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#they’re all so close and forming bonds and it’s like…

espion7971 · 8 hours

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HiveWing tribe sheet!

i know i dont talk about silkwings a whole lot in this one, but they're next so you'll hear plenty about them. have fun with my hivewing ideas!

Physical Appearance + Traits:

-HiveWings are the smallest and lightest tribe across the continents, with a distinct appearance resembling insects - specifically bees and wasps, but with some characteristics reminiscent of others. Their colors can range across the whole yellow-to-red spectrum, occasionally even crossing into green. They also can have a wide variety of black markings across their faces and bodies.

-HiveWings are said to be descended directly from Clearsight, crossbred between her and the ancient BeetleWings. It is possible that her foreign genes made some effect - some NightWing traits are visible in their faces, for example - but likely the majority of their adaptations, like the black scales, were caused by natural evolution and not by Clearsight.

-Some HiveWings are born with an extra ability; this can be any out of a list of options. Some have a stinger, which can be located on their wrist or tail, or beside their claws. Their venom can sometimes just be painful, sometimes induce paralysis, and sometimes cause nausea and lightheadedness. Generally, black stripes across the body indicate the presence of stingers. Some also have fangs that can deliver any of the above forms of venom. A few also have other miscellaneous abilities, like an unpleasant and repelling scent.

-HiveWings have long, straight wings that resemble those of dragonflies or bees, with transparent and delicate membranes between them. Their wings are stiff and cannot be folded like other dragons; instead, they rest them horizontally on their backs. To fly, they vibrate them rapidly, creating a buzzing sound and lifting off the ground. They can fly quickly and with great maneuverability, but it takes a lot of energy.

-They have a generally slim and sharp appearance, with many spines across their bodies and a sharply narrowed underside.

-The amount of black that HiveWings have across their bodies varies greatly, but the more there is the more desirable they’re considered. Nearly all-black HiveWings are seen as being the closest to Clearsight.

-Most HiveWings have black markings around their eyes, which, like SandWings and SkyWings, are used to mitigate the glaring sun across the flat, dry savanas they inhabit.

Life Cycle:

-HiveWings lay by far the largest clutches of eggs of any dragons, sometimes having more than twenty. However, the responsibility of raising dragonets is not on the parents; they are raised communally by each hive’s nursery. There are records of each family tree and what dragonets were hatched from what parents, but they don’t have any innate connection to their offspring, instead preferring loyalties for the entire hive. During Queen Wasp’s rule, close interpersonal bonds that might distract from the duties of the hives were actually discouraged.

-They develop very quickly, with incubation times of barely over 2 months; once hatched, their venom has not yet come in and they are unable to fly, but they can clumsily walk and understand basic gestures from other HiveWings.

-Right away, they are extremely socially dependent dragons. HiveWings are hatched without the venom or repellents they might eventually obtain, and as generally small and defenseless dragonets that rely on their hive to protect them. This social dependence doesn’t go away, though. They live their entire lives as a unit with the rest of their tribe. They rarely hold grudges against each other, unless they feel that one of their own is in some way a danger to the rest.

-The education system is very structured and well-regulated; all dragonets are taught the basics of literacy and tribe life, and there are multiple branches of career education they can pursue, from arts to sciences to food preparation to construction and manufacturing.

-HiveWings grow quickly after hatching, and then so slowly as to be unnoticeable once they’re adults. Their lifespans can vary wildly; depending on genetics, sometimes they can live 100 years or even more, and sometimes they die naturally at 50 or less (shorter than any other dragons).

Society and Culture:

-HiveWings live in hives, massive structures made from wood-pulp like the nests of paper wasps. These are complex and beautifully designed, with each vertical level designating a different part of the hive. They are built and maintained by construction crews made up largely of SilkWings.

-The hives have a strict sense of authority; the queen has the ultimate power over the tribe, and the heads of each hive make the decisions about their hives. There are other dragons with positions of authority: guards, enforcers, teachers, etc. It is in the nature of HiveWings to act according to their position and not cause disruptions.

-There are varying levels of punishments for different misdemeanors, but because of HiveWings’ extremely social nature, the most severe is solitary confinement. It is considered by some an extremely cruel punishment, and it quickly alters and deteriorates the minds and behaviors of the dragons submitted to it. Usually it is utilized in small amounts; a few days, a few weeks, as a warning. (Sometimes teachers will use a mild version, where a misbehaving student will have to spend some time in an empty room.) It has only been a lifelong sentence in a few rare cases.

-The hive operates in a way completely unique to any other tribe: necessities, like food, shelter and education are provided simply by virtue of being a HiveWing. They are not paid for. The only thing that they need to spend money on is luxuries like sweets, decorations and accessories. (This does not usually apply to SilkWings, who need to pay to build their webs and for any level of higher education. Food is provided in theory, but it is usually not sufficient as it is not prepared with a SilkWing diet in mind. They often have to buy food of their own.)

-HiveWing technology, all-around, is the most advanced of any tribe, from their intricate glass and metalwork to their beautiful and efficient construction work. (Much of it would be impossible without flamesilks, and it is likely that they stole some of their technology, and credit for it, from the SilkWings during the tree wars.)

-Beauty standards for HiveWings tend to vary from hive to hive, and they’re often based on the head of the hive. Jewel hive residents, for instance, love jewelry and bright colors and over-the-top accessories, because that’s how Jewel chooses to look. Other hives like certain colors or body shapes. The only constant is that black scales are desirable.

-HiveWings worship Clearsight, their NightWing ancestor, much like a god; they pray to her, they leave letters and offerings for her, and they look to her as their guiding light. They see the times after she arrived as the only part of history worth telling. Though Pantalan dragons speak their own language, separate from Pyrrhian, they see and use Pyrrhian as a holy language, the language of Clearsight.

-They pride themselves on being non-superstitious, but rumors and hyperbole spread so quickly through the hives that they might as well be.

Diet: Omnivorous. HiveWings eat meat and insects, but also a number of plants. A good amount of their diet, alongside SilkWings, consists of sugar, which they can make into a wide variety of things (including honey). It helps give them enough energy to fly long distances.

#wings of fire #wof headcanons #wof art #art #my posts #hivewings

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moonspirit · 19 hours

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what do u think the alliances favourite form of media is? (books, poetry, music, movies etc.) now that they’re able to freely enjoy such things

Hiya!

Oh well xD I have some strong opinions on this one.

For Armin, his fascination with books will not cease, obviously, and good for him if he finds a library he can spend all day cooped up in, reading about wonderful new things. But also, I like thinking that he's gonna enjoy music a lot. Once he gets his hands on some records, and the Alliance hauls a gramophone into their house, he's going to really become a music enthusiast. I see him bonding with Pieck over their mutual love for good music.

(also. Once he discovers a new machine or contraption or invention, it's over for everyone.)

Annie - well @aquietjune introduced the image of Annie being a movies lover, and it's been stuck in my head ever since xD It's just adorable to think she enjoys going to watch the moving pictures and can spend any amount of time there. But aside from this, while I think she's not much of a book person, I like the idea of her enjoying crossword puzzles a lot. She'd like to have something to keep her mind busy and they're good for that. Ofc, this means Armin and her can have dining table dates where he's reading a book and she's doing a puzzle and he helps her with words when they're being particularly difficult.

Jean - XD oh god. I imagine this guy likes activities that exude an air of elegance and class. This could be painting, or an interest in fine art, and poetry, museums, art galleries, the like. I think he'd also enjoy the movies and maybe he and Annie could go together for a few (tho she's not having any of his intellectual put-on opinions on them).

Pieck - she's gonna be a plant lady 100%. There will be so many plants in her room and in the house that a giant leaf is smacking everyone in the face wherever they go. I just think she's going to find some comfort raising baby plants especially if we consider that she's the only real "odd one out" in the Alliance. She's lost everyone she knew and loved and is a newcomer among the others. But! There's also the music! She's got good taste in music and I imagine she's going to find some closeness with Armin in this interest.

As for Connie and Reiner. See, I really think they'd enjoy festivals and carnivals and board games and shooting games haha xD Not that any of the others would enjoy them less, but they're the first to make a beeline if there's something going on somewhere. Reiner canonically enjoys playing chess too (if I'm remembering right, he used to play a lot with Armin during their cadet years). Connie would enjoy mimicry and jesting shows(?) a lot (plenty to laugh at) and I think Reiner would also enjoy romance novels a lot and get too involved in the drama. I just like making fun of him a lot sorry

Not related to media but I think taking care of pets would help them all, but Reiner in specific. Not going into details here cuz that is another tangent, but for someone with so many suicidal thoughts and ideations, finding joy in bonding with a dog or cat or any animal really, would be good for him.

Falco and Gabi? - they probably love everything! Though Gabi is too restless to sit in one place for anything too long lol. Falco would probably get great book recs from Armin.

Levi - leave the man alone in peace, he's got a tea shop. (But I also hc that he likes the radio a lot)

Mikasa? - I think she'd also like radio broadcasts a lot, and going to plays. I have a very hard time getting into her headspace 🥲

#ask #behyuu #attack on titan #headcanon #alliance #armin arlert #annie leonhart #jean kirstein #pieck finger #f #reiner braun #connie springer #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #gabi braun #falco grice

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eddywoww · 3 months

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I’m such a sucker for ill timed kink discovery

I’m talking about Steve Has A Hair Pulling kink but doesn’t really know it. He’s always really liked when people play with his hair but

He gets close to Eddie. Because Eddie gets close to Robin and they have a bond that doesn’t make sense to Steve and he’s a little jealous over it but whatever, fine. It takes a few months for Steve to really warm up to Eddie.

And then it’s over.

They start cuddling. Only, it’s not cuddling? It isn’t. Steve just gets high with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Eddie and everyone is so nice and so chill and things aren’t weird like they used to be. So Steve relaxes, splays his feet out in Robin’s lap as he lays his head in Eddie’s lap. It’s a first and Eddie definitely freezes for a good few seconds when Steve does it but he lets it happen

He doesn’t touch Steve the first time.

He touches him the second time. When they’re all hanging out and the lights are low and Steve does it again and Robin only halfway gives him a weird look. It doesn’t stop Steve form blinking tired eyes up at Eddie, watching the way he gulps and hovers a hand over Steve’s face.

“I like when people pet my hair,” He says unhelpfully, so high he can barely concentrate. Eddie makes a soft noise and blinks down at him. “You should- you should do that.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate for long, his fingers carding through. Touching the scalp, nails catching.

It’s the first time Steve has ever broken out into goosebumps over something so simple.

And then it becomes a habit. Steve falls asleep in Eddie’s lap and it becomes a habit because Eddie can’t seem to stop and Steve can’t seem to stop him. So he sits in front of Eddie whenever he can. Lays all over him, high or not.

One day, it all goes to shit. He’s high again, head placed in Eddie’s lap. Ignoring whatever movie they’re watching in the dark. Eyes closed and mind drifting as Eddie pets him. Steve isn’t sure how his hands never get tired but he isn’t complaining.

Robin screams at an ill timed jump scare and of course, of course. The universe loves to mock Steve. Eddie’s hand clenched reflexively and he pulls, PULLS at Steve’s hair. Sudden and hard. Just yanks from the root and-

Steve feels it like a shock collar. Like a bolt of lightning. Right into his scalp, a shiver that works its way down his body. He’s half hard before he can really do anything about it. And of course he had to panic. What else can he do but bolt upright and off the couch? Stumbling toward the nearest bathroom before anyone can think much of it? Mumbles off an excuse about being dizzy.

Eddie is at the door once Steve gets out. Once he splashes his face with cold water and tries to wills away his sudden boner and WHY the FUCK he would get one in the first place. Past the whole “maybe I like guys” thing that he’s been ruminating on since freshmen year.

Eddie is so sweet to him, worried that Steve really got too high. He’s even ready with a bottle of water. It’s painful and it makes Steve feel even worse.

It isn’t supposed to happen again but it does. Yes, it does. The next time Steve gets high, he tries not to sit next to Eddie. They’re at the trailer this time. But Steve is Steve and high Steve loves attention. So he ends up laying all over Eddie again, eyes drifting shut.

It’s Eddie’s fault this time.

His fingers drift far into chestnut locks. Sinking deep, deeper than usual. Just to clench up and pull. It’s light, almost unnoticeable. But it’s enough for Steve’s eyes to pop open again. To look up at Eddie in wonder, mouth open on a silent noise. And Eddie is looking back, watching Steve with a deer in headlights expression. He goes “Huh.” Like he just figured something out, like he just solved a problem.

Steve should have seen it as a warning.

He also should have stopped using Eddie as a jungle gym.

The third time is even worse. Because they both know now, don’t they? But neither of them will talk about it. No, that would be too much.

Eddie pats his lap like an invitation and no one even thinks it’s weird. Steve doesn’t care if they do. He looks forward to these weekly movie nights more than ever now.

Robin isn’t on their couch tonight. She hasn’t given any inkling that she knows what’s going on but she probably suspects Steve has a crush. She won’t mention it, not yet. He loves that about her.

And Eddie. Eddie doesn’t even watch the movie, he watches Steve. As he plays with his hair, lips quirking when he finally wraps a strand around one finger and tugs at it and Steve’s back arches the tiniest bit and his blood drains south and he’s got his nails in the soft fabric of Jonathan’s couch.

“There you go,” Eddie whispers, just the tail end of some sort of praise and- and Steve can’t really take that, can he? He bites his bottom lip to try and hide the whine that wants to escape. Rubs his face against Eddie’s thigh. Feels the hard outline of his cock, so close to Steve’s face. Fuck. “I knew it.”

He knew it, he knew it. Fuck.

Nothing happens. Steve goes home with wide eyes and flushed cheeks and a stupid amount of horniness. Eddie smiles like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

The final time is the straw that breaks the camels back.

Steve sits at Eddie’s feet on the floor of his trailer. The rest of them are smoking but Steve isn’t this time. Doesn’t want to, doesn’t need it. Not when Eddie already has a hand in his hair and Steve feels boneless and wow, this is just normal now, isn’t it?

There’s little to no pretense once the lights go down. And the night is terrible and great in equal measure. Steve is so hard it hurts, head leaned back and eyes closed. Waiting for Eddie to give in and pull his hair again. He won’t do it. He won’t just-

Not until everyone leaves. Not until Robin rolls her eyes and huffs something like ‘finally’ on her way out.

Eddie pulls Steve into his lap and their lips meet and- and he grabs two fistfuls of hair and pulls hard. Hard enough for Steve to let out a groan that is embarrassingly loud. Loud enough that he hopes everyone is really gone.

Steve discovers a stupid little kink and Eddie gets a preppy little boyfriend.

#blurbs #kinky stuff #my fic

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wolfish-chan · 3 months

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Batfam + co headcanons

- Jason dyes his hair black, but can’t seem to dye back the white streak

- His eyes use to be more brown, but after his dip in the Lazarus pit, they are a dark green

- The Al Ghul’s are similar in that aspect - Ra’s and Talia both have naturally brown eyes and Damian’s blue, but they’re now a vibrant green, reflecting the amount of time they’ve spent in the pit

- Ra’s eyes are the most unsettling, they’re the exact color of the pit water

- Damian has an accent

- Dick does too, but it’s much harder to pinpoint because of how much he’s traveled

- Damian calls Bruce ‘Baba’, but only after he disappeared. Before that it was just ‘Father’

- Tim is supposed to wear glasses, but he tends to forget them and his contacts so his mask is built to compensate. However, he is forever squinting during board meetings at Wayne Enterprises

- Jason and Bruce have the same thinking face but nobody would willingly call it out

- Alfred could definitely kill any of the rogue gallery, but he doesn’t out of respect of Bruce’s values

- Initially, Bruce would get annoyed when Tim would bring YJ into the batcave/manor, but he’s slowly begun to expect it

- He did get tired of finding Bart in his good chair though, so now he has a special one beside it (everyone knows it’s for Bart, but Bruce would rather be caught dead than admit that)

- Duke gets along really well with Bart and Wally, and Bruce feels a headache forming every time they’re together

- Cass is Wally’s favorite out of Dick’s siblings. More often than not, he talks way too fast for her to catch more than a few words, but she’s such an attentive listener that he forgets

- Stephanie and Jason aren’t allowed to be in a room together without supervision because they kept getting into fistfights (she antagonizes him as a hobby)

- When Damian needs time to think, he goes down to the barn to sit with Batcow because nobody ever checks for him there. They always assume he’s off training

- Duke brings out Damian’s childish nature in the best ways, and they’re almost as close as Damian is with Dick

- They pester each other a lot, but then fall asleep watching movies together (true brothers fr)

- The entirety of the batfam refuses to watch superhero movies because they’re “inaccurate”

- Jason and Diana have a genuine bond, and it only grows stronger when he comes back, even if she does get disappointed with his actions. She’s like the mom he never had

- Clark always says he doesn’t have favorites out of the younger generation, but it’s secretly Tim. He appreciates all that he does for Kon (Dick is still his favorite Robin tho)

- Alfred doesn’t make certain recipes anymore because they were something he used to make with Jason, and it upsets him to make them without his assistant

- Tim cannot for the life of him match his clothes, like Adam Sandler type of style

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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Eddie’s been well aware of his feelings towards Steve, ever since his heart still managed to skip a beat even while running for his life in a nightmare alternate dimension, just because Steve was in his line of vision; all he could think was Well, shit, this is pretty fucking inconvenient.

(What he’d meant was inevitable.)

But he doesn’t act on it, doesn’t dare to even think of it being as serious as love or he’s the goddamn one, not until…

It starts as a small thing. He’s still getting back into the swing of playing the guitar just for fun, just for him—when the mood strikes him, he fiddles away at his acoustic until some kind of tune forms, nothing all that complicated.

Wayne had got him a new stack of blank tapes, and he records himself singing a few times, improvising lyrics that end up sounding a bit like folk songs he’s heard in his childhood.

“Which one’s better?” he asks Steve idly on a cloudy afternoon; they’re long past the stage where he feels nervous at the thought of Steve hearing him sing, a familiarity grown between them: something more than just ‘forced’ bonding through near-apocalyptic circumstances.

He plays a tape while they lounge on the bed, and the second version of the song is barely over when Steve begins to speak.

And Eddie isn’t really expecting him to give a serious answer, because, well, the singing isn’t all that serious, honestly. The recording isn’t professional, his lyrics chop and change, the melody loses its way a bit in the middle before returning; it’s hardly the kind of thing a producer would play in an idealistic movie and say kid, I’m gonna make you a star.

(That’s not why Eddie’s recording, anyway. It’s more to prove something to himself: this hasn’t been taken from you. It can still make you happy.)

“Oh, this one, no question,” Steve says, with such confidence that Eddie almost wonders if he’s gonna reveal that in between the whole side hustles of Family Video and killing real D&D monsters, he is, in fact, a producer.

“Hmm, interesting. Why?”

Steve shrugs, brushing against Eddie with the movement, like he’s saying isn’t it obvious?

“I can hear you smiling in this one,” Steve says.

And Eddie…

Just stops for a moment. Like a song left on pause.

He’s unable to stop the question that comes spilling out.

“Can I, uh… Steve. Can I kiss you?”

The soft rustle of sheets; Steve’s face is suddenly so close that Eddie closes his eyes on impulse.

“Thought you were never gonna ask,” Steve says, and Eddie can hear his smile so clearly—and when their lips meet, he feels the shape of it, too, feels the smile grow as his song flows on, a joy that cannot be contained.

#sometimes love is looking at someone and knowing that they’re happy so happy that all you can do is feel it too. ❤️#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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braimin · 2 months

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I am currently thinking about Zoro’s swords being able to communicate with him.

Prolonged contact with them creates a bond and since Zoro is almost never away from them and takes very good care of them, their connection runs very deep. They communicate mostly in feeling, not with real words when they talk to him. Which is fine with Zoro because doesn’t care much for talking.

Most of the crew doesn’t realize they’re ‘alive’, so they don’t get why Zoro is like That when it comes to his swords. Luffy gets it almost immediately, he holds them like twice and is like oh these things got shit to say and he’ll ask to talk to them every now and then cause they are apart of his crew. Zoro has let the others hold his swords several times but no one else really forms a connection the way he and Luffy did.

Except the cook. His bond with them forms very slowly though. He touches those blades at least once a day when they spar, but it’s always a fleeting moment. Zoro hears their opinions on the dartboard, it’s usually superficial. ‘He’s strong’, ‘he’s loud’, ‘sparing with him is fun’, a lot of it is stuff Zoro is already thinking. Over time Sanji shows interest in the swords and it starts to change their opinion of him.

When they go shopping Sanji will point out any blacksmith they pass and ask if Zoro needs to stop by and have them looked at. After battles he asks how they held up, if any are hurt, like he noticed they could feel in a way. Zoro refers to Wado as she and so now Sanji treats her like a lady and yells at him when he ‘manhandles’ her outside of the battlefield. She finds it amusing, though Kitestu and Shusui think he needs to shut up if he’s not gonna tell Zoro to treat them all the same.

They never really ‘talk’ to Sanji until a battle messes up the rope on Kitestu’s sheath. Sanji fixes the crews clothes and stuff all the time so when he points out the rope, Zoro hands the sword over for him to fix without a second thought. Sanji is surprised when there’s immediately a voice in his head that says ‘Don’t mess it up’. He thinks it’s Zoro at first so he whips around to argue back but he’s already across the deck about to clean Shusui. He looks back down to the blade in his hand and it’s like he can feel a heartbeat for a moment. Then there’s agitation that bubbles in his head that isn’t his.

‘Get on with it, Cook.’ The voice is similar to Zoro’s, but not really? It’s barely even a voice honestly, it feels close to Sanji’s own thoughts. He’s intrigued by it and while he makes his way to his locker to get his sewing kit, he thinks about all the times Luffy has snatched these swords and spent hours talking to them while he fished. He figured it was just a Luffy thing but .. were these things alive?

The blade is quiet the entire time Sanji redoes the cording, he’s starting to think he hallucinated the interaction until he finishes and it speaks again. ‘Your hands are kind, I see why you refuse to fight with them.’ It makes Sanji jump, caught completely off guard, and he drops the sword to the ground. ‘Never mind.’ There’s a feeling of annoyance that fills his head when he picks Kitestu back up. Its so odd to feel something that isn’t coming from him and he stares at the blade in mild shock. He’s not really sure where to go from here, he should go give it back to Zoro but. well. he’s curious. This sword called his hands kind, he’s surprised to be complimented by an inanimate object- or something that’s supposed to be an inanimate object. ‘You think they’re kind?’ He finds himself asking.

‘They are, it is rare to be held as if I am more than a tool. Even bladesmiths aren’t as gentle, they feel steel and believe they can be as rough as they’d like. Zoro tells us you only use your hands to create, nourish. I did not understand until now what he meant by that.’

Sanji frowns, it’s weird to have a sword tell him something so .. sweet? He slides his hand over the cording he just fixed. ‘Thanks, it means a lot coming from an overgrown toothpick like you.’

He feels the blade shudder in indignation, it falls off Kitestu in waves. ‘Take me back. I do not wish to spend anymore time with you, Cook. Wado is right, you are an annoyance.’

Ouch. It sort of hurts being told that the only sword he kind of likes thinks he’s annoying. He leaves the boy’s cabin and brings Kitestu back to Zoro where he belongs. Zoro barely looks up when Sanji shoves the blade in his face, but when he goes to set it down next to the freshly cleaned Shusui he pauses. Then he lets out a loud cackle that makes Sanji freeze.

‘What?’ The swordsman just keeps laughing and shakes his head. ‘Nothin, Cook.’ That only makes him want to know more, so he steps closer. ‘No, what’d he just say?’ He points to the blade that sits on the bench, and despite not touching it he can feel a distant taunt coming from it, Zoro lets out another laugh.

‘Say it to my face, bastard!’ He knows he must look ridiculous yelling at a piece of metal, but he can feel the stupid thing making fun of him. It pisses him off that he can’t fully hear what it’s saying and something tells him that if Kitestu wanted to, he could say it directly to him. But he’s not. And Zoro is being absolutely useless.

‘I’m gonna throw you in the god damned ocean.’

#one piece #sanji #zoro #zosan #kind of ?#Zoro tells his swords about sanjis Thing with his hands bc they think it’s weird he only uses his legs #none of them really get it #but then Kitestu feels the care he puts into fixing it and then he kinda Gets it

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flicklikesstuff · 3 months

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Idk if anyone else has noticed this but no one brought it up so…..

Remember how Viv said that Husk refuses to embrace his demon form and thus, doesn’t use his wings often for flight?

And yeah, we never see Husk fly at all prior to Ep 8. In Ep 3, we see him sneak away from the battle exercise, despite the fact that if Vaggie really did throw him, he could’ve easily just flown and skipped it. But he didn’t. And at least we know why.

(Hence, I just have this headcanon that Husk just secretly never knew how to properly fly ever since he first arrived.

Because he felt like he didn’t need to. He had his powers and can handle himself. He used to be a powerful Overlord. And even now, he’s currently under Alastor’s ‘protection.’ Basically, just never really found a reason to learn it, couldn’t be bothered, and simply just because….He doesn’t wanna.)

But then the threat of the extermination came and everything he grew to care about was at risk. And what does he do?

He flies.

For the hotel. For his friends.

He even went to see if his bf Angel’s alright. What a sweetie :))

Since Husk presumably doesn’t do flying a lot usually, it makes sense his back would hurt so much from the excessive strain his wings had to do all of a sudden. He’s not used to this much of flying. Heck, even his poor wings completely drooped to the floor!

He literally gave his back out for his friends- :((

This is going to delve a little bit into headcanon territory from this point onwards. You don’t have to read down if you’re not interested. ⬇️

……..

So Personal Headcanon:

I like to think that in Ep 7, while Vaggie is away with Carmilla and Charlie with Alastor, the other 4 were up to their own shenanigans off screen.

I honestly thought their friendship didn’t get to develop as much as I wanted it to. Especially the interactions with Sir Pentious and Niffty weren’t a lot. The series just established them as close friends and expects us to just take it as word but didn’t really show it much. Maybe Pentious’ death would hit harder if we actually saw him get closer to the others rather than being made fun of all the time.

Anyways, back to the HC, these 4 bonded some more while boarding the place. (Awww, all without being told by Charlie).

And since they knew they’re going to be up against FLYING angels, Angel commented that Husk’s wings can be put to good use for once, rather than just being displayed.

Husk was insecure and got defensive at first, eventually sheepishly admitting he doesn’t know how to use them. Slightly opening up how he hates his current form. While Angel and Pentious were confused at first, they both didn’t make fun of it any further. (Because yay! Development! Charlie would be proud.)

Husk warms up a little and claims that “Fine, he’ll try for the hotel’s sake but this is a one time thing…blah blah blah.”

Cue Pentious using and teaching his ‘expertise’ on flight from his machines. Angel smirking every time a clueless Pentious discusses the forces of “Lift, Drag, Weight and…ahem. Thrust.” Meanwhile, Husk attempts to ignore Angel but fails to resist smirking back at times. (Because I know Huskerdust fans love collecting crumbs) And later on, Niffty insisting she wants to be the one to push Husk off the balcony for practice.

Which, she does. On Angel’s count of 3. But she pushes him before Angel could even begin counting. Pentious debating and suggesting whether it’s better for the trial to do it ON 3, BEFORE 3, or start from 1. Regardless, Niffty messes each trial up. And Husk is just regretting everything in this nightmare his 3 friends call “training.” This is just one of their many shenanigans btw.

Eventually though, Husk did get the hang of it….somewhat. He could glide, take off and hover. But couldn’t really stay up long or fly high because his muscles and stamina for flight are terrible since he doesn’t do it often. Thus, why Husk stays very close to the ground during the final battle and only flies short distances. But the 4 considered it good enough.

(Angel made a joke on the “lack of stamina,” and got thrown in the face by a bottle. But yeah, all of them had some fun to a degree and became more emotionally bonded. All before Charlie and Vaggie came back with backup. Woohoo!

Hopefully they won’t see a particular snake die in front of their eyes-)

If any of y’all want to make a fic of this concept, be my guest. The only condition is that you share me the link :))

#hazbin hotel #if you couldn’t tell already- I love this kitty cat :3 #hazbin headcanons #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin sir pentious #huskerdust #chaggie #ramblings #vivziepop #hazbin spoilers

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wineauntie · 3 months

Text

CEILINGS — luke hughes x childhood bestfriend!reader

summary: being childhood best friends with luke hughes starts to become a problem when you realise you can’t fathom a future without him.

notes: this took me so long to write but I love it, and maybe I’ll write a part two?? also take a shot every time I make direct reference to the titular song atp 🙏

warnings: borderline nsfw content, MDNI, fem!reader, reader has not-so-great parents, panic attacks, alcohol, swearing, nicknames such as: pretty girl and baby, swearing, questionable moments on both of your behalf, boys being jerks. Use of names Brock and Julia (if they’re your names change it!). The name Brock being slandered, these two are lowkey toxic, cheating.

word count: 8.5k+

On a Friday night at eighteen years old, you should've been out with friends causing chaos; at least that's what all the books and videos on Tiktok had suggested, yet you'd been lying on your bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling ahead of you, your hands interlaced on your stomach. You only shifted slightly when you'd received the text. There was only one person whose notifications hadn't been muted, so as soon as the twinkling sound chimed, your hand darted to your phone.

"Back porch, five minutes, we're going for a drive :)"

You'd let yourself smile as you sat up from the bed and replied to him with a thumbs up.

You had been best friends with Luke Hughes since birth. It's an odd thing to say, you admit, but it was the truth. Your mom and Ellen had been college roommates and when they both fell pregnant, your mom with her first child and Ellen with her third, they like to claim that they knew the two of their children would be best friends.

You saw the Hughes family as often as your family could. Your families would meet up for major holidays, video call on birthdays, and send and receive cards for any occasion. And despite the physical distance often created throughout your childhood, you and the Hughes brothers were close.

So when your parents took permanent residence across the street from the Hughes family a few years ago, you were delighted.

Your parents worked hard to provide for the family, and due to their long hours, you often spent your teen years within the Hughes household. From the moment you moved you and Luke had hit it off right away, it was as if an unspoken bond formed like a secret handshake between two souls destined to intertwine. Luke, with his mischievous grin and infectious enthusiasm, became your steadfast ally in navigating the rollercoaster of youth.

As the years unfolded, so did the subtle shifts in your dynamic. The innocent playdates evolved into late-night conversations, and the familiar comfort between the two of you began to carry a hint of something more profound. Unbeknownst to you, the heart that once beat solely for friendship found a new rhythm in Luke's company, an unspoken sentiment growing like a quiet bloom in the garden of their shared memories.

You brushed off all the signs of anything other than friendship. He was your best friend. You couldn't allow yourself to feel that way about him. At eighteen, the two of you had thrived as friends and everybody knew that where you went Luke would follow and vice versa.

You slipped on your shoes and made your way downstairs. Your parents were working, leaving you with the house to yourself, a fact Luke knew all too well. As you approached your back porch you saw Luke standing outside, a pair of keys dangling in his hand. As you slid open the door, you shot him a quizzical look.

"How on earth did your mom let you take her car?!" You questioned, shutting the door tightly behind you.

"Don't sound so surprised," he rolled his eyes, as the two of you made your way back towards the road where Ellen's car was parked.

"But I am surprised…Luke, you're not a great driver," you deadpan, your arms crossing as he opened the passenger door for you to hop in. You shoot him a look before climbing in carefully.

"You crash into one mailbox, one time and all of a sudden it's 'you're a bad driver, Luke.'" He scoffed to himself as he closed your door before getting in on his side.

"Except it wasn't just one mailbox, it was five and you took them out one after the other," You argued with a raised brow and a knowing smile, your eyes tracking him as he put the key in the ignition.

"Whatever, do you want milkshakes or not?" He asked, tilting his head towards you. Your protests died behind your closed mouth. "Hm…That's what I thought."

"Whatever," You mimicked, turning up the radio as he drove. "I'm on aux though."

"Fine!" Luke scowled,

"Fine!"

—

You and Luke had pulled into the public park and exited the car with your milkshakes in hand as you two made your way towards the benches, ignoring the brewing dark clouds overhead.

These benches were a sacred space to you two. Every debrief, every apology, every important conversation tended to happen on them. You two didn't exactly know when they became sacred but they were now and the two of you cherished the open space.

"How are things with your parents," Luke started as he sipped on his shake, whilst you situated yourself cross-legged on the bench.

"They're…good," you trailed off, giving him a pointed look as you drank. "Still fighting, still avoiding coming home until they have to. I don't really pay attention to it anymore."

"Fuck, y/n," he sighed, shaking his head. "Why don't you just come stay with us for a while? Y'know Mom and Dad love having you over."

"I know," you nod, your head falling to your chest. "I just…it's better if I'm home, Lu."

Luke frowned but made no attempt to push his idea any further upon noticing your discomfort. The quiet settled over the two of you as you both sipped at your drinks. You knew all too well that Luke had more to say about the matter but, you also knew he wouldn't continue once you'd shut him down.

"Besides, they don't argue much when I'm around," you added, causing Luke to roll his eyes at your false nonchalance.

The rain began to fall in delicate droplets, a soft pitter-patter on the leaves above as the once clear sky morphed into a canvas of ominous grey. You and Luke exchanged knowing glances as the first raindrops kissed the ground.

Abandoning your sacred benches, you and Luke started a brisk walk towards the car, milkshakes almost forgotten in the face of the unrelenting downpour. The once serene park transformed into a dance floor for raindrops, and you could feel the wetness creeping into your shoes.

The droplets turned into a gentle drizzle, gradually evolving into a torrential downpour. You paused in your tracks, letting the rain engulf you as it soaked you to your skin. Your head raised towards the sky with a small, childish grin, feeling your hair stick to your face and neck.

"Y/N, c'mon," Luke called out as he faltered, just steps ahead of you. He found himself doubling back and latching his on yours as he urged you to move. You lowered your head back to normality and snapped back into reality as you resumed running towards the car.

The moment you reached the vehicle, you swung open the door and hopped inside, the interior providing solace from the relentless rain. Droplets clung to your clothes, and as you settled into the driver's seat, Luke glanced over, a mix of worry and amusement in his eyes.

"Looks like we picked the wrong day for milkshakes," he remarked with a half-smile, wiping rainwater from his face.

You chuckled with a hint of resignation in your voice. "Typical us, right? Managing to find ourselves out in the middle of a storm despite the perfect weather earlier." Luke huffed out a laugh, his hands smoothing back his hair. You moved in your seat wincing as the dampness sloshed in your shoes. "Urgh, My shoes are full of water!" Your face screwed up as you whined.

The car's interior provided a cocoon of warmth, starkly contrasting the cold rain outside. Luke fumbled for the keys, and the engine roared to life, drowning out the sounds of the raindrops on the roof. Silence enveloped you both, the rhythmic beating of rain against the car forming a backdrop to the unspoken words hanging in the air.

As the car pulled away from the park, you stole a glance at Luke. His profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard lights, revealed the familiar contours of a friend who had weathered many storms with you. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were carefully pursed. The question about your parents lingered, unsaid but not forgotten.

"You know, Y/N," Luke finally spoke, taking a deep breath and breaking the silence. He kept his eyes on the road. "I know I said it before but, our house is always open to you and maybe you don't want to and that's fine. But I don't want you to be lonely in that house. Alone is fine, lonely…not so much."

Your gaze met the side of his face, gratitude and a touch of sadness reflecting in your eyes. "I know that, Lu. More than you know." Your quiet voice replied, you moved your pinky towards his and looped it through. "I promise I'll come over if it gets bad."

Luke nodded and let his pinky squeeze yours momentarily before you let go as a pained understanding remained etched on his features. The car continued its journey through the rain-soaked streets, the cityscape blurred by water-streaked windows. Unspoken sentiments lingered, intertwined with the melody of raindrops and the hum of the engine.

As you parked the car by your home, the rain showed no sign of relenting. Your eyes wandered out of the car window towards the house when you spotted both of your parent's respective cars in the driveway. At the sight, you found yourself tensing, Luke's eyes examining your stiffened figure.

You exhaled shakily, trying to mentally prepare for the arguing as you and Luke exchanged a silent acknowledgement, a shared understanding that some storms couldn't be avoided. With a sigh, you braced yourself for the inevitable.

"I'll walk you to the back porch," Luke decided, his eyes unmoving from your crestfallen face. Your eyes glanced towards him and with a silent nod, the two of you exited the car and into the rain.

Luke grabbed your arm as you both ran towards the back of the house, trying your best to avoid slipping. As you rounded the house, the boy pulled you beneath the shelter of the porch, his hands around your waist as he moved you towards the back door.

"It's always like this!"

"Why do you always make a big deal out of nothing!"

Your tense body froze in your steps as Luke crashed into your back. The loud and harsh arguing voices of your parents faded away as you shook nervously. The world around you faded, and even Luke disappeared from your view, the only thing you were able to process was the rising swell of panic.

Luke sensed the sudden shift in the atmosphere as your body tensed, your breaths becoming shallow. Panic, like an uninvited guest, seized your senses, and the echoes of your parents' heated voices blended with the drumming rain, forming a dissonant symphony in your ears.

He gently steered you towards the car, concern etched across his face. The raindrops blurred with your welling tears as you fumbled to find solace in the familiar cocoon of the car. Luke slid into the driver's seat, his hands gripping the wheel with a reassuring firmness.

The confined space intensified the swirling chaos within you, the reality of your parents' constant battles tearing through the fragile facade you maintained. The world outside blurred, and Luke's voice reached you like a distant echo.

"Hey, look at me," he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours. "Deep breaths, Y/N, okay?"

His words appeared as a lifeline, a desperate attempt to anchor you amidst the storm raging within. You nodded, albeit shakily, and followed his guidance, inhaling the air that hung heavy with the scent of rain and exhaling the suffocating grip of anxiety.

As Luke continued to coach you through each breath, his voice a steady rhythm in the chaos, he sensed the need for a stronger anchor. Tentatively, he reached out, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise of support. The warmth of his touch cut through the icy tendrils of panic, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

The rain painted a rhythmic tableau on the car roof, a lullaby attempting to soothe your frayed nerves. Luke's presence, a constant in the turbulence, became a lifeline, a connection to something stable amid the chaos.

But even the most steadfast anchors can falter in the face of relentless storms. Your panic intensified, a tempest of emotions threatening to engulf you. Luke, watching with his own panic brewing. He'd never seen you in this state. Sensing the urgency, he wracked his brain for any idea or thought to try to calm you down. He ran a stressed hand through his curls before he turned towards you.

"Please, don't hate me," He begged with a mumble as he leaned closer to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your trembling lips.

The world paused.

In that stolen moment, the rain outside seemed to quieten completely. The unexpected touch of his lips against yours sent a shockwave through the tempest within you. His hand lifted to cup your cheek whilst your heart raced, just this time not in panic. Time seemed to stand still as the kiss unfolded, a moment suspended between the echoes of arguments and the rhythm of raindrops. Luke's kiss, an uncharted territory in your shared history, left a lingering warmth amidst the storm.

When he pulled away, uncertainty clouded both your gazes. The rain continued its symphony on the car roof, a backdrop to the unspoken revelation that had just transpired. The world outside the car, soaked and chaotic, mirrored the complex emotions swirling within.

"Luke…," your voice faltered, words caught in the whirlwind of conflicting feelings.

"Y/N, I…," he began, his expression a mix of regret and longing.

The revelation hung between you like a suspended note in the silence, a chord struck amid chaos. The car, once a sanctuary, now felt like an arena where unspoken truths echoed louder than the rain outside.

"I didn't know what to do," Luke finally spoke, breaking the tension. His gaze held an intensity, a vulnerability laid bare in the confined space. "I'm sorry…But seeing you like this, I couldn't stand by and watch you suffer."

His words resonated with the implicit sentiments that had lingered between you, the undercurrents of something more profound than friendship.

"You kissed me," you whispered, the realization settling in.

"I did," Luke admitted, his eyes blinking carefully as he searched yours for any sign of lingering panic.

You took a deep breath, the weight of unspoken feelings lifting, replaced by a newfound clarity.

"Luke, I don't…I'm just," you finally stammered, you're head was swimming into the depths of the unknown. You're fingers brushed against your lips as the moment replayed through your head. It had felt like a movie as if one of the countless romcoms you'd watched on repeat decided to possess your life.

"Yeah, no, forget it, you don't have to say anything…I'll walk you to the porch again," Luke rushed as he offered, his hand finding yours as a silent reassurance. Disappointment flooded your stomach as your eyebrows creased. The rain had transformed from a tumultuous force to a gentle drizzle, once more, as you stepped out of the car.

As you approached the back porch, Luke's once mischievous grin, and infectious enthusiasm, now carried the weight of what had just happened.

The porch creaked beneath the two of you, the voices from inside your house now dimmed. You silently moved towards the back door as you pushed open the door. You turned to face your best friend, where Luke's eyes met yours. You felt your gut twist as your gaze lingered on him, your eyes pleading for anything to be said.

"Thank you," you muttered, your eyes welling up as you stepped inside, leaving the rain-soaked porch and Luke behind.

You and Luke hadn't spoken of the kiss since that moment. In fact, it took three weeks for the two of you to stop avoiding each other and to fall back into step with your usual banter, yet there was an extra weight on the conversation, straining it for the both of you.

Luke Hughes had known you for approximately eighteen years, four months, and three days…and for approximately fourteen years, five months and two days, he knew he'd been in love with you.

The kiss you'd shared in the car two months ago had sparked every nerve in his body, and he'd found himself swept up by the tide and deposited on the remote island of not knowing what the hell to do. Especially since you'd never said anything else about the kiss after it's happened. The two of you had just moved on as if nothing had happened, and Luke hated it…even more so when you'd found yourself in a relationship of sorts with a boy on the football team.

The football team!

And to make matters worse, his name was Brock!

Brock! As if his parents had sneezed whilst writing out his birth certificate.

Luke had to watch with pain as you'd sit with his arm around you, laugh with, flirt with, and kiss him instead of doing all those things with Luke.

So, when you'd called him crying, asking if he could come get you from a house party, he was already out the door and in the driver's seat of his mom's car.

You were sitting on the curb of the pavement, your hands cradling your chin as you cried. Your phone has died as soon as you'd texted Luke your location. A cold breeze swept over your bare legs and arms, despite the fact they were huddled to your chest.

Your teary eyes watched as the familiar car pulled up in front of you. You wanted to sob in relief as Luke hopped out and practically ran towards you. You allowed him to wrap you in a hug, the warm embrace causing you to cry harder.

"Jesus Christ, y/n/n," Luke cursed as he pulled away. "Where's your coat? It's freezing out here!" He pulled away and yanked off his jacket before carefully laying it over your shoulders. "What happened?"

"Can we please go?" Your broken voice destroyed all of Luke's frustration. He nodded stiffly and helped you stand before he escorted you into the passenger seat, helping buckle you up as you sunk into the familiar comfort of the car. He shut your door gently and crossed back over into the driver's side.

"Y/N, if someone did something–" Luke started angrily as he shut his door firmly, his hands turning the key in the ignition.

"Brock's been cheating on me," you cut him off, your tears still falling. Luke looked towards you in shock, his mouth slightly agape.

"That bastard," Luke swore, unbuckling his seat belt as he began to move as if to storm down the street to the house party.

"Please, can you just bring me home?" You sniffled tearfully, "I just want to go…" Luke paused, nodded stiffly and restarted the car once more.

The car rolled smoothly through the quiet streets as you sat in a cocoon of Luke's jacket, warming up from the chilly night air. The silence between you spoke volumes, echoing the unspoken feelings and unresolved tension

Your head was splayed against your forehead as you leaned against the car door. Your head was a mess, the night taking its horrible toll. The engine hummed softly, a backdrop to the heavy air thick inside the car.

It didn't take long for Luke to finally turn to you, his expression a mix of concern and frustration which immediately softened upon seeing your tear-streaked face. "Y/N, don't cry. You deserve better and you know it." His eyebrows furrowed as you looked away.

"I know, Lu, but it's not that simple." You sighed, wiping away lingering tears.

"Yes, it is." His jaw clenched, and he spoke with an intensity that betrayed his emotions. "You deserve someone who treats you right, not someone who leaves you on the side of the road crying."

The truth hung in the air, but you hesitated to acknowledge it fully. "Luke, can we just…talk normally?" You begged.

"Yeah, of course, y/n/n." His voice quieted, as he nodded. His fingers tapped nervously against the steering wheel.

"Apparently…He's been cheating on me since the start of our relationship," you whispered, daring to glance towards Luke, whose fists tightened on the wheel. "I only found out because I wouldn't sleep with him tonight…he said something along the lines of; "This is why I find it elsewhere"…" You let out a dry laugh, your tears rolling down your cheeks.

"He said he'd been sleeping with girls every time I wouldn't 'put out'." Your teeth sunk into your lip as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to tip over.

"I've never…" you paused, wondering if this conversation would cross the line from a causal friendship conversation into TMI. "I just wanted to be sure that I really liked him before I…" You trailed off, waving your hand as you looked towards the window again. "But that moment never came, I never felt like I wanted to…hell, I've only known him a month!"

Luke was quiet as he indicated down the street both you and he lived on. His jaw was clenched in fury, his mouth pursed to try to keep the frustrations from pouring out.

"I'm going to kill him," Luke finally uttered as calmly as possible. "He's a dick, y/n/n…"

"Yeah…" you mumbled, your eyes moving towards Luke's shadowed figure. "I won't stop you, he is a dick…I just thought that he really liked me.'

Even if you didn't wholly like him.

Your throat tightened at the afterthought while Luke pulled up outside his house. You'd looked away shamefully at your thought because, truth be told, you liked the idea that Brock could like you. You just thought that with time, you could like him too. That your heart could be swayed away from loving your best friend. Your face screwed up at the idea as you let out a shaky exhale.

Your eyes darted across the street to where your empty house was, sadness overwhelming you as you peered out. Things with your parents had gotten worse lately, and now they wouldn't speak to each other, and you got caught in the silent crossfire.

"Come on," Luke swung your door open. You were so caught up in your misery that you hadn't even realised he'd left the car. "You can stay the night in mine… Mom and Dad are gone to visit friends out of state."

You didn't bother to argue. You knew at this stage it would be pointless. You also knew that you didn't want to return home to the weight of your house's silence. You walked side by side with Luke up the driveway, your hands curled around his jacket over your shoulders, ensuring that it wouldn't slip.

The front door creaked open, and you both stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The familiar scent of your home enveloped you, offering a strange comfort amidst the chaos of emotions. You stood awkwardly, something you've never done inside the house. Luke examined your face before he quietly led you to his room, a familiar space that held the echoes of so many memories. The dim glow of his bedside lamp cast shadows on the walls as he led you to sit on the bed.

"I'll let you change into something more comfortable," Luke offered, gesturing towards a drawer with spare clothes. You nodded in appreciation, feeling a wave of exhaustion and vulnerability.

Luke was a giver. You'd known this even when you were little. He would give out kindness and laughter so easily, so freely…at least to you he would. You wanted to cry again at how caring he was being in this moment. You'd felt so selfish calling him earlier to come and get you but he'd been the only one to jump into your mind when you'd stumbled out of the house.

"These will probably fit," he stated, holding out a t-shirt and sweatpants toward you. You looked up at him, his soft brown, pleading eyes. You gulped as you stood once more and moved to the bathroom to change.

As you changed, the reality of the night's events sank in. The weight of betrayal, the unravelling of a relationship, and the unexpected solace found in Luke's presence all converged within you. When you emerged from the bathroom in Luke's oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, he was sitting against the headboard of his bed, a concerned expression etched on his face.

He patted the space beside him, and you sank onto the bed, the mattress providing a soft embrace. You couldn't even begin to count the number of times the two of you had fallen asleep on this bed together after watching movies or talking all night, so sitting with Luke was no unusual feat. The silence hung between you, laden with unspoken words and shared understanding. His eyes traced the contours of your face, his concern deepening.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for tonight. You didn't deserve that," Luke spoke softly, his sincerity resonating in the hushed room.

"Thanks, Lu," you whispered, your voice wavering. "I just wished he didn't affect me like this…we were only casual. He said he didn't like to label things."

He shifted closer, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, offering a silent reassurance. The warmth of his presence acted as a balm, soothing the raw edges of your emotions. A small, grateful smile played on your lips as you leaned into his comforting embrace.

"You know, I've always hated that guy," Luke suddenly confessed, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "But seeing you like this just makes me want to punch him even more."

Despite the heaviness of the situation, a soft laugh escaped your lips.

Oh, that laugh…Luke thought he'd never hear a sound more beautiful than that laugh. His eyebrows slightly scrunched together as he grinned lazily at you.

"I mean, who names their kid Brock? It's like setting him up for a lifetime of being a jerk."

You chuckled, the weight of the evening momentarily lifted by Luke's playful banter as you looked up at him. He was still talking animatedly, his rage settling so as not to take his anger for Brock out on you in any way. You watched with gentle eyes as he spoke, your bottom lip between your teeth as your thoughts drifted.

"What's wrong?!" Luke suddenly questioned, his eyes wide as if he'd somehow upset you.

"I thought you mightn't come get me…" you admitted carefully.

"I'll always come for you, you know that, right?" Luke stated seriously, his breath tickling your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded. "I know, Luke… I just thought that…" you found yourself guiltily trailing off.

The room fell into silence, the only sound being the rhythmic breathing and the distant hum of the night outside. Your eyes met Luke's, and in that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you. It was as if the weight of unacknowledged feelings lingered in the air. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something to happen.

"Luke," you started, your voice soft, "we haven't been the same since that kiss…I've noticed it, and I know you've noticed it. I was scared you wouldn't come because it would be too awkward."

Luke's eyes widened slightly, and you could see a mixture of surprise and anticipation in them. The air in Luke's room thickened with tension, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

"I've noticed it," Luke shamefully admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the delicate balance that had settled between you.

"It meant something to you, didn't it?" you ventured, your gaze searching his eyes for confirmation. "That kiss?"

Luke hesitated, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own. "Yeah, it did," he finally answered, his voice laced with honesty.

The admission hung in the air, and a charged energy filled the room. Time seemed to slow down as the unspoken tension between you finally surfaced. Luke's hand found yours, fingers intertwining, and a warmth spread through both of you.

"I don't know why I chose that moment, y/n/n, I mean, I shouldn't have," Luke confessed, his eyes never leaving yours. "But that kiss… it was everything."

Your heart raced as you let out a small gasp. You felt as if the world was playing a cruel joke. This couldn't be real…this wasn't allowed to be real. You'd been suppressing your feelings for so long, all for what? For him to kiss you and admit that it meant something- meant everything? This was a sick and cruel game sent from the universe, and you no longer wanted to play it.

"Everything?" You repeated nervously, your eyes falling carefully to his chest.

"Everything," Luke's velvety voice confirmed as you raised your fingers to trail along his jawline. He sucked in a shallow breath, as you pushed yourself up closer to him, your nose almost touching his.

Before he could speak again, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. It felt like a culmination of years of unspoken emotions, a release of feelings that had been bottled up for far too long. Your thumb stroked his cheekbones as you leaned further into the kiss.

The kiss unfolded like a carefully choreographed ballet. Your fingers creeping towards the curls at the nape of his neck, whilst his hands found solace in the small of your back. It was a dance of exploration, a nuanced ballet of tactile discovery that resonated with the silent poetry of longing and fulfilment.

Your breaths synchronized, creating a rhythm that echoed the heartbeat of your connection. He tasted like a blend of strawberries and nostalgia, while you savoured the warmth of his embrace, a comforting refuge from the chaos of the world.

Your kiss grew more desperate as his fingers gripped your waist, your fingers lightly tugging his hair. In a swift move, Luke had pulled you on top of him, so that you straddled his lower body, your lips unmoving from his. You felt the vibration of his groan rumble through you as you shifted on his lap, pushing to get as close to him as possible.

You felt Luke's hands pull you towards him, provoking you to let a small gasp slip as you rolled your hips against him. Another groan ripped through Luke as he pulled away. He shifted, attempting to hide what was happening, but he couldn't fool you, you'd felt him grow harder against your thigh. His forehead leaned towards yours as you both caught your breath. Your hand lingered in his hair, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Y/N…we shouldn't do this, not tonight," Luke spoke, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he nudged your nose with his.

"I want you, Lu," you murmured with shut eyes. "I want it to be with you."

"Open your eyes, pretty girl," Luke softly ordered, to which you immediately obliged, a fluttering sensation erupting in your stomach. "I need you to tell me that you are okay right now. That you want this one hundred percent, I won't go any further until you are."

"Luke, I trust you more than you could ever know," you state, your voice steady and clear. "I want this to happen with you."

Luke felt himself fill with pride at her words as he nodded. He leaned forward to capture your lips once more. You melted into the embrace whilst his fingers moved under his T-shirt on your body and traced circles along your warm skin. You careened into his touch as he moved away from your mouth and let his lips kiss down your neck.

"I'm going to take this off now, okay?" He murmured against your ear as he tugged on your T-shirt. You nodded but felt him pull back, his fingers tapping under your chin so you'd look at him. "Words are important here, y/n/n… I want to make sure you're comfortable at every step."

"You can take it off," you say breathily, as his fingers slid along the hem.

"Good," Luke hummed and cautiously lifted the shirt over your head. He let out a small breath of air upon revealing your bare torso. You'd taken off your bra when you'd gotten changed earlier, and now you were more than thankful for that. "Fuck, pretty girl," he cursed with a small smile which caused you to bashfully bow your head.

Luke moved your chin once more, so you could lock eyes with him, his golden brown searching your gaze for any hesitance. "If at any stage you want to stop, you say it, y/n," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair out of your face. "You won't hurt my feelings, and I won't be mad. I mean it…you say stop, and everything stops, no matter what."

You flushed at his punctuated words, your chin bobbing before you remembered what he'd said previously.

"Alright," you agreed whilst your hands curled around his shoulders. "I promise."

With a satisfied nod, Luke's hands were back on your waist as he manoeuvred you, so your back hit the soft mattress, with him hovering over you. Your fingers clutched at the collar of his jumper as you pulled him down towards you, frantically moving your lips to his. Your head fell back against the pillow as Luke resumed his kisses down your neck. Your fingers tugged through the soft curls on the back of his head as you writhed beneath his touch.

"Luke," you gasped out, your lip trembling in desire as he moved towards your chest, his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of the sweatpants you wore.

"You are driving me crazy," he groaned out, his eyes flickering up towards you. You looked down at him with half-lidded eyes as he pressed delicate kisses down your sternum and stomach, stopping just above your pants. "Please, can I take these off, pretty girl?" His voice sounded desperate as if you were depriving him of the only oxygen left on the planet.

"Yes…please," you stammered whilst he chuckled lowly and placed his lips momentarily on your hip before he pulled the sweatpants down, his eyes unmoving from yours. You felt a series of goosebumps spread across your body as he gently removed the article of clothing from your legs and flung the pants across the room.

"Luke," you whined as his fingers crept up your thigh almost teasingly. "Need more…need you, please!"

You felt the soft whisper of breath against your leg as Luke moved to sit up on his knees and yanked his jumper and T-shirt off in one fell swoop. Your jaw fell open at the sight, your fingers reaching out to brush his bare skin. You'd seen him in this state before, multiple times in fact, but this time was different, it was as if the light had shifted, no longer basking him in the shadows but allowing the light to shine solely on him.

"Oh, y/n/n," he sighed with a lazy grin as he looked down at your almost naked form. You squirmed beneath his wandering gaze, your hands moving to cover yourself. He tutted and took both of your hands in his and placed them on his shoulders, his eyes continuing to drink you in.

With the way he was looking at you, you would've thought someone had shown him the moon for the first time, pointing out its effervescent glow and the white, comforting light that washed over the world's darkness dousing it with hope.

You watched with bated breath as he pressed kisses down one of your arms right down to your shoulder, where he nestled his head in the base of your neck.

"I don't know how I lasted this long without you like this." He murmured against your hot skin, his fingers traipsing up your leg to hold your knee to his side. Your breath caught in your throat at the movement, your blown pupils following him at every move he made. "I'm going to ask one last time, pretty girl, are you sure about this?"

You gently lifted Luke's head so that you were face to face with him, your breaths mixing as he waited for your reply.

"Surer than I've ever been about anything," you say definitively, watching as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Luke grinned as he pressed himself against you, the only thing truly separating them being the scraps of fabric on their lower halves.

The room was charged with anticipation as Luke's lips found yours once more, the shared understanding and unspoken emotions weaving a delicate tapestry between you. At that moment, as your bodies intertwined, you both surrendered to the magnetic pull that had lingered since that unforgettable kiss in the car.

You sunk into the warmth of Luke's embrace offered solace amidst the chaos of emotions, creating a sanctuary where unspoken feelings found their voice and where your bodies intertwined and breaths synchronized, a newfound understanding emerging.

The unspoken tension that had lingered for months finally surfaced, and with heartfelt admissions, the connection deepened. The night became a canvas painted with shared vulnerability and the beauty of acknowledging long-suppressed desires.

You glanced at the clock on Luke's bedside table as it blinked the red, vibrant numbers of three forty-three am. Your bare body lay buried under the weight of the bed sheets and Luke's forearm around your stomach. The ache had settled between your legs, leaving your nakedness and his, as well as the mottled purple at the base of your neck as the only evidence of your night together. His body was pressed into your back, the steady thrumming of his heart lulling you. His other arm was stretched out, lying beneath your head as you fiddled with his fingers.

This was quite possibly the loveliest thing you'd experienced.

It was the perfect comfort from the chaos of your life. He was the perfect comfort. You shifted carefully, turning over as Luke let out a soft groan, pulling your body closer to his. Your lips tugged upwards as his arms engulfed you as if you were his favourite childhood teddy bear. You leaned your head to his chest, relishing the familiar warmth that it offered.

He was so cute, you'd thought, staying as still as possible as his head had moved to lay just above yours. Even in his sleep, Luke seemed to want to protect and cradle you from any and all harm. You wanted to scream from the rooftops just how much this boy meant to you, just how much you cherished him, but if that meant disturbing the serenity that has blossomed in the aftermath, you would be willing to wait.

You curled into him, your legs intertwining with his as your breaths steadied, and you allowed the calmness of sleep to wash over you.

–

You'd felt the bed shift beneath your exhausted body as the boy beside you stretched out his limbs with a silent yawn. The soft glow of morning seeped through the curtains, casting a warm hue on the tangled sheets and two intertwined bodies. Your eyes fluttered open, hazel orbs meeting yours, as his usual, familiar smile graced his lips. Luke's sleepy eyes met yours, a lazy smile gracing his lips. The remnants of the night's passion lingered in the air, a shared secret between you two.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice a low, soothing rumble that echoed the tranquillity of the moment. You couldn't help but return the smile, fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest.

"Morning," you whispered back, savouring the quiet intimacy of the dawn. The world outside seemed distant, irrelevant compared to the cocoon you'd created in that bed. Luke's fingertips danced lightly along your back, sending shivers down your spine.

Neither of you rushed to break the spell. Instead, you let the morning unfold in a slow ballad of shared glances and gentle touches. The room held a hushed reverence as if it knew that something sacred had transpired under its roof. You smiled and stole a glance at the clock again, realizing that the world beyond the four walls of the room was stirring awake. The hushed whispers of the morning and its distant sounds seeped in, reminding you that life, with all its complexities, awaited just outside the window.

Eventually, the need for words emerged. Luke's fingers found their way into your hair, his touch a silent reassurance. "Last night…" he began, his gaze searching yours for understanding. You nodded, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken connection that had formed.

"Was incredible," you confessed, your voice a mere whisper. Luke's eyes sparkled, reflecting the mutual sentiment. There was a certain vulnerability in the air, a fragility that made the connection between you two feel both precious and precarious.

"But how are you feeling?" Luke asked as he leaned in pressing a lingering kiss beside your temple. You felt electrified at the action, a surge of emotions flooded through you—gratitude, contentment, and a twinge of excitement for what lay ahead.

"Luke, I'm fine…" you grinned, your eyebrows scrunched as you looked up at him. "More than fine…in need of a shower, but other than that, great." He let out a light laugh, his arm tightening around your shoulder as you made no attempt to move.

The weight of the morning sun intensified, casting a spotlight on the vulnerability of your exposed selves. The soft glow highlighted the curves and edges, all of the imperfections that made your shared space even more beautiful. You marvelled at how the sunlight painted Luke's features, turning him into a masterpiece of warmth and affection.

As the day beckoned, you realized the outside world would soon encroach upon your found haven. Responsibilities, obligations, and the relentless march of time would demand attention. But for now, in the soft embrace of the morning, you were suspended in a delicate equilibrium.

Luke pressed another tender kiss to your forehead, a silent promise of continuity in a world that thrived on change. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation of his lips against your skin. The world outside faded away, leaving only the rhythmic beating of your heart and the shared breaths that anchored you to the present.

And then it was over.

The morning bliss passed by far too quickly for your liking and before you knew it, you were dressed in Luke's clothes and heading back towards your house. Luke stayed at your side, his arm around your shoulders as he escorted you across the road. You relished his lingering touches and his softened eyes as the two of you approached the empty house.

"So…" you spoke, standing in the open doorway, looking up towards the boy. Your hands fiddled beneath the cuffs of his oversized jumper that you adorned.

"I like you, y/n," he blurted out as he scratched his head nervously. "I like you a lot, and if you don't feel the same, that's fine. But I'd like to know–"

You stepped out of your house and pulled Luke down with a small smile. Without another word, you crashed his lips to yours, his hands clasping your waist as the two of you moulded together. His hands locked around your waist, holding you as close as possible, your hands twirling around his curls– the curls you loved.

And as you reluctantly parted from him, a trail of electricity lingered, your fingers lifting to your lips giddily. His head remained bowed down towards you, his brown eyes, the eyes you cherished, scanning yours with a lazy smile.

"I like you too,"

- The two of you were keeping your blooming relationship on the lowkey. It wasn't that you were ashamed of it, or that you two weren't ready for that step but because you didn't think you could face the reactions of your families.

The Hughes would be delighted, of course. Ellen always teased that the two of you would end up together. The only people who wouldn't be as delighted would be your parents. Hell, you weren't sure if they'd be mad because you had a boyfriend or because their own love was falling apart.

And so, you and Luke had kept it between the two of you…at least around your respective families.

And it honestly hadn't been too difficult to do so.

You two continued to act as you had when you were only friends… just with a few more lingering touches and devouring kisses. You were certain a few of your friends had picked up on the difference but if they had, they didn't say anything and you were determined to stay in that state.

And a week later, you and Luke were in his mom's car again. Ellen and Jim had flown up to Vancouver to visit Quinn and watch him play, leaving Luke with an empty house, one in which you had been staying over in almost every night, tucked into the comfort of his arms.

Luke's hand was placed on your thigh as he drove, his thumb smoothing figures of eight over the expanse. You hummed along to the song echoing over the radio, your fingers scrolling through messages upon messages from your parents and friends. Luke squeezed your leg slightly as the car pulled up towards a remote house, currently filled to the brim with high school seniors.

It was one of the final parties of the year, a farewell hurrah for your last year of high school.

"You okay, pretty girl?" Luke asked, his head tilted towards you as he smoothed his hand up and down your thigh.

"Mhm…" you hummed with a smile across your face. "Just thinking."

"That's never good," Luke joked, causing you to lean forward and hit his chest in false rage.

"Yeah, yeah," you rolled your eyes playfully, unbuckling your seat belt but as you went to grab the door, Luke hissed in offence and practically sprinted around the car to pull open your door for you. You snickered as you jumped out of the car. Luke slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards his chest as the two of you walked towards the party.

The music filtered out into the night air as Luke and you walked straight into the house, instantly becoming engulfed by the smell of alcohol and sweat as people bristled around the home. Your hand laced with Luke's as the two of you manoeuvred through the crowd. The two of you spilt into the kitchen, with Luke grabbing you a drink and passing it back to you. He had agreed to drive the two of you home, meaning you were able to have a few drinks.

For the majority of the night, the two of them had remained in each other's grasp as you talked to friends and danced to the outrageously loud music. You'd been ripping away the drinks, a soft buzz filling your veins just enough to heighten your giddiness without distorting your reality.

Many people shot you and Luke questioning looks when he held you close to his chest or when he pressed lingering kisses along your neck and cheek. The two of you were wrapped up in your own little bubble, enjoying the last bit of freedom before the end-of-year exams.

"Gotta go to the bathroom," you yelled over the music as you broke away from Luke's hold.

"Want me to come with you?" He replied, his fingers traipsing down your arms.

"I'm alright," you grinned, kissing his neck gently before walking towards where you believed the bathroom was. You passed through the kitchen before you felt yourself being pulled back.

You turned around only to turn ashen as Brock's tight grip on your wrist pulled you closer to his body. You stiffened immediately, his face hovering just in front of yours as you tried to carefully pull away.

"Let go, Brock," you ordered as calmly as possible. His narrowed eyes scanned your face, his grip unwavering.

"You're screwing Hughes?!" He spat, the faint waft of beer on his breath flooded your senses. "You wouldn't let me fuck you but you're screwing him?"

"We're broken up…you cheated on me," your voice was trembling but your straight face remained as such. "Let me go."

"Bet you were screwing him when we were together too," he sneered, yanking you again. He was so close now that his nose brushed yours as you tried to pull away. "Bet you screwed everyone but me, but I'm not complaining…you have all kinds of diseases, don't you?"

You jerked away from Brock with teary eyes, your bruising wrist now free of his grip. Your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't even begin to say anything before you ran towards the bathroom, cutting past the complaining queue and locking the door.

Tears fell freely as your shaky hands rushed to brush away your tears. You couldn't focus on anything else at the moment, bar your growing want to be in Luke's arms and within the comfort of his gaze. You took a few shaky breaths in before you rushed out of the bathroom, ignoring the dirty looks and comments people in the queue threw at you.

As you navigated your way towards the living room, you kept your head down, your tear-stained cheeks flushed as you pushed passed people so determined to make it to Luke. You knew he'd soothe you, he'd hold you close and patch up your cracked soul.

"Y/N!" A girl, you recognised to be Julia, who was in your homeroom popped in front of your vision blocking your view of the living room. You stumbled back and met her panicked gaze as a fake smile plastered across her face. You knew it was fake, hell you were practically the queen of fake smiles.

"Oh…hi," you mustered, "if you'll excuse me…" As you tried to move around her, only to find your way blocked again.

"You really don't want to go in there," she almost begged. You could hear the pity in her voice, as her hands tried to prevent you from entering the room. You pushed her away in confusion, as she winced and moved from the entry of the living room.

"What the hell is your problem-"

Your words died in your throat as your eyes landed on the scene ahead of you.

Luke Hughes, your best friend, your safe haven, the boy you liked(...loved!), was tongue-deep in another girl's throat as people whistled and watched them around the living room.

His hands were on her cheeks as they often were on yours. His eyes shut as the girl careened at his touch. You felt your heart promptly drop to your stomach as you remained frozen in your place, your body vibrating in hurt.

He didn't even look up once.

It all crumbled down as you felt your stomach churn and you couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the betrayal. You clutched a hand to your throat as you burst through the crowd stumbling out of the house, dry-retching as you made it outside. Julia followed you outside, her hand caressing your back as you heaved.

Sobs tore through your body at the chaos that the night had unfolded. It was as if none of it was real. His words, his loving touches, his kisses, his embrace all of it was fake!

You'd trusted him and it was like the version of him you knew didn't exist!

You cried as Julia murmured to you, her hand running over your hair as she sat you down on the curbside outside of the house. You welcomed her comfort and despite not knowing her all that well, you found yourself spilling every last thought to her.

You sobbed as you confessed your love for him, how he was your first, how he said he liked you, how you'd grown up with him, how this would kill the only solace you had in life. And she listened. She listened and held you, as the party continued inside.

It was over— your perfect, dream of a romcom-esque love had come to an end, and you never even saw it coming.

#wineauntie #luke hughes x reader #hughes brothers x y/n #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x you #luke hughes #x reader #nhl x reader #nhl

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coryosbaby · 1 year

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STEPSISTER AND ETHAN?HER SECRETLY RIDING HIS COCK DURING A MOVIE NIGHT.

Ultraviolence- E.L & C.M

(pt. 2)

Fandom: “Scream Vi”

Pairing: Stepbrother! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader, Chad Meeks Martin x fem! Reader (not in this chapter), Ethan Landry x Chad Meeks Martin (not in this chapter)

Warning: dubcon, slight sliiiight mention of vomit and suicide (but not in a serious manner), stepcest (stepsister x stepbrother), public sex in front of relatives (the parents are completely clueless), scent kink, dom! Ethan, dark! Ethan, sub! Reader, p n v, squirting, finger sucking, degradation, possession, rough sex

A/N: 😱 how have I not thought ab stepbrother! Ethan before ??!! Thank you for this. The way I wrote the whole situation is literally so unrealistic but fuck it we ball. Literally going to write so many more stepbro fics now and am totally making this a series 😘 this is pt 2! Pt 1 is already posted <3 luv u

“Care if I sit here, sis?” Ethan’s voice is laced with sarcasm, and you cringe.

It’s movie night, and your mom and Ethan’s dad are sprawled out on one couch. The only spots left are the ones on the smaller couch with two seats. The lights are off, and Ethan is standing above you, a large green comforter clutched in his ring clad hands. The light of from the television makes him a warm silhouette.

You give him a thin awkward smile, mumbling a small “yeah, sure.”

He grins, but there’s a mischievous look to it that doesn’t sit right with you.

“Great!”

He plops down beside you, covering his tall form with the blanket. He moves close to you, even though he has a whole other half of the cushion to take up. Your face flushes when you catch a whiff of his cologne, and you have flashbacks to a few weeks ago.

A flashback, it seems, that racks you with a shit ton of guilt.

You cant stop thinking about it. About how Ethan threw you on top of the kitchen counter when your parents were gone a few weeks ago and fucked your virgin pussy open. Can’t stop thinking about how his hands had felt, how his cock had felt.

You shiver, and your stomach twists in knots. What the fuck is wrong with you? This whole thing is sick. He’s your stepbrother, for god’s sake!

Ethan’s fingers gently skimming along your knee cap is what pull you out of your thoughts. You narrow your eyes at him, not in the mood for his antics right now.

But, as usual, Ethan doesn’t know how to fucking listen.

“Sis, you’re practically freezing. You should move a little closer and share the blankets with me.” Ethan suggests. You are freezing, but you aren’t going to admit that.

You scoff, and then roll your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Watch your mouth, young lady,” Your mother scolds from across the room. “And be nice to your brother!”

Brother. You might throw up. In fact, jumping off the roof sounds like a very good idea right about now.

“Whatever.” You mutter, and scoot closer to the the boy next to you. Your mother turns her attention back to the movie as Ethan’s dad wraps his arms around her.

Ethan’s scent gets stronger, more prominent, now that your arms and legs are touching. You notice that it’s not just his cologne that smells so good; it’s him. Just, completely and utterly him.

You really do hate yourself right now.

Ethan throws the blanket over the two of you and he begins to slowly lift you and sit you down on top of him. You stiffen, his closeness in such a public setting confusing you. Does he just want you both to get caught?

“Oh, look at them, Wayne! They’re bonding!” Your mom gushes when she sees Ethan holding you. She’s so naive.

‘We’re certainly bonding all right, but not in the way you want, mom.’ You think. You move around to try and sit correctly on Ethan.

And then you feel it. Big and hard, pressing against your ass. He’s hard.

In front of your fucking parents, too. Jesus, this motherfucker is demented.

You try to ignore it, you really do. But your pussy has a mind of its own, and Ethan isn’t making it any easier. His thigh flexes and pushes the muscle against your soaking pussy. He seems calm, but his grip on your hips is a dead giveaway. You try not to gasp, to moan at the feeling of the friction against your swollen little clit. It’s difficult.

“Oh! See, Wayne? This is my favorite part.”

Your mom’s voice cuts through your wild thoughts, and your face gets hotter than it was before, if possible. She doesn’t deserve this.

Ethan’s hands rest on your upper thighs now, and you feel the coldness of his rings against your skin.

He’s breathing quietly down your neck, and you feel him adjust. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when your lightly lifted by his strong arms, while he moves his sweatpants down. You try to act calm when he lowers you back down and his big cock is resting in between your pussy and his thigh. And then, when Ethan sees that your parents aren’t looking, he presses a light kiss to your neck.

“Be really still, angel. Don’t wanna get caught, do you?” He whispers, lips against your ear. You shake your head.

He chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

You clench. And then, you feel the boy gently pull your sleep shorts and panties to the side. He lifts his cock and presses the tip into your tight hole, and you almost whine. He already feels so good. Why does he feel this good?

His cock is wet, and you can feel his pre cum spreading around your outer lips. You cringe when you hear the faint sound of your creamy wetness sliding around on his dick. It’s hard for him to stick it inside, really. You had only had sex once since before this moment, that time a few weeks ago. The stretch burns, and Ethan’s above average size doesn’t help. But you sit, and you take it like a good girl. And eventually, slowly, while slightly readjusting you, Ethan’s cock slides all the way in. You feel filled to the brim, and ashamed. Your parents are still watching the movie. Your mom has no idea that her sweet little girl is getting impaled by her stepbrothers big dick.

And then Ethan just…stays there. He doesn’t move, or even try to, and you don’t understand how he can physically handle it. Because as of right now, your thighs are almost shaking from the feeling of being filled. You know you’re soaking, can feel your juices trailing down onto Ethan’s balls and his sweats. You can feel his cock throbbing, can feel all 9 inches and every vein. Your walls clench down on him on accident and you feel his breath hitch.

You smirk. If he wants to play dirty, you can too.

You clench again, your hands going down into the blanket to run your fingers over his balls. He inhales sharply, and his fingers go up to put your arms in a tight grip.

“Stop it.” He growls, his tone low. You lean back to whisper in his ear in a hushed tone.

“Why don’t you make me?”

All of Ethan’s willpower is trying to stop him from plowing you straight on the fucking couch. He can smell the intermingling of yours and his arousal dripping down his cock. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

God, you smell so fucking good.

Both of your thoughts are interrupted when the both of your parents sigh tiredly. The end credits. Ethan’s dad looks incredibly tired, barely even acknowledging the both of you and saying goodnight as he throws you the remote.

“If you guys aren’t going to go to bed anytime soon, just put on something else.”

Ethan’s head is leaned back against the couch, his chest heaving slowly at the feeling of you. Your face is hot, for obvious reasons. Your mom frowns at you.

“Honey? Are you okay? You look a little sick..” her hand goes up to feel your head and Ethan adjusts his hips. You gasp, but quickly cover it up with a cough.

“I’m f-fine mom!” You smile, all teeth. “Just a little tired, that’s all. We’re probably going to watch the wizard of oz… or something.”

Your mom looks at you both strangely for a moment, but decides to shake it off. Both you and Ethan give her a sheepish smile as you begin to actually turn the wizard of oz on as a distraction. She goes upstairs, and lastly, you and Ethan are alone.

As somewhere over the rainbow plays, Ethan instantly throws you onto the couch, shoves his fingers into your mouth, and pounds you so hard that you can feel his tip kissing your cervix. He reaches down to rub your soaked clit, the sound of your wetness prominent.

He begins speaking in a hushed but growling whisper. He’s angry, most definitely. And his full intention is to take it out on you.

“You dirty fucking slut.” He sneers. “Think you can get away with the shit you do? The shit you say? You’re lucky our parents were here tonight, or I would be spanking that cute little ass until it bleeds.”

You let out a cry, one thats muffled by Ethan’s fingers, one you hope doesn’t catch the attention of your parents upstairs. You can feel that elastic in your gut start to snap, can feel yourself letting go.

And then you literally ejaculate onto Ethan’s cock and balls.

He grins down at your squirting pussy, his teeth shining. Your sobs and moans are muffled by his hand, and he gives your cunt a light slap.

“Yeah, squirt all over that cock, baby. Fuck, just wait until mommy and daddy aren’t home. Gonna ruin this fuckin’ pussy, sweet thing.”

He watches your hole as he spreads it apart with his fingers, watches your greedy walls suck him in. Your face is contorted in pleasure, looking up at him like he’s God. His eyes are completely black, almost evil. As he looks at your precious face, your fragile body, possession overtakes him.

Family be damned, you belong to him.

#Ethan Landry #Ethan landry x reader #Ethan landry x fem! reader #Ethan landry smut #stepbrother! Ethan landry #stepbrother! Ethan landry x reader #dom! Ethan landry #sub! reader #stepcest #scream 6 #scream

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lynxgriffin · 11 months

Text

Eldritchrune - Story Setup and Character Info

Start | Next

Full text transcriptions under the read more:

Hometown was once a quiet, largely rural community…until, as often happens, much larger powers decided to move in. An expanding empire takes over the land around the small community, and the old town is now surrounded by a rapidly growing fortress and city. A more threatening military presence is felt, and poverty quickly creeps in as the expanding empire takes advantage of the residents still in Hometown.

[Image of a smaller, more rural Hometown with a much larger city and fortress walls behind it]

While the younger generation at least attempts to adapt to all the changes, the older generation deeply resents this intrusion into their old home. Many of the elders, including Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr, Father Alvin, Mayor Holiday and her husband Rudolph, form their own tight-knit group that soon spirals into a cult.They’re a small community with no means of standing up to an empire’s armies. But, there’s always been old whispers of things far more powerful and terrible…old gods and strange horrors that hail from a Dark World parallel to their own. The cult focuses their attention specifically on tales of a Dark Prince, a goatlike entity made of fire and shadow that can pacify any enemy. Surely, if they can gain the favor of something so dark and powerful, they’ll have a means of driving away all of these intruders and restoring Hometown to the way it used to be.

However, as everyone knows, trying to call up old gods demands sacrifices. Mayor Holiday, having gotten the group together, tries to take the brunt of this duty and first sacrifices her daughter, December. However, it seems to be a botched ritual, and nothing useful results from it, leaving the Mayor extremely bitter. The other elders are tasked with picking up vagrants or other troublemakers to try and successfully complete this ritual, but none seem to work.

Unwilling to offer up their own dutiful son, Asriel, the Dreemurrs instead adopt an orphan from the poverty-stricken streets of the encroaching city: Kris. However, they find that upon adopting them, Asriel quickly forms a close bond with Kris. Asriel, like most of the younger generation, is unaware of his parents and grandparents’ intentions. Kris is not easy to take care of sometimes…they have weird interests, aren’t very clean, and are often disobedient. Despite this, Toriel and Asgore find Kris growing on them, too. The thought of sacrificing them gets harder and harder to swallow. [Image of Kris and a human Asriel hanging out together and talking while Asriel sits at a writing desk. Toriel and Asgore look on the both of them from a nearby doorway.] However, the other elders start to pressure them, questioning why they’re so intent on keeping this weird orphan around. Aren’t they a symbol of everything going wrong with their little community, and with this invading modern future? Toriel continues to put it off, using the excuse that she is doing extensive research to make sure that they finally do this ritual correctly. While she is indeed conducting research, she also knows that they can’t do anything with Kris as long as Asriel is around with them.

However, when Asriel is offered an extended stay at the city’s new university to get advanced training as a scholar, the Dreemurrs don’t have an excuse anymore. At the other elders’ behest to do what’s necessary for the good of the town, they decide to conduct the ritual with Kris. The cult brings Kris to an underground shelter in the woods outside town, with Kris none the wiser about their intentions until they are incapacitated and unable to escape. Toriel’s extensive research pays off, and Kris is appropriately sacrificed to the Dark Prince. The ritual causes them to vanish from this plane, seemingly dead…but there’s still no sign of the old god they were trying to summon.

[Image of Asgore, Toriel and other older townsfolk, dressed in various goat or deer masks and robes, with Asgore carrying Kris towards an altar.]

The Dreemurrs are distraught at this seeming failure, after they worked so hard to ensure that they did this right. The remaining elders double down, though, insisting that they have to keep trying. Asriel returns from his training, and is devastated to find his sibling missing. Toriel and Asgore, unable to admit what they did, lie to Asriel and say that Kris had a huge argument and left home on their own. Asriel vows to search for them and bring them back home, and while his parents try to dissuade him from this, they’re unsuccessful.

[Image of Asriel stepping out the door of his home, a large backpack slung over his shoulder, and waving off Toriel and Asgore in the foreground. They stay indoors while he heads out into the world.]

Meanwhile, unknown to anyone in the Light World, the ritual was actually successful, and transported Kris to the Dark World…right into the home of Ralsei, the very Dark Prince they were trying to reach! Ralsei is delighted to finally have an actual human from the Light World visit him! Sure, he’s heard about all those previous sacrifices, but they never actually got to him. The Dark World and the afterlife aren’t really the same place, after all. [Image of Kris floating down into a new Dark World, where Dark Prince Ralsei stands next to a large cauldron and welcomes them.]

Kris, however, is infuriated and despondent…they’ve already had a very hard life as an orphan, and now just when it seemed like they had a new family they could trust, that trust was broken by adults who once again threw them away for their own purposes. Ralsei, ever cheerful, assures them that they must be here for a reason…and that he has a means for them to not only return to the Light World, but get retribution for what’s happened to them and their Hometown.

[Image of the silhouettes of many large eldritch beasts: Susie, Noelle, Berdly and Catti.]

The Dark World is full of eldritch beasts, strange demons and old gods, after all. He can grant them the forbidden knowledge and ability to speak to and even command these eldritch beasts. Once they form a strong enough bond with the beasts, and make it through the bound gods that may bar the way, they can bring them back to the world of light…and command them to do whatever Kris would like to the people living there. However, such power and ability comes at a high cost…Kris’s human soul.

[Image of Kris giving their soul to Ralsei; the soul emanates a red glow between them.]

Kris, seeing little other option and not feeling much attachment to their humanity anyway, agrees and sells their soul to the Dark Prince Ralsei. Ralsei excitedly promises that he’ll take extra good care of their soul, and that he’ll accompany them as they befriend the eldritch beasts lurking in the Dark World. This arrangement certainly has some other benefits for Kris, too…in addition to this forbidden knowledge, Ralsei’s control over their soul grants them a degree of invulnerability. If Kris dies or is somehow psychologically destroyed, Ralsei can use it to revive them completely.

[Image of Kris, now decked out with armor and a sword, standing on a cliffside looking out over the Dark World. Ralsei stands nearby.]

Ralsei gives Kris suitable armor and weaponry for this venture, and the two set out into a vast Dark Realm of strange horrors, lost cities and twisting paths in search of new friends and a means back to the Light World. While Kris is unsure about this journey at first, Ralsei is all smiles, excited for them to gain some friendships that they clearly desperately need! Of course, he’s excited for other reasons, too…those cultists have been calling out to him for such a long time, and now with Kris’s human soul, he can finally enter the Light World. Kris can forge the bonds they’ve been lacking, Ralsei and the eldritch beasts they find will finally have access to the human world, and the people clamoring for terrible things to happen will get exactly what they asked for. How could that not be a happy ending?

#lynx art #deltarune #deltarune au #Eldritchrune #okay I'm finally consolidating some of this!#a handy thread for reference!

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imthebadguyyy · 5 months

Note

Hey, hope you’re doing well? 😌✨ I saw you opened requests for Lewis and I thought about one where reader and him are out somewhere at an event and the subtle physical affection they have. They’re both rubbing the inside of each others arms at different moments and they’re also smiling at each other when the other isn’t looking 🤭 I miss seeing fluff so that’s why I’m requesting it 🤣😭😭

Sugar Sweet Kisses and Velvet Caresses

pairing : lewis hamilton x reader

fandom : f1

synopsis : lewis can't quite keep his eyes off at you at the fia prize giving, but little does he know you can't keep your eyes off of him either.

requested!

a/n : thank you sm for requesting and interacting it means the world to me!! and i hope your enjoy it ☺️ also this image of lewis goes so well with this prompt

warnings : tooth rotting fluff

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

while lewis did generally enjoy galas because it meant he could go all out and dress up to the t, the prize giving gala was just plain boring.

it was the same droll jokes and mildly tense atmosphere as both toto and christian made petty speeches, that had him rolling his eyes and downing shot after shot of the non alcoholic beverage that had been provided for the table he was sharing with valterri, and his girlfriend tiffany.

he was mildly placated by the fact that you had accompanied him to the awards show, finding time out of your busy schedule of recording and touring to join him, looking etheral beside him, albeit bored out of your mind as the both of you exchanged quiet murmurs of sarcastic comments and disguised smirks.

as the ceremony unfolded, you had also exchanged discreet yawns and shared amused glances behind the veil of forced smiles with valterri and tiffany, who also did not enjoy the formalities of the ceremony. you found yourself becoming very good friends with the finn and the aussie, and you had spent many a race in matching mercedes caps with tiffany, cheering on your merc boys.

even after valterri joined alfa romeo, your close bond remained, and you found yourself in the alfa romeo garage when the mercedes one became too unbearable.

muffling a deep sigh, your fingers couldn't help but fidget with the silky material of the pink Versace dress you had chosen for the night, eyes taking in the dimly lit room and all the people in it.

from the table next to you, susie shot you a sympathetic smile, and you smiled back, giggling when she rolled her eyes and pointed discreetly to the stage.

you missed the way lewis' eyes were resting on your figure, a soft smile gracing his lips as he took in the wide smile on your own lips, the way you seemed to glow like a flickering candle, glimmering softly in the chandelier light. he couldn't help but feel a warmth rise to his face as he took in the curve of your nose and your long eyelashes, glittering with the sparkly mascara you had worn, to the outline of your cheekbone melting into your round cheeks, and the curve of your lips, painted in a glittery nude that suited you to perfection.

he took in a sharp breath, feeling mildly winded as he saw the way a stray strand of hair framed your face, slipping out of the neat bun you had elected to don, to the way your skin shimmered softly from the highlighter your makeup artist had put on you.

he took in the sight of your bare arms, the matching butterfly tattoo you both had on display on your forearm. his eyes trailed down to your hands, nails done in the same shade of pink as your dress, and fingers adorned in multiple rings, many of them gifts from him.

he took in the sight of the deep pink dress you were wearing, hugging every curve of your body like a glove, eyes softening as he took in the roll of your tummy in the dress and the way your it highlighted your collarbone, letting him glimpse into the dots that formed constellations on the bare skin.

he followed the trail to the way your leg peeked out of the slit in the dress, to the heels that adorned your feet, and shook his head softly with a smile as he saw that the heel on your left foot was dangling off your toes, since clearly his earlier warning of aching feet had come true.

he smiled as he recalled the way you had raised an eyebrow at him, and pursed your lips into a pout, and told him "i can't, not wear these heels babe, i got them just for this event!"

he felt his heartbeat quicken as he thought to himself for the millionth time, how in the hell had he gotten lucky enough to be with the goddess of a woman sitting beside him.

of course mr smooth wasn't as smooth as he thought he was because soon enough you felt his eyes delicately tracing the expanse of well, you, and you had to hide a blush at the thought.

lewis was snapped out of his daze when george and his girlfriend, carmen, came over to talk to him as the proceedings took a break.

as he turned to talk to them, his hand reached for your leg, resting on your thigh, gently squeezing it reassuringly.

as he engaged in polite conversation, he missed the way that your gaze settled upon him, taking in the sight of him in all his glory.

he had opted for an all black outfit , and he looked nothing short of jaw droppingly stunning. you took in the slightly crooked curve on his nose, smiling softly as you remembered many a night of pressing soft kisses to it, to the gentle smile he wore, a contract to the rough beard he adorned, to the little gap in between his teeth that you so adored, that flashed when he grinned at people.

you took in the silky black suit he was wearing, compliments his features so well, and the Cartier pearl necklace that he loved so much. the v cut of his suit allowed the necklace to gleam, and his tattoos to perfectly compliment it.

you took in the sight of his hands, littered with tiny tattoos that held so much meaning to the rings that rested on his fingers, many of which were gifts from you, some silver some gold, fingers intertwined with your own.

you took in the sight of his hair in a bun as well, a few loose braids framing his face making him look godlike.

you could feel your heartbeat flutter as you questioned how exactly you had gotten lucky enough to be with the man who sat in front of you.

lewis' hand trailed up from your thigh to gently grasp your arm, rubbing it softly, making you smile.

it was your way of reminding each other that you loved each other so much, when there were others around, since neither of you were really keen on pda. after all, as taylor swift had once said, "romance isn't dead if you keep it just yours"

the both of you were the definition of 'private, not secret' everyone knew you were together since about the beginning of 2020, and you two showed up at each other's races and shows, galas and awards shows. but it was a rare occassion where you were blatantly affectionate in public. you were shy, and lewis respected that and kept public displays of affection to hand holding and feather soft kisses after wins.

as alex and lily joined the six of you, you moved your chair closer to tiffany's, and lewis moved his closer to yours, so the two of them could sit as well, and lewis found himself reaching for your hands again, thumb tracing your knuckles and bringing your hand up for a quick kiss to your knuckles.

you couldn't help but flush at the chuckles from the others, while reaching out to gently rest your hand on his arm, while your other hand remained interlocked with his on his lap.

it was no secret that the both of you were absolutely head over heels for each other, and everyone knew it. they saw it in the way lewis' looked at you, as if you had hung the sun stars and moon in the sky, and how you looked at him, as if he was the softest sunset and the brightest sunrise.

they could see it in the way he spoke about you on the rare occasions he did, with nothing but awe and admiration for the woman he loved.

they could see it in the way you wrote about him in your songs, how you called him a gentleman in a world of boys, or how he was as handsome as a mansion with a view.

so when the camera panned to the both of you, showing the both of you gazing at each other with lovestruck gazes, eyes sparkling softy and sugar sweet smiles gracing your lips, and when the world champion was announced and lewis' name resonated on the speakers, it only felt right to press your lips to his.

your lips met in a sugar-sweet dance, a delicate blend of tenderness and warmth. it was a kiss that tasted like stolen moments and whispered promises, leaving a lingering sweetness on your mouths—a delightful confection of affection that resonated long after your lips parted.

his hand squeezed yours softly as he got up to get his prize.

you couldn't help the proud tears that sprung to your eyes as you watched him get up and accept the trophy for his eighth title, marking his place as a race in a league of his own.

everyone stood up as he made his way to the stage, and to your surprise, everyone stood up and clapped, and ginger spice even mouthed a sweet "congratulations!" your way.

as lewis began his speech, you couldn't help but snap a picture of him earning giggles from everyone around you.

"today, I stand before you not just as an individual but as someone profoundly indebted to the unwavering support and love of an extraordinary woman. my heart is brimming with gratitude as i attempt to express the depth of appreciation for the incredible person who has stood by my side through thick and thin.

to my dearest y/n,

In the rollercoaster of life, you have been my anchor, my steady compass guiding me through stormy seas. your unwavering presence has been the bedrock of my strength, and your love, the fuel that propels me forward.

in moments of joy, your laughter has been the melody that serenades my soul, making the highs even more euphoric. and in times of despair, your comforting embrace has been the sanctuary where my troubles find solace.

together, we've weathered storms, faced challenges, and celebrated triumphs. your belief in me has been a constant source of inspiration, pushing me to reach for the stars even when the night seemed impenetrable.

you, my love, deserve the glory of this moment just as much as I do, because without you pushing me to be the best, i wouldn't be here. thank you for being my confidante, my partner in crime, and my greatest supporter.

to the woman who has turned ordinary days into extraordinary memories, thank you for being the sunshine in my darkest hours and the reason for my brightest smiles"

as he ended his speech, you could feel tears dripping down your face and watery laughs from all around you, as carmen lily and tiffany all hugged you and wiped tears away from their eyes. you couldn't help the happy sobs leaving your lips, mouthing a quiet "i love you" to lewis, who was making his way back to your table.

as he approached, you couldn't help but kiss him again, hands gently resting on his chest as you kissed him deeply.

as the ceremony wrapped up and everyone began to get ready to leave, your hands remained interlocked, even as toto and susie suggested getting dinner with all the mercedes members present at the event.

you were content. you were happy. and you were oh so in love.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : i hope this is what you were looking for!! as always likes reblogs comments opinions etc are appreciated!! ☺️

TAGS

f1 : @superlegend216 @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @ssararuffoni @theonly1outof-a-billion @ihateyougunthersteiner

all : @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ❤️

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sagesskies · 4 months

Text

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴇɪᴛʏ

✒ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ, ᴡᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ɢᴏᴅ

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴏᴡ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ. ʜᴇ'ᴅ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ @hana-no-seiiki ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴘʀᴏᴠɪᴅᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴇʟ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴏɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ.

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴡᴀʀ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴛʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ, ꜱᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ, ɢᴏᴅ ɪɴᴄᴇꜱᴛ (ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ Qʜᴇᴛᴏʜʀ), ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ. ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere Destruction Deity who, just like you and all your other siblings, was born from the remains of Kases: the strongest of the Great ones.

Yandere Destruction Deity who even then, was already an outcast from the others in the (then yet to be formed) pantheon.

Instead of joining Uren in their rebellion, they chose to spend their time doing more fun activities. Like exploring the new world they've just been born into, interacting with all the strange yet fascinating creatures, fiddling with the inventions and gadgets crafted by the Great ones, all with you, the only one among their siblings who seemed to actually get them.

Yandere Destruction Deity who spends days with you in the garden you’ve cultivated, laughing and bonding. Growing closer together.

You talk about many things; stars, Kases, your siblings, Uren, the rebellion. It was inevitable that your conversations would eventually go in that direction, they just wished it didn’t have to be so soon.

Yandere Destruction Deity who immediately tries to convince you to back out of the war when you tell them you’re helping Uren. You can’t! You’re too weak, too soft.

They’ve seen the beasts the Great ones have at their beck and call, and not to mention the giants, the cyclopes, and all manner of creature they were going to sic on Kases’ children.

Yandere Destruction Deity who begrudgingly approaches Uren, and tells you not long after that they’re going to join in this foolish endeavor. They can’t exactly leave you alone, you’ll need somebody to protect you after all.

Who cares if they themselves don’t know the first thing about fighting. All you have to do is swing some blade, right? Bah, it doesn’t matter! They’re going to keep you safe, nothing will ever even come close to harming you as long as they’re here.

Yandere Destruction Deity who soon finds that they’re rather good at this whole fighting thing, hell, they’re probably the best. Probably only second to Itia, but they were a brute who simply relied on sheer force to get what they wanted, however when it came to skill? To prowess? To the ability to wield a weapon like it was simply an extension of your own body? Nobody could beat Qhetohr in that aspect.

Yandere Destruction Deity who became an entity whose name was whispered only in the darkness illuminated by a campfire, between soldiers of the Great ones who dreaded meeting them on the battlefield, especially once they were able to harness the power of the literal void to their advantage.

They were reminded again of the overwhelming difference between the two of you when they learned that you had become a name that was spoken by hopeful prisoners who wished for you to arrive to grant them freedom, while they would solve problems with their blade, you were far more diplomatic in your approach. Convincing generals to side with Uren, and freeing the enslaved soldiers.

Yandere Destruction Deity, who even amidst the rebellion, always makes time for you regardless of how busy they get with managing their own forces. They fuss over you, and grow red with fury whenever they see a new scar on what used to be a flawless landscape.

But all worries are washed away whenever you flash them a kind smile, and assure them that all is well; “This shall come to pass.” You remind them, and they must force themselves to accept it. Regardless of how they wish they could just shield you away from all this violence, they’re stronger now, they could protect you, you could both still run away from this. However you only shake your head and tell them you’re both in too deep now to quit.

Yandere Destruction Deity who runs up to you, swings you up, and spins you around, laughing all the while. The rebellion is over, and Uren won. The both of you can retire back to your garden! And spend the rest of eternity there, just you and them. Isn’t that amazing? It’s the best thing that came out of this stupid war. Forget the fact that all these enslaved races have been liberated, who cares really? All they can think about is how you’re now safe in their arms.

Yandere Destruction Deity who isn’t all too pleased to learn that they’ve been appointed as Uren’s general for their exemplary performance during the war. What the hell? They didn’t sign up for this! They’re meant to spend their retirement with you, damn it. Yes, they enjoyed fighting, but not as much as being with you, duh. Stupid Uren! But after some convincing from you, they reluctantly accept this position.

Yandere Destruction Deity decides that this isn’t too bad, really, not when they get to put down any possible threats to your safety. There’s a lot of people who’d like to get their filthy hands on you, you know? Especially since you played such a big part in Uren winning the war. Don’t worry, they’ll get rid of all these bugs for you. It’s no big deal for somebody with their power.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is confused when they learn of Uren’s new creation: Humans. What were these things sculpted in the gods’ own image? What were they meant to do? How long could they last in a fight? Safe to say, when their questions were answered, Qhetohr wasn’t too pleased. They don’t get what’s so great about them, when they’re basically just useless flesh sacks.

Yandere Destruction Deity who still doesn’t get it when you explain to them that it’s because humans have so much boundless potential that they’re so exceptional, but they lie and promise you that they do. Even if they’re soft, squishy, and the least impressive of all of Uren’s creations, they’ll spare them. Especially since you’re so enamored with them.

Yandere Destruction Deity who gets restless when things finally become peaceful. They thought they’d be happy now that there’s less threats to you, but their body has gotten so used to fighting all the time that anything else feels strange. Any time they hold your hand, they have to remind themself to loosen their grip, and any time you come close to even hugging them they have to restrain themself from grabbing you by the collar and flipping you over then pinning you to the ground. Though… in retrospect it doesn’t sound that bad in the right context.

Yandere Destruction Deity who spreads whispers, inciting fear, paranoia, and destruction. Mortals, who had at that point established tight-knit communities, became wary of their neighbors, and it didn’t take long before conflict was starting to brew between them. Their words even affected Uren, who was growing suspicious of their own son, Ebris, the god of the Sun, who was more beloved by the pantheon than they were.

Yandere Destruction Deity who encourages Uren as they descend into tyranny. Delighting at the feeling of warm blood staining their skin once more, as they cut off the heads of who Uren perceived as treasonous. Mortals, monsters, even some who were minor gods, none were safe from Qhetohr’s ‘punishing’ blade.

Yandere Destruction Deity who feigns innocence when confronted by the other gods of their possible involvement in Uren’s change, a sly smirk on their face as they tell their siblings they don’t know what on earth they're talking about! They swear on Kases’ grave. But when it’s you who asks them if they really have no involvement, they falter at the fact that you’d think of them as the cause behind this, even if it’s true, their chest still clenches at the thought you could think of them like this.

Yandere Destruction Deity who denies it, of course they would. But the look in your eyes tells them enough. They ask you if you’re going to tell the others, and they can’t help but smile when they see you visibly hesitate. You tell them you’ll keep it a secret, but you won’t dissuade the others from trying to discover the truth themselves.

Yandere Destruction Deity who isn’t surprised when another rebellion emerges, this time led by Ebris. It was inevitable really. But what truly shocks them is when they learn that you’re joining Ebris’ faction. They knew you’d never side with Uren, not when everything they were doing now stood against you as the God of Mercy. But never did they think you’d betray them by joining forces with Ebris.

Yandere Destruction Deity who never thought it’d be you forcing them to their knees in surrender, they’ve never seen this expression on your face. So cold, yet in your eyes they can see pity, and so much sorrow and regret. It was like you blame yourself for this six decade long mess.

Yandere Destruction Deity who fully expects to receive the same fate as Uren, a beheading for all of the world to see, but is surprised when they see you speaking to Ebris in hushed tones. Your gaze flickers to them every so often as the conversation continues on. What are you doing? Are you actually-

Yandere Destruction Deity who is stunned speechless when Ebris announces that instead of a beheading, they would instead have their powers restricted and be imprisoned.

Compared a beheading, this was an improvement. Or, at least it seemed like that to others. In reality death would have been better, so much better than years locked away unable to see you.

Twas the night before Qhetohr would be locked away, trapped in one of Ularus’ inventions. The thought of being imprisoned wasn’t what bothered them, but instead being apart from you for that long.

They’ve been told tales by Nuyja, stories of husbands away at war, and of wives mourning the distance that had to be between them. It always sounded so dramatic, probably because it was, but right now they’re starting to feel like one of those wives.

As the Ofriedian metal dug into their pale, marble skin that you always admired for its flawless texture, their dark eyes caught onto something past their bars. The familiar hem of a [f/c] robe. Their eyes widened, and their suspicions were only confirmed when they saw you walk out from wherever you were hiding.

“[N-Name]?” They spoke in a whisper, like you were some animal that they’d scare away if they spoke too loudly, “Is that you?” They got up from where they sat on the cold, stone floors and approached the bars.

You pulled down the hood of your robe, “It’s me, Qhetohr.” Your voice was equally as gentle, but that was just how you always spoke. Instead of greeting him with your usual smile, your face was impassive and as impenetrable as stone.

“Have you come to free me?” Qhetohr knew better than to hope, but they couldn’t help it. Ever since they’ve been imprisoned here while Ularus worked out the final kinks in their next cage, all they had for company was their mind.

And all their mind could do to stave off the madness that came with boredom was daydream of a life with you in seclusion, on some beautiful island where you could have a new garden and they would have enough room to take out their frustrations on the wildlife.

The disappointment that followed when you shook your head was immeasurable.

“Oh…”

You are silent in response, you were never one for speaking much. You always preferred to listen whenever you talked with Qhetohr, giving your wise input every now and then. They didn’t mind the silence before, but why did it bother them so much now?

“Qhetohr,” Your voice was different as well, they noticed, colder than before, “Before you are imprisoned, I must know one thing.”

Qhetohr placed a hand around one of the bars separating you two, “What is it then?” If only they didn’t have this chunky bracelet, perhaps they could’ve reached a hand through the bar and touched you.

You took in a deep breath, and let out a shakier one. You licked the bottom of your lip, and then wrapped a hand around the same bar Qhetohr was gripping. You moved your face closer to them, and they tried not to gulp, “Do you regret what you’ve done?”

At that, Qhetohr had no answer.

You had the rare ability of being able to render Qhetohr speechless, cultivated from countless hours listening to them, observing them, and well honed through debates about topics such as the difference between the gods and the Great ones, the meaning of life, and whether or not the gods were all that different from mortals.

It was the one of the many reasons you were the only god they had a truly functioning relationship with.

At their silence, your face contorts. Your brows furrow, your lips purse, and your [e/c] eyes fill with what can only be described as sorrow. They cannot bring themself to look at you, for they do not want you to see the shame that is starting to invade their heart.

Your hand falls from the bar, and as it does it brushes against their own and they restrain themselves from reaching out to try to clasp at your warm fingers, instead tightening their grip on the inflexible steel.

When you speak, your voice is hoarse, and if Qhetohr were to look at you right now they swear your eyes would be wet with unshed tears.

“I truly am as weak as you say I am,” You speak quietly, voice barely above a whisper, “Despite the sins you’ve committed, I cannot find it in myself to hate you.”

Their eyes widen, and their head snaps to look at you, but it is too late. The hood of your cloak is pulled back up, and you’ve already turned to leave. The last they see of you is the hem of the cloak they had sewn for you themselves.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is stuck in an endless void similar to the ones they are able to harness themself, and tries to break out. Even if their powers were restrained, surely they’d be able to access at least some of them, right? But unfortunately for them, nothing works. They’re stuck.

Yandere Destruction Deity who wanders the endless void, trying to find a gap somewhere, some sort of imperfection Ularus made when creating this prison. All the while their mind races with thoughts of you. Your first meeting. Your laugh. Your smile. Your kind eyes. Your final expression as they were sealed away.

Yandere Destruction Deity who feels like they’re going insane. They’ve never spent so much time without you before. They’re starting to feel like the mortals they’ve seen on the streets during Ebris’ rebellion, deprived and hungry for the filthy substances Boztrix’s temple produced. But all they’re craving is you, the sweetest drug they’ve ever tasted. Sometimes, they swear they can see you. A specter haunting them in this fucked up hell, comforting them yet at the same time driving him down the rabbit hole further and further.

Yandere Destruction Deity who swears that they see light, in what seemed like a never-ending black landscape. I-is it you? Have you come to free him from this cage- Oh wait, it’s just another one of Uren’s children. Vetnos, god of the Sea. They can’t help but sigh, they still remember when they used to bully the god when they were but a small babe. Scaring them using their void powers whenever he wouldn’t go to bed. Perhaps he’s coming to taunt them? Something something, “How ironic that you’re trapped in the same shadows you’ve used to haunt me with,” something like that, maybe?

If Vetnos thinks he looks any way intimidating, then he’s sorely mistaken. Even bound and trapped, Qhetohr could probably take him down.

“What brings you here, insignificant son of Uren?” Qhetohr drawls, a single dark brow raised, “Here to taunt me? I thought you’d be more mature than that by now.” They can’t help but tease him, it’s not their fault that Vetnos was so fun to mess with, he always had such interesting reactions, even when he was a child.

Vetnos glared at them, eyes the same color as the sea during a harsh storm, “Silence, Qhetohr, if I must remind you, it is you who is restrained here.” Qhetohr can see it in the way that Vetnos is carrying himself, the boy is practically shaking in those leather boots of his.

“And if I must remind you,” Qhetohr sneers, and walks over to Vetnos till they were eye-to-eye, “I didn’t need my powers when I killed your father.” At that, Vetnos flinches. Dhealdir, the first God of War, and one of Uren’s lovers. Vetnos’ father was one of the best soldiers in Uren’s army, but Qhetohr was the general for a reason.

Qhetohr smirked, and then backed away from Vetnos. They cross their arms, “You still haven’t answered my question Vetnos.” They tap their finger against their bicep, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the bracelet digging into the flesh of their forearm.

Vetnos huffs, the storm brewing within his gaze tempered reluctantly, “I have come to offer you a deal.”

It was hard for Qhetohr to restrain the urge to chuckle, and so they didn’t, the sound flowing easily past their lips, “Let me guess, you want me to fight for you in exchange for my freedom?”

“What- How did you know that’s what I wanted?” Vetnos asked with a bewildered expression on his face.

“Before I was ever the Deity of Destruction, I was simply an outcast among my siblings,” Qhetohr explains, “When I sided with Uren during their rebellion, they all changed their opinion about me rather quickly.”

That’s how the gods were, unless you were able to give them something of value you were no better than the dirt beneath their heel. The only good thing about mortals is how they foolishly waste their time on things that don’t matter, they don’t care if something has a use or not, as long as they like it they’ll keep it around.

“All my family wants from me, is for me to be the dog on the leash they can sic on their foes,” Qhetohr narrows their eyes at Vetnos, “What is there to suggest that you’ll be any different.”

They smirked when they saw the vein bulge in Vetnos’ forehead and how he clenched his fists tighter, the gods never liked having their own flaws pointed out to them, it made the reality that they were just as imperfect as the lowly mortals they looked down upon all the more real.

“Anyways, how’re you going to free me in the first place?” Qhetohr asked. Ularus’ creations were annoying as hell because the bastard always built them to only have one weakness, and it was always way too complex for its own good.

Suddenly in Vetnos’ hand appeared an orb of water the size of a child’s toy ball, “Ularus always has such unorthodox solutions to his machines,” Vetnos played with the water idly, “That fact, all the gods are aware of.”

Qhetohr rolled their eyes, “And so?”

“So, I thought if you were to bind a god in a void devoid of anything except the never ending darkness,” Vetnos approached Qhetohr, who watched with wary eyes, and held the orb of water over one of their bindings, “It was best to go for the simple approach.”

Vetnos dropped the orb of water, and it splashed onto the bracelet.

Qhetohr stared, “Was that supposed to do something?” They should’ve known better than to trust the younger gods, but here they were, letting one drop a ball of water on their hand and getting it all wet.

Vetnos sighed, it was clear to Qhetohr that whatever patience he had managed to gather was already starting to run out, “You are familiar with Ofriedian metal, correct?”

Qhetohr’s gaze flicked over to Vetnos’ hand, which still hovered above their own, now soaking wet, hand, “It is older than you are, of course I am familiar with Ofriedian metal.” They sigh, “If all you are here for is to soak my hand, then I’d like you to go back where you came from-”

But Vetnos interrupted them, “Ofriedian metal is surprisingly very similar to iron,” His fist then clenches, and the water coating the bracelet seems to change and then seep into it, “And iron, as you may know, rusts.”

It started off small at first, but as the seconds passed, the change became more noticeable. The Ofriedian metal started to lose its dark color, and slowly the color of rust started to invade the bracelet. Qhetohr watched with rapt attention as one of their bindings, that after so many years, was finally showing the signs of age. They could feel the changes too, the sharp spikes that had pierced their skin when the bracelet locked itself onto their wrist were starting to recede into the bracelet.

But then, Vetnos’ hand spread out, and whatever was happening ceased.

“Fascinating…” Qhetohr murmured. If Vetnos had allowed it to continue, they would’ve been halfway over to being a free god.

“You see the power I hold now, Qhetohr?” Vetnos’ voice held an arrogance that wasn’t there before, “I am your only way of escaping this prison.” He had a smirk on his face, and despite how it frustrated Qhetohr to be so weak as to need the help of others, they couldn’t deny that this was the first time in a long time that they ever dared to hope of being free.

Qhetohr’s thoughts went back to you, as it always did during their time here. Would you be happy to see them, and welcome them back with your warm embrace? Or would you scorn them, and draw your blade against theirs? They hoped it’d be the former, but they had enough sense in them to know it’d most likely be the latter. But still, they had to take the chance that you value your relationship enough to show the mercy that you’re famed for.

Qhetohr sighed, “Fine,” They placed their hands on their waist, “What is it you want me to do?”

Vetnos grinned, “Swear your allegiance to me,” From the expression on his face alone, Qhetohr knew the younger god was giddy. He looked like a boy again, instead of the divine being that was freeing a force that he could not hope to contain.

Qhetohr considered the offer. They did not find the idea of being bound to one of Uren’s sons pleasing, but then again, there were always loopholes to be exploited. As long as they can twist their words then whatever forces above the gods would turn a blind eye to what they planned to do.

“Very well,” Qhetohr sighed, and then took a knee, “I, Qhetohr, child of Kases, and deity of destruction, madness, and the void, swear to fight for Vetnos, god of the seas, in exchange for my freedom.” They hadn’t sworn an oath of allegiance to any other since Uren, and so the words felt unnatural on their tongue.

Vetnos puffed up his chest, and had all the arrogance of a spoiled child who finally got what he wanted after throwing a tantrum, “I, Vetnos, son of Uren, and god of the seas, accept this oath, and swear to free Qhetohr, deity of destruction, madness, and the void, from their chains.”

A tense atmosphere seemed to envelop the two of them, as the entities above watched Vetnos, who approached Qhetohr and used his powers to destroy the bracelets, and the collar around their neck. When the last one clattered to the ground, a red, glowing thread appeared between the two of them, tying them together by the wrist.

Qhetohr ignored the string connecting them to Vetnos, and instead inspected the holes that the bracelets left in their wrists. They were small, and interspaced perfectly, like the pricks of a needle. That is, if the needle pierced through their skin and buried itself deep in their godly flesh.

“Since we’ve finished the vows, I must remind you of a few things Qhetohr-” But before Vetnos could continue speaking, and setting down rules that Qhetohr would be forced to follow for the rest of eternity as long as they’d serve under him, Qhetohr flourished their hand and a piece of the void that surrounded them leapt out and wrapped itself around Vetnos’ throat.

Vetnos choked on the air, as he felt the newly formed collar wrapping itself tightly, with enough force to crush his throat. His stormy blue eyes bulged out and were filled with righteous fury at Qhetohr’s trickery.

Qhetohr chuckled, “You didn’t really think I’d just let you do whatever you wanted to me, did you?” They shook their head and clicked their tongue in disapproval, “Truly, Vetnos, I thought with age comes wisdom, but clearly that doesn’t apply to you.” A wicked grin formed on their face, “But I guess that doesn’t apply to you.”

If Vetnos’ face wasn’t turning blue from the lack of oxygen, it would surely turn red from, if not anger, then humiliation.

Qhetohr stroked their chin as they contemplated what to do with Vetnos. They could kill him, which would remove the oath, but then the other gods would get suspicious. They do not know why Vetnos wanted them to fight for him, but if he went so far as to look for them of all people, then that must only mean there was a war brewing among the gods once more, and Vetnos was one of the key players.

Qhetohr’s mind wandered, going back to the last conflict they participated in: Ebris’ rebellion. As their gaze focused on Vetnos, who was only turning more blue as the seconds ticked by, they recalled Uren, Vetnos’ parent, who they were able to control with the same darkness choking Vetnos.

Their eyes lit up as an idea entered their head, and then they smirked, “Do not worry Vetnos, for this day shall not be your last,” They reached out their hand, and the void from the collar flowed like smoke to Vetnos’ gasping mouth. Vetnos’ eyes widened, and he struggled even further, moving wildly like a fish out of water.

“It would do you well not to fight it, Vetnos,” Qhetohr drawled, “Just let go, let it consume you.”

Vetnos ignored their advice, and closed his mouth, keeping his lips firmly shut so as to not let more enter him. But they simply entered through his ears, and his nose instead. Soon, as more of the void started to fill him, Vetnos’ resistance faded and then he nodded his mouth once more, welcoming the darkness inside him.

When there was no more collar around his neck, and Vetnos’ eyes held a strange gleam, Qhetohr smiled, sharp and unnerving. They did not need to speak, and Vetnos fell to his knees, and then bent his back and pressed his head against the floor, right in front of Qhetohr’s feet.

“I, Vetnos, son of Uren, and god of the seas, release Qhetohr, deity of destruction, madness, and the void from their oath.”

The string binding them snapped, and Qhetohr let out a deep sigh of relief. Finally, they were now truly free.

Qhetohr gestured for Vetnos to rise, and he did. They raised their hand, and called upon the void that had once been their prison, and it obediently followed their orders, and gathered swiftly in their hand.

Once the last of it joined in, what they held was a pure black cube. They then placed their other hand on top of it, and crushed it as one would crush a fly.

Qhetohr looked around, and was pleased to see the bright blue sky, to feel the tall grass tickling their legs, and the radiant sun that had trapped them in the first place beating down upon their pale skin.

Thoughts of you immediately flooded their head, and a smile formed on their face. Not harsh, not cruel, but instead it was one that a poet would make thinking of their beloved muse.

“Soon, [Name],” Qhetohr relishes in how the sound of your name still rolls off their tongue as naturally as their own, “I will be your steadfast companion once more, and no war will ever separate us.”

Yandere Destruction Deity who never thought they’d be able to leave the stupid box, but here they are, neck free from that heavy collar, wrists no longer being wrapped by those thick bracelets, the sun which they wish to consume with their void shining down on their marble skin.

Yandere Destruction Deity who decides to lay low for a while. Although they want to see you so much it physically hurts to be apart from you, they have to be patient, though it’s hard, they never were good at this whole waiting thing like you were. They decide to learn more about what’s happened since their imprisonment nearly two centuries ago.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is tempted to reveal themself and challenge the God of Victory to a duel to the death when they learn of the state of your relationship. No, they’re not just tempted. They need to. But for now, they’ll restrain themself. That can come later. You were always naive and oblivious to others' feelings for you, despite your seemingly infinite wisdom. They’re sure you didn’t mean for it to happen, it was surely that young upstart’s fault.

Yandere Destruction Deity who finally decides that it’s the right moment to strike, and appears at your temple. It’s the only one you have. The one they built with you back all those years ago, when things were far more innocent than they ever were now. They’ll make sure not to make too much of a mess.

They are outside your temple, the elegant, pale marble untouched by the war and devastation that has plagued the earth since they've been unleashed. Good, your house remains as safe as it was during Ebris’ rebellion.

Qhetohr’s eyes wander over the marble pillars, the sturdy roof, and the well-trimmed shrubbery; the green served as a fine contrast against the pure white of the marble. Nothing had changed much since the last time they were at your temple, and that was nearly two centuries ago. A new statue, a tree cut down, flowers blooming where there was only grass, but everything else was the same.

They walked up the steps, their heart racing faster. Qhetohr paused in front of a statue. You, not in the nude like other gods, but instead in your old cloak, head bowed and a small, gentle smile on your face. Hands clasped together in prayer. For who, even they are not sure.

Inscribed on the pedestal, are familiar words.

[Name], God of mercy, Patron of slaves and the shackled, Father of Dakmes, Ugrena, Bagbris, Ather, Rhohdos, and many heroes. Kindest of the gods.

Kindest of the gods. If a mortal were to call any other god this, they would be smited for such blasphemy. All gods were gracious, at least that was what they all claimed. But all the gods acknowledged that you were the one with the most love in your heart, and so this inscription remained.

Qhetohr entered the temple, sandal clad feet silent, face cloaked just like your statue. The fabric is as dark as the voids they summoned, the only splash of color being the gold embroidery at the hem, a match for your own.

One of your followers, young and still filled with the last flushes of boyhood, notices them first. He looks up from his sweeping, “Good day to you,” Like all your followers, he spoke slowly and with a calmness that is hard to find these past years, “What brings you to this temple?” Qhetohr noticed the discomfort in the boy's expression, he could tell that there was something strange about them but could not place his finger on it.

Qhetohr surveys the area, and finds that, save for a few other followers strewn about cleaning the floors, that it is barren. “Where are all the others?” They ask.

“They are in the libraries, or in the gardens,” The youth replies, “Why? Are you looking for one? A sibling perhaps?”

Qhetohr smirks, “Something like that,” You were more to them than just one of their many siblings, you were their only confidante, their first and only love, but to call you their brother was not wrong.

“What is their name?” The youth inquires.

Qhetohr’s eyes narrow, like a fox, and they grin, “[Name],” They supply. The youth flinches, the oppressive aura he felt was because in front of him was a deity. He falls to his knees, the broom clattering to the ground and attracting the attention of the others, who watch as he bends down and his head presses against the cool marble.

“Forgive me, lord!” The calmness in his voice is gone, replaced with a high pitched begging, “I- I did not realize I was in a presence of one as great as yourself-”

“Shh,” The boy flinches, but does not dare look up, “Stand, child.” Qhetohr has a smirk on their face, but their eyes are as cold as any other god when they meet with the boy's fearful gaze. Not warm like yours, for there was never another god quite like you.

The others watched with wide eyes as they realized who it was they were staring at, and immediately resumed their work, but their ears could not help but continue to listen.

“Where is he?” Qhetohr asks.

“Lord [Name] is in the gardens,” The youth steadies his voice, and it impresses Qhetohr how assured he sounds despite how he's shaking like a leaf, “If you’d like I can-”

“No need,” Qhetohr was already walking past him, “I know my way around.”

Qhetohr walked through the elegantly carved halls of your temple, unlike other temples, it was built during the first rebellion. From the hands of the cyclopes, who you had freed from the Great ones, and who had in return swore their lineage’s loyalty to not only Uren, but to you as well.

Perhaps that was why among all the gods of the oldest pantheon, yours and Qhetohr’s siblings, you were one of the few that remained. On the very marble hung paintings depicting your deeds, drawn by the hands of Addia herself, a Great one who sided with the gods after you had slain her husband Lilios.

Even if their eyes have seen these landscapes many times, they never grew wary of the sight of them. You swearing an oath to Uren. You freeing the Cyclopes. Your form clad in your Ofriedian armor, plunging your spear into Lilios’ neck. You fighting by Qhetohr’s side, watching their back as their blade slices through the necks of the Great one’s soldiers.

Qhetohr slows to a stop at the last one, your face is as hard as stone, yet still as beautiful as no other god has ever been or will be, and kinder than any creature on earth. They remember watching as Addia painted this one, and critiquing how harsh she had made you look. In contrast, Qhetohr’s face is one of devilish delight as blood splatters on their pale skin.

You shook your head when you saw it, “I do not want you to be immortalized like this,” You rarely complained about anything no matter how much it bothered you, “If it would not stain Addia’s name, I would have this painting burned.”

Now, Qhetohr’s name is only remembered by the bloodshed and devastation they’ve caused, and even if it displeases you, they do not deny that they prefer it this way.

Qhetohr finally arrives to the entrance to your garden, the only place they've ever felt at peace. The sound of running water from the fountain, your doves chirping, and idle chatter between those working in the garden takes them back to more innocent days, when the only people in the garden would be the two of you.

Qhetohr steps foot inside the garden, and sticks out like a sore thumb. Their black cloak, a stark contrast against the verdant green, and immediately one of your priests approaches them. “Excuse me, young one, but you are not permitted inside Lord [Name]’s gardens,” The old man speaks like he does not sense Qhetohr’s naturally oppressive aura, “I must ask you to leave.”

They sigh, this old man surely recognizes them, does he not? The paintings are still on the wall, and though they were not the main subject they were still a prominent figure standing beside you. Qhetohr’s eyes narrow down on him, “Who are you to order me around, mortal?”

The old man flinches at the sight of Qhetohr’s eyes, and his lips tremble, and then he shrieks, “I Ávyssos!” The Abyssal. Qhetohr snorts, they haven’t heard that title in years.

The other priests and priestesses look up from their work and their eyes widen at the sight of Qhetohr, who clicks their tongue and then glares at the old man, “Should’ve held your tongue,” They smirk, “No need to hold your tongue when you won’t have one, eh?”

Before Qhetohr’s words could settle in the old man’s feeble mind, they shot out their hand and a black beam shot out and forced itself into the old man’s mouth and wrapped around his tongue. Then, it crushes the tongue till it’s nothing more but a bloody mass of flesh in the old man’s mouth. He tries to scream, but he cannot.

Only then do they see you, you came as soon as you sensed your followers’ terror. Your beautiful [e/c] eyes widen in shock, and then harden, “Qhetohr,” Their name falls off your tongue like it’s an insult, “How did you get out of your prison?”

The rest of your priests and priestesses try to run away now that you’ve arrived, but Qhetohr summons tendrils made from the void that hold them in place and gag their mouths.

They smile pleasantly, “Did a bit of bargaining, but that’s not what matters,” Qhetohr walks closer to you, and their smile grows wider when you do not back away, “Aren’t you happy that I’m back, [Name]?”

When they reach out to touch you, only then do you step back, “You’re not meant to be here, Qhetohr,” You remind them, “You were in that place for a reason.”

Qhetohr groans, “Oh come on, [Name]!” They whine like a petulant child, “You were always such a stick in the mud,” Qhetohr then grins, and snake an arm around you before you could get away, “You really don’t miss me, hm?”

You push them away, “How could I miss somebody like you?” They know you’re lying, they know you better than the back of their hand. But it’s difficult to keep that smile on their face.

Qhetohr grins, and then the gagged followers let out muffled screams as the tendrils tighten around them. Your eyes widen, and they chuckle, “Be careful what you say, love,” They croon, “It just might kill these poor mortals.”

“What do you want, Qhetohr,” You’re getting afraid, afraid of them, afraid of what they could do to your followers, their grin grows forced, “Is this for Ebris’ rebellion? Do you resent me for the consequences of your own actions?”

Qhetohr snarls, and the tendrils grow even tighter around your followers and the both of you can hear the sound of their bones creaking, “I don’t! I fucking don’t, okay?” They feel like they’re a godling again, small and powerless before they ever discovered how strong they truly were, “You just- You’re not meant to be like this!”

You don’t even have to ask what they mean. “You’re meant to- You’re meant to be kind, to- to welcome me back into your arms with a big smile and-”

“Qhetohr,” Your voice is cold, “What do you want.”

Qhetohr takes a deep breath, and then smiles, “I want you to come with me.” “To where?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Qhetohr’s smile widens, “Come with me, or I’ll kill all of your followers.”

Your eyes widen, and you hiss, “You monster,” Your nostrils flare, and your fists clench. Like an angry bull seeing red. Never have they seen you so angry before, and their stomach twists from how it’s because of them. You grit your teeth, “Fine.”

Their smile grows even wider, and they summon more tendrils that wrap around your wrists like handcuffs. A chain materializes in the middle between the two cuffs and the other end is being held in Qhetohr’s hand, who tugs it towards them, “Come on, [Name], let’s go.”

“Free them first,” You remind them, and they look at your followers whose faces are filled with sorrow for you, and fear for themselves. Qhetohr nods, but instead of the tendrils disappearing, they instead wrap tighter. Your eyes widen, “I said free them, not-” But it is too late, their bones crack and when the tendrils finally fade away, all that’s left are bloody remnants of what was once a human body.

“The [Name] I knew would’ve been wise enough to make me swear to free them,” Qhetohr chuckles, “But unfortunately my dear, I cannot leave any witnesses behind.”

“You-!” But Qhetohr gags you with more of the tendrils, and leads you out of the temple. Any followers that scream at the sight of the blood covering Qhetohr, or see you in chains and try to help gets killed. Some are spared, but cursed.

Qhetohr glances at you, your face is splattered with blood, and your eyes are still wide in shock. They smile, and wipe away the blood from your face, “It’s all right,” They coo, “You’ll be able to move on, eventually.”

Yandere Destruction Deity, who finally has you back where you belong: Right by their side. They keep you with them back in those islands they claimed during Uren’s rebellion, what was it called again? Ah right, the Ivory Isles. They erect a pale tower as white as the bones from the Great one that made up the island, out of the ground, and now you both have a home suitable for gods such as yourselves.

Yandere Destruction Deity who doesn’t mind that you act so coldly, of course you would. They did kill a lot of your followers back in the temple, and there was still Ebris’ rebellion. Bumps like these didn’t just go away overnight, or they suppose over two centuries, even they were aware of that. You’ll forgive them eventually, you always did.

Yandere Destruction Deity who delights in all the small ways you’re slowly letting them back on your good side, they’re allowed to stand closer to you, allowed to hold your hand again, allowed to wrap their arms around you. Hell, one night you even allowed them to kiss your forehead, the same way you always told them you loved, because it sprouted a warmth within your stomach that spread throughout you. They wonder, as you close your eyes, what they make you feel now.

Yandere Destruction Deity who spends the next few decades puppeteering Vetnos’ body as their conflict with Aenar, dubbed by the mortals as the War of Storms, continues on. It is only when Aenar’s blade finally slices through Vetnos’ neck does it end, but they know the gods will still be too busy to find you, because they’re all too busy starting new wars. Seriously, what in Kases’ name was wrong with the newer generation of gods?

Yandere Destruction Deity who is able to spend the rest of their days in peace with you; tending to your new gardens, watching the stars together, talking about any topic that comes to mind, sometimes even sparring if they’re feeling lenient. It felt all so idyllic, so domestic. In their younger days they sparked an entirely new rebellion just because they were getting bored, but now all they want is to continue living with you peacefully in the tower.

Yandere Destruction Deity who isn’t pleased when they detect that the curse they’ve placed on that young priest of yours has been triggered, who could be the fool daring to search for you?

Yandere Destruction Deity who can’t stifle the laugh that slips past their lips when they learn that it’s the God of Victory. When they learned of your relationship with him, they decided to learn more about this upstart. They wonder what you could ever find of value in this arrogant little bastard to ever tolerate him so much. They’re excited to see what their void will do to Faius’ already decaying mind.

Yandere Destruction Deity who decides to pour more of their energy into Faius’ bracelet, just to ruin the boy further. You notice, and ask them why they’re looking so tired, and they laugh and tell you they’ve just been spending many nights sleepless thinking about you. Their flirtations are enough to dissuade you from asking more.

Yandere Destruction Deity who is surprised when it only takes four months for Faius to arrive at the Ivory Isles, but perhaps they really shouldn’t. If Faius was anything like them, then this level of dedication was to be expected. Really, the things gods do for true love.

Yandere Destruction Deity who persuades you to stay in your gardens, while they prepare for Faius to arrive at their tower. It’s been so long since their blade has tasted blood, they hope for your sake and theirs that their skills haven’t rusted too much.

Qhetohr had seen the statues of Faius, of course they did. In war it was important to make offerings to the God of Victory, but they had only done the more human-looking forms instead of his divine one, which was the one that Faius had arrived in.

What he did share with the statues however, was the way that his armor was depicted. He wore a cuirass made of Ofriedian metal, greaves from the same material, and carried with him his sword, a familiar dove carved onto its hilt that had topaz for eyes.

His eyes were perhaps the most striking thing about him, the whites of his eyes were eclipsed by velvety black and really made the amber color of his iris pop. They hardened when they came to rest upon Qhetohr, who smiled as they waved at him.

“Greetings, I take it you are Faius?” Qhetohr noticed the dark bracelet around his wrist, and smirked. They could end the battle right now, but where was the fun in that? Besides, this guy was the only one who bothered to search for you, so they had to give him some respect.

He grunts, “You’re Qhetohr, aren’t you?”

“Indeed I am,” Qhetohr beams, and then spreads their arms, “Welcome, to the Ivory Isles, God of Victory.” They chuckle, “Apologies, I couldn’t welcome you when you got on the island, I was preoccupied.”

“Save the pleasantries,” Faius takes a step closer to them, “Where is [Name]?”

“Rather impatient, aren’t you?” They sigh, and go down the stairs, “You’re just like your mother, Gholyja. How is she anyway? Still as bloodthirsty as ever I take it-”

Before they can even finish their sentence, the tip of Faius’ sword presses into their neck, “You didn��t answer my question, Ávyssos,” He hisses, “Where. Is. [Name]?”

Qhetohr raises one singular brow, and then takes a step back away from the sharp blade, “I see you’ve inherited your mother’s lust for violence,” Their eyes narrow, “Or perhaps that’s simply my own powers at work.”

Faius’ brows furrow, “This,'' He raises the hand that has the bracelet on it, “Is your doing?” They can see how much it’s affecting him. What should be a flawless face, is weighted down by the dark circles around his eyes that have a wildness to them that they are willing to bet wasn’t there before.

Qhetohr gave him a sly grin as they nodded, “Mhm, who else could possibly be giving you such delicious thoughts if not for the deity of madness themself?” Thoughts similar to the ones that were running in Uren’s head must be going through Faius’ mind as well.

Faius grits his teeth, “I’ll have you killed for this,” He promises, “And [Name] will not mourn your death.”

Qhetohr wants to laugh at that, nobody knows you better than they do. Certainly not this foolish boy with too big a head, so who was he to assume you’d feel such a way? Besides, they only needed to show you the effects of what Faius has done in search of a way to you and then you’d be recoiling in disgust at the mere mention of his name.

Qhetohr summons their blade, crafted from the void, it crackles with dark energy, “I can say the same about you, God of Victory,” They say his title like a mockery and delight in how it causes him to tighten his grip further on his sword’s grip.

Oh, how they’ll enjoy the sight of his ichor on their blade.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere imagines #x reader #yandere #Qhetohr #Faius

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pholla-jm · 4 months

Text

So Close, Yet So Far

IMAGINE: SO CLOSE, YET SO FAR ~ LUFFY X READER GENRE: FLUFF Mizpah- the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance. ********************

Luffy could have swore he saw something familiar.

Something so familiar that it made his heartbeat increase and excitement fill his body. He would recognize that form anywhere.

That’s why he didn’t hesitate to run after the familiar figure. Ignoring the calls from his nakama. Their shouts for him fell on deaf ears.

“Ugh,” Nami groans while pinching the bridge of her nose, “I swear, those ears are just for decoration.”

Luffy ran all around town, asking if they had seen this figure he saw earlier. He described this person with perfect precision, yet no one had seen them. It confused him, frustrated him even more.

He could have sworn he saw you. The hope that filled him, just from the thought of seeing you, was too great. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you multiple times and take in your familiar scent that he grew to love. But you were too far away from him.

Now that the feeling of hope was starting to fade away, another feeling replaced it. Longing filled his heart. It felt like you were just arms reach from him, but you weren’t. You were miles away, seas away even.

Luffy laughs to himself. It’s not possible that you were here. You were home, at Dawn island.

“Luffy! What are you doing?” The ship’s cook shouts at him. Luffy was silent, not really hearing his question. Sanji was quick to notice this. “Luffy, is everything alright?”

Luffy blinks a couple times, finally hearing Sanji’s voice.

“Yeah. Just thought I saw someone.” “Oh, who?”

Luffy grins widely, “don’t worry about it.”

Luffy turns around and walks the other direction.

Sanji doesn’t push it, but he thought it to be very for him to be acting this way. Maybe he was hungry? Yeah, that has to be it.

Many, many hours later, the crew was heading back to the ship. Some were drunk and half awake. Some, taking care of each other. Luffy stayed silent the whole time. Something that the whole crew found weird, but decided not to bring it up. They didn’t want to jinx their luck.

All Luffy wanted to do was head to his quarters and look at some of the things you gave him before leaving.

“I was beginning to think that no one was going to return to the ship.” An unknown voice calls out once the crew is back on the ship- well mostly unknown.

An unknown person leaned against the railing of the ship, flipping through pages of one of Robin’s books.

While everyone either drew out a weapon, ready to fight if needed. However, Luffy’s reaction was opposite. His eyes widened, mouth forming into a huge smile. He could feel his heart start to beat faster like it used to.

It was you.

The same you he was looking for just hours ago.

You looked different though. You hair styled differently, and you had a bit more muscle on you. But your voice sounded exactly the same.

A deep inhale entered Luffy’s lungs as he couldn’t contain his excitement anymore. “(Y/N)!” He shouts happily and throws himself at you.

“(y/n)?” The crew questions. Why would Luffy know this person?

Laughter fell from your lips as you wrapped your arms around Luffy’s body. His arms wrapping around you multiple times. As much as he could, just enough to let you breathe, but enough to feel you as close as possible.

“Luffy.” You breathe out with a happy smile on your face. It was surreal seeing him again. “I’m so happy that you’re here!” Luffy voices your thoughts as well. “Me too.”

“OH!” Luffy says pulling away from you, “I want you to meet my crew!” He says, pulling you towards the confused crew members.

“Who are you?” Nami questions. “This is (y/n), they’re from Dawn Island.”

“Ooh, so is this another one of your siblings?” The blonde asks.

Your face scrunches up at his words and Luffy laughs, “nah. They’re more special than that.”

“Eh??!” The crew shouts at this revolution.

“So wait… wait. What are you doing here then?” One of them asks. “Well, I got bored of waiting on the island so I went on an adventure of my own.”

You turn to Luffy with a small pout on your face. You had told Luffy that you would wait for him when he first left the island. But you couldn’t wait any longer. You were itching to leave the island, have an adventure of your own. And then find Luffy on your own.

“I hope you don’t mind, Luffy. I know I said I would wait.”

Luffy’s grin doesn’t falter, “I don’t mind! You found your way back to me!” You laugh, “of course. I’ll always find you.”

“Are you going to stay?” Nami asks. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course you’re staying!” Luffy says and relief floods you. You really didn’t want to leave Luffy again. And Luffy really didn’t want to leave you again.

You were finally here, with him. Within arms length.

#oneshot #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #luffy x you #luffy x y/n #op x reader

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