#✧ — ⋆ He was made of sunlight. IC. The Wanderer

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere Genshin Men With An Escaped Darling

Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Pierro, Sethos, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli (all separate)

This took me so much longer than what I have planned. I had much fun writing this:) if you have any yandere scenario requests feel free to send me an ask<3 (I most likely won’t include every single character). (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, murder, imprisonment, manipulation, drugging, female reader

Word count: 9664

Albedo

The icy wind whipped against your cheeks. Snow clouded your vision. The tree branches waved in the wind and grasped at your clothes. You hissed as a thorn ripped your fabric, causing you to bleed.

As you ran down the mountain you glanced over your shoulder at every given moment.

A clearing caught your eye. Finally you could breathe out. You leans against a large tree. You needed to cover your wound. You rummaged through your pockets and to your joy you found a small scarf. The thin woven scarf was gifted to you by Klee, Albedo’s younger sister. The little girl was so proud when she gave you the scarf and wanted you to wear it all the time. Sadness filled your being at the thought of ruining the pink scarf, but your arm was more important. You bound your wound tightly with the scarf. One of the things he had thought you.

“I told you to stay inside the cabin” his voice echoed.

You froze. You prayed to the archons that it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

“This mountain is dangerous. You have no way of defending yourself” his voice soft.

You turned your head. Your eyes met his ice blue ones. They were cold, just like the icy mountain.

“Let’s go home” he walked towards you with quick steps. His arms wrapped around you and he kissed your forehead. “You are better off home, with me. I will keep you safe” his arms tightened around your form.

Alhaitham

The scribe had given you freedom. Which allowed you to freely roam the Akademiya. While Alhaitham was preoccupied in his office, you explored the university. Within a couple of months you had made friends with a couple of the students. You never told them you situation with the grey haired scholar, but they all knew that you lived together.

You had spent a lot of time plotting your escape. After all escaping the scribe was no easy task. The House of Daena was empty and quiet. The small bag you had hoisted over your shoulder filled with only the necessities. Your hands was shaking as you pushed down the door handle to a back door. The sunlight blinded you as the door opened.

You hurried down the path from the Akademiya. Your flats clicking against the cobblestone. You had to get out from Sumeru City and seek refuge in a remote town. It was risk, sure, but it was your only hope.

After an hour or so you had made your way to a small village on the outskirts of the capital. It wasn’t the ideal place, but it was your only option for the night. You was so kindly offered the spare bed by a lovely elderly woman. She didn’t ask why you looked over your shoulder every minute and that you were thankful for.

You packed your things and thanked the older woman for her kindness and went on your way.

After hours on the road your legs felt like jelly. You stopped by a abandoned house and rested on the little bench by the overgrown vegetable garden.

You woke up by the sounds of footsteps coming your way. A shadow blocked the sun.

“I must say you have slightly developed, but unfortunately you are still as predictable as ever” Alhaitham shook his head. “The elderly woman you slept at told me everything as soon as I explained the situation” his lips widened into a grin. “She thanked my for looking after such a helpless woman such as yourself.”

Strong arms picked you up and held you tight against his strong chest. “Let’s go home”.

Ayato

Ayato was a sly man. With his white clothing he looked like an angel, but that was far from the truth. You had many times heard him command the Shuumatsuban to get rid of the clan’s enemies. You knew the katana that rested by his hip when he was out on public duties, had slaughtered many.

You were afraid. Not only by him in himself, but afraid of his power and actions. That’s why you climbed over the tall walls that shielded the Kamisato residence from the outside world. Your ankles buckled under you as you landed and you whimpered out in pain. After you had collected yourself, you made a run for it. The ninja’s that were stationed around the estate had without doubt already spotted you. You hoped that they went to report to Ayato instead of chasing you down.

The way down to the beach was rocky and dangerous. Like a wild goat you quickly made your way down thanks to the adrenaline that pumped through your veins. The old rowboat was in the same stop just as you had recalled from an evening stroll with Ayaka along the beach. To your luck the two paddles were still there. You pushed the boat with all your might to the shore. The saltwater cold against your bare feet.

The swish of an arrow stopped you in your tracks. You looked down and saw it sticking out from the side of the boat. The hole was not that big, but it would cause your boat to leak in enough water for it to sink before you had made it to safety.

“Seize her!” a Shuumatsuban with high standing ordered.

A man with his face covered dragged you away from your boat and bound your wrists behind your back.

When you looked up at the cliff you saw Ayato looking down at you. He made his way down slowly and dread filled your veins.

He stopped in front of you and lifted your chin with a finger. “Did you have fun?” he leaned his face closer, his breath fanning your face. “Do not forget that I have eyes and ears everywhere”.

“Now let’s get you home. I will make sure you won’t slip through my fingers again. Though I must say your little attempt humoured me”

Baizhu

Tricking the little zombie girl made you feel horrible, but it was your only ticket to freedom. The green haired doctor had feed you herbs that made you weak and depended on his care. You had seen the label on the little bottle containing the medicine. So when he was out researching some herbs, you went through all the medical books he had in his libraries in search of the antidote. After much time and countless books you finally figured out the antidote.

You talked to Qiqi alone when Baizhu was busy treating a patient. You explained that he needed some herbs and told her that she had to deliver them to you and not her guardian. After some convincing she agreed. You crossed your fingers that she would remember and not slip up.

To your joy Qiqi had indeed remembered. The herbs tasted awful, but it was a small price to pay. It didn’t take long before you felt the medicine Baizhu had given you wear of. When he came to check up on you, you pretended that you were still weak. You asked him to go get some more medicine and he did as you said. When the green haired man left, you quickly tried to pry the window open. It was slightly jammed, but with your new strength you managed. Finally you had escaped the snake’s nest.

Your feet moved fast as you ran down the many stairs. You had to turn Baizhu to the authorities for his crimes. Just as you had made it down the stairs you bumped into someone. You didn’t need to look up to understand who it was.

“You will catch a cold running around like that” his voice cold as ice. His fingers lifted up your chin. “Tricking Qiqi really was a low move. That poor child was absolutely devastated to come home to an empty house. As for me I must say I am deeply disappointed. I have made it very clear that you will not manage without me.”

His lips curled up into a soft smile. “Let’s go home my darling. I will make some tea.”

Capitano

The first Harbinger was worshipped throughout the whole snowy nation. His underlings held great respect for him. He could be cruel and bloodthirsty, but to you he had a soft spot for.

Boots hammered against the ice ground. You knew you wouldn’t be able to run away from them, but you would not give up so easily.

As you made your way through the thick pine forest you started to regret your decision, but it was too late. As you came to the end of the forest you were surrounded by soldiers. Their spears raised towards you, stopping you in your tracks.

The sound of hooves reached your ears. The soldiers parted and bowed deep. On a tall black horse sat Capitano. Even with his face hidden by his black helmet, you could feel his intense gaze.

The stallion came to a halt and his rider dismounted. The snow crunched underneath his heels as he made his way towards you. His height towering over your trembling form. “You are all dismissed” he barked out. The soldiers bowed before they marched down the hill.

He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. The ice cold wind howling against the tree tops. The dark haired man finally spoke “You broke my trust. Criminals deserve to be punished.”

With a swift motion he threw you over his shoulder and held you in place with his arm. He mounted his horse and squeezed his heels against the animal’s flank.

The Harbinger’s hold on you was tight and as suffocating as his presence. As you watched the landscape blur together you realised that you would never escape him.

Childe

The sound of children’s laughter could be heard in the distance. The small fishing village Ajax’s family resides in was remote. The river that ran across it ice cold and filled to the brim with fish. You crept as quickly as you could between the trees that surround the village. To your dismay Childe’s childhood home was just by the border which meant that the red head knew the woods like the back of his hand.

You winced as you heard Teucer calling out for his brother. The little child had noticed your disappearance.

You picked up your speed and ran as fast as your legs could carry you. It was difficult with the heavy snow, but you had to keep going.

A flash of red stopped you in your tracks. You quickly hid behind a rock and held your breath.

“It’s not nice to run away” a chirpy voice said. Childe.

Of course he found you. It was only a matter of time. His soft laughter rang throughout the woods. He was close. Too close.

Suddenly he jumped onto the rock you had hidden behind. You yelped and backed away. He grinned as he looked down on you. His eyes wide and crazed. “If you wanted to play hide and seek why didn’t you just say so?” he laughed. His laughter chilling.

He jumped down and landed just a few centimetres from your legs. He bent down and dragged you to your feet. “Teucer, Tonia and Anthon are all waiting for you back home. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them would you?” he tilted his head and faked a sad expression.

He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. “When we get home after our visit here, I will never let you leave my side. Is that understood?” his voice low. He chuckled as he pulled back to study your expression. “That frightened look of yours is really something. Makes me wanna eat you up” he kissed your cheek. “Don’t make me lose my cool, okay?”

Cyno

The sun was bright and high. The heat was unbearable and you regretted not seeking shade. The sand danced across the dune as the wind gave you some mercy from the heat.

In front off you on the scorching sand laid the lifeless bodies of the eremites that had helped you with your escape from the general. Blood coloured the sand red and the ruins surrounding you were splattered in red. The metallic sand made you dizzy.

Cyno stood before the bodies with his back turned to you. His white hair was coated in red. His strong muscles made him look like a god as he stood there with his bloodied spear. He turned to you. His face blank.

“I am sorry you had to see that” his expression apologetic.

He planted the spear in the ground and walked towards you slowly like he was afraid of scaring you. He squatted down so that he was on your eye level. You pulled your legs towards you as much as you could.

“Why did you run away?”

You only stared at him with big eyes. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His head piece long discarded. “The desert is a dangerous place. You have no idea how scared I was when I noticed your disappearance” his eyes sad. “When I saw you among those eremites… I have never felt such anger. I had no choice but to eliminate them. Those who try to take you away from me deserves punishment. I did the right thing with ridding the world of such people” his hands was trembling in anger.

“I will make sure no one tries to take you away from me again. I will always be by your side” he kissed your tears away with a soft smile.

Dainsleif

Dainsleif had long lost his sanity. At least when it came to you. That much was clear.

You had just managed to escape him while he slept. The ruin you had chosen for your resting place for the night was eerie quite. Even the monsters were gone. You would have found it weird had you not been on the run. You manoeuvred through the dark ruins as fast as you could. After a while you made it out.

Your relived expression fell as you took in your surroundings. The monsters you had disappeared were now standing in front of you. You slowly backed away as you thought up an escaped plan. Just as you were about to make a run for it, dark blue power lit up the area in front of you. With movements faster then what your eyes could see, the monsters were slain.

The blond traveler looked at you with a look that sent shivers down your spine. He flicked off the blood that coated his blade as he made his way towards you.

“I expected more from you. To believe you so ignorantly took the bait is truly disappointing” he shook his head. “But on the plus side, I have now proved to you that you will never make it without me. Let me be your protector. Let me take care of you” he kneeled in front of you as he took your small hand in his and kissed it gently.

You could only cry silent as the Twilight Sword led you inside the ruins. Dainsleif was a man of his word and you knew very well that he would never break his promise to himself.

Diluc

The winery was a beautiful place. When you first arrived you thought it looked like something straight out from a fairytale. You could not be more wrong as you soon learned.

Diluc was a desperate man. He had tricked himself into believing he was your saviour and he would do anything in order to protect you. If he had to kill someone in order to do so he would not bat an eye.

You had escaped through the cellar door and out the cellar window. You had been unsure if you fitted through the window, but to your surprise you fitted like a glove. The moon casted a pale light against the manor and it made you pause in your steps by its beauty.

The stables were empty just as you had expected. You tacked up the chestnut mare Diluc had gifted you. You kissed her forehead as you collected yourself. He would come after you.

As the mare galloped through the dense forest you could hear the distant shouts from Diluc. You gritted your teeth as you made your horse run faster.

Just as you thought you had made it, you heard the dreaded screams of his hawk. You had lost.

Your eyes were heavy as you slowly gained consciousness. You were tied to the desk chair inside his bedroom. Your bindings was of the finest red silk. You shivered at the similarities between you and a neatly wrapped present. In front of you were a highly distressed red haired man. He was walking back and forth, muttering something to himself.

“How could I be so careless as to not look better after her… I am a fool” he hissed to himself.

After a few minutes he stopped and turned to you. His expression softened as he cupped your face. “I apologise for the bindings, but it is necessary. You could be hurt you know?” his voice soft, but serious. “I will never let any harm happen to you. Ever.”

Dottore

The doctor’s blood red eyes always sent shivers down your spine. Even though he was human, he seemed like anything but. His embraces felt like a cage and his sweet words like poison. It didn’t take you long to understand why he was the most feared man in the entirety of Teyvat.

Dottore held you within his estate and refused to let you leave. Heavily armed guards guarded your chambers. You had tried to convince them to let you go and the next day you were delivered their served head on a platter. Dottore was cruel that much was obvious.

You knew you could never outsmart Dottore. He was one of the smartest beings on the plant and he never pretended not to be. If you couldn’t trick Dottore, you would trick the servants.

The long hallways in Dottore’s mansion were dark and empty. You sneaked through the manor as quietly as possible. With the key you had stolen clutched in your hand you made your way to the garden door. You twisted the key in the keyhole and pushed the door open. Cold air filled your lungs. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the snow filled landscape.

Your freedom was however short lived.

“If you take a step outside of that door I will behead this woman” a deep voice reached your ears.

You froze and slowly turned. There in the doorway stood the Harbinger. His raven-like mask were nowhere to be found. His hand was wrapped around the neck of the maid who you had stolen the key from. Her face was filled with fear and she looked at you pleadingly.

As much as you longed for freedom, you could not bear to have the blood from someone else on your hands. You walked back in and locked the door with a lowered head. You placed the key in Dottore’s waiting hand.

He slipped the key onto his pocket with a smile. “Good girl.”

“However…. I cannot let such an action go unpunished” he tck-ed. He threw the maid across the room. Her back hit the wall with a loud thud.

“I have given you all a specific rule you all must follow. I have made what would happen if you would ever break it quite clear, have I not?” his voice as cold as the unforgiving landscape that surrounded the estate. The maid muttered a “yes lord Harbinger”.

The blue haired man scoffed and turned to you. “I suppose I should teach you a lesson” his eyes held nothing but cold determination.

With three long strides he stopped in front of the maid. Her eyes filled with horror. He pulled out a sharp and sleek scalpel and slight her throat in a precise motion. “You deserve much more suffering, but I don’t want me darling to be witness to that so this would have to do” he sneered at the maid as she gurgled on her own blood.

He threw the scalpel and wiped his hands on his pants. “Let’s get you back to your chambers shall we.”

He snaked his arm around your waist and led you out of the hallway. “I trust that you will stop your escape attempts and accept that you belong here with me” his voice smooth like honey.

Gorou

The general of the resistance was a generous man. He always looked after his soldiers and treated them with respect and you were no different. He loved you with his entire being, that much was certain.

He never brought you to the frontlines. You were to stay at the base with a few trusted soldiers that looked after you. They all knew about your situation, but no one cared. They all were just glad that the general had someone who brought him comfort through the tough times.

As the soldiers exchanged posts you were able to sneak out of the cabin. You did not get far before a certain brunette had tracked you down.

His big cerulean eyes wide as his whole body tensed. “Why are you out here?” his big eyes not blinking once. His ears alert.

“You didn’t try to leave right? It must be something else? Right?” his voice raised. His fangs visible as he sneered.

He gripped your hand tightly as he dragged you back to the camp. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I need to keep you safe” he looked at you with a sad expression as he hurried back to the camp.

The hybrid had always been extremely overprotective to the point it suffocated you. He always told he did what he did for your own good.

The next nights he held you tightly in his arms as he slept. His fluffy tail wrapping around your leg in a protective manner.

Heizou

The detective had locked you up in his own home, claiming it was a way to protect you. Every door and every window (and some drawers) had complicated locks on. Only a few doors and drawers were unlocked.

Heizou was out on a detective job so you were left all alone. This was your chance to get out. You knew all to well that the detective most likely would track you down, but you could not let such an opportunity pass.

The puzzle that was the lock-mechanism on the front door seemed different. Heizou did have the habit of changing them so you didn’t think too much of it. The puzzle was tricky, but after a while you were able to figure it out. The door unlocked and you squealed in joy.

You hadn’t come far before someone wrapped their arms around your shoulders. “Boo” he whispered into your ears causing you to yelp.

“Aww… Did I scare you now?” his tone mocking. He leaned his entire body weight onto you causing you to stumble. He chuckled at your shuffling and poked your cheek. “I’m glad you passed my little test sweetheart” he purred.

You regained your senses and pushed him off. You glared at him as he laughed.

“You really are entertaining aren’t you? You thought that I would ever let you go… Now that’s just too funny!” he wiped his tears as he laughed.

“With your naivety, you are better of with me” he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. Your noses almost touching. He cupped your cheeks and smiled at you gently. “I will take care of you, darling.”

Itto

The brutish oni was really clingy and always felt the need to have you glued to his side. Getting alone time was nearly impossible, but you managed when he was out organising a onikabuto match.

While the white haired man was busy making posters with his gang, you snuck out of the house. Which was surprisingly easy when he wasn’t home. The city was lively and the lit lanterns flickering in the wind. Stars littering the clear night sky. You sneaked among the multiple food stalls. The smell of fried fish filling the air.

The sound of a booming laughter made your limbs freeze to the ground. You could recognise that laughter everywhere. You turned your head and your eyes widened in fear at your confirmed suspicion. Before a dessert stall stood Itto with Mamoru. “We gotta get something for the gang. You brought money right?” the oni nudged Mamoru who muttered a “yes boss”.

You quickly hid behind a small group of someone who stood before the boba shop. Luckily you where shorter than the group and you were able to stay hidden.

“Wait… Why does it smell like [Name]?”

“I don’t know boss. Isn’t she home?”

Your heartbeat hammered against your ribs. You carefully peaked through the group. Itto was sniffing in the air, the action almost comical, had it not been for your predicament. His closed eyes snapped open. His red slit eyes met yours. His body tense like a hunting dog. His expression filled with shock. “Doll?” he called out.

Your feet moved before you even registered it. You sprinted down the street. Your sandals clicking against the ground. You didn’t need to look back to know that Itto was right behind you.

You jumped down the railing and you were thankful that the jumps wasn’t too high as you landed on the soft grass. Just as you made it behind a small building, a big hand grabbed your arm. You lost your balanced and was pulled flushed against a broad chest.

“Why are you outside?” his voice eerily quiet. “I thought I made it clear that it’s dangerous, you are not a big strong oni. Humans are so fragile and weak” he pulled you into a tight hug. His face pressed against your soft hair. “You better listen to me next time… or I would have to tie you up” he pressed a kiss on top of your head followed by a soft “I love you”.

Kaeya

The Calvary Captain’s office was quite save from the sound of the captain’s pen scribbling. He hadn’t acknowledged you since he brought you inside his spacious office. His silence was scarier than his anger. He continued to write his report about some mission. The grandfather clock in the corner ticking.

After what felt like an eternity Kaeya looked up at you. He folded his hands and leaned his chin on them. His lone eye looking straight at you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You broke my trust did you not?” his honeyed voice terrifying. He tck-ed. “I am disappointed, but not surprised” he sighed. “I should punish you” he unfolded his hands and drummed two fingers across the rim of his empty glass.

“Why would I want to be locked up in some apartment?” you spat at the smug knight. His lips stretched up into a uncanny smile.

“Oh my…. You are more naive than what I gave you credit for” he chuckled. He stood up suddenly, causing the chair legs to scrap against the hardwood floor. He walked towards you like a stalking wolf. His eyes hungry and brimming with madness.

He stopped before you and leaned down on the arms of your chair. His face close to yours. Too close. His crystal blue eye scanned yours. You felt completely naked underneath his gaze. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know how you so foolishly conceived the knights guarding the house?” he laughed. His laughter sickening. “I dealt with them as soon as they reported back to me. It was a pain cleaning of the blood from my new boots, but some sacrifices must be made” he sighed.

He grasped your chin and leaned closer “I will never ever let you go.”

He straightened up. His expression lighthearted. “Now let’s get something to eat shall we?” he pulled you up with a tight grip. You looked down on his boots as he dragged you out of his office, noticing the few blood speckles he had missed.

Kaveh

The house Kaveh had constructed for you two was like a maze. With many corridors and doors, it was easy to get lost. He had built you both a home where he could play out his fantasy. He had kept you locked away in the mansion for months. Kaveh said it was to keep you safe and away from prying eyes.

You tried to force the window open for the 10th time, but to no avail. The window was still only a few centimetres open. Kaveh had proudly showed you the windows he had constructed that would not open more than a few centimetres. You had hoped that the design of the master architect had failed, but to your disappointment they had not.

Your eyes scanned the room till the landed on the doors to the winter garden. The glass were delicate and beautiful. You studied it closely till you came to the conclusion that they might be fragile enough to shatter. You picked up a stool that were standing in the corner. You lifted the furniture over your head and smashed the windows with all your might. The glass doors shattered into million pieces, looking like glittering diamonds. You dropped the stool and climbed through the window. You hissed as you cut yourself on the jagged pieces of glass that were still standing.

The winter garden was cozily decorated and it almost made you sad to leave it. The door out to the garden was locked which wasn’t a surprise. To your luck one of the miniature stone statues that resembled birds of all sizes, was perfect for shattering windows. It almost broke your heart at the thought of shattering the beautiful stained glass walls, but you had no choice. With all your might you managed to break it.

You ran as fast as you could through the garden. You had to find the exit before Kaveh came home from his meeting with his new client. As you were about to climb the tall fence that surrounded the property, a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down. You back hit the soft grass and straddling you were Kaveh. His eyes filled with betrayal and anger.

“How could you?!” his voice loud. His grip on your shoulders tightened. “After all that I have done for you?!” his features twisted into rage and hurt.

You tried to defend yourself, but your words died on you tongue. You had never seen Kaveh that angry. Fear filled you entire being and you felt sick. You casted a last look at the flush forest behind the fence. You knew that this would be your last time outside for a very long time.

Kazuha

With your breath ragged you ran through the dense forest. You had finally managed to escape the white haired samurai. You just needed to reach the beach and board one of the fishing boats that were docked at the dock.

You finally made it to the clearing that lead down to the beach. You waved at the fishermen and they turned to greet you. The dock was old and badly maintained. Splinters poking out and threatening to stab your feet. Just as you were about to ask the captain on the rather small boat, a gust of wind nearly knocked you down.

Red maple leaves fell gently down form the sky. The man in front of you moved quickly and elegantly. His movements like a dance, completely ensnaring you with his beauty. Crimson rain littered the air before it splattered your face. The warm liquid brought you quickly to your senses. Kazuha swiftly slashed his katana, slitting the throat of the captain. The red eyed man landed gently and wiped his blade with a handkerchief. The white fabric staining red in an instant.

He turned his gaze to you. His lips bore a gentle smile. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you. He lifted his hand and gently wiped the bloodstains of your skin. “What is my delicate flower doing here?” his voice soft.

You swallowed. You had yet to let you eyes wander to the slaughtered boat crew. Kazuha’s eyes scanned yours. His long eyelashes fluttered. Tears ran down your cheeks in crystal clear rivers. You shoved him away as hard as you could. He stumbled back, but you knew he held back his strength. He had let you push him. “Get away from me!” your voice weak and trembling. You choked out a cry as your fell down to the wooden floor. The wood was soaked with red blood. You let your eyes wander. You wanted to throw up at the sight of the dead boatmen.

“You know I can’t do that. Without me you’re lost. I need to protect you. You are the only light in my life and I know we will live happily ever after” his voice was pained and vulnerable. His calloused hands gripped your shoulders in desperation. “I am never going to let you leave me” his smile crazed and not fitting his saddened eyes.

He wrapped his arms around you in an embrace that reminded you of a cage. His face nestled into your soft hair. “I will make you happy, just you wait and see.”

Lyney

A swarm of cards flew over your face, momentarily blinding you. You ducked your head, but lost balance as something caught your leg. It was a makeshift snare made of multiple colourful handkerchiefs. Playful giggles reached your ears.

“The surprised look on your face is to die for! So adorable!” his voice gleeful.

You quickly got back on your feet and was about to make a run for it when Lyney tackled you. You landed with a groan, the cobblestone hard against your back. Lyney pinned your hands to the ground as he sat on top of your midriff. He grinned as he looked down on you.

“It’s no fun in you escaping you know?” he tilted his head. He kissed your nose before he jumped off you. “You could at least be a little more creative” he shook his head in faux disappointment.

“Asshole” you sneered at him.

His cat like eyes crinkled in amusement at your remark. “How rude” he snickered.

Just as sudden as he had jumped you, his expression changed. His eyes colder than ice and his mouth a thin line. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you after him.

He unlocked the house he, his siblings and you resided in. He quickly locked the door after him and dragged you into your bedroom. He let go of your hand. You quickly stumbled as far away from him as you could.

“Why can’t you let me have nice things? Why [Name]?” his eyes narrowed. It was in moments like this that you remembered his role in The Fatui. His eyes held a dangerous glint that dared you to cross him.

Your eyes widened in horror. “No, no, no… Please Lyney!” you begged. Tears trialing down your cheeks and pooling down onto the soft carpet.

“You gave me no choice. This is the consequences of your own actions” he shushed you as he clasped the chain onto your left ankle. He gently kissed your tears away. “It’s only temporary, okay?” he gently stroked your cheekbone. “I love you darling, don’t forget that.”

Neuvillette

Even though the judge bore aesthetically similarities with the sea otters that lived in the Fontanian waters, he was not like them at all. They were sweet playful creatures, and the judge a selfish cruel man. His good reputation made you sick. If only the citizens of Fontaine knew him like you did.

He had kept you hidden and locked up in his beautiful home. That was until you had managed to convince the Melusine that was in charge of looking after you that day. At first she refused to let you out, but when you told her that you were going to buy a present for Neuvillette she yielded. If it was under other circumstances you would have felt bad for tricking her.

The bustling streets of The Court of Fontaine a familiar sight. You breathed in the air. Oh how you had missed the smell of new baked goods and the music of street musicians.

You knew it would not take long before Neuvillette would notice your disappearance. You had to get out of the city and onto an aqua bus before he sent the Gardes after you.

You bought a ticket with the money you had managed to steal from Neuvillette. You quickly made it up the stairs to the aqua bus station. The aqua bus was just about to depart when a group of Gardes blocked the exit behind you. You leaped for the bus only to collide with a broad chest. You could recognise that scent no matter where in Teyvat you found yourself.

You slowly raised your head. Neuvillette looked down at you with a furious expression. You had only seen that expression when he had caught you chatting with other men (it didn’t matter to him that your conversation was only friendly and nothing more). His lilac eyes bored into yours, stripping your soul naked.

“I told you to never leave the residence” his voice low and lazed with anger.

His horns glowing light blue. His hands balled into fists by his sides, clearly trying to ground himself. You lowered your head.

“We are going back at once and you better not make any commotions” his hand turned you around and firmly guided you to the lift. One of the Gardes reached out his hand in order to size you properly. “Get your filthy hand away from her” Neuvillette’s voice boomed.

The Garde tried to defend himself but was cut short by Neuvillette. “Leave at once or you will regret it” his teeth bared. His sharp fangs fully visible. The Garde bowed and quickly left.

Neuvillette’s hand tightened its hold on your shoulder. “When we get home I demanded an explanation as to why you left your home” he whispered into your ear.

Pantalone

Pantalone was sitting on a expensive leather chair. His shoes polished in a way you could see your own reflection in the black leather. In his gloved hands was a black pistol with details in white gold.

In front of him on the cold polished hardwood floor knelt a man. His hands were bound behind his back. His eyes were looking pleadingly up at the Harbinger. He was a guard whom you had befriended. He had so kindly helped you escape before you both were caught red handed by the ninth Harbinger.

The black haired Harbinger turned his face towards you. “This is what he gets for taking what’s mine” his voice as smooth as velvet. His eyes dark and his smile cunning. He turned towards the bound man. “I must admit that I am a rather greedy man. I really hate when people try to take what’s mine” he sighed and clicked his tongue. He flicked the safety and pointed the pistol at the guards head.

“No!” you screamed as you desperately tried to get lose from your silk bindings.

Pantalone shushed you gently. “He asked for it my love” his voice sweet as sugar.

“Any last words?” he smiled. “Hmm… I don’t think you deserve any” he fired the pistol before the poor guard had the time to open his mouth. Pantalone’s smile stretched into a sickening grin. The man’s brain splatters onto the expansive rug.

You screamed as you tried to swallow the bile. “How could you?! You disgusting monster! I hate you!” you screamed while thick tears ran down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry my dear. He’s not worth shedding your lovely tears over” Pantalone kneeled in front of you. His eyes gentle. “I will make sure that no other men like that ever gets between us. You are mine and nothing will ever change that” his voice low.

Pierro

The sorcerer had forced you to your knees with his magic. You could feel the power tugging at your mind and it hurt. His pale eyes boring into yours. “Have you forgotten your place?” his gruff voice echoed inside the ballroom.

You glared up at him unable to do anything else. He kneeled before you and harshly lifted your chin. His expression harsher than the unforgiving climate outside. “I must say I’m utterly disappointed in your behaviour. You should be ashamed.”

You tried to get control over your limbs, but to no avail. Your words died on your tongue and you were unable to make any sound.

The white haired man scoffed and released his hold on you. His magic released you completely and you crawled backwards and away from him. Creating as much distance as possible.

The Jester rose to his feet and dusted off invisible dust from his elegant robe. “If you were anyone else I would have executed you for your crime. Do not forget that our relationship was blessed directly blessed from Her Majesty Herself” he sneered.

He hauled you up to your feet, his iron grip bruising. He dragged you down the corridors and up the many stairs to your chambers. He slammed the door open and dragged you inside.

“Think over what you have done. I don’t take such humiliation lightly” his eyes narrow as he looked down on you. “Don’t think you will ever get away. You belong to me and that’s final” with that he closed the door and locked it making you all alone.

Sethos

You ran over the dunes as fast as you could. You had to be fast. Behind you you could hear Sethos voice as he called for you. To your misfortune the free spirited man was fast. Extremely fast. Your sandals were filled with sand, but you couldn’t care less.

Suddenly it became quiet. Too quiet. You hid behind a rock formation and listened. Suddenly a figure slid down the dune to your left and leaped on top of you. He was precise enough that make sure you landed on the sand and not the rock behind you. His wild hair rustling in the wind.

The sight in front of you reminded you of the time when he swept you away and locked you away inside the temple. He had first gotten to know you when he visited Sumeru City. He had told you it was love at first sight and he asked you to come and visit the desert with him. You were taken aback by his impulsiveness, but you soon grew accustom to it.

“If you wanted to play hide and seek you could have just said so” his entire weight on you. He was silent for a few moments. His crystal green eyes scanning yours. You could see his gears turning. “Don’t tell me you tried to run away from me…? You would never do something like that? Right?” his voice lazed with disbelief and desperation.

In a swift movement you were brought to you feet. His hold on you right and you wondered if he thought you would fly away if he let go. “Let’s get back to the temple” his voice back to its jovial self, but his eyes clouded with obsession and desperation.

Thoma

The white mop mopped over the hardwood floor in a fast motion. The white colour quickly staining red. A crimson red pool of blood was spilled across the floor. The sight made you sick. Bile raising up in your throat. You were sitting in the coroner of the room , hugging your knees. The blonde man stopped his mopping and raised his head and looked at you. His face splattered with blood. He sighed and leaned the mop against the wall.

“I am so sorry you had to see that, my angle” his green eyes pleading. He crouched in front of your trembling form. He gently caressed your cheek.

The friendly and kind housekeeper was gone and replaced by a green eyed monster that slaughtered anything in its path. He had beheaded the kind men that helped you escape from the Kamisato estate.

“I am wounded that you tried to leave me. What did I do wrong?” his eyes glossy.

You locked me away you wanted to say, but you kept your mouth shut.

“My master has been kind and let us stay here together and this is your gratitude?” his voice slightly raised. His eyes scanned over your form and landed on your bloodied nightdress. “I have to get that off” he muttered as he quickly rose. His movements frantic as he looked for a washcloth.

“My gratitude?” your voice shaky, but loud. “You have taken everything away from me!” you stood up. Your legs shaky.

Thoma’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your tongue” his voice cold.

You swallowed. You understood now better than anyone why so many feared the “fixer”.

His hold on the washcloth tight. His knuckles whiter than snow. “Go to your room and change. I will wash your nightdress later” he spoke through gritted teeth.

Your colour drained from your face as you hurried to your room. Your bedroom seemed more like a prison than anything else.

Tighnari

The forest watcher had always lectured you about various plants and their effects and benefits. At first you thought it was boring, but after awhile you learned to use it to your advantage. Taking herbs from Tighnari’s beloved collection was tricky, but not impossible. You had read through every single book he had on botany. Your plan was bulletproof.

Tighnari had gently sipped on the cup of tea you had brewed for him while he read through some reposts. He had then fallen limp over the kitchen table. You checked his pulse and breathes out in relief when you felt his pulse against your fingers. You wanted to escape from the obsessed fox, not kill him.

You rummage through his pocket for his key. The key was heavy in your hand and it was almost a surreal feeling when you twisted it in the lock. The air fresh and welcoming. With a last look at the unconscious man you began your journey.

The rainforest was tricky to navigate in, but luckily you had stolen both a map and a compass from Tighnari. Yet again you were glad you paid attention to his boring lectures. The sound of branches snapping made you stop in your tracks. The hair on the back of your neck rose.

“Poisoning me…” his voice echoed through the treetops. “Your audacity is truly something” he sneered. “Look at me when I’m talking to you” his voice nearer.

You slowly turned around and were met with a angry hazel eyes. His long ears pinned back in anger. His arms folded over his chest.

“The rainforest is dangerous. Let’s get back” you could see he was holding back his fury. His jaw clenched. He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. “I guess I have no choice…” he sighed as he stalked towards you.

Quicker thank you could register he had trapped you within his arms. “I will never let you go. I’m just trying to protect you” he whispered against your ear.

Something pricked your neck. Your eyes widened and darted to Tighnari’s. “It had to be down. Consider it… pay back” he supported your body as you lost consciousness.

Venti

The anemo archon was an eerie man. He was all smiles and friendly laughter among the crowd disguised as Venti the bard, but with you he was like a completely different person. Sure he was still easygoing, but his obsession and possession overshadowing anything else. He had told you many times with a playful smirk that he was undoubtedly the weakest archon. You never believed him. You had seen with your very own eyes what he was capable of doing to those he thought was undeserving of your attention, but you had yet to see his full potential. Though you must admit that you rather did not wish to witness that.

He kept you in the ruins of Stormterror’s lair. He had made the ruin as liveable as possible and even quite cozy. He treated you like royalty and gave you everything except freedom. You thought it was rather stupid considering he was the god of freedom.

Escaping the ruin was almost completely impossible considering the wind shields that surrounded it and the dragon that acted as a guard. When you finally managed to escape and run over the grassy meadows you were so happy you cried.

Your tears clouded your vision causing you to become less aware of your surroundings.

Strong wind slammed against causing you to lose balance. There in front of you were Barbados. He was not in his usual clothing, but rather in a godly outfit. White big wings flapping behind him. His cerulean eyes glowing intensely in the night. He was completely silent, but you felt the anger oozing out from him.

You were completely frozen to the ground and you were unsure if it was his doing or your fear taking over. You wanted to explain yourself, but your voice failed you completely.

With a gust of wind you were swept up into his arms. His arms strong and squeezed you flushed against him. His wings flapped silently as he soared through the air. High up in the air you were able to see Mondstadt City and you quickly came to the realisation that you would probably never step a foot inside its gates again.

Wanderer/Scara

In front off you was a raging man. His eyes wide and filled with fury. His hands held anemo power which he sliced through the merchants that had guided you through the tick rainforest. Wanderer’s hair was slicked back with blood. He delivered the last strike to the merchant before he landed. He slowly turned around to face you. His hands shaking with anger.

You opened your mouth, but quickly shut your mouth at his raised hand. “Those lowlife who think they can take you away from me” he laughed manically. “How dumb can you be?” Wanderer sneered through laughter. “Because you would never leave me right? After all I have been through? Right?” his eyes crazed as he continued to spew nonsense. “We are destined to be together. It’s my right. How dare they to take that away from me?! I should revive them just so that I could kill them again” his laughter sounded almost forced.

He wrapped his arms around you. You could feel tears against your neck as he wept. You were astonished by his vulnerability. It almost made you pity him. Just almost.

He quickly regained his composure and roughly wiped his tears on his sleeve. “Let’s go home…” his voice distant.

The journey back had been quite. When you finally arrived back he shoved you inside. His eyes wide and intense. “You have no idea how much I wanna lock you up in a cage right now” he muttered. His porcelain white hand tightly gripping yours. “I will make sure so that you never leave me. I need you. I need you so much it hurts. So don’t ever try and get away.”

Wriothesley

You had long planned your escape from The Fortress of Meropide. Unlike the other inmates you were completely innocent. You had been wrongfully imprisoned on the request of Wriothesley. You had gained the trust of some of you fellow inmates and they promised to help you escape. You had chose the pipe cleaning day as your day of escaping. All went smoothly and exactly as planned.

The only step left in your plan was descend into the waters that the pipes were connected too and swim out to freedom. After that you had to avoid the detectors, but you were confident in your diving abilities.

As you were saying your thanks to the kind inmates, the sound of heavy boots against metal echoed in the pipes. In the opening of the pipe were Wriothesley. His imposing figure sending shivers down you spine.

The metal decorations on his outfit clattering with each step. The handcuffs on his hip catching the light. His icy eyes held an unreadable emotion. “Well well… What might this ruckus be?” he tilted his head and placed his hands on his hips. His tone held a dangerous edge to it. Wriothesley eyes glued onto yours and completely ignoring the others.

A bottomless pit formed in your stomach and you almost threw up. You swallowed the taste of vomit. Your freedom was so close, yes so very far.

“Are you aware your sentences are going to be so much longer?” his lips curled up into a little smirk. “I thought you were smarter than this” with two steps he reached you. He hooked off his cuffs and cuffed your wrists. “It seems you need a more secure cell… Luckily I know just the one” he leaned closer to your ear “I will make sure you always stick to my side”.

You had never regretted something more than your little escape attempt. The new so called cell was a bedroom connected to the Duke’s living quarters. Your freedom had never been so distant as it was now.

Xiao

You ran as fast as you could. The landscape blurring together as you navigated through the forest. You had to escape him. Or at least try. Tue bamboo forest was dense and dark. Your human eyes struggled to see clearly. You could hear birds fleeing in the distance. He was close.

You had ran away when you learned that he had slaughtered the man who had so kindly gifted you sun pork buns. The adepti had let you run first, which surprised you. Even though you didn’t understand why, you were grateful for your head start.

Suddenly a green black cloud appeared in front off you. You tried to turn in your heel to flow, but was stopped when a hand grabbed your collar. You were momentarily unable to breath. It was only when he loosened his grip that you were able to gasp for air.

“I don’t understand you mortals. I only do what I have to protect you. I give you everything you need and more” he sounded confused and annoyed.

“Without me you would not have managed to survive. At all” he spun you around so you could face him. “Did me killing that man hurt you that much? I have killed many of you near acquaintances and you never batted an eye…” his voice trailed off as he was lost in thought. “Could it be that you never realised? Never mind. It doesn’t matter now” he sighed.

At the thought of him killing your near friends without you knowing made you sob helplessly. He only started at you in confusion.

He clicked his tongue before he hauled you over his shoulder. “I need to ask Madame Ping for a tea pot it seems…” his voice a frustrated groan.

Zhongli

You had sought shelter at a kind older couple. You needed to regain your energy before you fled the city. The woman was kind and gladly cooked for you. She completely denied your help. You stayed at their house for two weeks before the older woman knocked at your bedroom door and told you a friend of her husband was coming to visit.

The atmosphere in the living room was as tense as it could get. In front of you were Zhongli. He was the friend the couple had spoken so warmly about. The brunette was sitting in the sofa besides the woman, one of his legs over the other. His hand elegantly holding a cup of tea. His reptile eyes staring you down intensely.

You felt like sinking into the floor. Your hands trembling as you took a sip of the tea. The bitter taste doing nothing to soothe your nerves.

“I don’t know if you are aware, but I and miss [Name] know each other’s very well” his smile sharp. To hear your husband speaking in such manner made your heart beat against your chest.

You knew it was unwise to go against Morax and his contracts, but you had no choice. He had tricked you into signing the contract that would imprison. Zhongli had terrified you before you knew of his identity as the Geo Archon, but when you found out about his identity you were absolutely petrified.

Zhongli hummed at a joke the man had told. His golden eyes never leaving yours. His lips twisted up into a grin which revealed his sharp fangs. With the golden light from the sunset outside he looked even more inhuman than ever before. You felt small and utterly helpless before him. You dreaded his punishment that you knew would income when he brought you back.

After an hour and an half had past Zhongli excused himself. “I must take my leave now. [Name] you should come with” his order clear as day. He smiled to the couple and bowed in courtesy.

You swallowed and nodded. You thanked the couple for their hospitality and left with Zhongli.

When you were out of earshot he turned to you. “A broken contract is no laughing matter my dear” his hand gripping yours. “I will make it clear to you when we get back who you belong to” his voice deep and determined.

[wild-jackalope]

When your boyfriend begins his vampirism transformation, you can’t stand all this time apart from him but visiting him during his rut turns into a big mistake.

pairing :: Vampire!Yuji x Reader

warning :: feral Yuji, pórn with some plot, blood play, animalistic sèx, implied vírgin reader/Yuji, reader passes out, blood sucking, dry hùmping, grinding, making out, Yuji and reader are in college

note :: vamp Choso next? 😏

As a young child, Yuji’s vampirish tendencies seemed more like odd quirks to you.

The way his canines were always largely pronounced, and never seemed to stain or break despite constant blunders to the face via fist or hard ball.

The way he’d always greet you with a sharp smile and hug you with an impressive strength (once you’d received a fractured rib after not having seen him for a week). Whilst his arms trapped your body, he nosed your head, huff the scent of your hair like it was a drug and not letting go until you’d kick and yelp at him to stop.

The way he always knew when you were on your period and the day before you’d get it, murmuring a casual “Are you about to get your period?” And the very next day you’d have stained your sheets during the night or ruined a pair of underwear.

The time he was a toddler and dipped his finger into a puddle of blood that pooled around smushed roadkill and lapped it off his finger like an ice-cream seemed like the worst example of his odd quirks.

So when Yuji was found by other vampires like him, and informed of his heritage, you hardly needed convincing.

“Come here.” Yuji cooed, thick arms outstretched to you.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, you’re so needy today.”

After integrating into a vampire community, your life with Yuji had changed. He went to a different school, had new undead friends.

“I missed you.” He murmured, pulling you in and moulding your body into his against your bed.

“You saw me three days ago.” Like always, Yuji nosed your hair like a in-love cat and inhaled the smell of your latest shampoo.

And despite being with Yuji for so many years, the two of you hadn’t reached the point of having sex. The furthest you’d gone was innocent grinding with some wandering hands. Now living his life as a vampire, the time for intimacy seemed even scarcer.

“Too long.” He drawled, running his fingers in a fluid motion up and down your spine.

“I missed you too.” You huffed, allowing your body to melt into his warm embrace. “I wish your schedule wasn’t such a pain.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Gojo wants me to start getting used to being awake during the night.” His hand lifted to cradle your head, holding you into his chest.

“But you can still walk around in the sunlight.” You protested.

“That might change soon, we don’t know.” His tone laced a tired repetition, giving you the clue he’d likely parroted the same argument you had to his teacher.

“Hm, fine. I don’t mind. Whatever I have to endure to keep my sexy vampire boyfriend.” You buried your head into his chest, hearing the reverberation of his laugh as he pinched your side.

“I’m barely even a vampire.” He added, to which you kissed his chin, hoping to distract him from the thought. “Fushiguro can control animals, what can I do? Punch really hard?” He was too lost in the disappointment of it all, so you dipped a hand under his hood and ran your thumb over his abs whilst planting a wet kiss to his neck.

The loose touch made him shiver and forced a stutter from his hips. His semi-hard dick rolled into your thigh, flushing your face and body at the feeling of his arousal.

He loosened the arms that barricaded you, pulling you to his level. His palm rested at your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse to feel the pump of your blood, a rhythm that always soothed him.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, much too seriously.

“You’re my boyfriend, Yuji, you don’t need to ask anymore.”

“But I love it when you say yes.” His lips mould into a smile. Contagious, you smiled too.

“Yes, I want you to kiss me.”

With a swift breath, Yuji’s lips slipped to your mouth, catching you in a passionate lip lock that immediately informed you just how much he missed you.

His lips devoured yours, starting with a hard press before encasing you in open mouth kisses that demanded you keep up with his rhythm. Just like most times you’d make-out with Yuji, he took hungry charge.

Your hands dipped further, nails dragging along his v-lining and skimming the elastic of his shorts. He rolled into you again, humping the fat of your inner thigh.

The desperation to please himself against your body brought a whine to your lips, which he ate with a smacking intensity. He must’ve decided those sounds were too sweet to muffle because his moving lips traveled further, latching to the pulse on your neck.

“Can we— go all the way this time?” He asked, lips hardly freeing from your neck to speak.

“Mhm.” You shyly muffled, his pink hair tickling your cheek.

His hand dipped underneath your thigh, pulling your leg up and just before he ventured south to undoubtedly give you the best head you’d ever receive he returned to your lips for another kiss.

His teeth tightened around your bottom lip, his canine breaking through the pink skin, causing spurts of blood to fall into your kiss. As soon as the sweet taste met Yuji’s tongue, he pushed you away, eyes blown wide staring at the nip.

Tasting the metallic blood yourself, you wiped the thin drops away. “It’s okay, it didn’t hurt.” You assured.

A beat passed with Yuji glowering at your lips swollen with passion. He licked off the bloody residue from his own mouth, whispering. “I have to go.”

“What? It’s okay, Yuji, I promise.” Your assurance didn’t reach him and before you could speak again, Yuji had lifted himself from your body and left. You called to him again, only to hear the shutting of your front door.

Yuji was never one to go crazy over blood, sure he might like his meat raw, and there was that one time with the roadkill… but he never went stiff whenever you scraped a knee or got a paper cut. It was so out of character for him that your mind began to wonder if you had done something to turn him off.

You’d called Yuji not long after his quick disappearance, only to be left with his voice message, telling you ‘Sorry I wasn’t able to answer your call! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.’ In his usual cheerful tone. Your messages to him were left on read, too.

Yuji was the type to respond to you within minutes and call you just about every day. To go from foreplay to feeling like you were single dizzied your sense of reality. Did you touch him wrong? Kiss him wrong? Say something you shouldn’t have?

Days passed with nothing but silence.

The thoughts rammed your mind until you could no longer take it, deciding to see Yuji and confront him about his odd behaviour.

You were no stranger to visiting Yuji after he’d been brought into the vampire community, having met his classmates and even a long lost older brother. His living space had certainly doubled in size, now he stayed in a large mansion rather than his late grandfather’s home. Having vampire heritage usually came with a large sum of money and Yuji was no exception to that.

You slipped inside his home, meekly calling your boyfriend’s name. Your voice bounced off the dimly lit walls and faded.

Behind you loomed Choso, tall and dark. “What are you doing here?” His voice broke fear into your spine, and you turned, unable to keep your back to him.

“I—I came to see Yuji.” You stood tall, sure of yourself.

A frown scrunched his beautiful pale face. “He hasn’t wanted to see you.”

“I know, that’s— that’s why I came to visit him.” You willed your heart to be still, however each time Choso’s dark maroon eyes swept over your smaller, weaker body fear and panic jumped you.

He smiled and you caught a glimpse of his shining white teeth. “You’re Yuji’s young friend, from childhood, yes?”

“Yes, sir.” Sir? Despite his ancient aura demanding some kind of formality, sir hardly seemed to fit.

He chuckled, kind and hearty. Were all vampires so utterly handsome? It must’ve been part of their design, faces and voices so alluring humans couldn’t help but become victims. Despite being aware of this possibility, your heart still fluttered for him.

“Please— tell me what’s wrong with him.”

The handsome smile faded. “Yuji and I aren’t like most vampires.” His eyes clouded, lifting from your body and catching sight of the stairs leading up to Yuji’s room. “We were born from the union of human and vampire, whilst most are born human and are turned by a vampire late in life.”

“Half vampire, right?” You weren’t completely unaware of vampiric history, despite Twilight being the majority of your informer, it was based in some truth.

Choso’s eyes gleamed and he nodded. “Yes.” His impressions of you seemed to shift, because his eyes held an amused interest. “The vampiric genes lay dormant in us until we come of age. Do you know the changes Yuji is currently experiencing?”

Sweat cooled to ice on your back pulling a swift shiver from you. You shook your head.

“Human food becomes mush, no longer satisfying the curdling hunger that rages for something more. Your lust, your passion, your anger all doubles in intensity.”

You let loose a small whimper at the thought of Yuji experiencing all this alone his room, going through changes you couldn’t hope to fathom the feeling of. Choso’s nose flared and his mind seemed to be pulled from the memory of his own transformation.

“I’m frightening you, I’m sorry.” He murmured.

“No, it’s okay. Please tell me, what did you do to deal with… everything?”

“Hid myself for over a year.”

Your heart sank. A year? Yuji and you had hardly been seperate from one another for longer than a few days. How would he, much less you, survive a year without the other?

“However it’s much too early to know how Yuji might react, he’s a strong boy.” Choso leaned to soothe your visibly stressed figure, a featherlight hand reaching your shoulder in comfort.

A shattering bang echoed down the winding stairs, sharply drawing both your and Choso’s attention.

“You should leave.” Despite the words being laced with kind formality, his face held a fierce expression.

“Okay.” Your body hardly allowed you to hesitate, finally giving into the flight response and leaving the gloomy house. Once free from the gates, you exhaled an uncomfortable sigh that freed your lungs of a breath you felt you were holding in the entire time.

But despite your quick departure, you hadn’t stayed away for long, deciding you needed to see Yuji as soon as possible.

So, you had returned the next day. Waiting for Choso to leave before entering the Itadori home. The blackness of night made it hard for you to navigate your away around the interior, although you had managed to stumble your way to the winding stairs and reached the second floor, leading you to Yuji’s room.

No noise. You couldn’t hear anything. You pressed your ear into the door and hoped to hear some indication of his presence. Still nothing. Your hand gripped the door knob, and before you could twist Yuji’s muffled voice met you.

“Don’t come in!” His tone was stiff, almost choked.

His command ripped your hand away from the door knob. “Yuji? You’re in there?” Misplaced excitement bloated your chest.

“Why are you here? Didn’t Choso explain everything to you?” He was clearly worried, but you couldn’t understand why.

“He did, I— I just wanted to see you.”

Silence permeated the air, but you heard floorboards creak under Yuji’s feet as he stepped closer to the door you stood behind.

“I miss you, Yuji, I miss you a lot.” You continued.

“I—” The words thickened his throat like garlic. “I miss you too.”

The sound of pointed nails, scraping desperately against wood in long rakes echoed from behind the door. It made you shiver.

“Do you?”

“Yes.” So much need seeping from his words, desperate for you to understand the level of which he yearned for you in your absence. “I miss your smile, your smell, I miss your heartbeat. God I miss hearing your blood flow.”

“Yuji—”

“Yesterday, when you visited. I could smell you, sense your heartbeat,” A deep exhale, and the scraping stoped. “Made my mouth water.”

“I—” You’d got him discussing his passion towards you, now unable to get a word in.

“Then when you talked to Choso— he made you nervous, didn’t he? I could smell it. Almost tore him apart when you left.”

The words, however deranged, made your back ache to be cradled by him. “Yuji, let me come in.”

Weak willed, he thought to himself. “Okay.”

Despite his voice seeming so close, when you opened the door, Yuji kept to the other side of the room, crouching on the edge of his bed.

You approached him, feeling as though you were encroaching on a caged tiger. The warning sensation that he could strike at any moment was one you shoved away. You halted a foot away from the bed.

Yuji’s hand kept over his mouth and nose, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his eyes glazed over you. “Are you okay?” You asked.

He nodded, strained. “You look good.” He murmured into his palm. “So good.”

“Good enough to eat?” You joked. Yuji’s eyes widened and he desperately grasped at the red hoodie covering his steaming body. You cringed, bad timing. “Sorry.” you took a seat at the end of the bed.

The weight of you shifting the mattress only seemed to make Yuji tense up further, eyes laser focused on where your butt and thigh connected with the bed.

“How are you feeling? Sick?” You asked.

“—Hungry.” The answer left him too swiftly.

“Right, Choso said you would be.” You gazed up at the ceiling. What could you do to help him? You felt useless, unable to even be near your boyfriend without him clamping up.

“I’m sorry— for leaving. The other day.” He huffed out.

“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologise. I understand now. I wish you would’ve told me, though. I thought I did something wrong.” You admitted.

“No, it was me.” He shifted closer to you. “I got too excited, then I bit you.”

“I didn’t mind.” You shrugged, averting your eyes. “I liked it.”

Yuji’s grunted against his hand. His gums itched to stab his growing fangs into your warm flesh at your sultry words. “You did?” He drawled, affected like a drug.

“Yes.” You’d surely come to regret the next words that left you. “Can you do it again?”

His reserve to keep himself from you utterly disappeared whilst his desire to leave you pale with nasty bites all over your skin overtook him. Yuji crawled to you, pulling you further onto his bed and trapping you beneath his weight.

His cock was already hard at the pheromones you’d been oozing into his room, you could feel it pressing into your thigh the moment he moved between your legs.

Already his lips moved to yours, overtaking you with a passionate intensity. He licked over his previous bite mark, tasting the metallic healing before lightly pressing his canines into you again. Even a little prick from his sharp fangs was enough to fill your kiss with drops of blood.

Hungrier now, Yuji licked and sucked at your bottom lip. Without truely realising it, he began to grind his hard dick into you, rubbing himself into your thigh, then crotch. You gasped as he made contact, that sound being devoured by Yuji the moment it escaped your mouth.

Before your wound could close up, Yuji nipped you again, slurping up the heavenly blood your swollen lip had to offer. Furiously, Yuji humped your core, utterly driven by his own hunger and desire.

You forced your head away, Yuji attempted to chase your honey-blooded lips, until you gasped for air. His hazy eyes snapped from his bloodlust for a mere second to check your gasping form, when he saw your lips swollen with passion, raw and slicked with his saliva and your plum pink cheeks, he dived into your body again, unable to keep himself away.

“Y-Yuji— Yuji.” You called to him, unable to reach past the frenzied desire clouding his mind. In sweet recognition, he kissed your cheek, bringing you a moment of heartfelt clarity before he bit you.

Yuji slipped down your neck and made out with your pulse, licking along the line which pumped your blood and sucking the skin. His hot, thick hands grab your sides, keeping your squirming hips still as he fucked you dry.

“Wan’ more. Let me drain you baby, please, I need more. So hungry, so so hungry for you.” He spoke through riddled huffs of your hair, nosing your nape like a pet.

“Yuji—”

“Wan’ you to be my first, for everythin’.” He continued. You couldn’t help but fall into him further, letting up to help solve his desperate hunger.

“Just a little—not too much!” You added, hand clamping against his shoulder.

He hissed into the bare of your neck, munching the supple skin until your blood pooled into his mouth.

White flashed over your eyes and you yelped, pushing against him. The struggled only made him latch onto your more, moaning loudly whilst his hips jutted into you.

The speed which Yuji sucked and dry-fucked you was dizzying, the lightheadedness making it hard for you to push him away. “Enough, Yuji, stop— ahh.”

His fangs left your freshly penetrated skin, tongue licking over the oozing remnant.

“Feel dizzy, Yuji.” You slurred, having no response from him.

“No, no, not done yet. Please. I want more.” With painful regret, he left your seeping neck and eyed you.

“Yuji...” You whined.

“I’ll make you cum, yeah? Can I? Make you feel good.”

Faintly, you nodded. He kissed his way down your body, pulling off the articles of clothing as he did. First your shirt, then your bottoms. He huffed your underwear, taking a long drag of the moist fabric. “Yuji!” You gaped, squirming.

In retaliation, he forced down your hips, his impossible strength burying you still into the mattress. Again he scented you, before tearing at your underwear with just his teeth.

He barely looked over your cunt, instead mapping you out with his tongue. The first lap sliding around your cunt was merely for his own curiosity, licking over your curves and bumps, circling your weepy hole. The puffs of his hot breaths lulled you back into a flushed realisation, the woozy lightheadedness fading.

Despite Yuji being drugged on the high of your sex, he was aware enough to focus on your clit, spelling shapes into the nub with his tongue before licking up the slick you weeped from the pleasure and repeating the cycle.

You reached for him, threading one hand through his short pink spikes whilst the other grabbed at the hand locked to your hip.

The new sensation rocked your body, his wet, warm tongue slurping and squelching around your cunt as he ate you out.

You cursed loudly, a premature orgasm rippling over your body until you went limp under him. Yuji dragged his fangs over your twitching clit, coming dangerously close to biting you.

Still vibrant with your orgasm, you sat up, bringing his chin to you and kissing him.

His hands left your sides, and you didn’t need to glance at the red marks of his handprint to know that it’d bruise tomorrow.

“Was that good?” He asked, you nodded desperately and he groaned to know he brought you pleasure.

“You too.” You added, words unable to form correctly. “Wan’ you to feel good.” You opened your legs to him, and he moaned at your offering.

“Fuck.” He hissed, shoving off his pants and shirt sporadically. His boxers followed in suit, slower, suggesting that Yuji was somewhat shy to reveal himself to you for the first time.

You were just as bashful, looking up to the ceiling to avoid the sight. Your eyes only returned to him when his tip pressed into your cunt.

“Wanted to feel this f’ so long…” He drawled, sliding his hard dick up and down your wet pussy.

“Just b—be gentle, Yuji.” You uttered.

“I’ll try.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice, neither your nor him knew he would be able to hold himself back from fucking you desperately.

His squishy head slipped into the first ring of your chasm, moulding to the tightness of your cunt. The initial feeling made him buck his hips spastically, freeing a choked moan from his throat.

“Oh fuck, fuck.” He cursed, pushing himself halfway in before halting to pace himself. “You feel so good, so so good, fuck I’m gonna cum.”

He rested his hands around your bruising sides, his chest rising and falling with an intense rhythm. Although Yuji’s orgasm approached far too quickly, he pulled your hips onto him, his arms lifting your weight like you were a plastic doll.

Your hips connected with a tight smack!

You whined and Yuji gasped your name. His cock twitched inside you, aching to release against your gummy insides.

“Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck.” Immediately his hips smashed into you, once, twice before you felt Yuji’s hot seed slash your insides. “Let me turn you, fuck—” He choked through the grunt of his orgasm.

“What??” He didn’t stop. Continually and erratically humping your gushy insides.

“I wanna fuck you forever, please, let me turn you.”

“Yuji—”

“You’ll be mine forever,” the mere thought hardened his sensitive dick painfully. “Forever.” He hissed.

“T-Think about what you’re saying, Yuji! That’s s-serious— nhg—” You pushed against his chest, trying to escape the intensity of his thrusts.

“Don’t try and leave.” His claws tore through the flesh of your sides. He kept you down, buried in the layers of blankets and plush. Deeper now, his cock reached the furthest part of your insides.

“D—Do you even know how?” You gaped, throwing your head back and moaning the moment his cock head massaged the spongey nerve bundle inside you.

“I’ll learn.” He seemed to take the show of your neck as an invitation, because he began lapping up the half dry blood his puncture wounds left.

“Nnno Yuji, I can’t think— fuck.”

“Don’t think, okay? Just say my name.”

As if the command cleared your mind, you did just that, voice cracking halfway the mewl of his name as Yuji’s teeth reopened the two holes in your neck. This time, the sharp stab hit you harder sending a jolt of pain through your body, clamping up your muscles.

The moment your blood waved over his tastebuds was the same your pussy tightened in reaction to the pain, at both sensations a thick drop of precum seeped into frothy mess inside you. His moan reverberated into the raw skin of your neck and you responded with a weak grunt of your own.

His humps into your cunt loosened, his aim becoming unfocused as he lost himself in your essence. Your impossibly ambrosial blood satisfied the hunger and desire he hadn’t known had been hanging over him since childhood.

Nothing could be more euphoric than fucking you whilst feasting on your neck.

“Yu…” your ears rang out, heart pumping escaping blood into Yuji’s mouth.

White steadily overtook your vision and everything but the sensation of Yuji’s hot cock working against your sensitive, gummy walls faded.

Your white-hot orgasm brought you back, jolting your body like a lifesaving shock of electricity that had your back contorting. It seared your empty veins with unfaltering love for Yuji. You’d let him turn you, you’d let him do anything to you. Your quick jolt ripped Yuji’s teeth from you, allowing his mouth free rein to moan your name as his own orgasm came quickly.

Your inside sucked Yuji in, desperately pleading for more of his seed. A slave to your cunt, Yuji came again, adding another clump of white, warm cum inside your pink chasm. Another few spurts of feral thrusts was all Yuji had in him.

You gasped at the air, feeling the weight of Yuji lift from you and fall into the space beside you.

His nails loosened from your raw hips, replaced with a kind hold of his thick hands. He pulled you in, cradling your pale cold body against his hot, sweaty skin like you were his favourite stuffed toy.

It had taken a mere minute after Yuji cleaned your remnant from inside his mouth before clarity hit and he shot up. “Oh fuck! Are you okay? Shit, I went too far.”

Glorious afterglow welled your fuzzy brain. “M’ okay..” You uttered, fluttering eyes and pale face telling him otherwise.

“Okay. Fuck. I’ll uh— get a cookie, for you, and a juice box.” He was gone for less than a minute, but within that time you fell into unconsciousness and came to wearing one of his shirts and having been noticeably cleaned up. Yuji cradled your head, prompting you to drink from a straw.

He’d reached clarity after being severely fucked out of his feral state. To you, he even looked calmer, eyes a cool brown and canines retraced. The sweet juice lifted the pallor from your body, and the slightest bit of colour flushed your cheeks. Yuji brightened at the sight.

“Do you feel better? I’m so sorry.” He apologised quickly.

“I’m okay, I’m fine.” You sighed, utterly fatigued. “Holy fuck that so intense.”

Like a praised puppy, Yuji beamed. “Was it good?”

“Yes— yeah. I’ve never… cum that hard before.” You admitted. Yuji’s invisible tail only wagged harder.

Internally, he fist pumped. “Yeah, me neither.” He stated, sliding into the bed beside you.

A comfortable pause enclosed the two of you, until your mind lingered on the words he declared while high on your blood and insides.

“You were lying before.” You stated, despite it really being a question.

“What’d I say?” He asked.

“You wanted to turn me, into a vampire.”

“Shiiiit.” He rubbed his shoulder, awkwardly nodding. “I did— do. I do, actually.” His brown eyes slid to you, gauging the expression on your face. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t want to live forever unless I’m with you.”

“Sounds like a marriage proposal.” You huffed.

“It does, I guess. We wouldn’t have to get married right away, we’d have forever to figure that out.”

“You’re serious?” You shifted, turning to look him head-on.

“Yeah.” Yuji nodded, like he’d just proposed a casual date.

“I’ll…” An abundance of questions overflowed your mind. Was turning into a vampire painful? How would he even do it? Would you live with him? Would you have to kill to eat?

Most of all; did you want to live forever? With Yuji?

“I’ll think about it.” You finished.

Warmly, Yuji embraced you, pulling you into his chest and blanketing you with his thick arms. “No pressure, yeah? I love you, vampire or not.”

“I love you too, my sexy vampire boyfriend.” You mused. Yuji dug his face between your neck and shoulder, planting kisses over your mark painted skin.

“I think that nickname is pretty well suited now.”

Part two? 😏

[a-ikuoliver]

hiring you after a particularly tense night could either be the best decision endeavor ever made, or the worst.

pairing: enji todoroki x f!reader w/c: 2.7k warning/s:fem!reader, escort!reader, cheating, reader has hair out, finger sucking notes: sorry not sorry i just wanna be a rich mans toy; dialogue is a lil clunky my bad lmao

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“so, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” despite the firepower of his quirk, the ice is thick between you, your teasing words hardly making a crack in the frigid surface. undeterred by it’s solidity, you make your way over to the hero, still seated at the desk on a chair that makes him seem more imposing than he is, his shoulders flaring past the edges of the high back, the only thing in the room that towers over his seated frame.

the expansive office isn’t enough for the both of you, the air already thick when you take another step closer, the heavy mahogany swinging shut behind you, latching into place with an echoing thud. still without a word, endeavor stares you down like he would a villain, watching your every move, every rise of your chest, the slow sway of your hips. his ears tingle hearing your sleek heels click along the hardwood floor, slow, calculated steps across the ice, no fear of falling when you venture further into the icy depths of the office.

crystal blue eyes trail over your body with every click, drinking in the sight of your tight, white blouse, the top three buttons undone to expose a sliver of your lacy bra, the skirt with a slit far too high on your thigh to be appropriate, your sheer black stay-ups that stop at your mid thigh, a peek of your garter poking from beneath your skirt to keep them up. his ears are ringing when his glare reaches your heels, unsure if it’s his blood rushing to his head, or the sound of you stepping over the rug echoing in his head.

the hero’s heart pumps in his chest incessantly, he can already see the headlines now, top hero hospitalised for cardiac event after inviting escort to his agency. your proximity might be a fate worse than death.

drawing his eyebrows down, he averts his eyes; it shouldn’t be this easy to work him up, you’ve just walked into his office and his mind is already wandering. and yet, when he slouches in the leather, he spots the dark red lace beneath your skirt, the minute layer of fabric doing nothing to hide your dizzying cunt. enji’s sure he’s pale as his head rolls back, the blood rushing from his head, swallowing hard, he wills himself to just relax. you weren’t a threat, you were a woman. so, why was his skin burning so damn hot?

slinking around the corner of his desk like a cat readying for a nap in the sunlight, your non-existent tail curls around his throat, bringing his attention back solely to you. perching yourself on the edge of his desk, shuffling back just enough until the bare skin of your thighs squishes against the cool surface, your position hiking your skirt higher on your limbs, even more so when you cross one leg over the other, pushing the fabric to your hips. he’d never admit it, but his cock jumps just watching you move, gliding over the slowly melting ice with a confidence that made his head feel like static the longer he stared.

your allure makes his head fuzzy, your little office getup flattering every curve and plain of your body; the cliche glasses perched on your nose working better for him than he’d thought. it only gets fuzzier taking you in, your exposed thighs, squishing around the elastic of your garter, the curve of your throat, the shape of your tits when you leaned closer, the colour of your lips. you study him through the glass, licking your lips just to watch him squirm, nearly drooling yourself at the flex of his thighs as he adjusts in the seat, his bulge more than enough evidence of everything he refused to say aloud.

despite calling you after a late patrol, heaving and panting down the line with his fat cock grasped in his hand, he never quite expected the follow through.

“i’ve never been inside the number ones office before,” his gaze is still glued to your thighs listening to you speak, the weight of your sultry gaze making him shift side to side again. quirking your head, your voice is low and even when you lean closer to question him, “what are you so nervous about, endeavor?”

it takes every ounce of his self control to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head at the sound of your purring voice, instead, he keeps his blue eyes trained on your sparkling, mischievous ones. even with his attempt to remain stoic, the glimmer in your eyes makes it abundantly clear you remember the low, gravelly tone of his voice when he’d called you, the addictive rumble in his throat as he’d all but groaned down the line, asking to see you. you didn’t bother to respond with your rates, you knew he’d pay from how fucked out he sounded.

“i’m not.” enji wordlessly thanks any god above that his voice is even, that he doesn’t choke on the words, even when you drift closer. your scent clouds his mind, he doesn’t know if it’s your perfume, or a quirk, but the smell sticks to the inside of his nose, melting into every wrinkle and ridge of his brain with every slow breath in. shaking his head doesn't quite clear his head. countless villains defeated by him, but a gorgeous escort clad in a tiny skirt was making him tremble, the pure lewdity of you draped on his desk dressed like that had his blood rushing to places it hadn’t been in years.

growing closer to the hero,his dick twitched like it did the night he called you, the fat tip of his cock starting to stick to his boxers when your lips brushed against the stubbled skin of his jaw in an addictive, barely-there touch, marring the skin with a line of dark lipstick from the corner of his lips to his ear.

“let’s get you more comfortable,” you purr in his ear, the sound waves sending jolts of electricity down his jaw, through the jugular in his throat, down his oesophagus into the depths of his stomach with a deep shudder. your head is just as foggy as his when you drop to your knees in front of him, the wet dream of the hulking hero falling apart at the seams when you’d hardly touched him, hadn’t done a thing to make him so clammy, to get him so worked up, to have his fists clenching at his sides. you hadn’t even looked at his fat cock yet, let alone touched it.

kneeling between his thighs, each wider than your head, you lift a heavy foot that’s nearly as long as your torso, setting his heel in your lap as he studies you like you’re alien; dark red eyebrows furrowing, wrinkling in the centre when you unzip the side of the boot, tugging the moulded lather off his foot. he can see down your thin shirt at this angle, his stormy eyes locked on the charm at the centre, hypnotised by the way it catches the light like a crystal sun catcher in the middle of july, his attention only drawn away from your chest when you tugged his other foot into your lap.

the longer you fiddled with his shoes, the more strung out he got, his tendons feeling like they were about to rip under his skin, his knuckles itching to reach for you, to tug at the flimsy buttons holding your shirt together until the stitches split, growing more and more desperate to bury his cock in your cunt. fuck, he nearly forgot how a warm, wet pussy felt gliding up and down his cock. his eyes fluttered shut, the relief of his boots slipping off his feet doing little to relax his wired body, especially the more he thought about how you’d look bouncing in his lap, still in that short, tight skirt, your pretty manicured fingers rubbing at your clit, your mascara smudging under your eyes when you came, how you’d moan his name when you ride him. would you shudder feeling him dip his head into your weeping cunt? would you ask him to go slow, shiver atop him sinking down his length? would you let him spill his seed in your cunt? or swallow all his cum while you lick him clean of your juices. biting his lip, he stifles a groan at the fantasy of your cheeks full of his cum, of it spilling over your perfect lips, dripping down your chin onto your chest, tainting your thin shirt.

—his eyes squeeze shut with a groan, a heavy hand rubbing at his lidded eyes, the pressure of his knuckles in the socket forcing the picture of you from his mind. he shouldn’t be doing this. he can’t do this. his cock is aching, he can’t be doing this, but fuck, he needs it.

“i can hear you thinking,” you study his face, taking in the bright topaz of his eyes, the indecision swirling in them, the jagged scar tearing through the left side of his face, leaving a gap in the hair on his jaw, the stubble spattered around the clear skin surrounding it, the start of a beard a red only a shade darker than the hair on his head. enji’s hand drops to his thigh, his bright aquamarine gaze meeting yours, the blue a deep navy in the shadows stretching over his face, somehow still glowing an electric blue despite the darkness beneath them, the weary lines that come with the job, and age. propping your chin on his knee, his head rolls back, the front of his boxers nearly wet from staring at you, the glittering of your eyes that looked like you were starstruck, the dark eyeliner smudged around your lash line that he desperately wanted to make run down your face, the creamy lipstick already starting to smear around your lip line, half of it still left on his cheek.

“i don’t know if i can do this…” running a hand through dark red hair, leaving it in spikes. even with his apprehension, he doesn’t stop you from dragging your fingertips over the hard muscle of his thighs, doesn’t jostle your chin from his knee, allowing you to slide your hand under the hem of his shirt to feel the heat of his bare abdomen.

“i..i’m married.”

there’s a flash across his face, a guilt, a worry. you we’re used to clients having… commitments, someone to go home to after you, although, this was the first time you’d seen a man so concerned about it, the morals of betraying his family, the morals of just thinking of you laid bare for him to lick, nip and suck as he pleased, to make your spine arch into him. he’s itching to have you melt on his tongue, on his fingers, fuck, the longer he ogles you, the more he thinks tarnishing his reputation might be worth it. your posture straightens, the hero doesn’t miss a single twitch in your muscles, waiting for you to stand, to storm out. instead, you hum, an amused sound from low in your throat, your hands sliding from beneath his shirt back down the length of his thighs.

light as a feather, your touch grazes his aching cock, his blood running hot through his veins to his crotch, like it was his own hellfire ablaze beneath your touch. it doesn’t cool when you reach for his left hand, tugging the limb easily into his lap, not a single one of his bulging muscles straining to stop your light touches on his skin. sparing a glance at him, you gently trace your fingertips over the cold gold of his ring, the metal dinged, scratched and worn smooth at the edges from years of marriage, decades even.

“i’m not trying to be your wife, endeavor,” your eyes shine looking up at him, “it’s cliche, but i’m anything you want; a lover, a girlfriend, a date— if you don’t wanna touch me,”

your pink tongue pokes out from between your lips when you trail off, slowly licking down the length of his finger. the digit’s calloused, thick from years of hero work, his skin hot in your mouth like a cookie was right out of the oven, when you were too impatient to let them cool, instead savouring the dough melting in your mouth. wrapping your lips around his finger, your eyes are still locked on his, hardly sucking at the digit when he breaks the eye contact, heavy eyelids fluttering shut with a deep groan at the sensation of your tongue and lips around the third knuckle. he sounded even better than he did down the phone; so gravelly, like the noise was alien to his vocal chords.

“then, you don’t have to touch me,”

neither of you have shed a single piece of clothing, he hasn’t even touched you, you’ve barely touched him, yet, his head rolls back when you moan around his finger, licking at his hand like you were trying to taste his leaking cock, your ministrations hardly helping the pre steadily dribbling from his tip. enji’s hips jump when your tongue dips in the webbing between his fingers, any apprehension melting inside him with every pulse of his echoing heartbeat, desperation thrumming in his veins, the need to feel your drool dripping down his cock, to feel the heat of your cunt beneath the red lace of your panties. he throbs with the need to sink into you, he’d fuck you on the floor of his office right now if it meant he could see your pretty pussy dripping with his cum. unfortunately, instead of your creamy slick gathering in his palm, sliding down to his wrist, it’s your saliva, drooling from your bottom lip onto his thick skin, dripping onto the front of his trousers to make a patch on the front mirroring the ever-growing one on his boxers.

“i won’t touch you unless you decide it,” your voice is like an angels chorus, even as devilishly sultry as it was.

“huh-i’m—” breathing heavily, enji’s voice is garbled, his mouth drawing into a tight line, every muscle in his body tensing when you bob your head, sucking his fingers deeper into your throat like you were trying to milk his dick. your hair falls onto your face when his hips jolt off the chair, his hips pushing his palm into your face, his ring finger pressing against the back of your tongue. his resolve is melting, his hips grinding shakily into the air the longer you sucked at his hand in his lap, your soft lips wrapping around the ring beneath his last knuckle, the sensation of your teeth against his skin forcing a rumbling groan from his chest. gold ring between your teeth, you sensually drag your tongue along the underside of his finger, setting every nerve on fire with the tip of your wet muscle fluttering against every ridge of his knuckles.

he’s fucking ruined above you, bulky thighs raising off of the office chair in search of your wet, hot mouth to release into, his hair sticking up in every direction from his fingers constantly tugging on the ends, the veins in his throat shining with sweat at every heavy thrum of his blood. with white knuckles, his abdomen tenses, every muscle in his body fighting against the urge to cum, to wait until he had you beneath him, on top of him, on his face would be less fucking shameful than making a mess of his boxers from a little pseudo-blowjob.

enji mumbles something, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to make any discernible words, especially not over the sound of your slurping at his fingers, he sounded more like he was huffing and grunting than speaking, the sound clawing itself out of his throat when his eyes screw shut, his muscles losing the fight to restrain himself.

shuddering, every solid muscle relaxes at once, the tension ebbing, melting from his veins into pleasure when his cum spits from his hot tip, sticking the front of his boxers to his cock.

his head drops back when you sit back up on your knees, his ring looped around the tip of your tongue, his finger falling from your mouth with an audible pop in the quiet room, the only sound his heavy breathing and the shuffle of your clothes as you adjust your position.

he can fucking hear the grin in your voice spotting the dark stain at the top hero’s crotch, “still worried about your marriage, endeavor?”

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ace Trappola: Trouble, that Trappola

Wow, different pjs??? I wonder if each student will truly have unique sleepwear or if it’ll be like “everyone in the same dorm has similar sleepwear, just recolored and with a different motif”. I’ve been laughing about how Ace is dressed and posed, it’s very… Justin Bieber-coded. His bedhead though, it reminds me of Sylvain from FE3H.

Fun fact, I have an irl friend that has the same birthday as Ace... Therefore, I am legally obligated to celebrate it with them/j This year, we're going to an Alice in Wonderland-themed afternoon tea, which I think is very appropriate for Ace! Aaaaaah, My Alice in Wonderland-loving heart can’t take it 😭

Rise and Shine!

He was having a pleasant dream.

There was a path, and the longer he walked on that path, the more the scenery morphed into nonsense.

First was a forest full of twisting turns, colorful signs that pointed this way and that. There was mewing coming from the trees overhead, but every time he looked, he’d find no one there.

Next was a field of progressively bigger and bigger plants. The flowers had faces set in them, and they taunted Ace as he passed. He had plucked the underside of a mushroom cap and chomped down on it. A mistake—Ace had an out-of-body experience, ballooning to the size of a giant and then back to his regular size.

Then he washed away in a sea of tea, spilling from a gigantic glass bottle labelled Drink Me. He swam with the sugar cubes drifting in the fragrant rapids. He caught a current of milk and rode it past trees of chocolate. A dollop of grape jam had dropped down from a branch and landed on his nose.

When Ace, at last, fished himself out of the tea, he was left sticky, skin caked in sugar. As he made to wring his clothes of Darjeeling, he spotted an iced cookie by his feet. Eat Me, it said. There was a trail of them, confections dotting the road ahead in a neat trail. He had followed it—followed until the cookies became crumbs and he was left wandering in a white void, a blank canvas.

Wandering… wandering… where?

Just as that question cropped up like an unwanted weed in an otherwise flawless lawn, a soft sound tickled his ear.

Someone was calling his name.

Who is it…?

He picked up his pace. A casual stroll to a speed walk, then a speed walk into a jog, a job into a run, then a run into a full-on sprint.

"I'm coming! I'm coming already, darn it!!" Ace shouted into the blinding white. "I'm coming, so...!!"

Wait for me. I'll meet you there.

I'll definitely, definitely...!!

His eyes snapped open.

He was lying on his back, wrapped up in his comforter and staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. Ace blinked several times, slowly adjusting to the sunlight that was spilling in through drawn curtains. A groan escaped him--it was too early for this.

“Mmm… What time is it?” He rolled over in a groggy daze, reaching for his phone. It was still connected to a charger, but it snapped right out of its socket when Ace jolted up. "WHAT?!"

The time, it couldn't be correct. But the line of text messages in his history confirmed the building dread in his stomach.

Gm, Ace! I'll be over soon. Cya then.

I'm here!

Hey, are you up? It's 10 minutes past.

Did you stay up late talking to your bro and sleep through your alarm again?

Hellooooo?

I'm gonna leave without you if you don't come out in 5 minutes.

"Crap, I'm running late!!"

Ace leapt out of bed and flew across his room. The comics and magazines littering his mattress scattered to the floor, but he didn't stop to pick them up.

He moved like lightning, hurriedly dressing and rushing into the communal washroom. While he brushed his teeth with one hand (lest he face the wrath of his vice dorm leader), he teased out his hair with the other. After splashing his face with water (who was going to clock him, Vil?), Ace scribbled on his signature heart, grabbed his backpack, and slipped into his sneakers.

He had his technique down pat thanks to years of practice.

Ace bolted down the hall, stuffing a protein bar into his mouth as he cleared the door. The day greeted him--and so did you, glancing up from your own phone.

"There you are! You kept me waiting, wise guy," you lectured him. It wasn't anything serious--not like his dorm leader's lengthy tirades--just paling around.

"Excuse you," Ace huffed, running a hand through his hair, "I'm fashionably late. There's a difference."

You laughed. Typical of him to always have a snappy comeback prepared.

"Well, c'mon then, fashionably late loser," you urged, playfully nudging his arm, "or we'll both be tardy."

"We'll be late, but at least we'll be late together," he grumbled, nudging you back. "That's fine by me. Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be stuck in a room with ya for the afternoon."

"That's a weird way of describing detention with Crewel-sensei."

"What can I say? I'm a poet," he shrugged, letting his sarcasm drip like thick nectar. "Besides, I can't leave you hangin'."

"No?" Your eyebrows hitched. "Funny, cuz I clearly remember you ditching me for cleaning duty on the first day of classes. I almost thought you had left for class without me today too."

"Oi, that was then and this is now! Come on, do you really think I'd do that to you? Me? Really?"

"Absolutely," you said without missing a beat.

"Pfft. You're so wrong about that." He rolled his eyes. "If you were really that worried that I'd gone without you, you could've poked your head in to check on me."

You frowned. "That'd mean I'd have to go into your room."

"So? I've been over at your place and in your room before. What's the big deal? You'd just be returning the favor."

He leaned in, so close that your noses almost touched. Your heart stood still. The corners of Ace's mouth lifted into a smirk. It suited him well, loathe as you were to admit it.

"Or is it that you're being shy?" he asked in a singsong. "Prefect 🎵"

"I-I'm not!" you squeaked, stepping back to put distance between the two of you. "Quit assuming things, Ace! This is why you're so annoying."

"And who is it that's decided to hang out with my 'annoying' ass, huh?" he countered smoothly.

"Urgh...! Maybe I shouldn't have wasted my time waiting for you to get ready after all..." you muttered, turning away from him. "My morning would be way more peaceful without you."

"Way less interesting too," he quipped--getting in the last word.

You shook your head, but didn't bring yourself to argue. However meddlesome his tongue was, he had spoken the naked truth.

He's trouble, that Trappola.

[yangwns]

silent stalker – part one

parts: 1/?

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

warning: suggestive content, smoking, mentioned blood and weapons, swearing

genre: dark romance & thriller

summary: you are a quiet girl who's enjoying your summer vacation. your favorite place is the library to read books and to see the shy boy who works there. but little did you know that the shy boy was obsessed with you.

this is the written version of "silent stalker" on tiktok by @yangwns.

The soft hum of music was heard inside your bedroom. Warm sunlight bathed your walls and clean bedsheets with a soft vanilla color. Your feet swayed gently in the air as you lay on your stomach with your eyes focused on your laptop screen. The sunlight inside your bedroom was comforting, different compared to the searing heat of outside. It was late July, college was just around the corner. You were writing a blog on your laptop, it was like a diary to you. Everyday, you would write about how your day went, what you feel, or even up to what your inner desires were.

Inside your ears, you could hear The Neighborhood's "Sweater Weather" playing. As you worked on your blog, you could see a cup of ice from the corner of your eye. You hoped that the ice would melt in this summer heat, it didn't. The particles of water dripped from the cup, creating a small puddle of cold water around it. A sigh pressed against your lips, your idea to pass your time on your blog until the ice melts was a bad idea. Your eyes drift to the time, 4:35 PM. You couldn't help the feeling of the corners of your lips curling into a soft smile, it was time. It was time to go to your favorite place, the library.

You jump off your bed and get ready to go to your local library. When you get up from bed, you quickly get dressed in whatever you could find in your closet. You were wearing a grey jacket over a simple white t-shirt and high waisted shorts with the classical black chuck taylor tennis shoes. As you left your house, you begin to think why you thought it was a great idea to wear a jacket in the summer. When you start walking, you start to feel your skin become sticky from the humidity outside. The fabric of the jacket sticking to you. But you weren't going to take it off. The jacket you wore was an oversized grey jacket, the musk scent of wood still imprinted on it. It reminded you of him, Park Sunghoon, your ex.

Your thoughts were now on your ex, tears pricked inside your eyes as you thought of him. But all of those thoughts faded when you came across the familair building in front of you. Your feet came to a stop when you see the library, trying to collect yourself before going inside. The emptiness you once felt melted when you thought about your only love, books. But also, the thought of seeing a particular worker. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of him. You didn't know his name or who he was because you were too shy to ask for his name.

You open the door to the library, the sound of a bell chiming rang inside your ears. A gust of air welcomed you as soon as you opened the door. The gust of wind made your long black hair sway, tendrils of hair flowing gently. It made you squeal, feeling surprised at the gust of wind. You suddenly feel your cheeks burn as you hear the hiss of a shush inside the library. Typical librarians. You purse your lips, shoulders caving in at the embarrassment and walked inside.

You start walking inside and are completely mesmerized by the library. You've been hear thousands of times but it never fails to leave you in awe every single time you step inside. You loved the smell of new books, the pages smelled ike a new car. You also loved the soft glow of the lights hanging in different locations. The different color scheme of books was like a piece of art to you. Your feet wandered inside, eyes searching for a new book. The more you searched, the soon did realization hit you that you had no clue where the new released books were. You had walked passed the same isle for the fourth time and still hadn't found that section of books.

You clutch your book bag, determined to find the new books. But after minutes of searching, there was no result. You were at an open space of the library, the middle of it all. You could see every isle and bookshelf from here. You were about to turn to the same isle in which you had come back from when you see a young man sitting at a table. For a split second, you could've sworn that everyone had heard your heart drop. You take a good look at him and see that it's him. The only quiet worker in the library.

His eyes were focused on the laptop screen in front of him, gaze piercing. The man was like a character from the books you've read. But except, he was real. His long slender fingers worked on the keyword, fingertips gently tapping the keys. He had dark hair that framed his slim face, strands of ink hair falling over his glasses. Lips glossed by his tongue, full and almost the same shade of pink like his tongue. He was wearing a white cotton t-shirt, black trousers, and over his t-shirt, a dark blue denim jacket. This man was literally the personification of every single male lead of every book imaginable.

Should I ask him? You ask yourself.

Your mind was pondering whether you should go up to him and ask him for help. Meanwhile your brain was working, your legs were already walking towards him. You wanted to scream at your legs to stop taking action but you now find yourself standing in front of this man. You look down at him, lips quivering as you finally muster the courage to ask. Your heart crept lower, you slowly start to think that your heart is now lying on the ground from the heavy weight you feel on your chest.

"Uhm, excuse me?" You try to get his attention. "Do you know where the new books are?"

And so, you stand there looking like a fucking idiot when the guy doesn't even move a muscle. Your cheeks start to feel hot as you reach out to tap the wood of the table with your fingernail. "Hey. . ."

You suddenly jolt when you hear a soft "huh" coming from the man. The man's eyes were wide, taking something out of his right ear. It was an airpod. His cheeks were a bright red, actually, his whole face red. A pair of dark brown eyes were now locked on you, trembling. Your eyes locked for a second until you hear the loud music coming from his airpod. It was Chase Atlantic's "The Walls". You watch him fumble with his laptop and earbuds, trying to stop the music from playing. When the music stopped, his eyes went back to you.

"W-What do you n-need?" He stuttered, his eyes were now avoiding yours.

"I was wondering if you could help me find the new released books." You answer coyly.

The bashful boy looks at you and nods, rising from his chair. When he stands, he towers over you. He walked past you, catching a whiff of his perfume. You followed him through a long path until you stopped at bookshelf. The boy had his finger up in the air, you looked up and see a sign 'new releases'. You bite your lip, heat creeping up your neck out of the embarrassment. You wanted to run away for looking stupid in front of such an attractive man. But you remained silent, a shy smile on your lips.

You turn to the bookshelf of the new releases and start searching for a book. You wanted to keep your mind away from the quiet stranger, so you kept yourself occupied by looking for a book. Your fingers traced the spines of the books, gentle with them as if each book was a piece of glass. You find a book that catches your eye and reach out to grab it. But when you reach out, another hand reaches for the book as well. Your hands grazed each others, warmth surrounding the side of your hand.

You quickly remove your hand with a sharp gasp. You let the boy take the book, your eyes staring at his fingers. His long fingers clasped around the spine, his pointer finger was extended out. A rose tattoo wrapped around the finger of his right hand, reaching close to the knuckle of his thumb. You find yourself staring a bit too hard to even notice that the book was being handed to you. As soon as your hands reached for the book, a soft chuckle was heard. You look up and see him smiling gently.

"Heeseung. My name is Lee Heeseung." You hear him say, his voice slow and careful.

You stare at him, heat rising across your face. "My name is Y/N."

Heeseung nods in acknowledgment, the corners of his lips quivering as he tried to contain his smile from you. He motioned you to follow him, taking you to the check out desk. When you reach the desk, Heeseung walks behind the desk and checks the book out for you. He is quietly working on the book, stamping the return date on the back of the last page. When he finishes, he returns the book to you with a sheepish smile.

"I didn't think you were into these books." He tells you softly, looking at you with this look inside his eyes that made you freeze.

"I'm sorry?" You ask, feeling flustered.

You looked back at the book and read the title, "Toxic". It was by a New York Times best selling author, Nicole Blanchard. The book was a dark romance book that tied with obsession, passion, and secret desires. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip, chewing gently as you feel your cheeks warm. You hold the book closely to you and wait for Heeseung's response. He looks at the book and back at you.

"I mean–I didn't think that you would be into dark romance." Heeseung tried to explain himself.

"I'm really not a fan." You say, shrugging.

"What's your favorite genre?" Heeseung suddenly asks you, his voice soft.

"I like slow burn romance." You reply, your fingers grasping the book.

Heeseung walked around the desk to face you. "You should give this book a try. You'll never want to put the book down."

You nod and watch him go back to his work space. Your eyes are on Heeseung for a few seconds, your thoughts running. You shake away your thoughts and find a seat. When you find your seat, you open the book and begin reading. As you read, you couldn't help but feel immersed by every word in the book. Each word made your skin tingle, heat enveloping around your neck and slowly creeping up your toes. It was only you and your book, everything else fell away. But it all came to an end when you hear a voice.

"Y/N, i-it's time for me to close the library." Heeseung told you as he held a pair of keys inside his hand.

Your eyes snap up to see Heeseung by the door, looking at you. When you turn and look at your surroundings, you notice that there was no other soul inside the library except you. Every single light had been turned off except the light hanging above you. You look over to the window and see that the sky was now dark and taunting you. A soft sigh left your lips, it happened again. You had lost yourself in the pages of your book that you hadn't checked the time.

You get up from your chair and start gathering your belongings. When you gather all of your things, you approach the door where Heeseung stood nearby. "I'm so sorry."

Heeseung only smiled and let you walk before him outside the library. He locked the library doors and sees you walking ahead of him. You walk away without saying goodbye, your heart was pounding inside your chest and you couldn't think straight. Your legs took you far to reach your house. And when you reached your house, you ran up the stairs and plopped yourself on your bed. You open your laptop and create a new blog post. Your fingers started to write your minds thoughts, cheeks burning profusely. You couldn't stop think about Heeseung. He was inside your head, unveiling unknown desires inside you that you never knew you had.

Today, I finally spoke to the boy who works at my local library. When I first saw him, I couldn't help but feel this attraction. He pulled me inside and now, I can't get him out of my head. Ever since I saw him a few months ago, he's all I think about.

I think about his scent. It's a warm musk scent that lingers on me, at least I think it does. The scent evokes memories of the ocean. It lingers subtly, yet profoundly coming. The lingering slowly grows and gives into a warm and deep musk. His scent is almost intoxicating, it makes me want to be closer to him.

I also think about his eyes. He has these large doe eyes that appear to be pleading for something. They are dark and alluring. And his lips, oh. . . God. His lips are breathtaking, full and inviting. They are a contrast of soft and intense, promising tenderness and unspoken desires.

Everything about him is tempting.

You let out a long sigh, your whole body relaxed as you let out all of your pending thoughts of the day. Slowly, your eyes became heavy and your whole body gave into the comforting scent of the clean bedsheets and coolness of the pillow below your head that melted the heat away from your skin. As you slept, the night continued. Your laptop remained open, the screen was still on. A notification filled your room, it was a comment on your recent blog.

If you're being tempted. . . would you still go to him? If I were you, I would let myself be tempted and not resist such a fatal attraction. — commented by darkr0ses_

[misguidedasgardian]

The Hour of the Wolf (11)

XI. A ray of sunlight

MASTERLIST

Summary: You never thought you could feel like this 

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats,arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, might miss some warnings, brestfeeding on this chapter

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,4 k 

Notes: Alright… sorry for the confusion… There were three ravens, Reader first wrote to Cregan to confess to him that she was pregnant and she wanted him back and whatnot… that raven GOT LOST, got eaten by a snake… idk… she then received a raven from Cregan, who, as he never received anything, he wrote to her telling her he was fine and he would like her to visit him up North, reader thought he received the letter, and didn’t care, and it was answering to it, so she just wrote a letter telling him she couldn’t make the journey, that’s it!

“Look at him”, you whispered, “he is perfect”, you admired his beautiful round face, his perfect little nose, his long eyelashes, his round squishy cheeks

“He is”, Cregan whispered, kissing your temple, “you had done so beautifully, my sweet Queen”, you looked into his eyes and you found content, and pride

But your eyes returned to your baby, your dragonling.

He had silver hair, beautiful silver hair, just like yours, and then when he barely open his eyes, he revealed them to be icy gray, like his father

He was so perfect, a perfect Targaryen Prince

The blood of Old Valyria and the blood of the first men run through his little veins.

You were so, so proud of him, of yourself, you had every maester check his health, and they all agreed, that the New Prince of Dragonstone was healthy, strong, and, as he had proven to you, had a strong set of lungs in him.

“My love”, called Cregan, but you only hummed, not letting your eyes wander from your newborn son, “there is people wanting to meet him”, he said softly, it was the middle of the next day, and you wanted to savor your alone time with him a little longer.

“Later”, you said simply

“They had been waiting since yesterday”, he said, kissing the top of your head again, “and we need a name”

“I just gave birth, can’t they please leave me alone for a bit?”, you asked, softly but angrily 

“This baby is the next ruler of the seven Kingdoms”, he said softly, “there are protocols…”, you looked at him severely

“Bring in my brother and Jahaera”, you conceded, he barely nodded, and went away, giving you a breath of relief. You didn’t want anyone else but your family in here

The children entered with big, curious, scared eyes, when they landed on you, they came to your side quickly, Aegon was sure to be right there next to you, to catch the closest and first look at his baby nephew

“He is a bit red”, it’s the first thing he mumbled, making you giggle

“He was just born”, you whispered, “it’s normal”, you explained softly, Jahaera didn’t say anything, but looked at the baby with big ghostly eyes, and for the very first time, you thought you catched a glimpse of a smile

“Jahaera? want to hold him?”, she seemed truly surprised, you just patted the bed right next to you, and she climbed to your side, when she was settled, you placed your baby in her arms, she seemed content, only watching him in her frail arms

“He is small”, she murmured, you only smiled, he was a bit small, and… “made of ice and fire”, she whispered

“What?”, you asked, but you were interrupted when Cregan opened the door, he stood there, with a warm smile on his face. 

You didn’t even know how you were going to name him, I mean, you had some ideas, and you were not even going to ask your husband, he, your firstborn, was of the realm, of the Iron Throne, he had to have a name of Old Valyria

Jahaera excuse herself, she had a lesson with her septa, but Aegon stayed, sitting there in the bed by your side, Cregan had left to gather the court

“Can I ask you something?”, your baby brother asked 

“Anything”, you answered truthfully

“Now that you have a son… will you… will you still love me the same?”, he asked, and his big eyes told you he was extremely worried. That truly surprised you, but you smiled softly nonetheless.

“Of course!”, you said with a big smile, “you are my baby brother, I will never stop loving you, and I will never stop caring for you, you heard me? you are stuck with me, and your little nephew for life”, you giggled

“Really?”, he asked, hopefully

“I promise”, you assured him.

Cregan came back, thinking he had given you enough time, Aegon as he saw him, he excused himself from the room, and left

“A name, wife”, he demanded. He was the father, but he is letting you name your child, the prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne

“Aerion”, you said with your son back in your arms, “of House Stark, until he ascends the Throne, as Aerion Targaryen”, you said firmly

“Good”, he said, “the small council is waiting”, he said, and again, he did not expect a no for an answer

“Very well”, he received your son, as you stood from the bed, the maids had placed you the “looser” dress you had, but not less impressive than any others, it was soft red velvet, with black and gold details. Your hair is barely arranged by two small braids arranging it off your face.

You barely let the maids touch your child, but they had dressed him too, in a simple golden attire. He was sleeping in his father’s arms, and you held onto him too, as you walked the hallways.

You had to present your son to the court

Not letting them see him, would awaken all sorts of gossip, that maybe there was something wrong with him, or he was weak, or any nonsense like that, this was going to make it clear to everyone…

The House of the Dragon stood strong, with you, your son, your brother, and your niece.

Especially with the silver hair on his head.

“You have done beautifully, wife”, Your husband said, as he saw you pondering, with your eyes lost in front of you

“Thank you husband”, you answered simply

You were already tired as you reached the huge doors, you hoped you didn’t have to sit on the throne today, you didn’t think you could handle it. You were still really sensitive.

“Lady (y/n) of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Roynar and the first Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the Realm, and her Lord Husband Cregan, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and Hand to the Queen, would like to present to the court, Aerion, of House Targaryen and Stark, Prince of Dragonstone!”, you might as well announce it now, the shocked faces appeared before you, your son was the heir, and next King of the Seven Kingdoms.

The huge doors of the entrance of the throne room opened in front of you, you tried to smile as the entire court, your court, tried their best they could to catch a glimpse of the sleeping Prince in Cregan’s arms

You walked slowly to the front, smiling and nodding to everyone on their way

All the Lords and Ladies nodded at you, muttering words of kindness

“Congratulations my Queen”

“What a fine Prince your grace!”

“You had been blessed, and you had blessed us all”

And more

So much more

Your council had been waiting for your approval, to start the celebrations, feasts, tournaments, parties, the first ones since the end of the war

“Behold! Prince Aerion of House Targaryen and Stark!”, chanted Arryk, you faithful Queen’s guard. 

It was a tiring affair, you should be resting, and Cregan thought so as well, but you you a Queen, and if you wished to prove those who wouldn’t see your mother on the throne wrong, you have to stand there, with your newborn son, in front of the court as you barely gave birth the day before as the sun was setting 

“In the celebrations of the birth of my son, I announce a big tournament, to join all countries as one, and also, a big feast to go with it!”, you said loudly, and the entire room bursted in cheers and applause, making Aerion cry angrily, as he was startled by the loud noise

Cregan smiled grabbing him carefully with his strong hands and showed him to the entire room, shortly, then he cuddled him into his strong chest, he looked so proud 

The tournament was going to be held in two months time

This was a new era, you constantly had to be remained of

The kingdoms were still healing, you were still healing… you need this, you did

You were finally “allowed” to go back to your rooms, you dismissed the nannies who had offered to take your baby.

It was normal and customary, that you had a small army of women ready to take care of your child, but you didn’t want to let him out of your sight

Is not that you didn't trust them, it was just…

It felt odd

To be apart from him

You had them bring a crib by the side of your bed, as you watched him asleep tears fell down your eyes… oh how you wished your mother was there with you

You had cried for her in the middle of labor, how you needed her warmth, her maternity, her advice, all of her. She was an excellent mother, she adored each and every one of you, and you didn’t know how you were going to do this without her

You were so lonely

You had dismissed your ladies, and the nurses were unfamiliar to you

Because Aegon the Usurper killed your mother’s nurses when he took Dragonstone

You felt so lonely.

The all familiar pain that had installed on your chest came flourishing back again, and you realized it had never left, you just grown accustomed to it

Would she be proud of you?

You imagined your brothers coming to see your son, Jacaerys picking him up from his crib and raising him in his strong arms, you imagined Luke grabbing onto Aerion with gentle hands, accommodating him on his chest with his beautiful smile looking down at his nephew 

The guards outside your room presented Cregan who entered the room with scrolls on his hands

“Letters, from your cousins Baela and Rhaena, and one from Lord Co…”

“Dispose of them”, you demanded, you didn’t care

“But…”

“I don’t care what those traitors have to say”, you said bluntly, he had caught you in a wrong moment

“Wife…”, he started carefully, “may I ask why…?”,  he asked simply, you guessed he wanted to hear your version of the facts

“Corlys Velaryon served my mother, until it suited him, when the ship was sinking, in the moment my mother needed him the most, he betrayed her, then served the usurper!”, you said bluntly

“He probably was the one who poisoned the usurper”, he said softly

“I guess, it didn’t suit him to keep serving him, I don’t care”, you said angrily, “if he had stayed at my mother’s side like he promised perhaps she would still be here”, you said, you could not forgive him, you wouldn’t allow yourself to

And Baela and Rhaena?

It just hurt too much

At one point they were like your sisters, like real sisters, you had lived together since your mother married Daemon, and… now it just hurts too much. They say Rhaena managed to hatch a dragon, a pink little thing

Good for her

But it just… it hurts… of all the people that could have survived… 

You felt guilty for only thinking about it

They were more Corlys Velaryon’s granddaughters that they were your sisters

“Can I read them?”, he asked, you looked at him

You wanted to say no, you did, but you were also terribly curious

Of what they might want or say… What if was indeed something important? and really, it was Cregan, he was the only one you trusted fully

“Yes”, you said shortly, “let me know if there is something important”. He sat by the window, to read the letter by the sunlight, Aerion began to get fuzzy, so you grabbed him gently and started to feed him

Something very frowned upon

Not even your mother had breastfeed her babies

But to your understanding… who better to feed a future King… than a Queen? his mother? You paid it no more mind as he latched onto you, Cregan didn’t even batted an eye

He was frowning a he read the missives 

“Is there something they need?”, you asked dismissively, “a threat to our Kingdom?”

“No”, he said simply, “just a call for you, their sister”, he said, he folded the letters and put them away, then he opened the one of Lord Corlys

“They wish you the best regarding the birth of your child and Prince of Dragonstone, and they wish to know that if there is anything they can do for you”

“No requests… that’s a new one”, you said sadly 

“Please, help me understand”, he pleaded once again, “what are you thinking?”

“They just keep wanting the fucking throne”, you said bitterly, “that is all this whole thing had been about, the Hightowers and Velaryons alike, each for their own side, sunk their teeth into the targaryen of their choice and bit, ripped and tear them apart for their own convenience, for the fucking throne, killing my entire family in the process, I am done with them”, you sentenced. 

“Very well”, he said, “I will stand by you”

“Thanks”, you said smiling softly, not wanting to discuss the issue further

Even if they were true, that they only were calling for you, their “granddaughter” and sister, how could you ever trust that? if you were not seated on the throne, would they still care for you?

You were convinced they only wanting to fall back into your good graces, the graces of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and everything that meant

And the very fact that they knew about the birth of your son so soon unnerved you.

Of course they had spies inside the castle

Perhaps you should burn the letters publicly so words get to them

But it was of no consequence, because that very day, Cregan received important news

His son was arriving

He was in the Crossroads Inn, and he was dying to go and meet him

You allowed him to go with a small force, you had never seen him so happy and excited. He was on his way to meet his son

And taking advantage of that fact, that was going to take him a few days… You realized, thinking about Rhaena… 

Your son needed his egg

You had felt Vhaelar restless, and you needed to know if she had laid her clutch of eggs, or, egg

Singular

The very thought frightened you, what if it didn’t hatch? She as well could be the last Dragon, a grown, fertile dragon. You called in a Dragon keeper immediately, and he presented in front of you, the one that went inside the cave with you, the only one who could get close to your Dragon

“This is long overdue, your Grace”, he said with a soft smile

“I cannot go down there myself”, you explained softly, his face then changed. “What's the matter?”, you asked him

“Vhaelar laid eggs, we didn’t know how many, when the prince was born we adventure into the cave to find… one is gone”, it seemed like everything froze around you

“What?”, you asked

“One of the nests was… broken into”, he said

“Why wasn't I informed of this!?”, you asked angrily

“We found it this very morning”, he said quickly

“Raised alarms!”, you said

“The one that stole it… didn’t realize, she laid two eggs”, he gave a signal to Erryk who was at the door and he opened them to reveal two more Dragon Keeper, that brought with them the heating chamber

A sight you never thought you’d see again

They revealed the egg to you, and tears were brought to your eyes, it was golden, golden like the sun

Was it an Omen? Golden like Syrax… Golden like Sunfyre

Who could have possibly stolen my dragon’s egg?”, you asked him

We don’t know your grace, it must have been someone who knows the area, that its been heavily guarded, even though its against the sea, you had maintain guards around it, and over it, so we can’t understand…”, you kept quiet, you could barely go up stairs, you couldn’t go personally.

That is why she was so restless

Somebody stole her egg

“What if it hatches?”, you asked him, fright in your eyes, he didn’t know what to answer

“A dragon will only answer to a Targaryen your grace, in the worst case, it will grow wild, until we can finally know where it is”

“And in the best case?”

“It’s not normal for two eggs to hatch in the same clutch”, he said softly, “if the Prince’s egg hatches… then… someone still had a treasure in their hands but at least, it will not be a dragon”

It did not settle your nerves

You saw the beautiful egg, it seemed to move, you could feel it, the life within it

“Thank you”, you said finally, and they left you alone.

It wasn’t until a week later, as you fixed the skirt on your dress, that you finally realized how important this was.

Rickon Stark, Cregan’s son, was entering the city

Your husband’s child

Your own child, by marriage

A sweet boy of eight

Soldiers entered in front of the comitive, mounted men with the Stark sigil, and then, right after them, Cregan in all his glory, and at his side, on his own horse, a young boy, that even from afar, you could tell he looked exactly like Cregan, same shade of hair, and as they dismounted and walked towards you, you realized, he had his eyes

“Your Grace, my I present to you, my son and heir, Rickon Stark”, presented Cregan

“Your grace”, the boy greeted politely, his big eyes looking at you widely, even though he bowed. Cregan was by his side, looking at his son proudly

“My Lord, you are most welcomed to King’s landing, and to the Red Keep”, you greeted, amused, he smiled shyly.

“Thank you, your grace”, he looked at you with mistrust, and you could understand him, all of this was new for him.

You of course invited them in, the entire household he had brought with him was large, but, the more the merrier, and if having more of his people with him was going to make Cregan and RIckon feel more comfortable, they were most welcomed.

“There is someone I want you to meet”, you said happily, he only nodded, you looked at Cregan as you walked back to your chambers, and he seemed content, “Can I call you Rickon?”, you asked him softly

“Yes your Grace, of course”, he said simply

“Are you my new mommy?”, he asked bluntly, and you looked at Cregan, alarmed, he was amused, but didn’t say anything, you then looked back at the boy who was looking up at you with his big ghostly eyes

“I don’t have to be if you don’t want me to”, you said gently, and that seemed to relax him a bit, “but there is a place I’d like you to fill”, you said with a solemn voice, like you were requesting of him, you opened yourself the double doors to your room

“Which one, your grace?”, he asked solemnly

“How about.. big brother?”, you asked, inviting him to look inside the cradle where his baby brother was sleeping peacefully

“I’d like that”, he said, pleased, but frowned at further inspection of your baby, “why is his hair white?”, he asked, you giggled

“Because he got it from me”, you said softly

“I thought you had white hair because you were old”, he said simply, and you laughed, hard

The sound of your own laugh seemed so foreign to you

You haven't laughed in…

In…

In a long time

“No, no my dear, I was born with my hair like this”, you explained softly, he only nodded, understanding clearly, “so… are you going to be Aerion’s big brother?”, you asked, and he looked at you with a true smile for the very first time, and nodded excitedly

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog @aesthetic0cherryblossom @arrozyfrijoles23 @sacredmachine @wintfleur @kitkat-writes-stuff @green-lxght

[grlsinterrupted]

boys dont cry .. ☘︎ ݁˖ ⟢

patching up johnny | injured ! johnny cade x gn ! reader . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

-

the sun is blazing over tulsa, its heat practically searing you into a big ol’ pile of sweat as you wander the city’s outskirts. one hand is pocketed into your white shorts while the other is holding a waffle cone with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, not a care in the world except for how you were going to find your way back home. just as your tongue sweeps against your ice cream, your gaze meets the figure of what seems to be a rather skinny boy sleeping in the abandoned lot— his hair is tousled, greasy, and he looks fairly peaceful in his sleep despite the amount of bruises and cuts scattered along his skin.

you decide to explore further, curious as to who this boy in particular was and why he was there in the first place. it felt as if you were naturally drawn to this boy, your feet automatically moving towards his direction. something about him intrigued— the best way you could describe his features was that he looked like a stray puppy that’d been through hell and back.

as the distance between the two of you slowly closed, you finally were able to decipher who’s face this belonged to.

johnny cade, a member of the infamous curtis gang.

though he wasn’t as notorious as the other members of his gang, you were still advised by many to stay wary of him and and his entire circle. they were known for causing trouble all around tulsa, and especially for their rumbles with the socs over on the west side of town.

“‘scuse me, you okay?” you crouch down to johnny’s level, brushing a strand of his greased hair back to the side. you gently pat him awake, careful not to accidentally graze your hand against any of his bruises.

johnny lets out a low groan, slowly sitting up and wiping his eyes. he looks startled by the way you suddenly approached him out of nowhere. he hesitantly nods, pushing back his shaggy hair.

“i’m okay, just a few cuts here and there,” he mutters, his voice trembling with every word. his tone was woven with a sense of paranoia and fear.

you raise an eyebrow at his response, your eyes darting around each and every one of his scars. your gaze trails down the pocket of his jean jacket, the reflection of his switchblade glistening against the sunlight. johnny fidgets with his ring in an anxious matter, toying with the skull signet.

”you should come with me, i’ll get you all patched up.”

johnny huffs out a humorless chuckle. “no, i really don’t mean to bother you, it’s fi-“

“just come, it’s really no hassle,” you say as you offer his hand, your lips curled into a soft smile. he reluctantly takes your hand before you lift him up with ease.

johnny winces as you wrap the bandage over his arm. his entire body was tensed up— it seems as though he was never really treated with such care before in his life. your touch was gentle, every single movement made with intense caution.

“this too tight?” you asked, placing a pair of scissors between the bandage.

johnny shook his head. for the entirety of the time you spent patching him up, you noticed that he was completely silent and still, patiently waiting for your next move. you decide to break the silence between the two of you with a question.

“so, what happened to you? why’ve you got all these cuts?” it seems as though your question has intensified the tension in the air— it was kind of a personal question to ask, anyway. you clear your throat, cutting off the excess bandage.

“that was a stupid question to ask, you don’t have to ans-“ johnny cuts you off.

“my folks. got into a fight with them last night, so i just slept in the lot. didn’t feel like dealing with them, you know?” he trembled over his words, his voice slightly cracking. that was when you realized that he’d been holding back tears the entire time.

you gulp, nodding with your full attention and sympathy. you couldn’t imagine what life was like for a poor soul like johnny— he seemed frightened of his own shadow. your attention shifts back to mending his wounds. you hand him an ice pack, letting out a deep exhale as you stand up from the pavement. “leave this on the bruise on your forehead for a couple hours, okay?” johnny nods, standing up with you. you can sense the glint of conflict in his eyes, as if he’s trying to make up his mind about something. just before he makes his departure, he wraps his arms around you for a warm embrace.

“thank you,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. you can’t help but smile as his hold tightens, johnny’s tears seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

’i try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies.. i try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes ‘cause boys don’t cry’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[moodymisty]

So I'm suffering from life threatening levels of Perturabo brainrot and got a lil scenario idea stuck in my head while I was taking a shower: One of the serfs that does mundane housekeeping tasks throws all self-preservation aside when a curious little contraption Perty made catches her attention while she's tidying his quarters. It's a harmless trinket he made in his spare time, a clever little puzzle box, and she can't resist the urge to get a closer look.. Cue Perturabo catching her touching things she shouldn't be touching. He feels a flash of anger, but its quickly doused by the look of genuine wonder and awe at something he made simply as a mundane time-waster between campaigns. When she notices him in the doorway staring(glaring) at her, it's like being doused in ice water and she hurriedly sets the trinket down and apologizes profusely as she scurries away. Over the next few weeks, Serf quietly fears for her life due to her impropriety.. While Perty decides he wants to see that look again and sets about making a little courting gift - a music box that plays a lullaby/tune that is popular on Olympia.

Sorry if this is way too specific, you can change whatever you'd like about it to fit your tastes!

PS: I love your writing style so, so, much. Thank you for all you've created and shared with us 💕

Author's note: I like the idea! I changed it a teeeny tiny bit, but only because I didn't want it to run on into a massive block of text. Enjoy, here's some Perty meetcute.

Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!reader

Warnings: Not really any other than Perturabo's attitude

Returning to his private workshop Perturabo can tell by the door being slightly ajar that someone is inside cleaning it, and opens it fully to let himself in. Out of his armor he's wrapped up in clothing more suitable for the cool evening, walking underneath the dimmed lights.

He's always hated bright rooms; The few windows in this room provide enough sunlight during the day to work, and at night to keep it bright enough to work but dim enough to avoid a headache.

Not long after entering he notices your form in the corner, picking something up off the floor. He pays no mind and walks past, completely ignoring your presence other than that momentary glance. He's seen you before; You're usually the one cleaning the innermost parts of his chambers like this workshop. Perhaps you're the only one brave enough, and the only one that hasn't gotten thrown out for being in his way.

Sitting down the chair creaks in complaint but he ignores it, leaning forward over his desk. For awhile he simply glosses over his designs, old and new blueprints with a lack of interest, before his eyes wander away from it all. They're all just improvements for already existing war machines, nothing that keeps his attention for long.

He sees you now working on cleaning an area close to where some of his smaller projects are sitting, collecting dust, but he can tell as you clean one in particular has caught your eye.

It's the old puzzle box he had made when he was far younger; It's simplicity makes him scoff now in shame of his less experienced hands so long ago. Though even then, it far exceeded what anyone on Olympia could dream of making. Perhaps that's why it caught your eye, a stand out among little automatas, music boxes and miniatures.

He sees you looking at it, curiously gazing over the pieces that interlock together. It seems like you're trying to figure it out in your head rather than picking it up and risk his anger. You don't notice his gaze on you, his brow still furrowed but not in anger- deep set eyes hooded in lazy curiosity.

Once you either give up trying to figure it out or realize you need to return to your work you turn away from the box, but your sleeve accidentally catches on the sharp edge of the metal. It shifts and falls off the table, thinking that you're moving it as if attempting to solve it. You uncharacteristically swear, and snatch the box out of the air before it hits the ground.

You look at Perturabo momentarily and see him watching you, and he can see you swallow the knot in your throat. Your back straightens as you look away and towards the puzzle box in your hands, fingers brushing over it as you make sure it's unharmed.

With a grunt of effort Perturabo gets up out of his chair, and he sees you noticeably freeze up at the fear of his approach.

"You're supposed to turn it."

You look up at him surprised for a moment, before looking down at the box again. It's large in your hands, he'd scaled it for his own, but you're still able to fiddle with the mechanisms with little issue. He watches your eyebrows raise as you gain understanding.

"Oh, I see."

He hears the soft clink of one of the mechanisms inside unlocking- he knows there's four left. Your eyes are locked on it trying to figure out the system, and he can see you're making progress, faster than he might've expected you to. He doesn't stop you because of it; He's curious how far you can get.

You stop about halfway to figuring out the next part, and slowly go to place it back onto the shelf where it had been collecting dust.

"I think this would take me quite awhile to s-" Perturabo jerks his chin slightly towards you.

"Keep it."

You look at him wide eyed, and pull back from the shelf to continue holding it in your hands.

"It stopped amusing me long ago."

You thanked him for it, with a soft and sweet smile that made his nose wrinkle, and you got little more than a grunt in response before you finished your duties and left him in silence.

You returned the finished box to him three days later, opened. Perturabo, amused by it, had plucked another puzzle box he'd made in one of his moments of particularly sour moue off a high shelf, and handed that one to you. You'd returned it six days later, solved.

You had detoured from your assigned tasks to return it to him, and left shortly there after. Your hands had barely closed the door behind him before he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and started to draft a new one, the first he'd be making in many years, something finally keeping his mind busy as he glossed over his old and forgotten creation to make this new one.

He had noticed your tiny fingerprints on the metal one time he'd looked up, pen stopping for a moment as he stared at them before returning to his work.

He's not here today, you notice.

The workshop is empty, though you aren't entirely surprised. The Iron Blood left port this last week, and you assume Perturabo went along with it.

What is surprising is that quite quickly you notice that there's something set out on his desk, in clear view. There's parchment being weighed down by it and you can't help but take a look, having to near climb from how high the tabletop is.

It's yet another puzzle box, you quickly realize. You pull the parchment with it and read the few words at the center of it.

This one should keep you entertained for awhile.

That's all it says, sitting the parchment back down and turning your full attention to the box instead.

It's significantly more ornate than any of the previous ones he'd given you, and still smells of oils and greases presumably from it's recent creation. The puzzle itself seems far more in-depth than the previous ones as well, and you can't help but smile at the realization that he's trying to stump you on purpose. Your fingertips brush over the etchings of symbols and the decorative grooves; He clearly spent a lot of time on this one.

You hold it close before sitting it down, and get to work cleaning. You keep a consistent schedule in this room so there isn't much to be done, and once you finish you're able to take the puzzle box back to your personal quarters and begin figuring it out.

Perturabo seemed to spare no expense in figuring out how to make this one more difficult, having to do puzzles to figure out parts of another puzzle. It takes you well over three weeks to figure out, slowly working at it between your work.

Once you crack it open, you're so excited you barely even realize there's something inside, pulling out the folded parchment. When you unfold it, you notice something that falls into your lap. A necklace.

You weren't exactly allowed to wear jewelry, it got in the way, but you suppose if it came from Lord Perturabo, none of your superiors could complain.

Putting the necklace around your neck you read the words on the parchment, pursing your lips. Your cheeks feel slightly warmer as well, realizing that you're holding something the primarch crafted specifically for you, and now you have not one, but two handwritten letters from him.

Perhaps they're quite short letters, but you count them anyways. Lord Perturabo has never been the wordy sort.

Meet me in my workshop the day the Iron Blood returns to port.

You wonder if Perturabo has always been this roundabout and obtuse. Or if he's for some reason toying with your odd knack for puzzles. You suppose he's bored, he seems to have plans for abandoned ideas all around his workshop. Bathhouses and ornate buildings, unfinished and pushed aside for efficient weapons of war.

You're glad you managed to open it before the Iron Blood returned, but just barely; Two days later is when it- he, returns, and you meet him in his workshop.

He turns to you, wearing lighter clothing given the warm weather. The sun is just starting to set however, the sky turning orange and purple. You notice he's grown a slight bit of stubble on his jawline since returning, and that his expression is surprisingly relaxed.

"How long did it take you?"

He says with not even a hello. Though you suppose you don't really need one.

"I finished it two nights ago. Just barely made it, it seems." He chuckles, much to your surprise. It's a deep rumble you can feel in your chest, and makes you swallow at the feeling of your heartbeat up in your collarbone.

"It seems they'll need to be even more complicated in order to slow you."

You notice his eyes look away from your face and down to your collarbone. The necklace is what caught his eye, you can only guess. you've been wearing it nonstop since you got it. His hand reaches down to grasp the pendant that hangs from it between his two fingers, before he lets it go moments later.

You wonder if perhaps it meant something a bit deeper than what you'd thought at first glance. He wouldn't just give out such ornately made things for no reason. Your face grows a bit warm at the sudden realization that you'd completely overlooked the implication of a man, a primarch, giving such a gift to a woman, but Perturabo either doesn't notice, or doesn't care.

"Sit with me. And tell me your name."

There's a chair beside his own that is similar in size to his own, though vastly oversized for you. You sit down in it and pull your legs up onto the chair and curl them to your side. Then you put your hands on your lap and look towards him and start talking, beginning into a conversation that leads well into the night.

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

warnings: Soobin and reader share a bath together but it’s just fluff note: I hope we’ve got some Swifties here! inspired by Paris by Taylor Swift. I've listened to it a thousand times but one day it prompted this idea.

☆ gender neutral reader

TXT member Choi Beomgyu spotted out and about with a date!

When the photos hit the internet, you weren't even in the country. Neither you or Soobin saw the articles, the tweets, messages from the band's management, or even teasing texts from the members. You were so far removed from it all, and blissfully happy.

It was the longest vacation you'd had together, with Soobin finally having the time off to travel out of Seoul. Sure, you'd gone with the boys for tours when allowed, but it was finally just you and your boyfriend – in a place where he wouldn't be recognised, and with no work schedules to squeeze time together around.

For the first couple of days, you didn't leave the hotel room, the 'Do Not Disturb' sign a blessing. No early calls, no waking up to knocks on the door or an empty bed. Just sleeping in, waking up and ordering lunch, then napping together or watching a movie. You didn't even mind the jet lag; it was a good excuse to stay in bed and cuddle.

On the fourth day of your stay, you explored the hotel, making it to the in-house restaurant for breakfast. The place was quiet – off season at this time of year, the waitress explained. There was a moment where you thought she recognised Soobin, with the way her eyes kept flicking up and between the two of you as she wrote down your order, but then, as she leant down to take your menus, she smiled and made a comment about how cute of couple you were. Soobin grinned, half shy and half proud, reaching for your hand and placing a kiss to the skin as you were left to yourselves again.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎☆

It's a change of pace to walk around the city and not have phones pointed at Soobin. To not hear screams or gasps or whispers at every turn. The two of you wander freely, sans masks or dark sunglasses, in the light of day. There's plenty of time to dawdle, enjoying the sights, going wherever you're drawn to go. The city is beautiful, and shopkeepers and cafe owners greet you with friendly smiles as you stop by.

The freedom Soobin feels is evident in the way he carries himself and how he keeps looking over to grin at you. You find an ice cream parlour and share the dessert on a bench, watching birds and clouds, the occasional person passing by with a cute dog that you both get excited over. When you move to get up, Soobin grabs your hand and tugs you back to his side, wrapping an arm around you with a chuckle. The sunlight and cool breeze lull you into a somewhat tranquil state. You don't think about home or what's to come after this retreat from real life. Meandering back to the hotel as the sun is setting, you catch a mesmerising sunset from the viewpoint of your room's balcony.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ☆

The bath tub in your hotel room is big enough for the both of you – two and a half, you tease at the way your boyfriend's feet stick out over the edge. Still, this was a luxury you never got at home; the tub at both of your addresses too small to fit the two of you at once. And, you point out, it's nice to enjoy a quiet bath without rambunctious maknaes playing doorbell dash in an otherwise quiet hotel. Maknes and Yeonjun, Soobin adds.

He plays quiet music on his phone to add to the atmosphere, humming along softly as he places his hands on your shoulders, applying gentle pressure until he feels the muscles relax. Then, he picks up one of your hands from the edge of the tub to trace with his finger, eyes following the lines of your palm. You watch, almost hypnotised, as his large fingers fold over yours, the rest of you encapsulated between his long arms and legs. Between the low lighting of the bathroom, the warmth of the bath, and his voice, you're sent into a light sleep, only waking when you're pulled from the water, which has turned lukewarm.

You mumble an appoplogy, eyes opening for only a moment before they droop to a close again, and he whispers something back, but you don't take it in; mind and body too relaxed. Feeling the mattress underneath you as he sets you down on your back, you sense something being wrapped around you and realise it's one of the hotel robes, but you can't find the will to help him get your arms into the sleeves. You hear yourself giggle and Soob's chuckle echo back, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment before it's gone, and you wonder why. Thoughts of how much you love this – feeling like you're in your own little world, where there's only the two of you – flood your mind, and you almost start to drift off again until you hear the sheets rustle beside you.

Soobin's hair tickles your jaw as he kisses your neck, arms finding your waist in the dark. His skin is warm and still damp, and this somehow adds to how sleepy you feel. Your arms are too heavy to reach for him. Soon, his movements still, his cheek resting against your collar bone, and you're both out.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ☆

It isn't until you're in the airport, full from breakfast at their swanky little restaurant, and having perused all the little shops to pass time, that Soobin finally sits down and opens his messaging app to flick his members a selfie of the two of you with your luggage and sad faces to say you're on your way back. His eyebrows draw together, lips moving wordlessly as he sees how many unread texts are in the group chat. But not just normal conversation that's been going on without him, as his eyes register your name multiple times. Scrolling back, he finds the first message he hasn't seen – a link to a popular tabloid. The first thing he sees is a candid photo, definitely Beomgyu, and definitely you, though thankfully most of your face is obscured by the shadows of night as you walk from the back door of a stadium to a waiting van. Then he sees the title. The members apparently find it hilarious, but as he backs out of the group chat and sees numerous messages from management and other staff, he knows the company isn't taking it as lightly.

He clicks his phone as you sit down beside him, and despite the storm that he knows is coming, he can't help but smile at how content and loved-up you still look. He decides he'll wait to fill you in, let you enjoy the end of the trip. He himself feels like he's on a love high, his heart warming up as you thread your arm through his and drop your head to his shoulder.

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Lost in the Labyrinth of my Mind | Legolas Greenleaf

▹ Pairing: Legolas x Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Pining

▹ Words: ~4k

▹ Summary: The two times you realized you loved Legolas, and the one time you acted on it.

▹ Notes: I would like a reward, I've posted two times in a year 🙂🙃 But seriously, thank you for all the support and love in my last oneshot, you all had me giggling and twirling my hair with my feet kicked up.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Little has made sense lately.

Thrust into a world so unlike your own everything was disorienting. Now you were living in the world that closely mimicked the Middle Ages you’d only read about. The first year hidden in Imladris had felt like the morning after a jarringly realistic dream. Spots blurred your vision and you were half convinced nothing was even real. In fact, you still weren’t fully convinced this was anything more than a grand delusion. Your memory was spotty and the days passed in a haze, so maybe that's why you volunteered to join the Fellowship as a healer.

It was dangerous, you knew, but those fears were quelled with the notion that death would mean it all had been real afterall. Either you come home a hero or have a firm grasp on what’s reality, even if that’s in death. 

Dawn broke, the sun cresting high in the sky, but it was barely seen over the mountains. They seemed to close in, threatening to crush you and your companions, the falling snow ensuring your bodies would stay on the floor. There was a burn in your legs from the steep incline as the Fellowship hiked up the mountains. Even after a night of restless respite, your body still aches. You wouldn’t falter though, even as the tips of your fingers turned blue and your skin became as cold as ice. As the only woman in the company, you refused to be the one to stop first. Stubborn pride was all that kept you moving forward.

Somewhere in between the hobbits was where you found your spot in the marching order. You were content enough to slide in and out of their conversations, at least, the parts of the conversation that could be heard over the deafening wind. But even their chirper disposition seemed to wilt under the harsh weather that seemed to get worse the higher up the Fellowship got. 

Your eyes slid towards Legolas, a shining gold beacon amongst the frost. His hair was like the last rays of sunlight, the smile on his face as warming as a roaring fire. Seamlessly he weaved between the members of the Fellowship, seemingly unbothered by the snow. His footsteps were so light, he didn’t even leave a footprint in his wake. Unlike your travel companions, he seemed mostly unbothered by the pelting snow and frigid air. The cloak he wore, lighter than yours, seemed to be for show rather than practical use. 

It was obnoxious how distracting he could be. If you weren’t careful, you would stare at him for hours on end, mouth hung open like an idiot. It was humiliating, the amount of times you’d made a fool of yourself while in his presence. The teasing from Elladan and Elrohir had been endless. 

Yet as much as you’d hate to admit it, the flutter of your heart or the giddiness that puts a skip in your step were all sensations you reveled in. Always a hopeless romantic, even as previous partners tarnished your silver-plated optimism, you loved being in love. Except, you weren’t in love, you couldn’t be. And in the depths of night, while the stars hung high and all was quiet you told yourself a million things to convince yourself the crush on Legolas was surface level. You told yourself things like: 

“It was his elven heritage; you just weren’t used to seeing elves.”

“The infatuation and curiosity would dim with time.”

“Most of your life elves were fictional, and now there was one, right before you.”

Those were a few of the lines you told yourself to placate yourself when your mind wandered too close to Legolas, though it never felt very convincing. 

Legolas turned, his bright blue eyes meeting yours. They were so wide and full of wonder, it was hard to believe he was hundreds - if not a couple thousand - years old. He was so youthful and bright, not weighed down from living a million lifetimes. Nothing like his father nor the whispers that followed the King’s name in the corridors of Imladris. Legolas was soft and gentle, careful and perfectly polite to a fault. His father’s disposition may have been winter but Legolas remained the sun that melted the frigid snow. 

A smile blossomed on Legolas’ face, not a single crease appearing on his pale skin. The simple gesture made your heart rate increase to an alarming rate, knots twisting and turning in your stomach. Heat and embarrassment made your cheeks turn flush and you hoped he simply thought it was from the cold.

 You returned a smile, overtly aware of your own appearance and insecurities. You wanted him to think you were as pretty as the elves you’d lived among, but beauty was hard while caught in a snowstorm. Your eyes moved from Legolas, opting to stare at the back of Aragorn’s head, at least until the queasy feeling in your stomach went away. He was so beautiful, and kind, and wonderful, and--

‘Stop. Don’t do that.’ you scold yourself. It wasn’t worth the potential heartbreak to even consider Legolas like that. You were mortal and he was very much not, he would more than likely see you as a lost puppy than a romantic prospect. But despite yourself, you snuck one last glance at Legolas, foolishly hopeful his eyes were still locked on you. They weren’t; he was now in the front with Gandalf, idle and unaware of the turmoil a simple smile from him caused. 

A particularly strong gust of wind hit you, knocking you straight to the ground. The winds were getting fiercer and the snow heavier, how long would this continue before Galdalf admitted defeat and you turned around? 

Wet, cold snow seeped through your clothes. You tried to stand, but found it difficult in the thick layer of snow. Like a clumsy child you kicked and squirmed in an attempt to regain your dignity, but it was all for not. Then a hand appeared in your line of sight, offering your aid. You looked up, Legolas now standing before you with an outstretched hand. Without hesitation you took it, Legolas hauling you back to your feet with little to no effort. 

Even as your body was upright and stable, Legolas’ hand didn’t leave yours. His hands were rough from decades of archery training, but they seemed gentle in yours. His thumb lightly traced shapes over your skin. The action seemed subconscious as Legolas continued to look at you with that bright expression he always wore. 

“Careful my lady, we wouldn’t want you to blow away.” Despite how quiet they were, his words cut through the wind. There was a teasing glimmer in his eyes that seemed to translate to his words. 

You breathed out a laugh, careful to not stare into his eyes too long. Your cheeks became warm again, the red flush of embarrassment making its mark on you. Legolas’ head tilted to the side; concern masked the light mischief lighting up his face. 

“My lady, you must be freezing, especially after a fall into the snow. Here--” 

He didn’t give you time to respond, not that you even could. You were in a trance, enraptured the smell of cedar and bergamot as well as the heat that radiated from his body that was so close to yours. Legolas reached up to the clasp of his cloak and undid it. In a smooth motion, he took the cloak off and draped it over your body. 

“That should help keep you warm in the snow.”

 He smiled at you, sweet and gentle. His disposition was addictive, making a small grin curl on your lips. All too soon, he stepped away from you, sparring you one last glance before approaching Aragorn. Your cheeks remained warm and bright red, the rate of your heart not settling anytime soon. 

You continued to watch him animatley chat with Aragorn, unbothered by the cold even without a cloak. Subconsciously, you pulled the cloak tighter to your body, deeply inhaling his scent that lingered on the fabric. 

Practically floating, you were unaware of the knowing glances the rest of the Fellowship cast your way. All the while, you were lost in thought, trying to intellectualize each butterfly Legolas’ touch created. It was all overwhelming and you almost wanted to throw up. You were shaking and nervous; bright red from head to toe. This felt different than idle crushes and romanticization of complete strangers.

Maybe you were falling in love. 

---

The river languidly flowed, beams of soft light reflecting off the water and creating a thousand little rainbows. The river’s stream was gentle and almost lethargic, it seemed even the Earth was affected by the elves' lack of urgency in life. Lady Galadriel’s power had seeped into the very dirt and from it sprout and ethereal visages in the forest. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this at peace. It must’ve been before your old life had been ripped from you. 

You were alone, fingertips digging into the mud as you stared at the stream. Gandalf was dead. It was a strange thing to constantly remember. At times you would forget, searching for him in the Fellowship only to remember he’d fallen in Moria. There was a pit in your stomach you weren’t familiar with. Greif didn’t feel the way you’d thought it would’ve, not at all the way it was often dramatized in the media. Instead of bright and all encompassing, it was a subtle, slow burn that would eventually swallow you whole if left untempered. 

But you didn’t know how to temper it. 

So it left a dull ache within you, painless enough you’d forget it was there until it suddenly pricked you like a sewing needle. 

But at least you could mourn without the threat of orcs looming over your head. 

“I had hoped to find you.” His voice was carried by the gentle breeze that suddenly came through the clearing. You turned your head, only slightly, just enough to see Legolas’ lithe form standing a little ways away. 

“It’s quiet,” you replied, returning your attention to the water, feeling a need to explain yourself to Legolas, even though his observation wasn’t accusatory. The ground muffled the sound of Legolas’ footsteps, only a soft thump heard with each step. He then took a seat beside you, so quiet it felt like he’d always been there. His eyes were on you, you could feel it, the way his blue eyes bore past your body and into your soul. Elves were far more perceptive than humans, and you could feel the truth to that statement in his gaze. 

“I had thought so as well. I came here our first night in Lothlorien. It made me think of you, I am pleased to see I was correct in that.” He spoke the words so effortlessly, as if he hadn’t just admitted to thinking of you. Or perhaps it was nothing to him, a passing thought in his mind of one of his friends. You didn’t want to just be a friend, but perhaps that was the category you’ll remain.

You turn your head, eye to eye with Legolas. A warm flush appeared on your cheeks, something that seemed permanent when he looked at you with those eyes. The type of wonder and softness that almost made you believe he returned your affections. Yet you didn’t linger on those fantasies for too long, not wanting to potentially be let down. You’d never been very strong in your convictions, something born during childhood that you never managed to shake.

Flighty and fearful as long as danger was near and it was always near; haunting the edges of your vision, a jumpscare waiting around every corner. The worst case scenario had always been accepted as the only plausible scenario; fiction became fact and you wouldn’t accept any other truth. Perhaps Legolas was waiting for a cue from you to make a move, but you were too much of a coward to ever do it. 

So in limbo you would stay, content enough with your friendship while secretly yearning for more. 

“And what about a calm river could make you think of me?” 

You were irrational and emotional, quick to anger and hard to forgive. If anything you were a calamitous tsunami; rough and heavy, dragging everyone in its tide. Nothing like the level headed and logical elves you’d lived around. 

“You’re both a source of peace and beauty,” he responded, a small child-like grin curling on his lips. Your mouth grew dry, brows furrowed in slight disbelief. 

‘He thought I was beautiful?’ 

The thoughts in your mind flew at a thousand miles per hour. There wasn’t one singular train of thought you could latch onto, the ability to speak taken from you. No witty comment fell from your mouth, only a wide eyed stare that suspiciously resembled a doe. 

It seemed to make Legolas falter, a light dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks. He looked away, eyes locked on the river. “I apologize, that came out wrong. I simply meant that while you are attractive, you are also a great friend and I value speaking with you.” He stuttered and stumbled over his words, trailing off at the end. And his voice… it was so prim and proper, it made a few of the butterflies in your stomach turn to dust. “The same way I value the quiet of sitting in this…spot.”

His eyes darted away from your sharpened gaze, scanning the nearby treeline. His nerves seemed suffocating, he’d suddenly become so flighty. Had you made him uncomfortable? Did he see the hearts in your eyes when you looked at him? Had it made him uncomfortable?

The thoughts made you shrink within yourself. The barest hint of hope within you smothered in insecurities and doubt as dark as midnight. Perhaps he hadn’t meant the compliment in the way you wanted. They were only kind words to ease a friend's grief, yet you managed to only hear what you wanted. 

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

You fought against the disappointment, not allowing it to carve its place onto your face. The smile on your face was bright, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. “I’m glad we are friends.” You place your hand on his shoulder, your touch so light he nearly didn’t feel it. 

You half expected him to jump away from your touch as if it burned, but he didn’t. Instead, he met your gaze once more, and the worry muddying his eyes melted away.He gave a slight nod of the head, yet didn’t speak. 

Silence filled the clearing, and you were terrified he might hear your heart pounding against your chest. It became harder to breathe the longer the two of you stayed locked in the impromptu staring contest. The distance between you two was small, and you’d never been so close to him before. Oh god, was he getting closer? Was he leaning towards you? 

There was a slight quiver in your lips, heart slowing to a point you were afraid it wasn’t beating anymore. Palms sweaty, they clung to the blades of grass held captive in your hands. Time stopped, nothing else mattered as you prepared for his lips to touch yours.

Except…

They never did. Legolas pulled back, eyes wide in alarm. He stood, nearly stumbling backwards in his desperation to get away from you. He got to his feet and took two steps away. On the ground you remained, ripping out grass to keep from crying as you saw what you swore was regret crossing his face. 

“I should return to the Fellowship, Aragorn may require me. Until we meet again.” Legolas did an awkward half bow, scurrying away before you could so much as reply. 

Left alone, you let out a heavy breath, that was shuddered with choked sobs. Were you truly that bad he had to flee from you? The wind blew stronger this time, and you rolled your eyes. A few stray tears fell and you let them, there was no one to see you cry like a baby over a man you knew you could never have. 

You couldn’t deny it anymore, try as you might. 

Oh no, you were falling in love.

---

The panic that tore through Helm’s Deep was contagious. 

Ten thousand Uruk-hai would be marching towards you, an army that tripled what little forces the keep could muster. We needed outside help, but there wasn’t time to call for reinforcements. We’d all already be dead by the time they came. 

You tried to not let the fear show, desperate to keep your body steady despite the shaking it was plagued with. Deep breaths were forced as you attempted to keep your breath shallow and uneven. But you couldn’t deny it, even as you did anything and everything to keep your mind. 

You weren’t ready to die. 

Not today, not like this. 

It wouldn’t be swift and painless, it would be drawn out and agonizing; orcs weren’t famous for their mercy. Suffocated by a blanket of despair, you briefly considered offing yourself. There were so many twisting tunnels and a million ways for you to do it. But in the end, as you stared into the desolate eyes of the Rohirrim, you decided against it. If they could face impending doom with grace, then so could you. Yet that didn’t keep the terror from threatening to swallow you whole.

You were numb. 

Stood outside, elves and men began to line up along the wall. There were screams and shouts all around, but it was nothing but white noise in your ears. Across the crowd, your eyes met Legolas’. His lips were downturned and his eyes were tired; Legolas was just as terrified as you. 

You weren’t sure who moved first, but within a blink the two of you began to move towards one another. The crowd was thick but you shoved through them with the strength of someone twice your size. As you escaped the crowd and your hands found Leglolas’, you could finally breathe. It was a breath of fresh air after being forced underwater. 

His eyes bore into yours, his grip tight as if to assure himself you wouldn’t leave. Battle was coming, he knew that, you knew that, but the sentiment was nice. It made your heart flutter, the numbness freezing your body lifting the longer you stayed there. 

You wanted to speak, to tell him all the love confessions and speeches you’d been mentally writing and rewriting. But the ability to talk had been lost. Your mouth was dry and your throat had closed up. Instead you squeezed his hands tighter, hoping to convey everything your words couldn’t. 

His lips, pressed into a thin line, relaxed into a slight frown. His eyes were searching your face, looking for the answers to his never ending questions. You weren’t sure if he found what he was looking for, too afraid to ask in case it soiled the moment. 

It was in that moment, with your eyes connected and his hands tangled with yours, everything clicked into place. Every nagging insecurity and silly fear felt so miniscule and pointless. How much time had been wasted living in fear? 

Moments before doom and your hit with an epiphany. Your feelings weren’t as unrequited as once believed. Reflected in Legolas' shining eyes you could see the same unsurety that came with loving someone new. The constant doubts that you were wrong, not trusting your own eyes and instincts. It was never one sided, you just wish one of you had the courage to say something before this moment. 

A part of you waited for Legolas to speak, to declare everything you’d already figured out, but he never did. Rendered mute just as you were, he was silent in the midst of chaos. 

So you opted to not speak either and instead pressed your lips against his. Your lips were dry and cracked, raw from biting on them constantly. Legolas’ were much the same, yet neither of you hardly cared. His grip on you tightened as he pulled your body closer. He never wanted to let you lose and you didn’t want him to. 

The kiss was hardly romantic or anything like the sappy romance books that became your bible. His lips were rough and his grip was nearly bruising, but it made your heart burst all the same. There was no time for gentle kisses and longing eye contact under flutter lashes, the world was coming to an end. And you’d be damned if it ended without you telling Legolas you’d loved him. 

You pulled back, wide eyes staring into his eyes. A warm rush through your body, heart beat racing against your chest. Faintly, you heard Aragorn calling for the two of you; the current scenario came rushing back as time began to move normally. Majority of the army has lined up, anxiously awaiting the official start of a long dreaded war. You looked at Legolas once more, and his eyes met yours.

“I love you.” The words fell from your lips, jumbled together as you spoke to the tempo of your heartbeat. He understood them all the same, his lips curling into a melancholic sort of grin. 

“I love you.”

The moment was over, the bubble previously surrounding just the two of you bursting. The end was near.

Following the crowd, you and Legolas took your places at the wall, watching ten thousand Uruk-Hai march towards you. Yet you weren’t filled with the same icy fear and delolation. You’d been revived; dropped into icy water after a year long drought. 

Under the wall and hidden by darkness, your hand found Legolas’. He squeezed it, a reassurance and a promise. 

You would both make it out. 

And everything would be right. 

Deeply, you inhaled slowly exhaling. A single arrow bit through the darkness and landed in the chest of an Uruk-Hai. The enemy army shouted and began to charge. You lifted your blade, untangling your hands from Legolas’ as you knocked his arrow. 

The two of you would be fine. 

If only so you could hear him say the words you’ve dreamed about since your first meeting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ 

Tags: @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @mouseships | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @fried-potato-balloon | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @im-a-muggleborn | @ollyoxenfrees | @delyeceamaitare |

[wolfofcelestia]

She's not your girl

Summary: Zayne's girlfriend's platonic / one-sided relationships with Xavier and Rafayel

Mood: Pining, melancholy, slight angst

Xavier - Ungranted Wish

She would be closer to Xavier than Rafayel, mainly due to proximity. She and Xavier would game together after work or hang out at the arcade, with her teaching him strategies for the crane game. Xavier would spill upwards of $100 each visit thanks to his insistence that he "almost had it", but in reality, he just wants to prolong his time with her, and give her the opportunity to play as much as she wants

They’re at the arcade so often and they seem so comfortable with each other that the staff even start to think that they’re dating. It’s only when she gets a text from Zayne telling her that he’s finished work that the illusion is shattered. For both the staff and for Xavier, who flashes her a weak smile of understanding and regret when she takes off the moment she sees Zayne’s car pull up

"It’s okay," Xavier tells himself. Whenever Zayne works long nights, she’ll be at his place again and they can game or watch movies together until they both fall asleep on the couch. Whenever Zayne lets her down, Xavier will be there to pick her up again

Even though her heart doesn’t belong to him, being able to spend so much time with her is enough

After all, out of everyone in her life, he’s the one she spends the most time with. They’re together all work day and sometimes even all night

It only hurts when he calls out to her, asking what she wants to eat or what game she wants to play, only to see her texting Zayne on her phone with a smile so full of love and joy, a smile that would never be aimed at him

Rafayel - Burned by Ice

Rafayel has her by his side because he pays her to. Not a minute more, not a minute less. She’s there to do a job. That’s what he asked of her, right? So why does he always hope that she would see him any differently one day?

At the very least, she takes the job seriously, so while she’s on the clock with Rafayel, her phone is on silent. He’d try to impress her with his talents because of course she’d praise him, just like all the art critics around the world. But she’s no art critic. She’s a hunter. The only art she creates is the blood splatters left behind by the wanderers she's slaughtered

So when he presents her with a glorious painting of the little red fish that brought them together, surrounded by sunlight shining through the sparkling blue water, all she has to say is “...Nice fish”

Ah. The flames inside him would instantly be snuffed out, replaced by an icy grip on his heart. Even though he’s never met Zayne, he could feel his presence whenever he’d try to win her over, if only a little bit. Zayne’s girl wears his influence like a shield, rendering her immune to Rafayel's charms that usually wowed so many women so easily. The worst part isn't that she rejected him time and time again. It's that she doesn't even realize she's doing it

She’d look so innocently confused at how heartbroken Rafayel is when she gives him her praise of the painting, thinking it would have made him happy. But the artist would just brush it off and put the painting off to the side with the others instead of giving it to her. He’d have to try harder

The only time he ever feels a little close to her is when he'd annoy her enough to get a rise out of her. "You're acting like a child," he'd tell himself. "You're acting like a child," she'd admonish him

If acting like a brat got her to see him as something more than just another source of income, he'd take it. After all, she looks so cute when her face would scrunch up in annoyance whenever he'd find a new nerve to poke

But in the back of his mind, he'd wonder just how long he could push his luck before she finally quits and he'd never see her again. He'd have to find a way to win her over before he loses her forever

[hamlets-ak]

ice cream hunt ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: on a hot summer afternoon reader and timmy go for an ice cream hunt in nyc

It was a warm smokey summer afternoon. New York was an oven. The day; Thursday, the most boring day of the week.

Windows and balcony doors opened wide, let the last sun rays swim inside your apartment alongside a small breeze that made the curtains fly and then linger on the floor. There was music from your neighbor's house concealed by the loud tireless honking of cars down the street.

You and Timothée were laying on the couch, only wearing the sunlight, half-asleep, half-awake, watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing TV shows. He held your feet on his lap as his head fell back melancholically, breaths escaping his pouty lips.

« Tim are you sleeping ? », you asked. He mumbled something in response and then turned his head in your direction, face red, sweat holding onto the skin under his eyes.

« It’s so hot, » he told you. You smiled.

« You know what I want ? », you asked.

« No. » You lightly tilted your head, the smile gradually growing until it reached your ears. Timothée groaned pulling his hair back and holding it out of his face already knowing what you wanted to tell him. « Baby, it’s so hot... »

« Come on ! Let’s go out for a walk. »

« Someone literally got a heat stroke the other day- », Tim said. You rolled your eyes.

« You are just being lazy, » you murmured throwing your head back dramatically.

« I’m not being lazy. It’s just too hot outside. »

« We can go for a walk and get some ice cream. »

« Ice cream would be nice, » he mumbled.

« Then let’s go get it ! », you said sitting better, your back leaning on the couch. Timothée just looked at you as you took your feet off him and stood up. « Come on, get dressed, » you motioned your hand to him.

« I’m so tired, I can’t even get up, » he told you, eyes following all your moves. You threw a t-shirt on top of his face.

« How can you be tired ? We’ve been watching that crap all day. »

« Look, » he uncovered his face. « If you manage to pull me up from the couch, we’ll go get ice cream. » Your stare stayed at him for a few seconds and then you smiled.

« Your laziness is next level, » a chuckle escaped your lips. He beamed at you. « You want me to get you dressed too ? »

« Yes, please. »

« Timothée get up, » you said putting on your t-shirt.

« Ah, help me, » he tented his arms forward.

« Lazy ! »

« What do you mean ? That’s my charm, » he smiled.

You walked closer to him and he tied his arms around your hips pulling you closer until his cheek touched your belly. You pulled his wild hair back and leaned to kiss his forehead.

« You are a lazybones but I still love you, » you lowered your gaze at him. He looked up at you with a grin that made his eyes squint and his nose wrinkle. Timothée nodded letting you take his curls back. « Come on, » you took his hands on yours, and before letting a wet kiss on the back of his palm, you pulled him up.

« You really want ice cream, huh ? », he laughed wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a peck on the lips.

« Ah, you are sweaty ! » You lightly pushed his chest. He grinned as he picked up his t-shirt and put it on.

« Got the keys ? », he asked once you got ready.

« Got ‘em. »

Wind rushed past you with razor teeth, hot like the breath of a dragon. You strolled down the street, two flames under the starless purple sky, dark and bright, streetlights following your steps. Timothée held your hand while crossing the road and he insisted on staying on the outside of the pavement, making your walk seem like an adventure.

You asked him if he remembered what was your favorite ice cream flavor and he just rolled his eyes as if you asked him his name. You laughed about nothing special while wandering around the city, watching the colors change above your heads until the sky turned into a blue shade like the deepest part of the ocean, and you finally reached the ice cream parlor.

« What will you get ? », you asked.

« What I am always getting, » Timothée said and then furrowed his eyebrows wearing his playful smile. « You remember or... »

« Or... », you shook your head questionably. « I’ll just get you whatever I want. »

« Sounds good, » he nodded, curls bouncing up and down. You smiled as your hand fumbled on his hair and pulled it behind his ears.

You left him chuckling to himself while you walked closer to the counter. His eyes followed your every move and stayed on you even when you looked away. You turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed, and shook your head watching the way he was staring at you with his sweet smile and red cheeks. Timothée shrugged imitating your move.

« Here you go, » you gave him his cone but quickly pulled it back to take a quick bite. He pressed his lips together looking at you for a few seconds before bringing your arm up and taking out his tongue to lick your cone. You burst into laughter at the way his nose was covered in ice cream too.

« Dummy, » you smiled cleaning his nose with your paper towel.

« Yours is better, » he said. « Wanna change? »

You slid your hand around his arm as you made your way back home slowly with steady steps and different cones, following the sidewalk.

[perlen-gold]

Of Fairest Flame

Yeah, I'm TOTALLY on time for this (wait, it's already November you say?!) but this is something I've been working on for @ainurweek for Day 9: Melkor I Mairon

(I have something for Day 1 - 8 too... just not yet finished... it's a good thing I'm never late.)

Read on on AO3 or under the cut as it's so long 😆 (and also totally unrevised ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated ❤️ though I can understand if you're too bored to read!

Also, I'd like to thank the people here on tumblr who encouraged me and assured me this was a nice fandom. Having been a wholly silent part of this fandom for years and years this is the first thing I have picked up the courage to share and I want to tell you, guys, THANK YOU! ❤️❤️❤️

At Mairon’s feet the whole world was made of gold.

When he passed, even the black-oblivion, obsidian-sleek walls of Utumno lit brazen-bright. Pits of bonfires woke beneath the iced rocks, and gilded flame-tips licked at his limbs from the sheer walls of Angband, polished to hot embers and glowing coals in his presence.

Wherever he trod was the flame of his hair. However dark the night, its lustrous strands wove glowing rubies into the roaming night. Whatever darkness he summoned around him was pierced by the golden gaze of his eyes.

His shadow dissolved into a golden crown when his fairness shone forth as he willed it to as leaping water over steep stones and cleaving rocks.

And I saw him take it, this heated glow of his as he had taken the rising crown from my hands. Oh, I had stared at him, harder and deeper than any mountain flesh or gaping chasm. I could have struck him down, torn him asunder as easily as I called spitting heights and depths to my biding. And yet his flame never even flickered in my direction. Not even when scornfully he took the gleaming jewels, heady with his disdain, from me. For my little flame did not shape mountains and chasms.

Gilded iron was his alloy and will his anvil.

It was beauty alone that Mairon shaped.

Patient, or as patient as I would, I watched him call forth in the forge the spearing splendor of my crown and the hideous shape of Orcs under the skies just as meticulously.

There is a fearsomeness in unpleasing appearance and Mairon knew it well. The dread Orcs inspire in the common man was of his design also, naturally.

So was the stronghold of Angband. A rock-hewn fortress of efficiency, warfare and secrecy, I never tired to wander its complexity, wondering and, with all my heart, occasionally longing to fell it just to see how Mairon would rebuild and recreate its terrible beauty all over again, though I never told him so. He knew anway, of course, and kept his keen golden eye on me like a wolf guarding its prey.

Yes, ghastly they were, the creatures Mairon unleashed upon his foes, the heinous Orcs and gruesome goblins, mountain-trolls and blood-teethed wolves, swathed in the blinding darkness of my Balrogs and fire-drinking dragons.

Mairon, however, ceased to be fair in battle.

Oh, he could have seduced most of his adversaries, forced onto week knees with his sorcery many more and all the rest. But a cobra will not feed upon limp flesh, the cheetah must race, the falcon swoop to pierce the songbird onto its claw.

And so, with his flickering flame-smile, Sauron, as they called him, set a different trap entirely to spring.

The light upon his face was an uncanny ally of his.

Illuminating the finest of his bones to marble-cutting flawlessness.

Chiseled heights, darkness and light were there ought to be neither, glowing shades and whisper-gleaming rays of sunlight beneath a blackened sky.

His voice rang the air like silvered iron, mellifluous and haunting at once, as commanding as a furnace and as tender as a caressing hand, his laugh bright sunlit pearls and cruelly suffocating ashes.

At the dawn, on the shore of battle, the highest elven kings, fiercest queens and most spirited warriors rode for him without hesitation. Sauron, the cruel, they murmured stern-faced among them, and he was indeed wickeder than any Orc or Balrog of mine.

They set out and rode and stroke to earn their place facing him, swords held aloft, their steadfast resolve soaring to shield their people and beloved ones and let detested Morgoth’s lieutenant perish at last.

What they met utterly unnerved, unrooted, unhinged them.

Comeliness.

Handsomeness.

Fairness.

Pulchritude.

Beauty.

Those are mere words. Spoken tumbling winter-leaves struggling to paint a hail storm.

He was all and naught.

And more.

And more.

And more of it.

Both women and men trembled in mesmerized dread and eerie, bloodcurdling want, gaping upon him. Intoxicating pleasure rose in them when they first caught his eye. It was like pain to them.

 By then Marion’s battle-born strides would have become languid-long strolls. The few who still had any morsels of wit left about them tried to break away their eyes from the light-infused apparition frantically, searching for the malice of his mace, gripping their swords with their sweat-slippery fingers.

It always charmed him into the smallest, most dazzlingly curving smile. They almost never realized that to Mairon the sword tip’s deadly dance was just another art, another craft to design and shape.

The most valiant were always wild on their obedient horses to shoot like arrows at him.

Towards the end, they all fell, crawled, cursed, glowered, quivered under the tip of his iron-clad foot. I have always thought him nearly never more beautiful than when he coaxes his cruelty like a lover’s kiss before the bite.

Around them their friend’s torn faces and daughters’ and sons’ smeared lips, honeyed with crimson blossoms and singing gold flowers. The unnatural light painted the blood-gasping ground and changed their fallen comrade-in-arms’ gruesome wounds to crimson-cold brocade.

Mairon had them between his teeth till they died of bliss and horror alike.

Until they sighed and shrieked and moaned and wept.

 “You are Sauron,” they would utter, staring, accusing, spitting at him.

Oh, yes, Mairon said. Smiled. Oh, yes, yes.

Sometimes the very young ones, well-trained boys and girls, would beg him then. Then, Mairon’s rose-soft, velvet-curling lips smiled even more beautiful.

Around him the thrusting, piercing, blood-lilting, iron-soaked air was limned with gold. In this pause, this endless biding of time against the grey-spraying portrait of misting blood and blooming battle he liked to pull off his helmet at last. Slow and delicately this one, rapidly in a great sweeping arch the other time.

It is the last thing they always see.

The reaching length of his hair curling into sunlit waves of gleaming water ripples, his sun-shaming light pouring as endless waterfalls.

The pinkish tip of his tongue a glimpse between his curving gold-dusted lips in the moment of his kill.

In the blink of a startled eye, Mairon’s beauty rippled into a haunting, living, wraith-like phantom.

The high-browed elven lord’s eyes always widened and their lips spit on the ground before his last smile.

Before he opened them as ripe figs bursting on touch.

When I came forth from my fortress, the ground shook with satisfying anticipation and a rumble swept through our armies, his and mine, mine and theirs. As I stepped forward without forewarning, the roiling battle was surging under Mairon’s sway as usual.

A draught of wind … I could listen to the softness of Mairon’s petal-perfect skin in it. I could savor the unnatural shadows illuminating his brow and cheekbones in the exact, precisely perfect way whispering across his features and taste the whipping of his hair in my mouth, scarlet-sizzling as coals. On his flaming head his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smooth black somehow enlightening the flawlessness of his features even more. His iron-slinking armor, sharp as curving wolf teeth, clung to the virtue of his shape. His fiery hair, tamed in the forge only, was afly like shimmering birds. I saw it whip through the air as Mairon turned abruptly around even before the roaring Orcs next to me blinked at my sudden presence.

At once, I saw the flare in him bright as sunlit gemstones as I set foot on the battle field, his intricate thoughts shooting like spider’s webs into a myriad of calculations at once.

The mind of any other Valar and their servants are like lily-bedded ponds. Deep their water runs but slow, and the pebble thrown barely bounces across the surface. The ripples are soon gone.

Mairon’s mind, however, darted like fire prancing, dazzling to watch its hundred and thousand swift flickers.

I seldom partook in battle and, oh, hard it was becoming already to stifle my laughter.

Promptly, I could see his clever embers stirred in their battle-focused ash-bed, swiftly and instantaneously.

Ah, how often had I thwarted his meticulous plans in the past before for no obvious reason – not obvious to him, that is – at all?

Sometimes I had leapt into action when he would have stalled my impatient hand, sought to preserve what I annihilated and at other times I had cherished what Mairon had deemed worthless.

So wary was his gaze as it first flew into my direction like a sleeping volcano’s first spark that I could sense a thousand thoughts ignite into a hundred interweaving sparks at once. He knew I was seldom to do what he bid me to and never to follow a plan to its end.

Oh, but he was a quick-bright little flame, and whatever havoc I wrought upon his elaborate schemes he would never be surprised nor deceived twice and what could scratch upon the perfection of his composure once never did even reflect on the polished marble sheen of his features ever again.

Oh, but he knew me so well indeed as the fire knows the logs it steadily consumes. It had become increasingly hard to catch him unawares, to make mark any impression upon his clever, ever-calm countenance.

A thousand wiles I had played upon him through the ages already and a thousand predictions and presumptions were lapping at his iron-clad feet now.

As soon as I set foot on the ground it trembled and Mairon’s gold flame hair was afly.

Instantaneously, his face turned in the direction of my arrival and, though he was far away on a lone hill, in the midst of battle, a commander of forces who would be commanded by none other, I could see his shimmering beauty whip around.

Belike, I would seek his advice or perhaps I would undo all his careful webs and sunder all his admirable designs upon a mere whim of mine –  he was fascinated and loath to watch me do it.

So, as the ground rumbled beneath my iron-clad footfalls and even the darkest creatures of my armies shrank away in fright, I could see him not step back like them but instead devise and foretell a thousand things to be prepared for me, to predict my wisdom – of which he doomed little upon me – and envision the chaos I could wreck.

Bright could I see the light of his mind as he drew it, keen as the nimble blade he was wilding.

A lesser being he was, yes, so much more fragile and less mighty than I. But none of the other Valar, let alone their servants, possessed his mind’s spark-gleaming quickness, second only – or so I hoped to believe – to my own infinite-stretching mind.

Golden thoughts sparked within it, darting as light, trying to decipher the cause and – more important in Mairon’s glittering mind – the ends of my wild stepping into battle.

Again, I almost burst out laughing.

My hammer, however, dragged a gaping gorge behind me. I did not lift it nor unleash its deadly power and that, I think, a brimming in my chest, is what drew Mairon’s suspsicion most.  

From my path, my army swayed, Orcs and darker creatures shrinking back.

But I am a god and it took me scarcely more than a few strides before I reached him.

Mairon’s face was like marble showing neither dent nor impression whatsoever. If I had knelt at his feet his splendid expression would have shattered – but in my mind the idea I carried within me was of another kind and I brimmed with the anticipation of it.

Ah, how unearthly, uncannily, unrelentingly beautiful he was!

Mairon, His sword reluctantly held, raised his gold-infused gaze at me.

Inside the dazzling gold there were cold calculation and smug disdain aglitter.

Ah.

That potent mixture of mocking smugness and complacent taunt.

I have never told him that, though lesser in being, immortality and power, Mairon’s visage bore one fruit none other in Eä could offer.

In all other beings I had seen and sniffed it, beasts and birds, elves and orcs, wild things and god-like creatures alike. The other Valar, too, I had seen the sheen of it upon them – why, even Manwë – and it had filled me with glee unimaginable.

Not him, though.

Never him.

Forest of giles, oceans quick as arrows and mountains sharp as knives, I could see a whole world blazing in his aureate eyes.

Even smug disdain, if he had the nerve for it – and Mairon almost always did. Even, in those rarest moments when he was most unguarded, trust.

Amidst the tides of our forces I stood still in front of him. On Mairon’s flaming hair his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smoke grey, somehow illuming the brilliant symmetry of his features even more, his iron-slinking armor sharp as wolf teeth clinging to the sculptured fairness of his shape.

That fierce serpent beauty flashed. Yes, my lord? What is it that drives you forward to my meek reign?

The scarlet flame of his hair tangling around him in a windless breeze, a luscious bow, mockingly coy, of curving lips and white teeth. I could hear his voice tingle in my head.

Having left your hideout, is there something you ask of me?

Ah.

Insolence and impudence. Arrogance. Amusement.

A whole world but never fear.

I could have wrapped my hands around his slender neck and squeezed without even a gleam of scare in him. I could have lifted my hammer, torn the earth beneath his feet, dictated the skies to strike him with thunder and lightning.

Ages and aeons ago, in the sweltering gleam of Aulë’s forge, he had spotted me among the darkness long before I revealed myself. His eyes shone in the dark brighter than any cat’s. Instead of raising his voice, crying wolf and havoc for help, he watched me and I could feel his gold-gaze lingering.

I went back to my underground halls that day, pondering that brazen insolence just to return the next night trying to break his unwavering gaze.

“How do you know I will not smite you where you stand?” I asked him upon the next day in the deserted forge when I let go of the shadows at last to bend over him.

He cocked his head like a bird and returned, smug as a raven:

“How will you know I will not betray you where you sit?”

The cheek! I was a poisonous viper and he was another and, oh, how fiercely I wanted him to be mine, mine, mine then and mine alone!

His soft neck was between my hands before even he could elude me. Instantaneously, the gold in his eyes sparked with realization and horrified shock of what I was about to do in a split heartbeat ere I was upon him. His lustrous hair whipped like gold ribbons in a wind where there was none, his skin was iridescent in his otherworldly apparition-beauty.

His gilt-rimmed pupils dilated but it was already too late.

I pressed my mouth amidst the surging battle forces upon his pearly lips and kissed.

Flame-swift, Mairon’s rage was so instantaneous I had to swallow my cackling laughter just to prolong the touching of our lips a little longer before he could defy me.

A conflagration met my mouth and I, made of ice and fire, allowed him to singe me till I felt actual pain for I burnt and grinned now beholding the utter outrage in Mairon’s gold-limned eyes.

I could not fathom what incensed him more – the fact that I would do this outside the secrecy of his sweltering bed chambers or the incidental truth that I had accomplished to take him yet again by utter surprise.

Suddenly, the hot-white rage came, ever more terrifying and beautiful than a thunderstorm.

He looked like he might have struck me down then and there, me, in front of everyone.

Then Mairon turned – not because he could not but would not strike me – and away he  went like a conflagration to ravage the battlefield, descending upon our enemies as the sun, golden-bright and blind-burning, veiled in the light of stars and comets, and I watched him, his beautiful blaze transforming into a wraith-like furnace which he cast upon the enemy so that neither elven nor mortal survivor – if they survived – would be able to look  at a beautiful face, be it fair maiden or lovely lad or sweet rose, and bear it ever again.

As my thunder-laugh broke from my chest the ground around me shook and shuddered.

Pierced as though scorched, the swelling of my lower lip seared.

Oh, I was looking forward to golden vengeance he would spin to wreak upon me.

I laughed.

[decaf-mother]

"Heaven Knocked"

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MDNI

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John 'Soap' Mactavish x F!Reader

Civilian|Y/N

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Inspired by @sofasoap

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Warnings: Cheesy Fluff, Mention of asshat dudes

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You have had so many bad experiences with pick up lines being thrown your way- eyes that wander in a way they shouldn't. Cockiness, self-righteous, and generally horrendous attitudes of men that cross your path.

Just recently yet another failed date where you were forced to sit and listen to a guy mansplain your own job to you.

God, these shitheads need to be glitter bombed.

Standing outside now beneath the harsh rays of sunlight, eyes cast out towards the rolling sea. The breeze at least made the heat not so unbearable.

The sound of a new pair of feet approaching dragged you out of your head.

"Beautiful day, yeah?"

His thick Scottish accent definitely peaked your interest, taking in his features carefully you felt your heart freeze for a second... Those eyes.

The rolling blue of them mimicked the sea perfectly, so much hidden beneath the surface- something you could certainly get lost in if you weren't careful.

So, for your own sake you quickly looked away.

"Yeah... It is a beautiful day..."

You weren't sure if the conversation was going to go anywhere or how to take it anywhere- this man is a stranger but you prayed he'd talk more.

You tried to convince yourself it's just because he has a nice accent.

Or maybe his little mohawk was endearing in a way.

Or those blue eyes-

No... Stop that.

"Ever go swimming out there?"

"What- no. Are you crazy?"

You looked at him as though he'd lost his mind- earning a laugh.

Who in their right mind would swim in the ocean?

Sure- people do it. But you wouldn't be caught dead stepping foot in that giant death soup.

"Bet it'd be cool on a day like today."

"I'd rather cool off with ice cream."

With a small flicker in his eyes he turned towards you, you created the perfect opening for him... He was wondering how to lead into this.

"How about we go get some ice cream, then?"

"Y'know what- sure."

••

Of course one date lead to several and you didn't regret chatting with that friendly stranger for a single moment.

Sure- he uses cheesy pick up lines nearly constantly... But it's sweet.

There is nothing shallow in the way he looks at you and there is never any 'just trying to get in your pants' type attitude.

Instead he just wants to see you smile and laugh, heart warming to say the least.

He waltzed into the kitchen and you knew just based off his grin.

"Johnny-"

"Bonnie ye won't believe what just happened."

"I'm sure I won't."

He wasn't even mildly discouraged by your remark, resting his hands on the counter keeping his eyes locked on you. Deep rolling blue.

"Heaven knocked and they want their angel back."

You knew it was coming but still chuckled nonetheless.

"Are you seriously going to use a pick-up line on me everytime you come over?"

"Yep."

"Won't you run out?"

"Not anytime soon."

You sighed and pretended to be annoyed... But you hoped he'd never run out.

It's not like other guys cheesy pick up lines... No... Never.

At this point you swore Johnny is the angel that heaven is missing.

"Think you're hiding some wings or somethin' from me..."

"Aha! I'm rubbing off on ye."

"Oh, cut it out."

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{My brain is so silly recently.}

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{@gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup }

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{More Content}

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter seven: port angeles

previous chapter ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ chapter eight

summary: a trip to port angeles should ease her mind, right?

warnings: swearing, violence, harassment

words: 2.9k (unedited)

I was back in the meadow. The sun beaming into my eyes, swallowing me in its warmth. The aroma of blue and purple cosmos, lisianthus, sweet peas, and scabiosas wafting through the air.

“Y/N!” I heard a voice yell. Jacob.

He pulled me out of my daze, his arm wrapped tightly around my wrist, leading me away from the sweet meadow. Everything was almost a blur.

“Jake? What’s wrong?”

I was being pulled deeper and deeper towards the dark and menacing forest. 

Looking back at the meadow, the light that emerged was almost blinding as it walked even closer. Edward. His skin faintly glowed as he approached, his eyes an intimidating black. He held out a hand towards me, asking me to come with him.

Jake's grip around my wrist had vanished entirely. In his place was a large light brown wolf with dark brown eyes and sharp teeth that snarled.

I froze at the sight.

“Y/N, trust me.” Edward said in almost a whisper.

I walked towards him slowly, cautious of the enormous wolf that was inches away from tearing at my skin. As I reached out for his hand, I heard a low, menacing growl coming from my rear. The wolf launched at us, Edward jumping in front.

“NO!” I cried out, springing upwards from my bed. I was completely drenched in sweat, the vivid image of that vicious wolf with its sharp teeth lunging towards Edward still burning in my mind's eye.

It was only 5PM. I forced my body to move, reaching my computer and closing the numerous tabs still open from the previous day. I didn’t want to make the same mistake. To search for absolute nonsense just to come up with nothing but a recommendation for a psychologist. I couldn’t plainly type in ‘vampires’ and expect an answer. My brain searched for the answers in Jacob’s story. The cold ones.

In my search, I came across all sorts of legends from different cultures. The Danag, a Filipino vampire who’d planted taro on the islands, working with humans until Danag had drained a woman’s body of her blood. The Romanian Varacolaci, a powerful undead being who could appear as a beautiful pale-skinned human. The Slovak Nelapsi, who was so strong and fast that it could massacre an entire village on its own. Amidst all the bad, the Stregoni benefici was an one of good, a mortal enemy of all evil vampires.

The myths were quite different from one another, only some backing up the ones I’d seen in horror films. The typical myths such as coffins and withering into ash in the sunlight were almost amusing.

With each myth, I compared it with my own observations of Edward. His impossible speed, strength, beauty, the way his eyes shifted colors, and how his skin resembled porcelain. His touch was ice cold. From the many dreams where I’d felt his touch. It was freezing, almost burning, then it would shift to a sweet and calming warmth. In reality, I’d only felt the burn of his touch with layers of clothing separating the two of us, but nonetheless, his touch left a lasting impression on my memories, making it difficult to forget the strange and hauntingly beautiful being that he was. Despite his otherworldly appearance and behavior, there was something about him that made me want to understand him even more, and with each new discovery, I found myself drawn to him in ways I never thought was possible.

What I needed right now more than anything was to shake him off. He had completely invaded my brain without even trying. I got up and out of the house, not even putting a second thought to where my feet were taking me.

My feet had guided me to a thin ribbon of a trail, one that led through the forest. After the incident with the animal attack, my dad insisted that I shouldn’t wander, but I couldn’t help myself. Even after everything, I still found comfort within the trees. One day, Billy had caught me lurking and convinced my dad that there was a spot on the reservation that was open and in his words, “a hell of a lot safer.” His daughter’s Rachel and Rebbeca brought me through the ribbon trail, revealing a tree, one that looked to be much fuller of life than the rest. It was a willow tree. It stood right in the center of the trail, the other trees surrounding from the outside. It had almost felt as if the image in front of me had been ripped out of a fantasy book. Ever since then, I’d catch myself running to this tree whenever life had felt completely out of my control.

Once I reached the tree, I stood to admire the way the trunk had twisted and turned, how the branches stretched out in every direction, the way its lush green leaves draped over the branches. It was almost unreal. As soon as my back had touched the trunk and my bottom had felt the legs of the tree, I instantly felt bliss. Even as the slight trickles of rain fell onto my cheeks, I remained.

Many questions still lingered in my mind. Could the Cullens be vampires?

From what I knew, from all that Edward had warned me about. How he was dangerous… a villain… Could that all be connected to the stories of bloodsucking monsters? They had to be something. Edward Cullen most definitely wasn't human. In Jacob’s stories, the Cullens seemed like saints in comparison to what I’d read, so perhaps all hope wasn’t lost. But hope for what? That somehow Edward was wrong about himself? That he’d graciously allow himself to let me in? To truly see him for what he actually was and not be blinded by the stories written from the outside?

If Edward was a vampire, why was I searching for some sort of way in and not out?

I had two options. The first was to take his advice: be smart and avoid him as much as possible. To tell him to leave me alone and actually mean it this time. To quite literally build a wall around him and pretend he was only just a figment of my imagination. No matter how much I wished that I could succeed, I knew that I wouldn’t. The second option was much more tempting, which was to continue to get to know him even with the knowledge that I know now. He wasn’t a monster, he just couldn’t be.

Once I finally felt that my escape had been fulfilled, I trekked my way back to my house, following the neat trail that stayed intact somehow.

Opening my eyes, I was greeted with an illuminating orange tint in my bedroom. From the window, beyond the pillows of clouds, I was able to see a tint of the blue in the skies.

For the first few classes, I couldn’t help my jittering. It felt as if the sun had completely cleared the clouds in my brain. Was it because I might’ve figured out his secret? That I wasn’t afraid for some terrifying reason? I didn’t fully understand my enthusiasm. Despite my discoveries, the excitement I’d built up to be face-to-face with Edward after our last encounter was almost nauseating. I was hoping he’d once again steal me away from my friends, with only his company at the same empty table. But once I walked into the cafeteria doors, I faced disappointment. The Cullens’ table was empty. Even as my eyes searched the crowded cafeteria, the table we occupied just last Friday was full of freshmans. As I moped throughout the entirety of lunch, I had a small glimmer of hope that he’d be waiting for me in Biology class, with a smirk ridden on his face after he’d seen my glumness quickly turn into pure joy. But, that didn’t happen.

The rest of the school day had gone by in a blur, my utter depression making the day absolutely useless. Even with the rumors that Tyler Crowley spread about taking me to prom had completely gone over my head. What was it about Edward Cullen that made my emotions go untamed? I felt pathetic. I’d hardly known him, yet my life revolved around him. My happiness was dependent on his wavering presence.

I was hoping time with Angela and Jessica would lessen my misery, but as I sifted through the various dresses, my thoughts had only worsened. 

I was going to this dance alone, Jessica and Angela wouldn’t let me escape it, insisting multiple times that I should ask the desperate flocks of guys who were just waiting for my question. I couldn’t help but think of Edward, all while the girls mentioned over and over how ‘into me’ he was, but the thought of asking him filled me with a level of humiliation that I couldn't bear.

After a couple minutes through my search, my eyes had finally fallen upon the perfect dress. It was a deep burgundy color, littered with a pattern of beads that looked to be a vine of flowers blooming across the dress.

I pulled the dress from the rack, admiring it from all around before bringing it to the dressing room. 

I slid the dress up my body with ease, the soft, silky material easily gliding over my skin. Looking up towards my reflection, I was in complete awe with not only the beauty of the dress itself, but how it had perfectly caressed every curve and contour of my body. I almost shrieked with excitement, forgetting for only mere seconds that I had no date and no Edward.

I stepped out of the dressing room and found Jessica and Angela, who were giving each other opinions on their dresses they had on.

Once they turned around, their jaws had immediately fell, screeching and running towards me to get a better look of the dress.

“Oh my god. That dress is fucking gorgeous!” Jessica squealed. “Where did you even find that?!” She began to rummage through the dresses in a rush.

“You look hot.” Angela said with her jaw still wide open. “You’re buying that right now, I swear.”

“If you don’t, I will!” Jessica yelled, still searching through the dresses.

“I’m getting it, Jess.” I laughed. “Maybe, I do need a date.”

“Oh my god! Yes! Please!” Jessica squealed.

Once I changed out of the dress and into my normal clothes, I went to the register and paid. In the meantime, I waited for Jessica and Angela to find their dresses, giving them opinions on each, ranking them from best to worst. Even as I was fully occupied, I couldn't help but sneak glances at the bookstore across the street.

“Hey,” I hesitated. “Do you guys mind if I check out the bookstore?”

“Oh, yeah! Did you want us to come with you?”

“No, no, you guys can take your time. I’ll just meet you guys at dinner, yeah?”

“Wait!” Jessica yelled just as I was about to open the door. “Pink dress is number one right?”

“Definitely. Makes your boobs look good.”

“Okay, okay.” She relaxed. “Have fun! Remember, 7:30PM at Bella Italia!”

“Got it!” I gave her a thumbs up and headed out the door.

The walk to the bookstore wasn’t far, but I still managed to take in the sights of Port Angeles. As I approached the storefront, I could already smell the musty aroma of old books and the faint hint of coffee wafting through the air. Once I opened the door, I was greeted with almost endless aisles of books. I eagerly made my way through the aisles, my eyes scanning the spines of every book, my curiosity piqued by each and every one.

I didn't have any idea of what I was searching for, but somehow an array of books had appeared in front of me to dig into. Every book had to do with spiritual powers, energies, and connections.

As I lost myself in the books in front of me, the hour had slipped away without me even realizing. A buzz from my phone had broken me from the trance. It was Jessica, informing me that they’d already secured a table at Bella Italia. I immediately started to panic, shoving all the books I'd purchased into my shoulder bag and rushing out of the bookstore.

I didn’t realize how long the walk to the restaurant from the bookstore was until the sun had completely set. Almost no one was on the sidewalks, except for a group of four men that were towards the corner that I needed to turn into. I considered rerouting, turning entirely back around and taking the longer route to the restaurant, but I decided against it. I rummaged through my bag that slouched on my shoulder, frantically searching from some old mace that I’d stuck in there years ago. When I finally found it, I readied it, clutching my bag for dear life as I made my way towards them. I tried hard to keep a normal stature. I couldn’t look afraid because that’s exactly what they wanted: a frail girl that they could poke at to mug or possibly worse… I shuddered at the thought, but continued on. But as a neared closer, the thoughts were almost unbearable, as if my brain had been altered and spoke in their manner.

“Hey! Watcha doing out here on your own?” One of them nearly shouted, an evil and taunting laugh coming out of their mouth immediately after. Finally, Something to do. I flinched, hearing those words in almost a whisper. Now, I couldn’t help but look afraid, but still, I pretended to ignore them, straightening my back and picking up my pace.

“Oh, c’mon! Not even a ‘hello”?” I didn’t even bother to respond or even look at any of them as I passed by. What I would do for– Wow– Stupid Bitch… I didn’t dare turn around as they spoke, even if it felt as if they were screaming it in my ears, but the voices began to fade as I walked further away from them.

Once I saw that I was alone, I realized the nerves had caused me to miss a turn and walk into a dead-end. I was stuck behind some old storage buildings at the end of Port Angeles. I'd recognized it from the one time I’d come with my dad to put away the many Christmas decorations that he could no longer fit in the garage or attic. 

Then suddenly, almost louder than ever: Looks like we got something to play with tonight. I stopped in my tracks. It was completely silent. Not even their boasting laughter from a minute ago could be heard. Just the sound of my wracking breaths.

Just as I turned around to walk back, just ten feet away from me were two of the men from the group from before. I never had a good look at them because of the darkness and also the fact that I refused to look in their direction.

Instead of walking back in their direction, I turned to my right. I even considered running, but at this point, I was outnumbered and the two other men were possibly waiting to cease on my escape. You don’t know that they’re following you. I tried to make myself feel better even though I knew they were. Why wouldn’t they? Why were their thoughts and energy so strong that I could practically pull it from their sick minds? Was that what I had done? Was that the answer as to why their thoughts were screaming into my mind as if they were all surrounding me?

After crossing the street, I found myself behind an old warehouse and just as I was about to turn to go around it, I bumped into someone. Just as I was about to routinely say I was sorry, I smelt the reeking smell of alcohol and two men smirking disgustingly in front of me, inching towards me.

“Hey! Where you going?” I turned around, hoping to make a smooth exit, even considering breaking into a run, but I’d just bumped into another two figures. “Don’t leave, we’re just having fun here.”

They all huddled around me, spatting obscenities in my face to the point where I’d completely forgotten the mace that was in my sweaty and shaky hand. The voices were almost too much. I felt a hand grab my arm and yank it towards them, forcing me to face them, to which I brought myself back to reality, forcing up my knee and hitting the man’s groin and macing him. A scream erupted and as the other three men tried to grab me, I heard a car screech and veer out of the corner.

Headlights suddenly blinded my vision. In the meantime, I’d managed to pull myself away from the group and jump out of the car’s direction, preparing to run in case the car was not for my rescue. Once I saw the car almost ram into the four men and skid to a stop before me, I let out a breath of relief, especially after I’d seen who’d gotten out. Edward. All thoughts, not just the men, but my own had vanished.

“Get in,” Edward said, his voice laced with venom as the four men stared bewildered back at him.

I didn’t even give it a second thought as I practically threw myself into the car, slamming the door behind me and locking it.

next chapter

a/n: i’m so sorry this took so long !!! i had such a writer's block (which is weird because this is literally a rewrite????) but i’m gonna try to go back to updating every week or two weeks if i can!! also i’m not sure if i wanna have edward’s confession in the car or have it in the woods like in the movie. i love the drama of the forest, but i also love the intimacy of the car, but idk i think i’ll do a mix of both??? but hehehe it’s my favorite part so i’m super excited to write it!!! i’m leaving the dinner scene in the next chapter too just bc i feel like it fits better imo. please leave some feedback, your thoughts, and reblog if you can!!

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire @tiniewife @nephilimsss @itszzmoon @astrovampie @cryingoverfictionalmen @boxofbadsenses @ttnaanj @iheartprettygurls @aoi-targaryen

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[greetingfromthedead]

1. Beached

Series: Mermaid!AU Depth of Despair

Series Plot: Vash is a former sailor who, despite the call of the ocean, is stranded on land. You are a mermaid, a member of a race in hiding who has become nothing more than folklore and fantasy. You were the one who saved Vash from certain death years ago and ever since that, you are being called closer and closer to the shore. Getting wrapped up with each other is asking for trouble and for your secrets to be dragged into the sunlight.

Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader

Series Rating: PG-13

Series Tags: no use of "y/n", dark fantasy, magic, legends, folklore, mermaids, merfolk, magic, necromancy, shape-shifting, myths, fluff, forbidden romance, hurt / comfort, mermaid reader, Vash dresses like a pirate

Word count: 2k

Author's Note: I've had thoughts of mermaids since May, but now I got some creepy ideas that simply demanded to be written down. It seems that it ends up being a mini-series and I hope yall enjoy it as much as I do.

You're at the beginning | Next Chapter →

Vash walks along the beaten path leading to the edge of the cliff. The long grass sways with the strong sea breeze, brushing against his leathery pants and getting caught in the buckles of his knee high boots. He reaches the edge and gazes out at the vast expanse of ocean below. He has sailed these waters for many years, earning his living as a sailor. The salt in the air stirs up memories of a capsizing ship, and the tiny droplets of water hitting his face from the rough, crashing waves could be mistaken for blood that sprayed from his wounds. He shudders at the thought. He has left that life behind, but the sea always calls him back. By all accounts, he should have died that day with the rest of his crew, but by some miracle, he washed up at the shore and lived on to tell the cautionary tale of how he narrowly escaped the wrath of the ocean and now has to live with the guilt that comes with it. His body is still covered in jagged scars from the ordeal, and the loss of his left arm has made it hard to find a way back to his old life again.

His eyes trail along the shore he grew up on; he sees the sharp rocks reaching out of the water towards the sky, the shallow beaches where children go to collect seashells, and the lighthouse that always guided his way back home. The foamy waves roll into the bay, their white tops like rabbits skipping their way towards the land. It is a brilliant day with a bright blue sky and tall, pillowy clouds. He enjoys the gentle caress of sunlight on his rough skin as an unusual movement by a rock, not too far from the beach, catches his eye. He focuses in on the strange sight, trying to make out what it is, but there is nothing of note. He waits for a little bit longer, but eventually decides to continue his walk along the cliff. A shade of yellowy green keeps flickering in his mind—the color of kelp. He can't shake off the feeling that something was there in the water, lurking just beneath the surface.

He almost saw you. It's a terrifying feeling to be nearly discovered. Your usually cold body feels cooler still, like your blood has turned into ice water. You press your back against the rock and hope the rough waves are enough to hide you from view. You had stared at the handsome man for too long, getting lost in the familiar shape of his silhouette and in the golden glow of his hair that's the same shade as the ripe wheat fields you've admired from afar.

You aren't allowed to be here. Your kind is warned about the danger of coming too close to the shore. Nowhere is safe for someone like you except the dark depths of the ocean. So many lectures of caution have been drilled into your head about humans and their viciousness. It's not like you aren't afraid of them, but curiosity keeps you wandering closer and closer. The world looks so different above the surface: the blue sky, the pale sand, the red poppies, and even the white sea foam only show up on the other side of the waves. It's like a whole other world up there. But in all honesty, it's an excuse to go to the shore where you dragged a dying seaman to some years ago. You've hoped he survived, but until now, you never knew if he really did.

Your racing heart skips a few beats with the relief of seeing that man alive and well, standing at the edge of the cliff, surrounded by rippling grass that looks a lot like the surface of the water. You thought this would give you rest, but now all you want is to steal another glance. You turn around and stick your head out of the water. You feel your gills closing at the brush of air against your skin. Your hair and the algae in it stick heavily to your body, as you creep around the large rock to get a better view. You hold on to the rough surface; your nails no longer the sharp talons they are in the water, and the webs between your fingers disappear too. You keep looking in the direction you last saw the sailor, but he is nowhere to be found.

You should have listened. You should have been satisfied with seeing him alive and returned to the depths. Greed is a sin that always leads to consequences. You kept coming back, and you kept seeing him on the beach and on that cliff. You followed him along the shoreline to the port; you weaved between the supports of the pier as you listened to his footsteps. You kept getting closer, and you found that you had only eyes for him. That's why you didn't see the fishnet strung across the bay until it was too late, and you got caught in it. The more you struggle, the tighter it wraps around your body. The sharp rock you picked up from the seabed is no match for the ropes, either. You keep trying to peel it off yourself, unhooking it from the scales on your skin, but it only gets stuck on something new each time. You don't want to rip your fins as you fight against the relentless grip of the death trap, so you don't even notice as the current carries you towards the shallows of the beach.

Fear grips you tighter than the net ever could as you realize you've gotten entirely stuck. You can feel panic rising in your chest as you struggle to break free, your carefulness gone with the wind. You find it hard to move with half your body out of the water, your arms strung to your body with the cords that have wrapped themselves in driftwood and debris, anchoring you in place as sunrise starts to creep over the cliff. The salty air stings your lungs as you struggle to break free, and you feel so tired. You whimper and growl in anguish as the realization sets in that you will most likely die here alone and trapped, but you refuse to give up. You don't hear the running steps on the wet sand on the beach; you only freeze up once the boots hit water, sending droplets flying everywhere and making no attempt to be quiet as they wade through knee high saltwater toward you.

"Hey! Are you alright?" A worried voice calls out, and you look over your shoulder to see the beautiful blonde man approach you in a hurry. He appears to be out of breath, concern etched across his face. You pull an arm free, no longer careful of the long fin reaching beyond your elbow. You manage to grab an old, soaked branch and wave it in front of you while hissing a warning at the man.

"Careful! You're bleeding!" He continues, his hands up in the air.

His eyes move away from the branch, traveling along your body and widening as he takes in the sight before him. He stands there with a strange look, somewhere between disbelief and awe. He just stares, making no attempt to come closer or move away, so you keep your makeshift weapon pointed at him while trying to wiggle free. After what feels like an eternity, he finally seems to come back to reality and shifts his gaze back to your face.

"Let me help you," he says with a calming voice. "I am not here to hurt you."

His tone sounds genuine, but you know better than to trust the words of a human. You try to push away from him, back towards the open sea, but you are so thoroughly stuck that you can barely move at all. The panic only sinks in deeper as you see him pulling a knife from his belt. You thrash against your restraints, sending water flying in all directions as you desperately try to escape.

"Please stop! You'll hurt yourself further!" He says pleadingly, "I'll back away. See?"

You see him walking backwards, putting a bit more distance between the two of you, but your eyes are still drawn to the gleaming blade in his hand. You don't understand why he hesitates. Humans are supposed to be ruthless and cruel. From all the stories you have heard, he should have jumped you the moment he saw you, pinned you down, and slashed your throat without a second thought. You are at a hopeless disadvantage, yet he doesn't grasp at the golden opportunity before him.

"You are a siren, aren't you?" He asks with a hint of wonder in his voice. Siren, mermaid, nymph, merperson—all names humans have given your kind since before you turned into mere lore and legend. You can see the amazement in his eyes, but you aren't sure if it is from greed or innocent fascination. "I've heard that knowing a person's name gives you power over them. My name is Vash. Will you trust me to help you now?"

What is this nonsense? You wonder to yourself. There really are outlandish stories about you still floating around even after centuries of being in hiding. But if he really believes in this ridiculous superstition, then maybe you can trust him. He doesn't have to know that it's not his name that you need.

He carefully approaches you again, and you try your best to keep your fear under wraps. He keeps his hands visible at all times, giving you a sense of security. You watch him intensely, your body twitching at every move he makes slightly faster than the one before. He is finally close enough to bow over you; his eyes remain on your face, and you can see the blue hues in them, reminiscent of the sky on a clear day. You breathe heavily, fear tying a knot in your stomach. You can't help but try to wiggle away again as his hand takes hold of the fishing net, pulling it away from you so he can cut through it with his knife. He is mindful of the sharp blade, making precise cuts to free you from the tangled mess without hurting you.

You relax a bit as you feel the net loosen around you, the ropes no longer digging into your flesh. Vash looks so determined and focused as he works away. Your anxiety hasn't left you completely, but you no longer fight against him either. You haven't seen him this close since you pulled him from the wreckage of his ship. He looked more dead than alive on that day, his body covered in wounds and bleeding into the salty water you dragged him through. You never expected to be this close again. Close enough to see the mark at the corner of his eye and the flush of pink on his cheeks.

"There you are." He says with a sad smile, "But you're still bleeding."

You look at your own body again. There are tears in your fins and wounds where the scales have been torn off. You sit up, the fin on your arm disappearing, leaving just a small cut on your human looking skin. The scales on your body retreat too, where the air brushes over them, leaving behind mostly smooth skin. Your injuries don't look so bad anymore, but they are still there.

"Woah!" You hear the man's amazed exclamation as he watches you, his hand empty, the knife back in its sheath on his hip. You can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. You open your mouth to thank him, but you stop yourself before you can speak.

"Can you not talk out of water?" Vash wonders aloud, and you just nod, deciding to let him believe that lie. You are exhausted, and you try to keep your cards close to your chest to avoid the dangers that come with being this close to a human being.

Your attention is dragged away from Vash by a drunken song echoing from the bay, and fear fills you again.

"It must be the fishermen who put up that net; they're back to check on them." Vash voices the thoughts swirling in your head.

You're at the beginning | Next Chapter →

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