rumbled in Harry's chest, only making Odile's power ripple with anger. Tendrils of night rolled off her body, inching their way closer to the throne where speckled starlight waited to strike the King's shadows. "I think I like this new you, it's more...enticing."

Honeyed words dripped off his tongue and Odile had to force herself to keep her eyes locked on his, resisting the urge to glance down at her feet under his intense glare. He knew exactly the right thing to say to charm people, to get them on his side and that was the exact reason she was in this position in the first place. But she refused to fall for it any longer, he was a brutal murderer and she wouldn't let him continue the vicious cycle for centuries to come. The prophecy would end here today. By her hand.

The Kingdom of Eroda shall fall by the hands of darkness if not stopped by the light. Centuries of bloodshed and corruption will end when stars and shadows join once more and create shadowed starlight. The palace will stand tall among the ashes, ready to rebuild a world that was lost to evil- a world where the stars will shine anew.

"You deserve to die for what you've done." Odile's voice was steady and confident, revenge dominating every inch of her body and making her eyes darken with deadly intent.

"What I've done?" Harry snickered lightly, no sense of remorse at all. "I think we should start with what you've done, darling."

The ripples of shadows swirling around his hands slowly drifted towards her, snaking their way around her feet and up her legs as the King took in her bloodied appearance. Crimson soaked her leather armour, splashed across her skin and drenched her locs but not a single drop of it was hers. Odile was untouched, unharmed and standing tense as the shadows settled around her neck - the ghost of Harry's touch taunting her with the possibility of what he could do.

A chill ran down her spine as her breath caught in her throat at the feeling of his power calling to hers, her inner starlight singing to the shadows and threatening to give in to him once more. She had felt these shadows brush against her skin many times before, but she refused to give in to their touch - not when the prophecy rang clear in her mind.

"Your governors are dead by my hand. They serve Hel now." She announced coldly, allowing her eyes to flare white with starlight so the King could see the threat she posed to his position on the throne - reminding him she was no longer the timid woman he knew twenty years ago. She felt his shadows squirm slightly as her power surged but the King remained relaxed. "You are next to join them."

"Well, you have been busy, haven't you?" He mused, sitting up straight in his throne and finally taking this seriously. It appeared the threat on his life was something to worry about.

No doubt he had heard whispers of the assassin rampaging through his lands the past two decades, training in the woods for the mission of a lifetime before hunting down every corrupt government official that served under the King. All of them were attacked when they least expected, brutally murdered and their bodies hung outside their houses as a warning to those that remained.

No longer would the poor be squeezed for every piece of copper they owned, no longer would the King's guards turn a blind eye to crime and no longer would the black-market fuel the underworld of illegal drugs and fighting rings. Eroda could go back to being the beautiful land, enriched with magic and beauty like the history books had once reported to the world.

All that was left was for the King to fall and the prophecy would be changed.

"I applaud you for your success, my darling. But I must address the little fault in your plan."

"If you intend to beg for your life then you underestimate my power." Odile's hand gripped the leather handle of her sword and carried a certain lightness in her feet as she prepared herself for the attack. Her best bet was to keep him talking, his ego was his downfall and all Odile had to do was catch him when his guard was down.

She was going to slit his throat where he sat and sit on the throne soaked with his blood as the Queen of Eroda - ready to rebuild the kingdom to its former glory.

"Not at all, Odile. I have always known what power you possess; you were just too blind to see it." His words were cocky, full of confidence that he shouldn't have in such a moment before his death. For many, it would be unnerving but for Odile it only made her all the more determined. "I simply intend to ask how you think the prophecy will play out when you kill your mate."

Odile felt her heart lurch at the reminder that the beautiful man in front of her was in fact her mate, the person fate decided was her other-half for all eternity - the person that completed her soul. When she had first met him twenty years ago, their bond snapped into place the moment their eyes locked and everything in her life seemed to fall into place. She was given a purpose, a lover and someone that mirrored her level of devotion.

Her love had blinded her from seeing what a despicable man Harry truly was, that was until the Oracle allowed her to see what she had been oblivious to the entire time. The bond still hummed within her, urging her to embrace his love after such time apart. The pining had almost driven her mad at first, unable to block out her power calling out to him at all hours of the day. Her magic needed him and his shadows needed hers. It would bring such pain to her heart to live on while her mate was killed - their bonded souls torn apart for the rest of eternity.

"You may be my mate and my husband, but I reject anything that binds me to such a cold-hearted leader as you. I would live with such pain knowing I had saved thousands from your blighted power."

Suddenly, bright starlight flooded the throne room, Odile's light bouncing off the golden accents of the entire room and blinding the King in an instant. His shadows recoiled with a hiss, leaving Harry unprotected long enough for the assassin to spring into action. One minute she was standing tall in front of the throne, the next she was straddling her mate's lap, pinning his shoulders against the back of the throne with the bloodied blade of her weapon digging uncomfortably into his neck.

Stars melted around them, revealing the rage filled warrior to the King so he could truly see her now. Honey brown eyes had darkened with anger, tendrils of night snaked up Harry's arms and pinned him in place so he could do little to overpower her.

Blood smeared against the King's face as Odile's left hand gripped his jaw, bringing her face so close to his that their lips almost touched.

Harry's pink lips curled upwards at the closeness of his wife, the twenty years of silent pining for her return finally silenced under her touch. Albeit because she was holding a sword to his throat and threatening his life. But he wasn't worried, he knew she still loved him dearly and had felt the same hollowness in her heart while she was away.

"I am not the man you think I am."

"It is your shadows the prophecy speaks of; you are the dark hands that have tainted this kingdom with corruption." She spat, starlight fizzling off her body and landing in sparks on the floor around her. Harry's eyes drifted down to glance at her lips before meeting her intense stare once again - he'd be lying if he said this new side to her wasn't turning him on.

"You are my lover and with your death Eroda will finally be free."

"I have protected this kingdom for five-hundred years, darling. You truly haven't worked it out yet, have you? We're supposed to save Eroda together. Why do you think I sent you out to the Oracle that day?"

No matter how much she tried to hide her confusion at her mate's words, there was little she could do to suppress the frown that tugged at her brows.

Harry had not sent her to seek out an Oracle, she had done that herself. She had thought she was pregnant and went to ask for confirmation that she was carrying the future heir to Eroda's throne. Secrecy was key if she truly was with child, the last thing she wanted was for rival kingdoms finding out and putting her and her baby's lives in danger. Odile hadn't even mentioned anything to her maid before she slipped out of the palace under the cover of darkness - how Harry had found out she had no idea.

"I never told you I thought I might be pregnant. You didn't send me anywhere."

"You think those books about royal bloodlines just appeared on my nightstand out of nowhere? You think the fact you overheard the royal reports about an Oracle causing havoc in the forest was a coincidence?" Harry's demeanour shifted for the first time since Odile had returned, no longer teasing her but completely serious. "I planted that idea into your head, Odile. I knew what the Oracle would tell you and I needed you to hear it. Because you held the power to save Eroda."

Harry shifted slightly under Odile's thighs, straining against her power and glancing down at the sword pressed against his neck uncomfortably.

"Darling, you already saved us. The darkness has been eradicated." Harry explained softly, making Odile's restraints falter long enough for him to free his hands, his warm touch ghosting her thighs as he rubbed them slowly. "Please, put the sword down.

"Y-you're the darkness. You rule over the kingdom, it's your fault corruption has plagued these lands. This room itself lays testament to the centuries of pain you and your family have inflicted on people."

"Odile, I've always wanted to be different from my ancestors, it sickens me to be surrounded by the monstrosities they carried out under my family name. I have dreamt of a kingdom that was filled with magic and laughter since I was a boy but that was not the plan of my father. He changed the laws of the council so I would not influence their decisions over my people, I became a King by title but with no power." Harry's voice carried a sense of vulnerability within it that Odile had only ever heard when she was with him. To others he maintained an air of arrogance within himself but with her, he was completely different. "I sought out the Oracle two hundred years ago, hoping for a way to save Eroda and that is when I learnt of the prophecy. Of you."

Odile's mind was reeling. She had spent twenty years with only the words that the Oracle had told her to understand the gravity of the situation thrust upon her. She had asked for an explanation, some kind of guidance but little was given outside the prophecy recounted throughout history. Hate had been forced to fester in her heart towards her husband - her mate - and that kind of pain was almost impossible to cope with.

"How can I believe you?"

Harry's lips twitched upwards slightly with a coy smirk, his eyes darkening in the way Odile recognised far too well. His touch grew stronger against her thighs, trailing closer to the place he knew she wanted him but was too stubborn to admit. He could sense her arousal from the moment she'd straddled his lap, no doubt fighting the memories of being in such a position countless times before.

"Because you're my mate and I know in your heart you feel this is right." Harry whispered lowly, leaning in slightly so that his lips ghosted against hers. The sharp blade of her sword dug harder into his skin, no doubt leaving a mark but he didn't care, not when he finally got to touch his mate after pining for her these past twenty years.

Odile gasped slightly in surprise as his lips finally met hers, warmth flooding through her body as she let her husband kiss her with as much love as he physically could. Their lips moved in sync together, the blade at Harry's throat slipping slightly as Odile let her focus drift to how perfect this moment felt. Her heart was thumping erratically in her chest, finally at peace after being torn apart by such distance for so long.

Misted shadows curled around the pair, ghosting touches along Odile's soft neck in a way that made her moan in anticipation while Harry's palms continued to tease the tops of her thighs, occasionally brushing her warm arousal over the top of her fighting leathers. Gods, she'd missed this. No matter how much she'd tried to hate him the last twenty years, she'd always drift into the land of dreams where his touch would be waiting for her. She'd dream of riding his cock once more, hearing his grunts of pleasure ring into the night as she pleasured herself until years of pining was eventually satisfied.

"Look at you, giving in so easily. I knew you'd see sense." Lustful amusement hung off every word that escaped Harry's lips. "Let me fuck you, baby. Ride my cock and claim your throne."

And then it suddenly hit Odile - this was what the prophecy had spoken of this entire time.

The Kingdom of Eroda shall fall by the hands of darkness if not stopped by the light.

She had been the one to murder the corrupt governors and her starlight had sung her victory every time. Nobody was left to rule over the kingdom and so the laws were now irrelevant, all power was now reinstated to the crown. Harry was free to be the ruler that Eroda had desperately needed for thousands of years.

Centuries of bloodshed and corruption will end when stars and shadows join once more and create shadowed starlight.

Odile had previously thought it meant the final death must be Harry's, a final test to eradicate the plague of shadows over the kingdom before she could build Eroda from scratch. But with how things were currently playing out, it appeared to be referencing the passions of reunited lovers, perhaps about to conceive the first heir to the new world she had secured for the future.

The palace will stand tall among the ashes, ready to rebuild a world that was lost to evil- a world where the stars will shine anew.

The loud clatter of metal against marble echoed about the throne room as the weapon finally tumbled from Odile's grasp to rest at the foot of the throne. Harry groaned in relief, rolling his head back slightly to stretch his neck out now he was no longer restricted, the harsh red mark of the blade standing prominent against his skin. Odile's hands cupped her lover's cheeks, smashing her lips into his as she ground her hips into his with a breathy moan as she gave in to her desire.

This was what she wanted, just her and Harry reunited once more and ready to rule Eroda by each other's side.

"Make me your Queen, Harry." She panted breathlessly, barely pulling apart from the King as she spoke her final demand. "Knock me up, give yourself an heir."

Harry's eyes darkened as his powers rumbled with desire, a lustful smirk appearing on his lips as he took in Odile's demands - his mind running rampant with all the possible ways to pleasure his mate after so long apart. He'd dreamed of the day he'd once more feel her wet cunt around his heavy cock, gorgeous tits bouncing in his face while her screams of pleasures rang out through the entire palace.

"You gonna be my good girl, yeah?" He breathed out, hands already trailing upwards to claim her body as his. Brushing her long, bloodied locs over her shoulder, Harry's lips met the exposed skin of her neck, sucking gently as his palms squeezed her heavy breasts. Odile squirmed in his lap in desperate need of some friction against her aching core, revelling in the feeling of her mate's hard cock brushing against her cunt through the layers of clothing in the way. "Bet you're dripping for me, aren't you?"

Odile whimpered at Harry's voice so deep and oozing with seduction, frantically nodding in agreement as she felt his hand slip down the waistband of her leather pants to confirm what he already knew. A soft hum of satisfaction vibrated against her skin as Harry continued to mark up her neck, his fingers toying with her wet folds while Odile was rendered breathless with desire. Speckled starlight flickered from her fingers as she tugged at her husband's curls, head tipping back slightly as she allowed him to take his claim over her body.

Her mind was a blur, uncontrollable whimpers escaped her lips as she rocked against Harry's fingers - chasing the pleasure that was already building in her core.

"Undress, Odile." The King's demand was clear, his fingers quickly removed from Odile's trousers as he pulled back to watch her carefully. The assassin let out a frustrated groan as the building wave subsided, her fingers desperately tearing at her leathers to obey her husband's instructions. The quicker she acted, the better behaved she was, the sooner she'd get to ride his cock. "Need you naked on my lap."

The moment her top hit the floor, Harry's eyes flicked downwards to take in her bare breasts, free from blood and tempting him with their perfection. He watched silently as they bounced slightly as Odile unbuttoned her trousers, lifting her hips off of Harry slightly so she could pull them off completely - exposing her naked cunt for him to admire. Ripples of shadows snaked up her body, teasing her hard nipples before settling around her pretty neck, waiting for the command to choke her just the way she liked and Odile let out a soft moan in anticipation, knowing Harry was going to fuck her senseless at any moment.

"Look at you, my pretty Queen." He hummed softly, dark emerald eyes sweeping over Odile's naked body as if he was committing it to memory.

"If I am your Queen, I shall need a crown." Odile stated boldly, her hands already gripping the golden halo framing her husband's curls and lifting it from his head. A subtle moan rumbled deep in his chest as he watched her place his crown atop her locs.

His cock stiffened even more in the confines of his trousers at the sight of his wife wearing nothing but the golden crown on her head, desire overtook him and he knew he couldn't drag this out like he'd originally planned.

"Now fuck me, my King. Show me how much you missed me." Odile gripped Harry's jaw, her brown eyes locked onto his green with such intent in an attempt to get him to submit. But that was not Harry, he did not submit to anyone - not even his mate. He smirked playfully as she felt his shadows squeeze her neck, restricting the air just enough to make her head go the perfect amount of fuzzy.

"You want my cock, then take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." Settling back against his ornate throne, he watched as Odile set to work unbuttoning his trousers and freeing his length from the confines of his pants. She didn't care he was still fully clothed, all she cared about was finally getting to fuck her mate after years of pining after this exact moment.

He hissed softly as she took him in her hand, tugging slowly at his cock just enough to tease him with pleasure as she ground her pussy against his thick thigh. Wetness seeped into the material of his trousers, leaving a patch of arousal as she continued to get herself off before taking what she really wanted. Breathless pants filled the air as the pair of them got lost in pleasure, blurts of precome collected on the dark skin of Odile's hand like sparkling pearls while Harry's shadows created a necklace of darkness around her pure neck.

Harry's mouth suddenly enveloped Odile's left nipple, teeth grazing softly over her skin as he sucked at her breast perfectly positioned in front of her face. The rhythm of her hips became uneven as she whimpered with sensitivity, already feeling herself hurtling towards the edge after such a long time of nothing.

"H-Harry..."

Stars and shadows snaked around the throne as both their powers were released from its confines, the bond between them growing the further Harry and Odile fell into their pleasure and healing their shattered souls.

"So, close, sweetheart. Such a good girl f'me." Harry mumbled breathlessly, obviously struggling just as much as his wife to last much longer. "Come on my thigh, darling. Let go."

And that was all it took for her to tumble over the edge, hips stilling as she came all over Harry's thigh. Her head tipped back as a loud moan escaped her lips, bright stars filling the room and almost blinded Harry as he watched her gorgeous features scrunch up in pleasure - a sight he had only dreamed of for twenty years. His own release followed almost instantly, spurting up his clothed torso as Odile's pretty moans filled his ears like his favourite melody.

"Fuck-" He choked on his own moans, unable to talk properly as he struggled to stop his power from clouding his mind and rendering him completely speechless. "Perfect girl, so perfect, sweetheart."

Slumped against her husband's body, Odile peppered gentle kisses along his exposed, sweaty collarbones - delicate fingers trailing over the inked swallows that were left on display after the material had fallen open in all the pleasure.

"Made a mess all over me." He chuckled lightly, running his hand over her thighs as he took in the wetness on his trousers. Instead of blushing with embarrassment, Odile simply raised her hand that was covered in her husband's come and made a show of licking it up with a satisfied smirk. The sight of her tongue dragging along the back of her hand, savouring the taste of his release made Harry's cock twitch once more as he felt himself grow half hard with every lick.

"And you." She hummed, "Just as desperate, darling. You're not kidding anyone."

Her hips began to grind against his both of them still sensitive to touch but neither caring. Odile needed to sit on Harry's cock and feel him fill her up for the rest of eternity - she'd been empty for too long and now she needed to satisfy her hunger.

Taking him in her hand once more, Odile lifted herself up just enough to position him at her entrance. Hungry eyes watched her eagerly as Harry waited for the bliss of feeling her tightness envelope him completely - both of them sighing with pleasure as their hips joined once more.

Shadows curled around Odile's wrists, forcing them upwards so that her hands tangled in Harry's messy curls in a silent demand before settling around her neck to choke her. Her head was spinning with lust at the feeling of Harry's power constricting the amount of air she could take in, all while revelling in being full to the brim with his aching cock. Their lips smashed together, tongues dancing in each other's mouths as she began to ride her husband with an eager rhythm, hands tugging at his curls just as the King liked it. Deep moans escaped his lips, filling the air as his hands gripped her butt tightly, helping her to grind harder against him for both their pleasure.

"So tight, so wet, sweetheart." Harry panted into the kiss, bucking up into her pussy to hit the sweet spot inside her. "Missed this perfect cunt."

"Harder, make me scream!" Odile pleaded as a dull ache settled in her thighs with all the effort it was taking to ride his cock with such energy. She needed him to take her, to fuck her so hard she saw stars and he was more than happy to oblige - but not without a little teasing first.

"Knew you wouldn't kill me, darling." He chuckled slowly in between trailing sloppy kisses along her collarbone towards her heavy breasts. His thumb teased her clit, rubbing slow circles to add to the building tension at her core that made her such a moaning mess. "Need my cock too bad, don't you?"

A sharp snap of his hips timed perfectly with her hips bouncing down on his cock filled her even deeper, causing a loud moan to echo about the room unexpectedly, only proving Harry right.

"Who else would fuck you this good, leave you screaming like I can?" He smirked against Odile's skin as her sounds of pleasure continued to ring out across the room, allowing his shadows to ghost over every inch of her body and enhance every delicate touch he was giving her. "You'd miss the warmth of my cock for all eternity."

"Uh-huh, you. Only you, baby." She replied breathlessly, unable to focus properly as her hips began to stutter. Sweat sparkled like glitter on her dark skin, making her appear like starlight itself, all gorgeous and addictive. Harry's cock ached at the sight, his chest heaving with desire as he let his shadows tangle with the stars rippling from her body, both their releases rapidly approaching with little warning.

"Look at you, so full of me." The King grunted with each powerful thrust upwards, his fingers digging into her hips so hard as he helped guide her cunt onto his cock there was no doubt bruises would be left in their wake. "Taking me like a good girl."

"All yours, belong to you!" Odile whimpered, her vision going blurry as she was practically blinded by the tight coil of pleasure that was threatening to explode at any second. With Harry's shadows wrapped tightly around her neck, his sharp thrusts timed perfectly to hit her g-spot and his ghosted touch on her clit, the woman could barely sit up straight - her forehead resting on Harry's shoulder for support as he helped her reach her peak.

"Harry-" Her moan was immediately cut off by another sharp thrust from Harry's hips, the King recognising all the signs that she was seconds from toppling over the edge. Her hips bucked frantically as she chased the rising feeling in her core, heavy pants filling the air between them as the pair turned animalistic in chasing their high.

"I know, sweetheart. Come for me darling." Harry demanded; his voice thick with lust as he felt ready to burst. "Soak my cock, milk me dry."

Shadowed starlight tore through the room as pleasure peaked in perfect waves, slamming into the walls and crumbling the dark paintings into tiny pieces. Their pleasured moans mixed together in a delightful tune as they rode out their highs, Odile collapsing into Harry's arms as her body felt weak after such a powerful orgasm. Soft kisses were pressed against her sweaty forehead as Harry's soft touch rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

Wrapped up in each other's warmth, with his cock still buried deep within his mate, Harry finally felt the peace he'd dreamt of since taking the throne five hundred years ago.

Centuries of terror and bloodshed was over. It was time to start anew.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #smut #dom harry styles #fantasy #fantasy au #poc characters #king!harry #faerie #fae!harry

38 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 2 months

Note

May I request Far Cry 6? Darling is part of libertad, maybe they could be Dani’s sibling? Perhaps it could be a platonic Yandere Dani vs Yandere Castillo? (I’m trying to think of how this could tie into the winter ask but idk how 😭)

I think I understand your request... but I wasn't sure what pairing you wanted Anton so I kept him general and Dani platonic. Dani is referred to as They/Them in this.

Not fully proofread, Expect mistakes!

Yandere! Platonic Dani vs Yandere! Castillo with Dani's Sibling! Darling

Pairing: Platonic (Dani/Castillo)/Romantic (Castillo)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder mention, Kidnapping, Psychological torment implied, Blood, Dictatorship, Human "pet" mention, Forced companionship/relationship (Anton).

The idea of this brings so much drama.

Dani wants to protect you as you are their sibling, they've seen all the harm caused by the Castillos and that's why they've joined Libertad.

Meanwhile Anton Castillo has his own plans for you as you help your sibling rebel.

Again, Anton's obsession could be platonic... wanting to raise you better than a revolutionary... or romantic, wanting to treat you to a life of luxury by his side.

Either way he plans to make your fate a message.

Anton plans to show all the other wild dogs and lambs in Yara their place by "domesticating" you.

In any means necessary.

This is another rivalry dynamic where one yandere is protective and the other is on the offensive.

Dani's trying their best to care for you in Libertad, trying to keep you out of sight from Castillo's forces.

You're just as wanted as them... but for different reasons.

Anton Castillo is willing to kill your sibling in front of you just to teach you a message.

In fact, a lot of Anton's obsession includes psychological torment.

If you've seen half the things he's done in Far Cry 6, you'd understand.

Due to you being part of Libertad, Anton would kill your friends... family... and allies to break you down.

Then when you're left deserted in a pool of red, he'll pick you up out of the aftermath.

He'll clean you up like adopting a stray and make you his.

In Anton's eyes, having you run around with Dani makes you just as much a dog or sheep like the rest of Yara.

As your master... as a lion... Anton will make you his prized pet.

Dani doesn't even want to bring you on missions.

So many people in Yara die on the streets.

When Dani learns that Anton has put out a bounty on you to take you in alive... they begin to realize that you both are in much deeper than they thought.

Dani wants to hide you in someplace like a bunker until the Castillos are dealt with.

Dani has no clue why Anton wants you, but they don't like the idea.

Dani refuses to roll over and hand you to the Castillos... just to be shot.

So they fight, they fight for you, Libertad, and Yara as a whole.

Dani is a very soft yandere in this... in fact I always seem to write them as soft in a way.

They don't want you hurt and keep you out of danger.

They're barely even a yandere as their protective behavior seems justified.

Anton on the other hand....

By the end of this rivalry things can end two ways.

Dani wins the revolution and successfully protects you as your sibling.

Your life is slowly rebuilt and you're happy.

Anton Castillo wins?

You're dragged away from bloody and flaming carnage... your clothes torn with tears streaming down your cheeks...

All while Anton drags you into a life of luxury built on the blood of others.

He'll wash you up, dress you in white, and train/educate you properly like the pet you are.

Don't frown... this is the best for you.

Anton will treat you like his loyal dog...

In reality you're just another lamb in a lion's den.

#yandere far cry #yandere far cry 6 #yandere dani rojas #yandere anton castillo #platonic yandere dani

27 notes · View notes

lilyevanstan1325 · 5 months

Text

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 1

I drag myself with difficulty to the edge of the long road that stands in front of me.

My senses are on alert as I move slowly but decisively towards the trees on my right.

I feel too exposed here, the trees will give me a little more shelter from prying eyes and teeth ready to bite me.

I blink violently as the sunlight blinds me, burning my clear eyes.

Mum always told me "Clear eyes are delicate, always protect them"

And I, who was only five years old, snorted impatiently while, with a very sweet smile, she placed a pair of sunglasses on my nose and then kissed the tip making me giggle.

I have always loved my green eyes just because they are the same as my mother's, they are the only thing that reminds me that she existed.

I have nothing left of her except an old photo, creased and worn by the tears I shed over it.

Every time I see my reflection, if I concentrate hard enough, I can see her in my features, I can pretend for a few moments that she is there in front of me.

Our resemblance is the only thing that constantly reminds me that she was a real part of a life that today no longer belongs to me.

Emerald eyes.

That's how dad called her.

I can still hear his voice as he whispers those sweet words to my mother.

I sigh thinking about how much they loved each other.

They have always been my example of true, pure and strong love.

They are what I aspire to or rather what I dreamed for myself before.

Now there is nothing left, only death and despair.

I look around looking for a slightly shadier spot but without great results.

The heat is increasingly unbearable, especially at this time of the afternoon.

Not that I have a watch with me but from the position of the sun in the sky I'm pretty sure it was a few hours after noon.

I breathe deeply and the hot air burns my nose, my lungs.

The heat burns my throat, corroding every clear thought.

Damn…

I didn't know Georgia was so damn hot.

I mean, even though I am walking in the depths of the forest, the sun gives me no respite, it infiltrates the branches and leaves with unprecedented violence.

It's like it wants to constantly remind me “Hey bitch I'm here, I know where you are.You can't escape me"

The jeans I'm wearing fit like a second skin, making me sweat even more profusely while the white t-shirt I'm wearing has noticeable, and if I had been in the company of other human beings, embarrassing patches of sweat near the armpits and along the entire back.

Let's say the smell I give off isn't the best.

For a fraction of a second my vision blurs, slowing down my already limping and clumsy pace.

The sounds around me become muffled.

I no longer hear the cicadas singing in the heat of this desolate and cursed land.

Without realizing it, I stop and rest my hand against the rough trunk of a tree, the bark scratches my palm but I barely feel the pain.

Nowadays I feel numb to everything.

I no longer feel anything except the inexorable passage of time.

Forty-two days, I think as my vision comes and goes, repeatedly showing me white points of light on my black boots.

That's how long I've been wandering.

Forty-two damn days.

On my long journey to Atlanta I encountered few living people but many, too many, dead.

Fucking biters.

I tried to keep a low profile, only killing them when I really couldn't help myself.

My only weapons are my trusty knife and a machete found in an old abandoned car near Charlotte.

As for the living, well...in that case I avoided them as anyone would avoid STI.

Or the biters.

It depends on your point of view.

But the thing that amazes me is that I have never met his men.

Or him.

Maybe they didn't think I would run away south.

Or maybe they never looked for me.

Why should he commit his men, in his opinion his most precious resources, to look for me?

Maybe there was a time when he would have turned the world upside down to find me but in the last few weeks he had grown colder.

It wasn't him anymore.

Without feelings.

No hugs, no sweet words.

Only barked orders, half-hearted phrases.

As if I were another one of his stupid men and not the most important woman in his life, as he used to call me.

It is as if he had convinced himself that his love for me made him weak in the eyes of others, as if love me made him vulnerable and therefore less credible or reliable as a leader.

I feel my legs give out, my knees tremble, forcing me to kneel on the hard ground.

I bring the hand that isn't busy gripping the tree to my head, as if this gesture could ease my pain.

The same excruciating pain in my head that hasn't left me for days now seems to explode with ferocity, as if I suddenly found myself hanging upside down and all the blood was draining towards my brain, giving me the not so pleasant sensation of my eyes being forced out of my eye sockets.

In the midst of this ocean of pain I can hear the cawing of a crow that echoes throughout the forest, making me jump violently, making my heartbeat skyrocket.

I feel it beating so hard that I have the almost mathematical certainty that at any moment it could break through my ribs and come out of my chest.

The crow flies away with a rustle of wings, continuing on its way unaware of having almost caused me a cardiac arrest.

Another dizziness takes me by surprise, making me lose my grip on the tree and finding myself on all fours, my stomach shaking with violent spasms while empty retching fills my dry and sore throat.

I know what's happening.

I'm aware of it.

The problem is that I'm fucking scared of it.

I can't accept it.

After all, who could do it?

Who would be able to accept their death as if nothing had happened?

I feel my eyes burning but no tears appear.

My crooked mouth in a grip of perpetual pain burns, the dozens of small wounds that cover it bleed with every small movement.

I've learned to live with hunger, it's not as difficult as it seems.

The last time I think I ate was about two or three days ago.

I had found a small cabin in the woods, I think it was an old hunter's lodge.

With only a few hours of light ahead of me, I had decided to stop and set a small trap near my refuge for that night.

Maybe I would catch a disgusting possum or if I was really lucky a rabbit.

But instead, the next morning, the only thing I found was a little mouse.

Small, defenseless, gasping desperately with his little paw stuck in the trap.

He squealed forcefully, fighting for his life.

I still remember the tears of disgust at what I was about to do but it was for my own life.

For my survival.

I felt pathetic feeling sorry for a small and insignificant ball of fur but I think I saw myself in him.

Too small and defenseless for this world that is now too cruel and cowardly, destined to succumb but not therefore willing to give up.

I believe my sleep deprivation played a major role in my little mental breakdown.

An hour later I was sitting in front of a small fire, my hair glued to my neck from sweat and the remains of that little warrior on the ground in front of me.

“Mors tua vita mea” I found myself whispering while looking at those little bones.

Both of us, the little mouse and I, had only one mission, survive and there would be only one winner.

The failure of the little rodent guaranteed the achievement of my goal...surviving a few more days.

A rustle in the distance brings me back to the present.

I try to use every ounce of strength to concentrate all my energy on lifting my head, to at least try to understand where the noise is coming from, but by now dehydration is taking over, making me weak and exposed.

Vulnerable.

And in this world if you are vulnerable you are dead.

I lower my head in defeat, my forehead almost touching the dry leaves on the ground.

The smell of mold and musk tickling my nostrils.

My fingers dig into the ground with anger and frustration.

The sun continues to burn the back of my neck undisturbed, dulling my pale skin.

Some dirty strands escape from my bun and stick to my sweat-beaded forehead.

I am thirsty.

I'm literally dying of thirst.

And honestly it's a horrible death.

I finished my last water about five days ago.

For the next two days, after the end of that precious liquid, I drank my own urine twice.

I still remember the feeling of disgust, the tears rolling down my cheeks.

My head screaming at me not to do it while my body begged me otherwise.

I had to do it, I had no choice...

But then between the sweat and the lack of any other liquid even the urine disappeared and now I haven't drunk for almost 48 hours and my body can't take it anymore.

It's shutting down.

I am slowly and surely losing all functions.

Like I'm falling but I'm doing it in slow motion, I know I'll crash eventually and it'll be horrible but I can't do anything to help it.

I'm there, sitting in the front row watching my end.

Cool.

That rustling again.

I would like to get up, my instinct tells me to check what it is, to fight, but my body no longer responds to me.

It's like my brain has dissociated itself from everything else and told me “Hell no baby, I don't give a fuck, I'm done.Now it's your business"

Another round of retching knocks me out, forcing me to lie down on the ground, melting against it, with the dry leaves as a pillow.

I hear footsteps and I can't understand if they belong to a human being or to a biter.

The sounds are confusing, like everything else after all.

Thoughts become incoherent, and reality mixes with memories of the past.

“Come on my little girl, don't give up”

Is my daddy's voice?

The almost musical cadence of his voice makes my heart skip a beat.

Or is it just the palpitations due to dehydration?

Then another voice…

“Summer?Where are you my dear?"

Mom?

It's you?

Where are you?

Rolling onto my side and using the last of my strength I lie down onto my back.

Behind my closed eyelids I can perceive the intensity of the sun.

The sounds in my ears don't make sense, they come and go garbled and distorted.

Words, angry growls, whispers.

I believe my time has finally come.

The only regret?

Knowing that I came close, so close.

Atalanta is only a few tens of miles away and dying like this, devoured by some horde or simply devoured by my own thirst, sucks.

Dying sucks.

It's not how I imagined it.

It's certainly not like in the movies, that's for sure.

There is no last soft sigh, nothing romantic.

No cathartic moments.

No understanding of the meaning of life.

There is no flashback, no images of your life flashing before you.

Indeed...every breath is a stab, a slow torture that consumes your soul.

First, it fucks your brain and then he takes everything else.

An agony without grace.

Dying is not easy.

But despite everything I will die happy knowing that I tried in every way.

I tried to survive tooth and nail but in the end this world got the better of me.

A lone tear drips from my left eye.

Then the darkness.

Here, today, my journey towards a better life ends.

My run towards the freedom ends.

Please comment, share and rate ❤️

🔥 Masterlist 🔥

Tag list

@deansapplepie

#fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc #fanfiction recommendation #fanfic #norman reedus #builtforthisworld #daryl smut #daryl dixon smut #norman reedus smut #twd fanfiction #twd family #twd fandom #twd fic

33 notes · View notes

gofuschia · 1 year

Text

JACK BAKER SFW & NSFW HCS

Because I have questionable taste in men, haven't seen any jack content and NOBODY CAN STOP ME!!

Most of this is referring to jack post-mold infection, unless explicitly stated otherwise. So… keep that in mind and be prepared for some kooky behaviour.

warnings and prefaces; female reader, infected jack - he comes as his own warning lol, mentions of alcoholism & dysfunctional family dynamics, cheating, a little bit of angst

GENERAL/SFW

— He has this insecure complex about always needing to be in the dominant role within the family dynamic. Gets majorly pissed whenever Marguerite entertains male victims for dinner, and he hurries to get rid of them. Jack’s house is the place he is in control, his domain, where he has forged a comfortable little life with himself as the patriarch & figurehead. He perceives any and all male presence as a threat to its sanctity. Even Lucas, from time to time, needs to be put in his place. It’s a deeply competitive thing that stems from his childhood insecurities, feuding with his brother and father.

— Listen, he’s an old-fashioned guy. Sees women as the fairer sex and all that. He’s a little gentler with handling female victims for that reason. (throwback to mia being carried over his shoulder and ethan literally just being dragged behind in the mud LMAO). If he notices Lucas being particularly handsy with a female victim, he’ll start chastising him:

“Lucas, you goddamn gutter rat! I raised you better’n’that, boy!”

— He delights in taunting you with little innuendos and innocent sounding pet names while he tracks you around the house - sweetheart, dolly, sugar, little pig.

“Here, kitty kitty. Where are yo-o-ou?”

— Jack's definitely not a soft man anymore - but when it comes to you, he can be. It’s always very gratifying to see the man go from downright brutish to handling you with something almost approaching care. He’s ruthlessly, frighteningly strong; you’ve watched him shatter bones and sever limbs with barely more than a breath of effort. You can feel incredibly fragile in his grip, but at the same time, inexplicably safe.

— He could kill you easily, on a whim, and yet, you notice the way he takes care to measure the strength in his grip; consciously holding back from utterly destroying you. Jack will leave you with bruises, sure, but never broken beyond repair.

— Contrary to the way he presents himself, Jack actually wasn’t all that much of a fighter when he was younger. He was always built a little smaller than Joe, mousier, with poor eyesight. Instead of roughhousing in the yard with his brother or going out hunting with his Pa, he’d have much preferred to sit in with his Momma, shucking peas on the porch, nose buried in a book.

— But with a bully for a brother and an alcoholic, abusive father, it became necessary for survival in his household to toughen up, wean himself away from his mother’s forgiving gentleness. Not only that, but the constant comparisons to his brother and the need to appeal to his father’s uber-masculine attitude grated at him, and he eventually conditioned himself into being the football-loving man’s man that his environment demanded him to be. He met Marguerite, joined the military to seal the deal - and the rest is history.

— It’s heavily implied ingame that Jack has a bit of a drinking problem even before the infection. It’s an unfortunate trait he picked up from his own father who was quite a violent man. Jack’s always made a conscious effort to break these cycles and be firm yet fair with his kids - however, Jack can be an aggressive drunk… and Lucas has always been an ornery kid. They’ve never quite seen eye to eye and their relationship only grew more turbulent the older Lucas got.

So, Lucas is the one who usually suffers the brunt of Jack’s drunken black moods, and sometimes their clashing gets physical. This is just amplified tenfold post-evie and he gets weirdly competitive and aggressive with his son - especially when it comes to you. Jack doesn't like to share.

Lucas will most definitely take an interest in the new pet his dad’s keeping around - and Jack takes cruel pleasure in making vulgar jabs at his sons inexperience, taunting you before his eyes like a piece of candy in front of a kid:

“Aw, what’s wrong, boy? You want a piece of this sweet little kitty? Too fuckin’ bad – she ain’t for you!”

— Probably threatens to castrate him if he tries anything with you LMAO (which is a valid concern to be honest, lucas is a horny little bastard) or implies bringing the nature of your relationship up to Marguerite. The threat alone is usually enough to scare Lucas off as we all know Jack doesn’t bluff when it comes to cutting off limbs 😭

NSFW

— Now, listen, we’re gonna have to suspend some disbelief here. Do I think pre-infected Jack would cheat on his wife? Never. He’s loyal and staunch as a bull and he ADORES Marguerite. Post infection, though. Maybe. I can see it.

— He still loves his wife, infection be damned, but we all know the unfortunate state of Marguerite’s genitalia, and gross as infected Jack can be, even he draws the line at sticking his cock in a bug hive 😭

— His excuse for his infidelity is “a man has needs,” - and with you being so pretty and so willing, how could he pass up the opportunity? Even if he did want to reject the carnal urge, it’s incredibly difficult for Jack to stop himself from enacting his basest desires. The mold completely screws with his head and free will, lowers his inhibitions and makes him do and say things that would otherwise be a passing intrusive thought while sober.

Excuses and justifications aside, he definitely still has a big guilty conscience about it in the back of his mind - and in his very brief moments of lucidity he probably cries about what he’s done. (ouch)

— Jack’s sex drive, among many other things, has been amplified a great deal after the infection. It doesn’t take much to get him aroused. Sometimes he’ll pop hard-ons just from the adrenaline of the chase, tailing your scared ass around the property, hot on your scent.

— Before, his sex drive was pretty average for a man of his age, not a huge priority for him anymore but indulged in a couple times a week with his wife after a long day of work round the ranch. Now, with the mold biggering his appetite, screwing with his hormones & testosterone levels, he’s as virile as a man several decades his junior.

— There’s fuck all else to do round that house anyway, besides the occasional murder, partaking in cannibalism, and entertaining Evie – so Jack likes to waste away some of the drawn-out hours between your legs.

— He’s actually quite the giver. Though infected Jack has no qualms about just taking what he wants, he is still, at his core, a southern gentleman - and this quality bleeds through even in the bedroom. It’s more fun for him when you’re visibly enjoying yourself too, is all. And he knows how to treat a lady.

— Definitely not lacking in experience. He’s old, has fathered two kids and knows his way around the female form quite confidently - you’re in good hands.

— Jack loves eating pussy. Everything about it. The taste, the smell, the way you clamp your thighs like a vice around his head. It’s all incredibly arousing to him.

— He’ll hike your legs up, grip cruel and bruising around your thighs, and just absolutely go to town. He’s relentless about it, too. Won’t stop till your cunt juices have soaked his beard through to dripping, and you’ve come multiple times around his tongue, clit swollen and oversensitive.

— If he’s in a really giving and indulgent mood, he’ll pat his barrel chest; invite you to shimmy on up and just sit yourself nice n’ pretty on his face, smothering him with your pussy and thighs. He gets to forget everything and just work his jaw, focus on nothing but the slick heat between your lips. The man is in heaven when he’s tongue-fucking you.

— Quite stalwartly dominant - he just really likes the feeling of being needed and depended upon. Makes him feel big and strong, feeds his ego. If you beg for him it makes him go nuts. He’s also not opposed to being called daddy every now and then in the bedroom - gives him that lovely little superiority kick.

— That being said, he’s not averse to you riding him every now and then. He loves a bit of cowgirl. The visual stimulation of your tits bouncing while you frantically get yourself off on his cock always drives him crazy… but by the end he can never quite stop himself from taking control; seizing you roughly by the hips and pistoning you up and down on his cock like a fuck-toy.

— Sex with Jack is an exhausting affair. He has a ridiculous amount of stamina now and as such he draws the sessions out for hours.

— Rough without meaning to be, sometimes. His amplified strength really shows at certain peaked moments of pleasure, where he tends to lose all restraint and just go absolutely fucking ham.

— Afterwards you will be sporting bruises in the shape of his fingers, stinging imprints of his palm on your rump; a multitude of aches and pains and a numb, dully throbbing cunt. Expect not to be able to walk until the mold has healed up your sore body.

— He enjoys it when you fawn over him like a loving little wife, he's a sucker for those sappy traditional dynamics. Run at him with your arms open and he’ll lift you up like a featherweight, sit you on his lap, let you tell him all about your day. He’ll let you take the reins if he’s in the mood to be taken care of, on your knees between his spread legs.

— Not groomed. It’s a bit wild down there in the hair department. Literally does not give a shit either way. Too busy serial murdering and being insane to trim and he never really tended to the bush much in the first place. He thinks body hair is natural, and likes the masculinity of it, so he doesn’t really care. He's also definitely a little bit stinky. (ok… probably more than a little bit). But let’s be honest, who isn’t a little on the funky side in the Baker house? You probably don’t smell like roses either.

— Gets rougher the more excited he becomes. When Jack’s on the edge of an orgasm he becomes downright violent. He tries to be careful with you, really he does, but he’s a slave to the base sensations and the jolting of his hips becomes a powerful, jackhammering force; big hands leaving purpling bruises along your hips.

Afterwards, he’ll kiss your sore spots apologetically, pet your head like a cat and murmur your praises; good girl, ‘atta girl, you took me so damn well.

— His hands are a marvel unto themselves. Big, broad, capable and work-calloused. They feel incredible dragging over your nipples and cunt; doling out pleasure and punishment in equal measure. He’ll spend hours with you bent over his lap, alternating between finger-fucking you relentlessly and spanking your ass with the flat of his palm.

— BREEDING KINK FOR DAYS… absolutely loves pumping you full with his cum. He’ll reach down to inspect the excess semen your poor pussy couldn’t handle, scoop it up and push it back inside of you.

Jack loves the idea of getting you pregnant and, in his words; ‘expanding the family’, or ‘giving Evie a new little sibling’. Of course, that’s a precarious subject given the fact he’s a married man… but Evie’s family isn’t your typical nuclear family, anyway. The dynamics are all fucked up, fickle and interchangeable as a child playing with barbie dolls. One day Marguerite carries the privileged title of mommy - the next, you or Mia. Some days both.

— Mostly he just likes the idea of it. He loves being a father, and he and Marguerite had always intended on having more than two kids - however, after a few traumatic miscarriages and sombre doctors’ appointments, they gave up that dream. He also secretly has a thing for pregnant bodies - he thinks they’re gorgeous, and it gives him a real kick of pride and possessiveness to see a lady all swollen up with his seed.

— He can be sadistic with your pleasure at times, edging you to the precipice of an orgasm and then abruptly withdrawing. You just look so pretty and pathetic when you squirm and beg. If you’re not reduced to tears, begging him to please, daddy, let you cum, then he hasn’t done his job right.

— Has a thing for over-stimulation, too. Makes a point of bringing you to orgasm so many times and fucking your pussy so raw that it becomes borderline painful.

— He can be merciful on occasion. If you’ve caught him in a pleasant mood and you give him the doe-eyes just right, Jack becomes a bit of a pushover. You’re just such a sweet lil’ thing, and he can’t resist you.

He’ll treat you real good. Whatever you ask him for, you get. You want your pussy devoured? Want to be fucked into next week? Take a seat - he’s more than happy to oblige.

#phew that got longer than intended teehee #jack baker #jack baker re7 #re7 #re7 biohazard #jack baker x reader #my writing #lucas baker #resident evil 7 #resident evil #resident evil biohazard

101 notes · View notes

frankenkyle19 · 11 months

Text

This Cruel Existence

Request

warnings: mentions of death (Kit :((), dark themes, lots of angst, no happy ending… yeah

word count: 786

enjoy! Might have cried writing this tehe

(again gif is not mine! Found on Pinterest)

Your husband. That was your husband strapped to the electric chair, face turned away from you to conceal his tears.

He hadn’t done this. He hadn’t killed those women, but as much as you protested, no one gave a shit. He was going to die and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it.

You and Kit had met when you were 16, and him 17. You had quickly gotten married after highschool and lived in a small comfortable house in the country. It was all you could ever ask for. Kit was the most attentive husband, and he never asked anything of you.

Each night when he got home, if there was dinner on the table or not, he pulled you into a kiss and told you just how much he loved you.

You never thought that one of those kisses would be the last you shared with your beautiful husband. He had been taken from you, hidden away where you couldn’t find him and accused of awful things. Not him, not your husband. You knew he wasn’t capable of doing those atrocities.

You missed his hugs, kisses, missed the comfort of snuggling into him after a long day, of hearing his heartbeat steady against your ear as you laid on his chest.

You had no idea that all of those things would be taken from you without even a second to grapple.

When you got the call that Kit had been sentenced to death, you crumbled to the floor of your kitchen, the kitchen that Kit had built specifically for you, to house all your pots and pans and all of your little knickknacks.

Your husband was going to die and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

You begged and cried, pleading with them to let you see him one last time. They agreed, you would have a meeting at the asylum, spend one last hour together and then he would go off to his fate. They said you were welcome to come watch, but why would you want to watch your husband die?

You couldn’t fathom how to live life without him… and now especially.. you had found out a few weeks ago you were pregnant with yours and Kits very first child. The child who now would never know their own father. Kit had always wanted kids, and the fact that he was so close to it… it hurt even more.

When you had gotten escorted to the asylum, you could barely stand up by yourself. Barely walk. Barely think. You felt like a zombie. A shell of yourself.

Kit had hugged you so so tight, whispering into your ear that everything would be okay. That you’d be alright.

He cried when you told him about the child growing in your womb. His child. He held you stomach in his hands and just cried, cried for the baby he’d never get to meet. For the child he’d never get to watch grow up.

“Suga’…” he wiped at his eyes with the palms of his hands before taking a shaky breath and standing up. “I love you more than anything in this world, you know that dontcha? You’re going to be the best mother, I just know it.” He pulled you into another hug, trying to keep his tears from welling over anymore. He had to be strong. For you.

When the guards told you your time was up you had to be dragged away screaming and kicking. Not your husband. Not your Kit. He hadn’t done this! How unfair life was. How cruel. And to think the real criminal who had done this was still out there… getting off free when your husband was being sent to his death.

Against your better judgment, you let them lead you to the execution room where a group of people would watch as your husband was wrongfully killed.

Kit had been led in in handcuffs, dried tears caked onto his cheeks as he glanced around the room. He was so so scared. Terrified, not just for himself, but for his beautiful wife and unborn child.

The executioner had allowed him to have his last words as they strapped him to the chair, body shaking and tears welling in his beautiful brown eyes that would haunt you for the rest of your days.

He looked directly at the glass and though he couldn’t see through it, he knew you were there.

“Baby.. I love you so so much..” his voice trembled “I’m so so sorry baby girl… I love you.” And those were his last words to you. The executioner finished strapping him in and began to count down.

3…2…1…

“STOP!”

#evan peters #american horror story #evan peters icons #ahs fandom #ahs asylum #kit walker #kit walker x reader #kit walker angst #kit walker ahs #kit walker imagine #ahs fanfic #american horror asylum

96 notes · View notes

crystal-lillies · 1 year

Text

Okay okay okay first thoughts on the Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves movie, with my best effort to avoid spoilers this time.

I had a blast watching it. I loved seeing the practical costumes and makeup for the creatures and I loved seeing the different ways spells were interpreted. And I did tear up a few times! Nearly full cried, but definitely got emotional on several points which is almost always a good sign for me.

I did not expect how the story played out the way it did. It was marketed definitely as a GOTG-style movie but Fantasy(tm) which both is and isn't what we got.

The whole thing felt like a campaign, or maybe the first arc of a campaign, but squeezed into a 2 hour and 15 minute movie. That being, it felt like a fast pace mostly because they sped-run the traveling bits with some gorgeous montage shots. Mostly fine by me, but at some points, it definitely felt like the scale of the world and time was off. It's by no means unique to this movie, and definitely not unique to the movies this film is emulating in spirit.

It's got somewhat of an Indiana Jones/Goonies/The Mummy/even OG trilogy Star Wars vibe in that certain logics are hand waved in order to get to the good stuff (tm), but it isn't unforgivable nor a detriment to the enjoyment of the film.

The characters are all very enjoyable, each in their own ways. I wish we spent just a bit more time on each of them, but there's the rub with ensemble films. And truth be told, to no one's surprise, Chris Pine's character Edgin gets the most prominent focus. I was surprised, however, at the focus Hugh Grant's character Forge had, especially compared to Rege Jean Page's Xenk.

Forge is a very charismatic antagonist, who has a lot more to do in the story than I anticipated, and definitely is a delight to watch onscreen. Hugh Grant dips a bit hammy into his performance but it's in a fun way that reminds of a Saturday morning cartoon. Smarmy, not entirely serious, but occasionally shows a hint of the person beneath, good and bad.

I found myself a little disappointed that Xenk got a really interesting focus, with an emotional and engaging background, and then seemed to not get a satisfying conclusion to that focus. He felt like a guest player character, rather than a full time player character, like the others in the group. While it does still tie up in a self-contained story, I'm hoping this movie does well enough to maybe explore into his journeys beyond this one. They did say that he is the Archetypal Hero that doesn't really fit with the rest of the group, so I suppose that was their way of saying he isn't permanent, which is fair. And while watching I definitely felt it, and wondered how he would be past his point and if he would have dragged the story in a different direction than it needed. (Or maybe if he was too much of a higher level than they were to justify keeping him around.) But that still didn't keep me from wanting to see more of his character later down the line.

Justice Smith's Simon has a nice self-esteem arc, and I enjoyed watching his growth through the movie. He also has an interesting backstory that sort of gets played with, but has plenty more room to grow, and I also want to see more of him and his character.

Sophia Lillis' Doric is a lot of fun and strikes me as a Circle of the Moon druid. She gets a small, engaging focus of her own, but in keeping with the pacing and the ensemble directed at Edgin, I find myself wanting more of her as well.

Doric and Simon are paired up, sort of, and I'm not entirely sure if it works since they don't get too much time, but such is the curse of a fast-paced ensemble film. Hell, Casino Royale was barely an ensemble film, if you count the sidekicks and villains, and Bond got a life-and-sequel-movie-altering romance that was built through the whole thing and I didn't feel like the relationship had enough there by the time she was killed at the end of it, so mileage may vary I suppose.

Michelle Rodriguez's character Holga was also a delight to watch. She's not the lowest of Intelligence but she for sure rolled a nat20 on heart. (Yes I'm keeping that.) It may be since I've been watching a lot of the Mighty Nein campaign, but she reminds me a lot of Yasha. And given that this movie was filmed during the pandemic, and the people behind it are huge nerds themselves, it may be very likely they were in part inspired by Yasha when writing Holga. Who could say?

But Holga holds up the party with Chris' Edgin, and they have a great dynamic with each other. Edgin is the bard, and while he doesn't have his own colorful Bigby's Hand, he certainly and deftly weaves the story as his class is wont to do. And I worry for his lute because he swings it around like it's a sword sometimes and every time I think it's going to break.

The writing is fairly tight, fast pacing aside, and there are plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and heartfelt moments. I want to see deleted scenes for this movie because I just want more of this story and these characters. And I feel like some things may have been trimmed that might have bloated a scene or two, but also would have been good to see. Hard to say at this point, but that's the vibe I get.

Overall, this movie is so much fun and worth going to see in theaters, more than once if you can. There is so much love in this story and it is absolutely felt when watching. You can definitely have fun with it if you have no experience with Dungeons and Dragons, if you're only familiar with separate properties like Critical Role or Dimension 20 and not so much the Classic Stuff(tm), or if you're a hardcore fan. There's good content in here for everyone, and it's treated well, and it treats its audience well.

If I were to give it a score as a movie, I would err on the side of 8.5/10. It's far from perfect, but it's a hell of a lot of fun and really well put together. Seeing it with friends/family in an engaged theater I would bump it up to a 9 or a 9.5.

I will be seeing it again, so I am going to reserve any Spoiler/Context-Specific Thoughts for after that time comes, and I will be interested to see how my experience with the movie changes depending on the theater and who I see it with, as I went alone this first time. But I'm very glad I saw it and look forward to seeing it again, and I hope they do get more opportunities to tell more stories in this world and other of the D&D worlds.

Both this cast, and John Francis Daley and Johnathan Goldstein as writer/directors, and all the people who worked on this movie, hit one out of the park and I would be very excited to see what more they could bring.

#flowerspeak #long post #dungeons and dragons honor among thieves #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d #movie review #reviews #dungeons and dragons movie #dungeons and dragons: honor among thieves

58 notes · View notes

why-is-thinking-so-hard · 1 month

Text

now we actually start

⚠️spoilers for mean girls obviously⚠️

it gets long again, but I swear there is actual superhero cadina au info, I actually got into the au not just how I came up with the au.

also a word of warning, when I was trying to figure non spidey au cady's backstory and powers, I made a joke about cady being bitten by a radioactive lion and my friend went crazy for it so we ran with it. I know its absolutely wild, but I think I made it actually work so bear with me.

general cady superhero non-spidey cadina au details

yes, cady was bitten by a radioactive lion so she has lion powers and shit; super strength/1000psi bite force, super agility/36 foot horizontal leap, yell real loud/roar, night vision, super senses, 46 mph top speed, claws because who doesn't love a woman with claws; these aren't really powers, but her head hair gets a lot more volume after the bite which is cool but on the downside the rest of her body hair starts getting kinda thick- its not super super thick, its just thicker than it was-, she needs more sleep, she has this need to consume a lot of raw meat and also hunt live animals

cady was bitten by the lion in Kenya before the move stateside, actually it was what prompted the move. I have this idea that the lion was some military experiment that her dad worked on and got killed while working on it(not by the lion, by one of his coworkers, im actually quite attached to the lion and the idea of the lion escaping capture and living a normal lion life). This is what prompts cady's mom to move them and cady to use her powers(once she discovers them) to help people like her father would've wanted and also get revenge on the people that killed him while she's at it.

janis and Damian find out about cady's powers because the school janitor dragged her, mouse in her mouth, to them and asked, "is she one of yours?" this is also two days after they meet so they were very close to saying no

when she starts out with the hero thing, she cuts holes in a bandana and wears some very basic clothes, but once janis finds out, she sets out to make cady a suit. janis even does research about body armor to make it protective. the suit itself is (once again, @tatsuyam , not a fursuit) more like a supersuit so its built for movement and fighting, but it has touches of janis' art and is inspired by Kenya and lions. in the way that it has ears and a tail. because her hero name is lioness. what with her powers being lion based and all. in the words of edna mode, "no capes."

Damian helps cady come up with all the snappy one liners a hero needs and also overcome anxiety that comes with saving the general populace and having to talk to them and having to act confident, he helps her come up with her persona, her act if you will

there's a rumor around the school that the person in the mascot suit is lioness but cady hates it because she refuses to go near that thing after janis told her nobody washes it and then regina told her about the time she and Shane fucked in that thing

I will get into regina once I figure out what powers she would have

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #cadina #superhero cadina au #mostly superhero cady heron #but hey I actually got into the au

14 notes · View notes

star4daisy · 8 months

Text

Showers

pt 1, 2

906, 02/09, @rosekiller-microfic

tw: slight nsfw, blood and murder (very mild) (wasn't supposed to happen so early but they insisted)

The moment Barty took the knife out of the body, it slumped into his arms and showered him with blood.

“Fuck.” Barty complained. “That was my favourite shirt.”

“Told you to take your shirt off.” Evan winked at him from where he helped Barty hold the body up, his bare torso painted red.

Barty had to admit it was a good look on him, muscles straining from the strength it took to carry it to the nearest trash can, tan skin glowing in the yellow lightning. Evan looked like a work of art. Barty couldn’t help but appreciate it, his grip slacking as he imagined exactly what he’d like to do to him.

Evan grumbled as he took most of the weight. “Great help you are.”

“Those rugby years have to serve you for something.”

“Thought they were good for when you wanted me to push you around.”

“That too,” Barty smirked.

They shoved the body in the dumpster hastily so that no one would bear witness to their crimes, Barty poured alcohol everywhere and Evan used his lighter to set it on fire. The body quickly became engulfed in flames, casting shadows on Evan’s dark expression while Barty grinned madly.

Their eyes met across the fire. Barty couldn’t distinguish Evan’s expression. Did he feel bad for it? Had it lacked as much excitement for him as it did for Barty? They had talked about it for so many years that Barty had built it up greatly in his mind how things would go.

They’d travel wherever they wanted to. They would take whatever they wanted to. And they would kill whoever tried to stand in their way.

It seemed like a nice motto to have when they were surrounded by closed-minded people who did not understand their vision. And yet when the blade pierced the guy's heart and he died in a few instants Barty knew that something had been missing.

The killing didn’t do anything to extinguish his need for adrenaline. The type that could only be satiated through blood, violence or sex. He preferred when it was all three, but he knew you couldn’t have everything in life. The only one who had ever been able to provide him with it was Evan.

Barty hadn't even realised Evan closed the distance between them until he asked him softly. “You good?” his bloodied fingers caressing Barty’s cheek tenderly.

Barty shrugged as he watched the body burn. “Just not what I hoped it would be.”

Evan frowned. “Do you regret it?”

Barty scoffed, making Evan smile and his shoulders drop in relief. “I was just expecting it to be more grandiose. I guess this felt a little lacklustre.”

“Me too,” Evan admitted. “But it was our first time, I’m sure we can make it better next time.”

Barty laughed, resting his forehead against Evan’s shoulder. “You sound like you’re telling a virgin it wasn’t your fault their first time sucked.”

Evan’s shoulder shook from his laughter. “Fuck off. You know what I mean, the struggle was nice, but it was too easy I guess, too fast. I know how you like to drag it out.”

Barty leaned back to properly look at him, he liked how Evan understood him better than anyone. “Maybe I can use my fists next time, make it a proper fight.”

Evan’s eyes shone with barely hidden anticipation, danger and something akin to lust. Both used to mix themselves up when it came to Barty and Evan, danger was always followed by desire, or vice-versa. “Now that would be a sight.”

They only left when the flames died down, “Let’s head to the showers, we can’t be seen with blood all over ourselves.”

“Or I could always lick it off you,” Barty suggested, eyes trailing slowly down Evan’s torso, where he’d been bathed in warm metallic red. Barty could already feel it on his lips, the scent intoxicated him, it called to him like a moth to a flame.

Evan answered him by licking a long stripe down Barty’s neck to his shoulder, slotting his teeth as soon as he was at the junction. Barty couldn't help the moan that he let out, his knees going so weak he had to use the wall to hold himself up.

“Fuck, baby,” he whimpered. “Let me taste you.”

Evan did not let out, teeth sinking further as Barty’s neck burned with pain. He didn’t mind it one bit. Barty thrived on the pain. But smelling the blood from up close made him want to lick Evan whole, so he used all his strength to switch their positions, shoving him against the wall as his face finally disconnected from Barty’s body and his head hit the concrete.

There was blood on Evan’s teeth when he smiled at him. “Sorry, love. Couldn't help it.”

Barty shrugged, his shoulder was stiff, but he paid it no mind. Not when Evan’s naked body was so close to his. Barty dropped to his knees, starting at the hip bones and making his way up, passing his tongue over each of his abs appreciatively, teasing him with his teeth on his nipples, making Evan hiss when Barty bit it.

“You taste so good, babe. Only way to make it better is if it was your blood.”

Evan twirled the knife around his fingers, licking the remaining blood sensually as he tilted his head. “We can always remedy that, sweetheart.”

40 notes · View notes

the-bad-batch-baroness · 8 months

Note

Helloooo, for Drip and Brett please!

🍃: Do they enjoy being in nature? What is their favorite outdoor activity?

🙉: What is the worst thing your oc could hear from someone?

🌍: Will they give up the world for someone they love? Is the decision easy for them?

🍼: What are their thoughts on children?

For two of my precious boys??? Thank you so much for the ask 🥺

🍃: Do they enjoy being in nature? What is their favorite outdoor activity?

Brett: Honestly, there's not much that Brett does enjoy... He'll be a stick in the mud indoors and outdoors. If he does go outside, he wants to be in the shade, because he doesn't like being hot. Ultimately, he prefers rainy days where he doesn't have to go outside. However, if someone *cough cough Tungst* makes a big enough issue out of it, he can be dragged into nature and forced to like it. The only outdoor activity I think he would enjoy is a tactical water gun fight. He will win. Drip: Someone please take this man on picnic in the middle of a meadow and make him a flower crown. Seriously. He loves being outside. The smell of the earth, the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, and the touch of grass all ground him. He will sit outside when the weather is nice and read a book under a tree, while sipping on something cold. He also enjoys playing lawn games with his brothers like frisbee, badminton, cornhole, and other low-key sports.

🙉: What is the worst thing your oc could hear from someone?

Brett: "You hurt me." Despite his resting-b*tch-face demeanor and gruff personality, Brett doesn't enjoy hurting people, especially his partner. All of his relationships are built on trust, open-communication, and loyalty. He specifically puts things in place so that his partner feels safe at all times, and that he never goes too far and hurts them, whether physically, mentally, or emotionally. He would be devastated if he ever hurt his partner to a point where they either left him or shied away from his touch. He would probably vomit out of grief. Drip: "I never loved you." I don't want to say Drip is delicate, but he is a bit fragile, and lacks some levels of confidence in the relationship department. He doesn't cope very well and he constantly second guesses himself due to his raging fears and anxieties. His love language is words of affirmation, and he needs to hear that he's being everything his partner needs him to be. If his partner told him they never loved him, after saying they did, he would lose every shred of confidence he ever had, and he may never try to love again.

🌍: Will they give up the world for someone they love? Is the decision easy for them?

Brett: He would burn it down. All of it. Brett is extremely loyal, whether it's to his brothers, his close friends, or his partner. This man would go to the ends of the earth for someone he loves and kill anyone in his way. This is why Brett is picky with the people in his close circle. He needs to vet them and make sure they are worth his loyalty. Drip: He would struggle, because of his fear that he would give up the world for them, and then they would leave him in the dust. When Drip loves, he loves with his entire being. It's not something he can turn on or off, it's just who he is. It's either all or nothing. For his brothers, he would give up everything in a heartbeat. For his partner, it might take a little convincing.

🍼: What are their thoughts on children?

Brett: Oddly enough, Brett is actually afraid of children and he has no idea why. Deep down inside, he definitely wants one, but he can never wrap his head around the logistics of it, especially considering the type of relationship he's in. It's hard to be a brat-tamer when he has a kid hanging off his leg. I think he's afraid of losing part of his identity and the dynamics of the relationship. He can't just get up at a restaurant to teach his brat a lesson, and leave the kid in the booth alone... I think he would have a mid-life crisis if his partner said they were pregnant. He would be attentive to them, but also afraid to touch them. Drip: He would absolutely love to have kids, but again, his fears and anxieties tell him he wouldn't be a good father. In reality, Drip would be a great dad. He would read his kids bedtime stories, make them pancakes, play with them outside, and do all kinds of other "dad things". If his partner approached him about having a kid, he'd need a little reassurance that he could do it, but he would warm up to it pretty quickly. He'd also be the most doting partner for his pregnant partner. We're talking foot-rubs, massages, body pillows, every book he can find about pregnancy and parenting, taking them to all their check-up appointments, doing all the chores, and fixing up the place in preparation for the baby.

OC Emoji Asks

#tbbb converses #oc: brett #oc: drip #phoenix squad #clone oc #oc sunday #ofc sunday #oc asks

27 notes · View notes

ruthlesslistener · 1 year

Note

I know suicide is the most likely option but I'm a big fan of the idea that PK died via void poisoning. Like I know he was probably smart enough to not let it hurt him in canon but god I find it so funny. Kinda links back to how IRL people desperate to create weapons via radioactive materials often died instead.

AHH I don't know, people characterise pk as a coward (he is) and I worry that people are going with the suicide route because they view it as the cowardly way out. I know people don't intend it that way and I don't intend to accuse anyone of doing so, suicide is just a sore spot for me so it's just a case of personal taste.

I also enjoy interpretations of the shades coming to drag him out of the world of the living. Kinda reminds of a story I read when I was little about a man being pecked to death by a swarm of crows. Get fucked by the consequences old man.

Anyways you know more about PK than I do, to what extent do you believe he practiced lab safety?

I mean, I can certainly see PK being poisoned by the void, but the main reason why I don't think it killed him is because a.) The area around his throne is completely devoid of void, b.) The void close to the throne room is from fallen kingsmoulds, which is inert after they lose shape, c.) The White Palace requires an awoken Dreamnail to enter it to access his hiding place, which we know no other vessels have access to before Ghost, and d.) The Void Sea was unawakened before Ghost entered, and so could not act for itself. There's just no canonical way that PK could have been killed by the void apart from poisoning built-up from exposure, but we see no evidence of that either.

That isn't to say that I'm not fond of the idea of him being void poisoned, however! It's something that I love to play with in my fics, and that I utilize heavily in Until Dawn Shall Break. I think that he took all the precautions necessary when working with void, but since void is an aspect heavily associated with the manifestation of regret, it ended up building up within him despite all his precautions. He was poisoned by his own actions and his own pain building up within him without acknowledging it, and it tainted him and affected every other aspect of his life, even if he didn't intend it (i hc that hornet has a black carapace bc the void affected his genetics, like radiation poisoning). It won't kill him, he's too strong for that, but it sickens him and leaves its taint on others around him

I also never consider suicide to be cowardly, jsyk! I call PK a coward for not facing the Radiance directly, but PK is a creature of logic first and foremost, so it's very likely that he genuinely was incapable of fighting the Radiance without using the void. The reason why I hc him to have committed suicide was because the sheer amount of guilt and pain he felt at the vessel plan being all for naught + losing Hallownest would have been absolutely devestating to him, and that paired with the hc I have of him placing all self-worth into his use as the King of Hallownest means that suicide would have been a form of 'justice' in his eyes- he failed, his worth became moot, he did unmentionable things that he would execute any other being for, and so he ceased to be. It also prevented the Radiance from taking his life in battle and mutilating his corpse, too, so it was a sort of final 'fuck you' to her. Can't win the game if you haven't captured the king.

But yeah overall I see PK's suicide as another aspect of the tragedy of the story- he loved so much, but he thought in extremes, with black-and-white thinking that had rigid rules that could not bend, only break. He loved so much that it killed him, and it killed all his loved ones as well.

#hollow knight #hollow knight headcanons #the pale king #catch me out here using the void as a metaphor for terrible coping mechanisms w/this guy #[slaps pk] he can be such a good metaphor for untreated mental illness and the cycle of abuse and how love means nothing if your love hurts #anon #reply

37 notes · View notes

snakes-writing-corner · 1 year

Text

Fluff Alphabet with Nikei Yomiuri

Request from me! I love this sassy journalist

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

When in public? Not at all, he has trouble showing physical affection or really any affection at all towards you in public since he has a reputation to uphold.

In private though he’s still not the most affectionate person in the world.

He’s not great at physical affection unless he’s feeling particularly bold that day. He’ll mostly compliment you or will let you stay around him for long periods of time.

He does love you he just has a lot of trouble actually genuinely showing it in actions.

He’ll mainly hold your hand, run his fingers through your hair, or hold your face with his right hand.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

Bunch of late nights talking about potential articles and reviewing them.

You’d be his go-to for critiquing his articles before he releases them, and expect to be dragged around to help him get interviews for said articles.

Whether or not you know about the Children of Utsuro or not would entirely depend on how trustworthy Nikei deems you to be, and whether or not he’s willing to let you potentially get hurt.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh absolutely would not, at least not when he’s completely conscious-

He has a streak of staying up way too late working on his articles so you can either leave him be, or literally force him to go to sleep.

If you do manage to pull him away from his work he’ll fall asleep quickly, and will most likely latch onto you in his sleep.

He’ll be a flustered mess in the morning, but he doesn’t hate cuddling.

He’s just not exactly used to physical affection, but might want to lay on your chest on bad days. Really depends.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?)

I don’t think he’s really considered the option of settling down, and if he has he’s not interested in it.

His work can actually be quite dangerous after all, and he’s content in what relationship he currently has with you.

Might consider it in the future though, after he manages to find Utsuro at least.

He’s also not really around your shared apartment often, and when he is most of the time it’s to write up an article. If you do ask him to though he’ll do his best to help you clean up the house and whatnot.

Also he cannot cook for the life of him, he almost burned down the apartment last time.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he were to break up with you it could be a variety of reasons, but he’d most likely do it on accident when his temper got the best of him, or would purposefully do so to try to keep you safe when Mikado becomes leader and the killing game plan starts.

If he does so out of a fit of rage then he most likely would say things he doesn’t actually mean in that moment, and it would come to a boiling point when he says that he never loved you in the first place and are just an annoyance to him.

He would feel incredibly guilty afterwards if he actually lost you and would spiral into self-hatred over it. He’d be an absolute mess.

If it was to try to protect you on the other hand, well he would say similar things if he was enraged but would say it with a cold look on his face. After you leave he’ll most likely have a breakdown, but convince himself it’s for your own good and continue to mask his true emotions.

He doesn’t want you to get hurt and is willing to push you away and make you hate him if it means you’ll get to be alive.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He’s very finicky on commitment.

Don’t get him wrong he absolutely adores you, but he’s built up so many walls that it’s hard for him to actually believe you love him.

You’d have to be with him for a very long time for him to even consider marriage.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Nikei has a tendency to get extremely angry and defensive very easily.

Honestly to be with him romantically, you’ll have to have some tough skin and be willing to take an anger fueled insult and the occasional snide remark. He has walls built up so you’ll have to tear them down slowly.

Further along into the relationship he will try not to insult you and be gentle, but isn’t exactly the best at it, old habits die hard after all.

However, in the rare moments he is physically affectionate he is as gentle as can be in an attempt to make up for it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

He is not exactly a person that receives a lot of hugs and as such doesn’t really give them to you.

If you want to hug him though don’t get him wrong he’ll let you, but he’ll just stand there not knowing what to do.

The only times he does hug you is in a moment of desperation for a variety of reasons, mainly his thoughts getting the best of him.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Good luck with this one mate.

Because this man is never going to say it.

Well, not never but he only will if you’re far into your relationship or at moments where he thinks you won’t hear him say it. Due to his walls he really doesn’t want to admit it out loud to you, but he might just say it when he’s sleepy.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Have you seen Nikei? Of fucking course he gets jealous.

How he acts depends on the person if it’s someone he actually like tolerates like Hajime, Emma, or Iroha, he might just act a little more snarky or on-edge than usual.

If it’s someone he doesn’t know than he’ll get angry and tell them to back the fuck off.

Now if it’s someone like Mikado? You might have to physically hold him back because he will get pissed the hell off and will not be afraid to hold back. My boy will be cursing like a sailor and will act the closest to feral he can get.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

The odds of him just casually kissing you is very slim, but if you ask him or steal one from him, he’s willing to oblige.

His kisses are extremely rough since he likes that feeling of being in control, but if it were up to him he would most likely not kiss you on the lips actually.

He greatly prefers kissing your neck and shoulders maybe leaving marks from time to time.

He adores his right hand kissed specifically, but also likes being kissed on the lips and cheek.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He does not like children like at all so uh-

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Quiet is the best word to describe it.

He’s not a morning person by any means so if you start a conversation with him it’s pretty funny, point it out though and he’ll sleepily sass the hell out of you.

As he slowly wakes up with the help of coffee though it gets better and you two will have a nice conversation, until he eventually leaves in the search of new articles to write.

He’ll be ecstatic if you come with him though, like you’ll genuinely make his entire day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are a lot more chaotic I’ll give you that.

He gets back home around 10 o’ clock at night most of the time, and can pull an all-nighter writing an article.

The odds of you two getting into an argument when you’re trying to get him to sleep is very high. He does know you’re trying to help him, but he is way too stubborn to oblige with your requests without a fight.

Eventually you’ll manage to convince him or will have to bargain with him so he’ll actually sleep, that or you could literally pick him up and drop him on the bed.

Pick your poison honestly either way the night will end with him cuddling you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Considering the amount of walls he’s built up? Yeah that’s not exactly happening at the start, if you want to know more about him a lot of things you’ll find out are from outside sources or from you putting puzzle pieces together.

Nikei is very secretive about a lot of things and you’ll either have to figure it out yourself or play the waiting game.

He would rather tell you himself though so it’s best if you just help break down those walls instead of finding things out that he doesn’t want you to know yet.

Some things he won’t tell you though like the Children of Utsuro or his past, and you’ll have to be okay with that until he’s ready which may take years.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

This is Nikei we’re talking about he can get annoyed or angry at the littlest of things.

You may cause his patience to run thin at times, but he genuinely does love you and if he says something hurtful he doesn’t mean it, it’s just part of those walls.

If he does genuinely hurt your feelings when he gets angry he’ll do anything to make it up to you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Yes.

He has a separate pages in his notes all about little details you’ve told him about yourself.

Your favorite color, food, season, hell even little things like your favorite type of flower! He wants to know anything about you that you’re willing to share with him, and will keep those notes on him for gifts and whatnot.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He doesn’t particularly have one.

Well not exactly a memory, but he does adore how you can be so patient with him. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he’s so grateful for you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

He is very protective and isn’t afraid to be vocal about it.

He’s not exactly the most physical person out there, upper body strength wise, so he wouldn’t be able to put up much of a fight, but I mean he carries a gun on him for a reason.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He does put a lot of effort into physical gifts due to his notes on what you like. It probably won’t be anything too extravagant but you can tell he cares.

Dates with him are mainly walks around the park, cafe dates, library dates, or stargazing. Very small things for the most part but you both enjoy it.

Might take you to like an actual restaurant for anniversaries though, or will go out of his way to spend the day with you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His temper and insecurity complex can and most likely will drive rifts in your relationship from time to time.

He’s used to pushing people away and unfortunately you’re no exception at times.

He can say things he doesn’t mean often and can unintentionally come of as apathetic and spiteful towards you without thinking.

His insecurity complex can also lead to him getting a high when he feels like he’s in control of you, and can get very easily carried away to the point he can accidentally physically harm you.

You might have to set boundaries with him and stick to them, which he’ll agree to.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

A little, he at least wants to look presentable to you at all times.

However it’s not enough to where he’ll make a huge deal out of it.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He would, you’re one of the few people who’s managed to see past his walls and would be absolutely devastated if he lost you.

If you did leave him on bad terms or worse died, his walls would go back up ten-fold and he’d be even more prickly than he already is. He’d most likely never get over you.

X = Xtra (Random HC)

Probably would teach you how to use a gun if you don’t already know how to use one.

He wants you to be able to protect yourself if you insist on coming along with him for his interviews.

Y = You (How would they talk about you?)

It is literally so obvious to everyone else that he fucking adores you.

You are like the only person he genuinely will talk positively about without trying to lie and everyone can tell.

Mikado would definitely make fun of him for it, no I will not elaborate.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

I imagine he talks in his sleep.

That and he tends to cling to you in his sleep, most of the time ending up on your chest or accidentally becoming the big spoon.

Might also end up in the vice versa situation with you on his chest or becoming the big spoon.

Either way he’s internally screaming when he wakes up from being way too flustered.

#nikei yomiuri #sdra2 nikei #sdra2 x reader #nikei yomiuri x reader #fluff alphabet

76 notes · View notes

vote-gaara · 6 months

Text

The Sands of Time: Gaara's Story (Chapter 2)

Read Chapter One Here Read on AO3

Chapter Summary: Gaara and his siblings have surprisingly been promoted to chunin after their failed attack on The Leaf Village, but that's hardly a reason to celebrate. Gaara feels listless and sad, not knowing how to reincorporate himself back into the world he tried for years to shut himself out of. Thankfully his sister seems - at least a little - receptive to him, and with the upcoming annual Chunin Party, maybe Gaara can finally become accepted by his village. Meanwhile, the sand siblings' promotion had stirred up conflict in one of Suna's founding tribes. Will this spell trouble for The Sand Village and for Gaara? Will be finally get a friend???? (probably not) Enjoy! Words: 2126

Warnings: Sad Gaara, Rasa mention (cause he SUCKS)

Author's Notes: This took me a long time to publish because I am an idiot (no other reason).THERE ARE NO ORIGINAL CHARACTERS IN THIS CHAPTER.

Chapter Two: Eldest Sister

The morning sun had come over the golden horizon, pushing away the shadows of the night and banishing all the desert’s nocturnal creatures back into their lairs.

Gaara, too, returned to his home upon the sun's arrival, though it wasn’t the fear of the heat that bothered him much. Being born in the desert, he was used to it now - perhaps even built for it. Rather, his retreat inside was to avoid the villagers who were beginning to stir within the streets, chatting happily amongst themselves as they went about their day; a ritual Gaara found he hadn’t much use for, and which the villagers had no use for him, either.

After his defeat in his fight against Uzumaki Naruto, Gaara found himself floating around in a listless limbo. He had seen the strength one could gain in friendship and in the sheer determination to protect others, but the concept still felt foreign and hopeless to him, like a desert mirage that could never really be touched.

With some bitterness, Gaara observed that every day that had passed since he had returned to his village from The Leaf, he had been suffering from a deep, unceasing ache in his heart. Of course, this ache had always been present in his life, but it had been lessened by his radical sense of self preservation: To kill everyone that he deemed similar to himself so that he may feel truly alive. Of course, it may have been a flawed concept, but the hatred kept him buoyant against the waves of the world’s ocean which had been desperately trying to drag him down to the darkness, into the depths, where he could be forgotten about in time.

Now with nothing to cling to, Gaara desperately needed an ally, yet the outside world didn’t change for Gaara. People still avoided him, and he was aware of the hatred in their eyes and in their voices when they were forced to interact with him.

It wasn’t as simple as saying to them, “I’ve changed, please forgive me.” People don’t forgive that easily, and that’s even without the difficult fact that some of the villagers had a personal scorn against Gaara. There were some people in the village who had suffered directly at his hands; perhaps he had injured them or someone they loved, or maybe Gaara was the reason that there would forever be a cold and empty seat at their dinner tables where a loved one used to place themselves.

Even to those who hadn’t suffered from his chaos, there were those who were wary of him out of caution. Rumors spread around the village, seeping into every crevice and home, just like the very sand that coated the land and wherever these grains landed, truth or exacerbated, they were swept up by the villagers and carried around as amulets of protection.

“If I just stay away from him, I’ll be safe!”

It wasn’t fair, but it was just the way things were in that desert, in that space and time and existence that Gaara occupied.

“Perhaps those troubles were for another time”, Gaara decided as he skulked down the vast halls of the estate, heading towards his living quarters so that he could once again take refuge in his room. He needed to think some more, to form a plan and to learn how it would be possible for him to connect to the people of his village.

Gaara turned the corner to see Temari coming down the hallway towards him. Neither of them were surprised to see each other as they had been aware of each other’s presence the entire time. Having the training of a Shinobi offered certain benefits to the five senses. A ninja could keenly interpret their surroundings outside of that of a normal person, and that was even if the ninja wasn’t a sensory type.

“Good morning, Gaara.” Temari greeted him. Her voice was polite and conjuling, with her familiar submissive lilt used specifically towards him.

Neither of Gaara’s siblings had treated him any differently since their return, mostly because Gaara hadn’t seen much of them. Typically both of them avoided him at all costs, but whilst Temari tried her best to appease him when she had to face him, Kankuro usually had the nerve to pick fights and speak his mind, but that was when they crossed paths. Gaara had been strangely excited about the prospects of encountering Kankuro in one of these interactions and to show that he could handle them differently without threatening to kill him, but Kankuro seemed to have had very similar ideas as his younger brother as he, too, had rooted himself in his room and only left for the bare necessities.

Temari passed Gaara without another word, but he had paused to watch her go. “Temari…” He offered quietly, his voice sounded rusty and dull. Temari froze midstep, her entire body ridgid as she slowly turned around to look at him.

“Yes, Gaara?” She asked, still with the politeness and still with the lilt.

“What…” Gaara started, his brain was desperately trying to grasp some form of question for her, or perhaps something of interest to say, and yet he had nothing to offer. His mind was as dry as the vast dunes outside the village. “How…are you?” He asked clumsily, aware that his question lacked any indication of curiosity. Instead, it had some sort of an estimation type quality, like the tone used to caution a guess while answering a difficult question.

“Um…Fine,” Temari cautioned, puzzled by her brother’s uncharacteristic banter. “And you, Gaara?”

“Fine…” He said slowly, unable to look up at his sister.

“Good,” Temari said, “That’s good.”

“Yes…”

The two lingered a moment longer, both itching to remove themselves from the situation but not quite knowing how. It was Temari who spoke first.

“Well, I better be going, I’m training today.”

“Yes,” Gaara agreed, “I understand.” He turned away from her and continued down the hallway, hearing as her steps also picked up. Gaara was just about at the end of the hallway when he heard his sister call out once more.

“Oh and Gaara?” He turned around to look at her, surprised to see a small smile on her face. It wasn’t one that was strained and it didn’t look forced. “If you need to talk, just let me know. I’m open to it anytime.”

With that she turned and strode away, leaving Gaara in utter speechlessness.

***

“The decision of the council is as shortsighted as it is disappointing. I had expected more from you, Joseki.” Tobacco smoke swirled around the dim room. A large, round man was sitting, cross-legged on a thickly padded cushion. His clothes were well-made, crafted with threads from far-off exotic lands, and he donned his tribe’s symbol on a beaded necklace among other trinkets. Bringing his pipe to his mouth, the man took a deep inhale, the orange glow of the tobacco embers lighting his face, of which his features were sullen and unhappy. “You have displeased me, greatly.”

“Lord Kōji, I have done all that you asked of me, but the council’s first priority is to safeguard the village.” Joseki, as old as he was, sat kneeling across from the large man. Though his shoulders were tense, his demeanor was assured. “The majority ruled.”

“The majority of the council flounders and buckles at any conflict that arises. When will the elders understand that all of their quick-fix strategies are what’s corrupting Sunagature?” Kōji growled. “My tribe has sacrificed good men and women, honorable shinobi, to this village and yet still we do not get a say in the affairs the council discusses. The Sand would be nothing without the Tsunzu tribe.”

Joseki allowed his head to bow respectfully in front of the tribe’s leader, but he frowned deeply. “Though Lord Fourth’s children acted irresponsibly during their mission in The Leaf, they are skilled shinobi…” Joseki trailed off, he thought of Gaara and scowled. “Lord Gaara is a concern, but his powers may still benefit the village, and Lord Kankuro and Lady Temari have acted honorably.”

Kōji spat out an incredulous laugh. “I will never see Rasa as Kazekage! His promotion was another ill-conceived scheme. Had Lord Third returned, he would have laughed in Rasa’s face.” Kōji coughed horsley, mumbling under his breath in disgust, “Gold dust…Pathetic.”

“I see there is nothing else for us to discuss,” Joseki concluded, his limbs shaking slightly with strain as he got to his feet. “I have done all you have asked of me. I had advocated on behalf of your concerns, but I must insist that the majority ruled when we elected to promote Lord Fourth’s children.” Joseki turned to leave the room, but stopped when Kōji spoke one more time.

“Those words,” Kōji growled, his eyes glinting like licks of fire, “are a declaration of war.”

“What do you mean?” Joseki demanded, outraged.

“You will see,” Kōji warned, “how Sunagature will thrive without the talents and hardwork of the Tsunzu tribe. Which is more valuable to you: gold dust, or water?”

***

Gaara’s room was dark. He had turned on his lights and climbed into bed to reflect, but he found even in his empty room, the brightness of the overhead light made him feel exposed; and so Gaara now lay with his thoughts in the darkness.

Though it may be like torture to the average person, Gaara was used to spending time laying idle, as sleep was not something he had the luxury of practicing. In this time of stillness, he allowed his eyes to close, his mind to ease and he crept into his own form of sleep - or perhaps meditation would’ve been a more appropriate term.

Suddenly he stirred, bolting upright as a sudden thought drove him to action. Peering at his calendar, he noted the date.

“The first of September.”

It was a date that Gaara knew of, but it had absolutely no meaning to him up until that very moment. It was the date of the annual Chunin Party; a time where newly graduated Chunin got together for the last night of irresponsible fun before becoming more serious in their careers…Or supposedly.

In reality, the annual Chunin Party was more of a popularity contest. The name was simply historical, dating back to the year where a record number of Suna ninja were promoted during the Chunin Exams, and who had decided to celebrate their collective victory with an all-night party. The story went that so many individuals were invited, that every ninja in the village had attended that first year. Now it had become an open event where ninjas of all ranks attended - and even those who weren’t ninjas at all. It was as simple as being invited and showing up for the fun.

Gaara had never gone to any of these parties before and he was suddenly allured by it, like he had been bewitched somehow. It may have been a foolish thought, but he reasoned that if he could just show up to the party, perhaps people could see that he had changed - Perhaps even he could even make a friend!

Though now he was struck by an obvious obstacle: The invitation.

Gaara had never been invited to the Chunin Party, and if he were to be honest with himself, he never really desired one up until that moment, and so just as rapidly as the idea came, it caved in on itself. Gaara reasoned that if he showed up invitation-less, they would simply allow him to waltz in out of fear, but for some reason that felt cheap and empty. If he was meant to go, the reason would be legitimate and intentional.

Sighing, Gaara stepped away from his calendar and glanced miserably around his room. “There’s just no use,” He thought as his eyes landed on his window. He could see now that the sky was beginning to darken as the day came to a close, and with a deep, sad inhale, he left his room to haunt the rapidly emptying streets of his village.

***

In the hallway Gaara encountered Temari again; her clothes dusty from her day of training. She greeted him kindly again, but this time her voice had taken on a more sincere quality than her usual lilt.

“Hello, Gaara.”

Gaara nodded at her, turning away from her almost on muscle memory but then something else took hold of him. “Temari…”

“Yes?” She was still slightly guarded, but her demeanor was more relaxed. The next sentence out of Gaara’s mouth surprised and startled both of them.

“Could I…Come to the party?”

“Oh!” Temari exclaimed, her eyes widening and Gaara could see in them her mind was reeling.

“...Oh!”

#tsot #Gaara #Temari #Kankuro #Naruto #Kazekage #Baki #Sunagature #suna #gaara of the sand #Gaara x oc #naruto fanfiction #plothole fill #patching canon

9 notes · View notes