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peachesofteal · 1 year

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Mermaids

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon Riley/mermaid!reader 8.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Dark themes. Magical beings eating human hearts. Magic. Blood, Violence. Explicit sex. Blood kink. Breeding kink. Creampie. Dubious consent. Possessive Simon Riley. "And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp, you crawled from the sea to break that sailor's heart" - F+TM

It begins early this year.

Earlier than usual, when your hunting ground in the mortal world was just starting to turn green, shaking its frosted and frozen branches free to make room for bright blooms and emerald leaves. Just as the steps of Brighton Pier changed from ice slick ledges to waterlogged, weeping wooden planks, and human clothing shifted from long coverings that protected their fragile membranes from the bitter wind to soft and flowing fabrics that allowed their bodies to breathe.

This time of the year the mortal world was alive. Full of rebirth and growth, strong and vibrant.

Vibrant, like the song that began early this year, the frequency echoing deep below the water’s surface to where you waited for its pull. The siren song of a true treasure, far beyond any other, the melody of your chosen, the ebb and flow of the rhythm that is not unlike the sea. The siren song of a mortal’s heart, the cacophony able to reach you and your sisters far below the swell and crash of the ocean, far beyond where the light ceases, the melody possessing the ability to pull you to the surface once a year.

Once a year, to hunt.

One a year, to dance and drink and fall in love, if only for a night.

Once a year, to sacrifice a human heart.

Your eldest sister holds you tight to her body in an embrace as the sun rises. Elegant fingers fuss with your hair, smoothing and tugging and pulling, a vain attempt at taming something wilder than her own heart. Her face is grim, a black void that reflects no joy or excitement, just dread. It is a mirror of yourself. It is a pain that you know too well.

“What bothers you?”

You are the last two left on the beach. The others have all gone, eager to stretch their legs and seek their own songs, the trill of the blood bubbling up in their veins, their bodies pulled like magnets to the source. One heart, one song, one human male for each sister, poor mortals who have no idea what awaits them today, their ignorance bliss on the last night of their lives. Your sisters, as well as you, all live for this night. The joy of the love, the thrill of the hunt, the taste of the ichor that sustains you. The anticipation of this night fills your dreams with swirls of violent songbird chords and sweet melodies of affection. It is all you talk about for cycles, leading up to the day when you leave the water at sunrise and your tail shifts and shatters to reveal two very human looking legs.

“I am weary.” She tells you plainly, an announcement that does not come as a surprise. You have watched how she fades. Watched her linger in the darkness of the caves, watched her float lifelessly on slow currents, gaze hollow, vigor lost. “My song is faint.” She pushes further, holding your hand tightly as she releases you from her embrace. “I think I may not take a heart this year.” But we must. Must we? It was a question unanswered, but one that plagued you both. How else could you live, if not for these sacrifices?

“You would choose to die.” You surmise and she gives you a curt nod, as if it is obvious. As if her admission does not rattle you down to your very bones. Perhaps you too, one day, would make this choice. Would choose not to hunt. Choose not to love and lose. The notion pains you, fills you with sorrow as it has for many, many years. This was not an unknown feeling, even though you still experienced the joy, the bliss of your hunting, of the harvesting, you still felt the pang of loss every time, stronger and stronger as the years ticked by.

“It aches now, knowing I will fall in love this night, just for it to end as the sun rises.” The sea crashes onto the beach behind the two of you, and her lips part with a smile before she leans in to graze a kiss along your cheek. “Happy hunting, my sister.”

The song encourages you onward, leading you through a maze of streets and buildings while the sun rises and lingers in the sky. You comb the city for your male, following the electric hum of the song through alleys and neighborhoods, stopping to enjoy the day, your one day on land, as often as you can. You relish in the things that are rare for you, the taste of coffee and human food, the smell of flowers in the park, the feel of grass on the bare pads of your feet. The dress you’ve chosen flutters in the breeze, allowing the cool air to caress your skin softly, and the sun beams down on your exposed limbs, warming you under its light as you indulge in mortal world. It is nice, you decide while you bask in its rays, to feel the sun as humans do. Such spoiled creatures, being so close to something that gives so much life.

That same sun begins to sink lower behind the skyline and you’re still mindlessly gazing at small insects and diving birds when your heart trills, the force of the song slamming between your ribs, a smattering of warning bells going off within you. He’s close, your blood croons, so, so close. The incessant rattle, the insistent pull is enough to bring you to your feet and anxiously smooth the wrinkles of your clothing, eyes darting wildly around while you hunt for the source, feet flying beneath you. So close, so close.

You come to a stop in front of a pub where a black door is propped open, music and revelry echoing from inside. Here. He’s here. The supersonic vibrato that hums in your own blood draws you into the dimly lit bar, and you hear the song in his veins grow even stronger when you step through across the threshold. He is not hard to find, this close, and your magic strings out before you, weaving and seeking past the bodies that dance closely on the floor, each as desperate for one another as you have grown for your mortal and his song.

He stands in the back, half covered by shadow, the dark pitch of the room matching his clothes and the mask he wears over most of his face. Everything about him is bigger than the males that have called to you in the past, his height, his arms, the width of his shoulders, even the feeling of him in this place. Everywhere you venture, every spot you position yourself in, you feel his eyes on you. He is unusual, and watches, from his vantage point, his companions, other humans, the bartender.

You perch atop a barstool on the opposite side of the room to study him. His eyes carry a ferocity, a heaviness of emotion that stirs the blood running through your own veins until it is pounding in your ears. The severity of him nearly intimidates you, the level of his awareness, the pools of his amber rich brown eyes occasionally flicking over to where your fingers wrap around a glass of beer, the heat of his gaze searing away at your skin underneath the dress. The mask confuses but does not caution you, and your own heart now beats in time with his due to your proximity. Handsome. You muse to yourself, caught up in tracing the outline of his cheekbones. Beautiful, in a dark way.

There is something about him. Something ruinous, something different. Something you cannot name.

It is of no consequence. You are the huntress. You will have your prize, your immortality, the taste of his heart on your tongue. His death becomes your life. His love, his heart, becomes yours, for eternity.

But how nice, might it be, to keep this one? It is an impossible thought, a dreamless idea, but one that still crosses your mind. The fantasy of falling in love for eternity, of having more than one night, more than the blood and violence that follows, more than the loss that would sustain you. If it were to be one, you know you’d choose this one. Your thoughts stray to your sister for a moment, imagining her alone beneath the surface, mourning the centuries of life she has lived, the centuries of love she has lost. Did she know this feeling? This hopelessness, this despair. Your lips tug downward as you consider her words. It aches. It aches, knowing I will fall in love this night, only for it to end as the sun rises. Gloom washes through you, your own yearning itching inside your soul, your desperation for your human itching at your skin. It aches. It aches, it ach-

“Hello.” Someone says from behind you, a deep, distinct voice, and you snap upwards, straightening your posture to turn into the body that crowds you. You jerk backwards on the stool when you realize how close he is, the action unsettling you from your seat, and you slip forward, nearly falling free from your wooden perch. Balance on land is difficult, and yours is perpetually off, a skill you've never mastered. A massive hand wraps around your elbow to right you, gently steadying you, and your jaw goes slack when you finally look up.

It's him.

“Hi.” You smile, trying to recover from your less than graceful impression. Your heart thunders in your chest, and the melody inside him screams for you.

“I’m Ghost.” He motions to your mostly empty beer and raises his completely barren one in return. “Buy you another?”

The indulgent smile that scrawls across your face is practically involuntary as you give your answer.

“Sure.”

His name isn’t Ghost, but he keeps his true name close and won’t give it to you. You give him a nickname, one you usually use on land, and he doesn’t bat an eye, even when you tell him it’s a pet name and not your real one with a wink. The name Ghost doesn’t strike you as odd, after learning what he does, why he keeps it tucked away, and you marvel at him while he tells gives you bits and piece of himself, occasionally peeling his mask up to drink. He’s a solider, a Lieutenant in a special task force, some of which he happens to be out with tonight. He likes bourbon, specifically from a certain region in America, and he smells like the forest. You lean closer, completely unable to stop yourself, inhaling as deeply as you can, breathing in the mossy, earthy, green scent that hovers in the air around him. It was heady, and endless, and wrapped you in a dizzying cocoon of memories that you couldn’t place, but clearly envisioned. Forests, teeming with life and glowing chartreuse from top to bottom, oceans with aquamarine waters, shallow pools for you to bathe in under the sun, the water crisp and cold, your skin eagerly soaking it up its potent brine. Sapphire skies, the beaches stretching on and on, their seas fathomless, their bounties endless. You push closer, nosing as near as you can to his skin and take a lungful of the air. Strange. You knew humans wore things to mask or change their scents, but had never encountered one so… affecting.

“Alright, love?” He brushes the lightest contact of his fingers against yours, and you straighten, eyes ducking down in embarrassment.

“Yes, sorry. I- I was… distracted.”

Unusual indeed.

One drink turns to many, and you carefully note how Ghost’s posture becomes more relaxed, shoulders less tense as the two of you indulge. He continues to surveil the room, observing and cataloguing, and you find it dangerously appealing, how in tune he is to his surroundings. How vigilant. Your hand lays gently on his thigh when you can no longer hold off the desire for physical touch, and he inclines his head to speak above your ear, the warmth of his cheek behind the fabric pressed casually to your head.

“D’ya want to go somewhere else?” Yes. You nod, and he motions to his group before excusing himself, his large body cutting a path through the packed room like he’s parting the sea.

You note the couplings around the bar as Ghost approaches his companions, leaning down to speak to one who is seated, legs spread wide on a faux velvet chair. He has a mohawk, and cerulean blue eyes that trace you from head to toe after Ghost begins to walk back towards where you're seated. You break the eye contact hastily, observing the others, pity pulling on your heart strings over a distraught female who sits in a corner, watching another with longing. The state of her broken heart is written all over face, her body rife with grief. The object of her affection, another stunningly beautiful female, dances with a different mortal, her artfully woven hair spiraling from her shoulders in tune to the way she moves her body. They have it so hard, you think. The song does all the work for us. You never have to woo your mortals, just provide them with the opportunity to find you. The song pushes them to seek you out, drives them to near madness unless they are in your company. They don’t always love you back, as you love them, certainly. But you never have to vie for their attention, never have to posture for their affection.

A large hand takes yours, warm and beating with the pulse of his heart, the rhythm of the song.

“Ready?” You open your mouth to say yes but nothing comes out, and the feeling of dread, the ache swamps you for a passing second. I think I may not take a heart this year. All you can do is nod.

As he leads you through the crowd, you cannot help but reach forward with your free hand and clasp onto the dancing woman. She pauses, eyes lighting wantonly when she sees you, but you push a sprinkle of magic through her, sparking desire in the base of her consciousness for the mournful dove in the chair.

You don’t look back at either of them as you leave, and silently pray to no one that they find happiness in love, that they relish it and keep one another, if only for you.

You bring him to the beach, as is your custom. It was where you felt safest, closest to the ocean, it’s where your power felt most pure should you need it, should something go wrong. You shiver at the thought, shoving down the memories that threaten your balance, and you clutch Ghost’s hand.

“Come down here often?” He inquires and you shrug, a response you know mortals are fond of.

“I like it here.” You offer, and he hums in acknowledgement. You tug him towards the overhang of the pier, where the shadows will shield you, where no one dares to venture. The only light comes from the moon, it’s silver glow glittering dimly through worn wooden pier slats, and you watch it catch his eye, his pupil expanding and contracting as you step closer and closer. “I want to kiss you.” you implore. “Will you remove your mask?” The song. You’re depending on the song to help you with this, depending on his desire, the power of the melody in his veins to urge him to comply with your request, and when he tilts his head like he’s considering you, you hold your breath.

It happens quickly. He removes the mask in a fluid motion, and then his lips are upon yours, hot and seeking, tongue exploring your mouth while yours opens for him, your body clenching with dizzying desire at the feel of his touch against your skin.

“I knew it.” You gasp when you pull away and trace the fine point of a fingernail down his jaw. “I knew you were breathtaking under there.” He chuckles.

“Happy you think so.”

Your mouths melt together as he holds you around the waist, your bodies getting closer and closer until you can feel the hardness of his cock in his jeans, feel the scorching heat of him through his clothes. You are desperate for this mortal, your desire to feel him moving inside of you nearly as strong as the lust you feel to taste his heart. You sink to the sand together, a dance of limbs and movements that have you panting astride him when he settles, propped up on his elbows.

“Simon.” He says mid breath. “That’s my name. Want ya to have it.” Simon.

“Simon.” You whisper it, and he nods before pulling you back to him, two large palms cradling your face like you’re a delicate creature. It makes you feel special, makes you feel cherished, like you’re something gentle to be treasured, and not a monster out for his life. You kiss him tenderly, one more time, as softly as you can manage, your heart trembling inside your chest, before your teeth bite into his lip, the ferocious intensity of the act returned by him, his mouth meeting yours full force. You bite again, and this time his flesh gives way, bright, mineral rich blood bubbling from the tiny cut and you eagerly lap at it, the ichor coating your tongue and exploding across your senses. He laughs, the echo of it rumbling deep in his chest, and you place your hand against his heart greedily, the vigor of its beating nearly making your eyes roll back into your head. The length of his cock throbs between your legs, where only the fabric of his jeans separates you, and you rut against him helplessly. Sparks ignite between you, your body shuddering when his hands hook into your hip, strong grip guiding your movements against him. Your magic swells inside of you, and your head spins.

Take him, take him. Take his heart, take his song. Have him, his love, his heart, for eternity, forever.

You push him onto his back, dress rucked up around your hips, fabric pooling around the two of you.

“I want you.” you tell him, fingers fussing with his clothes, encouraging him to strip his shirt free and then unbutton his jeans. It’s messy, uncoordinated, and sloppy but you can’t find a care. You’re too filled with want, overflowing with desire for your mortal, your desperation mounting as he stills you, tracing a finger over your ribs and then down your pubic bone to where your slick, silken folds wait to be touched.

“Simon.” you whisper his name again, the word close to begging, and he shushes you, swirling a finger down where you’re leaking, circling the swollen bud of your clit with agonizing strokes that fill your senses with electricity.

“Shhh. I know what you need.” He soothes, and deftly pushes a finger inside of you, stroking along your walls. You shiver, face dropping into the crook his neck, and he turns his head so that the soft puff of his breath wafts over your skin as you whimper. “Does that feel good?” He asks, pressing another inside, his thumb flicking over your clit in lackadaisical patterns. You moan, body welcoming his touch, and you nip at the skin of his shoulder, eager to tear it apart, to taste his blood again. His other hand pushes at the back of your head, until your teeth are flush with his skin. “Go on.” He urges, and your eyes slip closed with bliss while you break the thin membrane, blood pooling to the surface as he lets out a small grunt. Your tongue swirls in it, painting his skin ruby, and you drag your lips downward, over where his heart pounds wildly in his chest. For you. It pounds for you. It sings for you.

“I need you inside me.” He pulls at the straps of the dress, divesting you of the top, exposing your breasts to the cool air and silver light of the moon. His thumb rolls one of your nipples and you feel for him, already free from his under garment, the things humans wear under their outside clothes, and you swallow when you feel the size in your fingers.

You sink down onto him with a hiss, body stretching for the intrusion, cunt spasming around the width and length as it fights to make room. He pets your hip soothingly, and you sit straight up, letting out a cry when you feel the true length of his cock inside you, the absolute fullness of it nearly seated in your belly. When you look back down, your eyes trace the smear of blood from his lips and shoulder, and your tongue darts out against your own skin, seeking the flavor of ichor that waits on the corner of your mouth.

Something glitters in his eyes, something shifting as if he finally recognizes the danger he’s in. Even here, with you astride him, split open his cock, hips stuttering in slow circles, wariness flexes across his face as if he knows, finally, that he is the prey and you the predator.

“It’s okay, do not be afraid.” You reassure him, stroking a fingernail over his breastbone, to where his heart flutters beneath your touch. He blinks, eyes blissfully blank, the firm grip of his hand on your hip relaxing before he says:

“Will you not tell me your name?” A long sigh slips between your teeth. Mortals. So hung up on familiarity. But how could you refuse a dying man his last request? Your lips kiss the shell of his ear as you give it to him, the point of your fingernail pressing into his delicate flesh, desperate to seek the strong muscle beneath, the song in his blood echoing through your own bones with supersonic vibration. The sounds and colors of the mortal realm all increase, too bright, too loud, everything shaking like the earth is suddenly trembling and then-

Something snaps inside of you. Magic, raw and powerful, a force unlike anything you’ve ever felt spills into you, your body being washed over with the rush of floodwaters, your heart and blood now singing for him, yearning for him, desperate to be consumed by him.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

The claim burns beneath your skin, your magic twisting away into something completely new, something more powerful as your mind grapples with the changing reality.

In the next moment, you’re spinning, tumbling through the air until you’re on your back, splayed beneath him, hands trapped at your sides. Your legs are folded underneath the width of his torso, your body opened for him just so, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, stretching the slick walls of your cunt with each punishing thrust.

“I-“ the words are cut off sharply when he seals his mouth to yours, teeth gnashing and gnawing down from your lips to your jaw and then up to you ear.

“You,” He punctuates the word with a sharp thrust, and you gasp. “are mine, little huntress.” It is a vow, snarled through clenched teeth, and your own body betrays you by tightening around him, eager and willing to be claimed. The air is hot, humid and electric with magic, the burning effects of your error travelling through your every vein, every cell of skin. The utterance of your name, the act of your own foolishness strings heavily between you, while your body tenses underneath him.

“Simon.” You breathe and he only nods, holding your cheek in a gentle palm, stroking a loving touch across your face.

“Sweet little Nereid...” He names your kind with a growl, and your heart slams in your chest, his cock thrusting into your cunt wildly, desperately. “More beautiful than the sea herself.�� The laugh is crooned, like the satisfying scratch of a needle against a record, and his fingers stroke your clit while he presses himself to you, your hips pinned beneath his weight, your body immobile. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” He smiles darkly, lips curling with sinister satisfaction, and you feel the cold hand of fate reaching into your own chest cavity, rooting around in your soul until magic is searing across your skin, a bending and scraping feeling digging underneath your ribs, your own magic twisting and clawing until it burns away into something new, something changed, something imbued with him.

No. It’s not possible.

“You… you’re-“

“Yes.”

Simon cares little for the mortal realm. It’s pace and its noise and its scents are all cloying to him, obnoxious and foreign, the general rush of its inhabitants and their lack of care for their world offensive to him and his kind. They do not care for their realm, and do not take care of it ether, instead choosing to let it rot and fester beneath their feet, their drive and determination to outdo one another single handedly responsible for the destruction of most of their world. They call it something here, 'capitalism', like naming it will excuse it, while Simon just calls it murder, and greed.

Mortals and their extreme indifference do allow him certain things, however. Their love of violence and obsession with wealth put even the most well-off of his kind to shame at times. His kind loved things that shone, certainly. But mortals? They loved things that bled. It was this lust for power, this ravenous streak of greed that gave him the opportunity to position himself as he has.

As a hunter. A killer. A ghost.

Simon had been hunting for the thing he loved for a very, very long time.

And tonight, he was finally going to bring you home.

The first time Simon saw you; over a century ago, it was beneath Brighton Pier. You had a human male panting after you as you walked beneath the wooden overhang, your hand cupping his cheek softly, eyes full of tenderness and love. Simon, and the man, were both entranced by your beauty, the way your body moved under the night sky, how your skin seemed to glitter against the sand. Simon watched as you led him to where the moon couldn’t reach, beneath the shield of the slats, the dark of the evening hiding you from all prying, curious eyes, except for his.

He watched you take the male inside your body, watched you lavish your tongue across his neck and chest, watched your lips form sweet words of reassurance and honey while you tasted his blood. He watched the nails of your fingers gleam in the low light, watched them sharpen and then dig, scratching and clawing beneath the threads of the male’s skin, until you held an ichor rich organ in your palm, a complex system of vessels and ventricles, it’s sinew glowing red beneath your touch. He stood in awe as you devoured it, your feeding turning into a frenzy as you consumed it piece by piece, the male bleeding out and dying slowly, all while still buried inside your cunt.

After your feast, you dragged the male’s lifeless body down the sand to the water with you, where you pulled it beneath the waves, never to be seen again. Surprised, and intrigued, he stood at the water’s edge, watching the tide that was tinged red lap calmly at the shore. He knew humans had a taste for blood, but this was another desire onto itself. What were you?

The following year, Simon couldn’t help but return to the same area in hopes of spotting you again, the creature unknown to him, a mystery begging to be unraveled. You appeared at dawn on the same day, with a horde of others, who then dispersed into the city and surrounding areas, following the sound of a song he could not hear. He became a creature obsessed, tracking your every movement, watching your every hunt and sacrifice. He stood in the dark while you made love to the mortals whose lives you would take, watched you hunt with wild abandon, watched you enjoy the small, tiny things in your eternal life that others often overlook. He began to know you, began to learn what you liked and didn't, began to learn what made you smile.

You became the brightest spot in his own too long existence, the yearly reminder of love, of vitality, of life. He loved you, desperately, recklessly so. His dreams were filled with soft, sweet visions of you, bloody moments of passion and adoring, lingering kisses that he swore he could still feel when he woke.

It took time, too long of a time, before he discovered who, or what, you were. He spent a century trying to learn how to lure you to the surface. Simon tore apart libraries, bargained favors across dimensions, granted wishes and wove powerful spells just to trade for information on you and your sisters, the Nereids, the lasting remnant of a forgotten power, reclusive magic lurking inside the deepest depths, a realm inside a realm, never to be discovered unless you wished it so. And even then, the additional answers he sought were scarce.

Every year, he returned to the human realm to see you, tucking himself away in cloaks of magic and darkness so that he could creep as close as possible to you. Every year, he watched you hunt, watched you capture your prey effortlessly and consume their heart. He watched you shed a tear for them. Watched your drag their corpses down the beach to the sea, where you carried them into the water with you before disappearing all together.

Eventually, time began to change you. He watched you regard your lovers, your mortals with callousness, and cruelty. He watched you treat them with tenderness, and adoration, caring for them, making their ends sweet and soothing their fears. He watched you stand on the beach for hours at dawn and try to fight the urge to hunt. He burned to take you away from this world, to sever you from your ocean, bring you home to him, but your kind did not live in his realm. He was unsure how to sustain your life, and the search for answers was slow. Years went by, and the soft dreams that he had always welcomed turned to nightmares, fueled by the fear he’d lose you before he even had the chance to try to bring you home.

A decade ago, he watched you falter. Your body trembled as you took your sacrifice, your cries so hysterical he was certain you’d draw the entire block to where you hid in the shadow of someone’s gaff. His own body was rigid with tense, untethered magic that sought to lash out, and he was rife with worry that you’d give yourself away, you’d be caught by some mortal force and unable to return to the sea when the sun rose. The fear he felt was unreasonable, uncontainable. He'd level the city to protect you, to keep you safe, and he nearly did. He almost took you, that night. Was quite close, so close that he was crossing the street in front of vehicles and preparing to pull you into his realm when you composed yourself and completed your harvest, the glowing organ in your hands proof of your will to live, to love.

He rarely left the mortal realm after that. Only to seek his final answer and solidify his plan, his masquerade as the masked Ghost allowing him to exist in the realm indefinitely, giving him the availability to be close for when the time was right, for when you would be ready.

A year ago, you were the last to return to the water, your steps slow and clumsy, your eyes tired and weepy. You appeared satisfied, but as you looked back on the city from the shoreline, he saw the hint of desolation in your eyes, the shadow of dejection haunting your face.

It was more than enough, to spring him into action. More than enough, to find your promised mortal for next year and steal his song, bringing it into himself by a small piece of blood magic, something so simple and obvious Simon cursed himself for not realizing sooner.

This morning, as he observed you and your sister on the beach, he knew he had been right. He could see it in your face. The pain of sadness, of loss twisting your elegance into an ache, those feelings compounded by the admission of your eldest sibling. This could be your last hunt.

It was time to bring you home. Forever.

“That her then?” Johnny nods, indicating he’s looking the same direction as Simon, watching you walk down the curb, paper coffee cup clutched in your hands, face smiling at the sun.

“Yes.” Simon answers, shifting uncomfortably. The bloody song has been heating his flesh for weeks, boiling in his veins and driving him practically mad. Nymph magic. Its incessant hum has been battling his own power, jockeying for position as it worked to pull you to the surface. Combined with his own, he wasn’t surprised it possessed the ability to bring you up earlier than normal, encouraging you and your sisters through the depths and to the shore. If his blood was singing, then so was every other poor sod’s in this city.

You cross the street into the park, dress swaying around your hips, and he indulgently stares at the form of your body, the set of your shoulders, the texture of your hair. He closes his eyes to breathe, reaching into himself to get a handle on the battle of will going on in his blood, the warring magic factions pushing and pulling beneath his skin, begging to be let out, trying to lash out. Soon. He reassures himself. She will be with him soon.

He can smell you from here. You’re ripe. Overflowing, your scent is like a flickering ocean breeze, briny and cold but full of life, of promise. You’re ready, ready to be taken from this awful realm, ready to be bent underneath his body, ready to be crying on his cock as you come while he floods your womb with himself and his power, tying you to him for all eternity.

That is, if he can get you to relinquish your name.

It is a key piece of his plan, and the one that worries him the most.

He knows you do not give it freely; knows you keep it guarded. It’s like you’re already aware that he waits in the shadows for you, watching, keeping track of every step you take, every year, from sunup to the next, until you slink beneath the water where he cannot follow.

The pressure inside his body is nearly unbearable by the time you step into the pub. Dozens of heads turn towards you, mortals’ eyes roving all over your body like you’re a treat for them, like you’re something delicious they’ll have an opportunity to taste. Foolish, greedy mortals, too busy staring dreamily at you to recognize the predator that you are, or the predator he is, oblivious to the two hunters in the room with them right now. He wonders, if you'd bathe in their blood, given an opportunity. The image makes him smile.

Johnny clears his throat expectantly, and Simon nods, casting a glance over to where Gaz sits with a pretty female on his lap, her attentions focused solely on him, her eyes heavily lidded with lust. Johnny gives him a nod.

“Good luck.” He offers and Simon waves him off. He’s no need for luck. His blood sings your song.

“Ready?” He nearly loses control when he watches your face fill with despair for a moment after his question, his aching need to soothe and comfort you almost forcing his hands out to touch you. I'm here, little huntress. You are not alone anymore. He cannot tell you this, not yet. So instead, he applies pressure to your hand gently and waits. When you nod, he breathes just a tiny bit easier.

He cannot stay in this place any longer. The eyes, the mortals, their inane thirst for alcohol and violence starting to scratch underneath his skin. He needed you, needed your name, needed to take you home to his realm, and all this noise and smoke and foul-smelling liquor stood in his way. The feeling of your hand in his soothes him, calms the anxious explosion that’s building in his chest, but it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough, until he has what he wants.

On the way out, he does not miss your little spell. He is, and has been, the most powerful creature in this room. He has felt every ounce of magic used, by you, by Johnny, by Kyle, all night long. It makes his heart swell when he feels your effort to push the dancing female into the arms of her scorned lover, makes his heart soar when he realizes perhaps, you have not given up on love, on life. Perhaps, you just need something else, something other than the hunt, to live for.

He allows you to take your time beneath the Pier. He cannot rush you, cannot allow you the feeling of anything being amiss, being off. You are so close to the sea, so close to the edge of the water that if he spooks you, it will be too easy for you to slip away. Too easy for you to be lost beneath the surface, again, just as you have been for hundreds of years.

When your teeth tear into his flesh he nearly moans, almost loses control again, but tamps down the urge to spring forward and toss you into the sand beneath him. He needs your name, needs your name so bloody badly it has his head spinning, his entire being desperately urging him to act, to claim, to take you. Your cunt is searing hot around his cock, your body shivering in his arms as you rock your hips delicately, eyes watching him half addled, crazed with the lust for his blood, for his heart.

“Will you not tell me your name?” He thrusts slowly up into you, and pity flashes across your features as you bend forward to brush your mouth against your ear. He feels your lips part, hears the intake of your breath and then-

You’re his. The magic begins immediately, bonding you to him, searing you into his soul and vice versa, the song in his blood slipping away until all he feels is the combined force of your power and his, the melding of souls and magic that will guarantee your existence in his realm, by his side, guaranteeing your survival, your ability to thrive. He takes advantage of your confusion, of the chaos that rises in your heart and flips you on your back, spreading your thighs wide beneath him and plunging his cock as deep as he can. So close. So, so close, and then you will be truly his, for as long as you both shall live.

“I-“

“You,” he thrusts harder, desperate to claim you. “are mine, little huntress.” He hisses it, pushing the words forward with the brunt of his power, and you gasp before whispering his name.

“Sweet little Nereid…more beautiful than the sea herself.” He kisses your throat, stroking your clit at a torturous pace while your confused gaze tracks his every movement. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” The magic pushes through your blood and bones, continuing to stitch and sear you to him, and he can’t help the feelings of possession that come over him.

His. His. His.

His magic cuts and gnaws at your own, ripping and shredding it to bits until it’s infected with him, the strength of your name, your free admission to him, turning you inside out, changing the very chemistry of your body. He watches with dark satisfactions as your face shifts, your lips parting with understanding, eyes widening with your knowledge of the truth.

“You… You’re-“ Clever little huntress.

“Yes.” He purrs, and punches his cock back up inside of you, pressing close to your cervix, your body wet and needy, just for him. You shudder and blink hazily, confusion flickering across your features while his magic roots around inside of you and binds you to him, cell by cell. He can still smell you, smell the cool salt air of the sea that comes from your skin, smell the ripeness of your body, your willingness spilling forward in the air, the scent of sweet honeysuckle and sea holly. Your thighs tighten around his hips, your body rocking swiftly in time with him while your brow furrows, like you’re not sure what you should be doing. He licks at the stain of his blood on your lips, his tongue pushing into your mouth, and you let out a sharp whine, small hands flexing against his chest.

“No.” you admonish, face stricken. “No. No, you t-tricked me.”

“I did.” He agrees, reaching between the two of you to rub your clit in a swift circle, your breath hitching. Your face twists into something sour, but your cunt clenches around him, and his lips curl into a crescent moon smirk. “Are you going to come on my cock, sweet one?”

“Unnf.” You moan nonsense, turning your face away from him but he does not stop, hips snapping against yours, his body working to bring yours closer and closer to its climax.

“I think you are.” He hisses and grips your jaw to turn your eyes back to him. They’re wet with tears, but he doesn’t see fear in them, doesn’t see the despair. Only flares of rage, and the heat of desire, the electricity of the magic that is now shared between the two of you. He smiles triumphantly. “I think,” he relaxes his pace, dragging his cock out of you painstakingly slowly, gaze never leaving your lovely face. “you’re going to come for me, and then I’m going to breed you, little huntress.” You tense around him, squeezing his cock, the words pulling a delicious, physical reaction from you that shakes his focus for a moment. His palm lays flat over your lower belly, low enough that his thumb can feel the hardness of your clit, can stroke around it’s hood while you gasp and convulse in his arms. You shake your head stubbornly, chest heaving for breath, and he slams himself back into you, your spine curling forward into his chest.

“Gods.” You cry out, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto, finding his shoulders and sinking deep, deep enough that he knows you're drawing blood. It oozes from the tiny wounds, tracing down his skin and when you pull away, your fingers have been darkened with it.

He watches with small wonder as you slip them into your mouth, face going slack with bliss, cunt spasming around him while he strokes deep. His skin prickles, mouth finding yours again, and you moan into him, uninhibited, full of abandon.

“I have watched you for over a century, my sweet Nereid. Watched you hunt, watched you love, watched you lose.” He slows to look down at you, caressing your face with a gentle touch. “I have watched the light fade from your eyes, watched despair take over your existence.” Your gaze widens, mouth dropping open in surprise, and then closing abruptly, eyes softening around the corners.

“Simon.” You murmur, pressing your finger to the weeping wound from your teeth.

“My huntress. You will never be alone again.” He noses your jaw, licking and sucking against your skin, cold brine exploding against his tongue. Your scent crests, peaking with the honey flower and salt, your body yearning beneath him, cunt milking his cock. “Come for me.” He encourages when he knows it’s time, when he sees the glossy want all over your face. It doesn’t take much urging, another stroke of your clit and you’re coming, body locking up around him, muscles straining as you cry out, face full of bliss and legs tense around his hips. You clamp down around him, holding him deep inside your body like a vice but he works you through it, thrusting slowly inside your scorching cunt, your walls desperately trying to keep him inside. “There you go.” He soothes, fucking you through the aftershocks, your face still twisted up. “That’s just what I needed.” The orgasm makes your more pliable, more soft and less angry, and he sees in your eyes what he knows to be true. You want this. Perhaps this is not what you would have chosen at first, perhaps the magic was too strong in your veins in the beginning, but your body knows what your mind works to accept. You are choosing this, choosing him, over the hunt. Over the sacrifice. Over the immortal life of loss.

So, so close.

He folds your legs towards your chest, opening you deeper and you mewl, lips parted in dazed, post orgasm glow. He can’t help but kiss you again and again, his painfully slow thrusts forcing irritated breaths to puff from your nose.

“Something you want?” He teases, and you nod, pressing your face into his shoulder and groaning into his skin.

“Simon. Please.” You voice breaks, and he feels your cunt pool around him, liquid heat forcing him to grit his teeth in an effort to stave off his own orgasm.

Ask me for it, little huntress.

“Please, what?” He mocks, thumb pressing down on your clit hard, causing you to keen. He doesn’t move, just stays steady inside of you, your cunt working pull him deeper.

“Please, please. I want-“ you gasp when he bites the skin of your neck, and he smiles wickedly. Your cunt practically strangles him now, body working to drag his orgasm from him, magic singing in both of your hearts.

His. His. His.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

Your scent overpowers him, the swell of the ocean behind him combined with the salt of your essence pulling him harder into your gravity.

“What do you want?”

“I want your come.” You beg and he snarls, finally losing control, fucking into your eager body with abandon, hard and punishing while you moan and cry beneath him. He takes your earlobe in his teeth before whispering a vow:

“Then you shall have it.” He plays with your clit, the intensity of his strokes matching the pace of his thrusts and you pant eagerly. “You shall have it every day until you are full of me, full with my child.”

“Yes.” You moan, and he feels you moving towards another climax, your muscles spasming and eyes slipping shut.

“I’m going to breed you, give you my baby, sweetling. Make you mine, forever.” Your back arches and you wail, your cunt clamping down on him again, and he thrusts as deep as he can, chasing his release, fueling his burning desire to empty himself inside of you. He lets go completely, untethers his magic, lets it fully fuse with yours as he spills inside of you, the pressure of his orgasm working against your aftershocks, and your own magic that wraps itself wildly around him, clawing at the seat of his power, desperate to attach itself.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

His. His. His.

You fall asleep on his chest, body relaxed and sated, mouth open in a small o. He needs to get you up, needs to get you ready to travel to his realm but in this moment, he’s content to sit here, against the old wooden pier, timing the rise and fall of your breathing and planning for the future, for eternity.

“Will you care for her?” A musical voice asks from a short distance, and his head snaps up to see your sister, the one you stood with on the beach this morning, inclining her head towards your peaceful, sated body that sits snugly in his arms.

“Always.” He promises, and she nods, eyes looking down the shoreline.

“I am happy for her.” She looks sad, forlorn, not unlike how you appeared hours ago.

“It is not too late, for you to hunt. There is still plenty of time before the sunrise.” He tries to encourage, and she nods.

“Perhaps.” Simon briefly wonders if Kyle or Johnny are still in town, a sinister idea forming in his mind, taking shape before his very eyes. He pushes, just the gentlest bit of magic, the piece that’s mixed with yours, towards her. A long moment passes, and then, “I think I’ll walk.” She motions up the pier and gives a goodbye nod, as he strokes a hand down your spine when you shiver in his arms.

You do not stir until she is a speck on the horizon, and when you do, you lift your head wearily, like you’ve slept for a thousand years.

“What’s going on?” you murmur, shifting your dress so it covers your thighs. He presses a light kiss to your forehead before giving an answer.

“We’re going home now, little huntress.”

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost call of duty #mermaids #mermaids au #magic au #ghost x reader #cod fanfic

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stealingyourbones · 28 days

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(Click for better quality or view the read more to see a text version of the tropes)

Take your best shot at DPxDC Non-Trope Bingo! This is a writing challenge, not an ask meme. The goal for this isn't to be critical of common DPxDC tropes, but to do a fun writing challenge that flexes your creative writing! Diagonal, Horizontal, Vertical, and Blackout bingos are allowed. Write a fic without the tropes for your selected bingo! How to submit your fic: - Tag @stealingyourbones with your fic and bingo - Reply to this post with your bingo - Add your fic to the NTDPxDCWB ao3 Collection

Row 1 Column 1: Danyal/Demon Twins/Secret Twins/Is a Wayne Row 1 Column 2: DP Character Works at: (Pizza Shop, Wayne Enterprises, Arkham, Book Shop, Batburger, Coffee Shop, Watchtower) Row 1 Column 3: Adoption/Unofficial Adoption/Adoption Bait Jokes/Mistaken for Wayne/Parent Batkid Row 1 Column 4: Shipping (as main focus/ within fandom shipping) Row 1 Column 5: Ghost King/OP/Eldritch Danny/ GZ Ambassador Danny

Row 2 Column 1: Summoning/Constantine Sold his Soul/Not Pariah Dark but it’s Danny bait and switch/Batfamily used as Sacrifice Row 2 Column 2: Liminal/Ecto-contamination/Lazarus Pits as Ectoplasm Row 2 Column 3: De-Aged/ Physically Different Danny/ Animal Transformation Row 2 Column 4: Anti-Ecto Act Ignorance by Any Heroes/Secret GIW/Amity Park is Unknown bc Firewalls/Ghost Magic/Etc Row 2 Column 5: Reveal Gone Wrong/ Fleeing Amity/ Bad Fenton Parents

Row 3 Column 1: OP Amity Parkers/Amity Similar Levels of Crazy to Gotham/Danny Not Shocked by Gotham Row 3 Column 2: Mistaken for Clone/Clone/Clark Hates Clones Row 3 Column 3: Batfamily/Gotham Row 3 Column 4: Homelessness Row 3 Column 5: DP Character Works as: (Ice Sculptor, Medium, Engineer, Chemist, Burglar, Rogue, Vigilante)

Row 4 Column 1: Good Dad Bruce/WFA Dynamic Batfamily Row 4 Column 2: JL/Any DC character even remotely being shocked by Danny/his situation/ghost zone Row 4 Column 3: Danny starstruck by Aliens in JL/ Space Core centric fic/ Space Ancient Danny Row 4 Column 4: Dani as Danny’s Daughter/ Danny as Jazz’s Son/ Fentons as Dan’s Kids Row 4 Column 5: DP Character Goes to: (Gotham Academy, Gotham University, Coffee Shop, Library, Gala)

Row 5 Column 1: Shipping (cross fandoms specifically) Row 5 Column 2: DP Character Is: (Retired Vigilante, Knowledgeable About Ghosts, Related to DC Character, Roommates with DC Character) Row 5 Column 3: DP Character Kills Joker or Rogue\ Fear Gas doesn’t Work as Intended Row 5 Column 4: Lady Gotham/Eldritch Gotham City Row 5 Column 5: Related to Wonder Woman via Pandora/Trained by Pandora or Clockwork

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #bones prompts #writing challenge #NTDPxDCWB #Non Trope DPxDC Writing Bingo Challenge #Non Trope DPxDC Writing Bingo

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lholland14 · 2 months

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Error: Name Unknown

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: When you vs the Paige Bueckers in her own game, but don't know who she is.

Warnings: Somewhat suggestive? Also, I have no idea who most of the UCONN basketball team is SORRYYYY I JUST FOUND OUT PAIGE AND IM OBBSESSED!! Also this isn't edited so if you find anything pls tell me and I'll fix it.

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The annual Sport Swap, the day where all UCONN athletes show off their athletic ability by playing other UCONN teams of different sports in different games. The staff would randomly choose two teams to face off in a series of random sports determined by a spinning wheel.

It was electrifying.

It was your day, as someone who played soccer, this day was a chance to show off. You were a newer athlete, but that didn't mean you weren't popular, fans began noticing you after pulling of a 2 goal comeback and an assist against St. John in the last 15 minutes of the game winning 3-2. Ever since then you were highly regarded as the "Comeback Kid" of UCONN and was shortly named captain, even with that title though, Paige Bueckers was the one to watch. Winning award after award, game after game, heart after heart.

"Okay! Everyone gather around!" Your coach yelled into the clamouring locker room, "The competition is out and I think you're gonna be happy about it this year!"

You and your teammates sprung out of the tightly packed locker room and into the meeting room with a slide show on titled "SPORTS SWAP". As soon as everyone was settled down your coach lectured you all on being good sports and how everyone is winners.

To be honest, you had tuned out long before he had began talking. He finally garnered your attention when it was time to reveal who you were playing.

He clicked a button and he slide switch to reveal the highly anticipated words, "UCONN WOMEN'S SOCCER VS WOMEN'S BASKETBALL"

Your teammates paled at the though of having to compete against the 6ft tall team of total hotties, you, however, didn't understand the fear. Being a younger player in a much more rigorous major you didn't get out much, in fact you never went out, or watched a lot of TV, including certain games starring a certain blonde haired girl.

Your coach began ushering your solum team into the basketball court where the girl's basketball team was waiting to hear what sports you'd all be playing. The moment you opened the court's doors your team was welcomed with loud music, laughter and cringy dances by the basketball team.

You smiled, but on the inside you hated it, you hated how cocky they were. You never met them, or seen or watched them, but you hated them. Their smirks and loud music in a dominant way to show that they simply didn't care.

They knew that they would win. All you and your team was to them was dust on the pedestals. Tattered challengers standing before gods, someone they could merely dismiss without a thought.

Your blood boiled at this, and with a defiant look and steeled nerves you asked your teammates who the most famous one is out of the group.

"Paige Bueckers, she's the blond one with braids." Your friend replied staring heart eyes at the 6ft tall girl with piercing blue eyes. You simply rolled your eyes in response, earning a shove from the girl.

"Settle down everyone!" Geno yelled, "I'll be spinning the wheel soon to determine what sports we will be playing today." The basketball girl's screeched in response, yours remaining dead silent.

He began spinning the wheel landing on ice hockey (cue the groans), cheerleading (out of the corner of your eye you could see a younger girl joking rub shoulders with the blue blue eyed blondie you were told about earlier) and finally, basketball.

The final spin landed on basketball, you could visibly see your teammates hearts sink as the other girls erupted in screams. Geno turned to us in apology offering to do another spin, just as your teammates agreed to this you asserted a cold no.

He sighed, and told us to skate up.

~~HOCKEY~~

You had to admit, it was pretty funny to see both teams just slide across the ice in various positions (none of them correct). Both teams not even bothering to play anymore, just running out the clock in order to show off their "skill".

By skill you meant how long one could stay standing, and that record was held by a girl named KK on the basketball team, her record? 15 seconds. Other various skills included how many players one person could take out in the least amount of time currently held by you.

It just happened so fast, one minute you were standing hunched, arms sprayed out in hopes for finding balance, but instead finding the stomach of a certain blonde haired girl and the mouth of you teammate. Desperately needing balance you accidentally swung out and clutched onto the girl, effectively knocking your teammate onto the ground. However, Bueckers wasn't so balanced herself and began skating backwards due to the sudden force your body had. With each backward step you two knocked down three other played before tripping over a random 6'3 body.

Landing softly, thanks to girl whose shoulders you were clinging onto, whose hands are on your thighs that were currently straddling her waist. As you slowly lifted up your sweaty body from hers you felt the shock that came from unconsciously grinding on her abs after her shirt rode up. The shock sent waves of red onto both yours and hers face, breathing heavily you stood back up, and stuck your hand out to help the blonde haired girl. She sheepishly grinned in response, the cocky smirk wiped from her face and onto yours.

You didn't even notice the long forgotten puck sliding slowly into your goal.

Point Basketball team.

~~CHEERLEADING~~

"Lets gooooo!!!" KK screamed the moment we entered the gym. As you continue walking to the middle of the gym you could feel the intensity of Paige's eyes at the back of your head. Was she really check you out? With your mind of occupied by the blue eyed beauty you failed to notice the pom poms set out by Geno, and because you're a tad dramatic ...you screamed, thinking it was a spider.

Both teams erupted in laughter as your teammates ran to help you up, heat rushing to your face due to embarrassment, not because you can still feel the heat of Paige's hands on your waist, and definitely not because the same girl was staring at you with a lopsided smile.

"Well, I guess Y/n has volunteered her team to go first!" Geno clapped your coach's back with a grin, while the rest of your team groaned and walked over to the pom poms. After 20 minutes of practice, trying to choose a song and props your team was ready and rearing to go.

With you donning ridiculous white sunglasses and a plastic poofy skirt, you took your place at the center of the gym. The moment the music Apple Bottom Jeans played you started dancing, only stopping when a teammate fell or was laughing too hard to continue, finally ending with the last pose, one hand on your hip and the other in the air with smug eyes and a goofy smile.

Honestly, Paige didn't know if it was hot or the most adorable thing she has ever seen. The way your curved hips swayed with the music, or how the skirt was showing off your ass perfectly. Your goofy smile and the way you were the first to help a teammate, either way, Paige Bueckers was hooked.

Her teammates could tell too, the way she would just gravitate towards you, how she would look at you for approval when she did a move correctly, tripping over her feet the moment your eyes locked into her's.

And thanks to your quick observational skills, point you.

Well, Point Soccer team.

~~Basketball~~

The court was buzzing with excitement, with countless students coming in just to see Paige the basketball team dominate a team no one has heard of, but with your 5'7 frame and hidden skills you were determined to win. Unbeknownst to the basketball girls, your team actually played basketball frequently, practicing teamwork, communication and trick shots. Along with UCONN had offered you both a soccer and basketball full ride scholarship, but no one knew about that.

After both teams came out it was clear to everyone who the audience preferred, the moment Paige came out the students cheered and you were pretty sure you could here girls begging Paige to fuck them. You'd be lying if you hadn't had that exact same though ping through your head at least once today.

With you facing off for the ball against a someone named Aaliyah, you didn't even bother jumping against her 6'3 frame, instead opting to go behind her in order to steal the ball from KK. The moment the ball was in your grasp you hurled the ball towards the basket, and a loud buzzer played, signifying the bucket you just made. The crowd was dead silent, then cheered so loudly, you fell out of surprise, falling right into Paige.. again.

"That was insane ma," She murmured against your eye, her hot breath fanning your neck causing you to shiver involuntarily. You just bowed your head in response to the praise, heat spreading to your face and to your core.

With the crowd not settling down anytime soon, you returned to your position. Nodding to your teammates in unison. You had a game plan, you had each others backs and you were going to win.

With multiple well timed passes, a couple of threes and some insane dunks preformed by your team, you were well ahead of the actual basketball team.

And they were pissed.

Paige was laughing and cheering and smiling, until, she wasn't. Until she started to get annoyed how you were beating her. She was the record breaker, you weren't. She was a god at this school, you, well you were a nobody.

After you had just scored a three that Paige thought was hot, she started guarding you more closely.

"Who are you?" You breathed out behind her body, trying to block you from getting the ball.

"Paige, Paige Bueckers" She managed to gasp out, her body was totally gassed from the earlier events.

"What? Are you famous or something?" You cocked an eyebrow that you knew would only agitate her more.

"You could say that"

With her momentarily distracted your teammate passed the ball to you in the final seconds.

"Really?" You smirked, "because you seem," throwing the ball in a no-look half court basket, the way you saw Paige had done in a video.

Just before the buzzer could signify the end of the game you put your hand on the back of her neck pulling her close, and whispered,

"Irrelevent."

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #paige x reader #pb5

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mothandpidgeon · 22 days

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P Boy Podcasts

I was swapping podcast recs with @schnarfer and asked her what kind of podcasts would each of the Pedro boys host? (I’m a bit of a podcast junkie. I'm literally listening to one right now.) Well, we were brainstorming and I went and created episode art for each of their shows. Which ones are you subscribing to?

Nic on Nic Get a peek into the brain of legendary talent Nicolas Cage. Cage collaborator (and fanboy) Javi Guttierez is watching everything from Con Air to National Treasure 2. Take a deep dive into the films of Nic Cage and hear exclusive interviews with the man himself.

The Unfortunates There are spies living among us, everyday people living double lives. What makes them do it? And how do they keep their secrets? Each week, Dave York shares a true story from the clandestine world of espionage.

Foundlings Din Djarin’s parenting journey has never gone to plan because he never planned on becoming a dad! Come along as he navigates the challenges of single parenting a 50 year old son. Each week Din leads insightful discussions with a range of guests— pediatricians, parenting experts, and other parents that are just trying to figure it all out.

Declassified Drugs, danger, and dames. The fall of Escobar made way for the Cali Cartel. Hear the story from Agent Javier Pena as he recalls the hunt for the Cali Cartel and reveals details that have never been heard before.

Tales from the Green Ezra shares spooky fales of distant worlds on this anthology fiction podcast. All set on the Green Moon, these bizarre and enthralling stories introduce you to a lush world filled with intrigue and danger.

Heist The Mona Lisa only became a cultural icon after it was stolen in 1911. Learn about the greatest capers in the art world with host Marcus Pike. Hear first hand accounts going undercover during his time in the FBI.

No Cap 4 best friends chat about anything and everything. Hear Santi, Will, Frankie, and Ben give their takes on dating, travel, and current events. You’ll love listening to them react to r/aita.

UNKNOWN ZONE Alien encounter? Evidence of the lost city of Atlantis? Ghost fucking? Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. Join celebrity host Dieter Bravo for real life brushes with the unknown!

Joel’s Construction Corner Have a burning home improvement question? Or maybe you just like a southern drawl? Host Joel Miller has 30 years of experience in contracting and he’s here to share his advice with you. As soon as he figures out how to use this damn computer. Ellie does the ad reads with a pun for every one.

Hungry History What does the invention of margarine have to do with Napoleon? Did Marco Polo really introduce pasta to Italy? Which Founding Father had a craving for ice cream? Follow your stomach to discover the origins of your favorite foods as we travel back in time with host Pero Tovar.

I might've gone overboard. But I wish these all existed???

If you reblog this please rec me your favorite podcasts in the tags.

#podcast #pedro pascal #pedro boys #p boys #joel miller #marcus pike #dave york #pero tovar #ezra prospect #dieter bravo #frankie morales #javier pena #din djarin

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hailsatanacab · 8 months

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I'm a sucker for Twin Reveals, idk if you know that. So I have to ask about "you're joking, right? gala pranking turned twin reveal"

ngl this is the flavour of the month for me rn, I've really hopped straight back on the demon twins au with a passion! you get 500 words of the intro here because I have no restraint :)

———

Tonight is becoming, as often happens with a gala, a dismal affair.

Bruce has (finally) managed to extract himself from a torturous conversation with Mrs. Johnson, and is allowing himself a quiet breath with a glass of apple juice masquerading as whiskey when someone taps him on his shoulder.

“Mr. Wayne?”

It’s a voice he recognises, despite only meeting the man once. He doesn’t groan—he even resists the urge to throw his glass at him and make a break for it—but it’s a close affair. He’s not Superman, after all, and there’s a limit to his strength.

With a deep breath and the customary ditzy smile of Brucie Wayne plastered on his face, he turns towards Mr. Masters.

Only to immediately freeze.

“Ah, yes, I don’t believe you’ve met.” Mr. Masters turns and presents a young boy to him, gently pushing him forward slightly. His dark hair is ruffled and there’s a thunderous look on his face as he flashes Bruce a glare before stubbornly fixing his gaze back on the floor. “May I introduce to you my son, Daniel Masters?”

This is the fourth gala Vladimir Masters has been to since his reintroduction into high society, only the second one he and Bruce have attended together, and, as Bruce is silently lamenting, there is still so little known about the man. Yet, he doesn’t strike Bruce as someone that would pull a joke like this.

After 20 years locked away in his house suffering from an unnamed illness, his return had been completely unexpected and not entirely welcome, from what Bruce has heard. Too many years spent away shrouded in mystery has people weary about forging new connections, but his recent successes with his business might persuade a few brave—or foolhardy—individuals into making some investments.

Which must be why he’s now back on the gala scene.

Which must be why he’s chosen to become Mayor of a little unknown town in Illinois, as baffling as the choice may be.

Which must be why he’s pulling this stunt. This practical joke. Something to break the ice, to share a laugh with Bruce. To start a conversation.

The only real question is why Damian is going along with it.

“I’m sorry?” Bruce says, chuckling awkwardly.

Poor Damian looks just about ready to pull out a sword and start swinging, so perhaps he’s not as comfortable in going along with it as Bruce first thought. There's a tension in his shoulders, his whole body as taut as a bow string. Did Dick put him up to this? It’s definitely something his eldest would find funny.

“My son, Daniel. Daniel, say hello to Mr. Wayne.” There’s a flash of annoyance in Mr. Masters’ eyes as he gives Damian another nudge to introduce himself.

“Hello, Mr. Wayne.” Damian growls out, eyes still stubbornly lowered, his jaw tensing painfully. His voice sounds different, almost like he’s affecting Mr. Masters’ accent. Just what is he playing at? Bruce is struggling to find the funny side in all this.

Is this a case they’re working on? Not a prank, but rather some investigation that Bruce isn’t privy to? It wouldn’t be the first time his children have kept him out of the loop, but to do it in a gala, and a Wayne gala at that, where they’re sure to be recognised…

No, it has to be a joke. They’re planning to embarrass him, they have to be.

#dpxdc #i chickened out and put it under a read more which then made me add more to the snippet haha #i was 'working' on this in the shower and then got out and immediately forgot everything i thought should happen next 😔 rip me #demon twins au #oh man it gets so juicy it gets so juicy vlad is a dick and bruce's 'dad-vision' is activated fairly quick ahhh!

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wsoc-gay · 4 months

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World Cup Results III

Part 1 Part 2

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: The rest of Ona's pregnancy.

A/N: And I present to you over 7000 words of pure fluff. Please enjoy and as always leave your requests in my asks!

You and Ona stayed in England with your family until two days after Christmas. You loved getting to go home, you didn’t see your parents often now that you live so far, so every time you get to go home you embrace the time there. However, this time your mom and two older sisters were busy fussing over Ona to pay you much mind. Both of your sisters already had kids so while you were entertaining your nieces and nephews, they were fussing over how the baby of the family was finally going to expand her family.

You loved how much your family loved Ona, they have since you introduced them when you were 18. This love only grew when you and Ona had called them after the first ultrasound. The time in England was well spent but went by quickly and before you both knew it you were back in Spain spending the remainder of your break in Ona’s hometown.

Spending time with Ona’s family went much the same as seeing your family had. Her parents were overjoyed when they heard the news about their first grandbaby and were excited to finally have time with their daughter. You both loved getting time to spend with your families and were upset when it was time to return to your normal life.

Now officially fifteen weeks along Ona was done with matches but was still allowed to train non-contact. The club discussed with you and Ona that a statement needed to be made surrounding her absence from the team sheet and together you settled on saying Ona suffered an ankle injury during training and would be out for an unknown period of time.

You both knew eventually you wouldn’t be able to hide it from the public but agreed you wanted to keep it out of the public eye for as long as you could.

---

Saturday rolled around and it was the day of your gender reveal. You and Ona had originally agreed that you didn’t want to have a party and make a big deal of it, but Mapi and Ingrid were not letting that happen. Ingrid wanted to celebrate the baby, but Mapi took any excuse for a party.

So, now you and Ona were arriving back at your home after being forced out the door that morning by Ingrid insistent on decorating your house. When you walked through the door you both were shocked to see your home coated in blue and pink decorations and your entire team scattered between your living room and backyard.

You took turns hugging your teammates as they began to notice the both of you entering the room. After all the greetings and just spending some time with your teammates enjoying the company Ingrid announced that she had enough of waiting and it was time for the reveal.

She led everyone outside to the table on your porch which had a cake decorated in blue and pink frosting. Ingrid explained that she had the cake filled with either pink or blue frosting and that all you and Ona had to do was cut the cake and show off the color waiting inside.

You and Ona stood behind the cake, one hand on the small of her back and the other placed on her stomach, when she thanked your teammates, “Before we do this, I just wanted to say thank you all for being here and for supporting us as much as you all already have,” She started to tear up clearly emotional from the hormones as you pulled her tighter against your side and her hand covered yours over her stomach, “We’re so lucky that our baby is going to grow up with you all.”

You cut her off before she got too emotional, “Now let’s find out if our baby is going to be Barça men’s or women’s team captain!” Your comment was met with laughs and cheers from your teammates as you looked over to your girlfriend, “You ready to do this?”

She nodded as you picked up the knife together and sliced a piece of the cake being careful not to look down and see the icing covering the knife. You slid the knife under the slice before your teammates began counting down the reveal, “Tres, dos, uno!”

You lifted the slice to reveal the icing inside met with cheers from your teammates and Ona collapsing into your arms, both of them wrapping tightly around her back as hers found the back of your neck.

She whispered into your neck, emotions lacing her voice, “Una niña pequeña.”

You littered kissed all over the side of her head going down to her cheek, “We’re having a baby girl, love,” Ona dropped a hand from the back of your neck to rub against her small bump. You dropped to you knee and took her belly in between your hands and placed small kissed there before whispering against it, “Hola mi nena, te quiero mucho.”

You rose back to your feet and took Ona’s face in between your hands and kissed her passionately. Both of you forgetting of your teammates surrounding you as you were caught up in your own little world.

That was until Alexia spoke up, “A little future Alexia! The future queen of Barça!”

Then broke out some arguments between teammates about who the baby would become as a footballer. You and Ona were greeted by hugs and congratulations from every teammate in attendance, everyone so happy for the little girl on the way.

The party began to settle down and while many of your teammates were still there you and Ona found yourselves sat on your couch, one of your arms wrapped around her shoulders with a hand on her bump, it seemed like your hand hadn’t left the spot since finding out. You kissed the side of her head, “It feels a lot more real now, knowing it’s a little girl.”

The brunette chuckled, “It’s felt very real since I was spending every moment throwing up. Or maybe since I had to run out of training to throw up.”

You laughed, “Yeah, that made it real, didn’t it?”

Ona turned her head to kiss you, “I know what you mean, amor, we’re having a baby girl,” Her hand rubbed circles on her bump, “There’s a little baby girl in there.”

You smiled looking up to think, “Does this mean its officially project-y/l/n?”

She laughed and slapped your thigh, “No, it is project Batlle, she will be an outside back like her Mami.”

You scoffed, “Over my dead body, our baby girl will captain England and Barça at center forward.”

Ona shot up at that and placed a finger on your chest, “Okay, now that is not happening. No child of mine will play for anyone, but Spain.”

You laughed and pulled her back to lay against you, “We will see what she decides when the time comes, love,” You sighed thinking about the future, “I can’t wait for her to all of our matches, seeing her in the stands, our baby girl watching her Mami out there.”

“Her Mami and her Mummy,” You smiled down at her, “Now that we know it’s a girl we’re going to need to start thinking of names.”

You dropped your head back against the couch, “Oh god not names there’s too many of them.”

---

You felt the baby move and kick for the first time when Ona was 20 weeks. Ona had felt her move for the first time at 17 weeks, you were lying in bed when it happened.

Ona had just woken up; you were still sleeping as was usual for you both. She was laying on her side scrolling through her phone when she suddenly felt a slight flutter in her stomach. At first, she thought it was an oncoming of nausea, but when moments later when she felt it again she knew it wasn’t nausea.

She tried ignoring the feeling, but as it kept happening over the next few minutes, she was becoming increasingly worried about the new feeling. This was one she had never felt before and she wasn’t sure if something was wrong with the baby. As she felt the fluttering more her anxiety was increasing.

After a few flutters Ona convinced herself, something was wrong with the baby and in a panic began calling your name, “Y/n, y/n, wake up,” She looked over to you and saw no movement, typical you always have slept like a rock. She began rocking your shoulder in desperate efforts to awake you while repeating the same phrase.

After the third shake you shot up in bed looking over at Ona, who looked terrified with her hands on either side of her stomach, “What’s wrong, Oni? Is it the baby?”

Your hand found its spot on the front of her stomach as you looked at her face with worried eyes, “I don’t know something feels weird,” Her eyes met yours when you noticed the tears beginning to form in hers.

Now you were panicked racking your brain for what could be happening, “What do you mean weird? Should I call the doctor?”

She was still sat in the same position her tears now falling, “I don’t know, it’s like a fluttering,” She looked around the bed panicked, still, “I’m going to call my Mami.”

You nodded your head, “Okay yeah, call her first.”

She grabbed her phone from her side and dialed for her before beginning to pace around the bedroom, “Hola Mami, lo siento por despertarte, pero creo que algo anda mal con el bebé.”

You stood up and took a hold of her free hand to slow her pacing as she focused intently on the call and continued speaking to her mother, “No sé, se siente como un palpitación,” She took a deep breath and a small smile came across her face, “En serio?” You continued looking at her with a confused expression, not being able to hear what the other side of the conversation was. Ona smiled at you and squeezed your hand, to let you know it was okay, “Vale, gracias Mami, te amo mucho.”

She hung up the phone and threw it back to the bed, but wasn’t telling you what happened, “And? What did she say?”

The brunette took one of your hands and placed it flat against her stomach with a smile splayed across her face, “She said I’m feeling the baby move, she’s kicking in there.”

Your jaw dropped and the shocked expression moved into a smile as you leaned into press a passionate kiss to her lips. You dropped to your knee and placed your hands on either side of her stomach, lifting her shirt to place kisses across the small bump, “Hola, mi bebé, you’re really in there kicking aren’t you.”

Ona laced her fingers into your hair as she chuckled at your words, “She’s really in there,” She used her free hand to wipe some of the tears that had fallen, “Oh thank god she is okay in there.”

Ever since that morning every time Ona felt something you raced to place a hand in attempts to feel something. It was slightly disheartening knowing that you still couldn’t feel anything, but you both knew this was nothing abnormal and that as the baby grew you would be able to feel it from the outside.

As training was nearing the end you were playing some small-sided matches, which Ona was no longer allowed to compete in. She was sat on the bench watching when she felt the same fluttering, but stronger this time. She placed a hand to cover the spot of the kicking and thought she slightly felt it from the outside.

Ingrid, who was sat next to her, must’ve noticed the tight nit expression on her face, “Is everything okay, Ona?”

Ona knew if she said the baby was kicking that she’d ask to feel, but she knew you deserved to be the first to feel it so, as hard as it was, she lied to the Norwegian, “Oh yeah, everything’s good, just a little nausea.”

Ingrid gave you a soft smile back replying okay while you sat, excitedly waiting for the end of training, and hoping that the baby would still be kicking.

A few minutes later Jonathan blew his whistle signaling for the end of training and Ona was immediately on her feet running towards you.

You had a confused look on your face as you noticed her running over, “What is it, love?”

She grabbed your hand and put it across the side of her stomach where she was still feeling the small kicks. You still had a confused look on your face as your teammates were all watching you two trying to figure out what was happening.

It took about 30 seconds before you felt it, an ever so slight push against the palm of your hand. Your jaw dropped and you looked up to Ona with wide eyes, “Was that what I think it is?” A smile crossed her face as she nodded and you suddenly wrapped your arms around her waist, lifting and spinning her, before putting her back on her feet and moving you hand back to the spot you felt the kick, “She did it again! Look at her go!”

Ona covered your hand with hers still smiling up at you when Mapi spoke up from behind, “Mind letting us in on what just happened?” Ingrid slapped her arm for clearly interrupting a moment between the two of you.

You turned to face your teammates with the biggest smile on your face, “Our little footballer is in there kicking away!”

Your teammates raced over to you two, but Ingrid was the first there, pushing you out of the way and replacing your hand with her own.

Mapi pulled you away from the chaos and dragged you into a hug. You both turned to look back at your girlfriend as you chuckled, “You might be in trouble with that one,” you said pointing at the smile on Ingrid’s face as she felt the kicking.

Mapi smiled, “She’s been talking about babies non-stop since you guys told us.”

You patted her back, “You know another little Barça baby would be cute, they’d get to grow up together.”

The tattooed Spaniard laughed, “We’ll see in a few weeks if she’s serious about this or if it’s just from watching you two.”

---

Ona was 26 weeks along when you were driving home from training and Ona brought up the idea of announcing the pregnancy to the public. The media team had mentioned to Ona the idea of making an announcement and they were right, it needed to happen sooner rather than later.

Ona was now definitely showing, and the media team was having to make sure no photos of training had her in them. The sudden absence of her from all social media was making media outlets and fans begin to ask questions. Ona’s sudden disappearance as well the “ankle injury” that seemed to be never ending yet absent when she was spotted at matches, didn’t help with the speculations.

You both loved having this little secret out of the public eye and just enjoying the time of you both and your closest friends and families knowing, but you both agreed it was time to go public. Ona was getting sick of having to answer questions about her ankle injury and having to wear baggy clothes to hide her now obvious bump.

There was a match today and you both decided that after you would make a post on Instagram for the announcement but didn’t want to distract from the match by posting something beforehand.

However, you had slight other ideas. You scored in the match that day and knowing that you’d be announcing it that night, shoved the ball under your shirt and sucked on your thumb as your celebration. As you ran back into position you made eye contact with Ona, seeing her sitting above the bench shaking her head at you with a hand resting on her stomach.

The media team shook their heads at you as you danced around the topic of your celebration during interviews and avoided any questions asked about it. After being done with media you assured them you would be announcing it that night and that the club had full permission to release their statement in the morning.

That night Ona laid against your chest as you made a joint Instagram post with a few professional photos you had taken earlier in the week at a local beach. The first, you sat in the sand with Ona between your legs, and your hands wrapped around her resting on her bump; the second, you standing side by side with one hand on the small of her back, and the other placed on her stomach her hand covering yours; the third, the two of you holding up a small Barcelona jersey with “June 2028” written on the back; and finished the post off with the photo of your celebration from earlier that day. You didn’t add a caption to the post, everything having been said in the photos.

The media and fans went crazy over the post, it seeming to be reposted hundreds of times on every site imaginable. Every media outlet reaching out for statements. The club agreed the next day to release their statement and that if you both wanted, they could set up a media conference for you to address it yourselves.

The announcement from the club didn’t cause as big of a stir as your post had made, however, fans were freaking out after the press conference. It was two days after the official statement from the club where you and Ona were sat to answer the media’s questions. Plastered all over social media were clips and photos taken during the meeting. Many of them being moments of you gushing over your girlfriend and future child with a smile splayed across your face.

One moment, however, was shared more than any. One reporter asked Ona why she chose to disrupt her career at what seemed to be her prime, to have a baby. Obviously, you and Ona both agreed that the time was right and had lengthy conversations before about why the timing was right, but hearing the reporter phrase it how they did caused a pit to sink deep in your stomach. You couldn’t help, but feel like you were disrupting her career, that Ona putting everything on hold for this may not have been a good idea.

You were beginning to sweat and tried racking your brain for the best way to answer the question, to defend your family, but no matter what you thought everything turned back to the doubt. That was until Ona spoke up, confidently enough for you to believe she had prepared for this question, “I told y/n that I wanted to have a baby while we were still sitting on the pitch after the World Cup final,” She looked to you with a soft smile, “We had talked about it before, but it always seemed like something in the future for us. But, after that match I felt like I had completed everything I had dreamed of in football. I’ve won two World Cups, multiple Champions Leagues, Domestic Cups, League titles, there isn’t much more in my career I could ask for.”

You leaned on your elbow and raised your hand to address the room, “I would like to say that I told her we could wait until after our careers, and also gave her a month after the World Cup to make sure she didn’t think of this just because of the adrenaline from winning,” Ona chuckled as you reached to grab her hand under the table, “But, when she said she was serious about starting the process I was all in, I cannot wait to start a family with this woman.”

Ona had a smile so big on her face you could see it in her eyes, “I want our kids to be able to watch our careers, I want them to grow up with memories of coming to matches, being around the teams, coming onto the field to celebrate championships with us, and I want to be able to experience that in my career,” She looked and motioned to some of the staff members sat with you, “The club has been incredible, I’ve been working with them throughout the pregnancy since I was no longer allowed to play, and doing everything we can to make the transition and recovery back into football as easy as possible after my maternity leave.”

The club made a few comments on Ona’s current training regiment, which at this point in the pregnancy was non-contact drills with the team and some slightly modified lifts.

The last question was from one of the major sporting outlets, you hadn’t announced the gender of the baby, so it was one of the major questions swarming around, “So, do we have a future captain of Barça Femení or the Men?”

You and Ona hadn’t talked about whether or not you wanted the gender out there before she was born. You didn’t mind either way, but you weren’t sure how Ona felt about the topic, if she wanted to keep that private until she was born. You looked you her and nodded when she made eye contact, letting her know the response was up to her discretion. Her hand rested on the top of her bump, hidden under the table as she smiled, “We won’t force them into anything they do not want to do, we will encourage them to play football, and hope that they will love it the same way we do, however, if they don’t share our passion they won’t be forced into it,” Ona was obviously being cautious with the pronouns she was using, which confused even you, not knowing whether or not she was going to tell them, “But if they do end up having a career like ours, they will be a second-generation Femení player.”

You smiled at her response and jumped to interject, “And the Lionesses!”

Ona swatted at your arm and chucked, “She means España, but that’s long conversation in itself.”

The conference was wrapped up swiftly and as you both walked down the halls of your beloved club, hand in hand, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride bubble up inside you, for both your girlfriend and daughter. Listening to Ona answer their questions with such confidence silenced any worries you previously had about this not being the right time, and any fears you had about Ona possibly regretting the timing later.

A lot of emotions swirled up as you walked down those halls. You had been at this club for quite a few years now, and like Ona had mentioned, won so many titles and shared so many special moments. Your team’s victories as well as one of your Ballon d’Ors sat in display cases on the walls. You had so much pride in this club and in the life you had built here, you couldn’t wait to share it with your daughter one day.

---

Ona was 34 weeks along the week of the Champions League final. The final was being hosted at Wembley and you originally had some hesitations with her traveling so far, this late into the pregnancy.

It was the day before you would travel to the final when you were sat in the doctor’s office awaiting the doctor to come in for your routine ultrasound, and for Ona to ask her to convince you to allow her to accompany you and your teammates for the trip.

Every time you had an appointment to see the baby the morning was full of anxiety sided by excitement. Sitting in the office you were sat in your usual chair besides Ona, your knee bouncing a hundred miles a minute as your thoughts ran. Even though there was nothing to attest that something was wrong with the baby you were always worried going into the ultrasounds that something could have happened.

Ona noticed your nervousness and reached a hand out for you, “Ven aquí, mi amor,” You stood up and walked to stand beside where she laid on the table.

You moved your hand, not being held by Ona, to flatten out her hair, “¿Todo bien?”

She squeezed your hand, desperate to calm your nerves, “We have no reason to believe there is something wrong with the baby, you can calm down.”

You leaned down and pressed your lips to her hairline, “You know I just worry.”

“I know you do, but you don’t have to,” Suddenly Ona felt a harsh kick to her ribs, lifted her shirt to reveal her now large bump, and moved your hand she was holding to cover the area of her stomach being assaulted, “See, your daughter is trying to tell you she is fine.”

You smiled as you looked at Ona and felt the kicks against your hand, “That’s our daughter,” You leaned down to press a kiss to where your daughter currently resides, “Hola mi nena, te quiero mucho. I cannot wait to meet you.”

Ona smiled at the interaction, “But you better stay in there for at least 6 more weeks.”

You remained where you were standing for the next few minutes waiting for the doctor’s arrival. Some of your anxieties lessened due to feeling your daughter move around, but still desperate for someone professional to come in and alleviate all your fears.

The doctor came in and as soon as you could see your little girl on the screen tears came to your eyes, as they did at every ultrasound. You tightly gripped Ona’s hand as you watched your daughter, noticeably bigger than the last ultrasound, kicking around inside your girlfriend.

You smiled as you watched her move around, “My future footballer in there, already training look at her.”

Ona chuckled, but adoringly looked at the screen, “She could relax with her training when I am trying to sleep,” She patted your chest, “You know she may not want to play football and I will not let you force her.”

You laughed and motioned to the screen, “Are you joking, look at her in there. That’s a future Ballon d’Or winner,” Ona sent you a glare, “She will not need to be forced into anything, she already is used to the sounds of a match she will be born with the love of football.”

Ona’s tense expression turned soft, thinking about your daughter being on the outside with you, “Hopefully the matches playing on the tv with sooth her to sleep then.”

Now you were dreaming of the future. Having a match on the tv as you tried your best to stay quiet while your daughter slept on Ona’s chest, her scolding you every time you yelled toward the match being played. You would try your best to keep the mumbling commentary quiet, but your daughter would be far too used to the sound of your voice repeating every movement on the screen.

The doctor confirmed everything was healthy with the baby and your fears slowly drifted away. She noted that the baby was on the larger size, compared to Ona, but this was nothing to worry about with her coming from your eggs and you being quite bigger than the small Spaniard.

The doctor then explained that she was happy to let Ona fly with the team to the final, knowing it would be a quick trip there was nothing to worry about. She confirmed there were no signs to cause early labor and that both her and the baby were completely healthy and cleared for the travel.

That is how you found yourself running off the field as soon as the final whistle blew, straight to where Ona was stood in the stands besides both of your families. You gently helped her over the barricade and down to celebrate with the rest of your teammates. She was sporting a Batlle jersey specifically made for her to wear to this match but was still stretched thin over her noticeable bump.

Having played in the matches during the group stages Ona was able to be recognized that day as a player and as a Champions League winner. You didn’t think you’ve ever been so in love with her as you watched her walk up to receive her medal, the bottom of it gently resting on the top of her bump, one hand on the underside cradling it.

You received your medal and followed to stand beside her as the trophy celebrations began. One arm wrapped around her shoulders as your teammates surrounding you jumping for joy over the excitement of victory. You and Ona were in your own world as you stood together cheering, Ona too uncomfortable to do much jumping. You knew in this moment watching the joy on her face, that this would be a day you would remember for the rest of your life. You, your girlfriend, your soon to be born daughter, being stood on that stage celebrating a Champions League win, technically all three of you having been involved in the tournament.

Hundreds of photos of you were taken after that match, with and without Ona, but the most special had to be you and Ona, foreheads touching, simply lost in each other’s eyes, your hands and her own resting on her stomach, completely lost in the moment. That night you posted to Instagram, one of your team celebrating, the photo previously mentioned, and one of your diving header during the match, closing it off with a simple caption: “Baby’s first Champions League.”

That night your teammates insisted you and Ona join them for the celebrations, you insisted the two of you simply go home and celebrate together, Ona being exhausted and you not wanting her anywhere near a busy club, but Ona said she was up for going for at least a little while. She wanted you to have the chance to celebrate one final trophy before your whole world was turned upside down.

It took a lot of convincing from your girlfriend, but eventually you agreed, after forcing Ona to promise you it would only be quick. As soon as you walked into the busy club, littered with your teammates and their friends and families, you walked Ona over to a table where you planned to stay by her side until your agreed upon time to leave.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to drink quite a bit while sitting at that table. The alcohol in your system caused you to allow Lucy to drag you away from Ona, leaving her with yours and her parents while you were dancing and celebrating all over the club. As time ticked by Ona grew increasingly tired and ended up returning to your home alongside your parents. After a little while and many more drinks you stumbled your way over to the table only to discover the Spaniard missing from her seat.

After it was confirmed, she had been taken home, you were following close behind. Lucy and Kiera lived in the same neighborhood as you so knowing that Lucy had also already had way more than enough to drink, Kiera offered to take you both home.

You insisted on being fine to walk yourself in and Kiera allowed for it, more focused on taking care of her clearly inebriated girlfriend. You stumbled into the house knocking into a few doorways as you made your way to your guest bedroom, even in your current state not wanting to wake up Ona. You knew she had been having trouble sleeping recently so, therefore, you fell into the bed which has not been touched in months.

You must have been louder than you thought because suddenly while you were face down in the mattress you heard a voice coming from the doorway, “What are you doing in here?”

You turned towards the voice to see Ona stood in one of your t-shirts, which normally looked oversized on her now showing off the bottom of her bump, with a glass of water in her hand, “You’re supposed to be sleeping, love.”

She chuckled, but stayed leaned against the door frame, “Well you ran into the wall a few times trying to find this room.”

You rolled onto your back and covered your face with your hands, upset over waking her, “I came in here so I wouldn’t wake you and now that’s exactly what I did. I’m horrible you deserve better.”

Your girlfriend’s heard fluttered hearing how upset you were over waking her. Even in your intoxicated state all you cared about was her, you didn’t go through the kitchen and bang glasses trying to get water, you didn’t crawl into your own bed and accidentally shake her awake, all because you were thinking of her. Ona removed herself from the doorway and walked over to your bedside, running her fingers through your hair, “You did nothing wrong, mi amor, it’s very sweet you came in here simply not to wake me. You’re too good to me.”

“I could never be too good to you,” You looked up to her with a sly smile, words slightly slurred, “Baby Mamí.”

Ona chuckled, “Would it make you feel better if I told you that you didn’t wake me,” Your brows furrowed confused, “Your daughter has been kicking me ever since I left the club, she doesn’t like going to bed without her Mummy.”

You leaned up onto your elbow, coming face to face with where your baby resided, placing a hand there, “Mi nena you can’t be keeping your Mamí awake, she needs her sleep so you can grow nice and big like your Mummy.”

Ona laughed and covered your hand with hers, “She can’t grow too big while she’s still in there, she can wait until after she’s here.”

You looked up to her with a serious look, “We’re having a private conversation here.”

Ona raised a hand in surrender, “Lo siento, continúa.”

You felt a kick against your hand and smiled, “I’m right here baby girl, it’s just you and me, Mamí isn’t listening,” You whispered as Ona watched in utter adornment, “I cannot wait to meet you, you’re going to be so perfect because your Mamí made you and she’s perfect too. But now you have to go to sleep so she can get some sleep and you can keep growing in there. You can practice your football once you are with me, and I can train you to be the captain of England.”

You heard Ona sigh from above you, “We’re not getting started on this conversation,” She grabbed you hand and started dragging you out of the bed, “Now that you have calmed her down, lets quickly go to our bed so I can fall asleep before she starts up again.”

You pressed a kiss to your girlfriend’s stomach before getting up and allowing yourself to be dragged into bed. You laid in bed with an arm wrapped around Ona and your hand resting on her bump, your whole world right there in your arms, “Goodnight my loves.”

“There’s medicine on the bedside table for when you wake up with a headache. Duerme bien, mi amor.”

---

Six weeks later on a hot day in the middle of June your little girl decided she was ready to meet her parents, ready to meet the world, and ready to see everything you had spent hours explaining to her every night.

Ona’s contractions had started early that morning, they were light and far apart for the morning. Ona had tried insisting you on going to training, knowing it would be hours before you could go to the hospital, but you weren’t leaving her side that day. So, there you laid on your couch, with Ona laid against your chest when her water broke. After about an hour of you pacing around your home, making sure you had everything ready to bring home your little girl, and making sure your hospital bag had everything that you could ever need even though it had been packed for weeks, it was finally time to go to the hospital.

The labor was slow, full of Ona rocking on a yoga ball and pacing around the hospital room, with you never a step or two away from her side. After about four hours in the hospital Ona’s parents and brother had come to visit. Her mom soothing her daughter and giving you a chance to step out of the room, use the restroom, and give yourself some time to take a breath. It was a stressful day and getting the chance to take a deep breath was exactly what you needed, knowing Ona was in the hands of her mother. It was hard seeing Ona in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it, but you knew how strong the small woman was and that there was no one on Earth you’d rather be doing this with.

It was about an hour later when Ona was insisting on the doctor to come in, that it was time. Everyone had told her to trust herself and to listen to her body, and truth behold, the doctor came in and confirmed she was 10 centimeters.

As the doctor prepared what she needed, you took your spot besides Ona, one hand firmly gripped in her own, and your other arm resting behind her head. You let out a nervous breath and kissed her forehead, “You’re doing so well already, I’m so proud of you.”

Ona looked up with you with tired eyes, but a smile none the less, “She’s going to be here.”

You smiled right back, “Yes she will, love, we’re going to have our baby girl here real soon.”

“I have to push,” Ona announced.

“Once the next contraction hits, you can push, Ms. Batlle,” the doctor confirmed.

Ona pushed, gripping your hand and letting out a scream throughout each. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, in between pushes, “You’re doing so well, Oni, she’ll be here soon.”

After about twenty minutes of pushing the doctor announced that your daughter’s head was out and now, she should take a break before the shoulders. Ona laid her head back against the pillow and you pressed a kiss to her lips, “I love you baby, you’re doing so well,” you whispered rubbing your thumb along the back of her neck.

Ona turned her head to look at you the exhaustion written on her face, “I’m so tired, I can’t.”

You gave her hand a tight squeeze, “Yes you can, love. You’re doing so well, I know you can do this,” You told her again, “Thank you so much for doing this, I love you. Now just a little more and we have our baby girl.”

The doctor looked up at the two of you, “She’s almost here now, one more push, Ms. Batlle.”

“See, you’re almost done,” You whispered. You didn’t move from your spot, but leaned forward just in time to see the doctor catch your daughter, “Oh baby, she’s here,” you said as you opened the hospital gown uncovering her chest and the doctor laid you daughter there. You had tears in your eyes as you pressed a kiss to Ona’s hairline, “You did it, love, she’s here now.”

The doctor asked if you wanted to cut the cord, but you completely missed it, too busy watching Ona with your daughter laid against her chest. She used a hand to lightly push against your bicep, “Go cut the cord, amor,” You snapped back into reality and walked to the doctor, cutting the cord.

You returned to your spot beside the bed, enamored with the little girl lying on your girlfriend’s chest. Her brown eyes staring up at Ona, as you wiped the few tears that had fallen from the Spaniard’s eyes. You kissed Ona’s temple, “You made the perfect baby, I love you so much.”

Ona let out a soft laugh and laid a gentle kiss to the top of your daughter’s head, “She is perfect isn’t she.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off of them until the doctor gently interrupted, “Mamí, you need to deliver the placenta. The nurses can check your baby girl over, do all the measurements, and then she’ll be right back in your arms,” Ona shook her head and nodded towards the doctor, “Mum can stay with her the whole time, it’ll be quick.”

You could tell Ona was still hesitant to let her daughter go, “I’ll be right there with her the whole time,” You whispered, “It’ll be quick, and we’ll know she’s okay.”

Ona nodded, with tears still in her eyes, “You don’t let her out of your sight.”

You kissed her forehead, “Never,” the nurse slowly took your daughter from her arms as you followed close behind.

Once the nurse finished cleaning her off and inspecting what they needed, he announced loud enough for Ona to hear, “You have a perfectly healthy baby girl, weighing in at a whopping 8 pounds 2 ounces.”

You could hear Ona laugh from her bed, “No wonder that hurt so bad.”

You picked up your daughter carefully holding her in your arms, finally having your baby girl in your arms. You slowly walked to the bed while whispering to her, “Hola mi nena perfecta, I hope you recognize my voice, it’s your Mummy. You’re so perfect just like your Mamí,” You smiled down at her, staring into her big brown eyes, “You’re such a big girl, huh? You’re going to be a perfect center forward for England one day, carry on your Mummy’s legacy,” You whispered the last part, knowing better than to let Ona hear it.

Ona slid to the side of her bed, making room for you to sit, and admired how you looked at your daughter with all love. You reached to transfer the baby back into Ona’s arms, but she shook her head, “Just sit and keep her for a little while, hold your daughter.”

You happily sat next to her as Ona laid her head on your shoulder and reached an arm around to rub your daughter’s back. You gently lifted the baby to place a kiss on her forehead, “It’s a good thing you didn’t stay in there longer, mi nena, I don’t think your Mamí would’ve had room for you to get much bigger.”

Ona laughed beside you, “No wonder I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks, you had me stretched thin, mi pequeña.”

“Sleep now, Oni, you deserve it.”

She hummed at your comment, “I’m okay, just happy to watch you two for a little while longer.”

You looked to her smiling, “Are we still going with the name?”

“Sí, Camila Grace Y/L/N Batlle.”

As you sat there with you daughter in your arms and Ona laid beside you that this simply was the best moment of your life, no trophy and no accomplishment in football could ever top this moment. All you ever needed for the rest of your life was right here with you, everything could come tumbling down and you could never play football again, but as long as you had your girls you knew everything would be okay. As those brown eyes looked up, you knew the feeling of love in a way you had never felt before, not in the way you loved your family, or the way you loved Ona, in a way that was waiting for this moment; the moment your own daughter laid in your arms, the arms that would protect her for the rest of her life.

#woso #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #womens football #woso community

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murder-cookie-dust393 · 6 months

Note

Shadow Milk Cookie. Chloroform. Yandere. Do what you will with this information.

-🏳️‍🌈👨‍❤️‍👨

I'm gonna put you as the anon listed above since- That's what I assume you mean?

I unintentionally put shitpost aha

Disclaimer: MC is still gender neutral, they are just referred to as queen for chess role purposes.

Tw: Eyestrain for the art that goes along with this piece, chloroform-like magic, kidnapping to a different dimension, implied future murder

You find yourself in a dark void. So black, you can't see anything through the shadows that swirl in your vision. You're not sure what it feels like. Is it threatening? Or is it a sense of peace? You aren't sure. This sense of the unknown makes you anxious.

Suddenly, a big blue eye opens in front of you, the colour glowing within the dimmed surroundings. The shade of blue reminded you of Lapis. A very bright one. But the eye itself, it was terrifying. You nearly wanted to break into pieces right then and there.

"Oh, my queen! You're finally here!" A voice eagerly chirps, a slightly maniacal tone to it. It seemed ecstatic to see you, too much so. You couldn't form an answer, still processing your odd environment.

"I've missed you~ It's been ages since I've seen your face! You don't look any different- oh, maybe you're just a little prettier, you silly thing!" The voice giggled as the eye blinked. The eye squinted upwards as if it was smiling. But wait, why did it act like it's seen you before? You don't know who this entity is. Not even what it is. Is it a cookie? A beast? Confusion swelled within you as the seconds passed.

"My sweet...What is that face?" The voice slowly faded away, as your world suddenly blackened once more.

——————————————————

"MC, are you okay?" You wake up to the face of Strawberry. She seems concerned, her big brown eyes down-turned. How cute. "You were shaking in your sleep."

"Um yeah, I'm okay. I just had a weird dream." You respond, still lying on the grass where you and the group are camped. You clutch onto your blanket a little tighter.

"Like a nightmare?" She tilts her head to the side.

"Not exactly. I can't put it to words..." You mumble off, trying to recall the eye that spoke to you.

"Oh okay." She glanced at the blue and violet sky, commenting, "It's almost sunrise. Do you wanna prepare jellies with me? I'm sure the others will wake up soon."

You nod and sit up before flailing your blanket to the side.

——————————————————

You and your friends are going through the forests of Beast Yeast, cautious of all the creatures and evil beings lurking by. That is until your group stumbles upon a random chessboard on a glass table. In the middle of the fucking path, in the middle of fucking Beast Yeast. Instead of black and white, the board is in different shades of blue.

"What in tarnation is this?" Wizard leans closer, staring at it intensely. Fidgeting with his fake beard, or in other words, his scarf.

Chili Pepper butted in, "The fuck you mean bro, this is obviously a dumb chessboard-"

"LANGUAGE!" Gingerbrave suddenly turned out to stare at Chili Pepper uncannily, before smiling again. "I'm sure it's something dangerous! Let's not touch it."

"Guys,"

"Or it could be a chessboard and table someone decided to randomly leave here."

"Shush- I'm always right." Gingerbrave did an imaginary hair toss.

"Guys..."

Wizard raised his hand, just like a nerd, "No? I am, thank you. By the almighty power of magic I-"

"You're an ice cream. Also, you're the one who's screaming for help half the time." Chili Pepper chuckled, poking at Wizard.

Strawberry took a breath and sharply, albeit quickly spoke, "Guys!"

The whole group turned to look at her, which made her flush with embarrassment. She pointed at the chessboard. "The pieces are moving on their own." When the gang looked back at the gameboard, they were met with a surprising sight.

The chess pieces moved by their own accord. Which revealed that the darker blue side was winning compared to the lighter blue. It was a competitive fight, with both sides making quick moves. It was mesmerizing, you aren't sure why.

You reached out your hand and touched one of the pieces in curiosity. Only to feel a sudden freezing cold gust fly at you. Your surroundings become dark, just like your dream as the yelps of your friends sound out around you. A sinister chuckle joins along, as your body is thrown into a blackened world once more.

"Honey! Honey, honey, honey, my honey."

You stand before a jester cookie, covered in eyes. He grins, his clothes like the blues of the chessboard. He swiftly goes over to you, cradling you in his arms. You can't move, overcome with a freezing cold that leaves you immobile.

"I've waited much too long on your reincarnation. We could have had a wonderful marriage by now if it weren't for that bastard Elder Faerie." He spoke softer than before but had a spit of venom for the name Elder Faerie. He leans closer, uncomfortably so. He makes a minuscule hum before pecking your mouth.

"I'll just keep you here for a bit until I have everything ready." Out of nowhere, a shadow comes for you, binding you in it. You start to feel drowsy. "We'll be so happy once more, I promise." Your vision starts to swirl into darkness, to the point you can't make him out anymore.

You fall asleep, unable to fight off the dreadful binds.

——————————————————

"My Queen~! Wake up! I have everything ready for you." You're nudged awake, as the binds come off you. You find yourself on a throne: cold and metal. As look forward, you are shocked to see a glowing chessboard just like the one you saw on the path. But also freaked out to see Strawberry and Gingerbrave tied up in the same binds, floating in the air.

"Wha- What is this?" You stammer, overwhelmed with all that has happened in the last few moments. Was this a joke? A jester terrorizing you and your friends, what a lovely day.

"Why, it is the moment you get to see your idiots crumble right before you by the hands of your rightful husband, me: Shadow Milk Cookie!" He comes over to you, putting a crown on your head. It was plain, just a metal crown with no jewels or anything else.

"And you're the queen! The most powerful one on the board!" He giggles, patting your hand. You tense at his touch, wanting to get away from this glorified position you were in. But time and time again, you can't move away from your spot. It's as if you were hardened glue stuck to a label that no one can seem to pry off.

"I don't know what reincarnation you talked about before, but whatever it is, stop it! My friends have done nothing! I don't even know who you are!" You plead, wanting his weird reincarnation thing to stop. You felt guilty for thinking of touching a moving chess piece in Beast Yeast. Gingerbrave was right: everything is dangerous.

"Honey..." Shadow Milk frowned, holding your face in his hands. He looked disappointed rather than enraged. "I know your memories are somewhat faded, but those cookies are distracting you. Distracting you from me, your beloved." He lightly bumps his face against yours, staring into your eyes.

"What do they have to do anything with your dead lover?" You ask, a little too harshly, but needing to get the message across.

He gasps. "They aren't dead! They're right before me!" He puts his jester hat on his head, going over to Gingerbrave and Strawberry. He glares at them briefly with his dual-chromed eyes before returning to you.

"Just let me. Just let me kill them." He hisses with a grin. His eyes scare you, the way they're wide open with insanity. "I need some desperate alone time with you and also get our marriage decided once more." Shadows started to succumb to the world, except for the light from the board.

"No! Don't you dare!" You shake your head, unwilling to let him get away with this. Your poor friends. Just what kind of madness did you pull them into?

"My Queen! When will you let me kill them? They are insignificant to our love!" He exclaims, reaching a hand out to you.

Oh, what a devoted lover isn't he? Waiting for eons for you only for you to be so disgusted with him.

——————————————————

This was really fun to write. Now, I’m not quite caught up on the lore yet. I just read his profile and said fuck yeah so…mhm.

I will say, I didn’t go exactly chloroform, but the same aspect of it with his magic.

I used honey cuz I was like “Old. But also insane. Equals honey.”

Alright I’m gonna go do homework now because I’ve neglected other work (APRIL AND MAY IS HELL FOR MEEE)

- Celina

#cookie run #yandere cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #yandere #yandere x reader #crk x reader #crk #yandere shadow milk #yandere shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #yandere shadow milk cookie x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

Note

Hiii I know you’ve talked about Lilia and Silver’s relationship before but how about Lilia and Malleus’s? He’s one of Lilia’s “sons” too, the first! I’d like to hear how you see their father-son relationship.

cbjsbsjwjskdn So strange!! I feel like I haven’t really talked much about Lilia and Malleus’s father-son relationship even though I’m such a sucker for family-related drama… Well, now is as good of a time as any!

***Please note: there are spoilers for 7-68+ in the main story; if you are comfortable with late book 7 spoilers, then please proceed with reading below the cut!***

Book 7 has made it pretty evident that Malleus thinks the world of Lilia and is willing to go to great lengths to protect him. Their bond is something that has been alluded to many times over prior to this point though!

Malleus has mentioned that Lilia trained him when he was younger. He did have formal tutors, but it was Lilia who instilled survival skills in him and taught him lessons unable to be learned through just a textbook. We get to observe one such scene via a flashback, which shows the aftermath of one of Malleus’s fits. The castle and various staff members were encased in ice, and along comes Lilia to fix things. He offers Malleus a bowl of shaved ice and invites him to eat with everyone (as the cause for his anger in the first place had been that his grandmother was busy with her duties and could no longer make time to each with him as promised). Lilia reminds Malleus that someone like him has great powers, so he has to wield it responsibly—otherwise he could have lost many of the people he is now sharing this snack with. (This is a very valid lesson since Malleus was capable of magic—and thus harming others—right out of the eggshell; he once singed Lilia’s hair with his flames.)

Malleus reports that Lilia has cut his hair for him (despite Malleus probably being able to go to a formal expert or the court’s hairdresser). Lilia has also sung to him at night and even taught Malleus how to play instruments.

It’s not clear to what extent Lilia was involved in his liege’s life, because even though he is established as a caretaker to Malleus, it was also revealed that Lilia was apparently banished from the capital city so they’d have to arrange to meet elsewhere. It’s known that Malleus would sometimes visit Lilia and baby Silver in their forest cottage, but again the frequency of these visits is unknown (Did he, like his headstrong mother, sneak out against the wishes of the senators?) I’d imagine that Malleus is kept fairly busy with studies to prepare him to ascend to the throne, but from the way Lilia describes raising Malleus, it sounds like he was with him quite frequently: “I always know exactly where he is. After all, I have been watching him since he was brushing eggshell off of his head.”

To this day, Lilia serves a similar guiding role, often acting as the facilitator between Malleus and his peers, as well as continuing to be a mentor to him. Malleus maintains his standoffish and difficult to approach aura at NRC, so it is Lilia who encourages him to engage with his peers. He delivers a holiday card to Malleus’s new friend who has taken up residence in Ramshackle. He invites Malleus as his plus one to Silk City in A Firelit Sky, wishing for him to see more of the world—even when disaster strikes and Lilia cannot accompany him. He extols the virtues of understanding and bonding with other races both in the main story (book 6) and in vignettes (Malleus’s Dorm Uniform). He gives Malleus a formal invitation to his farewell party (like, envelope and all!), because he knows just how much that would mean to him. Lilia has seen how a country looks when it has been ravaged by war and hate. He knows how a heart can grow bitter and resentful if left to fester in isolation. So he works his ass off to try and ensure that Malleus, the future of his country, can lead it to an era of peace and love that Lilia only got to experience with the passage of time. It could also be said that Lilia places a big emphasis on Malleus as their “future” since Lilia already suffered the loss of two close friends, Malleus’s parents.

Lilia seems to think of Malleus as a capable leader and one of great character, though perhaps marked with inexperience and a lack of worldly knowledge (which is why he pushes for Malleus to go out of his comfort zone). Most notably, he tells Leona in book 2: “[… ] with that sensitive ego of yours? That so quickly directs all your petty anger at your retainers... Well, the idea of you ever contending with a REAL king like our Malleus—is absolutely laughable. Even if you COULD defeat Malleus, so long as that's how you choose to conduct yourself? You would never be fit to rule!”

At times, Lilia has the habit of treating Malleus like a child. Something he does a lot is reassure his prince that it is okay to feel a certain way (usually frustrated or angry) and that Malleus is not capable of hiding the truth from his keen eyes. Lilia usually encourages Malleus to be more honest with his emotions and to take the chance to act like the child he is and enjoy his school life. Malleus tends to not take to the former very well, reminding Lilia that he is not a child and that he understands the circumstances. Despite these claims, he to hold Lilia in high regard and trusts him a great deal. Lilia currently occupies his vice dorm leader seat, which is implied to be handpicked by the dorm leader. Furthermore, Malleus trusts Lilia to fulfill the dorm leader duties that he is not capable of or able to, as we see Lilia attending dorm leader meetings and leading the Diasomnia freshmen during orientation.

Lilia is a more lax than Sebek and Silver when it comes to monitoring Malleus. He is of the belief that their prince needs his own independence and to experience life without people constantly breathing down his neck. Malleus, as we know, enjoys solitude like his midnight strolls throughout campus. In Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes, he also discusses the freedom of going out in public without an encourage accompanying him. Lilia is able to easily read and understand Malleus’s feelings in this regard (though he is good at reading all of the Diasomnia boys).

Malleus still cherishes the virtual pet that Lilia gifted him years ago. He takes care of it diligently, even though he is constantly faced with the cycle of Gao-Gao Dragon-kun/Roaring Draco growing up and leaving the nest. According to Malleus’s Labwear vignettes, he considers the virtual pet one of his most important treasures.

The two are able to pal around with each other despite holding the other in such high regard. When Malleus and Lilia are placed on opposite teams for Beans Day, they find fun in roughhousing and relish in the challenge (not really paying attention to the fact that their sheer power and speed is on a whole different level than that of the other students). They also served as co-conspirators in Endless Halloween Night, something which upset the other students and they both apologized for. Mischief isn’t entirely off the plate for this duo!

Malleus grew up without his parents (and his grandmother often kept away by her royal duties), so it’s possible that he latched onto Lilia as a parental figure. He is shown to be protective of Lilia both in vignettes and in the main story. For example, in Lilia’s PE Uniform vignette, Rook is chatting with Lilia and indicates that he is interested in Lilia as his hunting quarry—but Malleus throws the ball meant for long throwing at Rook, just narrowly missing his nose. “Perhaps he suspected that you were picking on little old me,” Lilia suggests. However, the example I’m sure we’re all familiar with of Malleus being protective of Lilia is book 7… when he decides it would be better you force everyone to have happy dreams instead of accepting a reality that changes and forces you to say good-bye to your loved ones. Malleus explicitly states that he is taking these actions so he “doesn’t lose [Lilia]”. Indeed, it is Lilia deciding to drop out of NRC and retire to the Land of Crimson Long that was the impetus for Malleus’s blot to kick into overdrive. When Lilia “wakes” from the dream, Malleus is eager to keep him in it. He offers to come up with a new dream, desperate and intent on keeping Lilia trapped there.

Malleus holds a lot of weight for Lilia too. When Lilia is pulled into a dream world fastened by Malleus’s magic to guarantee a “happy ending”, Lilia dreams of… an era of war? At first, Silver and co. find this to be strange because war isn’t something you tend to associate with happiness. It’s not until far later that Silver realizes what the real “happiest moment in [his father’s] life” is: the moment of Malleus finally hatching from his egg. Previously, Malleus had been very picky and rejecting the magic offered to him by others, even his own grandmother. This led to a dire situation where he was at risk of dying in his shell, as a dragon’s egg needs infusions of love and magic in order to be viable. In offering up much of himself—including a chunk of his own lifespan—Lilia helped Malleus hatch. To Lilia, this was his happiest—not because he “loves” Malleus more than Silver, but because Malleus hatching as a result of Lilia’s magic is affirming to Lilia that he is capable of parental love. This was a concern he communicated to Meleanor before she parted from this world, that he wasn’t sure he could look after Malleus in her stead because he’s an orphan and has never experienced what it is like to be loved… so he can’t have the capacity to love either. Meleanor reassures him though! If Lilia can love her and Raverne, then surely he can also bring himself to love their child. All these years, Lilia has never thought himself capable of “true love”—not even when he finds an infant Silver later, abandoned in a briar covered castle. But in that moment, when Malleus hatched, a miracle happened, and that miracle was the result of Lilia’s love.

This brings me to one final point about Lilia and Malleus’s relationship: how self-sacrificial Lilia is. Lilia hides a LOT of information from his loved ones, including Silver and Sebek, and instead chooses to accept the emotional burden of knowing himself. He does it with good intention, not wanting his children to be hurt by the scars of the past, but in a way that closes the boys off from fully understanding where they come from and Lilia’s own emotions. This is behavior that continues into present day, including Lilia being in a rush to leave to spare his boys the pain of a prolonged farewell. (I talk more about this aspect of Lilia’s character here, so I would advise reading that if you are interested in this topic.)

To conclude, Malleus and Lilia both highly respect and care for one another. Their bond is a strong one, and that’s perhaps why Malleus is so determined to cling to it—Lilia is one of the few intimate and meaningful connections he has.

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k0yaz · 2 months

Text

drink from me.

Pairings: shenhe x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, vampire au, vamp shenhe yayay, mentions of violence, blood obviously, men, reader being scared at first because she’s a PUSSY, GIRLS LIKING GIRLS OH NO, she walks in on reader changing like once but it’s not meant to be weird you absolute freaks, I USE THE WORD TITS OMG SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE??? Reader kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 (not really), bloodsucking yummy, lowkey cringe wee woo wee woo jk I don’t give a fuck if it’s cringe, not proofread

A/N: YAYAYAYSYS VAMPIRE AU YAY I had to down two bottles of tea while writing this one ngl I wasn’t feeling as creative but I might write a part 2 for this who knows 🕯️

Wallowing in the swift rushes of wind grazing your unconscious body, your knocked out self remained perplexed as to what was occurring within your surroundings while your current view was pitch black. All you felt was a set of calloused hands situated firmly below your back, and your curled up form pressed against someone’s chest.

A couple moments ago, a stream of agonized, low cries erupted from several individuals circling you, that being the only thing you heard once your vision went dark. Likely, it was the screams of the armed circle of men who had backed you up into the woods, actively targeting you. Your hands had scrabbled backwards desperately against the dried leaves, palms stinging from the light scratches from the crunching leaves.

The mist clouding both your vision and cloaking your perpetrators into a menacing silhouette only served to heighten the sense of helpless dismay fogging your mind. You choked out a sudden weak hiccup as your back abruptly bumped against the rugged wood of a large oak tree towering above you, leaving you at a dead end. It all seemed to flicker out of view as what seemed like a cold steel rod collided against the side of your head, causing your body to rock slightly before collapsing onto your side.

Thin trickles of blood ran down the corner of your ear, occasionally rolling down your cheek to the ground to stain the dried leaves a bright red. You knew you were finished. They were going to kill you. You were knocked out already left with your final thoughts of turmoil, while the crunching of one of the men’s footsteps grew louder and louder, indicating he was getting closer. Suddenly, the crunching came to a halt, a shriek now piercing your bloodied ears, along with a swift splatter noise following it.

Your unmoving, curled up body remained buried in leaves as the string of shrieks followed by splatters rang in your ears. Despite being unconscious, you didn’t know what was here, yet your gut wrenched at the gnawing feeling that this unknown savior was coming for you next. Instead, you felt yourself elevated off of the rough earth, this person’s arms not being softer, yet making you feel a bit more at ease in their arms clutching your form.

The cold wails of the breeze fluttered against your skin, rigid goosebumps blooming onto your skin as your body shivered from the stinging cold. Slowly, you began to regain faint traces of consciousness, eyes slightly squinted as you briefly opened them. Your body jerked upon opening your eyes, your vision clearing up to reveal a woman with ice white hair staring off into the distance with a stern gaze plastered onto her rested face, pale pupils fixated ahead of her as you noticed that you were moving abnormally quick along with her while situated in her arms.

She didn’t seem to react at your minute movements as you jerked in her arms upon regaining consciousness. You winced as you felt her fingers tighten into your back, strengthening her grip when she realized that you were awake.

“Don’t let go. Hold onto me.” She commanded, her sharp voice making you flinch and comply with her while she still avoided looking over at you. The feeling that she wasn’t normal racked your body with a shiver, eyes trailing her figure as your arms tightened around her neck, cold fingers tracing along her nape and making her sigh. Her nails seemed to rake along your clothed back in thin motions while she held you. Abnormal speed, pale skin, and sharp nails? Not to mention the intricately suited clothing fitted onto her body? Yeah. She wasn’t human.

There wasn’t any time to worry about things like that though. Once you had recovered completely, you planned to thank her for saving your life. A large, dark architecture filled your sight as her pace quickened, dim golden rays adding a barely visible glow to the windows inside. The woman halted before the lavish mansion, her gaze darting down to you so rapidly that it was strangely uncanny. You only blinked in confusion as the doors seemed to part themselves for her, your mind flooding with a flurry of questions as to if you were dreaming or not.

However, when she opened her feverish lips to breathe out a relaxed sigh, your train of thought was suddenly pushed back upon catching a quick glimpse of a strangely sharp set of fangs adorning the corners of her teeth.

“Can you stand?” The woman inquired, iridescent eyes transfixed onto you. It was quite intimidating to be honest—mixed with the revelation that she was possibly a blood sucking vampire on the verge of devouring you, caused your stomach to drop in fear of what she could’ve possibly brought you here for. “I…I think I can.” You muttered out in a shaky voice, stumbling over your words out cautiously.

Lowering yourself onto your feet, your statement proved to be wrong as your wobbly legs buckled inward. The woman reached over and almost immediately caught you, arm snaked around your waist before you could topple against the glossed marble floors. You exhaled a relived huff as your face was in line with the hard surface, cringing at the thought of your skull cracking against the marble. Her fingers laced into your hair as she heaved a sigh, brushing a few stray strands out of your face. She effortlessly hitched up your body into her arms, curling them around your waist to keep a hold of you from slipping as she carried headed toward the stairs.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a maid carrying a tray beholding a small cup and a bowl, before she set it down on the table and headed over to the two of you. She backed up slightly, seemingly out of respect before lowering her head.

“Miss Shenhe, is there anything else you need?”

Huh. That was a pretty name for someone who might murder you later.

Shenhe shook her head, before replying. “We do have a fresh spare room, right?” The maid simply nodded, raising her chin to gesture towards a spruce door on the right of the second floor. “Thank you. I’ll call you back if I need anything.”

Once Shenhe had carefully stepped along the polished stairs with you situated in her arms, she leaned over against the door, pushing it open with her shoulder while still holding you. Your eyes widened in awe at the opulent decor of the spare room, scanning the dim lighting from the chandelier hung by a short chain branched from the ceiling, and the gold and porcelain decorations stacked atop various shelves and tables.

Your back pressed against the fleece silk of the pure white bedsheets, eyes nearly fluttering shut at how your body sunk into the soft blankets. Shenhe looked you up and down, her expression still calm and unfeeling as she attempted to affirm that you were comfortable.

“Make yourself comfortable. You can go ahead and get out of your dirty clothing, I’ll go and fetch you some fresh clothing.”

Letting out a small “mhm,” you apprensively continued to track Shenhe, making sure she left the room. Once she shut the door behind her, you heaved a long breath which you felt like you’d been holding in for ages, your constricted chest and tense muscles seemed to relax when she left. You don’t understand why you’re so cautious of her. Sure, she may be a vampire, but she had saved your life. On top of that, giving you a room without you asking was awfully kind of her. Perhaps you should ease up a bit around her.

You hunched one shoulder up, leaning your cheek against it as you began to slide down your soaked and bloody clothing. Before you could reach over for a towel after completely stripping down, the door swung open, smacking the wall with a large thud and revealing Shenhe holding a set of neatly folded black robes in her hands. Almost immediately, you gripped the edge of the blanket, throwing it over your exposed self, while your hand instinctively covered your chest as your face was flushed bright red from embarrassment.

“Can you knock?! And how did you get here so fast?”

Shenhe simply shrugged and set the robes down on the bedside table, turning her back to you and proceeding to walk out. For a moment, her hand rested on the side of the door quietly as the clock’s ticking reverbated through the room, cutting through the silence.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, before shutting the door behind her. It was as if she didn’t mean it, but just wanted to be polite, considering that she took into account that humans weren’t a huge fan of being seen nude. You sighed out In slight guilt, hearing the door creak as it clicked shut. She was treating you so kindly, yet here you were yelling at her for something as trivial as almost seeing your tits. Reaching over, you proceeded to slip on the silk robes, allowing the left end to hang off your shoulder loosely and expose it.

You admired the craftsmanship and comfort of the silk covering your body as you struck various poses into the gold rimmed mirror, praying nobody would walk on you doing the most embarrassing shit known to humankind. After a couple moments of admiring yourself, you headed over to the bed, flopping down and allowing the plush mattress to engulf your outstretched frame. Thin transparent curtains cascaded down either side of the bed, and blocking out the already dim light shining from the lamp and chandelier. The cloud like softness of the bed made you instantly relax, feeling like royalty as comfort and ease flooded your senses.

All of a sudden, a brisk knock tapped at your door, making you jolt and sit up straight—albeit a bit sluggishly considering that you were practically sinking into the mattress. You groggily wavered back onto your bare feet, opening the door hesitantly to peek out through the small gap.

“Shenhe?”

“May I come in?”

Wow. She really decided to listen to your last harsh comment about her knocking.

You nodded, extending a hand to gesture her to come in. She gratefully slipped inside, looking over at your bed and then back to window before your bed, revealing the crowning rays of sunlight beginning to rise, indicating it was nearly morning. Strangely enough, Shenhe seemed to repel away from the sun rays, snapping her head to the side swiftly. She carefully walked over and tugged the curtains shut, her already pale skin fostering an almost sickly white hue when she caught a glimpse of the bright sun.

“Are you alright..?” You asked with your head slightly cocked to the side, clearly attempting to make up for being so defensively rude earlier. Shenhe nodded, composing herself and standing upright, before situating herself beside you in the bed. “I’m fine. Just slightly parched.” She hummed, those pale pupils of hers still seeming to not show any signs of vulnerability and still sharp.

And just like that, you felt a twinge of unease and discomfort, knowing fully well she was referring to blood. You subtly retracted your arm from her, trying to push back the annoying vexations of your human instinct. Shenhe suddenly interrupted your little internal turmoil, breaking the uncomfortable silence with her voice.

“I might just go find a blood bag in the wild, it’s nothing of concern.”

You couldn’t help but feel your apprehension replace with guilt at your stereotypical assumptions of her. She had just saved you and provided you with a place to stay for a bit, while also trying to be polite, yet here you were assuming things about her just cause of the fact that she was a vampire.

“…do you want to drink from me?”

She paused, looking at you with a puzzled expression.

“Wouldn’t that hurt for you?”

“Yeah but it’s not unbearable I hope. Plus I want a way to repay you for saving me back there.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You rolled up the sleeve of your robe until the cloth bundled up to your elbow, before sticking your arm out toward her, wrist facing up. “If you insist.” Shenhe rasped out, her throat probably dry from her thirst. Gently taking a hold of your hand, she wrapped her fingers around the space below your elbow to keep your robe sleeve from sliding back down, flipping your hand over so that your palm was face down. She lowered her head to your knuckles, a surge of different emotions building up inside you as her breath fanned over your skin.

You sucked in a breath upon feeling the initial sting of her fangs prodding at your forearm, biting back a pained gasp as you felt them bury within your skin. You continued to stare down with a couple labored breaths as she lapped at the occasional blood trickling down your wrist. Surprisingly, the way she was drinking your blood didn’t seem as painful as you thought, and you let out a sigh as her expression seemed much more relaxed with each sip of your blood.

A sudden lightheaded ache washed over you once Shenhe pulled away, grabbing the bandages conveniently situated on your bedside table to aid your wrist.

“Thank you.” She whispered, guiding you against the mattress as she raised a hand to caress your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered lower at her tender touch grazing your skin, tilting your head against the fluffy pillows. She rose to her feet suddenly, heading out as the door creaked behind her upon closing.

You sank back as silence enveloped the room once more, eyes closing peacefully as you barely felt any lingering pain in your wrist by now.

Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS WAS LONG anyway wawawawawawa NO THIS ISNT A SESBIAN LEX FIC YOU FREAKY PEOPLE. Jk love yall

Yay :3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin writing #genshin shenhe #shenhe #shenhe x reader #genshin impact shenhe #genshin impact shenhe x reader #vampire au #genshin impact vampire au #shenhe genshin impact #genshin wlw #wlw

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goryhorroor · 8 months

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Upcoming horror movies (some without release years) - not in order

Longlogs - FBI Agent Lee Harker is assigned to an unsolved serial killer case that takes an unexpected turn, revealing evidence of the occult. Harker discovers a personal connection to the killer and must stop him before he strikes again.

Nosferatu - A gothic tale of obsession between a haunted young woman and the terrifying vampire infatuated with her, causing untold horror in its wake.

Bermuda - Unknown details but it will be set in the mysterious patch of the Caribbean where planes and ships have gone missing over the years.

Twisters (ok thriller but imma count it because i can) - A sequel to the 1996 film about stormchasing scientists studying tornados.

Immaculate - Cecilia is warmly welcomed to the picture-perfect Italian countryside, where she is offered a new role at an illustrious convent. But it becomes clear to Cecilia that her new home harbors dark and horrifying secrets.

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire - The film centers on the Spengler family as they return to where it all started – the iconic New York City firehouse – to team up with the original Ghostbusters, who’ve developed a top-secret research lab to take busting ghosts to the next level. But when the discovery of an ancient artifact unleashes an evil force, Ghostbusters new and old must join forces to protect their home and save the world from a second Ice Age.

Mickey's Mouse Trap - follows a group of friends who become targets of a serial killer dressed as Mickey Mouse

Imaginary - When Jessica moves back into her childhood home with her family, her youngest stepdaughter Alice develops an eerie attachment to a stuffed bear named Chauncey she finds in the basement. Alice's games with Chauncey become increasingly sinister, and Jessica intervenes only to realize Chauncey is much more than the stuffed toy bear she believed him to be.

Skeletons in the Closet - Haunted by a malevolent spirit since childhood, a desperate mother allows herself to become possessed in order to save the life of her terminally ill daughter.

Lisa Frankenstein - love story about a misunderstood teenager and her high school crush, who happens to be a handsome corpse. After a set of playfully horrific circumstances bring him back to life, the two embark on a murderous journey to find love, happiness… and a few missing body parts along the way.

Winnie The Pooh: Blood & Honey 2 - oh yay? I guess a sequel

Adrift - It is described as a supernatural ghost story set aboard a ship. It is an adaptation of a short story by Koji Suzuki

Dustbunny - It follows a young girl who asks her neighbor to help her kill a monster under her bed after she thinks it has eaten her family.

Faces of Death - follows a woman who discovers violent videos that recreate death scenes from movies online.

Heretic - two religious women who become the focus of a strange man's games.

History of Evil - In the near future, war and corruption have plagued America and turned it into a theocratic police state. Against the oppression, ordinary citizens have formed a group called The Resistance. One such member, Alegre Dyer, breaks out of political prison and reunites with her husband Ron and daughter Daria. On the run from the militia, the family takes shelter in a remote safe house. But their journey is far from over, as the house’s dark past begins to eat away at Ron, and his earnest desire to keep his family safe is overtaken by something much more sinister.

MaXXXine - Six years after the ‘Texas Pornhouse Massacre’, Maxine is now LA-based and on a driven quest to become a star in the acting world. But things take a sinister turn when bodies once again begin to fall around her.

Dracula - A futuristic sci-fi western version of Dracula.

Apartment 7A - Prequel to the 1968 film Rosemary’s Baby.

Baghead - follows a young woman who inherits a run-down pub and discovers a dark secret within its basement. Enter Baghead - a shape-shifting creature that will let you speak to lost loved ones, but not without consequence.

Out of Darkness - In the Old Stone Age, a disparate gang of early humans band together in search of a new land. But when they suspect a malevolent, mystical, being is hunting them down, the clan are forced to confront a danger they never envisaged.

Stopmotion - stop-motion animator by the name of Ella whose latest project might just be driving her to the brink of madness.

Late Night with the Devil - 1970s talk show host Jack Delroy on his last legs, wrung out by personal tragedy and in need of a ratings win. His plan to feature as a guest a young girl who is allegedly possessed seems like a Halloween night layup… until the cameras roll and all hell literally breaks loose.

You'll Never Find Me - An isolated man living at the back of a desolate caravan park is visited by a desperate young woman seeking shelter from a violent storm. As the savage storm worsens, these solitary souls begin to feel threatened – but who should really be afraid?

The First Omen - When a young American woman is sent to Rome to begin a life of service to the church, she encounters a darkness that causes her to question her own faith and uncovers a terrifying conspiracy that hopes to bring about the birth of evil incarnate. (this might be a prequel to the omen)

Abigail - After a group of would-be criminals kidnap the 12-year-old ballerina daughter of a powerful underworld figure, all they have to do to collect a $50 million ransom is watch the girl overnight. In an isolated mansion, the captors start to dwindle, one by one, and they discover, to their mounting horror, that they’re locked inside with no normal little girl.

Return to Silent Hill - James, a man broken after being separated from his one true love. When a mysterious letter calls him back to Silent Hill in search of her, he finds a once-recognizable town transformed by an unknown evil. As James descends deeper into the darkness, he encounters terrifying figures both familiar and new and begins to question his own sanity as he struggles to make sense of reality and hold on long enough to save his lost love.

Infested - invasion of venomous spiders, forcing residents of a suburban building to find a way out.

Tarot - Tarot follows a group of friends who recklessly violate the sacred rule of Tarot readings – never use someone else’s deck. In the wake of broken rules, consequences follow, this time in the form of unleashing an unspeakable evil trapped within the cursed cards.

The Strangers Chapter 1 - a couple, have to survive the night while being terrorized by masked strangers in a remote Airbnb in Oregon

The Watchers - the film follows a young woman who becomes trapped with three strangers in a shelter deep within a forest in Ireland where the group must fight off mysterious creatures every night in order to survive.

Never Let Go - a family who has been tormented by an evil spirit for years as their lives become more dangerous when one of the kids questions if the evil is real.

The One - Follows character Taylor as she becomes a contestant on a reality TV dating show to find love. Taylor's experience takes a turn as she gets down to the final three and becomes terrified of not finding love (with a horror twist)

Thread: An Insidious Tale - new actors who play a husband and wife who use a spell to travel back in time to prevent their daughter's death, which has worse consequences than imagined

Weapons - The movie is about the disappearance of high school students in a small town, similar to the movie Magonlia's from 1999

A Quiet Place: Day One - New characters in New York

Alien: Romulus - takes place between the first & second movies

Beetlejuice 2 - not much is known about the plot details, but Beetlejuice will have a wife & Lydia's daughter will be in it

Speak No Evil: this is the English remake (all it really says; but it's just the 2022 movie but English?)

Smile 2 - it's a sequel but no details have been revealed

Terrifer 3 - not too many details revealed but it will take place on Christmas Eve

Wolfman - not too many details revealed but it's a new take on the werewolf tale

I Saw The TV Glow - Teenager Owen is just trying to make it through life in the suburbs when his classmate introduces him to a mysterious late-night TV show — a vision of a supernatural world beneath their own. In the pale glow of the television, Owen’s view of reality begins to crack.

Don't Move - A seasoned killer injects a grieving woman with a paralytic agent and she must run, fight and hide before her body completely shuts down.

Arcadian - Nicolas Cage comes back to save the day - and his children - from ferocious creatures at their remote farmhouse.

All My Friends Are Dead - College friends? Remote Airbnb? A secret murderer? What could go wrong in this classic toxic friend group killing spree? Looking forward to attending the biggest music fest of the year, this group of friends get together for what should be a killer weekend.

Monolith - It is about a disgraced journalist who investigates a conspiracy theory while trying to salvage her career.

some movies coming out maybe not this year but have been floating around: The Toxic Avenger (I think remake), Witchboard (remake), Year 2 (about werewolves), Shelby Oaks (A woman's desperate search for her long-lost sister falls into obsession upon realizing that the imaginary demon from their childhood may have been real), Salem's Lot (remake), Little Bites ('70s-set monster movie that highlights the lengths a parent will go to protect a child), The Crow (Reboot), Jordan Peele's untitled movie, I've also seen there's going to be another Saw (but it hasn't been confirmed), and another Scream (but that production is already a trainwreck so who knows)

#horror #horror movies #horror cinema #dracula #the crow #terrifier 3 #saw #scream #alien #beetlejuice 2 #smile 2

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