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#they posted when it was like 3am my time so it ended up slipping my mind
sekaiichis · 2 years
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Emerald Summer Issue 2022 will be released on August 30th, 2022. It will include a chapter of Junjou Romantica and an unspecified chapter of Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi.
The appendix this issue will be a slide zipper pouch decorated with Junjou and Sekai-ichi mascots!
Link to pre-order included in the reblogs.
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florencemtrash · 4 months
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The Ballad of the Shadowsinger
Azriel x Reader Oneshot
“Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.” The Shadowsinger said, “Because I’m waiting to die.”
Warnings: ANGST with a happy ending, mentions of attempted SA and suicidal ideation (they're very brief, but please do read with caution)
Author's note: I finished this at 3am last night and I think it's pretty apparent... buuuuuut I'm going to post it anyway. Enjoy...
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The Shadowsinger arrived one winter night, curling into existence on the border of town like cream through coffee. Jadhan was only a boy at the time - painfully human with a broken leg that had never healed properly. The Midlands were a terrible place for a child to grow up - a place where the only thing more unstable than the ground was its sense of safety.
But things changed when the Shadowsinger arrived, bringing with him gold and the brutal violence required to scare off the bandits and murders that slipped in from the nearby Lordship. And when the Lord came for the Shadowsinger’s head, it was the fae male was the one who walked away from the fight. Except it wasn’t a fight. It was a slaughter.
Jadhan was thirty-seven now with three young boys that had come in a cluster, forcing their way into the world one after another. Sasha had never been quite pleased with him for that, but her love for her sons and her husband outweighed the pain and hardship in the end. 
The boys - Mikhail, Alzhar, and Zhik - ran around the tavern, ducking beneath tables and barstools while their height still allowed it. The Shadowsinger watched them with the faintest of smiles as they clambered about, begging for more attention from his shadows. 
There was little known about the Shadowsinger this deep into the Continent, but whispers still passed through the mouths of travelers at the inn. The most common piece of gossip was that he was a Prythian outlaw - banished to the Continent after attempting to kill his Lord. Jadhan didn’t know - and he figured he would never find out. 
The Shadowsinger was so quiet that no one even knew his real name. They all called him Shadowsinger - Shadow for short. He disappeared into the woods at night and stalked into town come morning, but give a shout at any time and he would be there, flying overhead like a black stormcloud. 
“On the house, Shadow.” Jadhan said, dropping the glass onto the sticky counter. Whisky neat, two fingers - just the way he liked it. 
The Shadowsinger picked it up, swirling the amber liquid around like he hoped it would start talking to him, “You say that every night.”
“That’s because a free drink is the least I could get you.” Jadhan tipped his head towards the rickety stage where the local songbirds were setting up. The singer, Phaedra, had her eyes on Shadow, sending love and gratitude his way like a flood, “Phaedra’s been telling everyone what you did for her. You know, with the Morois boy.” 
Shadow grimaced, taking his first sip. He grimaced again. The whiskey was home-brewed and tasted like it. Everyone in town said a shot of the stuff could kill a man, but Shadow was hardly a man, and more shadow than fae.
Lev Morois had had his eyes on Phaedra for a while now. And he didn’t like to be denied anything, especially women. Normally he traveled to the Lordship for his fill, and he would have been better off going there last night. Instead he’d forced his way into Phaedra’s home… and Shadow had made sure he’d never be able to hurt a woman like that ever again. 
“How old are your boys now, Jadhan?” His voice was deep and smoky.
The trio neared closer, as if they knew they’d been summoned. The eldest, Mikhail, nearly crashed into the countertop, forgetting he had to bend down now. A tendril of black shadow shot out, muffling the blow and corralling him back out onto the open dancefloor with the rest of the children. 
Jadhan sighed and rubbed at a burned spot on the counter, “Too old, and growing faster than weeds.” 
It was a sweet pain for Azriel to see the three brothers romping around. It was almost winter and soon enough they’d be wrestling in the frosted fields, shoving snow down each other’s shirts, and hurling it at each other's heads. 
When was the last time he’d seen his brothers? Cassian had stopped by twenty-five years ago, shocked and scared to see Azriel looking so wretched. The next time Azriel’s shadows had warned him, and they’d sent Cassian away.
Rhysand was a different story… he’d never forgiven Azriel for what he’d done - and rightfully so - but that didn’t make the pain any easier to swallow. That didn’t make Azriel miss them any less.
He tossed the rest back and, to Jadhan’s surprise, he let the barkeep refill it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Phaedra’s voice crooned over the crowd, settling over drunk men and women like a warm blanket until it was time for their sober partners to drag them home. Those who were alone either settled into the hard booths for a nap or resigned themselves to a stumble home in the dark. They’d all make it to their beds in the end - The Shadowsinger would see to that.
He dropped a gold coin onto the counter - triple what the night’s libations actually cost. It was the briefest of stumbles that had Jadhan gripping onto the male’s shoulder and forcing him back into his seat. 
Azriel wasn’t drunk. It would take an ocean of human liquor to get a fae drunk and then some. But he was starting to feel something.
“I got a pinch of ambrose from a merchant passing through.” Shadow’s eyes snapped up to Jadhan, who only raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, hey, hey, I know you don’t drink my whiskey for the taste, so I thought I'd put something in there to remind you of home. Something to loosen you up like liquor is supposed to.” 
The Shadowsinger winced at that word: Home.
“Very well.” He said.
The boys had gone home with Sasha hours ago, and without them running about with their usual compatriots, the tavern seemed dull. Now was no longer the time for dancing and riotous laughter. Now was the time for the sad drunks and those who didn’t want to go home.
But Azriel wasn’t drunk and he desperately wanted to go home.
It was the shame that kept him rooted to the stool like a stubborn weed… that and Rhysand’s promise that if he ever laid eyes on Azriel again, he’d rip the wings off his back. 
Jadhan seemed to understand that about him, leaning over the counter on sturdy arms thick as tree trunks. His leg was still lame, always had been and always would be, but that had never held him back much.
“What’re you doing here, Shadow?”
His hazel eyes flickered up. 
“What’s it been? Twenty-five years you’ve been in town now?”
“Thirty. Exactly.” 
So that was why the Shadowsinger had drank so much that night. It was to commemorate the sad, terrible anniversary of his banishment to the Midlands.
“Don't you think that's long enough? I don’t mean any offense, but don't you have anywhere else to go? Friends? Family?”
The male gritted his teeth and Jadhan had the sinking feeling he'd just poked the bear.
“I thought I was wanted here.” 
“Of course you are. Hell, we’d all be dead or piss poor if it weren’t for you.” Jadhan shook his head, “I don’t know what you’re running from - if you’re a thief, a murderer, a treasonous bastard or all of the above-” 
Shadow flinched, actually flinched, and Jadhan knew it was all of the above.
“But whatever it is,” He continued, “I think you’ve made up for it.” 
Azriel stilled, shadows continuing to swirl around the wet, empty glass in front of him.
How he wished those words were true, but only a human would think thirty years was a long time. They were nothing if not optimistic.
“No. I haven’t.” Shadow said flatly. Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until Jadhan finally sighed and went to clear the glass.
“I had a mate.” He whispered the words so quietly, Jadhan almost didn’t hear him. 
His thick eyebrows disappeared into his receding hairline. He didn’t know much about fae customs and the ones he did know about were often violent, strange, or both… usually both. But he had a great deal of respect for mating bonds and understood they were prized above all else to fae.
“Had?” 
Shadow’s lips flattened into a thin line and Jadhan could have sworn his eyes began to brim with years. 
The Shadowsinger nodded stiffly.
“Dead?”
Shadow gritted his teeth and nodded once more, wings drooping low enough to brush against the sawdust packed floor.
Jadhan sighed so deeply he seemed to shrink into himself, and Azriel was once again struck by how quickly humans aged.
Silver streaks were already beginning to color his temples and his leg was getting stiffer and stiffer each day. It wouldn't be long until he was forced to swallow his pride and buy a cane like Sasha had been suggesting.
It seemed like just yesterday Jadhan had limped his way into the woods, calling out for the Shadowsinger with a copper coin clenched in his fist and a bargain to make. 
Kill my father, and I will do anything you ask of me. Anything at all.
There had been such determination in the little boy’s body that Azriel hadn’t hesitated to fold his small fingers back over the coin and then do what he had been told… to do what he’d always been told to do. 
“I’m sorry, Shadow.” He shook his graying hair, “I’m so sorry.” 
Azriel grimaced, fists tightening until they turned pale, “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t you dare.”
He frowned, “And why not?”
The Shadowsinger stilled and got quiet again, “Because it was my fault. I killed her.” 
Jadhan, for all his mortal naivete, didn’t look surprised at his answer. He only twisted his mouth to the side in thought before asking once again, "Why are you here, Shadow? Why don't you leave?"
Azriel looked at him, hazel eyes filled with despair.
He would never tell Jadhan this, but he’d always been envious of humans for one thing - they could die of old age. They could be killed easily. So easily that all it would take was one flick of Azriel's wrist and Jadhan would be no more.
Fae were not so easy to kill, and their only end was a violent one. Maybe that was why Rhys had banished him to the middle of the Continent where life was harsh but simple, and fae were nowhere to be found.
No one here was strong enough to kill him. Azriel would know - he’d spent the first five years on the Continent searching for a way to die and getting into so many bloodbaths it had lost its luster.
“Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.” The Shadowsinger said, “Because I’m waiting to die.” 
___
There were many reasons Azriel built his house in the woods. Firstly, he liked the privacy Secondly, when the nightmares came, there was no telling the damage he could do. 
Tonight’s dreams were especially violent and cruel to him. 
Elain appeared before him, sweet and delicate as a dove and despite knowing better, he couldn’t help but follow her into the darkness like a fly to a carnivorous flower. It wasn’t her fault - he should have known better than to drag them both into this mess. She’d been reckless, hungry for some semblance of control in this new and strange world, and he had been all too willing to play the role of the selfless knight. 
When she kissed him it felt wrong, but like every other night, he was too powerless to push away. This was how it had happened, and there was no changing that.
She whispered against his lips, “Thank you for coming for me.” 
Azriel’s stomach twisted, because two people had gone on the mission into Beron’s lair, and two people had come out. Azriel had wrapped his arms around Elain’s silky body after saving her, and left you behind.
He followed Elain further, chasing her shimmering pink skirts onto the Autumn Court battlefield where she dove into the grasses and disappeared. 
This was where it truly went wrong. 
He caught sight of you on the hill, blood blooming like roses from where the ash arrows pierced your flesh. Your wings were gone and you leaned too far backward, still feeling their phantom weight against your back. That was what it had taken to bring you down. That was what it had taken for Beron to break you.
It was like a bolt of lightning running through his body when the bond snapped into place. Your bruised eyes shot open and you fought against the chains, horror freezing your heart. 
Azriel would know, because he felt it all.
“AZ! NO!” 
Beron’s ax caught the light as it came down on your neck and this wonderful thing he’d dreamt about for over five hundred years was snatched away from him. 
Azriel shot up in bed, skin slick and suffocating under the blankets. He kicked them off his body, taking big, desperate gulps of air as his stomach and shadows settled down. 
He rubbed his chest, feeling that hollow space where the bond used to be. 
He’d had you for less than a minute… he should have had an eternity with you. You should have had an eternity with all of them. 
On the day you died, Rhys and Cassian had also lost a sister. Feyre and Nesta had lost a best friend. Cassian may have been quick to forgive him, but Rhys could never. He’d already lost one sister. Nothing could have prepared him to lose you too. 
Shadows swarmed around him and he already knew his powers had wrecked the roof once again. Moonlight streamed through the newly made hole in the ceiling, pooling around his shaking form. He imagined it was the Mother staring down at him with her unblinking eye. Disappointed. Angry. 
The mating bond had been utterly wasted on him. 
“I’m-I’m sorry, Y/n.” He gasped out, trembling. He wrapped his wings around his shaking shoulders, as if that would be enough to shield him from what he’d done. 
Once again he was that little boy trapped in the cellar. Abandoned. Unloved. Alone. But this time he deserved it.  
“Please. Please.” He begged. He begged for the madness to take him. He begged for an end to his eternal life. 
“I want to come home.” He sobbed. “Please. I want to come home.”
You stood before him at the foot of the bed - a vision that had arrived three days after coming to the Midlands and never left. You looked at him sadly, your white dress hanging still despite the breeze that flowed through the room. But you didn’t say a word. You didn’t say anything at all. 
___
Jadhan was fifty-five now. The Shadowsinger still came to the tavern every night, drank his whiskey on the house, and left once the songs were over. 
Mikhail had left at eighteen, chasing after opportunities on the edge of the Continent. Zhik had died the year before - the youngest and the weakest of the trio. Not even the Shadowsinger could fight the cold that came for him in the Winter and stole him away before Spring. 
Now it was Alzhar and Jadhan that ran the tavern. Alzhar who poured the Shadowsinger his drinks.
“On the house.” He said, sliding the glass along the countertop. Whiskey. Two fingers. Just how the Shadowsinger liked it. 
“Thanks, Alzhar.” He raised the glass in the air before tossing it back in one shot, grimacing. Either he was getting older, or the whiskey had gotten worse. 
Snow flurried past the windows, more rain than anything else. 
“Happy Solstice day.” The Shadowsinger said with the faintest of smiles. 
“Happy Solstice day.” 
It was no grand holiday in the Midlands, and it certainly could never hold a candle to the festivities that were going on in Velaris, but still, Azriel would take whatever comfort he could get. 
Phaedra had quietly retired from singing, opting to strum along with her guitar in the background. But her daughter led the band now, a vibrant star in the midst of these quiet lands with a smoky voice that was only rivaled by her mother. 
“Happy Solstice day, everyone!” The tavern-goers cheered and a new generation of children shrieked from their spots closest to the stage. “Now I know it’s not looking too great outside, but we all know what dear old, Phaedra says.” 
“Are you calling me old, Miss Devra?” Phaedra hollered, red painted lips turned down in a frown. 
“I’m calling you a dear, Mama. You’re still as young as a rosebud in April.”
“That’s right!” Alzhar whooped. Phaedra winked and blew her future son-in-law a kiss.
Devra’s smile was positively radiant, “Alright, alright well whatever. She says daisies look brightest when they’re down in the shits, but that’s not really the most appetizing turn of phrase now is it?” 
Everyone erupted in a mixture of laughter and cheer.
“Come on now, Dev.” Alzhar called out, “You’ve kept us waiting long enough. Sing!”
She rolled her eyes playfully, “Well since you asked so kindly,” She cleared her throat and began to croon,
“When my mama first warned me you’ve got trouble on your tail, I told her foxes are quick runners and my heart ain’t just for sale. I won’t be wooed by sweet flowers or sugar tea on ice, I just want someone who’ll love me and who’ll never think twice. I’ve-”
The tavern door burst open, letting in a howling blast of night-chilled air tinged with rain and frost. Everyone cringed back except Shadow, clutching at their thick coats and gasping at the sight of the being that came in from the darkness.
The female was anything but cold with her shining, warm eyes and radiant skin. She glowed like she'd been brushed with an otherworldly glimmer. She was sunlight shooting through crystal. 
Dev stopped singing immediately, her hands slipping from the worn out strings with a strangled thrum.
The Shadowsinger stumbled, actually stumbled, to his feet, and the world seemed to fall silent.
Shadows shot out towards her, curling around her legs and licking the hem of her midnight blue coat. She was the moonlit darkness given form, delicate and fierce at the same time. 
“Azriel.” She breathed out, finally giving a name to the nameless fae. “Azriel.” She repeated, still in disbelief.
The Shadowsinger - Azriel - walked forward without a sound, his scarred hands shaking at his sides.
She looked ready to throw her arms around him. Whether it was to embrace him or strangle him was yet to be seen.
Before she could make a move or say anything further, he dropped to his knees, head bowed and trembling. He swallowed thickly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor between her feet like he was scared to even look at her straight on.
If he had been looking at her, he would have seen the horrified shock that parted her lips and widened her eyes.
He pulled out that sleek obsidian blade he carried with him everywhere. The knife seemed to hum, the silent sound reverberating through the room and causing the air above it to warp.
Everyone knew that that knife was as much a part of him as his wings. But he held it out to her now like an offering, wings stretching open so that everyone could see the orange glow of the fire through the thin membrane, and the tendons that flowed through them like rivers.
Alzhar looked to his father in confusion. Was this some fae custom he wasn't aware of? Should they all be bowing to her? Perhaps she was their queen.
But his father only let out a slow breath, shoulders sinking down.
The Shadowsinger was the picture of reverent misery, and he would let her take whatever she wanted for her revenge.
His wings.
His life.
Anything...
Because I’m waiting for my mate to call me home.
That was what the Shadowsinger had revealed to him years ago, and Jadhan had never forgotten it. 
Because I’m waiting to die.
Her beautiful face crumpled, then turned resolute. She ignored the blade, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and hauling him up to his feet. Azriel’s eyes blew open in surprise.
“You bastard. You absolute bastard.” She said, her silky voice shaking, “I’ve been looking for you for years.” 
“Y/n,” Azriel whispered reverently, “I-” 
She slammed her lips against his, swallowing whatever desperate apology had been about to escape his mouth.
The Shadowsinger froze, then slowly melted into her touch, wrapping his arms around her waist so tightly it was a miracle her ribs didn’t snap. Shadows swirled around the pair in a perfect mixture of light and dark - like moonlight bleeding through winter clouds. 
No one in the tavern could stand to look away. They were absolutely transfixed. Some great power was moving in the world and they could feel it. Magic or not, it demanded to be felt.
When the two fae finally pulled away from each other, gasping for breath, something in the earth seemed to crack open and shake the ground, releasing pressure that had been building for hundreds and hundreds of years. 
Tears slipped out of her eyes, salty and not entirely unwelcome. 
“Oh, Az.” She whispered, cradling his face with one hand and clutching her chest with the other. The Shadowsinger was weeping now, curling into her like a vine seeking sunlight, “How could I have forgotten this?”
He buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of elderflower and mountain pine like a man starved. His shadows grew around him, thick and powerful. And before anyone could even let out a strangled gasp, they disappeared with a whisper of smoke and shadow.
You reappeared in darkness, holding Azriel’s shaking body against you like an anchor to a ship. 
“I’m here, Az. I’m here.” You gently shushed him, tangling your fingers through his hair.
You scanned the room finding nothing but a rickety bed and a dresser in the corner by way of furniture, and a small pile of firewood against the wall.
Moonlight streamed in through the roof and you held out a hand, latching onto the rays and weaving them together so tightly they filled the room with a silver glow. 
“Az.” You whispered, all your attention turned back on him, on your mate. "Az." You gently shook him, pressing fervent kisses to his temple until he finally lifted his eyes.
Azriel looked exhausted, purple bruises shading the hollows beneath his gorgeous eyes. 
“How-” Azriel gasped, “How is this-” 
“Bryaxis brought my body to the Cauldron.” You finished, equally out of breath, “It took him years to put me back together but… he did it. He did it, Az.” 
Azriel closed his eyes, sinking to his knees. This time you let him fall. And you fell with him, climbing into his lap so he could bury his face in your wind-swept hair. 
Home.
You smelled like home to him.
“Promise me." He begged, "Promise me you’re real, Y/n. Please, promise me. I’ll-I'll do anything." He could feel you on the other end of the bond, your heart pulsing and alive. But… he didn’t know if he'd be able to survive if he woke in the morning to find that this was all some terribly perfect dream.
“I’m here, Az. I’m here.” You replied thickly, “I’m here and I’m whole.” You tugged off your coat, throwing it somewhere behind you, and pulled down the neck of your sweater. A thick line of scar tissue wrapped around your throat, one of the many physical reminders of the horrors Beron had put you through. 
Azriel stilled, one hand daring to trace the pale flesh with a feather-light touch. “I… I did this.” 
“No...No.” You whispered, brushing away the moisture that had collected on his cheeks, “You didn’t do this, Az.”
“I left you behind.” His voice broke. “I took Elain and I left you behind. Y/n, I’m so sorry. Please, I’m so sorry.” 
You flinched and closed your eyes. It was one of your worst memories to date - the sight of Azriel’s broken face as the first ash arrow caught you in the back and brought you to the ground. The second was what had done you in, piercing through the membrane of your wings and digging into the ground, pinning you there.
Azriel had only gripped Elain’s golden form closer to his body. He could only fly one of you out, and in that moment he had made his choice and leapt into the sky. 
Azriel felt your emotion through the bond and desperation flooded his system once again. 
He couldn’t lose you. Not again. Not like this. Not when he had so much to make up for. 
“I know what I did, Y/n. I know it was unforgivable, but I swear to you I will do anything you ask. Whatever it takes. If you’ll just give me a chance, I- ”
“Shhhhhhh.” You shook your head, pressing your finger to his lips and silencing him. “I forgive you, Az.” You said, cupping his face.
He immediately leaned into your touch, craving the feeling of your soft skin against his.
“I don’t-I don't want to think about that anymore. Trust me, I’ve spent the last half a century agonizing over it.” You said, smiling without humor.
His hands rubbed up and down your back, tracing the ruined remnants of your wings and silently begging you to explain.
You hesitated, collecting your words and speaking them carefully, “I would have come sooner but… I was so scared and confused about everything. My body didn’t feel like mine anymore without my wings with-'' Your hand flew up to your throat on instinct. 
Azriel gently pulled your fingers away, kissing the pads of your fingertips all the way to your palm, and then your wrist. His lips brushed against the pulsing vein as soft as a feather. It was such a small point of contact, but it grounded you to reality.
 “I couldn’t remember anything. It was like… like I was starting from scratch. Building my life from the ground up.”
Azriel repeated the gesture with your other hand, soft lips skimming over your skin until you shivered, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” He whispered softly, “I should have been there.” 
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have known.” 
You looked at him for a long time, drinking in the sight of him and refamiliarizing yourself with his face. He did the same with you.
He looked tired and thinner than you remembered, the elegant planes of his face now harsh and sharp. But buried beneath all those years of loneliness, he was still there - your Azriel. The male who never did anything in half-measures. The male who couldn’t help but make some of the most impulsive decisions you’d ever seen in your life, and also some of the most careful. 
Gods, you’d missed him.
You'd missed talking to him and laughing with him. You'd missed the simple joy of being in his presence and the way that the world seemed to fall with hush whenever he entered a room.
“I came for you as soon as I remembered.” You brushed a strand of inky black hair from his forehead, and then flicked him. Hard. “But you just had to go and disappear on the Continent without a trace.” 
That wasn’t completely true. He’d left bloody, brutal footprints for a while, but those had dried up too quickly. 
The smile Azriel gave was weak and dull, but it was a start, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Y/n.” 
“That’s alright." You murmured against his lips before kissing him, "You can make it up to me.” 
Azriel’s heart leapt in his chest, and the bond responded in kind, singing louder than a choir of a thousand songbirds. Even after all this time, even after everything, the Shadowsinger hoped. 
“Y/n-” That light began to dim, hateful voices whispering in his ear that he was unworthy of you, that he would destroy this chance at happiness just as swiftly as he’d done the first time, that he would ruin it all, “I don’t deserve-”
“Stop it, Az.” Your words were soft but commanding, “I don’t care about what you think you deserve or don’t deserve. I want you. I want my best friend back. I want you back.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I want you back in Velaris, and if it turns out I’m still pissed at you for everything, we’ll figure it out, ok?” 
You took a shaky breath and Azriel looked up at you in awe. He gathered you in his arms and captured your lips in a softer, more gentle kiss. A kiss that said, I’m tired. I’m so so tired and for the first time in my life I’m going to force the voices that tell me terrible things to be silent.
And it worked for a spell, but Azriel was pulling away again, looking guilty. 
“Rhys-”
“I’ve already handled Rhys.” 
His brow arched up every so slightly. Your guilty eyes flitted to the side.
You loved Rhys like a brother, and you fought with him like siblings do. That was why the last thing you'd done before leaving Velaris was force him to lift the banishment... and then you'd punched him in the face.
“I wasn’t exactly happy with him when I found out he banished you to the Continent. And to the Midlands too. I’ve heard it’s terribly boring here.” 
Azriel smiled, and this time it was a genuine one full of love and relief, “Everywhere is terribly boring without you. And terribly painful.” 
“That’s a very good answer.” You replied, feeling that a great weight had been lifted off your chest.
He held you in a gentle caress, tracing your brow bone and the curve of your lips and committing the feeling of you to memory.
This was real. This was real. This was real.
You both folded in on each other like paper houses laid to rest, until you were tangled up on the floor. There was a perfectly functional bed not even four feet away, but even that seemed like too much effort after everything that had happened. 
Azriel wrapped his wings protectively around you, settling down with his head against your chest so he could hear your heartbeat. You hummed in tired contentment, peppering his forehead with kisses as your eyelids began to droop. 
“I want to go home, Azriel,” You murmured, “I want to go home with you.” 
Home. 
Azriel swallowed thickly, “We’ll leave tomorrow first thing in the morning. I promise.” 
You opened a bleary eye, examining your mate quietly, “Do you not want to say goodbye?” 
Azriel kissed your chest, right over your heart. Thirty years ago he would have said yes. He would have taken time to get his affairs in order and to make sure Jadhan and his sons, Phaedra and Devra, and the rest were taken care of. But things had changed, and he knew that no matter what, they would be alright. They would live and travel and fall in love. If they were lucky, they’d experience the joy of dying in their sleep surrounded by loved ones at the end of a long and eventful road. 
“No. No, I don’t think so.” 
You pressed one final kiss to his forehead, absorbing him in the warmth of your arms. Azriel sighed, hanging onto the golden thread in his chest that wrapped around his soul and bound him to you. 
“They’ll be ok, my love.” You murmured.
And so will we. You whispered the promise down the bond, soft and gentle. 
He closed his eyes, pressing the words I love you into your skin.
“I know.” He whispered to the night sky once your breathing had evened out, “I know.” 
That night at the tavern felt like a dream - the kind that left you groggy and awestruck when you initially awoke, and then slipped away like water cupped in a child’s hands. 
Everything seemed louder than before, even though the townspeople walked about in a contemplative daze. It was the forest. That’s what it was. It hummed more brightly. The blanket of power that had rested over the treetops for decades had lifted overnight. 
No one spoke of the events aloud - they were too aware of the enormity of what they’d witnessed - but they all knew the truth.
The Shadowsinger had finally been called home. 
___
“Quick!” Alzhar’s eldest son, Samu, called out to the twins. They hobbled over as quickly as their stout legs could carry them. 
“Samu,” Niran whined, “I’m tired.”
“Papa said to be back by dark.” Rhaan reminded them all. The only trademark that separated him from his twin brother was the flash of blond through his ruddy brown hair. White-tailed deer they called him.
“I want dinner.” 
“Me too.” 
Samu looked over the hills where the sun was sliding down the sky like rain on a window.
“But we haven’t found the house yet!” He protested.
“We’ve been searching for days.”
“Yeah, we’ve been searching for days.” Niran parroted.
“Of course we have!” He threw his hands up in the air, “Did you really think the Shadowhouse would be easy to find?” He clicked his tongue in disappointment, shaking his head, “Go back if you’re so scared. I’ll look for it myself.” 
Niran and Rhaan looked at each other, identical frowns pulling at their lips. They wanted to prove their worth, but they were still younger than Samu, and their hunger mattered more.
“We’re telling Mama you didn’t listen.”
“I want your dessert.”
“Wait, no. I want it. Can we share?”
“I’m not sharing!”
Samu smiled triumphantly and stomped further into the woods, leaving the twins to their usual bickering.
The little boy sprinted back home hours later, a gleeful kick in his step. The sky was already turned pitch black, but the Mother had sprinkled out the stars like salt to guide him home.
Devra stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, swollen belly blocking out the roaring firelight like an eclipse. 
“Where have you been?” She gasped out, grabbing Samu’s head and holding him close to her stomach. Samu loved when she did this, convinced that his newest sibling would talk to him first. 
Niran and Rhaan wanted another brother to tussle with, but Samu was hoping for a sister. She could tussle with them too, he was sure.
He ignored her question, grabbing her hand and hauling her back inside, “Papa! BaBa! I found it! I found the Shadowhouse.” 
Niran and Rhaan popped out from their bedroom, clambering after their older brother as he dragged their mother along.
Jadhan and Alzhar looked up with relief. Jadhan’s hair had turned white as snow in his old age and hints of gray were beginning to sprout from Alzhar’s temples.
“Papa!”
“Samu, what have we told you about staying out past-”
“The Shadowsinger left something for you and Baba.”
“What?!” Jadhan sat up straighter, grimacing at the painful twist of his leg. He motioned his grandson closer, helping him climb onto the bed.
The little boy dropped the blue-velvet bag into his outstretched hands, leaning back on his heels with rapt attention. Samu, being the boy that he was, hadn’t opened it on the whole journey over and was now buzzing to learn what secrets it held within.
Jadhan was immediately startled by the weight of the parcel. 
“Open it!”
“Wait! I want to see!” 
“Help me up!” 
Alzhar and Devra relented, picking up the twins and leaning close. Their own curiosity was itching to be satisfied.
Jadhan opened the bag and tipped it over spilling dozens of gold coins onto the quilt. Devra gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth. Alzhar didn’t bother hiding his shock, his mouth agape. 
It was more money than they’d ever seen in their lives, Jadhan didn’t concern himself with it - he hadn’t had to worry about money in a long while. Instead, he picked up the slip of paper that had also fallen out, carefully unfolding it with trembling, wrinkled fingers.
For all the drinks “on the house” and for your son, Mikhail, who traveled to the edges of the Continent and made it possible for my mate to find me and bring me home.
Scrawled on the lower edge of the paper were more words, cramped and small like they’d been jotted down as an after-thought. 
Also, your whiskey is absolutely disgusting. Never let anyone else drink it.
Everyone stilled, watching Jadhan carefully. 
Without warning, the old man tipped his head back and roared with laughter.
Samu leaned back in surprise. His grandfather was a naturally solemn man, and he'd never heard him laugh so loudly and so fiercely.
Alzhar reached for the slip of paper, skimming the words quickly.
"No!" He cried out in disbelief, "Stop! This can't be. Devra, look-"
One by one the adults fell into fits of roaring laughter, collapsing onto Jadhan's bed or onto the floor. Even the boys cheered - confused but happy to be part of whatever story had just finished unfolding.
Jadhan was seventy-one years old when he died, and he died laughing, surrounded by his family at the end of a long road.
Down the street in the tavern, the band was still playing the same old songs, although they were being performed by yet another generation of songbirds. But, there was one new addition to the repertoire.
A song penned by Phaedra and aptly named The Ballad of the Shadowsinger years before her quiet passing. 
It was always the last song of the night. Always. And it ended like this: 
Come Solstice day
Come wind or rain
Now calls the heather
The Midlands will have no reason to dismay
For the Shadowsinger has been called home again
___________
Another author's note:
I feel like I threw in so many new human characters so I made a family tree. Ha!
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Also, please enjoy the small essay I wrote last night after writing this oneshot...
From last night:
Listen, some red flags are just pale orange scraps of fabric when you’re an immortal non-human being who’s been alive for hundreds of years. Don’t come for me. I’m so tired. It’s 3am. I should sleep. 
Ok, note from Florence B at 3:16am because I am making CONNECTIONS. Not all of this was intentional, but maybe it was? Maybe I’m just stringing connections after the fact.  Maybe I’m a genius. Probably not, but still. I’m so tired, guys. Why am I doing this right now? I should be sleeping but I can’t sleep so I’m going to do this instead.
Buckle down folks for the essay I am about to write: 
I have my qualms about the ACOTAR books, as I’m sure most people do. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful reads and it’s the series that got me back into reading after college, but they’re not perfect by any means.
One thing I think that gets brushed under the rug (especially given how ALL the batboys fall for girls who are literally in their late teens/mid-twenties - it’s a major red flag but we forgive because it’s fiction) is how DIFFERENTLY fae experience time. LIke, these fuckers live hundreds, if not THOUSANDS of years. The only way they die is if they get killed, like purposely poisoned or stabbed or whatever have you. I tried to write this/touch upon this when Azriel describes how he’s jealous of Jadhan for his humanity and how no matter what, Azriel is stuck potentially living an ETERNITY with the reality of what he’s done. It’s why for me - personally - all the stuff about the mate bond driving males mad or the choice that Rhysand and Feyre make to bind their lives to one another kind of makes sense. Like, if I was faced with an eternal life sentence in a world that was as brutal and cruel as the ACOTAR universe is, HECK YEAH I MIGHT BIND MY LIFE TO SOMETHING/SOMEONE I CARED ABOUT! I’M NOT DOING THIS SHIT ALONE! You’ve gotta retire from the game at SOME point. 
I know I probably made things really confusing by introducing a whole host of human characters spanning several generations (re: the family tree up above), but as I previously mentioned, I thought it was important to do this to contextualize/compare the lifespan of a fae to a normal human. While Jadhan is growing up, getting a job, getting married, having kids, Azriel is still struggling with his banishment to the Midlands and his own sense of self-worth. The line about Jadhan approaching Azriel and offering him money to kill his abusive father who broke his leg was thrown in there later on around the 1am mark. And I didn’t think of it much - I just wanted a reason for Azriel to know Jadhan personally throughout his life from childhood to old age. BUT! Now that I think I’m thinking about it more, it makes sense that Azriel would be able to accept Y/n’s forgiveness so quickly. He sees a lot of himself in young Jadhan and by helping him escape his abusive father(albeit by violent means) and watching him grow up into a strong man and a good father, Azriel’s helping heal his own inner child. 
The kids! Oh my goodness I love the kids so much. Once I threw the first kid into the story I thought - fuck it, we’re going to make the parallelism painfully obvious with Azriel seeing himself, Rhys, and Cassian mirrored in Mikhail, Alzhar, and Zhik. Then of course I had to bring things around full circle and give Alzhar three boys and a girl on the way (yes, Devra is pregnant with a girl and Samu is going to shower her with all the love that Rhys gave his own sister). 
Finally, I’m going to address any comments about Y/n forgiving Azriel too quickly. 1) I feel like it is a universally acknowledged/unacknowledged truth that no one hates Azriel as much as he hates himself. And no punishment could ever be worse than the self-loathing he feels for himself (NOTE: people, if a partner/romantic love interest/friend/crush/whatever EVER says this kind of stuff to you, drop them like a two-ton boulder. That’s a major red flag, but once again this is a fictional man/fae so we can let it slide). 2) Once again, these fae are literally HUNDREDS OF YEARS OLD. I can only speak for myself when I say this, but I feel like if I had known and loved someone for that long, I would be willing to forgive a lot and trust that time might be able to heal deeper wounds than humans are used to. Time is precious to us humans, we can’t always afford to wait and hope for things to get better on their own, but fae can. 
Are those all my thoughts? I think those are all my thoughts. It’s 3:47am now. Oh jeez. To future me: I’m so sorry if you have to read this and it’s bad and you have a coffee-fueled headache all day because I fucked things up for us. 
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gothicknightz · 1 year
Text
3am | ethan landry
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notes: aaah!!! i can't believe you guys enjoyed my little ethan post. ironically, i wrote that in the early morning hours with little inspiration. so here's another one. some blood + injuries
part 2!
'you are so dumb for trusting him'
She rolled her eyes as the text from Mindy popped up on her phone's notification wall.
She was on the subway on her way back from a party Chad had dragged her to; it wasn't exactly her scene, but she indulged in it nevertheless, now mildly sober instead of risking it in the streets.
Was it safe to travel alone when there's a masked killer dressed up as Ghostface going around? Possibly. But the killer could be anyone, New York was a big city as it was, and not all the rideshare drivers were the nicest in the Big Apple.
Her phone rang as she leaned up against the stanchion, one hand holding the rail as she answered it, "Mindy if you're here to criticize my choice in men-"
She stopped mid-lecture as a gravelly voice chuckled, "It's not Mindy, (y/n)."
Her eyes widened as she was sober enough to recognize that voice; the one who terrorized her friends a year ago, and the one who was terrorizing them now, herself included.
Her heart slowly started to race as she frantically looked around, wondering if the ghastly killer was on the train with them, "You're the one responsible for those killings, right?"
"So you've been following the news," The was a short yet death-defying pause in between, "Good girl. You do know the rules, right?"
It seemed as the ride back to the Blackmore University station took forever suddenly, because now, she had no interest in staying on the subway any longer than she should.
"I've heard enough of them. Cut to the chase, what do you want from me?"
Her eyes continued to scan the rest of the train car for the killer, but she couldn't find him to her avail.
"What do I want from you," He paused, and as soon as the train came to the stop, she rushed out of there with everyone else. "Is to see the look on your face as I stab you in the heart."
"Oh yeah?" Her voice wavered as she made her way up the stairs, instinctively tightening her backpack and making a run to her boyfriend's dorm. "You're not as brutal as you make your artwork seem."
"Maybe I'm not the monster you think I am."
"I highly doubt it." She spat, before hanging up and making her way up the stairs to Chad and Ethan's dorm.
Unfortunately, for her, Ghostface had been following her, and jumped out of a utility closet down the hall, slightly worrying her that he could have gotten to her boyfriend.
Her scream echoed through the rhetorically quiet hall as the killer's knife sliced her forearm, causing her to stumble backward and fall.
This Ghostface wasn't the one who called, she thought, in a disarray of last-minute thoughts and panics.
Her sobs and wails choked her as the knife made its way to her side, the masked killer repeatedly stabbing her there thrice times before raising the knife to go in for the final blow.
BANG!
A gun was fired which shot Ghostface backward, which Chad had carried with him.
Ethan was right behind him, and his attention turned quickly to her, allowing Ghostface to slip off again as per usual.
"Ethan?" She weakly whispered, attempting to stop her wound from bleeding.
He muttered strings of curses and apologies such as, 'I'm never letting you take the subway home again' as he scooped her up, not caring if blood got all over him.
"He's gone."
(there's definitely gonna part 2 i don't like how this ended)
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gaysindistress · 5 months
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Prompt 2 🌶️ for a Bucky please? 🥺
Tell me why I instantly thought about this scene:
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warnings - smut. cursing.
I almost gave you a full ass fic but I had to stop myself to finish Van Helsing Retold.
600 celebration post here
I know better than this. 
I know better than to provoke him when he’s already in a bad mood thanks to Tony. 
I know better than to tease him when he’s on a mission especially since he’s cranky and on said mission with Tony. 
I most certainly know better than locking the front door and putting my phone on do not disturb after sending him nudes but I can’t help myself and he brought it on himself to be completely fair. 
Tony decided that 3am two nights ago was the perfect time to call him and tell him that he needed to be back at the tower in 15 minutes because they were going on a mission. At that exact moment however, Bucky just so happened to have me face down ass up on our bed and was railing me like an animal untamed by man. He tried to at least make me cum but Tony wouldn’t stop calling and I was getting afraid that he would bust through if Bucky didn’t leave immediately. 
So here we are now, 48 hours and several failed attempts at getting myself off later, I decided that sending my sweet super soldier nudes while he was on a mission and with others would be the best idea. After sending them, I turned my do not disturb on and locked the front door as a little extra teasing but what I didn’t anticipate happening was the scene before me. 
The bedroom window slides open and Bucky slips in without a sound. He’s still in the suit he wears on missions and if I didn’t see the flash of his left hand in the moonlight, I would’ve called for help. Instead, I smirk as I scoot up the bed to sit with my bed against the wall and push my blanket off, leaving my legs bare. He’s still standing where he landed but his eyes are trailing hungrily up them and narrow when they land on my curled lips. For half a second, the fear that it’s the Winter Solider starts to creep in instead but then Bucky speaks, “You sent me nudes while I was on a mission.”
“You were not. It was over and you were on your way home,” I throw back as my legs fall apart so he can see my black thong. 
A growl rips from him, “Fine. You sent me nudes when I was with Sam, Steve, and Stark.”
He pounces on the bed and grips my ankle, pulling me down the bed. I let out a giggle as he traps me between his body and the bed. My body feels light having him back after he had to leave so quickly and although I know I shouldn’t provoke him even more, I can’t help the way that my legs wrap around his waist. 
“You’re a menace,” he grunts against my lips before devouring them. 
I know better than to tease him but I can’t stop when it ends like this. 
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i keep thinking about my changeling steve au that i posted about here like. What About His Parents
this ended up so long i put it on ao3 too, you can read it here
like steves known he’s a changeling for a few months now, and in that time his parents still haven’t come home. he hasn’t really thought about it, except during his weekly scheduled 3am identity crisis. eddie’s told him that based on what he knows about changelings (just from old stories and things, neither he nor wayne have ever actually met one, which makes him kind of useless as a guru but like. points for trying), their human parents usually have a human baby that gets replaced and they don’t notice until the kid grows up Wrong. honestly, it figures that his parents just never got around to noticing.
at least that’s what he thinks. but one day, he’s walking past his dad’s office, struggling to carry a huge pile of laundry bc he put it off too long and ended up having to wash like literally every piece of clothing he owns. and a tshirt slips right as he passes the door. he reaches out for it on instinct, brushes his hand against the handle, and it hurts. hurts so bad he drops his laundry, instinctively drawing his hand in to cradle the pain. did he overestimate his strength again? he’s been doing that a lot lately, kind of embarrassing to break his hand or something punching a doorknob by accident. but then he looks at his hand, and he doesn’t have the kind of mark he’d expect from just whacking it really hard. it’s red and shiny, like a burn in the exact shape of the doorknob
it’s an iron burn. none of the other knobs in the house are iron.
honestly of all the restrictions placed on him now that he’s become Fully Fae, he thought the iron sensitivity would come up more often. turns out not much is made of iron anymore. all the other doorknobs he’s touched have been aluminum or brass or something. so far the whole ‘needing to be invited in to places’ has been way more annoying. the kids don’t know about the whole fae thing yet and also have no manners, so he’s been doing a lot of loitering outside their open doors until their parents notice and politely invite him in.
he looks at the doorknob again. it doesn’t look like iron. it looks like all the other knobs in the house, sort of light and shiny. he brings his hand near it again, and he can feel the heat coming off it before his skin even touches the metal.
he’s not allowed in his dad’s office. it’s one of the few rules his parents ever enforced, his dad glaring at him if steve happened to be in the hall when he opened the door, like he thought steve would try to make a run into the room in the three seconds of open door time he was given. steve could take a hint, even as a kid.
now though, there’s something prickling at the base of his skull, that new sense he has for something being wrong screaming at him that it’s certainly odd that the one room in the house that he’s not allowed to enter is also the one room in the house with a door he can’t physically touch.
he does what any reasonable fairy would do. abandons his gigantic pile of laundry on the floor and runs downstairs to call a witch.
eddie shows up about five minutes earlier than he reasonably should have, which probably wasn’t magic but instead him fucking flooring it the entire way to steve’s house. he’s got a big messenger bag over his shoulder, and he pulls a smaller bag out of it and displays the bunch of weird bent pins inside with a conspiratorial eyebrow wiggle
‘i have literally always been looking for an excuse to use these. you’re my hero, stevie.’
steve snorts and leads eddie upstairs. the witch kindly doesn’t mention the laundry strewn all over the hallway, just kicks a pair of (clean!!!!) boxers out of the way and kneels down in front of the door, inspecting the knob closely.
‘it doesn’t look like iron.’
‘tell that to my hand, man. i spent the entire time you were driving over here running my hand under cold water and it still fucking hurts.’
eddie hums, absentmindedly grabbing steve’s hand as he continues to squint at the knob. he runs his thumb over the burn mark and the pain is instantly gone.
steve looks at his hand. it’s totally fine, no mark at all. ‘thanks,’ he says, and eddie shoots him a little smile over his shoulder before turning back to the door.
‘no magic on it,’ he mutters. he brings a nail up and scratches lightly at the knob. the silver of it flakes a little, exposing something darker underneath. it’s painted. iron painted to look like the aluminum of the other knobs in the house. steve and eddie exchange frowns.
eddie quickly grabs his picks, shoves them into the lock and wiggling them around for a bit. like a while. steve’s about to tease him for his apparent lack in any actual criminal ability when something clicks, and eddie turns the door handle with a whoop. the door swings open, and eddie sniffs for a minute, like alarm magic has a scent component or something, before shrugging and rushing in.
and steve goes to follow. well, he tries. when he lifts his foot to cross the threshold of the room, something physically stops him. it’s like a strong wind is coming out of the room, blowing back his leg anytime it gets too close. eddie looks back at him in confusion, before his eyes land on something on the doorjamb and his face falls into something cold. steve follows his line of sight and his heart stops for a second.
there’s a small horseshoe nailed to the doorjamb.
until now, steve realises he’d been hoping there was a reasonable explanation for the iron handle. maybe when they were building the house the store ran out of aluminum ones so his dad just got an iron one because it looked the most similar, something like that. but there’s no reason for the horseshoe. no reason except that someone wanted to keep fae out of this room. which means whoever put it there knew fae entering this room was a risk.
his parents fucking knew what he was. they just never said or did anything about it. nothing except block off this room.
eddie shifts a little in the middle of the room. ‘steve?’ he asks. his voice is soft, hesitant, like he’s trying not to spook a wild animal. ‘are you okay?’
steve wrenches his eyes away from the horseshoe, focusses on his feet. when he catches a glimpse of his clenched fists by his hips, he realises he’s glowing again, sparks dancing up and down his veins and lighting him up from the inside like a human lava lamp. well, not so human. that’s the problem.
he takes a deep breath to get his magic under control before he accidentally lights something on fire. looks up to eddie, still standing in the middle of the office like he doesn’t know what to do. ‘he’s hiding something in here. find it.’
part of steve, the human part, feels bad for ordering his friend around like that. but eddie just nods with determination, rooting around in his bag for something.
‘i’m not sensing any secrecy charms or alarms or anything in here, which means i can use...’ he takes a travel mug out of the bag and brandishes it with a flourish. ‘this!’
steve snorts. ‘a cup of coffee?’
eddie rolls his eyes, shaking the mug for a second and then opening it to check on the contents. ‘it’s a brewed spell. it shows hidden things.’
‘and you put it in a travel mug?’
‘oh i’m sorry, i was running a little low on fuckin’. crystal flasks. what the hell else was i supposed to put it in?’
‘i just thought with your whole... satanist metalhead deal you’d be a little more dedicated to the witchy aesthetic.’
eddie huffs, grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like i’ll show you witchy aesthetic, before upending the travel mug onto the floor.
what comes out isn’t really liquid, more like the soupy fog that comes out of a fog machine, except it’s a pleasant sage green colour. the fog quickly covers the whole room, before seeming to pool in two areas: one under the desk and another over the little throw rug in the middle of the room.
‘okay, we got two hidden things, which one are we checking out first?’
steve considers. ‘the desk one is probably just boring shit. pictures of his mistress, or, i dunno, evidence of tax fraud or something. try the rug.’
eddie nods decisively, throwing back the rug and inspecting the wooden floorboards until he finds one that seems a little loose. he pulls it back with a bit of a grunt, and immediately sticks his hand down there and starts rummaging around like he wouldn’t start screaming bloody murder the second a spider touched his hand. after a moment, he makes a triumphant sound, and pulls out a book.
it looks old, maybe a hundred years or so, and steve has the fleeting thought that if nancy found out his dad had been keeping a fragile antique book under the floorboards, she’d probably rip him that new one she’s been threatening since steve brought her to a family dinner and his dad called her ‘lower middle class’ like it was a bad thing.
‘it’s a grimoire,’ eddie says, sitting cross-legged on the floor and gently opening the book. at steve’s confused silence, he adds, ‘a spellbook. sort of. looks like this one isn’t a witch’s grimoire, it’s mostly human magic, judging by the table of contents.’
‘i thought regular humans couldn’t do magic.’
‘they can’t do like, spells. but there’s little stuff, especially when it comes to dealing with other creatures. like, uh,’ a pained look crosses his face as he inclines his head to the horseshoe still denying steve entry. ‘the horseshoe. technically magic. if they’d just hung it for like, decoration, it wouldn’t keep you out. there’s gotta be intent behind it.’
steve huffs, glaring at the horseshoe. ‘so what, they figured out i was a changeling and they got a whole book to figure out how to herd me like a sheep?’
eddie winces at steve’s tone, but hey, who can blame him. this is a lot. ‘maybe. there’s a lot of stuff about fae in here. descriptions of types, etiquette stuff, protections- oh shit.’
steve snaps his head back to eddie, who’s currently staring at the book like a spider’s just crawled out of the binding. then he seems to gather himself, muttering furiously under his breath as he flips through the pages, no more care shown for the book’s antiquity. ‘what is it?’
eddie settles on a page towards the back of the book, reading through with a furious look on his face. he gets up, walks over to steve still standing helplessly in the doorway, and thrusts the book towards him. steve looks down.
the words are a little hard to read, handwritten with spidery loops and the ink a little faded, but steve eventually gets the gist.
it’s instructions for summoning a changeling child.
steve, stupid, forgiving steve, thinks for a moment that this isn’t so bad. maybe his parents couldn’t have biological kids or something and this seemed like their only option. weird to not just adopt a human child, but whatever. and then he reads the paragraph extolling the virtues of having a changeling in the house- how they bring good luck, how they have a nose for finding treasures, and he realises no. his parents never wanted a kid (like he didn’t already know that), they wanted a superpowered pet. the final nail in the coffin is when he reads that the summoning process involves a human child, too. they’d had their own kid at one point, biologically or adopted, and they’d traded them in for a newer, more exciting model probably without a second thought.
and then they’d abandoned the newer model too.
steve barely even realises when he sets the book on fire, the glow that’s been simmering under his skin since he first saw the horseshoe spilling out from his fingertips in a shower of sparks. eddie doesn’t even really react, just calmly bats the flaming book out of steve’s hands and uses one of the sweaters littering the ground to smother the fire. he doesn’t mention the way the lights are flickering, pulsing light so strongly they’re in danger of blowing out. just softly wraps his arms around steve’s torso, murmuring gentle words into the crook of his neck as he strokes his hair.
the first tears that fall from steve’s eyes dissolve into harmless sparks of light against eddie’s shoulder. eddie doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps stroking steve’s hair as he whispers that it’s okay, eddie’s there, eddie’s got him.
steve doesn’t know how long they stand there like that. when he pulls back to wipe his eyes, his light-tears are still hanging in the air around them like an asteroid belt made of hundreds of little still fireflies. eddie pokes one. it glows brighter.
rubbing his face, steve sighs, waves the lights away with a motion of his hand. eddie looks put out for a second, before catching the determined look in steve’s eye and watching him warily.
‘what are you going to do?’ he asks, a little apprehensively.
‘i’m going to call my dad,’ steve replies, stalking off towards the stairs before eddie can even get out a strangled ‘okay?’
steve’s already punched in the number for his dad’s office by the time eddie catches up. his secretary picks up, asks who’s calling, and steve musters all the charm he can to try and convince her to put him through. she usually doesn’t, apologetically explains that his dad’s in a meeting, or out of the office, or swamped with work, or a hundred other excuses, but that she’ll tell him steve called and he’ll get back to him as soon as possible. he never does. steve’s not sure if she knows that; the guilt in her voice could just as easily be because she’s sleeping with him and feels bad for ruining their ‘perfect family’.
either way, steve’s not taking chances. he’s never tried to magically charm someone over the phone before, doesn’t even do it much in person either, it feels skeevy (although he has gotten out of a suspicious amount of detentions, even before he fully came into his magic. whoops.). but wouldn’t you know, this time she says he’s called at the perfect time, his dad’s just got out of a meeting and she’s sure he’d be thrilled to hear from his loving son. steve has to physically bite back a cutting remark as she puts him through.
for all his rage, steve doesn’t really remember much of this conversation. he talks like he’s in a fugue state, his brain packing everything away into some dark corner of his mind the second after it’s said, focussing instead on the way eddie’s face gets steadily more distressed where he can see it out of the corner of his eye.
he knows he asks his dad to come home so they can talk about something important. he knows his dad scoffs, tells him he can’t possibly come home right now and steve can’t possibly have anything to say that’s so important he can’t say it over the phone. knows he tells his dad he found the book under the floorboards. knows the silence on the other end of the phone is so loud it’s deafening.
the rest of it is fuzzy. honestly, it probably goes exactly how he expected it was going to go. there’s some yelling, some accusations, his dad calls him a disappointment once or ten times. and at the end of it his dad tells him if he’s going to be so ungrateful he can pack his bags and get out of the house the real harringtons are paying for.
eddie hangs up the phone for him when he hears that. hard not to hear it, the way harrington sr. is screaming through the phoneline. if steve tried hard enough, he could probably still hear him yelling all the way from indianapolis, and he probably wouldn’t even need to use magic.
they stand in silence for a moment. steve staring at the phone, eddie staring at steve. and then steve feels an itch under his skin.
he’s no longer welcome in this house.
he’s got a couple minutes before the nausea sets in, probably, so he books it upstairs to fit as much of his shit in his sports bag as he can fit. it’s mainly clothes. god knows he doesn’t give a shit about any of the things his parents- no, mr. and mrs. harrington- picked out for his perfect boy’s room. there’s the walkie, a couple gifts from the kids. that’s it.
and then he’s out, stumbling a little over the threshold when the magic finally locks in and physically boots him from the house. eddie’s following behind, frantically grabbing his bag and his jacket as he shouts for steve’s attention.
‘what, you’re just gonna leave? immediately? you can take more time to get your stuff-’
‘no,’ steve says, the word ripping itself from his throat, short and harsh. ‘‘no i can’t actually. don’t have an invitation.’
and isn’t that look on eddie’s face heartbreaking. steve doesn’t want to cry out here- it’s a little early for firefly season and the lights would get too much attention. so he throws his bags in the backseat of the beamer, gets in the driver’s seat, and just. sits for a second.
eddie gets in next to him, gives him a gentle look. ‘are you alright?’
steve snorts, giving eddie a side-eye.
‘yeah, okay, fair,’ eddie replies with a weak huff of a laugh. ‘you got a plan?’
shit. no he didn’t, actually. ‘i mean, worst comes to worst, i guess i could sleep in a tree? i just figured out how to get in one, pretty good timing, huh?’
eddie looks at him like he’s grown a second head. not impossible, but steve thinks he’d notice. ‘sleep in a tree? what the hell does that mean?’
steve shrugs. ‘like, just climb inside. it’s kinda like putting on a jacket, really, but like. 360 degrees. could probably only do that to sleep, though, i haven’t really figured out how to not like, become the tree. And trees don’t really do anything, so it just makes me sleepy.’
eddie continues to stare at him a second before he shakes his head dramatically, like a dog getting out of a bath. steve huffs a laugh despite himself. ‘whatever, don’t sleep in a tree man, that’s crazy. you can stay at mine, if you want.’
‘what?’
eddie shrugs. ‘i mean, it’s no 360 degree jacket, but it’s nice. lots of amenities that trees don’t offer: shower, stove, tv, et cetera.’
‘that’s-’ that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered him. eddie’s looked out for him since he came into his magic, and they’re friends, yeah, but this is... so much. he’s been to eddie’s place, knows he doesn’t have a lot of space, but he’s still offering to share it with steve, so easily it’s like it’s not even a question whether he’s welcome. steve can’t accept. ‘what about wayne?’
eddie just snorts. ‘dude, excepting, like, me being his nephew/adopted son whom he loves dearly, he likes you like. way better than me. you’re the little sports son he never had. frankly if he found out you’d been kicked out and i didn’t offer to give you a place to stay he’d probably kick me out. well, no he wouldn’t. but he would give me that ‘im not mad im just disappointed’ look and that sucks too.’
‘you’d do that?’ and steve hates how small his voice sounds right now. he’s had a day.
but eddie just looks at him with those big, gentle eyes of his. says ‘of course’ like there’s no other response he could give. so steve smiles. thanks him softly, and drives them to the munson trailer. neither of them mention the firefly-tears that fill the car like fairy lights strung from the ceiling.
and they get to the trailer. eddie offers steve his bed, and they argue good-naturedly about it until they both give up and settle in together, eddie petting steve’s hair as they cuddle in a way that’s probably not all that platonic, but neither of them seem to care. it’s nice. soft.
it’s ruined a bit when eddie sits bolt upright with a ‘shit! my van’s still in loch nora!’ but the way they both laugh so hard they can’t breathe is nice too.
steve’s only been here for a few hours, and he’s already never felt more at home.
and here’s the tags! this is literally the first time anyone has asked me to tag them for more, thank you for making me feel like a celebrity lol
@fairytalesreality @swimmingbirdrunningrock
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trash-gobby · 1 year
Note
Hi, I found out that you take requests about Legend. So my request is this: Darkness x reader NSFW.
The reader (neutral gender or female, you can decide) finds out that its brother was capture by the goblins. So the reader dicides to save its brother but after it enters in the Great Tree and reaches inside, it meets Darkness. Darkness seduces the reader and... Sex time ahahah
For the time of this events... I don't know. I hope this is sufficient and sorry for my English 🙈
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Summary: The reader seeks to save her brother from Darkness's clutches, but taken by her beauty, Darkness has other plans for her.
A/N: Bruh, this took me over a year to write and I haven't written porn in a looooong time. Hopefully this isn't to underwhelming.
Word Count: 6.4K
Parings: Darkness X Fem!Reader
Characters: Darkness, Reader
Link: Legend Masterlist
Citrus Scale: 🍋
RATING: R 18+
⚠️This is an 18+ post because of the NSFW!!! That means I DON’T encourage anyone who interacts with NSFW content who is underage. I’ve talked to other people who’ve been long time content creators and users of this website and I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not your parent and can’t control what content you consume.
Detailed warnings under the cut
⚠️Warnings!: fingering, rough sex, table sex, overstimulation, a little bit of cockwarming at the start, some orgasm denial, creampie? (bro I can't think of another term it's 3am), biting, scratching
______________________________________________________________
Columns towered over you, casting huge patches of shadow which made you feel small and insignificant their wake. The ceiling was so tall that you felt that perhaps there was no end to it, as it melted in to a black abyss the further you looked up. It felt like walking among the world of giants, or a world that used to be inhabited by them, as everything was covered by a couple layers of dust and cobwebs.
You couldn’t help but be slightly afraid as you made your way further in, having to remind yourself why you were here under your breath. That somewhere in this maze of darkness and cruel magic, your brother was waiting for you, or at least you hoped he was.
He was so young, kind, and innocent. Not a little boy who should be trapped in a place like this, taken hostage by a beast that you’d only heard of from the village storyteller who’d tell the tale to all the locals who would gather around the his campfire at night.
As a young children you’d all huddle together as close as humanly possible to the fire, letting the heat slightly burn your skin, the orange glow shadowing the old man's face. The hard lines and liver spots becoming even more prominent in the light. He looked menacing, and you supposed for a story like that, it was just how he wanted to look.
In a low haunting voice he would tell the tale of how Princess Lili and the Unicorn. How she had wanted to touch this sacred animal, and in the process set herself up to plunge into the darkness. To be seduced by it. The story took many turns, and you had found yourself in rapt awe, fear and something strangely more illusive. Something you dare not name aloud, for you found it shameful. Pleasure.
However, the fear was what was most prominent in your mind as you finally made your way up to the gigantic double doors that you hoped lead to a clue to where your brother might be. The stone of it looked cold and heavy, almost like it was made for a giant with strength greatly out-matching yours. However, when you laid your hand against the cool surface of the door, it was like it sensed you physical presence. The air rushed through your hair and over your simple tunic and pants as the door slowly opened.
The sound of crackling and an orange glow met your eyes and ears. Slipping into the room, some more squat columns greeted you again: squat and looking like they were sprouting from metallic leaves which embraced their base. The stone tiles were littered with the remnants of falling passing into the winter, dead leaves and dirt.
As you made your way slowly into the room, you took in more of the atmosphere. Everything was bathed in the soft orange glow of a large and ornate fireplace. It would have been comforting if not for the huge stone carving of a demon, depicted holding what looked to you like a trident, sneering down at you. The light also elongated the furniture, of what little there was, and columns, making it look like anywhere there could be someone or something hiding just out of sight in the darkness.
There was a large amount of open space in front of the fireplace which led up to a long banquet style table, which only features some equally gruesome candelabras. The bodies of them were gothic in style and onyx black, all sharp edges like the teeth of a wolf. By far the most eye catching thing within the room though, was a mirror standing to the left of the fireplace.
Although all the furniture seemed to be made for someone twice your height, the mirror felt like it was at least three times that. It had the similar macabre design to the other furniture, but even more elaborate.
The frame had an elaborate folding curtain carving all down the left side of it, making the mirror seem more like a window then what it appeared to be. The right side had intricate carvings which were mesmerizing in their design. As you walked further into the room, your desire to run your fingers over the whirls and edges.
Finally reaching the center of the open space of the room in front of the fireplace, you felt the warmth of the fire and it's soft crackling and pops from the wood. Every sound echoed throughout this vastness of the room, into every dark corner. You turned around in a circle, letting your eyes scan all the corners of the immediate area for anyone who might be hiding just out of view.
When you came back around to facing the mirror, you could see what was reflected back at you: a frightened young girl playing at hero, hoping that it would pay off. Hoping that if she musters up enough courage to use the dagger at her hip in order to get what she wanted. You almost felt like laughing at the toddrey display of false confidence you had been so earnest in cultivating up until this moment.
Then you noticed something, something out of place in the reflection, behind you in the background of dancing shadow created by the flames playing off the columns.
At first you thought it was a statue, tall and sculpted, but it didn't match the stoney grey and bronze quality of the decor. The arm of the statue was a crimson, leading up to black flowing fabric. Your eyes lingered up this arm to a pair of eyes glowing a greenish-yellow hue in the dark.
What stood just a few meters away from you in the dark was something large and alive. Stepping into the light, you gasped, turning to face the giant man. Could you even call what stood before you a man? More of a man-beast which had come right out of the fairy tales told around that storytellers fire.
You backed up quickly, tripping over yourself and slamming your back heavily into the glass of the mirror. Your eyes hadn't left the figure who was advancing on you.
He was almost as tall as the mirror itself, broad and muscular with skin a bright crimson. His chest was laid bare in order to give the impression of just how capable he was of crushing anyone who would dare try to face him. Legs seemed to be just as strong, though they were mostly covered with black handmade bottoms.
Giant horns protruded upward from either side of his head, and his face was at once both handsome and gruesome in appearance. As he stepped forward heavily on his hoofed feet, Darkness smirked down at you.
"What has this night brought me? A lost little lamb perhaps? Separated from its flock." You tried to square your shoulders and seem more intimidating than your miniscule stature made you seem.
"Trying to be brave? You must be here for a reason instead of just stumbling into my halls." He chuckled softly at this display, sizing you up with his sparkling yellow eyes.
"I...I'm here to get my brother back," your voice sounded so small echoing off the walls of the large room. The voice of a being which could so easily be broken under the hooves of this giant before you.
"I know why you're here," Darkness began to move slowly, and you tracked him with your gaze as he started to circle you. It felt like you were a helpless rabbit being sized up by a hungry wolf before it pounces.
"While you were busy coming to save the child, did you ever stop to ask..." He paused a moment, somewhere behind you, causing you to look over your shoulder in order to see what had made him stop.
"What he did to be taken." As you turned your face to look at Darkness, you're met with his. So close you can feel his breath on your face, count the teeth in his sly grin.
You step back, startled, grasping for the dagger at your hip. As your hand closed around the leather hilt of the blade, drawing it, Darkness moved quickly catching your arm in his powerful grip.
Vice-like, you winced under the pressure of his large hand wrapped around your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat before coming out in a whimper between clenched teeth.
"I wouldn't do something so brash little lamb, you might hurt yourself," you felt paralyzed. His hold on you was solid, immovable. When you tried to pull yourself free, it felt like you were stuck, unable to even move your arm an inch in Darkness's hold.
"Let me go," your words seemed hollow, devoid of any intimidation.
Moving slowly with his free hand, you flinched slightly as he closed his fingers around the blade and yanked the dagger free from your grasp as if it was nothing. only then did he finally let you go, standing to his full height and stabbing the dagger into the side of one of the columns.
It fit perfectly into the stone, which shocked you. Surely the blade should have broken on impact, but it was like the column had parted around it.
"Why don't we sit and discuss this over a meal? No need for these hostilities. They bore me." You followed his hand as he sweeped it over to the table you'd noticed when you'd first come in. Where it had been bare of anything but the candelabras, now it was full of plates of food.
Your stomach ached, making you realize just how much time had passed since you'd first set out on your journey. The last time you'd eaten, it had been an apple and a couple pieces of bread a day away from your final arrival at your destination.
"How do I know you haven't poisoned the food?" You asked, looking back to Darkness as you did.
"If I had wanted you dead, you already would be. And why would I waste such interesting company?" The smirk he gave you as he said this had something else hidden behind it. You could see it in his eyes, raking over your body, meeting your eyes and holding your gaze for a long pause.
You wanted to feel disgusted. Men in your village had looked at you in a similar way. When they were coming home from the local tavern drunk at night and walked by you on your way home from working late in the fields.
They would give you that look, the look so common among men when they'd stare at women they desired. A mix of desire and contempt, like a child who desired to covet the last sweet all for themselves. Although childish, there was a predatory danger behind that look which made you always slip into a dark sidestreet before men like that could even catch sight of you. Hiding from the potentiality of what could happen if they decided to act upon their visible dark desires.
However, in this case, for some reason, Darkness's gaze didn't make you more afraid then you already were. It didn't make you want to turn and run. You felt ashamed that not to deep down, it made your stomach flip in a way which wasn't unpleasurable.
Turning, he walked over to the head of one end of the table, pulling out the large high-backed chair and looking to you again as you stood there.
"Please, dine with me. Let's discuss this without fighting. It's been a while since I've had a guest." What could you do but slowly make your way to the chair he'd pulled out.
As you moved to sit, he pushed in the seat behind you, like a gentleman. The whole display would be rather funny, the devil being a gentleman and inviting you to dinner, if you weren't still a little terrified.
Coming around from behind the chair, Darkness reached out on the table for a large jeweled bottle of wine. Without asking he poured the dark red liquid into the goblet in front of you, before walking over to his own seat and pouring his own glass.
Once you were both seated at either end of the table, you felt a little more relaxed. The distance of being at either head of the table was far enough that it gave you a false sense of security.
"What shall we toast to?" Darkness addressed you raising his glass with a quirked brow.
"What?" You were taken aback by this strange situation. It hadn't really fully dawned on you just how much he'd been trying to distract you from your goal.
"What shall we toast?" He repeated.
"I... I didn't come here to dine with you. I came to get my brother." As you said this, something dark flashed behind the composure of Darkness. Perhaps his patience with you wasn't as limitless as it seemed.
"My dear, we will get to that all in due time," the words were spoken less with his smooth sounding tone he'd been taking with you. This tone was all teeth. You decided not to push it, raising your glass tentatively.
"To making acquaintances?" Your statement came out as more of a question as you spoke. Darkness seemed to pause as you said this, before smiling.
"Yes. To making new acquaintances," You both toasted your glasses unable to touch, instead gesturing in each others direction before taking a sip.
You winced slightly at the rich taste. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was unlike any of the wine you'd ever had before. Only ever having had cheaply made wine in the tavern with friends, you'd been used to the sour poor flavour. This was rich and oaky in taste. Pleasurable to the mouth.
Looking down from your focus on the contents of your goblet, you were shocked to find a silver plate before you. A lamb shank, seasoned with delicious smelling spices, mixed vegetables and potatoes lay before you, making your mouth water. Where it had come from was your guess. There were many things about this strange place which made no sense to you.
Across the table Darkness had also gotten his own food. A large leg of lamb. No vegetables to be seen, which didn't surprise you. A beast such as him, it made sense that he would be exclusively carnivorous.
"So, tell me... Why would you come here all alone? Wouldn't you want to bring some strong warriors with you little lamb?" Darkness asked as he used his utensils to cut a healthy chunk of meat from the leg.
"I.. They're coming. They just got delayed by the swamp," It wasn't a convincing lie. You wanted to smack yourself for how stupid it sounded coming out of your mouth.
"You are not a convincing liar. The truth is written all over your face. Your little village was to afraid to help you." You didn't know what to say to this, looking down at your plate.
"I feel for you little lamb. It is hard to feel abandoned by those who you're supposed to rely on." Looking up from the plate, you met his eyes from across the table. He seemed sincere, with a tinge of sadness.
"They said it would be to dangerous. That I should consider my brother as good as gone-"
"And you weren't willing to give up, not on someone you loved. Not on family." He interrupted you, leaning forward across the table slightly.
"Yes. I-I suppose I should ask what my brother did to be taken," You held Darkness gaze as you said this, reaching for your own utensils and started to cut into the lamb shank in front of you.
"Mmm. Yes. That." Darkness took another long sip from his drink, looking up to the ceiling as if he could find the words for how to tell this story somewhere up there.
"He was in the forest. But I'm sure you knew that already. There he came across something one of my servants had left unattended, the fool." At this, Darkness snarled, almost slamming his own goblet down on the table, making you jump in your seat.
"Sorry. I don't intend to frighten you. I just ask so little of those under my service. Yet they still disappoint me. Your brother took this object of mine, and for that I had him taken in return." You were confused by this. Your brother had always been a gentle soul, someone who wouldn't steal, couldn't. Not without feeling extreme guilt afterwards.
"Please, tell me he's still alive, that you haven't harmed him."
"You think I'm some kind of monster. That I would just murder a child," Darkness said through bites of lamb.
"I've heard the stories about you. Slaughtering armies, eating babies, seducing unsuspecting women," you had begun to wolf down more bits of food as you mentioned this, almost casually.
"Only two of those are really true, and neither is the devouring of infants," he chuckled at your little ravenous display.
"They say all sorts of things about me in the little villages that surround my forest. Rarely are those things ever as true as they appear. I don't seek destruction, only order in a new form. I don't take anything unless something is taken first from me, and I don't give unless it is desired of the recipient," Your eyes met his eyes across the table once again, and as he finished the final sentence you felt yourself flush slightly. Betrayed by your own body.
He was attractive in an animalistic way, that was undeniable. The defined masculine nature of his face, its wicked yet alluring qualities, his strong muscular chest laid bare for you to see. The fact that he didn't care if you saw him in this near naked state, it was enough to be slightly arousing to you.
You wanted to fight this more than anything else. The urge to feel for him, as you had when you'd first heard the story of him and Lili. How he'd seduced her to sin.
"What do you desire, lamb?" You felt like he could read your thoughts, like he knew that your mind had wandered onto the dangerous path of lusting after something that could never be, should never be.
"I want you to let my brother go."
"I will, in due time. I have what he took, I was only curious if anyone cared enough to come for him. He made it seem as if no one would." Darkness admitted taking one last sip of wine.
"But he knows I'd come for him. I'd never just leave him," you felt a little bit of sadness well up. The fact that your brother had thought no one would want to come looking for him was disheartening. And in part he was right.
You were the only one who had come to look for him. No one else had been willing to, they had all considered him a lost cause. Perhaps they even thought you were just as lost, not seeing a point in coming to look for you either.
"He will be happy your here. I will take you to him when we have finished here. He isn't being held in a prison. He's a guest here like you." This was all well and good, but you weren't sure you believe this fully. Was this all to good to be true.
"There must be a catch to this. I can't imagine you would just let us walk out of here," you focused on Darkness as he took in what you were saying.
"I just wish for company. Two nights and two days, then you may both leave. I only ask for someone to talk to, to share my thoughts with," Once again, his eyes seemed to wander, like he wasn't sure how to frame what he was trying to say. It made you feel like he was perhaps struggling to express what he was feeling.
"Your lonely." It wasn't a question as much as a statement, and you hadn't even realized you'd made it until you noticed his eyes had fixed back onto you.
'I-I didn't mean to cause offense," you said quickly.
"No, no you're right," Darkness said raising from the table, pushing back his chair. He took a few steps in the direction of the fireplace, his back to you. The glow of the fire catching the red of his skin, making it glow softly. You could read in his skin, every curve, sharp angle, broad and soft. It stirred something deep in the pit of you.
"I've been alone for a long time. No one to speak with. No one to share my company," He looked over his shoulder, catching your gaze on him, the way you seemed just as hungry for him as you had been for the lamb.
"No one to touch," turning fully, Darkness walked back over to stand in front of you, towering high, looking down into your eyes.
"You never really answered my question little lamb," he said, his voice seemed deeper, more soft as he said this, causing your heart to skip a beat.
"I don't know what you mean," you mumbled, still completely focused on the man-beast before you. How he was looking at you, the way his breath seemed more heavy than before.
He reached down with one of his hands, thumb and forefinger resting against your jaw and chin. You felt deep down that you should draw away, not let this monster who had kidnapped your brother touch you. However, his touch was so gentle, rubbing your skin, making you shiver.
"You never did tell me what you desire," his voice was like silk against your skin.
"What I desire?" You sounded punch-drunk to your own ears. His fingers trailed your jaw, down to your neck where they lingered.
"I can see it written in your eyes, you desire more then just to see your brother home safe." As his fingers made their journey lower, they caught on the front ties of your tunic.
You stopped him before he went further by laying your hand over his. Darkness didn't pry, didn't try to push you beyond your means. He simply kept your eye. You could see the desire burning in him. What he wanted.
What did you want though? What were you doing? Why were you allowing him to touch you like this?
Deep down you knew all to well why. All those nights of wondering and dreaming those sinful dreams. Desiring him without thinking it would come to anything. Knowing now that those dreams were within your grasp.
His hand was warm in your grasp, so whole and real. Pulling it to your lips, you kissed his palm gently. You couldn't put into words your desire for him which had laid dormant, but now had been fully ignited. Instead actions felt like the best way to express what was starting to burn deep in your core.
Darkness used his free hand to cup the side of your face, leaning down so that his face was level with yours. You could see every line, every curve of his face, the passion which was evident in his eyes.
You could feel the heat of his breath on your face. It didn't smell unpleasant like you would have expected. Instead it smelled the earthy flavor of the wine you'd been drinking.
As he placed his lips on yours you could taste it. His mouth was softer than you expected, and when he kissed you it made your head spin.
It slower, gentler than you thought it would be. He pulled back from you, allowing you to catch your breath.
Suddenly he grabbed you, causing you to yelp. He lifted you like you weighed nothing. Darkness body was flush with yours. You were able to feel how strong he was, every muscle in his torso.
As your hands traced his arms, you could trace the contours of muscular frame. He was so much stronger than you, so much bigger. You knew if he wanted to, he could break you and there was nothing you could do to stop him.
For some reason the very idea of this, made you feel aroused. There was also the fact that you could feel through the limited clothes which Darkness wore, his massive bulge.
Once again, his lips crashed into yours. His teeth were sharp, but somehow he managed to nip at your bottom lip without drawing any blood. He was gentle, yet the more he persisted, the rougher of he became.
You moaned as he pulled away to start kissing your neck. Those kisses soon turned into love bites, teasing and pulling at your skin. His ministrations were causing blood to rush to your face and the ache in between your legs to grow pronounced.
Supporting you by your thighs, Darkness walked you over to the table and pushed aside the plates and candelabras to make space for what was about to occur. Placing you prone on your back, he leaned close over you, meeting your eyes again.
"Little lamb, are you ready to get what you truly desire?" husky, his voice felt like liquid amber making shiver run down your spine, and between your legs wetter.
"Darkness... Please," you were beyond the point of no return and all you wanted was to be satisfied by this beast of a man. He chuckled, delighting in your small plea.
"What do you desire?" he asked for the third and final time.
"I want you," your words came out in a keening whine, body hot with desire. Darkness smiled. A mixture of smug self-satisfaction at finally getting you to admit what you wanted.
He leaned in and layed kisses on your neck again, making you moan. Licking and nipping at you, and then proceeding to suck on the sensitive pulse point of your neck.
As he continued his ministrations with his mouth, his hands wandered up your body, ghosting over your clothed stomach.
You felt that aching anticipation as his long clawed fingers finally reached the ties on your tunic. Darkness pulled away from your neck, and you knew from the way he'd been sucking and nipping at your tender skin, that there would be at least several bruises left behind.
You held your breath as he slowly pulled the ties free, pulling back the light cotton. Goosebumps pebbled your skin as it was exposed to the air of the room. Your nipples were already hard from him teasing your skin. Darkness took notice of this, using a thumb to tease one of your nipples, sending pleasurable sensations through your body and making you let out a sharp breath.
Dipping down, his mouth meeting your other nipple, tongue flicking it experimentally. The sensation was even more pleasurable than his thumb making languid circles.
Seeing the pleasure written on your face, Darkness latched himself on and sucked gently, savouring your gasps. Using his long tongue, he circled the bud slowly, before nipping with his sharp teeth.
The hand working your other nipple started to wander, as he continued working you with his mouth. Tracing his claws softly down your stomach, before reaching your bottoms. They were light and stretchy enough that you knew he could slide his hand easily down between your legs.
However, he kept teasing your skin just above the waistband. It felt like butterfly kisses, the way Darkness would barely ghost his claws over your skin.
It made you quake inside with anticipation of what he would do next, even though a good portion of your focus was still on him licking and sucking your breast. You were close to begging him to do anything to sate your now aching arousal, desiring to be filled with all he desired to give you.
Slowly he finally began to slip his fingers under the waistband of your bottoms. Instead of dipping lower, he started to pull on your pants, sliding them down. Darkness pulled back from teasing your nipple in order to focus on getting your pants off.
They slipped off easily, making you feel even more exposed than when he'd removed your tunic. All that separated your wetness from the air, was the thin material of your panties.
Slowly, he lowered himself, kissing the center of your chest. Moving downward to your stomach. His hands lightly traced the inside of your thighs, trailing a road leading closer and closer to the last bit of clothing on you.
As Darkness made his way down with his mouth, his fingers finally reached your panties. One of his clawed fingers traced a rhythm on your inner thighs, as he used his clawed forefinger to trace the band of your panties. Quickly he used the sharpness to snap the band, before quickly tearing away the flimsy fabric.
Large rough fingers traced your lips, actively avoiding you clit. Teasing you, he experimentally traced your opening, coating the tips of his thick fingers in your juices.
Whining, you tried shifting your hips, trying to get his fingers to rub against your swollen aroused clit. However, he was tactfully able to evade your attempts. Using his free hand, Darkness pressed down on your stomach to push you down, chuckling.
"Patience. Good things will come at their own time," like honey, his voice poured over you, sweet and smooth. He wanted to make you suffer and to writhe under his control, that much was clear.
From the satisfied little grins he would make whenever his touches made you gasp or groan, to his careful movements across your body. He'd avoid certain spots, leaving them until last, drawing out the anticipation of pleasure.
Coating his fingers in your juices thoroughly enough, Darkness seemed to finally be ready to give you just what you wanted. Trailing his thumb up, he lightly ran it over your sensitive nub.
The sudden sensation made you flinch slightly from the sudden contact before letting out a small whimper. Being teased for so long by him, had made you so aroused you thought you might be brought to release if he touched you again.
He was patient, letting you adjust and taking his time before touching your clit again. Darkness was light and soft, starting in a circular motion, keeping you close, but not quite close to the edge of release.
As he set a comfortable pace, which had you biting your lips and gasping lightly, he inserted his forefinger slowly into you. His hands were large, and so were his fingers. Stretching your walls, Darkness was careful with moving inside you. Even though he had quite sharp clawed nails, he was gentle. You could feel the length, the notch of his knuckle as he adjusted to your tightness.
Working his thumb, building up a steady rhythm. You could feel yourself slowly coming undone, with the intense sensation of him rubbing your clit with that now pleasurable burning feather-light touch. This was coupled with him working his finger inside you, causing that coiling tension to get tighter and tighter every time he hit that one spot.
It felt so wrong but so good. Knowing that he was so big, his presence so dominating. Looking up you met his gaze, piercing and focused on your every subtle expression. Written on his face, you could see the pleasure he was taking in seeing you lose yourself to his ministrations.
Noticing your gaze meeting his he gave you a knowing smile. He could tell how close you were. That you were about to reach your peak. Just him fixing his enticing bright yellow gaze, with all its illicit unsaid implications was enough to bring you right to the edge.
As if he knew the tension built up had reached it's height, Darkness withdrew his hands from you. The sudden absence of the sensations drawing you to your climax, made you groan in a shameful combination of annoyance and desire.
Darkness chuckled, looking over your body, tracing every curve and flushed bit of vulnerable flesh. He then let out another deep chuckle.
"You're really desperate for me. I can see in your face, your body." Reaching out one of his hands, he lightly traced your cheek, slowly. You wanted desperately to lean into his touch, but you felt heavy with the built up pleasure.
His finger inched its way to your lips, moving over them lightly, before slipping between. You let him, sucking at it lightly, tasting your own juices. Locking eyes once again with him, you watched how heavy his breath became, the smile from something mischievous to a look of pure unbridled lust.
The sound of cloth shifting, you looked down in time to see Darkness, undoing his robe with his other hand. A thrill ran up your spine as you saw the outline of his cock against the fabric as he fought with the fabric.
When it finally dropped to the ground, you saw what was in store for you. His dick was big, going from a lighter shade at the base to a little darker near the tip. Some precum leaked coating the top and running dribbling a little down the ways of his length.
Removing his finger from her mouth Darkness brought his hand to hold her hip, as he used his other lined up his cock with your entrance. He rubbed his cockhead, against you, adding again some stimulation to your body once again.
Coating himself in your fluids, mixing with his own, rubbing them over his length. His teasing was almost unbearable, feeling the slight throbbing of desire in your core to be filled.
He must have known what you desired, as he stilled his movements momentarily before pressing his tip to your wet aching opening, sliding slowly in.
Using his hand he had used to tease you, he rested it again the surface of the table to gain balance as he pressed further into you. With every inch you felt filled. It was painful, yet you didn't want it to end.
The sensation of every throb and vein sent a twinge of pleasure through you. Leaning down, Darkness brough his face close to yours, allowing both of your heavy breaths to intermingle.
Letting out a low almost primal growl, the large devilish man bottomed out. Never before had you felt so utterly stretched. Darkness had stilled in order to let you get used to his size, and while it was painful, it was less so then you expected.
Knowing you should feel ashamed, or at least disgusted by what was transpiring had fallen to the back of your mind, all you wanted was for this man, this beast, to fuck you. However, Darkness had other plans, staying still as stone inside of you.
Desperation started to set in and you tried moving in order to create some delicious friction. Instead, being stopped by Darkness hand on your hip tightening, holding you still.
Letting out a frustrated noise, only served to make the man laugh softly and lean in so his mouth met the shell of your ear. "Are you comfortable?" His voice was almost mocking, smug.
You just wanted him to move at this point. Being filled like this was making you so aroused in the most frustrating way.
"Please." In response to this desperate plea, Darkness leaned in further, pressing down on you, lightly nipping the sensitive skin of your neck playfully. Before he finally gave you what you wanted so badly.
Inch by excruciating inch, he pulled himself back until he was nearly fully out of you. The emptiness was only momentary though, before burying himself back into you setting a brutal pace.
Darkness was merciless with his thrusts. At first it was painful, but that was slowly being replaced by the building tension in your core.
The way he gripped you tight, claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks and his mouth finding your throat only served to heighten your desire.
All the shame and fear had been washed away and replaced with passion brought on through flesh meeting flesh. The lewd sounds which your bodies made as they met serving as a symphony for your conflicting emotions finally being forgotten.
Now all that was on your mind was having this beast of a man ravage you forever, to have this sensation of such pleasure brought on through every roll of his hips causing him to hit that sensitive spot within you.
If you'd known being seduced would include feeling like this, so utterly free. Only letting your mind focus on the sensations of Darkness cock pounding into you, his teeth skimming the skin of your neck, it was all becoming to much.
A pleasurable burning sensation had started to build again, announcing your climax was imminent. Moaning and wrapping your legs around Darkness waist, you tried to match the thrust of his hips.
You could tell he was getting close himself, as his pace picked up, the table creaking slightly as he pounded you into it brutally. There would be bruises to go along with the claw-marks on your hips.
His frantic movement kept pressing girth right into the perfect spot to bring you right to the peak. This time you were going to get to fall of the edge.
You cried out as Darkness allowed his teeth to sink into your neck, bringing pain once again to the overwhelming pleasure sending you over the edge. It felt like a damn breaking as you came, clenching around his length, body twitching.
Darkness pulled his face back from your neck to admire your body as you came, still fucking you through your orgasm. His eyes filled with predatory lust focused onto yours. Bringing one hand to your throat, he squeezed lightly bringing his lips crashing down onto yours.
Pumping himself still at a fast animalistic pace, growling into your mouth. Then he thrust as deeply as he could into you before releasing himself inside your walls.
You could feel the hot spurts of fluid deep in you, painting your insides. So much of it.
Pulling away his face from your own, he looked once again into your eyes. "I suppose we should negotiate your brothers return to your village. You I might find harder to let go of."
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evermorepoets · 9 months
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From Eden (Just to Sit Outside Your Door)
Since ao3 is down, here is the new chapter.
Chapter 5 – Just to hide outside your door.
A bookshop in Soho, London – Post apocalypse that wasn’t.
He first knew the knock was not of human origin based on the ungodly hour of night. Humans at least had the decency to only bother him during the day, even though the firm hours sign on the door took care of most weaker willed shoppers anyway.
The onslaught of rain was his second clue as to the knock being of other origins. It had been consistently raining since last Tuesday and the sky showed absolutely no sign of letting up. So, Aziraphale untangled the warm wool blanket from his shoulders, slipped his glasses off his nose and made his way towards the door.
It had been a few days since Crowley's last visit and he had to admit, he had been worried about the demon. He carried so much tension in his shoulders these days and seemed to almost sag when he walked, rather than his usual glide. It wasn’t as if Aziraphale had never seen the demon in such a state, but ever since the apocalypse had been averted, the demon seemed to almost hold a sunny disposition exclusively on most matters. He let the angel prattle on about this and that, always animatedly contributing back into their silly little arguments as they always did. Just last week they argued about the purpose of giraffes – over a large seemingly never empty bottle of wine mind you. While the old Crowley would typically get tired at some point past 3am, and slither back to his cold unwelcoming flat, the post apocalypse that wasn’t Crowley seemed to never want to leave Aziraphale’s side. He at first was constantly reaching out with dinner invitations or tickets for a new play that Aziraphale of course couldn’t turn down.
He had begun to worry about Crowley though when he started to seem tired. Not of Aziraphale, but tired like the humans he sees go past his window in the early hours of morning to dead end jobs. There seemed to be a kind of dread hanging over Crowley's head and no matter how Aziraphale tried to pull at it, it never seemed to want to leave.
He was prepared to brush it off as another one of Crowley’s moods when he received an unexpected call from him two nights ago canceling their dinner plans for the evening.
“Yeah, sorry Angel, just got some... business to take care of.”
“Oh, of course my dear. Rain check? No pun intended.” Aziraphale attempted to laugh, staring at the downpour outside. He was only met with silence on the other end before Crowley's dim voice came back.
“Course Angel, sorry again.”
“No worries my dear, I have some tasks around the shop I should probably attend to anyway.”
“Right, bye then.”
“Bye-” Aziraphale’s voice was met with the dial tone.
Crowley's head hurt. He knew he had overdone it. Between the creation of a pocket dimension and switching bodies, he was quite put out. To be fair, the very real threat of never seeing Aziraphale again after already losing him a few short hours before was too much to bear. Now he just needed a nap. He had done this before, straining his limits to ensure that his Angel was alright. He hadn’t been able to do it when it counted though. He hadn’t been there to save him, and he knew the weight of that would be on his shoulders for a very long time.
His apartment felt empty without the angel's presence to warm up the cold desolate rooms. He never minded the cold concrete walls until now. The sparce furniture was just enough for him, he didn’t need more. But the furniture just seemed to serve as a reminder that it was made for one. The only room that held some warmth was where his plants lived, but even they cowered away from him. His own fault he supposed.
When the angel came to his apartment, he had been polite enough. Not commenting on the sheer lack of comfort. Instead, he only said a few nice words about the plants before settling down on the couch and getting down to the business of what was to come. They had discussed it until sunrise, every possibility dissected and talked through. All of them had ended in their seemingly inevitable ends until the angel remembered the scrap of paper in his pocket. Crowley now thanked the stars that he did otherwise he wouldn’t be standing where he was.
It seemed cruel in a way. Despite averting the end of the world and living to tell the tale, nothing had changed; not in a way that mattered. They had gone to dinner as they always did – even going so far as to watch the ducks afterwards. Yet, Aziraphale said nothing. No indication of a potential change to their relationship. In fact, he was the one who left the park first claiming to be tired.
Maybe he shouldn’t have hoped. Maybe the brush of their hands on the bus meant nothing. Perhaps the angel really did believe he moved too fast and would never catch up. Crowley had tried to move slowly, he really did. He gave his angel all the time in the world, literally. And now they had been given more time. Extra years, centuries even to do as they wished.
As time went on, however, and the possibility of things changing grew smaller and smaller, he had lost his hope. He knew he was desperate and so he decided to do the one thing he could and stay away from the angel. As much as it hurt to stay away, especially now, he knew it was the right thing. So that night he called the angel to cancel their dinner plans, agreeing to a rain check and tucking himself into bed for what he hoped would be a long time.
Aziraphale was worried well and truly, and the rain wasn’t helping his mood. He had spent the day trying to clean, scrubbing the floors, and dusting the many shelves. In the end it had only taken him till noon for the floors to be shining and the books to look practically new. Typically, down time didn’t bother him. He quite enjoyed spending days at a time doing practically nothing. Now it just meant he had more time to worry. Every so often he would find himself reaching for the phone before quickly changing his mind. It's not as if they hadn’t spent longer apart so Aziraphale wondered why now it was so different. Sure, now that the apocalypse was averted, they wouldn’t have to worry about heavenly or demonic forces looking their way and could possibly do something about their relationship. But it's not as if that would just happen overnight. He had been right in telling Crowley he went too fast. Always rushing into things. At the time it had been a warning that they couldn’t do anything because they were being watched. Now that they had all the time in the world, the angel realized he really would want to take it slow and revel in the beginnings of something beautiful.
That’s not to say that he wants to wait on those beginnings. He would have liked to have already gone on a date or at least held hands by now, but the demon suddenly seemed quite adamant to stay away from him.
So, the angel cleaned more. His entire kitchen was first and then upstairs, followed by himself. It had been too long in his opinion since he had taken a proper bath, which always seemed to calm his mind. He even dug out the rose soap from days past that reminded him of a certain snake. When he was dry, he slipped on his favorite robe and found a book from Adam’s additions he hadn’t gotten to yet. He was quite comfortable and settled into the tenth chapter when the knock came.
A flicker of annoyance came first and then hope. He made sure to check his appearance in the small mirror by the door before moving to open it. Sure enough, there was his demon looking in the worst shape he had ever seen. His hair was a sopping mess, and his clothes were completely drenched as if he had walked there. The smile fell from Aziraphale’s face as he moved to open the door wider for Crowley to come in.
His feet were sluggish as they moved through the entrance and his eyes were downcast. Aziraphale was surprised to see his glasses planted firmly on his face as he had grown more lax about wearing them in his presence. After closing the door, Aziraphale went and retrieved his blanket, putting it around Crowley's shoulders and moving him to sit near the heater. He wondered if it would be alright to take his coat, but something told him that it would be asking too much of Crowley at that moment.
Crowley sat in complete silence as Aziraphale moved like a bee around him. Warming the kettle for tea, grabbing as many blankets and towels as he could find. Asking God why Crowley was in such a state.
Crowley still sat silent even after his tea was in his hands and a towel was thrown over his head. He seemed to sag in his chair more than Aziraphale had ever seen before and if he was being completely honest with himself, he was frightened. With shaking fingers, he reached out to place his hand on top of Crowley's. His fingers were freezing, which wasn’t unusual, but he still rubbed them anyway trying to bring some warmth back into them. After a few moments, Crowley sighed and seemed to relax into his seat.
“Mm, feels good Angel.” He said, almost a whisper.
“There you are my dear, I was worried you had been knocked out of your senses.” Aziraphale replied, looking up at his face. Aziraphale had no words to truly describe how he looked. All his reading over the years could never have prepared him for the dark circles that rimmed the bottom of his glasses or the way his skin seemed so dull and nearly lifeless. After another moment, Crowley moved his hands away to rub the towel into his hair. Once he seemed satisfied, he took it off to reveal a mess of red waves, sticking this way and that. Aziraphale repressed a giggle which Crowley seemed to notice by the look he sent him.
After that they fell into small talk. The rain, the evident cleaning, everything but what was weighing on Crowley's mind. While his glasses stayed on his face, Aziraphale was happy when Crowley’s jacket came off to be hung on the radiator. When conversation lulled, Aziraphale realized he hadn’t shown Crowley all the new books yet, so he got up to collect them.
Crowley’s eyes trailed him up and down the book lined aisles. While Crowley might have the uncanny ability to know where he was anywhere in the world, Aziraphale prided himself on always being able to sense when his golden eyes traced his movements. As time went on, it practically became second nature as Crowley's lingering glances never seemed to go away.
“I can feel you; you know. I always can.” Crowley startled, his lips parting to let out a small gasp. He quickly covered it easily enough, smoothing his features back into something more akin to casual curiosity.
“Whatever do you mean angel?”
“Your beautiful eyes, why do you hide them? Especially from me? My dear I hope you know how much I love them.” Aziraphale changed the subject, his eyes on the shelf in front of him. Crowley didn’t respond, his faint breathing echoing throughout the room. After a moment Aziraphale turned back to his chair to find Crowley's head buried in his hands. A faint sob rang out into the book shop and Aziraphale was by his side in an instant, his books dropped to the floor.
“Oh, my dear I am so sorry, please tell me what I can do.” In response, Crowley simply let out another sob and curled in on himself even more. Aziraphale knew how much he hated crying. Years ago, after the crowds had left the cross, Crowley had stayed and sat in front of Jesus’ body. A few tears had rolled down his face and Aziraphale had the inexplicable urge to wipe them away. Crowley had snapped at him the second he stepped forward. He regretted it for the rest of his life, but he had left him there to mourn alone. Back then, he believed it to be for the best. To not cross the invisible lines drawn between them in the sand. Now he was determined not to make the same mistake again.
Kneeling in front of Crowley, he took his handkerchief out from his pocket. He moved slowly to not startle the demon, but he removed Crowley’s hands from his face to wipe the tears on his cheeks. With a burst of determination, he then reached up to his glasses only for Crowley to let out a faint protest. He paused for a moment, fingers just brushing the metal frames, before moving his fingers off his glasses entirely, resting them on his cheeks.
“May I?” he whispered, delicate in his wording as one might speak to a startled animal.
 “Please.” Crowley sighed. It might have been the first time he had ever asked anything of the angel, but the demon needed this. He needed to give this piece of vulnerability to Aziraphale even if doing so would end in the worst heartbreak history had ever known.
Aziraphale’s hands trembled as they pulled off his glasses to reveal Crowley’s shining eyes beneath. They were red and a bit sunken from a clear lack of self-care, but Aziraphale thought they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Even if he had seen the dawn of time.
“There you are my dear.” Aziraphale said with a soft smile. He set down the dark glasses on the table next to them and looked back to Crowley's face to find him watching his own movements intensely. His hands found Crowley’s and he was surprised to feel his fingers squeeze his hand in return.
Aziraphale let Crowley catch his breath, rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of the demon’s hand. Crowley’s eyes dried but they stayed focused on where their hands joined. At every place they met, Aziraphale felt it like a flame. It didn’t burn, but it was warm and tingly; pleasant even. They had never really touched each other before, not properly. The closest they had gotten was that one fateful night on the bus when their hands met for just a beat too long. Aziraphale had thought about that moment many times since, and now, he had the opportunity to finally let it be more.
“My dear, I have been thinking. Things have come to pass that frankly I never imagined we could come back from. And well, we have known each other for quite a long-time and... well. You see, I said that you went too fast because I was afraid that you would go and mess it up before it even began and-” Aziraphale was cut off by Crowley intensely gripping his hands. His eyes were wide and ardent. Aziraphale had never seen such force in them before; at least not when directed towards him.
“Angel, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Crowley's voice was hushed but there was a quiet venom behind his words. His hands were shaking with something Aziraphale was not unfamiliar with.
“Oh, my dear. Yes, I do. In fact, I have been practicing these words for some time now. Even though you might have to give me a moment to get them out I promise I mean them.” Aziraphale said, rubbing his thumb once more across his knuckles. Crowley jumped to his feet and began pacing. Aziraphale couldn’t quite make out the words, but he was mumbling under his breath.  Once he seemed to reach a decision, he stalked back to where Aziraphale was kneeling.
“Don’t-” A breath. “Don’t do this to me Angel.”
“Why Crowley? We are free now. Can’t we have this?”
“I’ve tried! I’ve wanted and hoped for so long, and then I truly thought you might-” He sucked in a great breath, seeming to remember that he had lungs. “But then the end came, and you didn’t do anything. You kept on going as if nothing had happened when we both knew the whole world was so irrevocably changed.”
Aziraphale sat back in shock, Crowley's breath coming out in short pants. They sat in stunned silence, neither daring to move. Aziraphale should have known that this would happen, yet he still had held on to the hope that years of repressing something that burns inside of you would leave no marks.
After a moment Aziraphale moved to kneel at Crowley's feet. Looking up into his eyes, he took his hands and gently pressed a kiss to each one.
“Aziraphale-”
“No Crowley, let me speak for a moment.” He sucked in a big breath. “I am sorry. I know that it doesn’t make up for everything, but I promise in whatever time we have left, I will make it up to you in every other way I know how.” The dim light of the shop reflected off Crowley’s hair and from his view on the floor Aziraphale swore he had a burning halo of the brightest embers. “I have spent far too long pretending I do not pine for you. Pretending that you have not consumed me in every way another being could. That my cosmically addled mind is not full of the stardust in your eyes. I have loved all Crowley, but I love you best.” His voice broke off with a swell of emotion up from his chest. Tears rolled down his cheeks marking his face with traces of gold as they went.
Crowley sank down to his knees until they were eye level. Aziraphale could see every speck of the universe in Crowley’s eyes. His hands moved to trace lightly across his arms, his chest. He kept touching until it felt like he was everywhere. The angel’s eyes fluttered closed, losing track of where his body ended, and Crowley’s hands began.
“Just tell me you want this too, Angel.” Crowley whispered when Aziraphale couldn’t. “Tell me that this is more than just a dream because I have dreamt of you for far too many nights already.” He paused. “Tell me this is real, and I will worship you and only you for the rest of our days.”
“That’s infinity my dear.”
“I know.”
“Then I want this, I want you Crowley. So long as you will have me.”
“Always Angel. Always.”
They lay in the bed that had not previously existed for some time afterwards. The soft hands against fine hair felt far too marvelous to move away from. Their legs were twisted together and Aziraphale had the faintest notion that this must be what it is like for Crowley when in his snake form he entwines himself around the back of one of Aziraphale’s plush chairs.
He hadn’t been this close to another being since the arc. He remembered the dark smelly lower deck, the animals and people all squished together. He did everything in his power to keep the area neat, but eventually he couldn’t stand it anymore. He could only be pushed around with no fresh air so many times. In the dead of night, he had spread his wings and went searching for land, after leaving a few blessings for a safe journey of course.
He had found Crowley on a mountain top. Even as he approached, he hadn’t said anything, only looked dismally out over the bleak rising waters.
“This the great ineffable plan then?” Crowley said after some time. Aziraphale hadn’t been able to look at him. He looked so miserable, he had expected Crowley to gloat, to cheer. He was a demon after all. He should’ve known better, should’ve recognized even then how good Crowley truly was.
“I suppose so.” He couldn’t stand thinking about this. He couldn’t look out at the flood anymore. He couldn’t imagine all those trapped beneath the surface. All the innocent lives lost just so God could have a redo. He felt utterly destroyed, all his sense of purpose had been ripped out from under him. He desperately tried to imagine how magnificent the supposed ‘rainbow’ would be but in all his efforts, nothing made up for the total loss.
“Angel-” Crowley’s voice reached his ears. It sounded so tentative, as if he knew just how many pieces Aziraphale was breaking into.
“This isn’t your doing, there was nothing either of us could do to stop this. You must know that.” Aziraphale sucked in a breath. He felt something welling up in his eyes and he had the inexplicable urge to reach out and take Crowley’s hand.
He did now, reaching out across the soft sheets to lace his fingers with Crowley’s. His hands were soft, but he still felt the callouses at his fingertips. He remembered those hands moving over him, touching him everywhere they could reach. He remembered kisses placed on his neck, his own hands. He still could feel the lingering marks on his body that he had no intention of getting rid of any time soon.
With his hand that wasn’t holding Crowley’s he traced his lips gently. They still tingled with the pressure they had felt mere hours earlier.
Crowley stirred next to him, his arms wrapping tighter around the angel’s middle. He mumbled something into his neck before placing a small kiss there. Aziraphale’s whole body trembled at the touch.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” The words finally reached Aziraphale’s ears properly and he smiled.
“How can I when you keep distracting me darling?” Aziraphale whispered, placing a kiss of his own on the demon’s forehead. He had every intention to sleep when Crowley passed out almost immediately after their little venture. Instead, he had taken the time to memorize Crowley’s features, from the strong slope of his nose to the soft curve of his lips. He hadn’t allowed himself to stare this openly before. He had seen Crowley sleep before of course. Yet he had never been this close. Close enough to feel his breath tickle his shoulder, to count the faint lashes resting on his cheek. Aziraphale still felt the urge to run. To put this behind him and pray that they wouldn’t be found out. Yet he stayed there, he pushed down those feelings and instead allowed for love to overtake him.
Crowley nuzzled into him, taking a deep breath in as he found a place he particularly liked in the crook of his neck.
“Mm could’ve woken me, Angel.” He replied sleepily. Aziraphale smiled, he had thought about it, but Crowley looked so utterly peaceful and the way his arms seemed to never leave him even in sleep was so comforting.
“Never my dear, I understand how fond you are of your naps.”
“I like you better though.” Crowley said easily.
That brought another smile to his face as Aziraphale began moving his hand over Crowley’s hair absentmindedly. He had always loved his hair, the way it changed nearly every time they saw each other. It was something to look forward to in their years apart. Aziraphale would often look at the people around him, dressing for the times and imagined Crowley in their various hair styles. Somehow Crowley always managed to surprise him.
“Do you think we new each other, up there I mean.” Crowley said, breaking Aziraphale out of his thoughts.
“Surely we would remember each other dearest.” Aziraphale said. He had often wondered if they had known each other over the years. The way Crowley felt too familiar to him, even in the beginning, made him question. But how could he ever forget Crowley?
“It’s not like God hasn’t taken other things from me, from both of us. Is it really so hard to believe that she would take us from each other?” They had been having more conversations like this since everything hadn’t ended.  Crowley talked and Aziraphale began to realize he was finally willing to listen. It still made something inside him squirm at the idea that God wasn’t as all loving as he had been told for over a millennium. Yet after everything, he finally was ready to make his own choices, to choose what he believed in.
“I know you as I know myself Crowley. I would be able to recite the lines on your hand as well as my own. I think both of us know we could never be ripped apart.”
Crowley took a shuttering breath in as his arms squeezed around his middle.
“We almost were you know. You have no idea what it was like to lose you.”
“Oh, my dear.” Aziraphale’s hands moved gently over Crowley’s hair, then his forehead smoothing out the lines there.
“I will always come back to you Crowley, no matter what. I promise you my dear.” He took in a breath of his own, holding his demon as close to him as he could. “There is no better love that beckons above me.”
Crowley’s lips placed a small kiss to Aziraphale’s collar bone. It was an acknowledgement without words. They knew each other well enough at this point that there was no need for them.
They fell asleep like that, an angel and a demon side by side, clasping each other with a promise to never let go.
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ajokeformur-ray · 1 year
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Sometimes I wanna talk about the very real ways in which Arthur Fleck saved my life in 2019, but I never do so to the full extent because a) it would most likely trigger some people and I don’t wanna do that at all, especially not in the name of expressing myself, and b) some things are meant to stay between you and the bathroom floor at 3am.
It’s impressive how many times Arthur Fleck has given me the strength to save myself, to scoop myself up off the floor at 3am after crying my eyes out, to not follow my intrusive thoughts of cutting all my hair off because I feel so often like I don’t deserve happiness and my hair is one of the few parts of my body I truly love and feel a connection to, to make a meal when I would rather skip and let myself rot, to not want to go to work but doing it anyway because I know it’s what he would want, to take my time brushing my hair because he wouldn’t want me to hurt myself just to get it done faster, to take care of myself when I just don’t care anymore, to try when I don’t think I have it in me anymore… the amount of strength, joy, courage, determination, and “I’ll just do it for one more day” I’ve received from him, is immeasurable. I got a job in a care home, which gifts me with the opportunity of being able to help people because he inspired that in me. I’m doing a psychology with counselling honours degree because I want to help the real life Arthurs of the world, like my brother, who slip between the societal cracks never to return again unless someone is willing to dig them out. He changed my life, saved it, made it better, taught me better ways of being, healthier ways.
Arthur Fleck really DID save my life, he saved me in 2019 and many a time since, and I’ll forever and ever and ever be grateful for the fact that the world got gifted with such a phenomenal character. I’ll truly carry him with me forever, always trying to do and be in ways he would be proud of, as a way to honour all the things he’s given me the strength to do, all the times he’s helped me to save myself. I would not be HERE, I would not be who I am or where I am, if it hadn’t been for Arthur. It sounds so dramatic, but I can’t properly articulate the seriousness of this post. The people who know, though, know.
I just… I’m curled up in bed right now watching Joker and eating coffee ice cream to sign off the end of another busy day which is full of too much work, too much stress, and not enough time. My body isn’t enough, most days, for all the things I have to squeeze into one day every day, but here right now, under my Joker blanket and hugging my Joker cushion while I watch the film and let my body and mind rest, I feel the most at peace I’ve been all week. My chest is still a little tight, but by the end of the film, that’ll totally go away. Arthur literally and metaphorically makes it easier to breathe and that’s everything.
It seems a bit… redundant to say that I love Arthur Fleck, but I do. I really do.
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cyberskiiiiii · 1 year
Note
Okay but picture it.. the bullying gets worse to the point reader leaves UA. She go lives with a relative that gives her a new look & attitude to go with. Years later she goes back home and crosses paths with the BakuSquad. But this time reader isn’t the same timid girl. She’s a total babe now and they all want her, but she and Bakugo end up together. Bakugo wants to put the past behind them and show he and his friends have changed and reader plays along, but every now and then when they reminisce on HS days reader casually slips in their bullying and laughs about it while making the guys uncomfortable af. They move on and all of them at some point apologized and while reader accepted this is all a long con to hurt Bakugo in the end. Like maybe he falls head over heels for her but shes cheating on him with Izuku or Shoto and when he finally realizes she tells him “you really thought I could love a bully like you?” Cue heartbreak town population Bakugo Katsuki.
Sorry if this is so long it’s 3am where I’m at and this has been on my find since the first bullying post. Lol I just want Bakugo to suffer
ANON YOUR BRAIN WOW
i wish i could write something rn but i gotta study for exams 🥲 but i dont write abt cheating bc its uncomfortable😭😭 BUT THATS A HUGE TWIST THO
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russilton · 1 year
Note
👀 - maybe about the next fic you plan to post? <3 Please!
👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!
Now with me and planning things are always kinda theoretical, but in terms of what I think will be finished next? I’m up to the final section of my 3am no holds barred smut fic.
I think I mentioned it here once but I haven’t been able to share snippets so far cause this thing is pure, unadulterated filth. It started as a couple paragraphs I just really wanted to write but had no where to put them, and then evolved into its own fic. At a certain point I started using it as a kink check list to see how many I could mention or fold into one story, a bit like excising a demon from my soul. Anyway it’s at 7k and I only have one final kink to write that I have seen every Gewis smut writer mention but few of us commit to.
This fic will not be for everyone. Seriously I don’t think it will be for most, but the three people that have read it seem to love it, and they’re who I care most about.
Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask
Snippet and a sneak peak at the theoretical tag list below the cut, because when we fuck around, we also find out.
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The lips pressing into his are a balm of their own, the soft press and slide of Lewis’ mouth soothing over the burn in his gut. Despite the electric energy George must give off, Lewis doesn’t speed up, he simply backs George into the hallway wall so he’s trapped between it and his body. George can’t move, all he can do is gradually slow to follow Lewis' rhythm. When he’s got George to an invisible place he seems happy with, he pulls back, tattooed hands still framing George’s jaw like it’s made of glass.
“Feeling a little desperate, sweetheart?” It’s clearly rhetorical, but George nods anyway, and bits his lip at the conflicted emotions he sees cross Lewis’ face.
He knows it’s late, closer to Monday morning than Sunday night, but it’s been so long since they’ve had freedom to do whatever they want. He loves racing with his entirety, he even loves the intensive training and strict schedules, but he doesn’t love how the need to keep his body in perfect function for a race keeps him from Lewis.
Lewis is… well he’s big. Big enough to make George baulk when first confronted with his dick. Fooling around with other young drivers hadn’t left George the biggest frame of reference, and Lewis is anything but average. But Lewis is also gentle, and achingly thorough, and after the first time he’d gently inched into George, the younger man had seen stars. By the end of the night, George had known he was utterly ruined for anyone else.
George loves when Lewis takes him, soft or rough, in the comforting warmth of a bed, or when the older man hoists him up by his thighs and fucks him against the wall. George is unashamed to say he’s addicted to the intimacy of Lewis pressed home inside him. But at his size, even with all the lube and tenderness in the world, there’s a risk George will be limping in the morning.
It’s a risk they can’t have in their jobs. There can’t be any reason that George would hesitate to react, any pain or ache that would stop him moving, it could cause something as small as a poorly timed lap, or as big as a crash. There’s also more than just time in the car, Aleix and Angela work like champs to keep them on top of their game. George only has to explain to his poor trainer once why his form is off on a Tuesday before he decides against doing anything to make that happen again.
That means on race weeks, Lewis won’t fuck him.
George is not, counter to some accusations, such a slut he can’t go a week without sex. Nor does he usually have to, there’s plenty of ways they have found to be intimate that won’t have George sitting funny the next morning, and George loves every minute of it. He will happily drop to his knees for Lewis in their cramped motorhome shower, he welcomes Lewis slipping between his thighs to eat him out before they have to get up for the morning, or, as he had this week, excitedly squeeze his legs together so Lewis can fuck his thighs until the man is shuddering above him, cursing and reaching around so he can thumb George’s clit rough enough to make George cry out as he comes. George loves any time he can spend with his partner.
But it’s been a month, from getting the car, and themselves back in shape after the summer shut down, to the triple header. A month of Lewis kissing him softly and reminding him that they can’t when George settles into his lap. A month of Lewis grinding into the mattress as he fingers George to release. It's a small relief to know at least abstinence affects them both.
But now they have three weeks of freedom. George feels like he can’t wait a second longer.
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bandit-guts · 2 years
Text
Always Keep 'Em on a Leash [pt.1]
This one is ACTUALLY a two parter! at least it probably will be, I just figured i'd post what i have so far before it gets too long LMAO!!
More The Price of Flesh shit.
Two up-and-coming youtube 3am vloggers decided the best place to record a hit video is that stretch of mountain that no one seems to come back from, what could go wrong? On the flip side, Alanna is uneasy but coming to some terms with living in the wilderness, it's more so living alongside someone who tried to murder her that she's struggling to wrap her head around...
ft. Mason (TPOF), Alanna, Evan and Anderson (OCs, kill them)
[TPOF belongs to @/gatobob]!!
This fic also follows This One for context!
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
The recording starts…
“Hey! Yo, what is UP my guys? It’s me, ya boy, Anderson, with my main dude Evan! Welcome back with-” started a blue eyed blonde, staring into his camera with a counterfeit giddiness
“Another video of us messing around in really cursed fricked up places!” Chimed the other, equally blue eyed, brunette, sitting driver side to the camera man.
In a car the two were going down a road with thick and dark forest on either side of them, the sky was so dark it was black, the only illumination for the film was the headlights of their vehicle.
“We heard some spooky internet legends about this place in the mountains that’s supposed to be haunted as hell, guys, oh my god, this is gonna be crazy!” Anderson claimed, eyes fixed on the camera, “People have been disappearing, so we brought a ouija board and we’re gonna try talking to the deaaaad~!”
“So we’ll be seeing you all real soon, when we get all this uploaded, hopefully we’ll get some real ghost action! It’ll be a BLAST, guys, like for real dudes, just crazy!” Evan tried to keep the unnecessary hype going.
“Yeah! So see you guys when we get the camp all set up talk to you real soon guys.” The blond proceeded to cover the camera, holding it for a second or two before actually reaching over and turning it off.
“I hope there’s some real shit here dude, if I don’t piss myself I’ll be so angry.” Evan commented, a more tired tone in his voice.
“Pfft, dude, we’re just gonna fuckin use some fishing line and hooks, no real scary shit actually happens out here, everyone is probably just paranoid about this stretch of land anyway.”
------
What time… even was it?
Alanna groggily opened her eyes, lying comfortably in the incredibly large bed in the cabin, the main thing catching her attention was Mason was… not there. 
She slowly sat up, turning her gaze to the rosey dawn sky through the window by the door, which was left open, that was when she noticed him standing on the porch.
Alright… I’ll bite.
Silently she walked over, trying to get an eye at whatever the hunter could possibly be looking at, before she fixed on something dark and wafting in the sky.
“You’re kidding,” she commented through gritted teeth, “smoke- fuck- not even a lot of it, so.” Alanna eyed the other, “I thought I heard you mention no one’s been out here for a long time? Thought you scared them all off.”
Mason silently stared at the smoke, his lips creeping into an amused grin, before he finally set his eyes on her, speaking up, “I guess someone missed the news.”
Without another word Mason slipped back into his cabin, Alanna could only watch.
She had been here for awhile now, it had turned to summer, the trees that were either orange or leaf barren when she first arrived were now in full greenery, the heat out here was comfortable, not unbearable. By all means the woods should feel full of life, oddly safe.
Yet she still felt… alien here somehow. She still went through all the events in her mind, wondering how exactly she ended up here. How she got her hunter to stop chasing her, and more… coexist with her.
They spoke here and there, but she wasn’t all too comfortable with him yet, though she bit those feelings down when she felt sleepy… It was the only bed around.
Though she’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t think vividly about how easy it would be for the other to strangle her in her sleep.
Yet, he didn’t. There was no point in asking if he would, he wouldn’t respond, because they both knew the answer.
If he wanted? He would have done it by now.
Alanna sighed, turning her gaze back towards the dense woods, the direction of the smoke in the sky, whoever these people were, they were dead.
However she got shook from the throws of her thoughts when she felt something be shoved against her chest. 
With an oof she looked down, seeing Mason’s large rough hands shoving some day clothes against her.
“Get dressed, we’re goin’ hunting.” he said, grinning like a child on christmas.
----
The camera flickered on, showing a campfire for a second, the dark tree line, the rosy sky, before sadly settling onto the loud blonde from the previous section of recording.
“WELCOME BACK WITH US, GANG! HERE WE ARE!” Anderson announced in an obnoxiously loud fashion, “In the middle of frickin’ NOWHERE! Now Evan is gonna give us the up and up-” he said as the camera was turned and handed to him, now focusing on his friend.
“Okay, get this, this mountain has had people disappearing in it for YEARS so much that its been pretty much abandoned by people, no one knows where they go- that’s so creepy guys, oh my god, I can’t even tell you. I am SHAKING right now- see look, look” -he held his hand up to the camera for a second, a synthetic and overdramatic shakiness to it- “SHAKING guys, okay? SHAE-KING!”
“Bro I heard people just get lost in this mountain or something-” Said Anderson, behind the camera.
“Dude, no, dude” -Evan reached over and hit the man behind the camera- “I heard that they were probably MURDERED you think it’s like a- like a Wrong Turn situation?”
“Oh my god dude- dude, maybe the ghosts can tell us what the fuck is UP!”
Evan turned his gaze on the camera, going to speak before pausing, and instead having the camera shoved into his hands, causing the perspective to turn back to Anderson again.
“Only one way to find out, gang! Listen, we’re here at..” he trailed off, reaching around for a phone, turning the screen on, the light bathed his face in a cold blue light, “Five AM guys! So we’ll see you all again in a short- twenty-two hours at- that’s right guys, three AM! You heard that right guys- three AM, see you all at the campfire!”
A moment or two and the camera’s little red light shut off, and like flipping a coin, Anderson’s expression went from fake excited to annoyed at Evan, “Mother fucker do you NEED to hog the camera like that?” he snipped
“Wha- huh? Dude really?” Evan snickered with confusion.
“C’mon man, we both agreed I’m the better looking one dude.”
“Did we?”
“Yes!” Anderson snapped, “Listen- whatever, can we just pop those beers already, we have fucking twenty-two hours to kill.”
----
Tracking the suspects wasn’t hard, not really, it was maybe a fifteen minute trek, Alanna was more worried about whoever was there not being there by the time the duo reached them. But she couldn’t help but wonder.
Why am I here? Why did he want to bring me along?
She kept a hand in her back pocket as they walked, holding her small knife, of course the one Mason gave her when she first arrived. She was watching his every move.
For someone so large, he walked with a bizarre grace, his steps were as silent as hers, eyes wide and observant, naturally with his crossbow held in his hands. He looked like an animal stalking prey.
Alanna couldn’t help but find it wildly interesting.
His steps came to a stop as he slowly bent down to a knee, proceeding to pull his crossbow up, peering  through the sights.
After a moment Mason chuckled, “You wanna get a look at these two?” he asked, the first time he had spoken since they left the cabin.
Alanna sighed, “Yeah, I’ll get a gander, sure, why not.”
He handed off his crossbow to her, which- had her pause.
Was he really just letting her hold this for a moment?
She slowly took it from his hands, hesitant for a moment before looking down the sites and… oh get a load of these jerk offs…
Easily a couple of 30 somethings, messing around with what looked like an expensive camera, wearing clothes that were exactly the same, but different colors, she noticed the red cooler by the fire. They must have been planning on drinking.
The camera though…
After a thoughtful second she leaned back from the sights, looking at Mason, “They look dumb as sin.”
“Dumb as animals.” he replied, a cruel grin on his face.
She paused, before proceeding to hand back the cross bow to his expecting hands.
“Yeah, dumb as animals.” she echoed, seemingly unsure about the comment, “You- you have some kind of plan or?”
Mason looked down the sights of his crossbow, firing a silent bolt.
One, two…
It wasn’t long until there was a howl of pain and shock from the unwelcomed campsite.
“Don’t think I’ll need one.” he commented, “One’s not gettin’ too far on a wound like that, and the other? He’ll probably desert his buddy when he slows him down.”
Alanna could only stare, yeah he really just shot like that, jesus fucking christ.
Seeing her questioning and shocked gaze, Mason smirked, “we’ll find them, what are you worrying about?”
We!?
----
“WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK!?” Anderson shrieked, as his shoulder very clearly had a bolt sunk into it, blood bubbling and spilling over, dripping warmly down his back, he had been writhing on the ground, as his wingman, Evan could only stare in terror and shock.
“DUDE IM FUCKING BLEEDING- FUCKING DO SOMETHING--” Anderson cried as tears began to stream down his face from the pain and panic.
“I-uh- I read once--”
“DUDE I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU FUCKIN READ RIGHT NOW--”
“I-I-- you’re not supposed to-”
Anderson reached for the bolt in his shoulder-
“DuDE YOu’RE NO-”
An audible squelch grossly sailed through the air as he ripped the bolt from his flesh, instantly he shrieked, tossing the bloodied projectile aside.
“FUCK THAT FUCKING HURT!! WHY DIDN’T YOU FUCKING STOP ME--”
Evan could only stare as his friend could only writhe, yell and scream, before a thought finally knocked on his brain.
“SH- DUDE- SHH” Evan panicked, reaching over and covering the mouth of his friend, “Anderson whatever fucking shot you is out there right now you can’t be fucking screaming, we have to get the fuck out of here-”
As Evan served up a thought that hadn’t even crossed Anderson’s mind, his eyes welled up even more- he was injured, he had screamed, they must have attracted SOMETHING.
Anderson’s eyes trailed towards the expensive camera still laying on the forest floor--
“Dude- dude it doesn’t matter, the video doesn’t fucking matter oh my god,”
Anderson moved Evan’s hand from his mouth, “Dude- we’ll be fucking famous if we survive this-” He sniffled.
----
Coming out of the brush, Alanna was quick to notice the fire still going, with no one around to put it out, with out even waiting she went to the abandoned cooler, seeing beer bottles in ice, but also water, she quickly dipped her hands in, scooping the water up and throwing it onto the fire. The fire quickly sputtered and hiss as the flame shrank, another douse of water causing it to go out completely.
What was here?
A tent that had yet to be set up, the cooler that she had just opened, a log that was seemingly dragged over to be by the fire, discarded shirts, hoodies, not an awful lot to go off of..
As Mason came out from the trees, he glanced around, naturally he first honed in on the trail of red, no doubt from the wound he made on the blonde one.
Alanna took another glance around, noticing something--
Where the hell was that camera? Shit- those fucking idiots probably took it.
“I know they probably didn’t get far but- oh christ-” Alanna cut herself off as she noticed the bloody bolt laying not too far from the log, “Oh my god he fucking ripped that out?”
Noticing the bolt Alanna was staring at, Mason walked over, picking it up, nonchalantly wiping the bloodied arrow off on his pant leg, giving her a knowing smirk.
Dumb animals.. That’s what he’s thinking.
Something about the thought process felt wrong, gross, these were people… Alanna thought maybe she could get used to the thought process, but it was hard, Mason had a very clear and different way of thinking than she did, she knew that…“No sense in hanging around here, doubt they’ll make their way back.” Mason commented, waving Alanna to follow him back into the trees, “They won’t get far.”
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yikesola · 2 years
Note
not sure if this would work but could a potential outlet be a ficlet where dnp are doing Exactly what you wish you could in that moment
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These are rather kind especially as that complain-y posts was just exactly the kind of thing I’m supposed to be freezing aksnfk but it was non-specific enough that I let it slip through as like me ~expressing myself~
So that middle anon (if you’re different anons) has a good example of impulse buying which is not quite what my issues are but is usually one of my coping mechanisms, I’ll go to the dollar store for craft supplies or to joanns for yarn or to goodwill for vhs— it’s impulse spending on a budget 👍 another one is changing my hair, usually with an anxiety-fueled 3am kitchen scissor snip but last time it was breaking out the blue box dye 😬 but like ,, that’s my gay right ain’t it?!
Those aren’t really the kind of impulses my therapist is concerned about. Those are actions. She is much more worried about my impulsive reactions. I’m an overcorrector, childhood trauma blah blah blah— if I fear I have upset someone (whether the upsetting is real or imagined) I jump in to try to correct it and in fact make things uhh much much worse. In an attempt to explain myself clearly, I talk in circles. In an attempt to show sincerity, I make too big of promises. (I recently had my aunt talk me in to flying 1500miles to dogsit while she goes to the Bahamas for a wedding and had to call her back and tell her no actually, that’s crazy, there’s an ongoing pandemic and I haven’t been well enough to get out of my house more than two days a week in months🙃 that did. Not end well.) In an attempt to make up for external stressors that I worry are effecting people around me— traffic, long waits at the doctor office, bad weather— I convince myself it’s my fault the person is having to deal with these and internalize that impossible stress/guilt.
Basically ,, the 24hr hold is that I have to give myself time to sit with those reactions. I can’t let them be my immediate reaction, that’s an old coping mechanism that doesn’t serve me anymore and has damaged some of my most important relationships. I need to sit with my reaction and know that when I do give it, it’s not me overcorrecting or trying to clean up a mess. It’s just me genuinely reacting
As with most thing ,, it takes practice. I’m not yet great at it
First anon has a good idea, I couldn’t fic exactly what my impulse itches are but writing at all would probably help a bit with the like processing and distracting, and hell just the enjoyment of doing something I love lol
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queenxxxsupreme · 2 years
Note
This idea stuck in my head for a while to be honest. But imagine Eskel getting drunk with Lambert and Geralt. Imagine Eskel mistaking his room with reader’s and ending up with reader in one bed. Imagine him realizing whole situation in the morning after he wakes up. And seeing reader snuggled into him and sleeping peacefully and Eskel panicking being overwhelmed with their oh so close presence, because he may have feelings for reader for a while and not have clue and courage to make a move. And while all he wants is run away before they open their eyes he loves so much and freak out seeing Eskel in their bed. But deep down there is also warmth – feeling reader so close, sleeping so peacefully and cuddling him makes him want to stop the time. And he presses soft kiss on their head and it put reader into consciousness a bit, so Eskel starts deserting as delicate as he could so he wouldn’t wake reader up. But they snuggling into him a little bit more and whisper to stay with them a bit longer.
Your humble fan, 🌻
A/N: Hi babe! Sorry it's taken me a bit to post this. I hope you like it :) This was done with game!Eskel too
Warnings: none really, very light angst (I think?), mostly fluffy, mentions of Eskel being drunk the night before
Something tickled Eskel’s nose, drawing him from his heavy sleep. He scrunched his nose in an effort to make the unpleasant feeling go away. When that didn’t work, he tried to use his hand to scratch the itch. His hand, however, was stuck, pinned beneath something.
Eskel opened his eyes, now confused, and found that he was staring at the back of someone’s head.
What the hell?
Eskel was beyond confused.
But then he caught your scent. The witcher froze as he realized he was lying in bed with you.
He didn’t remember going to bed with you. In fact, he couldn’t remember much of the previous night. He knew he had gotten a bit intoxicated with Geralt and Lambert, but he didn’t think that he had gotten blackout drunk.
Fear began to ooze into his veins. Had anything happened between you both? What if Eskel had been rude or crass in his drunken state?
You shifted around, pulling the witcher out of his tormenting thoughts.
Eskel became acutely aware of the position he was in. He was on his side facing you with one arm tucked beneath his head. The other arm was wrapped around you, his hand laced with yours at your waist. One of his legs was tucked comfortably between yours.
Eskel had never realized how warm you were, nor had he ever noticed just how sweet you smelled.
The sound of your soft breathing and steady heart beat was enough to almost lull the witcher back to sleep.
But he couldn’t! He couldn’t stay. He needed to leave. You were his dear friend, someone he treasured. If he ruined it all in a drunken haze, he’d never forgive himself.
Eskel let out a small breath and kissed your head, then began his attempts to slip out of bed.
You began to stir, shifting around as the bed moved and Eskel’s warmth left you.
You turned over on to your back and rubbed your eyes.
“Eskel?”
The witcher cursed under his breath. He had only just gotten to his feet.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Y/N.”
You looked at him, prepared to tell him good morning, when you saw the look of worry on his features.
“Is everything alright?”
Eskel opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He cast his gaze down for a moment.
“I-I am so sorry for last night, Y/N.”
You sat up, furrowing your brows.
“What are you talking about, Eskel?”
He shook his head, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“I didn’t- I never wanted this to happen. You…. I wanted to do things different with you. Hell, I would’ve preferred to remember it as well. Y/N, you don’t deserve that-,”
“Hold on just a second, Eskel.” You stopped him. “You…. You think something happened between us last night?”
Eskel hesitated to nod his head.
You smiled softly, shaking your head.
“What happened last night, Eskel, was you knocking on my door at nearly 3am rambling about how you’d like nothing more than to hear my voice.”
The witcher’s face flushed with embarrassment.
“You could barely walk and your brothers weren’t much better, so asking for their help in getting you to your room wasn’t an option. I let you in and within ten minutes, you were asleep.”
Eskel nodded, his hand coming up to tentatively touch his scars.
“I don’t know if that makes me feel any better.”
"You are one of a kind, Eskel.” You smiled at him. “Worried that we’d shared a bed intimately. Sweet man."
“Well, I-I want it to be a mutual thing.”
“Oh, trust me, my dear witcher.” You returned to laying down in the bed. “It would be a mutual thing.”
His eyes widened just a little as he realized the implications of what you were saying.
“If you don’t mind, it’s far too early for me. Good night, Eskel.”
“.... Good night, Y/N.”
Taglist will be reblogged because tumblr hates me :)
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dwaeki · 3 years
Text
— felix as ur bf (random headcanons)
pairing: felix x gn!reader
genre: fluff
warnings: none other than maybe some slip ups and just poorly written fluff, not proofread, lower case intended!!!
a/n: i'm just bored and need to post so i decided to make this at like 3AM 😩🤝🏻 genuinely dont knownwhat i was writing here but i went with the flow so 😞
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ok lets completely disregard the fact that felix is my ult and i am absolutely whipped for him.
he doesn't sleep early at night especially if he had a bad day at practice or made a lot of mistakes while trying to memorize the choreography to one of their new songs,
so he usually stays up for a little while playing video games on his PC while you sleep over at the dorms.
you're most likely there sitting on his lap, sleeping peacefully while your boyfriend tries to restrain himself from raging and absolutely destroying his expensive keyboard </3
(p.s he has a keyboard that lights up. most likely rainbow cuz idk HE GIVES OFF THOSE VIBES.)
the first time you sat on his lap while he was playing games he just fell in love with that idea
the feeling of your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you rest your head in the crook of his neck is just :(( y/n ure making him feel so loved :((
he's just rlly comfortable and feels at peace.
also when he feels a bit too overwhelmed or just frustrated he stops the game for a little while and wraps his arms around you tightly while inhaling your scent :((
he feels better right away <33
but you dont know that bcuz ure ✨asleep✨
but if he's feeling particularly tired he just plays on his phone
while you're both in bed, cuddling <33
PLUSHIES !! you guys collect a bunch of plushies <3
he likes plushies a lot so if u like plushies too you guys are just a perfect duo. you two are always on a look out for stuffed animals,
felix keeps a bunch of cents in his pockets just in case u find something.
if one of u spots a claw machine outside while you're going out or during an arcade date you're going to drop whatever you were doing before and literally run, leap, fly towards its direction.
"Y/N A CLAW MACHINE !!!!" "OH MY GOD GOGOOGOGO RUN FELIX GO DONT LET THE KID GET THERE BEFORE WE DO"
you two are competitive as hell when it comes to winning a stuffed animal & believe me felix doesnt go easy on you
especially if youre a sour loser cuz he teases you a lot.
it starts off with u two being competitive but ends with the both of you basically throwing all of your money away just to get a single plushie.
one time u hogged the claw machine for a little too long and you didnt even notice the line of kids waiting for the two of u to finally leave for good.
yeah... ure banned from using the claw machine at one of the arcades ... 😬✋🏻
he also lays his head on your lap... a lot.
he just loves feeling close to you so if he's sleepy and wants cuddles he usually just lays his head on your thighs (no matter the shape or size cuz we love all kinds of thighs here, love <3) , grabs your hand and plays with ur fingers.
you already get the message so you're quick to get up and move to the bedroom to cuddle
but if you don't get the message then he starts pouting and sighing dramatically, waiting for u to take the hint
but if ure still not budging then he just lifts you up and quite literally throws you onto the bed so you two can cuddle
(one time u bounced off the bed and hurt your arm... felix almost cried...)
he grumbles a bunch of incoherent words while getting under the covers
squeezes the living soul out of you the second he's under the covers. like ure literally left soulless.
HE'S LITERALLY A HUMAN HEATER SO BEWARE WHEN U CUDDLE IN THE SUMMER !!!
felix doesnt rlly have a favorite position to cuddle in, he likes any and every.
he loves being the big spoon, he loves being the small spoon
but he also rlly loves cuddling face-to-face <33 or maybe ur head buried in his chest :((
loves placing kithes all over your face or pecking your lips during cuddle sessions.
yeah... he's a sucker for physical contact 😚😚
he's also SO whipped for you you don't even understand.
everyone around him can tell that he absolutely adores you and everything you do
one time jeongin mentioned how utterly in love he was and how "disgusting & painful" it was to watch you two interact 😔
and felix was low-key like HELL YEAH IM WHIPPED AND IM PROUD !!!
doesnt care if anyone points out how much he loves u & doesn't deny it either bcuz YEAH!! HE DOES INDEED LOVE U VERY MUCH!!! WHAT ABOUT IT!?!?!!
he also gives the best presents !
he just always knows what to buy anyone he's very close with and the list ofc includes you :D bcuz youre his lover mwuah <3
buys you the best birthday presents, anniversary presents, holiday presents.
it's because he's observant !!
especially when it comes to you. if you eye an expensive outfit that you can't really afford at the moment or there's a fancy restaurant you want to go to, he will keep it in the back of his mind and will take it into consideration ;))
there doesn't have to be a special occurance for felix to surprise you with a present !!
even if the present he's getting you is pretty expensive its still for u and he wants to make u feel as appreciated and as loved as he can. so wasting money on you is never a problem as long as you're happy :((
the fact that he is observant also comes in handy a lot, because he can tell when you're uncomfortable by the small changes in the way you act like the furrowing of your eyebrows or you shift even closer to him, etc.
if it's a public space or an event where you have to socialize and interact with others and he notices you feeling uncomfortable he will take you to a less crowded place to give u a bunch of kisses and reassure you that everything will be just fine <3
he also knows what you like and dislike very well, so it's easier to avoid any arguments in your relationship.
virtual dates !!
he takes you on a bunch of dates on minecraft, roblox, animal crossing etc.
the dates usually happen while he's away on a tour and you two really miss each other </3
the first time he went on a tour he just really really really missed you and your voice
so he called you on discord and suggested that you play minecraft together. you created a new world and just started everything from the scratch.
so every time felix goes on tour you guys call on discord, get on minecraft and add new things to your world <33
your world includes but is not limited to: a huge pink mansion with a pretty backyard filled with flowers, a dog named "seungmo" and a cat named "lino" (as felix suggested you named them ✋🏻)
he once told you that one day you two are gonna get married (if you're willing to ofc) and live a perfect life just like in your minecraft world :((
even tho it was over the top to assume that you two would live in a gigantic pink mansion, it was still endearing and it made your heart melt <3
he really wants to spend the rest of his life with you because he knows you're the one :(
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sxnnimoon · 3 years
Text
Little One pt. 6
Part 6 is here babies! I hope you all love it and I hope you all have a great weekend! (also if anyone knows to do those text and social media posts of artists and celebs please let me know!)
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“Park seo joon… WHY?!” you glared at him.
“Oh come on princess,” he smirked. “You should know me better than anyone else.”
You tried to move away from his hand that came to your face.
“You were mine before theirs.” he grabbed your face.
“You’re crazy.” you said, barely above a whisper.
“It was only a matter of time before I could have you all for myself.” he smirked leaning in.
You whispered out a no before he let go of your face. He took a few steps away from you before he turned around and hit you, instantly apologizing.
You spit out a bit of blood, you wanted nothing more than to cry out but tried keeping yourself together.
“What will you gain from this?” you looked up at him with disgust.
“What aren’t you getting?” he tilted his head. “I finally have what's mine. You would be mine if they didn’t come into the picture. They always took away what was mine.”
You were confused on what he meant but you could see the sadness in his eyes for a split second, but it soon switched to anger.
He rushed towards you. Fear setting in, not knowing what he was going to do. He untied you from the chair leaving your feet and hands bound. He picked you up, carrying you out of the empty room. You tried looking at where you were, all you could see was a carpeted floor and paintings scattered on the wall. It felt familiar, like you had been here before but you couldn’t think of where. Before you knew it you were thrown on to a bed. You clutched the shirt that covered your body tight feeling the sleeves slip down your shoulders. Looking around the room you could finally piece together where you were.
“The villa…” you whispered.
He chuckled darkly, he knew you figured it out.
“Why bring me here?” you looked at him confused. “They will find me. It’s only a matter of ti-“
He slapped you.
“ENOUGH!” he yelled, making you jump back. “Let them come. It won’t end well for them.”
He left the room soon after. You couldn’t believe he would bring you to the one place they would find you, the villa your family owned, it was where you met Seo Joon in your high school days, it also had been a place you would bring the boys when you wanted a few days away in the woods for peace and quiet. You both were best friends up until you married. His behavior changed once you started seeing any of the boys, it had become clingy and possessive. You never knew him like that, he was always the sweet, shy and smart Park Seo Joon. you couldn’t grasp where it all went wrong. It saddened you but you had to remain strong, you couldn’t let your guard down.
A few hours passed and he finally returned, this time with food and water. He walked towards you, making you tense up and move away. He pulled you by your ankles. You tried fighting back.
“I’m untying you, chill the fuck out.” he hissed. “Now don’t try anything.” he pointed at you before sitting in the chair across from where you were.
“Now eat,” he grumbled.
You stared at the food, not having the strength to move.
“I may have taken you but i can assure you it’s not poisoned.” he said rolling his eyes.
You ate slowly.
“Now that you have me, what will you do to me?” you ask him.
He liked that you wanted to ‘talk’ to him, you knew he wouldn’t shut up once you got him going. As he went on listing all the things he was gonna do you were getting uncomfortable and disgusted. You also could sense and hear commotion from outside. He obviously didn’t notice. It wasn’t until you could see movement under the door that you changed up your plan.
“You are insane.” you said with disgust. “You really think I would have been with you back then let alone now? We made out once, ONE time seo joon. You really think I would fuck someone like you?” you decided to get him riled up which would get him off guard.
You could see the fiery expression in his eyes at your words.
“Honestly, you aren’t even man enough for this. You are nothing but a scared little boy who is just pissed that the one thing he wants isn’t his and doesn’t want him back.” you fake pouted.
“Keep it up,” he said lowly pointing a finger at you.
“Or what? You are nothing compared to my men. Unlike you, they know the difference between protectiveness and borderline crazy.” you knew it was working, you could see the feet stop in front of the door.
“THAT'S IT!” he yelled before charging at you.
He was stopped in his tracks when the door was bussed down.
“WHAT TH-” he was cut off by a gunshot.
You screamed. You looked up seeing Yeonjun. He was one of Hoseok’s best men.
“IS HE DEAD.” you shouted, looking at him passed out on the floor.
“He’s still alive, just wounded.” Beomgyu said, checking his pulse.
“Death would be too easy.” Yoongi said walking in.
“YOU'RE HERE!” you jumped into his arms.
He held you tight against him.
“ARE YOU REAL?!” You said, frantically running your hands all over his face.
“Yes we’re real little one.” Jin said coming into the room.
“Get him out of here. I’ll deal with him later.” Hoseok said, coming into view, The others, not too far behind.
“Why would he do this?” You looked down pouting.
“We found files he kept hidden with nothing but pictures of you Miss.” Beomgyu said.
“And a few of the bosses with holes through their heads.” Taehyun said. “Not to mention the nude ones…”
He looked at you with sympathy.
You shook your head.
“I want to see them.” You said, wiping tears off your face.
“..baby..” Joon said, coming towards you.
You put a hand up for him to stop.
“I want to see EVERYTHING. No arguments” You said sternly.
They nodded.
You all began walking out to the SUV’s ready to head home.
“Everything you need is already at the hotel.” Yeonjun said.
“Thank you.” You gave a small smile.
“We’re staying at one of the hotels while everything gets moved into the new house.” Taehyung said.
You nodded.
A new place meant new beginnings, but also much more hidden and higher security.
Arriving at the hotel you walked ahead of them instantly going to your room not wanting to be bothered.
Once in your room you noticed two huge boxes filled with files. You were an hour and a half into the first box barely making a dent. You cried here and there, You couldn’t believe how much he had stalked you. All the trips you went on, all the meetings, you in your restaurant, club. He was everywhere. It wasn’t until you got to the second box that you felt disgusted. The entire second box was nothing but you nude. You cried harder. This man was supposed to be like a brother to you, but he was too good to be true. He was at your wedding for god sake. You all let him in and this is how things ended up. You were sitting there with your head in your hands when your phone went off.
It was Taehyung.
Tae Baby🐾✨
T- are you okay?
T- I can hear you through the walls :(
Y- that doesn’t begin to cover it….
Y- cuddles?
T- omw
You soon heard a knock. You walked over to the door and opened it seeing him made you smile. You hugged him, his scent instantly making you forget everything. You get safe. Though the line of work he does he was definitely one of the softer ones out of the seven but also one the most feared along with Jimin. You stood there for a while before going to lay down.
Tae went to clear the bed taking notice of the photos left out. He covered his mouth, he was hurt and disgusted.
“Let’s just lay down.” You say taking the boxes away.
“How could we let him do this to you?” He whispered.
“We won’t be seeing him anytime soon, he’s done for baby.” You reassured him.
“We could have prevented this.” He said, trying not to cry.
“We didn’t know love,” you rested a hand on his cheek. “No one knew he could do this. Now let’s go to bed.” You kissed him.
He pulled you tight, he didn’t want you out of his sight. He thought he lost you.
As much as any of them didn’t want to admit it, you were their weakness. And it hit them hard thinking you were gone.
As you lay there in the dark, Tae wrapped in your arms you couldn’t help being wide awake. The images of the previous events running through your mind on repeat. The glow of your phone lit up the room. You were curious about who would be texting you at 3am. Eyes squinting you read the name.
Jiminie😚❤️
JM- are you awake?
Y- i am
JM- can I come in?
Y- you can :)
You locked your phone before trying your best to slip out of Taehyung's grasp. You put a pillow between you so he could still have something to hold on to for the time being. You walked to the door just before he knocked.
He smiled as you opened the door. He went to talk but you put a finger to your lips and pointed in the direction of a sleepy Taehyung.
He nodded and closed the door behind him.
He pulled you in close.
“Let’s just lay down.” You whispered, a yawn following.
Laying down in the middle of the two, your back facing Tae who immediately wrapped his body around you making you and Jimin giggle.
You played with eachothers hands neither one speaking. You could feel your eyes getting heavy.
“Sleep my love.” He said. “We’ll be here to protect you.”
He kissed your head and you were soon deep in sleep. You woke up to the sun in your face and tangled in arms and legs. You tried your best to wiggle out but Jimin’s hold on you tightened. You tapped his cheek earning a groan from him.
“I need to pee.” You said struggling to sit up.
“Don’t leave.” Taehyung whined.
“Do you really wanna sleep in a wet bed?” You smirked down at him.
“I am up.” He shot up.
Jimin slowly got up at the sudden movement.
You giggled and shook your head before going to the bathroom.
Walking out you hear the boys on the phone.
“Alright, we’ll pack everything up and head on out.” Tae said into the phone. “Okay bye.”
“What was that about?” You asked.
“Everything is moved into the house.” He smiled.
“We can head over once you are ready.” Jimin said.
It didn’t take long to gather everything. Down at the lobby you only saw one vehicle.
“Where are the others?” You raised a brow.
“They are already there making sure the security is set right.” Jimin said.
Upon arrival they put in a code to open the gates which wasn’t new but the long driveway was. It definitely had its similarities and differences. Walking into the house you could hear Hoseok and Joon giving demands about bodyguards for each of you. You walked in and all eyes were on you.
“Come meet your guard's love.” Joon said.
“I want to choose my own.” You demanded.
They both gave you a look. After the last two you wanted to make sure you were protected at all costs.
“I want Yeonjun and Soobin.” You said. “Don’t fight me on this Hoseok. Them plus Beomgyu have gone above and beyond for our family and I trust them with my life.”
“Okay.” He said.
“I can assure you all will do your absolute best to protect me and my family.” Joon said. “You’re dismissed.”
They stood there just looking at you.
“What?” you said, raising your brows.
“You…” Hoseok said, “amaze me.”
He smiled, running a hand through his hair.
“And here I thought you were too sweet to give out demands.” Jungkook said, smirking.
You stuck your tongue out at him.
“You guys must be rubbing off on me.” you shrugged walking away.
You walked around the house and property, making yourself acquainted with it all. Yeonjun and Soobin not too far behind keeping watch.
You walked to the balcony overlooking the trees, it was beautiful and the sunset added a nice touch.
“We could live here.” you said to yourself. “We could start a family here.”
You were too in thought to realize Soobin was calling you.
“Miss. The bosses need you back at the house, they say it’s time for dinner.” he said.
You nodded leading the way.
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