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corroded-hellfire · 1 year ago

Note

AYW req if you'd like: while Reader is pregnant with Eliza, she starts getting more prominent stretch marks on her stomach & boobs & stops letting Eddie see her naked. Eddie rectifies that situation hehehehe

This was honestly so fun to write! Love featuring the kiddos but these two also need some alone time hehe 💜 @munson-blurbs and I hope you like what we've come up with

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (she's already pregnant but you should still wrap it up), semi-public sex, pregnant!reader, oral, f!receiving, breeding kink, body image issues, older!eddie, dad!eddie

Words: 3.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The late June day is sweltering as you step out of the Harrington’s house and into their backyard. The placid blue water of the pool looks refreshing and calm—or it will, until the kids get in. Luke quickly jumps in alongside Theo and Danny, the three rowdy boys immediately splashing each other and then whining about being splashed. Ryan and Natalie are decidedly less hyperactive, taking care to watch baby Amelia where she kicks herself around in her purple mermaid floaties.

Nancy makes herself comfortable on a lounge chair a few feet away from the one you’re making your way towards. Normally you can keep up with everyone else, still being in your second trimester, but this heat has you moving slower and feeling crankier than usual.

You can’t help but notice the way Nancy looks in her bathing suit compared to how you feel in yours. Nancy’s had four children and looks stunning as always as she lays back in her black one piece. You feel shoved into your navy suit, like every little stretch mark that mars your skin is on full display for the world to see.

Trying to shrug it off and enjoy the invitation from the Harrington’s to have a pool day, you make yourself comfortable on your lounge chair and adjust the pale pink coverup you have on. Eddie stands near the foot of your lounge chair, shielding his eyes from the sun as he looks out at the children in the water. Your eyes feel glued to his lithe frame as he strips his shirt off. The pale skin that’s left on display practically has your mouth watering. It doesn’t matter that you’ve seen him naked countless times, your eyes still roam over his torso and the beautiful works of art he has inked on his skin.

As Eddie rids himself of the Black Sabbath shirt, he notices the way you’re gawking at him. A smirk quirks up his handsome features and he playfully tosses his shirt at your face. Your hormones this second trimester have been no joke. The moment Eddie walks through the door after work you’re jumping on him. Your husband swore you were going to wear him out before this baby was born. Not the last week or so though, now that Eddie thinks about it. Maybe those particular horny hormones have been fading to make room for whatever new batch comes in for the third trimester.

The sound of little feet kicking too hard beneath the water of the pool approaches you and Eddie, and you look up to see Luke swimming over towards the edge. He grins up at the pair of you, shaking the water from his curls like a dog just out of the bath. Bright blue eyes land on you and they’re doing a pretty damn good impersonation of the puppy dog look that Eddie gives you when he wants something. You know what Luke is going to ask before he even opens his mouth.

“Wanna plaaaay with us? Please?”

Giving him a frown as you squint beneath the blazing sunlight, you shake your head. “I’m super tired, bud. Growing a baby is hard work,” you tease. You’re not technically lying—when you’re not jumping Eddie’s bones or concocting weird new food combinations, you’re sleeping— but no one needs to know that’s not the reason you don’t want to get in the pool.

“I can play with you,” Eddie offers his son. He takes a step towards the pool and is ready to dive in when Luke wrinkles his nose up in disgust.

“Nah, I’m good,” the little Munson boy says.

As you bring your hands up to your mouth to cover up your laughter at your son’s remark, Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s bare back.

“Gonna need some ice for that burn?” Steve whoops.

“Shut up, Harrington,” your husband grumbles in response. Eddie takes a seat near your legs at the edge of the lounge chair. His hand finds your leg and he rubs up and down your calf, always needing to be touching you in some way. Physical comfort is something you both love to give and receive from one another, which calls for a lot of soft rubbing or absent-mindedly drawing patterns on one another’s skin. Now, Eddie’s touch is having a calming effect on you, though he didn’t even realize there was something you’re uneasy about. Your body language must change as he relaxes you though, because he tilts his head to the side as he gazes at your face.

“You feeling alright, baby?” he asks.

“Yeah, just tired.”

If Eddie had any follow up for that, he doesn’t get the chance because Amelia kicks her way over towards Luke in the pool and hangs onto his shoulder when she’s close enough. Her hand almost slips from his wet skin, but Luke manages to catch the little girl before she can float too far away.

“Uncla’ Eddie!” Amelia calls once she’s clinging to Luke again.

“What’s up, Little Red?” he asks his favorite ginger niece.

“Come in, come in!” Amelia cheers.

“At least somebody wants me in the water,” Eddie says with a pointed look at Luke. “Anything for you, my darling Mia.”

A few minutes after Eddie’s joined the kids in the pool—who also convince Steve to come in—Nancy comes over to you, noticing how everyone else is in just their bathing suits and you’re seemingly putting on more articles of clothing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly, nervously tucking your lips into your mouth.

“Bullshit,” she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. “I have four kids; I can smell a lie a mile away.”

“Seriously, Nance, I’m fine.” You muster up a small smile, but she sees right through it, and you know it.

You have your nose buried in a book, unaware that Nancy is reaching over the side of the pool to give Eddie’s ear a tug.

“Jesus H. Christ!” he yelps, rubbing the affected lobe. “What was that for?”

“Go talk to your wife,” Nancy says through gritted teeth, obviously irritated at having to spell it out for him. “Marco Polo can wait.”

As Eddie attempts to get out of the pool, Amelia grabs his leg and tugs. Your husband lets out a soft chuckle and picks the small girl up.

“I’ll be back, Mia.” He presses a few kisses to the top of her wet, red hair and sets her back in the water.

Over the top of your book, you see Eddie sauntering towards you. You slip the book back into your bag and tug your cover up tighter across your body.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” he asks with a smirk. “Besides that bun in the oven.”

“Just relaxing,” you say.

“If you’re just relaxing, why did Lady Harrington threaten my life to come over here? And why aren’t you in the pool?”

The only answer you have you don’t want to tell him. And you’re not going to make up some lie to get him off your back. Eddie deserves better than that and you would never treat him with anything less than the utmost respect. That doesn’t mean you want to tell him the truth, though. You swallow embarrassment as you mutter, “I gotta pee.”

Eddie doesn’t let you get far without him though, he’s hot on your tail as you walk through the back door into the house.

“Can you please tell me what the problem is so I can at least try to fix it?” he asks once the screen door is securely closed behind him.

Silence is his only reply as you walk up the stairs to the second floor. You’re obviously upset, and your husband can’t relax until he knows what’s bothering you.

“Sweetheart, what’s the problem?” he asks again.

You stop short and spin on your heel to face him. As Eddie tries to read your face, he’s not sure if there’s more sadness or anger there. Either way, he wants to make it go away. He’d do anything.

“This is the problem!” you say, gesturing towards your boobs and stomach.

Eddie looks at you for a moment, brain trying to comprehend whatever it is you’re talking about. He shakes his head and gives you his response. “If I keep looking at them, this is gonna be a problem, too.” He motions to his crotch.

“I’m serious!” you yell in frustration.

“I am, too!” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t forget how I got you pregnant in the first place.”

“Oh, so I can blame you for this mess?”

Eddie wrinkles his brows. “What mess?” He knows you would never refer to your baby that way, so he’s even more confused as to what you could mean.

“The stretch marks, Eds!” you lament, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “They look like an angry toddler drew lines all over my body.”

Understanding clicks inside Eddie’s brain. Why you’re so covered up. Why you didn’t want to go into the pool. But how could you ever think anything about your body wasn’t absolutely beautiful to him?

“That’s why you haven’t been all over me the past few days,” Eddie says as the realization hits him. “I thought maybe it was those horny hormones, or whatever they’re called, fading. But you…you think there’s something wrong with having stretch marks? Baby, no. It’s just your body making more room for our little sweet pea to grow. They’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Believing him is easier said than done. You want to believe him, but battling the insecurities in your head is not something you’ve conquered yet. Now you just stand there and fiddle with the hem of your coverup, not knowing what else to say or do.

Eddie sighs and gently takes your hand into his.

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

Eddie leads you into the upstairs bathroom and shuts the door. He positions you directly in front of the mirror above the sink and stands behind you. Slowly, he moves your cover up out of the way to reveal your growing bump, stretch marks dotting the sides.

“How on earth could you think anything about this is a problem?” he asks, his hands barely grazing your skin as he admires your tummy. “Look at you. Gorgeous bump. Cute little stretch marks from where our baby is making herself comfortable inside of you. It’s incredible, princess. Your body is literally growing a person and you’re mad at it because there are a few lines appearing on your skin?” He gives an incredulous laugh as he turns you around to face him. “Jesus, I mean, see what just talking about it does to me.” One large hand dwarfs your smaller one to press your palm to the hardening bulge in his swim trunks.

You roll your eyes. “Please. The wind blows the wrong way and you get a boner,” you rebut.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie says with a small groan. “Don’t say blows when I’m hard like this.”

“Can you be serious for two seconds?” Your temper is already short from the heat and the pregnancy, and his blasé attitude only makes it worse.

Eddie cradles your cheeks in his hands. “I love you. And I love your body. I loved it before you were pregnant, and I’ll love it after, but watching you carrying our baby…fuckin’ does it for me.” He bites his lower lip as he drinks in the sight of you. “Goddamn, you look fuckin’ gorgeous like this.”

You think back to when the two of you first got together, when he’d made what you’d assumed was an offhand remark about knocking you up. Maybe it wasn’t as out of left field as you’d thought.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie’s lips press soft kisses down your neck as he murmurs, “always dreamed about getting you pregnant. Would’ve done it a lot sooner if I’d known you’d be this sexy.” He runs a finger along a stretch mark that curves down your stomach.

“H-How much sooner?” Curiosity asks the question for you as your back arches slightly from his touch.

“That night,” he confirms, knowing he doesn’t have to elaborate further on what night he means, “but your stupid birth control pills ruined all my fun,” he adds with a teasing smirk.

“They were so stupid. Sh-Should’ve stopped taking them the second I saw you.” Your voice is still timid from the emotions coursing through you, but Eddie can tell you’re finally letting him in.

Eddie throws his head back. “Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” you tease, hands sliding up his wet chest and over the sparse hair. “What should we do about that?”

Eddie whines and leans in, nipping at your neck.

“You know, I wasn’t a big fan of this bathing suit anyway,” you tell him. “The faster you get it on the floor, the faster you can be inside of me.”

Eddie gets your coverup and bathing suit off in record time. It would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so turned on. His swim trunks go next and then Eddie is lifting you up onto the bathroom counter. There’s not much time to admire his fully naked body before he gets down on his knees in front of you. You wind your fingers through the hair on the top of his head and he looks up at you with wide, hungry eyes. That look alone has you practically dripping for him.

Eddie keeps that eye contact with you as his hands force your legs further apart and he licks a broad stripe up your folds. You’re the one to end the staring contest when the pleasure overwhelms you and your eyes flutter closed, throwing your head back. It knocks against the mirror, but you’re too caught up to notice if it hurt or not.

On the next swipe of Eddie’s tongue, he keeps going up so his tongue is trailing the swell of your belly as well. He presses hot kisses against your bump as he works his way back down again. He repeats the motion, next time taking time to either kiss or run his tongue along the stretch marks. The physical sensation feels amazing, but paired with the way Eddie is making you feel emotionally with his tender touch is making your heart thump even faster.

Every little movement of his makes you feel more cared for, more cherished, and sexy. He’s built you up so high that you have to give a little tug on his curls so he pulls his mouth away from your pussy.

“Need you inside. Now.”

“Anything for the woman carrying my baby.”

You pull his mouth to yours and moan against his tongue as you feel his hands roam your body. His touch soothes over the areas of your breasts where you’ve memorized the stretch marks before moving down and caressing the ones on your stomach again.

Eddie’s hands slide up to your hips and give a quick squeeze. He gently lifts you down from the counter and spins you around to face the mirror. You brace your hands on the counter as Eddie trails soft kisses up the side of your neck.

“Want you to see how fucking hot is when I fuck you like this,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver throughout your body.

You spread your legs, but Eddie wants them farther apart. He nudges them with his knee while he rubs a hand up and down your spine. He fists his cock a few times, making eye contact with you in the mirror as he does so. The way he’s looking at you has you whimpering and whining in anticipation.

Your noises make Eddie smirk, and he lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in, one hand snakes around your body and rests firmly on your baby bump.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans. “I’ll never get over how fucking perfectly we fit together.” He punctuates his statement by tilting your chin slightly upwards so you have no choice but to see yourself in the mirror. You watch as he disappears inside you, your body obeying his every command.

When you rock your hips back against his, Eddie slips his other hand around you to rub circles on your clit. His middle finger finds it easily, slipping through your soaked folds and pressing against the sensitive bud. The feeling is too much; you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming out—the last thing you need is the Harringtons hearing your pathetic whines.

“God, I wanna fill you up so bad, baby,” Eddie hisses, snapping into you furiously as he takes in the view of your body; the view of you watching your body. “Shit, I’d make you pregnant twice over right now if I could.”

“W-Would you always keep me pregnant if you could?” you manage to ask between gasps and whimpers—both yours and Eddie’s.

“Fuck,” Eddie growls. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. “I’ll go buy a damn farm right now to raise all the babies I want to put in you.”

His words make you laugh, which has you squeezing around Eddie’s cock. He moans, drawing you impossibly close against his bare chest.

“They’re babies, not sheep, Eddie.”

“Still need the space to run around,” he muses, making you laugh again.

“I love you so—-oh! So, so much, Eddie.”

He’s ridiculously hard inside of you, fucking into you like his life depends on it. “Shit, I love you too, princess.” His middle finger makes more frantic circles around your clit, throwing you over the edge. “You’ve got a fuckin’ vice grip today, holy shit,” he breathes, willing himself not to finish too early while still being acutely aware of his surroundings.

Your fingers dig into the countertop as each thrust brings you closer to your orgasm. “Right—right there,” you pant, fighting back a moan. “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop.” You come, aided by his magic fingers and your raging hormones, with a soft whine of his name.

“‘M right there, shit, you’re the best little fucktoy,” he grunts. The hint of degradation has you clenching around him again; of course, he immediately takes notice of it. “Y’like that? Y’like being my pregnant little fucktoy? Knocked up with my baby and still beggin’ for more?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stutter, smiling at the reaction your response brings.

Eddie’s pistoning his hips into you, whispering directly in your ear, “So good, so fucking good f’me. Gonna come so deep in this little pussy, mkay? Gonna keep you pregnant, just like you want.”

With a guttural groan, he spills into you. His breath is hot on your shoulder blade as he stays inside, not wanting to withdraw right away. You’re not complaining either, until—

“Are you two finished in there?” Steve’s irritated voice beckons from the other side of the door. Your already sweaty body heats up even more, realizing you’ve been found out. Something about it is also oddly hot, but it’s not the best time to think about that with Eddie still inside of you and Steve on the other side of the door.

“Just a sec!” Eddie calls back, giving your earlobe a gentle nibble as he pulls out, scooping up the cum that’s dripping down your bare leg and stuffing it back into your pussy. ��Had to clean you up,” he murmurs with a salacious grin.

The two of you put your swimsuits back on and fix yourselves as best as you can before Eddie opens up the bathroom door.

Steve just rolls his eyes, barreling past you as he mutters, “Dammit Munson; you already got her pregnant. Relax.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

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eyesofbong · 5 months ago

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Red Spider Lily ꕥ

art cred. @taak_CHOI on twitter/x

❀ pairing. Chrollo Lucilfer x Founding!Spider Reader

❁ warning. mention of death. Just pure angst ♡

✿ word count. 1.5k

✽ sypnosis. unrequited love, is still love isn't it just as beautiful?

A/N: This piece was inspired by the random red spider lily I found this morning, blooming in the middle of my yard right on time for September—its season. It was particularly strange since I’ve never had one grow before. (My dog tried to eat it.) Also, the chain I’ve had since I was a child randomly broke a couple of nights ago after being indestructible for years! I’m taking it all as a sign. side eye...

The crimson flowers danced in the wind, their delicate petals reaching out, as if grasping for something lost in the void. Red spider lilies—each bloom a splash of scarlet against the gray, lifeless earth. They thrived here, in this forsaken field, where death had long claimed dominion. You stood among them, feeling the chill of the breeze slip through the narrow spaces between the petals, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of decay—a cruel reminder that beauty and death often walked hand in hand, inseparable, like lovers bound by some twisted fate.

For a long moment, there was only the wind and the rustle of flowers. You didn’t notice him at first. Not until his voice, soft as a whisper, cut through the silence, slicing into your thoughts like a blade you hadn’t seen coming.

“They say these flowers bloom along the Sanzu River,” Chrollo murmured, each word caressing the air like a secret. “Guiding souls to their next life. A fitting backdrop, don’t you think?”

You turned slowly, as if moving through water, your heart stumbling in your chest. And there he was—Chrollo, standing at the edge of the field. His dark cloak fluttered slightly in the wind, like a shadow with its own life. He looked almost like one of the flowers, swaying in the breeze, a figure easily lost among the shifting light and shadows. He gazed intently at the sea of red, a faint smile playing on his lips, yet it never reached his eyes. Eyes dark and deep, like an abyss that promised to swallow you whole.

His expression was unreadable and distant, as if he were looking at something far away, something only he could see.

“I always thought their beauty was wasted on something so fleeting as death,” he continued, his gaze never wavering. “But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, yet they left you feeling hollow, like an echo of something you couldn’t quite grasp. There was a time when you knew that face so well, when every subtle shift in his expression, every flicker in his eyes, told you more than words ever could. But now, that face was a stranger’s—a mask you could no longer read, a portrait painted with shadows and cold light.

You longed for the warmth you once saw there, the softness that had made you believe in things you knew were impossible. His mind, once an open book, had become a locked room, the key stolen, leaving you stranded on the outside.

He stepped closer, and you felt the air shift around you, charged with something you couldn’t name. Your body tensed, muscles tightening as if preparing for a blow that never came. His fingers brushed against yours, so lightly it might have been a dream, as he handed you a single red spider lily. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, an electric jolt that numbed the ache you carried inside—the yearning you kept hidden, even from yourself.

The flower trembled in your hands, and you held it as if it were made of glass, fragile enough to shatter at the slightest pressure. It felt like a lifeline, a thread binding you to this world, to him. To everything you had ever wanted but knew you could never have. Because this was love to you. A quiet, desperate love with no place in words. A love that thrived in shadows, in stolen glances, in moments when his hand brushed yours and sent your heart racing.

You were content to hide it, to bury it deep where he would never see, because you knew he didn’t need to know. You’d rather pretend. Pretend that this was enough—that his presence, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air, was all you needed.

You looked down at the flower in your hand. It was small and fragile, its petals a deep, crimson red, like drops of blood on bone. It was nothing compared to the treasures you had stolen for him, the riches you had laid at his feet, hoping for a smile, a word, a touch. And yet, it was everything. This single, fleeting gesture—a flower plucked from the earth, handed to you without thought or care—was worth more than anything. The fact that he had given it to you, even with such a cold, detached expression, made your heart flutter like the wings of a dying bird.

Your leader had given you a flower. You could survive on that alone, on the knowledge that, for one brief moment, he had seen you and thought of you.

This was love to you, and you were content with it. Hiding your heart from him because you didn’t need to tell him. You’d rather pretend. Because your love was different—silent, enduring, untouched by the light of day. A love that thrived in quiet spaces, where hope and heartache intertwined like the roots of a tree. You would rather pretend, because its purity was its own reward. It wasn’t about wanting something in return. You knew he would never love you back—not in the way you loved him. And that was fine. You had accepted it long ago.

Your love was about loving him so deeply that you were willing to feel everything, even the pain of knowing he would never feel the same. You had become accustomed to that pain; it had become part of you, a constant companion, a reminder that you were alive, that you could love, even if that love would never be returned.

Your love had survived against all odds, even after he had led the massacre of the Kurta. It was a love that filled the spaces between words left unsaid, in looks that lingered too long, in the silent longing that never truly faded. He had always been out of reach, even when you were children. Always slipping through your fingers like smoke, like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto.

Perhaps that’s why you clung to him so tightly, why you adopted his ideas as your own, why you never questioned his decisions. You would do anything for him. Anything, if it meant you could stay by his side just a little longer, even if that light were cold and indifferent.

Your love was both a gift and a burden, a testament to the heart’s ability to love fiercely without the promise of anything in return. Pakunoda had seen it—the way your love consumed you, the way it burned like a slow, smoldering fire that refused to go out.

“Can you make these feelings go away?” You had whispered to her once, hiding your face in her shoulder, her arms the only sanctuary you knew. “Can you make it stop?”

The sharp pain of the chain cutting into your heart brought you back to the present, tearing you away from that memory. Blood warmed your lips, pooling at the corners of your mouth, and the world around you blurred into a mess of color and sound. You clung to the lily he had given you, cradling it close even as the chains tightened around you, threatening to crush it in your grasp.

You didn’t blame Chrollo. Not for your pain, not for your death. These were choices you had made willingly, with your eyes open and your heart laid bare. You would make them again, a thousand times over, if it meant you could have this—a flower, a moment, a breath in his presence.

The chain user was gone, and you felt the presence of the other Troupe members drawing nearer, their shouts growing fainter in your ears, echoes from a place you could no longer reach. You had seen all the signs. You had known. But still, you had chosen to believe. To pretend. Because it was easier than facing the truth.

Your vision blurred, but you felt him there, his arms around you, holding you close. For a moment, your heart surged with hope—a foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, he cared. That maybe, this time, he would say something—anything to make the pain go away.

Your fingers tightened around the withering red spider lily, its petals soft and fragile against your skin. Through blurry vision, your eyes searched his face, desperate for a sign. But all you found was the same unreadable mask, the same cold distance. The silence between you was suffocating, more painful than any wound.

In that silence, you finally understood—he would never love you the way you loved him. You were just another piece on his board, another pawn in his game.

“But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your grip weakened, and the flower slipped from your fingers, its petals scattering like the remnants of your heart.

So, you let go. Not just of the flower, but of the love that had been your constant torment. You released it into the wind, into the void between you, accepting the truth you had fought so hard to deny.

Maybe, as you crossed the Sanzu River, you would see the cities he burned—for you.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #chrollo lucifer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x y/n #chrollo x you #hxh chrollo #phantom troupe #chrollo fanfic #chrollo angst #pakunoda

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cactusdrinkstea · 5 months ago

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─ ‧ ִ ۫✭ Beautiful mess

Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Summary: You saved Vil from getting his looks messed up from a failed potion and now he feels conflicted about it.

Word count: 1105

I loved how I wrote this one. I may write a part 2 with Vil pampering the reader perhaps. I will see later on -w-

══════ ⋆★⋆ ═══════ ⋆★⋆ ═══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Looking absolutely divine was second nature to Vil. An art cultivated by him across the years to attract as many looks as possible. It could be described as a talent, but Vil also liked to think of it as his passion. Presentation was always the most important part, he always thought that way.

If you presented yourself with good looks, everyone would listen to you and be at your whim, and even if they weren’t, your beauty would stand out more than anything else. That’s how he always thought.

That day he was passing through the halls at NRC, it was no different than any other regular day. He had a book under his arm, heading outside from his history lesson. Usually his mind was focused, but that particular time he was thinking of something else. Thinking about his next possible photo shoot or if the beauty product he started to try was an improvement from the previous one. He could only hear faint muffled voices from some first years.

“You messed it up! This is your fault! Now Crewel will fail us for real”

“My fault? That furball poured the wrong quantities!”

“Hey stop tugging it, you guys will drop it!”

“How is ‘more’ a bad thing?! More is always better!”

Those were the rambles he blocked in his mind. Stuff he didn’t even want to get involved in. That was until he heard a warning that he didn’t pay attention to, and by the time he noticed he was being shoved to the side. He stumbled back at the unexpected motion, staring in surprise as his book fell out of his hands, the noise of glass shattering into pieces filled his ears. He fixed the strands of hair that went out of place and he stared back up.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He snapped until he stared at the scene in front of him.

“Deuce, Ace, of course this involves you both, I can’t believe I am caught in the middle of—” He was about to rant until he saw the state of the last person in the trio.

From head to toe, your body was covered in a weird substance. It looked like a potion gone wrong. From the texture to the color. A familiar potato covered in disgusting potion gunk. How could a potion be so runny and sticky at the same time?! It was like bubblegum mixed with water. Your usually plain looking face looked completely ruined, and if it was wearing any makeup before, he couldn’t even notice it anymore.

"Lovely..." You said sarcastically as the other two fools apologized over and over again when they stared at you. You told them it wasn't a big deal and then you looked at Vil

"You okay, housewarden?" You asked him, face still stained. Those eyes looking relieved to know it didn't get all over him, since instead you took the hit.

"I...What did you do that for? You just—" Vil didn’t even know how to feel. He seemed surprised, dumbfounded, and even angry, especially because he had been so careless not to notice the potion drop in the first place. It was the first time someone had jumped in front of him like this to avoid something bad happening to his looks. He was usually the one to be taking care of them, no one else did.

"Ah, you are okay. It would have been a shame if it fell on you. I know how much you care about your looks”

Now that truly shocked him, it felt as if the potion had fallen on him. No, it felt as if ten potions combined had just splashed onto his face.

He felt a warm cozy feeling into his chest. Gratitude? Fondness? He couldn’t put his thoughts into words. Not only that but, since when did your face look so pretty? It didn’t make any sense. To any standard the way you looked was absolutely messy. Your usually clean hair looked sticky and the strands were stuck together. Your cheeks were covered in that slimy substance. That perfect uniform was stained and would probably need more than a singular wash. And yet with all of those things combined, he had never seen such a cute face before. No makeup needed, no fancy clothes or the most amazing hair. None of that. It only took a little kind potato protecting him to feel that way.

Your eyes looking happily at him had never seemed so shiny and adorable. He snapped out of his thoughts and he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and started to walk up to you.

"Yes, I am alright. I am more worried about you, that concoction looked like it was probably poorly made. Just look at what it did to your poor appearance” Vil softly wiped the sticky potion from your face. The last thing he wanted was for that cute skin to be left with any nasty spots, or your complexion would be ruined. He was even doing it more tenderly than usual.

"What are you two doing creating any kind of potions anyway? With the looks of it this could easily be poison…” He said sternly to the first years, to which they only stepped back a little.

“We were doing an assignment that went a little wrong. No harm done, right?” Ace said until he got elbowed by Deuce.

“Clearly you guys don’t know how to make one!” Grim added but was promptly ignored.

“We messed it up in the process and then we all started to fight over it. We didn’t mean to drop it” Deuce sheepishly replied. Vil sighed and decided to focus all of his attention on his potato instead.

“You’re not going to your room like this. You’re going to my dorm” He spoke firmly, already starting to drag you in the direction of Pomefiore’s mirror chamber. You were already trying to argue back, saying it wasn’t a big deal and that you would handle it, but whenever Vil had something in mind it had to be done.

Right now he had to clean you up, give you a new wardrobe, the best skin and hair routine ever to fix that sticky mess and then maybe even try new makeup. He was going to take care of you just as much as you had taken care of him during that incident. Although deep down he was sure you wouldn't look as cute and beautiful as you had when you first saved him back in the halls. He had to keep that beautiful memory all to himself.

───────────────

┆ ┆ ┆ ┆⋆

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ °

┆彡 ✩

#twst wonderland #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #x reader #romance #fluff #pomefiore

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mediumgayitalian · 8 months ago

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fic rec friday 16

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

best friend, baby by @ghosttotheparty*

“You— You make me feel so… good,” he finishes lamely, his head void of any words that could describe it, because how can Will describe the peace he finds in Nico’s presence, or the way he feels like he can finally breathe whenever Nico looks into his eyes? “You’re my favourite person,” he breathes. “My best friend.”

hooooooo boy the intimacy tag was NOT joking. i was gagged. yall tell me all the time how high u value will angst and like....this one DEVASTATED me for him??? like do yall ever think about how the first dialogue we hear from will in nico's perspective is self-loathing. yall ever think about how nico has always known him hating himself. well this author did. "i know you hate yourself but just because you hate yourself doesnt mean everyone else does too" hey what if we FOUGHT. also im going back in to all my FRFs to star my FAVE FAVE FAVE fics bc this is one of them LET ME TELL YOU.

2. just a dumb game by @ghosttotheparty

Nico di Angelo is not a party person. But Will Solace is going to be there. So.

they are SO FUCKING GAY and SO FUCKING IN LOVE and SO FUCKING STUPID. god i love them so fucking bad like they are inherently down bad obsessed with each other and this is how they should be. this is the way of the world.

3. even in the silver light by @ghosttotheparty

Nico is back. Will is still smitten.

first of all. latino and nb will. thank you. second of all. i am (obviously) obsessed with this author bc they KILLLLLL w burning intimacy. like you have no idea they write them like there is a twice burning fire only alive within them it's CRAZZZYYY. i also fckn LOVE that this is like. okay so the author says its plotless and it is kind of 45k of plotless, yes, but idk theres something to be said of love as a plot?? of learning and loving each other as a storyline.

4. splash by @ghosttotheparty

Annabeth is reading her favourite book. Someone walks directly into her.

yeah okay i think this is another one author week. sue me. this fic made me GRIN okay. it was so fucking cute and sweet and soft and autistic annabeth my beloved!! my love and light!! they are so in love in every universe fr and i fckn LOVE them dude i am OBSESSED. when this author writes people together it's as if you can hear them click.

5. isnt she lovely by @ghosttotheparty

Their eyes always meet in the halls. Her eyes are grey and shiny, and they make Percy think of stormy skies and marble sculptures. (She could be a marble sculpture, in the entrance of a museum, surrounded by scholars and artists and mesmerised passersby. Fucking beautiful in a way that only art ever is.) - - - Percy has had a crush on Annabeth since eighth grade. (He doesn’t know she likes him too.)

percy hitting the ground when annabeth kisses him 😭😭 HES SO REAL. i just recced this fic on instagram and i am here reccing it again bc it is EXCELLENT. i rly rly love to see pjotv percabeth in fic like i DO. theyre so fucking cute. and i LOVE how this author writes autistic annabeth!! it is so important to me!!! and this one is so CUTE like percy had such a huge crush on him.....like not just he liked her he had a CRUSH on her. god. i am melting.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

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hwasoup · 10 months ago

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Tale As Old As Time

playlist

art credit: marbipa hey guyyyss im backkk!! I had a great break and I even had fun with it as well, the loooonngg awaited Chapter 6 has finally arrived. Now to continue I also have created a discord server for us Miguel lovers out there, the only requirements are to simply be 18+ and that's it !!also you may get to chat with your favorite ff writers on the server !!

click on this and you'll be redirected to the server !

enjoy reading guyss !!

and dont forget to ask me to add you to the taglist !!

Warnings: some angst and lots of rotting fluff Words: 1.9k

Chapter 6: La Belle et La Bete

Later that night as the beast takes a bath…

“YOU SAID WHAT ?!” “I KNOW I KNOW…I well… we were sitting outside out at the rose garden and well.. I said that she made the world look more beautiful and if I could have a dance with her.. I NEVER expected she would say YES ?!” Miguel said as another bucket of warm water got doused over his body. He sputtered some of the water away from his lips as he wiped his face from the water. “What was I thinking Peter…” Peter chuckles “No, Miguel… It's perfect, you know that the rose has a few petals left which means that by the time the dance shall be held, you can confess your feelings for her”. Miguel gets up from the tub and looks over the curtain “I feel like an idiot…she won't ever love me anyways” Miguel shakes his body from all the water, splashing Peter in the process.

“You know she is the one” “Oh quit it Peter..” Miguel said discouraged…”i shall see you in the morning” he said as he put on some clothes and retired for the night. Peter on the other hand smiled and left his bedroom to meet with the rest of the staff.

As Peter arrived at the kitchen,Jess was in the kitchen as always directing the dishes, forks, and knives to their respective drawers. Miles was simply watching over little Mayday, Gwen was dusting the shelves with her plumes, and Lyla was simply just chatting away with Pavitir

“Everyone, we have work to do, Miguel has finally and formally asked Y/N to a dance…. it's finally time to make this castle shine!”

Miles cheers “and we’ll be human again !!” Jess sighed as she envisioned herself as her ladylike self “human again indeed…” Peter smiled, “When I’m human again, I’ll be good looking again, and I’ll be able to hug my baby in my arms again!” Miles cheers “when I’m human again, I’m going to run out into the garden just to feel the blood rush to my feet!” Jess chirps in “we’ll all get our chance to do what we miss when we’re human again, but for now…we have a dance to prepare!”

The entirety of the staff who lived in the castle cheered in excitement as they could finally tend and maintain their home. Pavitir, who was in the ballroom, started playing music on his keys to compose enough songs for Miguel and Y/N to dance to. Hobie, in y/n’s room, started picking and choosing fabrics in his cabinets and deciding which color suited Y/N the most as well. The brooms started sweeping, the mops and buckets started to work together to start cleaning the floor as well, the coat hangers helped pulling down the dilapidated curtains throughout the castle and replacing them with new curtains, the candles started organizing themselves onto the chandelier, and the cook had started picking and choosing courses for the dinner that will be eaten.

______________________________________________________________

A week later…The day of the dance has arrived, and here Miguel is taking a huge bath in the tub. Soap is constantly lathered onto his fur, and dirt is removed each time until the water turns clear.

“I-I I’m not so sure I can do this…” Miguel says hesitantly. Peter scoffs “Oh please, Tonight is the night you’ll be able to confess to her, It’s now or nothing!” Miguel looks down as he has a bucket of water thrown over his body “b-but…what can I do?” Peter rolls his eyes “oh please, you have to be bold, daring, and smooth” Miguel nodded as he took note of what Peter was telling him.

After his bath he was taken to his vanity and sat there as Peter kept on babbling in excitement “There will be romantic music, candlelight provided by Lyla and Miles and when the moment is right, you profess your love to her” Miguel sighed “oh please… how would I even know when the time is right?” Jess, who was standing on the vanity with Miles, Gwen, and Lyla all looked at him as they saw his nervousness. “Just some tips from a woman, all you gotta do is woo her with the music” Gwen pitches in “I think you’ll get nauseous when telling the truth...” Miles tries to encourage him “I think you’ll do fine sir…”

Peter looks at him and sighs “stop being so nervous and just tell Y/N how you feel because I swear you will be drinking cold tea for the rest of your life!” Miguel gulped a little and nodded. The hairdresser finally arrived and immediately started working on Miguel’s fur, Others who worked in beauty polished his claws, brushed his teeth, cleaned his horns, and added perfumes onto him. Gwen used her feathers to add foundation onto his face and add his makeup. By the time they were all finished, they turned him around to look at the mirror and everyone’s face dropped .... clearly…the poodle looking updo and white makeup did not look great on his fur. “Ok…I-I can fix this" Peter says.

On the other hand, at the east wing, Hobie was helping Y/N getting into her golden gown. The two of them worked together as Y/N picked the design and Hobie used his magic to make the gown come to life. After Y/N got into the dress, Hobie looked at her and hummed “There sum missin ‘ere” He then looked into his drawers one more time and pulled out some gold accents. The wardrobe smiled at Y/N as it decorated her gown and added sparkle and shine “now yer ready Dovie” he says softly. Jess arrived at her door and cleared her throat “it is time...”

Y/N stepped out of her room and stood by her side of the stairs, on the other side she spotted Miguel, his mane was tied with a ribbon in the back and wore an extravagant blue suit. Y/N blushed a little at his appearance, seeing how his arms bulged out a bit from his suit and how tall and gentlemanly he stood. Miguel on the other side saw her and his heart melted, she was truly gorgeous and seemed extremely precious in his eyes. The two slowly descended from each side of the staircase and met in the middle. “Join me for dinner?” Adenira smiled and nodded as she held onto his arm and walked alongside him for dinner. The two sat beside each other and enjoyed a nice 3 course meal, the two laughed and dined and enjoyed a pleasant meal together. Eventually Pavitir arrived with a small ensemble and started playing music. Y/N heard it and smiled and got up and grabbed both of his arms “come, dance with me “she said excitedly. Miguel was just too enamored by her and got up with her to the ballroom. “Pero…no sé cómo bailar…” Y/N smiled and brought his arm around her waist and held his hand on the other side “then learn with me” She then started waltzing with him. Miguel was a little awkward but eventually figured out how to dance with her and confidently led her and twirled her around the ballroom. Y/N was just so happy to be dancing with him and laid her head against his warm furry chest. The two waltzed and waltzed until both of their feet hurt. Once the two danced their hearts out, Miguel led her out onto the balcony and looked at the stars with her. He sat down on a ledge and nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he built some courage to speak to her.

“Y/N?” Miguel says tenderly. Y/N looked up at him and smiled as he got closer and held her hands. “Estás feliz conmigo ?” Y/N smiled at him and nodded “claro que si” she said softly but then she suddenly looked down. Miguel noticed and frowned “what’s wrong?” Y/N sighed... “Well…it’s just that…I wish I could just see my papa…por solo un momento…I miss him dearly...” Miguel looked disheartened for her and thought about how to make her wish come true. Then he remembered…the magic mirror, He smiled at her and held her hands tightly “there is a way, come follow me!”

He excitedly took her all the way to his room in the west wing and took her to where the rose was on the table. On the side there was the mirror. He took the mirror into his hands and handed it to her “this mirror can show you anything you wish to see” Y/N took the mirror into her hands and whispered, “I’d like to see mi papa…please” The mirror glowed yellow and revealed to her the current state of her father. In the mirror it showed Mauricio lying in bed weakly with what seemed to show that he was ill and with a fever. “No…papa…” she said worriedly “Esta Enfermo, h-he may be dying and he’s all alone” she said looking up at Miguel. Miguel looked at her with worry as well, he didn’t want Y/N to feel so anguished over her father’s current state. He took a look at the rose and looked at it with all the pain in his eyes…. he knew what to do…he knew the consequences…and he knew…that this could be goodbye... “Then...you must go to him.”

“Que?” Y/N looked at him surprised and approached him. “I release you… you’re no longer my prisoner...” Y/N looked at him with relief and with much empathy towards him “I’m free?” “Yes…”

Y/N approached him to return the mirror to him. “No…keep it.. So you could at least have something to remember me by” Miguel looked at her lovingly and also with much hurt in his eyes. He had to take in her appearance one more time before she left, caressing her hair and watching as the locks fell from his paws. “Thank you for understanding how much he needs me now.” she said softly. Y/N’s eyes were filled with gratitude and with so much tenderness…she was afraid of never seeing him again, but at least the magic mirror would give her peace of mind if she wished to see him again. Y/N caressed his face one last time and left the room. Miguel reached towards her but stopped himself. His ears drooped and he sighed.

Jess noticed Y/N walking away from the room and she peeked in to talk to Miguel “I hope I can assume that everything went perfectly” she said with a smirk. “I let her go.” “What? But why? how could you do that Migs ?!” Jess said in shock. Peter walked in and his heart dropped as well watching the scene before him. “I had to Jessica…I did it because…I Love Her...”

Jess sighed and walked out of the room to break the news to the rest of the staff. Little Mayday sniffled “so I won't bwe a whittle girl again?” Miles hugged her tightly as he comforted her. Lyla sighed “but we were so close!” Peter chuckled to himself as he looked down dejected “After all of these years, He’s finally learned to love.”

Heartbroken, Miguel watches Y/N ride Felipe out the palace gardens and to the gates And he roared….

taglist:

@cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles,@xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n,

@badbishsblog, @faimmm, @texanadmirer, @stargirrls, @itzsab,@delectableworm,@jadeloverxd @pinkmistart, @kishimiest, @beabfleab

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel atsv

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zerun0 · 3 months ago

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"The Colors of Us" — Viktor x Y/N (Gender-Neutral)

And this is my third story on the universe of Arcane !

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

Heavily inspired by — "What happens in the bathhouse... " by LinkyDinks —

— ! WARNING NSFW (+18): ! — Established relationship, sexual themes, Flirting, Hot tub, Teasing, Masturbation. — Word count: — 2,9k (Full uncut version on AO3)

Piltover was a city of progress. Tall spires of metal and glass soared above, glittering with the promises of science and invention. Airships cut through the sky like graceful birds, and beneath their flight, the streets bustled with a mix of inventors, artisans, and scholars from the prestigious Piltover Academy. Among them was Y/N, an artist, seeking to find their place in the city of progress through the lens of creativity, which often felt out of step with the methodical precision Piltover demanded.

Art was Y/N’s form of rebellion, a splash of chaos in a place where everything had its place and function. Though some in the Academy dismissed their work as frivolous, others—like Viktor—saw the genius in it. Viktor, with his brilliant mind and soul shaped by invention, had always been a reserved but sharp-eyed companion. To Y/N, he was more than just an intellectual ally; he was a kindred spirit, even if they expressed their gifts in drastically different ways.

It was rare that Viktor took time away from his work, so when Y/N invited him out for a quiet evening in the upper levels of Piltover, it was a surprising to see the tired one accept it.

"Just one night,” Viktor had said in his soft, accented voice. “I think... I could... we, we both could use a break.”

— Small time skip: Around 7:24 pm —

As they walked together beneath the glittering streetlamps of Piltover’s wealthiest district, the air crackled with the shared energy of anticipation.

"The Grand Hotel" was nothing short of breathtaking. It stood tall, adorned with the finest Piltover could offer—gilded archways, lush tapestries that draped the walls like fine paintings, and crystal chandeliers that gleamed in warm golden hues. For an artist, it was almost overwhelming, the richness of it all. But it also held the charm of something fleeting, a place far removed from the gritty streets and the cold laboratories.

“Quite the place, isn’t it?” Y/N mused as they entered the lavish lobby, stealing a glance at Viktor. He looked as composed as ever, his face framed by his dark brown hair, the glow of the dim lights making the sharp lines of his features seem even more striking.

He gave a rare, almost shy smile. “It is… a bit excessive. But I thought perhaps it would make for a change of pace.”

They made their way to the front desk, where a young attendant greeted them with impeccable manners and a smile polished like the marble floors. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, they were handed a key.

“Your suite is on the top floor,” the attendant said, bowing slightly.

Y/N’s had mentioned nothing about staying at a hotel, much less in a suite. Viktor's curiosity piqued. It wasn’t like him to indulge in luxuries like this. His usual quarters were cramped and bare, filled only with his inventions and research papers. Still, Viktor followed without complaint, knowing Y/N’s always had their reasons.

The elevator ride was swift and silent, taking them to the topmost floor, where their suite awaited.

The room itself was a masterpiece of elegance, but Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to the massive window that stretched across one wall, revealing a panoramic view of Piltover at night. The city’s lights glittered like stars, reflecting off the calm waters of the river far below.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, walking toward the window, captivated by the beauty of it all.

Viktor followed a few steps behind, his cane tapping gently against the marble floor. He stood beside them, his golden-brown eyes quietly taking in the view, though Y/N suspected his thoughts were far away, perhaps on some new invention or scientific discovery. Still, there was a certain calmness about him tonight, a softness that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Viktor said, turning to face them. “I didn’t realize you knew such places existed.”

His tone was light, but there was something deeper in his gaze as he looked at Y/N. Something unspoken, but undeniably present.

After a shared dinner in the suite’s private dining area—a delicious meal accompanied by wine neither of them usually had time to enjoy—Viktor excused himself for a moment. Y/N took the opportunity to wander the room a bit more, letting their fingers trail along the silk sheets and finely crafted furniture. A door to the side caught their attention, and they opened it to reveal a luxurious bathroom.

And at its center, a large, marble hot tub.

Y/N's eyes widened. It was set in an alcove surrounded by lush plants, steam already rising from the warm water. It looked like something out of a dream, a place meant for relaxation, indulgence, and... something more.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled Y/N from their thoughts. Viktor stood there, his jacket now discarded, leaving him in a simple shirt and trousers. His eyes flickered toward the hot tub, and a faint blush crept up his neck.

There was a silence... then Y/N spoke — “Would you like to join me?” Y/N asked softly, stepping closer.

Viktor hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “A-are you sure?”

"I would be more than happy" — Y/N said, their hand fixing a strand of hair in Viktor's face, you had flirted before, but you felt bold and courageous today.

Y/N started to undress as they watched Viktor's face turn red, the scientist tried to avoid looking upon their bare, naked body. But a few curious glances found their way towards Y/N, as they turned and approached the hot tub.

The warmth of the water was immediate, soothing, and Y/N felt their body relax as they sank into it. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the room, casting long shadows that danced across the marble tiles. — "Now... will you join me, handsome?"

Viktor hesitated, red, and stuttering for his dear life, as he could not think straight. But soon nervously removed his clothes as if his desire took control of his movements. — Then followed them in, moving carefully due to his bad leg. Once he was settled, a small sigh escaped him as the heat worked its way through his tense muscles and pounding heart.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle ripple of water and the soft crackle of the candles. Viktor leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closed, and Y/N couldn’t help but watch him. He looked different like this—vulnerable, almost human in a way that the world often didn’t allow him to be.

Y/N’s fingers twitched. They had an overwhelming desire to touch him, to capture this moment not with paint, but with their hands. And so, without thinking too much, they shifted closer, their hand brushing against Viktor’s.

His eyes fluttered open at the contact, a question in them, but Y/N merely smiled. Slowly, cautiously, Y/N raised a hand to cup Viktor’s jaw, their thumb grazing the line of his cheek.

“You’ve been tense,” Y/N whispered. “I can feel it.”

Viktor didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly, leaning into the touch. It was as if he were starved for it, for that gentle connection, though he rarely allowed himself such indulgences.

“It’s difficult not to-o be,” he replied, his voice soft yet so nervous. “But with you… it is e-easier.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the admission. They shifted even closer, so that their knees brushed under the water, the steam swirling around them like a veil. They could see the faint rise and fall of Viktor’s chest, his breaths a little shallower now. Under water an clear erection as he looked to Y/N eyes.

“Let me help you relax..” Y/N murmured, their voice low and intimate.

Viktor swallowed, his throat bobbing under Y/N’s hand. He didn’t protest, didn’t resist, and that was all the permission Y/N needed.

With slow, deliberate movements, Y/N slid their hands over Viktor’s shoulders, feeling the tension there, the strain of years spent hunched over workbenches and machines. They began to massage the knots from his muscles, fingers working with gentle pressure all the way down to his most intimate areas, holding it gently and seductively. Viktor’s breath hitched slightly at first, but then he let out a soft exhale, his body slowly melting under their touch.

“Y/N,” Viktor whispered, his voice a little ragged now, filled with something more than just gratitude. It was want, need—things he rarely expressed, but that Y/N could feel in the way his body responded to their touch.

Y/N leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Viktor’s jaw, just below his ear. They felt him shiver, though the water was still warm. The heat between them was palpable now, a simmering tension that neither of them seemed eager to break.

Viktor’s hand came up then, tentative at first, but soon firm, resting on Y/N’s hip beneath the water. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to break the spell between them. But Y/N welcomed it, their body responding instinctively, leaning into his touch, as they continued to masturbate the shy one.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their soft breaths and the faint lapping of water against the sides of the tub.

Then Viktor’s lips found Y/N’s, tentative at first, his breath shaky with uncertainty. He was gentle, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters of a world he rarely allowed himself to enter. But the warmth of Y/N’s touch, the reassurance in their closeness, softened his reservations. Y/N responded with equal tenderness, their lips moving against his with a quiet, unhurried rhythm, savoring the moment.

Viktor’s hand, trembling slightly, found its way to Y/N’s waist beneath the water. His touch was tentative, but there was a quiet intensity to it, his fingers curling around their side as if anchoring himself. For a moment, he stopped their partner's hand from touching their intimacy, afraid to break too early. His forehead resting against theirs as they both caught their breath, the silence between them thick with anticipation.

“You don’t have to hold back,” Y/N murmured against his lips, their fingers tracing the edge of his collarbone. “Not with me.”

The next kiss was different. It was still soft, still careful, but there was a need behind it now, a slow-burning intensity that hadn’t been there before. Viktor’s hand, once hesitant, moved with more confidence, sliding up from their waist to the small of their back, pulling them closer as his lips parted, deepening the kiss. Y/N responded in kind, their arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through the damp strands of his hair as they pressed their bodies closer under the water.

Y/N could feel his restraint slipping, the careful control he usually held onto crumbling as their hands moved over him, as their lips met again and again in a heated, desperate rhythm. Viktor’s hands slid lower, his fingers tracing patterns on their back, their waist, the feel of his touch sending shivers through Y/N.

Their hands roamed over each other, exploring, searching, the water lapping gently around them as they moved. Viktor’s hand slipped under the water, resting on Y/N’s thigh, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through them. Y/N gasped softly against his lips, their own hands moving to mirror his touch, fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of his hips.

Viktor groaned softly, the sound low and desperate, and it only spurred Y/N on, their touches becoming bolder, more confident.

“I’ve-e wanted th-h-his… for so long,” Viktor murmured against their lips, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that made Y/N’s heart ache.

Y/N kissed him deeply, their hands cupping his face, their thumbs brushing his cheeks as they whispered back, “Me too, Viktor.”

For a moment, everything else faded away. There was no Piltover, no Academy, no responsibilities or pressures. There was only them, tangled together in the warm water, their lips and hands exploring, their hearts pounding in unison. It was slow, it was heated, and it was perfect—two souls finding solace in each other, in the quiet spaces between invention and creation.

Now, there was simply Y/N on the skinny scientist member, their touch subtle and gentle, as they did their best to drive Viktor into their release with rhythmic movements ... up... and down, like they painted a masterpiece of pleasure.

And then, with a quiet gasp, Viktor’s body tensed, his grip on Y/N tightening as he reached the edge, his breath catching in his throat as the tension finally broke, as he allowed himself to cum, as all his fluids mixed with the water.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Viktor allowed himself to relax completely. His head rested against Y/N’s, his lips barely brushing their neck as he let out a soft, contented sigh. The vulnerability of the moment settled between them, and Y/N could feel the quiet gratitude in the way Viktor held onto them, the way he let himself simply be there, with no pressure, no expectations—just them.

They pressed a soft kiss to his temple, letting their lips linger there for a moment before they whispered, "Viktor… maybe we should get out of here."

He stirred slightly at the sound of their voice, blinking slowly as if coming back to the present. His cheeks flushed, not just from the heat of the tub but from the lingering embarrassment that seemed to settle in the air now that the moment had passed. Viktor shifted against Y/N, his body weak from both exhaustion and the vulnerability of the night.

“I… yes,” he murmured, though his voice was soft, almost hesitant. His hand, still resting gently on Y/N’s side, trembled ever so slightly. “I think that… would be wise.”

Viktor sat up a little, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided Y/N’s gaze, his usual reserved demeanor slipping back into place, though there was still a softness in his expression

Y/N stood, the cool air hitting their skin as they stepped out of the tub, offering Viktor a hand to help him up. He hesitated for a moment, his golden-brown eyes flicking up to meet theirs with a hint of sheepishness, before taking their hand. His legs felt unsteady as he rose, and Y/N could feel the slight tremble in his grip as he steadied himself.

Once they were both out, Y/N handed Viktor a towel, watching as he carefully dried himself off, still avoiding eye contact. His cheeks were still flushed, and Y/N could see the faint quirk of a shy smile on his lips, though he did his best to hide it.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked softly, stepping closer and resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Viktor nodded, though he let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “I am… perhaps a bit more tired than I anticipated.” His voice was quiet, a little breathless, and Y/N could tell he was still processing everything that had just happened.

“Then let’s get you to bed,” Y/N said with a warm smile, their hand sliding down to lace their fingers through his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Viktor’s eyes met theirs for a brief moment, and he nodded, clearly relieved by the suggestion.

Together, they made their way to the bed in the center of the room, the sheets looking impossibly inviting after the intense heat of the hot tub. Viktor sat down on the edge first, his shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of his usual stoicism had been lifted, leaving only the exhaustion of the night.

Y/N slid in beside him, wrapping their arms around him from behind, pulling him gently into a soft embrace. Viktor leaned into their touch, his body instinctively relaxing against theirs. The tension that had built up over so many years, in both his work and his emotions, seemed to melt away in the quiet safety of Y/N’s arms.

He let out a soft, almost contented sigh, his head resting back against Y/N’s shoulder. “I… I never thought I would feel this… close to someone,” Viktor admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the air like a confession.

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck, holding him tighter. “You deserve this, Viktor. You deserve to be cared for, to have someone by your side.”

He smiled weakly, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned more fully into their embrace, his exhaustion catching up with him. “Perhaps,” he whispered, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “But I… I do not know what I would do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out,” Y/N whispered softly, their hands tracing light circles on his chest as they cuddled closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#viktor #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane fanfic #smut

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chiyoso · 1 year ago

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breaking the 4th wall: jing yuan

following content: insomnia, self conscious doubt, comfort, self aware au, something personal for those who have trouble with loneliness, insomnia and exhaustion.

author notes: im tired and its 3am, but jing yuan exists so have this comfort fic. also @ainescribe gift for your hardworking ass, ily aine feel better.

Your eyelids grew heavy, laid against the arm rest of the warm sofa, scrolling and tapping away at your phone for anything, any eventful thing that can spark a motivation, an inspiration to you.

It's eating you away. Death scrolling, letting the blue light affect your sleep instead of earning a sleep that your body desperately needs for tomorrow.

Yet, your fingers can't seem to stop moving, as if it had a mind on its own, causing further subconscious guilt and shame, a knowing voice gnawing and belittling behind your state of self, commenting on your disheveled, tired appearance, bags underneath your eyes, your flesh warning you of your stress and lack of self care that you couldn't find the time to do anymore. Shit, and the studying you have to do tomorrow.

All that, but your fingers never leave the glass screen.

3:25 AM Sun, Aug 6 ᯤ [▂] 22%

[Honkai: Star Rail] · PomPom: [Username]! Your trailblaz···

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[Tumblr] · hiraethsdesires just posted a post...

[Weather] · 28° in [Place] Feels like 33° · Mostly Cloudy · S...

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⊗

“Finally.” You said, tapping the first notification.

You sighed, the notif reminding you of your shitty sleep schedule. It had originally updated you at the early mornings, gradually turning into afternoons, then the evening... night... and...

You were brought back to reality from the sound of the lobby theme, the Astral Express, traveling in your sight, wishing you would be reincarnated into such a life, meeting the ones who made this horrible, tedious lifespan bearable.

Once you hit tap, you were greeted with a loading screen that had Jing Yuan's fact along the bottom, earning a faint smile from you as the image of his splash art pops up in your mind.

Jing Yuan: The Divine Foresight, one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance, leads the Cloud Knights of the Xianzhou Luofu. A student of the Luofu's previous Sword Champion, though not known for his martial prowess.

You were greeted by the sight of Jing Yuan's pixels as always, greeting him bubbly and warmly as you spin him around to face you, zooming into his features, especially admiring his beauty mark under his eye.

“Pretty, so damn pretty,” You hum, moving onto other features, before resuming, checking your daily tasks.

Now what were you doing at this time of night?

You wouldn't know, you will never know, but he will always appreciate the way you greet him every day, but this day—being the observant, Arbiter General that he is, he notices your slurred, tired voice, but still coated with affection that he enjoyed quite a lot. He didn't quite like the bags underneath your pretty eyes that he will take glances of every chance he can get. He didn't like how you were feigning ignorance to your bodily needs, on how you were sacrificing sleep to play.

You led him to the cavern of corrosion; Path of the Holy Hymm once again, endlessly grinding the perfect relics for your main dps, wasting all your trailblaze powder for him. Bronya, Tingyun and Luocha snickered to themselves on how much you spoil the Arbiter General, on how much you baby him lovingly despite his commanding, superior status as the Xianzhou Luofu's face, causing his cheeks to grow hot in result of your affectionate words whenever you go to the character screen, setting and upgrading his relics.

“So strong my general...” His breath got caught to his throat upon hearing you, his blush deepening from the sudden suggestive tone in your voice.

The character screen was filled with the various people that you earned, and they were giggling and smirking slyly to your gestures, making his arms full of materials from the endless grind you did, all for him—a bonus as well, he didn't feel any shred of guilt as you do the same towards the others, but he was just your very, very favorite, and he knew all about it from your vocal prowess.

He would find your curses endearing when you get a shitty relic, but he would soon then join your annoyance as this body relic had stats befitting for a damn healer, might as well give it to Bailu since she's the same element, and fortunately a healer. (In which case you did.)

...

You worried him. Once you were done with your tasks and finishing off your remaining trailblaze powder, your eyelids threatened to shut, giving the Arbiter General a feeling that he hadn't felt in awhile, a certain dread, and a strong one at that towards the player who felt strongly about him.

Your consciousness was drifting, your lids weighing down, but the unthinkable happened.

On the top left corner under the map, a red exclamation mark appears on the chat logo, your tired eyes noticing the sudden mark, giving you a burst of little energy.

You blinked a few times, rubbing your lids gently before landing your irises upon the message again.

Was this a new message update?

A new trailblaze mission?

An event leak? Hoyoverse tease...?

You shook your head, regaining focus to check the patch notes in the game, seemingly finding nothing about any update, but your search doesn't stop there, you looked through the official website, hoyolabs, tumblr, youtube, heck even reddit—but none have mentioned a message regarding to this.

Deciding to remain quiet about this ordeal, you went back to the game to find another message, and another, his restlessness growing evident as the moonlight continues to dawn over your world.

3:38 AM Sun, Aug 6 ᯤ [▂] 19%

[Honkai: Star Rail] · 2 new messages from ▉▉▉▉ ▉▉▉▉ ···

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⊗

What- What the fuck?

Your throat lumped to the sight of the first notification, its whole box felt out of place from the others, yet you found your thumb nearing the glass towards the notif, accompanied with your growing blush and curiousity.

You were then met with the Hoyoverse screen once again, assessing the situation you were in as you stare into the blackness of the screen.

Was I... Imagining things? Surely not.

Fuck — I'll just... sleep all day tomorro—

...?

You were met with a slightly glitchy screen of the normal sequence of Jing Yuan's back, but he was... already in his phone. The sprite of his pixels, typing away, seeing the red exclamation mark on top of the speech bubble under the map, earning him a slight breathy inhale from you.

You click the link, losing your shit at the messages that fell before your eyes.

“Ha?”

“What the fuck? I-”

I've lost it.

Oh.

I haven't lost it?

You find yourself staring in silence, re-reading repeatedly the words that only instilled a slight fear yet wonder that was visible on your reddening face.

“But I-... How?” You spoke gently, softly. Something the General wished to hear again, and on cue, his sprite in the game chuckled, as if he was truly listening to you.

'I am only fiction to you' it rings through your head, aching your heart slightly.

You were about to speak, but another message popped up, leaving your body with disappointment and longing, gripping your phone as your eyes gloss over the phenomenon.

“W- Wait! Ji-... Jing Yu...”

You gulp down a lump, bringing your phone closer to your face, your eyes glistening, your whole senses overwhelmed with intensifying longing, warmth — yet accompanied with a growing heartache from the fleeting interaction and him excusing himself abruptly in this otherworldly situation.

...Wait.

Everythi—?

“General...” You muttered out softly, your reddening face from the embarrassing memories that flooded you, his words greatly reminding you of the times where you acted with full on eccentricity, degenerative behavior, lustful tendencies and so on. It made you wonder if other characters such as Blade, Welt — or perhaps even the Aeons heard and witnessed you all this time. It made you shiver with embaunable feelings of humiliation and continuous embarassment, making you unable to think clearly, and the way you threw away your phone onto the couch lightly to cover your heated face? Still being witnessed by the General, and a few other silent spectators of course.

Jing Yuan couldn't believe this situation as well.

This was somehow the work of Silverwolf, a wanted enemy of the Xianzhou, Destiny's Slave, but he felt the most warmth and joy since being summoned by you — no, especially this unforseen interaction with the mortal whose been taking care of everything in the universe within your phone, for taking great care of the Xianzhou especially.

... An endearing mortal at that.

The General and the rest of the game couldn't see as you apparently let go of your device, but your wails and silent squeals were still audible, as the General comes to a conclusion that you perhaps needed to calm down, but in reality, he quite enjoyed this spectacle of yours, even by only listening — in which he was once again very greatful for his grand, and sensitive sense of hearing as he listens to you.

After another, final deep breath, your hand reaches to your phone again, before beginning to press your fingers onto your screen in a frantic haze, but the joystick button was... unresponsive, as well as the others—except for the message button in this moment.

BZZT

Another messaged popped up, quickening your heartrate immediately.

“WH—” Your heart only fluttered and dropped at the same time.

He can do that?

It's... It's probably a bluff.

...

He's the Arbiter General, who am I kidding.

With a warm sigh of content, you find yourself smiling at your phone, hugging it onto your chest with the game still open unknowingly.

“...I love you all. You are all my calm and peace.”

You said quietly, sniffling and accompanied with sounds of your light breathing, drifting off your exhaustions away to fulfill your body's needs.

Finally in your slumber, your phone switches off within a few minutes, thus the floating screen on their end disappears, earning a content sigh from the General as he makes his way towards his office in the Exalting Sanctum, each step felt heavy without your sight now that you were aware he can — or his world can access yours in this small, yet impactful way, but his form grows with confidence, determination setting in his soul as his sights land upon the Cloud Knight whom guarded the way to his office.

Jing Yuan sought out to Welt Yang and Silverwolf immediately in secret after his satisfying interactions with you, informing them of what happened in full detail (though he left out the parts where you cosplayed a squealing tomato, sparing you from further humiliation) and the whole ordeal as it was successful. His subtle praises earned him multiple cheeky and cocky remarks from the criminal hacker, along with a few teasing about him being smitten by you (and to Welt as well), but what can he really do to retaliate back? She was a main source of intelligence and control who provided a connection to you in the first place.

Inevitable, but he was willing to cooperate either way, all for this world, for the Xianzhou — for you.

The three continue to dive into their conversations, planning on how he or others who are interested, can continue to interact with you further more without raising suspicion from their creators upon breaking a few bits of code and data. It was no doubt in mind risky, that was apparent, but so was their endearment and affection towards their human, their player.

In all honesty, Welt and Silverwolf also found themselves wanting to interact with you as well from Jing Yuan's stories of the first ever interaction you had to their world, but of course, if they did it consecutively, it would most definitely be noticable if a few more characters began to act on their own accord, threatening the programmed codes as numbers shift and modify suspiciously.

Though unfortunately, only resorting to using the message system for now, but Silverwolf was confident with her abilities, making use of the way she was made, using the descriptions laid for her against her own creators.

After all, Hoyoverse made her annoyingly cunning, intelligent and skilled. A mistake on their part, or rather, an intended choice of character building for players like us to create, indulge and enjoy? We'll never know.

Unless Hoyoverse put out a stream that specifies the matter, until then Silverwolf remains focused and unyielding to her program, heeding Jing Yuan's call if need be and taking Welt Yang's advices about his own knowledge when it came to multiverses and other worlds from his prior experiences. All this planning, the risk, the longing for more interactions with you — it was a motivation to the three, as well as for the others that greatly wished to converse with you.

An aloof and lazy, the general he may be, but he's a living legacy of dreams and determination for a reason.

A wielder of a great glaive with materials dropped from the remants of the Reignbow Arbiter's Lux Arrow — and tonight, as you slept peacefully, this felt like a moment of miracle once again, the fleeting moment of grace that made their world reach a state of serenity, all from the possibility of having to finally, finally interact with you.

reblogs help ppl discover me thank you <3

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ashxketchum · 1 year ago

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MY DEPRESSION HAS BEEN CURED MY SKIN IS CLEAR MY CROPS ARE FLOURISHING ALL BECAUSE OF THIS ONE IMAGE THIS IS THE YEAR OF ADVENTURE PANDERING LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Let's break this down one by one ~

This is such a good Sora fit I don't even know how to explain how very much OG Sora this is, the pink tones of the overall sporty outfit perfectly capture all levels of her personality. To top it off she's sharing flower themed cream sandwiches with Piyomon AAAHHH the subtle reference okay merch team you can take a w. Not to mention Sora is perfectly matching with Taichi and the fruit in her sandwich is orange stoooopppp itttt!!!!!

TAICHI OMG who is dressing this boy because that's the most he's ever jocked as a 11 year old. The sweatshirt, cargo pants, matching wristband and the sense to put his goggles down, he is winning the sporty casual fashion show for sure. And of course him and Agumon are enjoying some chicken popcorn, love how they weren't even subtle with the packaging art we all know Japan's favourite fried chicken brand anyway 🤣

Yamato. YAMATO. Y A M A T O. You're 11 can you tone down the cool guy heartthrob behaviour for a minute because I am losing my mind THE DOGTAG CHAIN IM GONNA SCREEAAAMMM ACTUALLY I AM SCREAAAMING AAAAHHHHHHH. He looks so good, there is absolutely no wrong element in his entire outfit, everything is perfectly paired up, a fashionista is among us. The little thumbs up over the onigiri that Gabumon is offering him?? Is he telling Gabumon that he's okay with having one and Gabumon can have the rest because that's the sweet, protective, kind, caring baby he is at heart???🥹🥹🥹The blue and green gradient in the background tho?? Mimato math is mathing bestiesss 🤣

Takeru is just a lil guy, but such a perfect lil guy!!! I like how his outfit has the similar green shade as his anime outfit but they still chose to gave him a new beanie instead which doesn't really match the colour tone of the rest of the fit but it's Takeru so we know that he can pull any hat off and that's what he does!!! Him and Patamon sharing burgers, okay mood, but why is he looking so surprised? I need to know what happened, did he spill some sauce on his overalls? Was the burger too hot to bite? WHAT HAPPENED TAKERU????? 😢

Jou, I see you paired up the plaid pants with a nice long, muted, warm toned jacket BUT I SEE THAT PURPLE SHIRT POKING IN FROM INSIDE and excuse me sir but why that purple with the plaid 😭 I need to see a version where Jou isn't wearing the jacket so I can make an informed rating on this outfit but may I add that in the full merch pic he has paired this look with green and white sneakers...I cannot defend you I am sorry Jou, please try brown loafers next time 😭 But outfit aside, Jou eating a taiyaki with Gomamon is lowkey funny I just know that Gomamon cracked a Marching Fishes joke at least once.

Koushiro...I will not go into detail but I will say it's cute that you have a sweater with a little K on it, it's also very cute that there is a splash of orange in your outfit, who's attention are you vying for it isn't subtle at all bby boy and I am grateful you matched your shoes to your sweater even if the socks are definitely a choice and that blue with orange is also definitely another choice. Good to see your are making choices. I like that him and Tentomon are sharing dango, it's always nice to see Koushiro's fondness towards Japanese traditional snacks hinted at in some way.

MIMI. QUEEN. SLAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!! YOU NEVER EVER MISS MY SWEET BEAUTIFUL BABY GIRL. The pastel tones matched with the grey stockings for contrast, that beret and the fuzzy hem boots, you just know she shops at Takashimaya and Isetan and anything below it will just not do 👏🏻 Plus Sora and Mimi are wearing the same tones, which probably means that they pre-planned the outfits together, cuties!!! Also Crepe is such a Mimi™️ choice of dessert but I always get teary eyes when I see Palmon mimic Mimi's gestures, there is just so much love and admiration between them for each other, pure childish wonder 💚 And the crepe even has a cutesy character face on it, which kinda looks like Monzaemon, though I can't be sure but if it is then another win for a subtle reference. Not to mention both Yamato and Mimi look like they've dressed in a more cool and elegant style than the rest like they might be on their way to a date THE MIMAT MATH IS MATHING YALLL!!!

Hikari looks super cute, I think there isn't much official art of her in casual clothing for OG stuff so it's nice to see her in a more cutesy fit suited to her age. The hairband matching the cardigan is such a nice touch!! I can't recall any other casual outfit for OG design Hikari except the War Game and Memorial Party dress, so I think this would be the first time we see Hikari with a hairband and it just looks adorable. Of course she is sharing an ice cream with Tailmon, it's kinda their brand now but like Takeru she's making a surprised expression, perhaps she wasn't expecting Tailmon to offer her a bite of her ice cream?

To conclude, this is probably the best OG artwork we've gotten since Idk maybe the Rainy Day stationery series. This will be sold in advance at the Kamio Store booth at Anime Japan 2024. No other details were mentioned, but the event booth sale feels like a pre-sale before the goods become available more widely at other outlets, hopefully, at some stores that international fans have access too as well.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

Ayushi out.

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elilelibeli · 3 months ago

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slight nsfw: Reg just has some filthy realizations about James

Sirius nagged and nagged “Regulus you have to hang out with my friends” and “Reggie come out with us” and “go with us to the party” and the answer was always an eye roll and a firm no, until Sirius put his foot down (he literally physically thumped his foot like a toddler) and forced Regulus to go with him to the lake.

This is how Regulus found himself on a big rock, under the sun surrounded by trees on a warm Saturday afternoon. It started with fishing, he obviously did not participate (he would rather die than touch those sluggy bait warms thank you very much) but Sirius and his usually very, very loud friends kept quiet to not scare the fish away so at least that was a nice start of the day.

Fishing lasted all morning until it was unbearable to stay under the sun without evaporating, so James declared that section of the day done and quickly jumped into the lake. Soon enough boys all joined James in the water and the quiet portion of the day was unfortunately done. There was lots of splashing, lots of yelling, jumping and water wrestling after that.

Regulus continued to bask under the sun, switching from listening to music, reading or sketching in his notebook. He only went under water when boys went to try jumping from the further away cliff. The nap after cooling down at the lake was one of the more incredible ones Regulus had taken, so he wasn’t too happy with being woken up.

The boys had returned and brought all the buzzing noise with them, laughing while rustling through the picnic baskets and bags.

When Regulus opened his eyes he saw James with a plate full of fruit between his legs. James was laughing at Peter and Sirius trying to find something in the bag, until he grabbed a peach and took a bite.

Now Regulus had seen art, he had visited world’s best museums, he had been to galleries, exhibitions. He had seen ballets, operas, performances. He had seen them all but what he was seeing now was beyond any artistic ability to express.

Biting of a fruit shouldn’t have been as beautiful, it was something so ordinary something everyone did, however the way James’s fingers curved around that peach or how his lips plumped around the fruit was so far from the ordinary it would be a disrespect to hang it even in the Louvre.

Regulus had also seen porn, he had read it too. Obscene descriptions, filthy scenes. He thought he had encountered the most lustfully attractive moments before, but the way the sweet, sticky drop of the perfectly ripe peach rolled down from James’s lips to his jaw was the most profane and knee buckling thing he had ever seen.

His eyes stuck on that drop, transfixed as he watched it slowly, oh so slowly travel down on James’s neck, slide from his collarbone to his nipple. Oh what wouldn’t Regulus give if he could just follow that drop with his tongue. Now, that was the path he would happily follow everyday. The drop was almost mocking him now, touching James everywhere Regulus realized he wanted to touch, his toned, beautifully, beautifully sun kissed stomach. And when the drop neared the line of James’s hips, at that divine curve Regulus’s stares became so intense James’s probably felt them burn holes through him and looked at Regulus.

“Hey Reggie want some?” He asked waving a peach with a big chunk bitten out of it and smiling that big shiny smile of his.

And Regulus did, oh how he wanted not just some but everything. The droplet of peach now forgotten but forever highlighting the desires of poor, breathtaken Regulus.

#i am craving some peaches so here we go?#that peach ended Reg’s life #Reg literally having a full blown gay crisis #and James is just innocently chomping on his fruit #Reggie did get to follow the path of that drop very soon #next lake day they fucked behind that tall clif btw and it was fucking magical #james potter #jegulus #regulus black #james x regulus #mauraders #starchaser

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quite-right-too · 1 year ago

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Piece of Art

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor sees your newest tattoo.

One year.

You had been travelling for an entire year.

Granted, time was subjective when you are in a literal time machine, but the point still stood. For your timeline, it had been three hundred and sixty-five days of adventures.

It seemed like the Doctor also knew. He was up before you — which was normal considering his “superior Time Lord biology” allowed him to have “a considerably altered circadian rhythm” and he didn’t need much sleep.

He was already up and running around the console by the time you were up, hair tousled like he had been running his hands through it. You admired him from the doorway as he checked the screens, putting on his glasses and analysing the data that was written in that beautiful circular language.

“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked with a smirk, arms crossed and leaning against the coral entrance to the console room. The Doctor jumped for a second as he was brought out of his focused state.

He gave you his signature Doctor grin and began to flip various switches. “Well,” he drawled, “I was thinking we could go to Dracea VII. They have a wonderful festival that comes around every ten years. The food is amazing.” Nimble fingers typed into his keyboard as he watched the Gallifreyan symbols change. “Just imagine it. The sky's the perfect shade of lavender while the various rivers that flow through the city are a shimmering gold. The grass is soft, almost like silk, and is a deep blue. The entire planet is gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the matching smile that spread across your face. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Alright!” he exclaimed, pulling a lever down hard as the TARDIS began to groan and lurch through the vortex. “Allons-y!”

A final thud upon landing threw your balance off. As you were sent stumbling, the Doctor reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling him into you as you both fell to the floor. He caught you, just as he always did. Your shared laughs filled the console room as you savoured the moment.

“Come on, up you go,” he grunted as he helped you to your feet. “Off on another adventure, us!” He grinned as he grabbed his overcoat and pulled it over his shoulders, adjusting the collar as he put it on. Once satisfied with how the garment sat, the Doctor held out his hand. His fingers wiggled in invitation. Chestnut eyes sparkled with the excitement of being able to spend time with you.

You loved it.

Fingers now laced, the door to the TARDIS was thrown open. Instead of the beautiful grass and rivers the Doctor had described, you were greeted with what appeared to be a sewer system. A very dirty sewer system.

As the two of you stepped out of the doors, the Doctor looked around with a grimace on his face. “What the-” He was quickly cut off with a low rumble.

A rumble that came from directly above you.

Although you both moved away from the now-noticed pipe above your heads, it was too late. The putrid smell of hot garbage assaulted you as you felt yourself get splashed with the brown mysterious liquid.

“Fucking dammit!” you yelled, lurching away.

The Doctor grabbed your hand, pulling you back into the TARDIS. Your shirt seemed to have gotten the worst of it. Not wanting to continue the contact of the sewage against your skin, you pulled your shirt off and discarded it on the floor of the console room.

“Alright, that was not where I intended to land. Sorry about that.” As the Doctor looked up at you, he froze. Standing before him was your shirtless form, bearing a semi-new tattoo.

The vibrant blue phone box that took up the space on the right side of your torso was beautifully surrounded with a galaxy. In the background, the Earth was able to be made out.

His feet moved of their own accord. Before either of you knew it, he was standing directly in front of you, staring down at your ribs. “When did you get this done?” the Doctor murmured quietly, his hand coming up to hover above the piece.

You moved your hand up to his, pressing his fingers against your skin. “You can touch, Doctor.” You smiled at how enraptured he was. “I got it the last time we were in America. Probably around three months ago? Did you know that Los Angeles has some pretty amazing tattoo artists?”

“This is brilliant.” The Doctor was in complete and utter awe. “Why haven’t you shown me this before?” He traced circular patterns over the tattoo with the pads of his fingers.

“I don’t know, just…” You trailed off, mind melting at the feel of the skin-to-skin contact. “Wanted to wait for the right time.”

“Well, I love it.” The Doctor wasn’t lying. His eyes were staring into your soul. He loved it.

“Good,” you breathed. He was so close to you — it made it so hard to think.

I love you.

The words caught in your throat.

#my fic #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor #doctor who #david tennant

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janaem · 8 months ago

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Let Me Rule You

Jareth x f.reader

This is chapter 1 (Entranced) | Chapter 2 (Wish)

Synopsis: She never imagined that she would once again be drawn into the enchanting world of fictional characters, a place she had not ventured into for many years. However, on a warm summer Saturday night, everything changed as she found herself captivated by the enigmatic goblin king, Jareth, while watching the mesmerizing film "Labyrinth." Word count: 5.4k (20 pages)

Warnings for this chapter: swearing and arguments

Key:Y/n= your name | L/n= last name | M/n= mom name |d/n= dog name

For visual purposes, here is the house you are living in.

Author note: It's sure been a while since I wrote something as long as this. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter as much as I did! I don't intend for this to be a slow burn, but I'm sure not rushing to the climax either. Things will definitely start to progress in the chapters to come at a reasonable pace since I'm aiming for this to be only a few chapters. I will also be publishing this on ao3 and wattpad:)

The dusk was calm, and the only movements were the swaying of the trees in the warm midsummer breeze. The dark green leaves of the trees fell sporadically on the fresh pavement street of Evansville. It is a typical upper-middle-class suburb located on the outskirts of the great city, beyond its beautiful lake. During the summer, Evansville is usually bustling with life. Kids can be seen racing on their scooters while their parents watch from the front lawn of their craftsman and single-family-style homes. Teenagers speed down Sherhigh Avenue by the Lakefront with their windows rolled down, blasting music and singing the lyrics. The beaches are always full from morning till nearly midnight.

Nestled close to the tranquil lakefront was Nordstin Street, which exuded an air of a close community feel. From afternoon till night, the neighborhood was painted with playful children and their parents' laughter on their lawns, the jingle of ice cream trucks, and frequent splashes from small backyard pools.

But once dusk faded away, it was different. The winds picked up abruptly around four thirty and leaves started dancing in a choreographed frenzy while flower petals broke free from their delicate confines. The windows of these sturdy homes rattled, adding a discordant note to the chaos. The tides of the lake were more than violent, threatening to engulf anything in their path. The crashing waves against the cluster of boulders are reminiscent of clashing symbols.

In the heart of Nordstin, a grand single-family home exudes warmth and elegance. The gray fiber cement exterior, adorned with white accents, perfectly complements the intricately decorated gray brick roof. The beautiful porch is a work of art, supported by sturdy white stone pillars, making it both practical and stunning.

In the vast living room downstairs, an eighteen-year-old, Y/n, lounged on the cream sectional sofa, surrounded by plush beige pillows of varying textures. With one pillow snug against her torso, she tuned into the news forecast, her gaze fixed on the screen as she observed the latest updates.

The male news reporter's voice filled the room, his words a solemn warning. "The winds are blowing at 26 miles per hour," he announced, his tone carrying a sense of urgency. "It's best to stay home if you don't need to be outside, especially away from water."

Suddenly, a harsh voice from the kitchen shatters the tranquility, disrupting Y/n's peace of mind.

Y/n’s mother, m/n, walked urgently from the kitchen and halted at the entrance of the living room, wearing an unpleasant expression. She holds a meticulously cleaned empty Tupperware container in her left hand.

“Y/n, did you eat the last of the lasagna?” She asked, shaking the container so it was brought to Y/n’s attention.

Y/n looked over at her displeased mother and replied dryly, "Yeah."

Her mother gives her a repulsed look, “Why? What makes you think it’s okay to eat up everything in this house and not leave anything left for anyone?”

Y/n gave her a look of offense, sitting up from her leisure posture, her voice remained level, “Those were the only leftovers I ate. And you told me that I could help myself to whatever I wanted today.”

“That doesn’t mean you eat a whole thing of lasagna, Y/n. You can’t always think about yourself!”

“It wasn’t even half of a container mom, relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax. I know what was in there.”

“Can you please stop yelling?”

“I’m not yelling! This is how I talk.”

Already feeling fatigued from the ongoing conversation, Y/n released a small, exhausted sigh, grabbed the remote, and switched from the news channel in search of something else to ease her mind.

However, the fuming woman continued, “You could’ve called me asking if you could save me some because that is a lot for one person.”

“It wasn’t.” Y/n had completely given up.

“Okay, Y/n,” m/n scoffed, walking back into the kitchen, “This is ridiculous, you think about nobody else but yourself. Your dad and I are already paying for your college, and the least you can do is not act selfish all the time!”

Y/n turned up the volume of the television, finally finding a show that piqued her interest. Unfortunately, she could still hear the immature mutters of her mother’s complaints.

“It’s all about Y/n, Y/n, Y/n…never thinking about anyone else…that’s sad…this is ridiculous!...eat something healthy…never seen anything like it…eighteen years old…”

“So fucking extra,” Y/n huffed, turning down the volume of the television. She throws the pillow from where it landed with the other pile of pillows on the couch and walks up to her room, considering watching a movie there instead. Maybe she’ll Facetime her friend to vent about how unbearable her mom was acting again.

It wasn't uncommon for Y/n and her mother to engage in disputes, which seemed to arise almost daily, creating an atmosphere of constant tension. By now, Y/n was used to it, maintaining a more composed demeanor. However, there are times when she'll mirror or even exceed her mother's outbursts. Their relationship wasn't entirely negative, but it was far from fulfilling. As for her father, Y/n's connection with him was characterized by neutrality with a more manageable dynamic. He was currently on a trip with her uncle and a few friends at Turks & Caicos and won’t be back for another five days.

Y/n walked into her room, paying no attention to the insistent buzzing of her phone on her eider white desk. She sank into her plush queen-sized bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows and stuffed animals, and disappeared under the soft covers, letting out a long sigh of satisfaction.

She didn't want to get too hot under the covers in her oversized hoodie, so she shifted to a more upright position, reached under a nearby pillow, retrieved the remote, and switched on the television. The clock on the top right-hand corner of the starting page displayed 9:45 pm. She then clicked on one of the streaming apps and started browsing through the movies, uncertain of her current mood.

Y/n, with a deep appreciation for classic films, gravitated towards the 80s-90s subcategory. The screen was filled with a vibrant array of movie covers competing for her attention. As she scrolled through the seemingly endless list of movies, Y/n's eyes eagerly scanned the colorful and nostalgic offerings.

She scrolled through rows and rows of movies of all kinds, eventually getting bored and heading over to the sidebar for a better selection. There, subcategories of the 80s and 90s movies appeared: Action, Romance, Documentary, thriller…

Fantasy.

It has been a while since Y/n watched any fantasy-related films, especially older ones with effects that she found to be somewhat uncoordinated and eerie. However, curiosity got the best of her, so she clicked on it, and a series of other subcategories dropped down: Animation, Fairy Tale, Steampunk, Vampires...

Cult films.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the name, “Cult?” she whispered as if she was sounding it out for the first time.

As she clicked on the remote, a rush of warmth and excitement filled her chest. Her eyes eagerly scanned the screen, searching for a familiar movie. Despite having watched The Neverending Story countless times, she scrolled past it along with other movies like The Dark Crystal, Short Circuit, Big Trouble in Little China, and The Goonies.

Yet, an inexplicable urge drove her to keep searching. After a few more minutes, she suddenly paused, as if an unseen force prevented her thumb from clicking the arrow button, and her gaze settled on a movie she had never come across before.

Jim Henson’s Labyrinth.

Y/n felt an overwhelming and unexplainable sensation coursing through her body as she gazed at the movie cover and its title. It seemed to evoke a powerful wave of nostalgia, captivating her as she fixed her eyes on the glowing screen.

She clicked on the movie, reading its summary.

“Sixteen-year-old Sarah is given thirteen hours to solve a labyrinth and rescue her baby brother Toby when her wish for him to be taken away is granted by the Goblin King Jareth.”

“Poor girl,” Y/n commented as she pressed play, where the credits roll while a white barn owl flies around. Her dog, D/n, shoved the door open with their nose and climbed into bed with her, lying at her legs.

Y/n was captivated by the film's cinematic elements and grainy aesthetic. In particular, she found the character Sarah Williams, to be incredibly gorgeous. Despite her beauty and gentle appearance, Y/n observed that Sarah's behavior didn't align, from her furious stomping into the house to her tendency to catastrophize minor inconveniences.

Y/n grimaced at the first appearance of the goblins, all jumbled up as they awoke from their slumber. Their raspy and grating voices matched their grotesque appearances. When they emerged in the bedroom after Sarah's brother went missing, they appeared in various parts of the room--- under the bedsheets, inside closets, behind the door. Sarah looked around frantically, unable to catch a break. Then, suddenly, the same white barn owl from the movie's beginning barges into the room through the balcony doors and lunges at Sarah. Startled, Sarah shields her eyes, and then a human shadow emerges at Sarah's feet.

The once barn owl had been mystically transformed into a human being. Y/n took in his lithe stature, which stood in a way that excluded flamboyance and regal confidence. His long, dark, and dramatic coat, adorned with intricate designs and embellishments, billowed in the wind as he made his captivating presence known on screen.

"You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King."

The Goblin King tilts his head, offering Sarah a proud smirk. Y/n couldn't help but notice his untamed, tousled blond locks that framed his face, enhancing his unconventional and otherworldly allure.

"Sarah…go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby."

His voice flowed like honey, smooth and melodious. Y/n had heard that voice before, possessed by others, yet the Goblin King made it uniquely captivating with its rich, velvety timbre.

"I've brought you a gift."

"It's a crystal, nothing more."

The Goblin King outstretched his gloved hand, and a translucent ball appeared out of thin air. Y/n's eyebrows raised in awe as he effortlessly juggled it about his hands in a way she'd never seen before. It rolled from one hand to another, from his fingertips to the palm of his hand.

"But if you turn it this way and look into it, it'll show you your dreams."

As the film played, Y/n was entirely captivated by the intricate and fantastical journey unfolding before her. She couldn't help but admire Sarah's courageous interactions with the strange and repulsive creatures, except the adorable worm at the beginning. Fairies, goblins, and monsters filled the screen, leaving Y/n in awe of the film's grungy artistry.

She started taking a liking to Hoggle, although he is a coward, he truly cared for Sarah and her wellbeing, which is the type of friend that anyone could need in such desperate times. However, above all the characters Y/n found remarkable, the enigmatic Goblin King, Jareth, captured her attention every time he appeared.

The ballroom scene, in particular, mesmerized Y/n, watching as Jareth's intense yet affectionate gaze lingered on Sarah in a way that set Y/n's nerves ablaze, leaving her breathless. Amidst the dancing figures and smooth song, Y/n couldn't help but imagine herself in Sarah's place, enveloped in the lingering sensation of Jareth's possessive regard.

As she watched, a soft sigh escaped her parted lips, tinged with wistfulness. She pondered what it would be like to be looked upon with such desire in a crowded room, to be longed by someone you secretly desired, as you sought them out in the hopes of meeting their eyes again. She briefly fantasized about being in Sarah's place, feeling the electricity of Jareth's presence, drawing her closer every second.

Y/n's growing desires and anticipation danced amongst the sea of masked faces and whispered secrets. What would it feel like to be carefully handled the way Jareth did Sarah at that moment as she nearly lost herself in his eyes? She wondered this throughout the rest of the film, as the last scene with Jareth played on screen.

“Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I will be your slave.”

A sickening sweet feeling aroused in the very heart of Y/n’s chest, causing her breath to abruptly become shallow as if it were her first time trying to breathe. Eyebrows furrowed and lips parted, she took in the lithe being presented on screen in front of her. Everything in her room surrounding her began to fall and fade away—all she could see was him.

“Yes,” she subconsciously whispered, “say yes.”

“You have no power over me.” Sarah’s voice rang triumphantly, as the goblin king gave in, taking the form in his owl self once again.

As the film came to a close and the end credits started rolling, Y/n sank further into her pillows and covers.

“I feel like there should’ve been more to the film,” she said to herself, “something’s missing. I’m not satisfied.”

D/n stirred in their sleep, not paying mind to a work y/n just said. The girl sighed, seizing the remote once more to watch something different.

That was until the door flew open and her moments of peace were shattered once again by the sharpness of m/n’s tone.

“Why didn’t you help me with dinner,” she questioned, “let alone, make dinner?”

“It’s too late for dinner,” Y/n replied, “plus I’m not hungry.”

“So, you disregard everyone else in the house after you ate two servings of lasagna?”

“I guess so.” Y/n deadpanned, refusing to fuel the fire with the rebuttal about the lasagna being enough for one person.

“Unbelievable,” M/n huffed, putting her hands on her hips and looking around the room, “your room’s a mess.”

“Okay.” Y/n replied dismissively.

“No, I’m being serious, Y/n. You’re going to have a roommate in college and I sure hope you two get along through all this mess.” Her mother turned on the lights abruptly, waking up d/n and irritating Y/n.

“Mom, what the heck,” Y/n fumed, getting out of her bed, and rushing to the wall to turn off the lights, the room went dark once again, “It’s eleven o’clock!”

“I expect you to get up tomorrow and clean this room,” m/n declared, walking to the food frame, “I’m going to bed, and I want you to think about ways you can use your time more productively.”

Before y/n could fire back, M/n was already gone, shutting the lights of her room off.

The eighteen-year-old girl couldn't catch a break even before bedtime. M/n, while not overly strict, had this unspoken rule that Y/n should just think like her. It led to endless clashes between them, leaving Y/n feeling weighed down.

Talking to friends helped a bit, but the constant disagreements with M/n still felt like a heavy burden on Y/n's chest. Trying to find common ground with someone who seemed to see the world differently was tough, and Y/n knew there was little to do about it.

"It'll all be over in a few months," Y/n told herself while she returned to her bed, submerging into the covers once more, turning off the television, and falling into a deep sleep, searching for peace of mind.

It was well into the morning when Y/n woke up to the sound of a mourning dove, the clock just nearing 10:45 am. She knew her mother was already awake, perhaps reading a book and having breakfast in her room. She planned to say good morning to her later.

D/n, who was once at the foot of her bed, was now propped up, wagging their tail in excitement to see Y/n, who smiled as she melted into the dog’s soft and loving gaze as she ruffled their fur.

Y/n decided that this morning she would clean up her room and place all the unnecessary things in a giveaway bag. She immediately went downstairs, grabbed a garbage bag and a glass of water, and rushed back upstairs to get to work in her considerably well-kept room.

She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to; she was doing this so she wouldn’t be greeted by a nagging mother.

D/n remained on the bed, peering over at Y/n curiously as she continued. Y/n opened the cabinet of her desk and began rummaging through items she’d touched in recent months, setting aside everything except for one particular item. Tucked away at the back of the stacks of read novels and old workbooks rested a pristine bin.

She tossed the workbooks aside, intending to dispose of them, and placed the novels on top of her desk next to her computer, calendar, and another smaller stack of books. She then reached for the bin she hadn’t seen in over a few years. It was a simple clear plastic bin with a turquoise lid.

As she eagerly lifted the lid, a rush of nostalgia engulfed her senses. Beneath the lid lay a jumble of crumpled lined papers adorned with intricate drawings, stacked on top of older notebooks, comics, and mangas, which in turn rested upon other well-loved books from her middle school days. It was a veritable treasure trove of memories that Y/n found impossible to resist. Without hesitation, she reached for the first item on top - a character sheet.

Growing up, Y/n's love for storytelling and creativity knew no bounds. She had especially displayed a remarkable talent for crafting complex characters and their elaborate backstories. While progressing in her budding artistic skills, her true passion lay in building and immersing herself in fantastical worlds. She was engrossed in the worlds of anime, mangas, and fiction which surpassed the typical interests of children her age. Her mind was a treasure trove of knowledge, brimming with insights into various fandoms, literary works, and both contemporary and classic fantasy films.

“No way!” she chuckled, flipping through a notebook full of her drawings of characters she’d seen in anime along with anime characters she'd made up. Each page was adorned with meticulous side notes containing non-canon theories, potential romantic head-canons, and intricately woven backstories that she had crafted from her boundless imagination.

As Y/n spent the next twenty minutes soaring down memory lane, she felt a sinking in her chest, leaving her feeling empty and yearning for that same sense of creativity to ignite within her once again.

She continued sifting through the pile of memories until she reached the bottom, where she found a black velvet notebook with plain white pages. Upon picking it up, she discovered that it was empty. Feeling a bit disappointed, she placed all the objects back into the bin, carefully arranging them in the small compartment.

As she did so, she recalled the various stories she had created in the past - witches, vampires, fairies, and superheroes. She especially missed the sense of accomplishment she felt upon completing each small project, as well as the innocent crushes developed on fictional characters from specific scenes and fan fiction.

Y/n missed how she didn't have a care in the world between what was real and what was fake.

She got up and ascended the stairs once more with the garbage bin at hand and placed it at the bottom of the back door. She figured that once her father came back he’d drive it over to the Salvation Army warehouse. She walked into the kitchen welcomed by the blaring sound of the blender her mom was using to make a smoothie.

M/n stopped the blender and poured some of the smoothie into a glass cup, handing it to Y/n with a “Good morning sweetie.”

“Good morning, Mom,” Y/n replied, taking a small sip of the berry enriched smoothie, “how did you sleep?”

“Oh, I slept fine,” M/n replied, unplugging the blender and setting it aside on the kitchen’s white valley granite countertop, “the bed feels empty without your dad in it.”

“I’m sure.” Y/n agreed leaning against the counter and taking another sip.

“Did you sleep alright?” M/n asked.

Y/n nodded.

“Good,” M/n noted, about to sip her smoothie once more; she then stopped, “Where’s D/n?”

“Upstairs,” Y/n replied.

“You should always take your dog out for a walk in the morning.” M/n inputted, setting her smoothie down.

“I know, but she was asleep and I was cleaning my room and disposing of things I didn’t need.”

“So, you were up this entire time and didn’t bother to walk your dog or make us any breakfast?”

Y/n studied her mother’s furrowed expression, not sure of what to say.

“Your room would have waited, Y/n. You need to start—”

“Mom, I don’t wanna hear it, it’s too early.” Y/n interrupted, feeling her boiling blood course through her veins.

M/n disregarded her daughter's advances, “It’s nearly noon, Y/n and we’ve barely eaten. I need you to start thinking and be able to multitask and take the initiative. What you’re doing right now won’t get you far in your career.”

Y/n had heard M/n repeat this thousands of times, using as many things to say back in previous times, Y/n was now worn out.

“Whatever.” She uttered making her way to the kitchen’s exit.

“Excuse me?” M/n’s tone was sharper now.

“Nothing, Mom.”

“Y/n, I tell you these things so you can become more mature. The behavior has gotten too far. You’re eighteen years old and it’s ridiculous the way you act at such a grown age. I constantly have to repeat myself—”

“Then don’t,” Y/n argued.

“Then give me a reason not to,” M/n fired back, “I’ve never seen your age treat her mother the way you do and act selfishly and dismissively.”

Y/n sighed, “This is so unnecessary. All of this over breakfast.”

“You belittle everything, Y/n. Grow up.”

“You can relax now.”

“Grow up.”

“Telling me to grow up won’t do anything.”

“What I’m saying, sweetie is that you–”

“Okay, mom. I get it. I’ll do better.” Y/n surrendered, not wanting to ignite the flame any further. She was already getting a sickening feeling in her stomach.

She exited the kitchen and rushed up the stairs and back into her room, shutting the door behind her. She set her smoothie down on her desk and paced her room feeling a lump forming in her throat.

“It’s like she always has to start a problem no matter what I do!” She hiccuped feeling her eyes sting with tears.

“Can’t she just let me live for once, God, for fucking once!”

Tears streamed down her face, hanging at her chin, she looked outside at the clear blue sky with the sun well overhead.

“Y/n! Walk your dog!” Her mother yelled from downstairs.

“Okay!” Y/n’s seething voice cracked, “shut up.” she muttered sniffling.

“Now!”

“Give me a minute!”

More tears started spilling down Y/n’s face. She sobbed and hiccuped quietly, continuing to look out her window, which was only a few feet away. Her heart was aching, and her throat was twisted in a knot of sorrow; her chest heaved with exhaustion. She started to cry harder after she attempted to swallow her tears; she knew M/n was going to notice her tear-stricken face.

Y/n grabbed her phone and trudged over to her bed and plopped down on her back, sighing in defeat. She figured that before she walked D/n she would at least distract herself from the pang of sorrow that knocked at her chest.

She opened her web browser and typed in “labyrinth 1986,” and thousands of search results appeared, including links to websites, articles, videos, and even books and comics.

The girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she clicked on the first image that showed the same book with a striking red cover that Sarah had been carrying at the park.

“No way, there’s an official novelization of the labyrinth,” she gasped as she further searched. To her surprise, there were comics and mangas as well.

The pain Y/n was feeling suddenly subsided, replaced by a sense of wonder and excitement as she eagerly read through the summaries and reviews for each comic, book, and archived piece available.

“Finally back in print and for the first time in hardcover is the novelization of LABYRINTH written by A.C.H. Smith and personally overseen by Jim Henson. This is the first in a series of novels from the Jim Henson Archives.”

“Labyrinth: Coronation is a 12-issue comic book series written by Simon Spurrier and illustrated by Daniel Bayliss, published by Archaia from 2018 to 2019. It is a prequel to the 1986 film Labyrinth that takes place in 18th-century Venice and tells the story of how Jareth became the Goblin King.”

“You’re lying” Y/n muttered, enticed by the various series of books presented before her, she clicked on the official novelization first, seeing that it was available in her local bookstore for $30, seeing that there was only one in stock, she made a reservation to pick it up today on her walk with D/n.

“I have to have it.” She said putting in her online payment, which had been successfully authorized.

Thank you for your purchase! The book you have requested will be available within 20 minutes. You have two days to pick it up.

“Oh, shit I gotta go.” Y/n gasped frantically getting out of her bed. She rushed to her closet and grabbed a pair of gray sweats and a simple scoop navy blue cami top, throwing on white socks. She grabbed her mini purse with her wallet inside and made her way down the stairs, D/n followed.

“I’m going to the library, D/n is coming with me,” Y/n said as she passed the living room where M/n sat on her computer.

“Okay. Take the car of course.” M/n replied in deep concentration on whatever was on screen.

Y/n unlatched the garage door, the sound of its metal creaking filling the air as she stepped inside. She slipped on her comfortable slides and made her way to her car, with D/n following closely behind her. The afternoon sun poured into the garage as she settled into the driver's seat, and D/n took their place in the passenger seat. Y/n rolled down the windows, feeling the warm summer breeze on her skin as she carefully reversed out of the garage and onto the driveway.

She made her way down Nordstin Street, making a right onto Seems Street, she marveled at the vibrant activity around her, knowing that the lakefront was only a couple of streets away. It was nearly one o’clock, and the streets were alive with the energy of people going about their day.

It didn't take long before Y/n reached the library. Finding a snug parking spot near the entrance.

She turned to D/n, letting all the windows up, leaving the passenger’s side slightly cracked.

“I’ll be right back, the window will be cracked for you,” she said leaning in and giving her sweet dog a peck on the nose.

She quickly exited the car and walked up to the library and opened the dark wooden doors, where she paid no attention to her surroundings as she marched straight to the front desk, which was occupied by a lady cashier. They greeted each other warmly.

“My name is Y/n L/n and I purchased Jim Henson’s Labyrinth today.” She spoke clearly.

As the lady behind the counter heard Y/n's request, she paused, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she searched for the book. With a few swift clicks to confirm the order, she leaned down and carefully retrieved the treasure Y/n had sought. The rich, crimson book with the elegant golden title "Labyrinth" embossed on its cover was presented before the younger girl, its allure captivating her gaze.

“You’re all set Miss L/n, have a good day!” She chirped sweetly.

“You too!” Y/n returned as she made her way to the front door, her heart hammering in her chest in anticipation as she made her way back to the car. Luckily, there was a park just across the street from the library.

Y/n opened the car door and let D/n out, the leash making a jingling sound as the dog shook its fur. Y/n shut the door and grabbed hold of the leash, holding the book in another hand and the two made their way to Gillson Park.

Gillson Park was one of the more popular parks in Evansville because it was known for its stunning natural landscapes that are cherished by both locals and visitors alike. Characterized by lush greenery, serene ponds reflecting the sky, and winding walking trails on steep hills. Tall trees provide a cool respite from the summer sun, while colorful blossoms add vibrancy to the surroundings. Many may describe it as a meadow away from the bustling suburban life.

Y/n found a nice bench by an open field, letting D/n’s leash to wander about the grass and flowers. She propped herself so that she was lying across the bench comfortably, her elbow resting on the arms of the bench. She opened the first page and began to embark on her reading journey.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child you have stolen.” She read aloud, attempting to capture the determination in Sarah’s voice, she chuckled to herself.

“For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great…”

An Owl glided over the sky unnoticed as it emerged amongst Gillson Park. A creature of pure elegance in the backdrop of the midday scenery. His plumage, a pristine canvas of a bold white, seems to shimmer with an otherworldly luminescence, catching the last rays of the afternoon sun like a cascade of fire woven into feathers. He settled on a branch of the tree that was hovered over Y/n, as she continued to focus on the compelling words in the book.

His large, dark eyes were fixed on her as she sat with rapt concentration. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyes moved swiftly across the crisp, white pages. Her hands were holding the book motionless on the crimson red cover as if she was hesitant to disturb the stillness of the moment.

The Owl’s trance was interrupted by the barking of D/n, his heart shaped head turned to the direction of the galloping dog making its way to Y/n, who looked up from her book, set it on her lap, and petted D/n softly.

“This is a good book so far, D/n,” she said with a smile, “I appreciate its detail.” she leaned down and ruffled the dog’s fur, smothering her pet with the love and affection they deserved.

Unbeknownst to them, the owl had been silently observing Y/n's every move from the highest branch of the nearby tree. Y/n shut the book and got up from the bench to grab D/n's leash. As Y/n closed the book and rose from the bench, the owl maintained its vigilant watch, its piercing eyes following their every step. Y/n secured D/n's leash, and the two began their stroll back towards the library's parking lot, the owl gracefully gliding from tree to tree, never losing sight of them.

Once both were in the car, the owl perched on the concrete edge of the library's roof, its keen gaze fixed on the departing car as it merged into the occupied street.

Only when the car disappeared from view did the owl spread its feathered wings and take to the sky again, disappearing into the horizon.

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bicycleboyblog · 7 months ago

Note

super curious about the inspirations behind the Senator and Mary, if you'd like to share

Dang I love this question. Well, once you see it, you'll never unsee. :)

The Senator was inspired by The Batter (OFF), Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing (Hellsing) and Mathis Quigley (Unsounded).

The inspiration from Hellsing is hard to ignore, but I was in love with Integra immediately. She was the first lady character I ever saw wearing men's clothes, with a macho, boxy silhouette, who was in charge of everything. Growing up I hardly made female characters because all the bullshit in life and in stories made me think they couldn't do anything. It's stupid lies and horseshit, but hell. People still think that way, hey? Where do you think they learn it from.

But yeah, a masculine, powerful woman who goes by "Sir"?

Sign me the fuck up.

Then there's The Batter (left); an unstoppable, stone-faced, murderous freak obsessed with purifying the world. His manifesto and off-putting personality directly inspired the Senator. Indeed, there's a line in Chapter 8 that references this. Quigs was mostly visual inspo. I love his platinum hair, razor sharp jaw, and fashionable glasses. :]

There's also probably a little something in there from Alucard (Hellsing, again), and the general horrors of living in a world controlled by detached wealthy assholes who will stop at nothing to destroy all meaningful human connection and control our lives.

Mary, on the other hand, was inspired by the art of my dear friend Dreorcaul. She has a plethora of powerful masculine lady OCs, but one in particular, the gargantuan General Zafim (below, center) of The Sunless Children, set my heart on fire. I thought, well. I want one, too!

Later down the line, I read Satoru Noda's insane 1800s war manga Golden Kamuy, and though I hate the guy, the sniper Ogata (right) made for a bone-chillingly creepy antagonist.

Lieutenant Tsurumi (left) was the biggest influence on Mary's character otherwise. His fiery passion, competence, brutality, and inappropriate closeness to his soldiers were all traits I gave her. I know you might think his scar is, too, but that has another story.

At work I met a middle aged woman with a delicate scar on her face. It was a faint, pale splash radiating out from her nose. I just, I thought she was so beautiful, and Mary was always meant to be hauntingly gorgeous. I guess she came to mind.

#bicycle boy #ask #everythingcounts2007remaster

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valentine-cafe · 3 months ago

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Oh my god i just read about Shī, the manic moon and i love him?? Like genuinely love his character and story and everything aaaaaaa

Can you do something with him?🥺 I don't even know what i just wanna ask for comfort for him actually and generally content for him, pretty please🙏

Also advise on how to write characters would be heavily appreciated. Like, how did you come up with him? Thanks in advance, mo worries if you don't hav ethe time for this ask! Muah!

˖⁺. ﹙ vampire king x gn reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . bloody hands, warm heart !! 🍒 : vampire ˖ former human character﹙ vamp au shī. ﹚

he's lost control again. he doesn't want you near him. but you know your lover - and know his pure heart. all he needs is a little comfort

𖹭. ps : so glad you like him! as to help with character creation - we get inspo from things such as music or art. start with a concept, trope or story that we want to tell and then work from there! @/literaryvein-reblogs has some beautiful templates and tips for in-depth character making!

as for shi himself, we took some inspo from castlevania’s lisa with a bit of our own spin - him and muchen have a story somewhat similar to vlad and lisa there <3 i’ve always wanted to write about the conflict of a human-turned-vampire who sees how those around them act and cannot accept that it is simply their ‘nature’

“you are beautiful.”

“speak no lies to me, beloved.”

a frown settles over your lips at his words. the sound of water splashing and swishing in the bucket that he vigorously washes his hands within spills through the room. drowning out the thick silence that settled between the both of you.

willing your muscles, you push yourself closer to him. delicately placing your hands upon his back and leaning your head against it as well. “my tongue knows no lies.” you murmur. his breath hitches.

the silence drones on. his wet hands halting. the droplets of water stained red with his recent hunt slip down his long, trembling fingers.

with a tender touch, you turn him to face you. his long white hair curtains your face. so that it is just you and him. with hands that know no judgement you press them to his face. thumbs slowly circling along his cheekbones.

“perhaps it is you that should not speak lies to that stunning mind of yours.”

a drop hits your face. slides down your cheek. your own tears join the cascade. the vampire collapses into your arms with a shake in his shoulder — and you so readily catch him. shushing him. easing him.

“I-I am so sorry - I try -”

“sshh, sshh - it is alright. my darling.”

your hand ventures into his hair. fixing tangled strands from the roaring wind outside. before it guides his head to your chest, so that he might hear another heart other than his slow-beating one. listen, soothe.

“you have struggled. yet you try. please, do not say what I know you will.”

I am a monster. those words always squeezed your heart. so as you held him within your arms and led him back to the bedchamber. you are sure to give him only the love he deserves. until he drifts off to the sound of your beautiful melody.

#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: vamp au shi 𖹭 ݁#monster boyfriend #teratophillia #monster fucker #vampire x reader #terato #monster x reader #oc x reader #monster oc #x reader #reader insert #original character x reader #vamp au shi #asterism vampire au #monster angst #monstef fluff #asterism

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viktoriaashleyyx · 4 months ago

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The High Lord and the Selkie

"Lord long have I loved you, as a selkie on the foam, I would gladly go and wed thee and be lady of your home, but to stay on land past midnight, it would surely be my death."

Tarquin Bonus chapter, can stand alone. Influenced heavily by The Maiden and the Selkie by Heather Dale.

I've been in my Tarquin feels recently, he needs some love. Bonus chapter for A Court Reborn. Also this is Pro Tamlin, he doesn't have a large part, but does show up towards the end.

Word Count: 3085

Tarquin art // Ocean Art // Selkie Art

One cool Summer morning, before the Sun rose fully to heat the land, Tarquin sat out on the private fishing pier at the edge of his estate, pants rolled up to his knees, legs dangling above the clean Sea water. This was his favorite place, he would come here every chance he could get to just sit and watch the Sea. More than half of his life was spent trapped under the mountain, facing disgusting cruelties daily, never able to feel the Sun on his skin, he would not take the sight of the waves rolling in and the smells of the salty air for granted.

As a small child, his mother would take him to this very spot and teach him how to swim. He would run full speed into the water forcing his mother to dive in after him. His heart ached, now all he had left of her were his memories. Her sweet smile, the way her voice always softened when speaking to him, how he never had any doubt that she would protect him, and she did. Until her dying breath. Until Amarantha waved that ugly wrist of hers and stole her from him. Such a small gesture, movement, and his entire world was ripped out from under him.

No. He had to stop himself. The dark thoughts of those days always found a way to creep back in. “Remember your mother as she lived, don't let Amarantha continue to steal your light.” he would tell himself in times like this. He wanted nothing more than to forget that horrid witch.

He continued watching the waves crash into the pier, it was high tide so every now and then the Sea water would splash and kiss his feet gently. He liked to believe that was his mother, reaching out to him to remind him that she will always be with him. As the sun rose above the horizon, the sky was painted in the most beautiful shades of oranges and yellows. Sometimes, he felt like the sea was staring back at him. He felt a strong pull towards the sea, he considered it a side effect of his High Lord powers.

Just below the surface of the water, a selkie watched him longingly. Her seal eyes allowed her to see through the waves, and for months now she would leave the safety of her underwater town and travel close to the surface, just to get a glimpse of the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

Her name was Maive and she was the daughter of a decently well off Seal Lord. Well, would be well off if she wasn’t one of eight girls. She was the fourth born, middle child that no one paid too much attention to. She had grown to cherish the freedom that came with it. She could shed her seal coat and join her friends at parties in Adriata without anyone noticing she was gone. But, if she ever allowed herself to think too hard about it, she would long for someone who would care. Someone to notice when she's had a rough day, or even remember that her favorite color was teal, not pink.

She watched the male intensely, hoping that one day he would shed his clothes and jump in the water, or that she would be able to muster the courage to crawl on land and say something to him, anything. His white loc’d hair hung down to his mid chest and contrasted his dark brown skin beautifully. She dreamed of his gorgeous face, his light blue eyes, wide nose and could only imagine what a smile would look like on those lovely full lips. It was obvious he was a “High Fae” as they called themselves, and she was a “lesser fae.” Lesser. That’s what his people thought of her. Lesser. Even if she ever did get a chance to hear his voice, he would never think of her as more than just a subject. That's what her sisters told her. That's why we stay in the ocean and rarely go ashore.

She had heard different sentiments though. When the Red haired witch's curse was broken, a new High Lord of Summer returned, one who dreamed of bridging the divide between High and Lesser fae. The rumors were spotty and she picked up what she could during her trips, but she was barely 70 years of age, most of her friends didn’t like discussing politics. She had heard enough to scrounge up a little bit of childish hope. Even if that's all it ever became, she would allow herself this fantasy, happiness was happiness, even if it was fleeting.

Maive felt a twinge of sadness as Tarquin rose to leave. She knew he wouldn’t stay out here all day, and she cursed herself for, once again, not having the gall to speak to him. She knew her Fae form was beautiful to the people of Adriata. Her seal coat looked more or less like her sisters, black beady eyes that helped her see through the waves, soft gray skin and a cute belly that kept her warm in the ocean depths. But when she shed her coat and joined her friends on shore, the hair on her head was long, to the backs of her knees, a pale greenish color, her skin a darker shade of green with near black freckles lining her cheeks and nose. She doubted it was enough to win the heart of a High Fae male.

♥♥♥♥♥

A few days later, Maive had snuck off to visit her friend, Marielle, and plan their outfits for the upcoming ball at the Summer castle. High Lord Tarquin had sent out flyers inviting everyone in Adriata to the large party he was throwing at his seaside estate. A celebration for winning the war, and the breaking of the curse. The repairs in the city were finally coming to completion. Maive’s knowledge of Prythian current events was lacking considering she would die if she even tried to stay on land past midnight.

“We have to find the perfect dresses,” Marielle gushed excitedly to Maive, “this party will be High Fae and Lesser Fae, do you understand how big this is? We’ve never been welcome at the castle! Maybe this new High Lord is true to his word.” Marielle was a urisk and always kept Maive informed of everything happening on land. “Your mystery man could be there” She teased with a knowing smile.

“Will you stop it!” Maive giggled, “I’m already nervous enough as it is!” Marielle would tease Maive for her crushes and Maive would tease Marielle for her lack of crushes. Marielle, while she loved the parties and dancing, she had never shown much interest in romance for herself. She was content and happy, living in her little apartment in the city square, all her own. She could do as she pleased, stay up as late as she wanted, and invite over whoever she wanted. She had a healthy amount of platonic friends and that filled her heart.

♥♥♥♥♥

The day of the ball, the girls along with a few more friends, gathered back at Marielles apartment to get ready. Her house was the closest, so it required the least amount of walking to the castle. Maive had picked out a shimmery blue gown that made her dark green skin glow. It had skinny straps and a flowing neckline, just enough to showcase her favorite part of her body, her shoulders and neck, and flared out into a mermaid cut at the knees. Marielle curled her hair and added bright green shimmery eyeshadow to Maive’s eyelids. She felt like royalty.

As the girls entered the castle, excited and giggly, it took mere seconds for Maive to spot him. It's like she was pulled towards him. The entire world stopped and she froze as his eyes shifted towards, and caught on her. He was the High Lord Tarquin.

As Tarquin was entertaining the courtiers and citizens in the ballroom, his attention was abruptly pulled toward the door and whatever he was saying left his mind completely. He saw a beautiful young fae, with dark emerald skin and a cute round face. Her big black eyes shimmered in the lights of the ballroom. “Excuse me,” he said, barely looking back to the people he was just speaking to. He was in a trance, he had to talk to her.

Maive shifted her eyes to Marielle, the anticipation looked like fear at first thought, she expected she would have a bit more time, as the nerves grew she reached out for Marielles hand. “Do you see him?” Marielle knew what was going on, she had assumed Maive would be overwhelmed and chose to stay near. “Him? That's Tarquin.” Marielle exclaimed in an excited whisper, noticing Tarquin making his way toward her she added, “no backing out now, just be yourself, I will be close by. You got this.”

“Excuse me, Lady, may I have this dance?” Tarquin tried to hide his shaking, he felt just as nervous as Maive did. All she could manage was a nod as she carefully took his hand. A lump in her throat, led her to believe her voice would crack if she tried to speak. Their eyes had not left each other. She allowed him to lead her to the middle of the ballroom. All eyes fell to them, but neither noticed. As they began to dance, their nerves melted away.

Maive had never learned how to ballroom dance, but following Tarquins lead was easy. It came naturally to her. Chrisseada saw what was happening and took over Tarquins entertaining duties. Her cousin deserved this, and it made her heart happy seeing him happy.

As the music slowed, Tarquin pulled Maive into his chest, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. She smiled and rested her head on his chest.

They danced through the night, neither wanting to let go of the other, even for a moment. Until, that is, Marielle cut in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it is 11:30,” Marielle whispered to Maive, “you need to be heading out now if you are to make it to the sea in time.”

For the first time in her life, Maive resented her binds to the ocean. She looked at Tarquin with sadness in those big dark eyes, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” The words were hard to speak, but she trusted Marielle was looking out for her. Letting go of his hand was harder.

Tarquin pulled her in close, one last time and whispered in her ear “Do you trust me?” She shook her head ‘yes’ and he winnowed them to the shoreline.

Her head spun as she took in her surroundings and noted the feel of the sand seeping into her sandals. Tarquins arms felt like home to her, not her city underwater. She wanted nothing more than to stay. “I am sorry, I just needed a few more minutes with you.” His voice was like a beautiful melody in her ear, now that she could hear it clearly. “What is your name?” He needed to hear her voice again, too.

“Maive,” she whispered, looking up at him, trying to process the absolute perfection of this evening, not wanting it to end, ever.

“Maive,” He repeated, she had never loved her name more than hearing it on his lips. It dripped graciously from them like honey. He leaned in to kiss her, and her heart began to beat faster, until she had a thought that cut it off before it even happened.

“My coat!!” She cried. You would think she knew to keep better track of it, given it is her life on the line, but she can’t help being aloof at times. She began searching for it frantically, she usually left it under the pier by Marielles apartment, but Tarquin hadn’t winnowed them to the same spot she entered from. Tarquin understood and immediately began helping her look for it.

“Is this what you are looking for?” Tarquin asked innocently, holding up the soft, but heavy, gray coat.

“Put that down. You don’t know what this would mean.” Maive reluctantly cried. For another Fae to return her seal coat to her, they would be wed. It couldn’t happen this way. She wanted him to choose her, not be bound to her by tradition.

He listened and set it on the ground, and took a few steps back. She ran to slip it on, halfway, and Tarquin led her into the water.

Tarquin held her close to his chest, forehead pressed to hers as the moon rose directly above them. “I will find a way. I promise,” he breathed as a tear escaped, running down her cheek. She kissed him deeply, there were no fireworks, no butterflies, she felt safe, calm. It was better than she had ever fantasized.

“Goodbye, Tarquin,” she gave him a soft smile as she dipped under the waves and returned to her seal family.

♥♥♥♥♥

Tarquin had called to meet with the three people whom he trusted and would know the best. He winnowed to the front door of the Spring Court manor just as Sky had done a month prior upon their first meeting. The trellises scaled the building and were covered in red roses, Spring was healing. That sentiment made him happy. During the reign of Amarantha, Tamlin had taken Summer court citizens in, even celebrated the Solstice to provide them some form of comfort in the times Tarquin was trapped under the mountain. Tarquin always believed that Tamlin had a good heart under all of that stone.

“I have a meeting with the High Lord, Tamlin” Tarquin held his head high and spoke confidently, as Crisseada commanded him to. The guards led him through the halls of the manor and he noted how much repair has been done in such a short time. It was only a few months ago that Tarquin had seen the Manor in complete ruin following Hyberns attack. At the time he hadn’t fully understood why Tamlin chose to side with Hybern, but when Tarquin saw him show up to the battlefield, hand around Barons throat to turn the tide, and ultimately win the war for Prythia, he knew Tamlin was smarter than he was given credit for.

He entered the large meeting room with a circular table in the middle. Tamlin, Sky and Lucien were already there waiting on him. Sky gave him a big smile and a tight hug. “Welcome to Spring, High Lord Tarquin,”

Tamlin and Lucien shook his hand and Tarquin was nervous as he sat down. “You seem to be more.. cheerful than the last time we saw you, Tarquin, what’s going on?” Tamlin asked lightly, noticing Tarquins nerves.

Tarquin wasn’t sure how to begin. He suspected Maive to be his mate, but a High Lord mated to a – he stopped himself even in his thoughts, we won't use those terms anymore. She is a Selkie, nothing about her is Lesser. “I have a bit of a predicament, and I thought who better to ask than the three of you. With Skys otherworldly wisdom, Lucien’s knowledge of Prythia due to being a well traveled emissary, and Tamlins.. Shapeshifting, I was hoping the four of us could come up with a way for me… to wed my mate.” The last few words came out cautiously.

Sky gasped and smiled wide, “What is her name? Where did yall meet?? What's keeping you apart?” Her excitement steadily decreased.

“Her name is Maive and she is a Selkie.” Tarquin announced proudly. All three of them immediately understood the predicament, but Lucien flinched. Memories of Jesminda, of when he tried to wed a lower class fae, flooded in. Tarquin wasn't much older than Lucien was when he lost Jesminda. He reassured himself that Tarquins situation is different, for starters, Tarquin doesn’t have Baron breathing down his neck.

“I have never heard of a selkie remaining on land and living to dawning, have you, Sky?” Lucien thought aloud.

“Never,” Sky responded and Tarquin shrank in disappointment. “We could ask Helion? I’m sure there is something in his lib–”

“No.” Lucien snapped, but softened quickly. “If word gets out, the older High Lords will seek to kill her. They do not like those they view as lesser than them marrying into power.”

“I would never let anything happen to her.” Tarquin assumed Lucien was insinuating he was too weak to protect his own people. To protect her. He still held shame for allowing the Night Court to steal from him.

“You might not have the chance, if we erupt into civil war.” Lucien warned. Two completely different wounds clashing. Neither meant harm or disrespect.

“What if you resided in the sea? Instead of her leaving her home behind, you join her?” Tamlin diverted the subject back to the reason for the meeting, noticing the tension. Tamlin knew both Tarquin and Lucien's reasons, but that can be clarified at a different time.

“My powers revolve more around bringing the sea to land, I cannot breathe underwater if that's what you are asking. My beast form can. But I need rage to shift into beast form and when I am around her, all I feel is calm. I have tried all I can think of.” Tarquin clarified.

“What if you could shift without the rage?” Tarquin was confused at Tamlins question, he just told him he couldn’t. Tamlin stretched out his hand to Tarquin and in it, a kernel of his power. Lucien, Sky and Tarquins eyes all widened in shock. “When we revived Feyre, she was able to retain a small amount of each of our powers, who is to say you wouldn't? I’ve done this twice before, I doubt you would need to be dead to accept it. And you are far more deserving than the last prick I gave one to.” Tarquin accepted the kernel and took it in his hand. “You, hopefully, will be able to at least shift yourself some gills. I can help teach you, and I’m sure Sky and Lucien will continue searching for a way for her to stay on land.”

“Are you sure?” Tarquin whispered. Was it really that easy? Just one small kindness from the neighboring High Lord to ease the biggest burden plaguing Tarquin these days. Tarquin pressed the kernel into his chest.

Tag list for main fic: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria @littlefantasylover @julesvanslutta

@theegemini92 also expressed interest ❤️

#tarquin fanfiction #acotar tarquin #high lord tarquin #tarquin x oc #high lord of the summer court #summer court #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic

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