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mrsshabana · 1 month

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𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary You've been anxious to see the vampire again after that first night. And when he comes, you learn just how binding your pact with him is. Your life will never be the same. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, modern au, vampires, blood, violence, corpses, biting ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.6k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Chapter One

Each shift after your encounter with the vampire was filled with anxiety. You would come in to work, hoping you wouldn’t see him but knowing that it was inevitable. Each day that passed without seeing him your anxiety grew more and more. Would he come today? Would he come tomorrow?

Well today was your lucky day, because there he is. As soon as you walk into the examination room you see the vampire curiously examining your tools. Scalpels, knives, bone saws, siphons. He looks up at you through his lashes, vibrant red orbs glaring at you.

He looks a lot different than before. Though still dead so to speak, his skin still pale and lifeless but he looks a lot healthier than before. Not so skinny and emaciated, he actually looks muscular under the black hoodie he’s wearing.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he growls, “You should have been expecting me.”

“I-I was um,” you stutter and put your things down at the desk, “I didn’t know which day you’d come.”

“Hm,” he hums, walking around the room. Eyeing you up and down.

“I never got your name,” your voice quivers as you attempt to make casual conversation in this not so casual situation.

“Gyutaro,” he states bluntly.

“Gyutaro? That’s a nice name,” you smile slightly, trying to hide your fear. “I’m -”

“I already know your name, Y/N,” he cuts you off, scoffing as if he’s annoyed by your attempt to introduce yourself, “Can we just get to the point already? I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here for you to keep up your end of the deal.”

“Right, sorry…” you apologize and quickly put on your gloves before heading into the back room where the cold lockers are. He promptly follows you, keeping his predatory gaze locked onto you. You can feel his stare drilling holes into your back.

The two of you enter the room, the cold temperature causing goosebumps on your skin. You look over the lockers, comparing dates until you find the most recent one. Pulling the handle, you open the locker to slide the body out. Revealing the corpse of a woman in her mid 50’s who passed away only 8-12 hours ago. Then you prepare your tools and begin to siphon the blood out of the corpse, filling up the same bucket as before.

Gyutaro stands behind you, watching you with a judgmental gaze. The scent of blood fills his nostrils but he’s able to control himself this time.

Once the bucket is mostly full you present it to him with shaky hands, nervous that he may go ravenous as he did last time. But he stands there unphased, with his arms crossed - looking down at you with a raised brow.

“This isn’t good enough,” he rasps.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you furrow your brows in confusion, looking into the bucket to see what's wrong. But the blood looks perfectly normal to you.

“This blood isn’t fresh.”

“Well yeah, I have to take it from corpses. It usually takes at least a few hours for the bodies to get to me,” you whimper, feeling afraid of how he will react.

“That’s not my problem,” he steps closer to you, “It’s yours.”

“B-But you liked the blood I gave you last time,” your eyes begin to water.

He scowls and raises his voice, “That was my first meal! I was desperate for anything, I was starving…” he looks down as if he had a sad memory but he quickly snaps out of it and gets in your face again, “Would you want to eat stale food every day? Yeah, I didn't think so. So you better find me some fresh blood or else.”

“But I can’t get fresh blood! I have no way of doing something like that,” your tears slowly begin to fall down your cheeks.

“You know what happens to humans who break a pact with a vampire?”

“N-No… what?” you sniffle.

“Let’s find out,” he grins and puts his cold hand on your shoulder. Opening his mouth, showing his deadly fangs.

“Ok ok!” you panic, “I’ll get you fresh blood!” You desperately agree, not wanting to find out what the consequences are of breaking a pact with him. You have no idea how you will manage to get fresh blood, but it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice.

“Good,” he smirks and steps away from you. Though he does take the blood bucket from your hands, placing a finger inside then putting it in his mouth to get a taste.

“Ngh, that’s disgusting,” he coughs, “I’d only drink this if I was on the verge of death.”

You wipe the tears from your eyes and clean up the area. Putting the body back in the locker and cleaning your siphon before you go back to the examination room with the vampire.

He looks at you expectantly.

“What? I-I can’t get fresh blood for you that fast! I don’t even know how I’ll do it without, well… killing someone,” the thought of having to kill another human being almost brings you to tears.

“It’s not my problem that you’re completely incompetent,” he rolls his eyes, “You owe me fresh blood, and your first payment is now.”

Panicked, you look around the room. Trying to find anything to help you out of this predicament. It’s 11:42 pm, how the hell are you supposed to come up with fresh blood? It’s not like you can just walk up to a blood bank and ask for it. Let alone go to the extreme of killing someone. But you got yourself into this mess, so you have to do whatever it takes to keep your end of the deal.

You squeeze your eyes tightly and move your head back, revealing your neck to him, “Fine.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” his eyes widen in surprise and his voice softens.

“Take my blood. It’s the only option I have.”

“Are you sure…?” he takes a step closer to you, almost unable to believe you’re offering your own blood to him.

“Yes,” you nod, “I’m sure.”

He grabs your shoulders, your eyes shooting open from the sudden contact.

“Alright,” he sighs, looking down at you. His vibrant eyes staring into yours, “It’ll be easier if you lay down.”

You take a deep breath and nod. The only place to lie down is right here on the examination table. The metal feels ice cold as you hesitantly lay atop it. The fluorescent lights buzzing above you as Gyutaro looks down at you. This entire time he’s been cold and calculating, but this is the first time you’ve seen him look so unsure. So nervous.

Gyutaro carefully climbs onto the examination table, hovering above you. He can hear your heart beating, so fast that he feels like he can see the blood pulsing in your neck. His eyes dilate at the thought of piercing your delicate skin with his fangs.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. Getting closer to your neck with each second that passes. However, his movements are slow and gentle, much different than they were before.

You can’t avoid what happens next, no matter how much you wish you could. In the end, it’s your fault that you’re in this situation in the first place. So you might as well embrace it and make it as easy as possible. Turning your head to the side, you offer your neck to him.

Gyutaro slowly inches closer, the tip of his nose brushing against your ear - sending shivers down your spine.

He opens his mouth and you barely feel the softness of his lips caressing your skin before the stinging pain of his fangs puncturing your skin, sinking into your flesh and penetrating your veins.

You gasp and flinch from the initial sting, holding onto his shoulder for support. He groans deeply as your sweet blood touches his tongue, the taste more divine than anything that has ever breached his lips. He becomes lost in your saccharine nectar, losing himself in the addictive flavor of you. Without thinking he puts his hand on your waist, holding you still as he ever so slightly leans his body closer to yours.

Your fingers and toes begin to go numb, and your heartbeat skyrockets. The sound of your pounding heart is the only thing that snaps him out of it. Resulting in him unlatching from your neck just in time before you would lose consciousness.

The both of you pant heavily, trying to calm down from the intense experience. Gyutaro’s face goes red when he realizes how close he is to you and he quickly gets off of you, standing up beside the table.

You try to stand but you feel too light-headed to do so, Gyutaro puts a hand on your shoulder as if silently telling you to take it easy. You really don’t know how to feel at this moment. Scared? Relieved? Embarrassed? Probably a combination of all three, but you’re honestly just happy that he didn’t kill you.

“Thanks for being so gentle, Gyutaro…” you mutter.

His blush deepens, “Whatever… Just get me fresh blood by the end of the week. I can’t feed off of you every time. Your body won’t be able to handle it…”

“O-ok,” you gulp, “I’ll have it ready for you when you come back.”

“Good,” he hands you a piece of paper with a number written down, “That’s my phone number. Just in case you need something.”

“Thanks,” you say shyly as you stash the paper in your pocket for later.

“Just remember we aren’t friends, this is just business,” he scowls, looking back at you one last time before leaving out the window just as he had before.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyuutarou #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyuutarou x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #vampire x reader #vampire au

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ladykailitha · 28 days

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EddieHawk? *name in progress*

Listen, come closer. Steddie LadyHawke AU. I know, I know, it's been done before but they modernized it.

Picture this.

Sir Stephan as head of the guard for Bishop William (Billy) and they both fall for the beautiful and ethereal Eddie. He is the adopted nephew of Lord Wayne and crowning jewel of the small principality of Hawkins.

Sir Stephan and Eddie know that they can't wed under the eye of Prince Henry (Vecna) and Bishop William plan to run away together and elope.

Max not knowing that her guardian the Bishop is madly in love with Eddie, tells him of their plans thinking that he could help them get away.

The Bishop is enraged that they would even think of running away and with the help of the Prince place a curse on the pair.

Five years later and Robin, who is a thief and escape artist extraordinaire breaks out of the town prison which was said to be inescapable.

Sir Thomas, the new head of the guard and the Bishop's right hand man is intent on capturing her to find out how she escaped.

She just happens to run into Sir Thomas and the guard right where Sir Stephan was trying to make it back to the center of Hawkins to kill the Bishop and he accidentally rescues her.

But in their running, they move farther away from the Hawkins much to Sir Stephan's ire. When they stop for the night, even though there is still plenty of daylight left, Robin gets annoyed. She wants to get away from the bad men after, stopping now does not accomplish that. So Stephan tells her to leave.

Robin weighs the two options and stays with the buff dude with a very big sword. And strangely a beautiful raven.

Stephan tells her that if she sees a large wolf, run away. Don't engage. He will not be responsible if it eats her.

Robin is confused, there haven't been wolves in the area in decades. But she doesn't argue afraid he'll just leave her behind. He also tells her that when the sun sets to lay out the clothing in right saddle bag and do not talk to the man who comes to get them.

So she does what she's told.

Mostly.

She talks to the young man. Learns his name is Edwin, but everyone calls him Eddie. He's sweet and awkward. And if she was attracted to men, she might just fall in love with him.

The wolf appears and Robin is terrified. But oddly Eddie is not.

Come morning, Stephan is back and the beautiful man is gone. Stephan calls to the raven and he lands on Robin's arm not Stephan's. And ooh boy does that cause a stir.

"I'm gay you daft creature!" she hisses, "Go back to your master!"

Stephan laughs for the first time and the raven lands on Stephan's wrist.

But the guard has caught up with them and a stray arrow hits the raven. Stephan is distraught. Terrified.

He rides for miles, hard and fast to a small fortress. It's run by a group of outcasts. Max, El, Dustin, Will, Mike, and Lucas. All run out of Hawkins for one reason or another.

Max carries the heaviest sin by far.

Stephan yells at the gate. "Come down here and help him. Now!"

They all come running and Robin is confused.

While El and Will seek to heal the bird, Max and Dustin feed Robin. She's worried about Stephan. But Dustin tells her Mike and Lucas have him.

Robin catches Will and El covering the body of a naked Eddie with a wound in his shoulder right where the raven was shot. So she gets the truth out of Max and Dustin about the curse that binds them together but keeps them apart. At night Eddie is a human and Stephan a wolf, and during the day, Stephan is a human and Eddie the raven. Never can they see each other.

Robin is upset. That's horrible.

But the Party has a plan. They just have to get Stephan to agree to it.

Come morning the bird is fully healed and they set off again, Max and Dustin following behind. Stephan refuses to listen to their plan and insists his going to kill the Bishop will break the curse.

The bishop is tired of waiting and sends out a wolf hunter, Yuri to kill Stephan.

There is a harrowing moment that night when poor Eddie and Robin think Stephan has been caught in one of these traps, but thanks to the quick thinking of Max and Robin they kill the hunter in one of his own traps.

But it's too close for comfort. They need to end this and fast.

They travel all day, getting nearer to the city once again. When they camp at night, it's near a frozen lake that they had skirted that morning.

Only when the wolf attempts to cross it, he falls in. And with everyone's help and the big ass sword, Robin manages to save the wolf.

In the morning before the sun fully comes over the horizon, Robin makes a lean-to casting Eddie in shadow long enough for Stephan to be human long enough to see Eddie before he fully transforms into a bird.

Robin tells Stephan that she lost the sword in the lake and Stephan in his anger pushes her. She lands on the ground and he sees the great big gouges from where the wolf had scratched her helping him out of the lake.

He apologies and hugs her.

They make it to the town and Max insists that if Stephan waits until the eclipse to kill the Bishop the curse will be broke for sure. But Stephan can't trust her. Tells her to kill Eddie if he fails. If the bells ring, he's failed.

He goes in and with a sword he takes off a soldier he kills attacks Mass.

He kills Tommy but before he can kill the Bishop, one of the guards manage to ring the bell just as the eclipse starts. Stephan is gutted.

But before he can kill himself, Eddie comes running in human.

The Bishop is pissed and tries to kill Eddie with his staff, but Robin slides Stephan's sword to him and he kills the Bishop, ending the curse for good.

*cradles your face in my hands* Do you, you see the vision? Can you? Because I can.

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #ladyhawke

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the-californicationist · 3 months

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Granted (SanSan AU)

Sansa Stark inherited her family’s ranch after a series of terrible tragedies. Needing help, she hired Sandor Clegane - a washed out rodeo king. The two of them rescue a cow in the back pasture and roll around in the hay. Warnings: Modern setting AU. Pure smut propped up with the skeleton of a story. Anal. Outdoor sex.

He came in wet, the wooden door banging shut behind him, black hair plastered to his head under his beaten up cowboy hat. The rainwater was dripping from the tips of his hair and running into his worried eyes. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily from his exertion, chest heaving and ribs straining against his shirt. His jacket and jeans were soaked through and clinging to his skin, painted on his body in cold heavy fabric.

He stared right into her face, unflinching. It was as if he had a whole conversation with her in his mind, silently telling her the deepest secrets and fears and joys he’s ever known, asking her for more and more, begging her with his fiery gaze. She had never seen him attempt such deliberate and fearsome eye contact with her. He usually turned away, stared out into their open fields or down at his boots.

As if realizing his odd demeanor, when he spoke, none of the kindled flame remained in his voice. His question came out like a smooth, round stone: quiet, cold, unfeeling.

“Where do you keep the spare blankets?”

She didn’t answer him right away, instead raising an eyebrow to question his motives. He continued without her,

“Cow is stuck on the north corner, giving birth to twins. Vet says he’ll be here in the morning but they won’t last the night in the cold.”

She turned off the stove’s burner and grabbed her coat. Packing quickly, she grabbed her keys and headed to the backyard, leading him to the old barn they only used for storage these days. She flung open the side door and he put his flashlight above her head so she could see. He towered over her, eyes searching the dark barn for movement that wouldn’t be there. She flipped open two chests and hauled out the extra blankets, grabbing a canister of grain as she kicked the door shut.

Feet squishing through the mud and tall grass, they all but fell into his truck, tossing the blankets and feed into his covered bed. The engine roared to life just as a bolt of lightning split the sky apart. A threatening peal of thunder followed not long behind.

They rode in silence, and the rattling of the truck did little to fill the void. When her father was killed, and her brothers along with him, she’d been left with the Stark family farm, but she hadn’t had the faintest idea about how to run it, always preferring indoor activities when given the choice between that or shit-kicking. So, she hired Sandor Clegane, the washed up rodeo king of Wyoming turned cowhand. He was too good for the job he did. He fixed the equipment, mended fences, herded cattle, killed coyotes, and dealt with ranch barons who wanted to come in and buy her out for cents on the dollar.

The burns that scared half of his face and neck were objectively grotesque. The sheen of the healed tissue as it pulled against his jaw reminded her of cellophane, crinkled in all the wrong places. He was a master at crowd control - be it livestock or human beings. His imposing size and animalistic musculature made even the most hardened men think twice about even considering raising a challenge to him. All the better, because his attitude was that of a hungry copperhead.

He was her opposite in every way. Tough when she was fearful, strong when she was frail, bold when she was meek. But, he had brought out the wolf inside of her over the years, she had to admit. When he had first come to the farm, she could barely meet his eyes, but now she stood beside him as they stared down each challenge that wandered across their ranch’s path.

They had made more money together in the past two years than the farm had ever turned when her father had been alive, and that was why the other ranchers were trying harder than ever to make her sell. One had even sent his son over, pretending to be wounded, in hopes she’d care for him and eventually be inclined to his marriage proposal - all to find out it was a sham.

Now, looking at his hulking form across from hers in his truck, she couldn’t imagine waking up without Sandor in her life. She wondered, in more detail on lonely nights, what those huge, rough hands must feel like when they become wrapped around a person’s skin. Would they be rough and certain? Or would they be tender, knowing their ability to cause pain?

She hadn’t noticed how she was dressed for this excursion, but she was painfully aware of it now that she was shivering on the bench seat. Her yellow cotton dress, dotted with little embroidered daisies, clung to her belly and legs from the rain. Her dad’s old green sweater hung off one shoulder, the neck too worn out to fit right. A woolen shawl she had knitted years ago was wrapped around her chest. A worn pair of socks stretched over her knees, and her muddy duck boots kept her feet warm and dry.

She looked over at Sandor and caught his eye. He turned the heat up on the console and pointed his vents toward her.

“You cold, little bird?”

His voice was so dark and deep; it rumbled toward her like a landslide. He was always yelling at the hired hands and hollering at his horse, Stranger, so it was no wonder he sounded gravelly.

“It’s really coming down. Thought we were supposed to get a break,” she commented, gazing out the window across the flatlands.

“Gonna be a long night,” he lamented.

Forty minutes later and they made it to the lean-to where the cow was holed up and pleading with them through unhappy lowing. Sandor managed to fit a halter on her and keep her tied to the hitching rings, but she was in pain and they could tell.

“What’s keeping the vet?” Sansa asked him.

He patted the cow’s big neck and checked her for obvious injuries,

“Said something about going to the city for a big race horse with a broken leg. Probably heaps of money in it for him.”

She nodded, understanding but still sorry there was no recourse.

The lean-to was big enough for about ten head of cattle, and there was a small room off to the side for hay storage. She watched as the enormous cowboy pulled bales out of their storage with extreme ease and spread it across the floor for the cow to lay on. With the store room now empty, he put a hand on his hip and gestured to the wooden floor,

“Well. It’s not the Hilton. I’d offer to drive you back up to the big house but I know what you’ll say. You’ll chirp and whine about needing to be out here, so you might as well settle in.”

She turned away from the room and looked back at the tired cow,

“I know. I’m sorry, Sandor. I just don’t wanna leave her here.”

She had always called him Mr. Clegane, but after he snapped at her one night, she had finally agreed to go by first names because he was “nobody’s mister.”

He paused for a moment, thinking about something unseen, and breathed out a hard sigh. The sun was setting fast, so after he organized the cow’s tack, he ran back into the rain to grab their bags. Sandor hung the blankets and put their packs just inside the door. She sat on a hay bale and checked her phone for service.

“No bars out here, princess,” he said, dryly.

She powered it off and zipped it into her bag. The oats she took from the barn were still in the large container. She started up her small, beaten up Biolite and got a fire burning. She poured out some water from her pack and mixed in the oats with a little sugar. After a few minutes, she poured out two small cups and handed one to him. He took it carefully, but his big hands made it seem like a child’s teacup.

“Thanks,” he muttered, mouth full of porridge.

“You bet,” she returned.

“You got extra room on that bale?”

She scooted over and brushed away the top layer of straw, as if it wasn’t going to cling to him anyway.

“I brought you a dry shirt if you want it. I’m gonna change out of this dress.”

He watched as she dug in her emergency bag, admiring her quick thinking.

“I am gonna make the hands all carry those. They get stuck out here all the time with nothing but their jeans and a can of Skoal.”

She laughed brightly,

“Yeah. It was a trick I learned from dad. He always said you should be able to be what you needed to be when you needed to be it.”

She threw her hands up at Ned Stark’s family wisdom, showing her confusion and humor at her father’s unrefined lesson. To her relief, Sandor laughed with her.

“Smart man,” he chuckled.

She handed him the shirt folded. He traded her back the empty cup of oats and started to strip off his wet clothes. His jacket had almost dried but his button down shirt was still sopping wet. He pulled back button after button and she didn’t turn away at first. His undershirt hid most of the tanned, hairy skin that stretched across his huge, heavy structure. She knew he’d be hot to the touch. Sansa knew his skin would feel slick with rain and sweat. She wanted to reach out into the open pocket of his shirt and touch him and all of his scars, but she didn’t. She turned away from him when she realized her extreme rudeness.

He laughed again, crueler this time,

“Ain’t never been modest, little bird.”

She turned back to face him at that comment and shrugged,

“It’s fine. There’s just not a ton of privacy in here and I wanted to try and get you some.”

Sandor pulled the button-down over his shoulders with a quick tug. The shirt fell with a wet thud on the dusty floor and he hung it loosely on the wall. His undershirt followed it.

“Wouldn’t happen to carry my size jeans in that bag of yours, would ya?” He grinned, playing ungrateful.

“No, but I do have these,” She offered him a pair of joggers.

He eyed them in doubt. Still shirtless, he stepped over to where she was knelt down, forcing her to look up the length of him to meet his gaze. He took the pants and raised his eyebrows,

“A size medium? No way. I got too much goin’ on for that.”

“You could try them. They stretch,” she challenged, “I’ve seen you squeezing through those skinny fence slats. You might fit.”

“Oh, yeah? You been watching me crawlin’ through fences?”

She blushed against her will,

“No, you just- well, I mean you’re always-”

“I’m pulling your leg, birdie,” he winked, taking the cotton pants from her, “but this time you might wanna turn around.”

She turned back to her bag and pretended to look long and hard at her clothing choices. She could have sworn she had another set of pants but the only thing left was a big, long sleeve tee and another pair of tall socks.

“Damn,” she cursed under her breath.

“What?” He returned to her side, suddenly worried.

“No, it’s nothing. I’m just gonna change too.”

He didn’t move back as far as she thought he might, and as she began to pull off her sweater and shawl, she still felt his eyes on her.

Lightning and thunder screamed outside their sanctuary again, spooking the cow.

Sandor went over to her and petted her nose,

“Easy, girl.”

Sansa was just in her dress now and quite cold from being damp, but she took a handful of oats over to the cow and let her hand fall open. The cow put a big nostril next to her palm and then quickly took the oats into her mouth.

“She needs a better name,” she lamented, looking at the cow’s tag and then back at Sandor who was staring a little too long at the top of her sun dress, “because number 0557 just doesn’t have a ring to it.”

Her dark cowboy reached out a huge, rough hand and touched the hem of her soaked dress sleeve, feeling the raised threads of one embroidered flower.

“Daisy?” He suggested quietly, as if telling her a secret.

He didn’t let go, and she gave him a soft smile. She felt herself reaching out to touch his face, and before she could stop it from happening, Sansa was brushing back the water from his brow and wiping the drops out of his long hair. He grabbed her hand roughly and stood full height against her, making her step back until she met the wall. He pressed himself against her body, and she could feel her wet clothes soak into his borrowed pants. The rain came down in sheets outside the small barn, pounding into the earth.

“I’m going to get you wet,” she whispered, feeling awkward in the new, minimal space he created with his touch. His breath sped up at her obvious innuendo, the quaintness of it doing nothing to stop his blood from rushing through his legs to his cock.

He dropped her hand and she let it fall onto his neck and down his shoulder, still bare. His skin was heated and sticky from sweat, but before she could get very far with her exploration, behind them the cow loudly belted out a pained moo and shuffled into a prone position.

Sansa gasped from the shock of the noise and laughed. Sandor laughed with her, suddenly sobered up and now feeling entirely too close to her. She saw his doubt creep up into his face and put her hand back on his neck, curling around it, pulling at the charred skin with reassurance. His eyes returned to hers as they were before, searching her face like he was waiting on her to say something.

The pause went on for a breath too long, and Sansa began to doubt herself. Embarrassed, she bent to pull her boots off. Suddenly, like a snake strike, Sandor held her on both shoulders, giving her the same fierce expression he had displayed in her kitchen. Without warning, he grabbed the bottom hem of her dress, pulling it off of her slender body. Sansa trembled from the cold and from something else.

Her panties were wet, and her white cotton bra was soaked through, no longer concealing her pink nipples through the cloth. They ached against the cold, and as Sandor pulled the wet dress over her head, she knew he saw them, too. He bent to kiss her mouth without hesitation, almost forcing her to bend up to meet his lips due to his height.

He devoured her, sucking hard on her lips and finally on the length of her tongue. She moaned into him, and his hand wrapped around her small throat, begging to squeeze her breath tightly and make her cry out again. But he didn’t. He just held her there, kissing her skin and licking at her mouth like she was a melting popsicle on a summer afternoon. Sweet. Innocently delicious.

She found the elastic of the borrowed joggers and started to run her fingers along the length. He shuddered, his mouth pausing, interrupted by the shock of her touch. She knew he was as hard as a stone. She could feel the unimaginable length of him pressing against her belly.

She found his hardness with shaking hands, and just as gently as she could, she rubbed down his shaft with a slow, long pull. It was his turn to moan. Sandor put his head down by her neck and struck the wall with his free fist, slamming it against the wood as if he was in sudden pain. He pushed his cock through her hand again, his hips straining to get some relief. She let go of him, pulling down her panties and snapping her bra away.

“Seven fuckin’ hells,” he growled. His voice reverberated against her neck; he was bent so close to her.

He grabbed her hair at her nape and kissed her hard enough that she couldn’t breathe. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and moved his jaw against hers like he wanted to eat her alive. Then, without much warning, she felt his fingers between her legs, and when he found the wetness there, slicker than the rain, he moaned darkly again. Plunging a long, thick finger into her core, he began to fuck her in his hand, his other hand pumping his cock until it swelled even more than when she held it. His pants pooled around his knees, unwanted.

She hadn’t felt a man’s finger in her core in years. Compared to her soft, lithe ministrations, the ruggedness was so very welcomed. He seemed to know just where to look to find her most vulnerable buttons to press. And gods, did he love to press them. Sandor hunted down each one, digging into her folds and massaging the skin in hungry circles. Sansa cried out as she felt herself coming undone, unspooling like a loose rope.

After she came, Sansa felt a terrible emptiness within her as he gently removed his skillful hand from her body. But, it gave her a moment to drop to her knees and take some control. She reached out, almost as if not to spook him, and held his heavy cock, feeding him into her mouth. She worked hard to take as much in on the first try as she could. She heard Sandor gasp in a deep breath and let it out raggedly. He pulled himself out of her mouth with his hips and ever so gently pushed himself back in, softly and carefully as to not hurt her. She put her hands on his hips in reassurance, pulling him closer, even though her confidence didn’t match her actions.

Sandor’s body reacted without his input, his hips pushing his hardness back into her mouth with more force and more depth than what may have been polite. Sansa moaned and tried to suck him in, letting her tongue roll lazily against his soft head. Shocked by her eagerness, he sucked in cold air through gritted teeth. Hungry for her, he pushed himself into her warm mouth, deeper and deeper, until he heard her gagging for a breath.

He let her breathe and repeated the action. Pulling himself out, sliding himself back in. She felt undone, as if every time she swallowed him, his pleasure was coursing through her veins instead.

Sandor was a mess. He’d begged God, for many moons now, for just a moment of having her on her knees before him, sucking him, licking him, milking him into submission. And now, here she was. It was better than his manifestations had ever hoped to be.

He wanted to come in Sansa Stark’s rosy cunt. He wanted to feel her soft walls flutter and clench against his hardness. He wanted her to scream and scream until her pretty little songbird voice was lost.

Sandor reached down to cup her cheek, pulling his cock from her lips and kneeling down to meet her on the hay-dusted floor. He kissed her again, tasting the precome that she had collected from his body. He pushed a hand up to find her soft breasts and kneaded them desperately, tugging at her nipples and making her writhe beneath his hand. Sansa looked on in awe as he bent down to suck on her skin, leaving tiny bruises behind with his fervor. She was trembling from the need to come again. Unable to voice her desires, completely at his mercy, Sansa cradled his head, fingernails digging into his neck and back, all but begging him to fuck her.

“Please,” she whispered into his temple, “Sandor. Please. Oh, Gods, please.”

“Please what?” He growled into her neck.

“Please fuck me. I can’t -”

Those words, like a magic spell, were all he wanted to hear. As soon as he felt his length sink into her wet pussy, he could die happy.

“Granted,” he promised.

He pushed her down onto the hay bale they had been sitting on and knealt over her, pushing her legs apart and guiding himself into her pink lips. His head dipped into her gently, painting her clit with her own juices, and then he filled her carefully - inch by agonizing inch. With every breath she took, he went that much deeper. She thought he might go on forever when, finally, a fullness stretched her just that much wider. She had met the base of his thick, heavy rod, and she shivered from it, legs threatening to close together from the intensity.

He stopped her from closing herself off, forcing her long legs back down and pushing himself into her over and over, the wetness of her making delicious noises as he began to pound into her body. Her bruised, swollen breasts were exposed to the air, dress abandoned. Sandor grasped them tightly, pushing them together and pinning her down.

She thought she might be coming, but when a true orgasm hit her, she realized she had just been tingling from his girth. Sansa came hard around him, and he pushed into her as if he wanted to feel every pulse of her racing heartbeat in her core. He could feel her fluids coat the base of his cock, the stickiness soaking his skin and matting his hair. When she let out a long moan, he bent down to squeeze and suck on her neck, whispering dark secrets into her skin,

“Sansa. Little bird. My little bird. Fuck! What a good girl you are. Do you know how long I’ve begged the Gods to give you to me? You are the finest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. My soft little dove. This cunt was meant for me.”

He fucked her faster and harder, spurred on by her screaming his name, pleading with him to come inside of her. He listened to her mantra - come in me, come in me - and he started to lose it. Sandor was shocked to feel so powerless to her command. He started to feel thick bands of searing hot come burst into her pussy. He pushed into her body desperately, his seed leaking out of her from the pressure. He held himself fully encased in her, feeling her tremble around him, burying himself in her as deep and as long as he could stand it.

When he slid out, he marveled at the beauty of her come-filled hole and reached out to touch it. He smeared it onto her pussy lips and pulled it onto her clit. Rubbing it into her skin like a salve, pushing it into her asshole with a gentle finger, taking some and massaging it into her nipples and breasts, feeding her with his fingers. As she suckled at his index finger he wondered if he would come again right then.

He sat back on his heels and gazed upon her tired body. She had her eyes closed, hair braided but askew, pussy covered in his slick come, glistening with sweat. He felt like he had been in a fight. His body ached and yet there was a dark voice that told him to fuck her again. Fuck her and do nothing else. Don’t eat. Don’t sleep. Just keep on breeding her in this shitty lean-to until you die.

She stirred. Sitting up, she reached out and grabbed his face. Whispering his name she kissed him chaste on the mouth. He could smell his scent on her lips. That dark voice screamed inside him that he wanted her to reek of his come all the time. To bathe her in it. Make her yours. She belongs to you.

He watched her gather her strength and step into the heavy rain, letting it soak her long red hair, braids dripping rivulets down her back and ass cheeks as she experienced the shower.

Sandor followed behind her and pulled her to him, her ass pushed against his cock. He was nearly hard again. They were both fully naked in the field, rebelliously erotic. He wrapped a hand around Sansa’s pale throat and made her arch her back to him. He took two fingers and stretched her pussy again, pushing at her wet walls. Then he pressed one wet finger into her ass.

After quite a few gentle thrusts, she relaxed and cried out to him in a new pitch. He pushed into her farther, repeating his insertion - then out, then in, warming her up to this new challenge. The rain fell into his open gasping mouth. She screamed at his thrusting. He pushed a second finger into her, her hole now accustomed to his rhythm. Then, he pulled out of her entirely and she felt that terrible emptiness return.

Sandor tossed her on all fours in the mud, frantically kneeling behind her, muddy himself, and he began to stuff his head into her asshole. She felt full in a way she never had, and she noticed her body trying to push back into him and meet his thrusts. It was as if she couldn’t stand being without his hardness.

Finally, after an eternity of stretching out muscles that had almost never been used, he began to fuck her ass with a sure, slow rhythm. He watched the raindrops pool on the small of her pale back, poorly illuminated by the single barn light. She was grunting loudly, yelling with a deep guttural shout at each and every moment his cock slid into her. It made him crazy. He reached down and began to finger fuck her pussy again, filling her, splitting her, and he could feel the intrusion of his own dick through her skin. He watched as her hole stretched open to fit him. She screamed louder, unable to hold back from his assault, enslaved to the onslaught of his pleasure.

“Sandor, I want you to come in me. I want your come. I wanna feel you come again. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long. Sandor.”

He was thrilled to oblige. Sandor grabbed her hips and started to stuff himself into her ass with a new purpose. He was shouting at every thrust along with her. Her tightness and wetness and warmth was too intense for him to bear. When it was almost time, that shadowy voice returned, telling him to breed her again. To fill her womb with his seed and make her carry his come in her until they drove back to the house in the morning. He didn’t make it, as just the idea of it pushed him over the edge. Thinking about her full of his seed, smelling like him, full of him - it was too much. Her ass took his load from him, and as he removed his cock from her, he watched it mix with the rain and trickle from her asshole, falling into the dip of her cunt and into the cold mud below.

Sansa fell back against him, panting, needing him to care for her. He lifted her up and carried her back to the blanket, turning to grab a towel from his bag, originally meant for the cow.

Clean again, she used the towel to dry off and put on the long sleeve tee and new pair of socks from her bag. She did not put on her wet panties. Instead, she sat back on the blanket cross-legged, letting him watch as his come dripped out of her, laying back as she caught her breath.

“Sandor, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. If I had known -”

“I won’t wait any longer. Be with me, little bird.”

She smirked knowingly at him, crawling into his lap and promising into his ear,

“Granted.”

taking a break from our regularly-scheduled COD programing to celebrate these two menaces <3 <3 don't worry, john price will be right back, i swear.

#game of thrones #asoiaf #game of thrones fanfiction #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #sansan #sansan au #sandor clegane #sansa stark #house stark #ranch life

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whitereptile · 6 months

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1 pic - classic... you get it but the second...

modern!au or whatever

plot: presenting you main characters of "War and Peace" in 21st century where every character is student of Russian State University for the Humanities!!

Pierre is an undergrad student of faculty of political science. He entered university for paid tuition but switched to grant thanks to his knowledge. He wasn't popular with girls until people found out that Pierre's dad is a co-founder of some big company. Since then, he has been dating with his classmate Elen (a.k.a. main wh..chick in the university, who hanging around every night and flirts with professors). Ofc she is with him because of money. He doesn't even like her, but who knows about that? They don't even have good sex

Andrei is a postgraduate student of law school. He is the main crush of all freshmen girls. Such a mysterious gentleman, he covers lessons of prof. Kutuzov, planning to continue to develop in this sphere. Also, he got married early and is already divorced, has a son. But non of the girls from faculty of psychology cares, 'cause they adore him.

Natasha is a freshmen of Faculty of Journalism. She is cool! She is on paid tuition. She often skips university, but she participates in all events, knows everyone from student council, and professors love her and give her good grades because of her charisma. At some point She had a crush on Bolkonsky. he, the fool, fell in love with her. Now they're the coolest couple in the uni.

Pierre has known Natasha since school, 'cause their moms are friends. Pierre and Natasha are good friends. Bezukhov fell for Natasha, when she entered university, but doesn't admit it. Pierre's known Andrei since first year of uni when Bolkonsky soldered him on some party. They started talking about everything and became best friends, meeting in bar from time to time, discussing women. Pierre even babysat Nikolay once.

And this war Pierre who introduced Andrei to Natasha during some university event. And here we go

Gosh, I have thousands of ideas for this au капец я благодарствую Варечке моей любимой за то, что она такая лапуля и перевела этот кусок кала для тумбы пипец гиперфиксация на ВиМ держит меня на плаву и я ненавижу рисовать клетку вонючую

#war and peace #pierre bezukhov #natasha rostova #andrei bolkonsky #modern au #война и мир

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so-mordor-itis · 2 years

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No Time To Die

@spookluckpuck This idea went really far LMAOOOO it was supposed to be a drabble but 2.2k words later

Enjoy!

Also shoutout to @shadowchroma for helping me edit this-

(This is a modern AU too)

You were turned unwillingly.

Cyno could tell from the erratic look in your eye. From the way, you clutched your wrist, red oozing between your fingers. The droplets falling matched the color of the brick floor. You were like a wild animal who had just been shot, adrenaline pumping in your veins, likely masking the true pain of the injury on your wrist.

"Cyno…" your voice was meek. "I…I don't…"

He rushed to your side, feeling the warm liquid on his own fingers as he pressed against the wound. Quickly glancing at it, he took note of the two puncture wounds–snake bites, purple and swollen. They mirrored the ones on his neck.

There was no time. In a matter of seconds, you'd be on the ground in pain, paralyzed. Exposed.

Cyno quickly placed his hands beside your ankles and hurled you into his arms bridal style. His bedroom would be the safest place for you, away from any lingering eyes and the blood bags he had contained in his kitchen. A fledgling vampire such as yourself would be hungry after such a painful turning. You'd tear through every bag in an instant.

Your wrist would be leaving a blood trail, but he didn't want to worry about that right now.

"Think you have enough strength to apply pressure?" He asked you, placing your limp figure on top of his bed. He watched as two red drops bled into his beige blanket.

"I can…" you gritted your teeth before you could finish. A painful expression flashed across your face. "Try."

With one swift movement, he was in and out of his bathroom, bandages in one hand, gauze in the other. "Hold still," he ordered. He didn't want to sound so harsh, but this was a time when he needed you to listen. One wrong movement–or even a flinch–and he'd have to wrap the bandage around your wrist all over again.

"How's that feel?" Cyno asked, observing you closely. Your forehead was packed with sweat, probably due to the fever your body had created.

You only responded with a grunt. He didn't expect anything more.

You suddenly went limp, eyes closing as your breathing fell flat. Cyno felt his stiff shoulders slump down, you passed out due to the pain.

"Rest well, you'll need it."

–

You awoke hours later. Every inch of your body ached. You wanted to dismiss what happened last night as merely a nightmare, and the aches and pains were a result of you tossing and turning in your bed.

You attempted to stretch out your arm, flinching at the stiffness. A sense of dread filled your chest once your eyes landed on the bandage Cyno previously applied.

It wasn't a nightmare.

"You're awake," Cyno's voice filled your ears, yet it took you a second to register exactly what he said.

You didn't respond. You found yourself opening your mouth, poking at one of your canines, only to recoil your finger. Sharp. Enough to prick it. You wiped the tiny drop of blood on your pants. "Fuck."

"Do you remember what happened last night?" Cyno inquired. His voice sounded closer.

"Not really," you shook your head, "I just remember going home from work and then, suddenly I was at your apartment. And now I'm…" You couldn't force yourself to look him in the eye. Tears threatened to fall, and the last thing you wanted was for him to witness it.

"I understand," he said. You could hear him shuffle around, footsteps light and fast. A part of you wanted to argue that he couldn't possibly know what you were going through, but the bite marks on his neck said otherwise. "Don't force yourself to do anything else."

You wanted to snap back at his statement, be sarcastic in the hope you could maintain some of the humanity you still had left. But, you knew that was a coping mechanism. Your humanity left last night, and it wasn't coming back.

Cyno's footsteps sounded closer, which startled you. Since when could you hear footsteps so clearly? Since when were they this loud?

"Here," you heard him offer, a yellowish-looking cup was held in front of you. "Drink."

The smell of iron and meat made it clear what the contents of the cup were. Normally, it would've been enough to make you gag. "Do I need to?"

"Drink? Yes."

"Why?" You groaned.

"Because if you don't, your body will revolt, and then you'll be scrambling around desperate to find food. And the closest blood is my own supply." Cyno replied, his tone slightly irritated. "Don't argue with me."

Hesitantly, you took the cup, scanning the inside. To a human–if they didn't smell it right away–it would appear to be tomato juice. If only it could taste like tomato juice.

"You don't have to drink it all at once," Cyno said, tone a bit softer now. "Just enough to help you get some strength back." He must've noticed how hesitant you were.

It took a few seconds of pep-talking yourself for you to finally drink the liquid. Like a picky child, you pinched your nose shut before taking a sip. You heard Cyno snort.

"Hey, what's that for?" You snapped, finally meeting him eye to eye since you awoke. "I'm trying my best here."

"Nothing, you're just like a little kid."

You curled your lip before rolling your eyes. "Not in the mood, Cy."

Cyno's eyes glazed over with guilt. "I'm sorry. I know you're going through a lot right now." He carefully took the cup from your hands, it was clear you didn't want to drink more at the moment. "It took me a week to give in and actually drink when I first changed."

What you didn't tell him, was that you actually wanted him to tease you more. To act like everything was normal, and that your teeth weren't sharp as knives.

–

"How long has it been?"

Cyno glanced up at Tighnari, who was currently feeling your forehead for any temperature change. He had been invited over to create herbal medicine for your pain. It may not completely get rid of it, but it'll help.

Now, you were asleep. He knew it would take you a while to close your eyes and allow yourself to drift off.

"It's been a week, at most," Cyno replied arms crossed as he glanced out a window. The night sky greeted him with the twinkling stars above, the street lamps below starting to glow in the coming darkness. He didn't want to stare at your form as you slept. He would feel like a creep.

"Seems like their body isn't reacting negatively," Tighnari commented, sighing. "At least we have that."

Cyno tried to pay attention to what Tighnari was stating, but his mind began to race with endless possibilities. Why you were targeted, who came after you in the first place. If he'd ever see your smile again. The thought of a frown permanently staining your image made his chest throb.

"Are you listening?" Tighnari scoffed.

"Yes," he mumbled. "Sorry, I got a lot on my mind."

"I bet," The fox replied, ears twitching. "Do they remember their attacker at all? Even a small detail?"

"Nothing, I doubt they even caught a glance."

"Hm, this is a problem."

"I'd say so."

"You two talk really loud," you grumbled, grabbing a pillow and covering your face with it. "My hearing is now more advanced, could you at least whisper?"

"Sorry," Cyno whispered.

"Now that you're awake, I should probably check your eyes next," Tighnari insisted, tugging lightly on the pillowcase.

"Why?"

"In case they're irritated, or a different color than red."

"What are you, a doctor now?"

"Would you rather have Cyno try to check your eyes? Maybe he could tell a really bad joke-"

"Alright, alright 'Nari," you hissed, sitting up.

Cyno raised an eyebrow. The threat of bad jokes is what makes you cave?

Tighnari held your face still with his thumb. He hooked his index finger over your chin before shining a light into your pupils.

It probably wasn't intentional, but now Cyno could clearly see the new shade of your irises. You didn't let him look long enough before.

He hated to say red suited you.

–

"Do you think you could handle being by yourself for a while?" Cyno asked you, you were finally beginning to drink more without him giving you a reminder.

"How long is awhile?" You replied, wiping your mouth quickly.

"A day or two. I got business to take care of."

"Business? It's not related to what you and 'Nari were talking about before, is it?" You weren't trying to hide the worry in your voice. It surprised him.

"No," he deadpanned. "How do you think I get the blood bags?"

"Oh."

He suppressed the urge to ruffle your hair. You were cute, that much he had to admit.

You pouted. "What's the grin for?"

Was he smiling? He blinked. "Nothing."

Your pout turned to a little grin of your own, and your canines poked through, adding character. His cheeks burned.

That was the first time he saw you smile in weeks.

–

"Why did the vampire say no to a drink?" Cyno asked you, in a certain tone you knew too well.

You glanced up from your book, eyebrow raised. "What?"

"He said, I already have my drink. Before looking at the person who offered."

You began to blink rapidly, and a snicker left your lips before a full string of giggles escaped instead. "What was that?"

"A joke," Cyno said with a deadpan stare.

"What kind of joke was that?"

"You still laughed at it."

"Because you sounded idiotic not because of the joke itself." You were still laughing. Still laughing, at a stupid joke he made. He always made stupid jokes in the wrong moments.

"You were frowning," he whispered, "I like it better when you smile."

–

You were already feeling better after a month. Your limbs weren't as shaky, and your mouth certainly didn't ache now that your canines fully grew in. This was all good news, you should be happy about this. Ecstatic that your life could go back to somewhat normal.

You weren’t. Not in the slightest.

Because your life couldn’t go back to normal even if you forced it to.

The thought of being a vampire now, of having to live a sheltered life, hiding from the sun, hiding from the public. You didn’t know if you could do it alone. Without him.

Everything about him and this life became a part of you, and that’s what scared you the most. His scent, his laugh, his smile. Every feature was embedded into your skin. What happened during this month? What made you suddenly go from seeing him as a simple friend to someone you couldn’t live without?

Though you asked yourself these questions, you knew the answer.

You faked being ill for a few more days, out of fear mostly. You didn’t want it to continue for too long, but the scent of him on his pillow made every hour that ticked by worth it.

Well, worth it until he sniffed you out.

“How long have you been feeling better?” His question made you jump.

“Huh?”

“You told me a few days ago you were feeling awful again, but today you seem to be in the highest energy I’ve seen you.”

Shit.

“I…” You had an excuse on your tongue, you had planned this happening, but you couldn’t give it to him. Couldn’t tell him, “Oh, I have more energy today, that’s all,” because you knew it wouldn’t work on him. Cyno’s too clever for that lame fib.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers. You didn’t want to see the look in his eyes; full of anger, maybe even disappointment. The latter made your heart sink deeper into your stomach.

When he didn’t respond, you continued. “I’m scared of being by myself through this. It’s been a month, sure, but what did I learn about my new body? What did I learn about the new abilities I’ve probably acquired? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. I can’t ask Tighnari for advice or help, because he’s not a vampire. I don’t have anyone else to go to. And…I’m lost.”

You finally said the words you were dreading.

This whole time, you thought you were prepared for the future. Not entirely, but you wanted to believe you wouldn’t need Cyno’s help anymore after you felt better. However, that was far from the truth. You did need his help, more than ever.

“I don’t want to do anything without you,” you whimpered, “And that’s what scares me the most.”

The appalling silence that fell was enough to make you sick. Or that could’ve been you being hungry, it was hard to tell.

“It’s been a month,” Cyno finally said, followed by his footsteps. You braced yourself for something–though you didn’t know what exactly you were bracing yourself for. To be yelled at? Scolded? Told to leave and never come back?

“It’s been a month, and you finally let those walls come down,” you didn’t even realize how close he was, how fast he crossed the room until you felt him touch your cheek.

He was so tender. Cyno stroked your cheek with his thumb, grabbing your arm with his other hand so he could pull you into an embrace. “I know you’re scared. I know you don’t want to do this alone. So, why would you ever assume I wanted you to leave?”

“You–” he interrupted you before you could even get a sentence out by placing his lips on your temple.

“I’m lonely without you, too.”

|Tags:|

@yinses , @lizbotw , @inaflashimagine , @sierrascribbles , @fugufishie , @universal-imagines , @izuniias , @strawberrybrainrot , @boundinparchment , @josuke8 , @yandere-romanticaa , @paperbagpetrichor , @wyvernne , @mmmairon , @rouge-heichou

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #cyno genshin impact #cyno x y/n #cyno #cyno x reader #general mahamatra #vampire au #my writing

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siamesephoenixrandomideatank · 10 months

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(Warhammer Fantasy Battle AU) Warhammer Whackheller AU Pt.1 (Old World Humans)-Modernized with altered Grittiness

In Warhammer Whackheller AU(or WH Whack, if you prefer it short), Archaon the Everchosen’s End Time attempt went utterly failed. Mallus (A.K.A. World-That-Was) stayed, as its civilizations, even ultraconservative Lizardmen, primitive Greenskins, and Norscans had developed in technologies and ideologies. However, situations remain gritty and grimdark. Yet it has some extra flavors of modern lifestyles, diplomacy(that lead to conflicts, or even wars), and CAPITALISM!. Even in the realm of Chaos, it has turned like Hell from Vivziepop (Like, in Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss).

Humankind

Empire of Men: Among the religious conflicts between Sigmarite and Ulrican, there was an Empress (thanks to her dad having no son) who came up with a compromise; Sigmar is Ulric’s reincarnation, and both teachings are acceptable. Plus, she made the reformation of the new faith, calling it ‘Reikite Temple’.

The College of magic and Engineer Guild, meanwhile, had competitions for who would lead the Empire's future. The Empress and a few monarchs after her just threw money on both to accelerate the advances. The Recent Emperor; Salmeul, decided to dissolve both and form several Imperial centric versions of them instead.

Bretonnia: Due to Peasants’ uprisings, with a random clergy ‘went Martin Luther’; he made another sect of Lady of The Lake where everyone equally received blessings from their version of ‘the lady’. Situations ended up with the first ruling Queen’s compromising, allowing females to be knighted, and less seats for the noble families’ knights for “granted peasant knights”. Ideology of “Lady of Ocean” is the new popularity for its larger water body for all lives. Plus, allowing progressive and favoring exploration of sciences and expedition. However, it is still slow and behind most of the other humans’ nations. However, it is the only country with large numbers of knights with firearms and armors.(Maybe everybody else has better units?)

Marienburg/Westerland: The conservative Knights of Bretonnia, Dissolved Figures from Empire, and even some other humans who prefer the old ideologies went there. However, it eventually became a kind of semi-autonomous state where the Empire, Bretonnia, and Kislev use it for being their docks, factories, and warehouses. It is an even juicier target for Norscan, yet, the investors also put some forces prepared to protect their goods.

Kislev: Kislev remains hardened, yet, they allow more freedoms and liberty, as long as they have more soldiers for their defense against different foes(Ogres, Vampires, Skaven, and Chaos). Some of them are feminism, transgenderism, same-sex marriages, adopting orphans encouragement, and acceptance of more immigrants with standard. That causes the social dividation into three sides; Conservative, Hardened Socialist, and Armed Liberals.

Conservatives stirred conflicts between the latter two, so they can stay without them overthrowing their older power.

Tilea: After Emperor Salmeul of Empire dissolved the Engineer Guild and College of Magic, large numbers of its engineers and magicians migrated to the Southern realms(Tilea, Estalia and Border Prince Confederacy). Tilea itself was focused on expanding their colonies rather than its own mainland. Such a decision caused Tilean’s governments to be more controlled by the Empire migrated scholars who were against the new Emperor. The merchant princes and mercenaries were mostly forced to pick their sides; Pro-Old Power, Pro-Empire Descents, or even join the rising Empire.

The war ended with the victory of Pro-Empire “Usurper”, forming a federation of Tilea. It was considered by remnants of Tilean powers, who fled to different colonies as “The False Rulers”. The scattering or Tilean powers led to the formation of the “Tilean Commonwealth”, with its Headquarter around the Northwest Southland.

Estalia: Being invaded by Skavens, Sartosan Pirates, and Greenskins, Estalia had suffered both politically and economically. Most kingdoms had fallen, or accepted to join Tilea or Bretonnia’s causes. One of the remnant kingdoms, Nerja, miraculously defended its kingdom from combined forces of Skavens and Norscans. Its king claimed to accept the new church based on the Four Gods; Solkan, Allumnias, Astasis, and Daora. The King believed these four deities could counter the power of chaos, and being its holy version.

However, the temple itself was made centuries ago as a smaller sect which some might consider heretical. Somehow, with the victory mentioned, as few more afters, the belief spread among southern realms. Eventually, Nerja reclaimed most of its lost regions, forming a loose form of federated kingdoms under Nerja as its main seat.(Like England in the UK).

Border Prince Confederacy: Due to political shifts, Border Prince Confederacy had mostly divided into subjugation of its borders. Some even joined dwarves to be smaller parts of their nations. The remaining power moved downward to Badland, where they fought with the local Greenskins and smaller weaker Dwarven Holds. Seeing the benefits of the situations, the High Elves aided them with magic and political favors. Some of the High Elves even embrace its technology somehow, and become part of the new Border Prince Confederacy after being banished by Ulthuan. They are still unstable, and somehow unrecognized. Yet, they are a real domain to be respected.

Part 2: Because words limits.

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angelonasher · 1 year

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hello hello thinking about that nameless au again (im thinking permafrost? but it feels uncreative-)

and uh here's your reminder that i definitely know how to character design mhmhmhmhm /s

it's at this point that i realize i've told you nothing about my au. w e l p

so thats me trying to figure out a design for Cleo. it's uhm. yeah look at how good im at anatomy- /s (and wow my very clean definitely existant lineart-)

uhm basically the au in my little brain is that there's no sun anymore. how? pff i dont know- anyway the sun got goodbye a long time ago so lots of people have ~adapted~ and while most cant actually live on the surface they definitely have a higher cold resistance than anything modern.

humans basically dont exist anymore as they kind of died out. it's mostly just nether (although that term is no longer used) mobs that survived bcuz yknow underground. but also endermen (ink-folk) which everyone else think are weird.

cleo here is one of those species that can survive the cold. and by survive the cold i mean she can survive a lot of things besides the cold and also does not care (i literally thought her and joe up today its not very uh developed)

here's me trying to figure out grian's clothes which i cant for the life of me. they have to be warm and stuff but also not restrict his flying/movements aHhh i still dont like it but i tried-

somehow tango's design is my favorite even though his took the least amount of effort wh y-

I feel like i should say more but i dont just wanna ramble about the disconnected pieces of plot/wordbuilding randomly ;-;

#hermitcraft au #i need a name for this au ; ;#zombiecleo #grian #my art #digital drawing #permafrost au

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theoutlawfaleena · 1 year

Note

I want to share with the class / your blog my very chaotic Zombie Apocalypse Call of Duty (Modern Warfare 2) AU, featuring my self-insert because I love Ghost/Soap/König 🫶

Alright, the overall plot is just surviving the apocalypse and getting to know each other Ig.

The backstory however is just as bland (I'm writing for the thoughts to get out of my head and not to publish a novel 😫). The 141 were sent a signal which located the US, but before they could track the cords or smth the signal vanished. Landing in the US, everything felt uncomfortable and no human being could be seen.

At some point they run into my self-insert who is chronically ill because I've never seen a chronically ill character in an apocalypse before?? (The way he gets his meds is really convenient, there's like aid stations near Canada and Mexico because the zombies are only affecting the US and the other countries don't want to interfere with that. I'm also European, so just in case anyone questions the aid station.) But yea my self-insert has that extra luck to be here.

They obviously ask him whats going on and he thinks they're joking at first and when he actually tells them about the apocalypse they think he's joking and I'm not that far into writing yet 🥲 but they end up creating a new team and just survive

The way I would introduce König is by going the traumatized route and making a quest gone wrong and his entire team dies or smth. Though when he joins the 141 / The Survival Group 141 he gets to be the sniper (as I doubt anyone would continue to follow the rules / law once they realize how serious the apocalypse actually is) and that lifts his mood despite his dead team 😵‍💫

To explain the lackluster writing, I'm doing this for fun and fun only. Never in Hell will this publish into a novel in case someone wants to complain about this 🫠

Oh I forgot the zombies themselves: The Virus is a mix of the one from The Last of Us (fungus) and Left 4 Dead (flu). So its like a fungus / mould that makes infected feel as if they have the flue before turning into aggressive cannibals. I'm aware this is very much copied from these two games but idc, the reason for the infection is pretty smart so I'll use it as well

WH -- HOLD ON WHOA. WOWIE WOW WOW ANON THIS SOUNDS COOL AS HELL !??)/?:/

i'm a bit of a sucker for apocalypse aus and urs sounds AMAZING to be just smthn living in ur head omg,, i know u said u didn't wanna write it BUT if u ever change ur mind..... 👀 i gotta be the first person to know 😌

#LIKE.... THIS IS SO COOL #Y'ALL ARE CREATIVE AS HELL #anon ask

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ryqoshay · 2 years

Text

Putting on Hairs - Post Production: Of Trolls and Bridges

Primary Pairing: N/A Starring: Natsumi, Kinako, Mei, Shiki Rating: T? Words: 524 AU: Theater, Monsters, Cryptids Fandom: Love Live Superstar Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: Sometime before the main story Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Bridge Content Warning: Dark themes and grim implications of actual historic superstitions and practices

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Author’s Note: Primary entry for Oct 11th

Summary: Natsumi explains her monster type

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Bury one deep at the foot of your bridge And it will never fall But be ever warned, for you it awaits The grimmest fate of all

For under the bridge there shall lurk a troll With large and toothy maw And it shall seek out all those who have killed And rend them with its claws

And hung upside down, your corpse on display For all the world to see A mason’s secret, slayer of children For no one heard their plea

The bridge will remain steadfast and sturdy And weather will not wear With child below and builder above Make quite the lovely pair

Kinako blanched. “Wh… What the heck kind of memorial is that?”

“The fitting kind.” Natsumi replied, swiping to the next picture on her tablet, one that showed the bridge in question, or rather an old, faded painting of it. “Etched into the stone by my great great great whatever grandma’s claws. She is the one who punished the mason for his crimes because the children he immured were her friends.”

“Immured?” Mei inquired.

“Immure. Verb. To enclose within walls. To build into or entomb in a wall.” Shiki stated.

“Wha…?”

“Immurement, or burying alive, has been used as punishment, or sacrifice, throughout history.”

“But… what did that have to do with bridges?”

“Didn’t you listen to the memorial poem?” Natsumi huffed. “Age old superstition said that burying a person, specifically a child, preferably living, at the foundation of a bridge would ensure that it wouldn’t collapse.”

“That’s what London Bridge is Falling Down is about.” Shiki added.

“Exactly.” Natsumi nodded.

“Thank the gods I didn’t sing that as a child…” Mei muttered under her breath.

“Anyway, the bridge is still there, so there must be some truth to it.” Natsumi swiped to a more modern picture.

“Wait.” Kinako spoke. “You said the children were your ancestor’s friends?”

“Yes.”

“So… she didn’t eat them?”

“My bloodline gave that up generations ago, long before even her time.”

“I presume intermingling with humans and the dilution of the troll blood played a part in that.” Shiki surmised.

“Probably.” Natsumi shrugged.

“So, is that why you’re just an internet troll now?” Mei suddenly quipped.

“Hey!”

“Also, does your surname not mean demon mound?” Shiki inquired. “What does that have to do with trolls or bridges?”

“Eh, trolls, ogres, demons. All the same, right?”

“I believe there are two demons employed at the other newly opened theater in the district. Perhaps we can ask of them?”

Natsumi furrowed her brow. “Is that any way to talk to your future producer?”

Kinako tilted her head. “I thought you were hired as…”

“I’ll be the producer soon enough! Just you wait and see. Then I’ll be raking in the <money!>” Natsumi declared, using the English word for money for some reason. “Anyway, you guys are the ones who asked about what kind of monster I am, and I gave you the most fabulous of productions! Now it’s time to see who can live up to it. Who’s next?”

The other three new hires glanced at one another.

“Uhm, I guess I can go next.” Kinako offered.

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Author’s Note Continued: My apologies for anyone first learning about London Bridge from a silly LL fanfic.

That said, with how many tabs I had open while writing this, I’m almost certain this chapter will see some expansion before being added into my PoH-PP collection.

#Onitsuka Natsumi #Sakurakoji Kinako #Yoneme Mei #Wakana Shiki #Putting on Hairs #Love Live Superstar #Promptober 2022 #fanfic

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 6 months

Text

had a human au thought of Barnaby and Wally. idk doing their taxes or going through bills together since they share a house & Barnaby going "hey we could get married for tax benefits and health insurance. wait no what if i want to marry Howdy someday? it's illegal to be married to two people." Wally goes "we could get divorced" and Barnaby gets legitimately sad like:

#wally: uhhhhhh. um. i think i left the oven running #barnaby: YOU DONT BAKE- GET BACK HERE AND ANSWER THE QUESTION #in human au barnaby's ideal world he can marry both his platonic life-partner And the love of his life #but the american government says No smh #my heart goes out to polyams everywhere #fuckkkkk getting unwell about this aus barnaby and wally again everyone #like i have so many different little plot lines and mini aus for the au #like what if there was a covid arc?#in my mind lockdown happens while wally is Elsewhere #so he cant exactly get back home! and obviously no one is happy about that but wally is dealing well enough #but barnaby's like 🥺 my lil buddys out there all on his own and im alone here so im gonna call him every day #(also i like to think that howdy spends lockdown w/ barn or vice-versa but this aint about that)#wally: vibing #barnaby: a bit of a wreck #absolutely unprompted #wh modern human au #but then also Angsty Thoughts of yo when they all get old uhhh who dies first #and In My Mind! they both die within a few days of each other #maybe barnaby goes first and wally just. pines away. broken heart syndrome babey!#also having soft thoughts of them when they first became friends #barnaby taking him to the farm and introducing him to the animals <3 #wally trying to help out with morning chores after a sleepover <3 #ms. beagle absolutely adoring wally and always having his favorite snacks In Stock for whenever he comes by <3 #that one time barnaby broke somebody's jaw for going a little too far w/ insulting wally & almost got expelled <3 #mannn they're so! honestly goals #oh and later on when they have their own place wally having his own lil art studio #and barnaby continuing to be his go-to muse <3 #wally probably has so much fuckign art of barnaby lmao #OHHHHH AND THE CAR CRASH ARCCCCC DONT EVEN GET ME FUCKIGN STARTED #EMOTIONS CENTRAL THAT IS

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xcrystalzero · 3 years

Text

finals never end

summary: as finals approach, i would like to imagine that there is something more to college than studying alone in a box for 14 hours a day. so, here's a modern au of the genshin boys as college students.

Characters included: Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli

Diluc:

- Who are we kidding, this bitch is a legacy at some pricy Ivy League. Hates when people bring it up though since he just wants to be his own person and not rely on his family name to get through things.

- Majors in business because of course he does. Rushed a business frat because it seemed like a good idea. Didn't get a bid and has since boycotted greek life.

- Eventually people find out who his father is and he starts to get bombarded by people who just basically want to use him for networking. Gets approached by girls (and sometime guys) after class like literally every day, asking if he wants to study with them sometime or just "hang out" both because he's hot and because he's rich. He never gives them the time of day but that never stops them.

- Goes to the same school as Kaeya but ignores him every time he tries to talk to him or just come back into his life. Kaeya usually takes it in stride but every else is super confused about how the two of them actually know each other.

- Walks you home from class when it starts to get darker earlier, apparently only because he doesn't have anything better to do. A gentleman through and through.

"Don't you have a meeting right now?"

"You staying safe is more important right now. They'll understand."

Kaeya:

- You know that one guy who is always out partying and who you never see studying but somehow makes the Dean's List every single semester without fail? Yeah, that's Kaeya.

- He's probably like an engineering or hard science major too and all his friends are absolutely pissed when he fucks up the curve every single time.

"You got a 98 on the orgo final???" "What, like it's hard?"

- Not as much of a hoe as everyone thinks he is. He definitely has his fun but he's not that guy who has slept his way through his entire major.

- Surprisingly enough, he's not actually in a frat, he just always knows where all the parties are. He's that guy with a snap score in the millions because everyone and their cousin hits him up every Friday night to ask where the parties are at.

-Generally seen as a really easy person to talk too. Also really good at seeming open with people without actually ever opening up and sharing anything about himself.

- With his very few close friends however, he has some strange hobbies that he's always happy to have someone to share with.

-Will take you on a picnic date about a mile off campus where you guys each way too much cheese and crackers, drink about a bottle of wine each, and watch the stars come out as the sun sets. Give the boy some love. That's all he really wants.

Venti:

-Your local friendly performing arts major who you never find without a huge iced coffee and cuffed jeans.

- He's super involved in a bunch of student organizations from improv to a few music clubs and the like. He's that person that everyone in his major knows and comes to for recommendations about new things that they should try out.

- He's in a band! They play indie songs at rotating bars every Tuesday and Thursday night and go to conferences once a semester for aspiring artists. Also sometimes will randomly perform on the Quad and serenade the random people passing by just trying to get to class.

-Offers to play at an event a club you're in is hosting as long as there's free snacks.

- Kind of an alcoholic? Not a partier in the traditional sense, but at least twice a week, he'll host a hangout where he and anyone who decides to show up get wine drunk and watch a shit ton of Gilmore Girls. BYOB of course because there's no way he could afford it on his own. Has shown up to class still drunk before but he's cute so everyone forgives him.

- Impromptu photo shoots all the time with him. Whether its a cute random flower patch, the soft neon signs outside of a boba shop, or graffiti painted onto a building wall, everything is an insta opportunity.

Xiao:

- That mysterious kid sitting in the back of your lecture wearing all black who is both undeniably hot and also exceedingly intimidating.

- Either an animal sciences major because animals are just better than humans, or he's like like history/english and spends a lot of time reading.

- He's that guy who stops communicating after the first day of your group project and you're really worried that they're just not going to finish their work but they end up sending it to you perfectly complete like a week early. Also, will talk/text you one-on-one but dislikes group meetings and group chats.

- He's in a band too! They actually play with Venti and his friends a lot and even though he admires him a lot, he's never gotten around to actually talking to Venti.

- Doesn't let people come over because then his frighteningly large collection of Funko-Pops and anime merch will be revealed.

- Also a dancer! He's not on a team or anything since he had some bad experiences with teams when he was younger, but he heads down to the studio at least 2 times a week just to move and let out some stress. If he offers to teach you sometime, that means he really really likes you.

- Asked if you wanted to go see the Demon Slayer movie with him and then showed up in a black mask and sunglasses because he didn't want anyone to recognize him.

Childe:

- Idk why but he kind of gives off athlete vibes??? Maybe like a basketball player or something?

- A bit of a campus celebrity just in that basically everyone, even if they aren't in the same major or aren't into sports, or just basically have no connection to him, still somehow know about him.

- He's a PR major and that charm is no joke. Some people kind of despise him because of the way he is literally able to effortlessly win over all of the recruiters and just random people he meets. He's extremely well-loved and he knows it.

- He's in a frat but outside of like mandatory events, doesn't spend all that much time with them. When he does party though, he goes hard.

- Doesn't actively flirt with anyone but he's just so charming and amiable that sometimes it comes across that way. Girls are always like "he's so respectful and nice I'm in love with him." He never feels the same way.

- Extremely competitive. Like the most competitive person you have literally ever met. He has to win everything and if he doesn't, he'll just keep trying and trying until he does. Literally the worst person to play beer pong with because he's not letting you go until he wins.

- Asks you to come to his games even though you barely even know the rules. If he does see you in the crowd, he gets way too hyped but plays the best he has all season. Make sure you take the credit for it.

Zhongli:

- That guy in your required philosophy class who argues with the professor. Not in an annoying "I'm smart and want an excuse to mansplain" kind of way though. He's actually just absurdly well-read and wants to discuss things instead of just listening to someone talk.

- People get annoyed with him because he's kind of disrupting class but if you actually listen to what he's saying, his ideas make a lot of sense and are kind of a mind-fuck at times.

- Has an extensive collection of plants at home and somehow manages to keep all of them alive and thriving. Also collects antique tea sets and goes to great lengths to make sure that they are taken care of.

- Probably actually a philosophy or anthropology major. Always has a new book recommendation and he's a darling who actually reads from every genre.

- Spends his free time going to museums in the area or visiting historical landmarks that are close enough to the university. Loves walking everywhere so that he can just take time to enjoy scenery and the like.

- You mention that there's a new exhibit at the local art gallery and he says that he's actually going there that evening if you would like to join him. And I mean, why would you refuse?

A.N. I'm gonna go back to studying now! Hope you enjoyed!

#genshin x reader #childe #genshin impact #xiao #venti #zhongl #kaeya #diluc #childe x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader

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mondrise · 3 years

Note

gardening with zhongli modern au 😔

summer mornings with zhongli often start after surreptitiously slapping the snooze button for several more minutes of sleep. holding hands beneath the blanket becomes one of many silken gestures that keep you sewn into the sheets, but the promise of your favorite pastime spurs you to stumble out of bed before the alarm sounds, mustering sleepy smiles and stifling yawns.

his eyelids stay half-lidded from slumber, which he’s only grown accustomed to after years living among humans. as zhongli wakes, he studies the curves of your back, bared to him until a dress drapes over the expanse of your skin. he eases into a sincere smile when you beam at him, encompassing a warmth that permeates the entire room, not unlike the sunlight slowly filtering in through the blinds.

“do you think the plums are ready?”

zhongli chuckles, endeared by your enthusiasm. in a generation with immediate access to google search, having a grasp on the manner of all minutiae almost feels like a burden, but you always ask him questions and appreciate his answers, even those steeped in uncertainty. despite his lack of knowledge regarding modern cultures, he finds some semblance of comfort in learning more alongside you.

“there’s no harm in checking,” zhongli says, stretching his arms above his head. “i quite like the sound of that for breakfast.”

he catches your stare and bites back a smile. the curl of his lips looks somewhat sportive, and though you wonder if the sight of it is enough to color your cheeks, zhongli has a way of noticing your every reaction regardless of whether the saturation seeps onto the surface of your skin. his observation skills come second to none, but the truth is that he just wants to memorize everything about you.

“good morning,” he says, fondly.

your smiles grows even softer. “i love waking up next to you.”

“enough to stay in bed for another five minutes?”

“i don’t think you want me to answer that honestly,” you retort, lips lingering against his. “let’s go, my love.”

before you head downstairs, you grab a hat hanging on the hook behind your bedroom door. zhongli made it for you a couple of birthdays ago, and the craftsmanship impressed you so much that you might have believed he purchased it for an absurd amount if you didn’t know he always leaves his wallet at home. whenever you chide him, zhongli laughs, perhaps a touch wistfully, as if he’s used to hearing it, or did once upon a time.

“she’s beautiful,” you murmur, carefully approaching the plum tree in the far corner of your yard.

zhongli hears you perfectly well, but selfishly, he moves closer. “takes after you.”

“must you fluster me so early in the morning?”

“forgive my forwardness,” Zhongli says knowingly, the corners of his mouth curling upward. “to prevent any more accidents, i’ll bite my tongue until lunch.”

a few months back, you ended up with a sprained ankle after a compliment from him sent you spiraling down the same tree. fortunately, it only resulted in a sprained ankle, but zhongli hovered until your recovery. you seemed so undeterred by your injuries that he felt a bit silly for worrying as much as he did, though you assured him that you appreciated his concern.

“that wasn’t entirely your fault,” you say, holding out a hand.

zhongli reaches for it, intertwining your fingers before tugging you toward him. “as opposed to all the other times i’ve inadvertently caused you to fall out of a tree?”

“now it sounds personal.”

“does it?”

“what, fifteen months in quarantine and you’re already sick of having me around?”

“who’s to say i wasn’t sick of you after three?”

“you wound me,” you say, pretending to check the time on the nonexistent watch strapped to your wrist. “forever seems like a long time now, huh?”

with another laugh, zhongli circles his arms around your waist. despite your grievances, the fruits in your garden remind him of you. ever-changing through the seasons with glimpses of good days and bad, but always so resilient when it matters most. he wishes he could say the same about himself.

“have you ever had osmanthus wine?” zhongli asks, startling even himself with the suddenness of his question.

you only tilt your head with a smile. “i’ve never even heard of it.”

“i don’t remember how it tastes,” zhongli admits. “but i think i njoyed it once.”

zhongli wonders when he shifted from existing to enduring, or when the anger numbed to ache. moments that became memories, memories that became part of him, and parts of him that faded into the abyss. the great rex lapis withers like devilwood, for erosion is not an instantaneous process.

it takes and takes and takes some more, a gradual diminution of all the things that make him, of all that is him. the man once known for his many monikers, respected by the people who served him and the people he served, had been prepared to surrender his future to a past that would inevitably catch up.

“let’s plant it.”

zhongli feels his breath hitch, but there’s nothing teasing about your expression as you stare at him with that same smile, earnestly encouraging him to revisit a piece of his past. despite all that you don’t know, you can tell he feels strongly about it, if only because zhongli never speaks without purpose.

he nearly lost that part of him, too. finding his place in a world that has outgrown magic seemed improbable, if not impossible, but then he met you. zhongli can’t say what he did to deserve it. he saved lives and took lives, loved and lost. loved again, then lost again, and in the centuries since, severed his ties to celestia.

zhongli had always known so much about even the most arbitrary things—all things—but for the first time in several centuries, he knew next to nothing about anything. navigating the unknown, learning new talents, and practicing hobbies that used to seem so inconsequential became infinitely more intricate without his powers.

the geo archon using a shovel? he is actually quite fond of it now, thanks in no small part to you.

“i’d like that,” zhongli says, then pauses. “do you even know where to get osmanthus seeds?”

“i can probably find a shop online.”

“itzy?”

“etsy,” you rectify, burying your smile into his shoulder.

zhongli frowns. “that’s what i said.”

“itzy is a group of singers,” you say, shaking your head with a chuckle when his face further contorts in confusion. “we can explore pandora’s box another day, if you’re up for it.”

zhongli feels that distinct warmth even after you pull away from him. as you peer at the plum tree, searching for the best spot to climb, he recites the same prayers once uttered with his name. if this life is his last, he wants to thank whoever allowed him to spend it so simply, and spend it with you.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin oneshot #genshin self insert #genshin x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin zhongli #zhongli imagines #zhongli scenarios #zhongli oneshot #itzy #kind of

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cupcakes-and-pain · 2 years

Note

(I have no self control and Kim is being really mean so Celeste needs some comfort.)

The vampire doesn't know where it is. It's in a city, that much is obvious.... there are cars, and people, and so many buildings. Its slowly healing eyes can make out the gray light of morning in the sky. It has a time limit. There is only so long before the sun catches it, regardless of whoever else might find it.

It's still wearing the rags and muzzle that its previous owner kept it in. There's no way anyone wouldn't know it was a vampire. On top of that, it still can't walk, let alone run.

What is it supposed to do?!

(Modern AU Celeste shows up in the Presents universe. She's got basically all the injuries she had at the beginning of the story, including the cut Achilles tendons, but her eyes have healed enough that she can see just a little. For simplicity's sake, Tobias isn't part of this. I have no idea what kind of community Roy lives in, so she has landed somewhere of your choice, whether that's a vampire community or a human one or a mixed community, assuming those exist.)

(I’m already having many ideas so no rush obviously but also I have a hard time getting inside Celeste’s head so I’m interested as to how she’s reacting to all of this.)

Roy was taking a walk early the morning after the party, deep in thought about what he should do about what was basically two living meals in his apartment when something caught his eye. In an alleyway near by, something was… moving? Ew, must be rats trapped in a garbage bag or something. Or, were those rags maybe?

His curiosity got the better him and he got a closer look at the pile. Upon further inspection, it looked less like a random pile and more like a person. Homeless, perhaps? Oh, poor thing, they looked wrecked. There was so many burns all over them and arms were definitely not supposed to bend like that.

“Hey, are you alright?” The person flinched back from his voice. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Do you need me to call anyone- oh jeez, is that a muzzle? And your arms and legs, good god…” Roy had to hold back being sick. If anyone had the right to vomit here, it was this poor person. They looked like they’d were ran over then dragged behind one the car. The only sign of life was the fact that they had frantically shook their head at the prospect of his help and tried to scoot away. Who on Earth would do such a thing to another living creature? This was everything that was wrong with the blood bag industry all over again. Only he could be sure this one wasn’t

“Look, I know you’re scared, okay? But you need medical attention and quickly. You might die within the hour with injuries like those.”

The person snorted, almost like…

“Did you just laugh? This isn’t funny! Look, I’m going to- can I pick you up? A damp alleyway is hardly a place for someone as close to death as you. But first, don’t be scared, let’s just take your pulse, okay? Easy, easy now. Oh dear, you’re freezing!”

Roy continued talking to them, hoping his chatter would somehow ease the person. He’d have to get their name soon. As he was thinking of something else to fill the silence with, his mind ran through the facts. Temperature was way below what it should be. At least, he was pretty sure, as part of the cold feeling could just be him. Far too many wounds to survive for long. Pulse was at zero. And-

Wait.

“Oh my, did you die?! Are you dead?” His shouting startled the person significantly and they shot backwards, trying to escape again. Definitely not dead. That, plus the frozen skin and burns only meant one thing.

“Okay, so you’re a vampire.” Based on that extreme reaction, it was confirmed. “Hey, hey, calm down. I’m also a vampire, see the fangs? Hey, shh, whoever did this to you is probably bad news for me so here’s what’s going to happen. We go to my house, get you as fixed up as we can in a few hours, then we run like hell from this town. There’s no way I’m staying longer than I have to in a city with, what, hunters? At any rate, come on. Let me pick you up, my house isn’t too far from here.”

This wasn’t great. His house had gone from one person to four in the span of a single night. Speaking of, Drop and Dew were surely going to hate this. Nothing he could really do about that, it’s not like he could leave any of these guys in their vulnerable states.

@kim-poce (incase you want to be tagged)

#Roy is becoming a very overwhelmed caretaker #he was not made for taking care of three people. especially since they’re all scared of each other.#Celeste: these humans were hurt by vampires. they’ll want revenge.#Dew and Drop: this vampire was hurt by humans. she’ll want revenge.#celeste the vampire #Roy #whump #vampire whump #vampire whumpee #vampire caretaker #thanks for the ask!!#ask

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bevvydraws · 3 years

Text

Kwami Exchange Students

This might be a mini-fic, I’m not sure yet, but for now just consider anything I post for this AU connected one-shots.

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Marinette knew that the world was full of more odd and mysterious things than she had previously thought. She was a highschool super hero going after a butterfly themed maniac who wore a wrestler’s mask with a suit, after all. But somehow, despite the craziness she constantly experienced in her life, she still managed to get caught off guard.

Because one day, after weeks of Tikki making sad comments about wanting to experience life as a “modern human” (accompanied with longingly watching dancing videos), Marinette woke up to find Tikki missing. But more alarming than that, was that now there was a teenage girl curiously inspecting everything in her room. Thinking it may be an akuma, she looked around frantically for her tiny spotted friend in hopes of defeating it without waking her parents. She tried not to make any loud noises as she shuffled around in her bed.

It didn’t work, however, and the intruder turned to look at her with wide eyes that were somehow familiar, “Oh, Marinette! You’re awake!” The voice was even more familiar, soft and gentle while slightly squeaky.

“Wh-who are you?” Marinette tried to ask calmly, although the stutter betrayed her.

The girl gasped, her hands quickly flying to cover her mouth, “Oh gosh that’s right!! You’ve never seen me like this before.”

Marinette did a once-over of the girl. Her hair was long and bright red, with black roots. She was wearing a long white dress that looked more like a sheet and no shoes. Her eyes, somehow even wider, were bright blue, and held a wisdom that wasn’t normal for someone who looked so young. Then again, nothing was normal about this teenager who radiated energy and power even while looking like she had just been caught in the cookie jar. Wait... cookie jar?

“Tikki!?” Marinette asked, “Is that you?!”

Tikki nodded quickly, “Yes!! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“But you— You’re so small but now— huh?!” Marinette couldn’t find the words to express her confusion as to how the little creature that could fit in her purse was now the same height she was.

“Well, you see...” Tikki fidgeted with her fingers, “It’s been a while since I’ve walked among humans, and I thought it would help better understanding modern society if I could experience first hand...” She looked to the side, then her eyes widened as if coming to a conclusion and looked back at Marinette, “...that way I could help track down Hawkmoth easier. Mmhm, yep!”

Marinette didn’t bother questioning Tikki’s logic, since she had more pressing questions on her mind. “How are you able to turn human?”

“I’m a god, Marinette,” Tikki said matter-of-factly, “I existed far before ladybugs were even a concept. I can take many forms, just like the other kwamis.”

“So why stay so little?”

Tikki smiled, although it seemed sad, “Easier to help, easier to hide, and it’s an easier form to hold. Especially since our energy is so heavily changed to the miraculous stones now.”

“Oh...” Marinette whispered. “But wait how are you gonna blend in?”

“The same way you and Chat Noir have all this time,” Tikki grins, “Hiding in plain sight!”

“It’s one thing hiding you as a kwami from my parents, but I can’t hide a whole human!”

“You won’t have to, silly.” Tikki smiles, “I have it all under control. We kwami are very good at convincing others that typically abnormal things are something completely normal. It’s how so few know of our existence.”

“Okay…” Marinette said, unsure, “But it doesn’t matter how convincing you are, no one is going to think walking around in a bedsheet is normal.”

Tikki blushed, looking down at her dress, “It’s not a bedsheet, Marinette. It’s a dress. It’s just something simple so I don’t stand out.”

“You’re going to stand out if you go anywhere like that.”

“Well you’re the fashion designer,” Tikki huffs, cheek still blazing red in embarrassment, “What should I wear?”

Marinette grinned wickedly and dashed to her closet.

-------------

An hour later, Marinette stepped back to admire her work. She was very glad that she had been working on some clothing she had kept under wraps from everyone, it would be a little too suspicious if Tikki showed up in some of her very-Marinette clothing. Tikki was now fitted with a white tank-top, the words “Lucky” embroidered across it, and light-washed blue shorts. Her hair was tied up to the side and decorated with a black ribbon. Because Marinette didn’t have time to teach her how to tie shoes with fingers, she was wearing simple black flats.

“Oh, Tikki, you look so cute!” Marinette fawned as the cherry-red-head tugged at her clothes self consciously.

“I feel so… exposed,” she frowned, looking at herself in the mirror.

“Tikki,” Marinette said, deadpanned, “you don’t normally wear clothes at all.”

“You know what I mean,” Tikki huffed, “I’m less comfortable in this form… and it’s so cold.”

Marinette smiled sympathetically and went to her closet, pulling out an old generic black sweater, “Here, maybe this will help.”

Tikki slipped it on, and a smile stretched across her face, “This is perfect! Thank you so much, Marinette!”

“I’m just thankful that we’re similar sizes,” Marinette laughed, “otherwise this would have been a lot harder. Now, how are we going to explain you to my parents?”

Tikki grinned, “I’ll take care of that! Just be down in the bakery in a few minutes.” She playfully winked at Marinette before snapping, shrinking in a flash of light before revealing a little ladybug. Marinette shook her head, convinced she had seen everything at this point, and opened the window and watched as Tikki zipped out of the window.

Marinette quickly finished getting ready, grabbing her book bag before running downstairs to the bakery.

Sabine and Tom barely had time to give their daughter a warm greeting before their bakery door swung open and Tikki shyly stepped in, looking very lost.

“Good morning!” Tom greeted heartily, “What can we get for you?”

“Good morning,” Tikki responded, a kind but shy smile on her face, “I’m looking for a Mme. Sabine Cheng and M. Tom Dupain.”

“That would be us,” Sabine smiles, “What can we help you with?”

“Um, I’m the exchange student from the program through Francoise Dupont,” she says, producing a flyer Marinette had never seen before as well as some paperwork out of her back pocket.

Tom and Sabine shared a confused look before Sabine read over the paperwork and flyer.

“I’m sorry…” Sabine says, reading the paperwork to find Tikki’s name, “Mlle. Tikki, but we never signed up for a program like that.”

With acting skills Marinette had no clue Tikki possessed, tears began welling up in Tikki’s eyes, “Oh, I see… today has been quite trying,” she dabbed at her eyes lightly with her sweater sleeve, “first, my luggage went missing, and now there’s been a mixup with the paperwork. I have no idea what to do..”

Marinette stepped forward quickly, wrapping an arm around Tikki’s shoulder. “Mom, Dad, I have plenty of room upstairs. The paperwork all checks out, right? Maybe you signed up on accident or don’t remember, but we can’t turn her away.”

Marinette and Tikki both gave Sabine and Tom their best kicked puppy looks.

And that was how Tikki became a temporary member of the Dupain-Cheng household.

--------------

Convincing the school apparently wasn’t necessary, as Tikki had already handled all of that the night before without Marinette’s knowledge. A few forged emails and “Kwami magic”--as Tikki worded it--and all Tikki had to do was stop by the principal's office to get her necessary books and materials. Marinette wasn’t sure whether she was thankful or concerned that everyone was so easily influenced and convinced by Tikki, but decided not to think about it too much.

“Oh, I should mention…” Tikki said softly to Marinette as they walked to class, “I’m not the only new student.”

“What do you mean…?” Marinette had a bad feeling in her gut at the guilty expression on Tikki’s face.

“Well, I talked about my idea with Plagg,” Tikki said softly, “And he ‘didn’t want me to have all the fun’.” Tikki made air quotes, rolling her eyes.

“But Plagg needs to stay with Chat Noir,” Marinette hissed.

“That’s the thing…” Tikki said, wincing slightly as she walked into the classroom with Marinette.

Marinette wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t seeing a guy she’d never seen before bickering silently with Adrien Agreste.

The bickering stopped when both caught sight of Marinette and Tikki.

The new guy, with wild black hair and even wilder green eyes, lit up and a catty grin spread across his face, “Sugar cube!” he said excitedly, zipping away from Adrien at inhuman speed to drape an arm around Tikki’s shoulders, “Didja miss me? It’s been far too long.”

Tikki grimaced, “It hasn’t been that long, Plagg,” she said, “We were on the plane together just this morning.” The undertone of scolding in her voice made it clear that who Marinette was seeing was, in fact, Chat Noir’s kwami.

Marinette looked back at Adrien, who was looking at her with wide eyes. Well, more specifically, he was looking at her earrings. Marinette’s eyes went to the ring he was wearing, before looking back up at him.

Oh.

#bevvywrites #bevvy writes #my writing #mywriting #oneshot #one shot #miraculous ladybug oneshot #miraculous ladybug one shot #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug au #my au #kwami exchange students #human tikki #human plagg

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beanzmtr · 3 years

Text

Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Wúxiàn, enemies to lovers, modern au

...

“Lan Zhan! Ah! Wait!” Wei Wuxian huffs. Lungs protesting after his sprint to catch up to the other man.

“Lan Zhan….aiya…you walk too quickly.” Wei Wuxian says, practically bent over, his hands resting on his knees.

“What is it, Wei Ying?” says Lan Wangji, irritation clear in the minute furrow of his brow.

“Don’t take the job.”

“What?” says Lan Wangji. The irritation from before all but disappears, his ever-placid face now betrayed by the smallest uptick of his eyebrows.

“Has your hearing been impaired in the last few seconds Lan-er-gege?” Wei Wuxian huffs, chuckling. “You're going up to Main Office, because they just called you, right? They’re going to offer you a job at headquarters. More pay. Higher position, better resources, blah blah. But don’t take it.”

Wei Wuxian is expecting Lan Wangji to ask him how he knows. He’s prepared this story in the run over. He is prepared to tell Lan Wangji that he had heard this-and-that down the grapevine because he’s very well informed, don’t you know Lan-er-gege? Everyone wants to talk to me! He doesn't really want Lan Wangji to know the truth.

“Why?” says Lan Wangji. Effectively derailing the next words out of Wei Wuxian’s mouth.

Wei Wuxian is confused. He doesn't understand. Why what?

“Why what?” says Wei Wuxian.

“Why do you not want me to take the job?” inquires Lan Wangji and ahh thinks Wei Wuxian. He should know how to answer this. Lan Wangji shouldn’t take the job because -- because -- he’d be selling out. It’s their work here that’s important! It isn’t about the money. They spent their lives, their careers, working to get to this point where they could design things to improve people’s lives and what they have going here, it works! They work. Them together. Platonically.

Wei Wuxian realizes he’s been quiet for a beat too long when he sees Lan Wangji’s face smooth into the careful neutrality he displays whenever he doesn’t want to express human emotion.

“If that’s all.” says Lan Wangji. He gives a curt nod and begins to turn around. Before Wei Wuxian has time to think about it, his hand has flown out in front of him to latch onto Lan Wangji’s wrist.

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what else to say. He had reasons, he’d worked himself up into an angry fit on the way over. Desperation and betrayal mingling together. But now, all the words have escaped him. Everything except one thought. Don’t go, which he absolutely cannot say.

Lan Wangji’s expression when he looks at him is surprisingly vulnerable. Wei Wuxian cannot understand it. After a moment, it’s gone, and the mask is back in place.

They both speak at the same time.

“Let go.” says Lan Wangji.

“I like you.” says Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian should be doubled over, laughing on the floor because in the years they have worked together; he has never ever seen Lan Wangji gape like a fish. He imagines that he would be in such a state if he wasn’t trying to wrap his head around what the ever-loving-fuck just came out of his mouth.

“Lan Zhan. Look - listen, ah, you’re a pain in the ass. You always have to follow director’s orders - even when you know they’re wrong, you yell at me whenever I leave the coffee pot anywhere but precisely inside the coffee maker, and jesus you could stand to smile when I know you want to, but you can’t just, just, - leave me here wh-…”

Wei Wuxian continues his speech, but the sound is blocked. By Lan Wangji’s mouth. By Lan Wangji kissing him. The kiss is hungry, Wei Wuxian feels pushed back and thrown by it. He hasn't felt this before, like someone wanted to devour him. He feels a strong hand come up to grip his neck and his lips part without his permission and then there is a tongue licking the inside of his mouth. Lan Wangji kissing his mouth with his warm lips that taste like coconut and wild cherries, and holy shit what…

He steps back. His lips leave Lan Wangji’s and he gives a small whimper that came from god-knows-where and he stares and stares and stares.

Lan Wangji has wild eyes and he looks, well, he looks like he just made out with someone. With me.

Wei Wuxian is absolutely silent, breaths heaving, as he watches the other man close his eyes and turn away without another glance.

Wei Wuxian stands there for a long time. He moves eventually, putting one foot in front of the other, maneuvering back to his office. His vision is clouded, blurred at the sides like a shitty snapchat filter. He has ongoing projects he could be doing, but he feels like if he forced his brain to concentrate on anything but moving he might just float away entirely. He pockets the keys to his car but his feet take him to the subway. When he gets off and finally makes it back to his apartment, he flops on the couch in a dead faint.

In the morning, he’s woken up by a buzzing in his hand. The sun has yet to rise and all the lights are off in his living room. In a haze he lifts his head to peer at his phone. The bright backlight blinds him momentarily, but then words come into focus. The sender reads Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian has a second to feel panic before the rest of the message loads. It’s just four words, but he feels his heart start to race regardless. The message reads:

“I didn’t take it.”

#sometimes you need to write abt wangxian getting together at work #modern au #ficlet #wangxian #my writing

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