#c ; I will defeat sorrow.

[tsunael]

5 Character Associations - Tsuna

Tagged by: tumblr said I was tagged in this and I don't think I was?? SO IM DOING IT ANYWAY. And if you actually did and I'm blind? Thank you @icehearts !! Tagging: @wind-up-nhaama !!

EMOTIONS/FEELINGS

Vengeful

Compassion

Shame

Trust

Warm

COLORS

Red (justice, self-sacrifice, & blood)

White (purity, death & mourning)

Purple (nobility & strength)

Green (tea & the green wrath)

Pink (flowers & girlish sensibility)

SCENTS

Sandalwood (Incense, earthy)

Brightlily (her home, her perfume)

Walnut oil (polished wood, her hair & skin)

Alcohol (a healer & bad habits)

Fogweed (a vice)

OBJECTS

A ring on her hand; a promise.

A chain across her horns; an apology.

Job stones; pearl white & jet black.

Crystal of Azem; A dream of a woman called Ourania…

A kaiken; always on her. It drew her first blood.

BODY LANGUAGE

Coquettish. She once knew the power that a mere glimpse of her wrist could hold.

Her tail belies her emotions.

Poised, rigid. She lives with Doman discipline.

She moves with a dancer's grace.

Worshipping. Once she abstained, now she devours.

AESTHETICS

White flowers in a vase; dried.

Lacquered paulownia wood; polished.

Countless pearls in your cupped hands.

Ripe peaches in a bowl; a side of fresh cream.

The scent of the forest after a warm rain.

SONGS:

Rabbit Heart (This is a gift, it comes with a price.)

Shura no Hana (I threw away my womanhood long ago.)

Lost Childhood (Mother, I miss how you always kissed me goodnight. Father, I miss how you told me your gentle lies.)

Sweet Song (You were a half of me a long time ago.)

Cherry Wine (But I want it, it's a crime. That [s]he's not around most of the time.)

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Thats never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[4ranghaes]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ bnd as subs!

bnd legal line x reader [smut, separate classifications on each, SMUT!!!! mdni!!!!!]

a/n - i have requests to complete but i also have bnd sub brainrot

sungho 🎀 [feminisation, gender neutral!reader, softdom!reader, just good boy!yeppi]

“oh you look so pretty, baby!” you cooed, watching sungho exit your en-suite and enter into your bedroom. he was wearing a white crop top, oversized, so it hung around his body, showing off his thin waist. accentuating the crop top was a pair of black panties, doing nothing to hide how turned on he really was by the whole situation.

“really?” he pouted, walking towards the bed where you were sat. his chestnut hair had grown out, the layers framing his face beautifully as it flowed down his neck and cascaded around his ears.

“yes!” you smiled, walking over and slinging your arms around his neck, kissing at his jaw, “my yeppi.”

sungho whined, moving closer so his bulge could be felt against your body, grinding slowly once he felt the gratification, “y/n… please…”

“what, baby?” you pouted, pulling away and tucking his hair behind his ears. his eyes were big and sorrowful, his lips in a pout.

“need you to touch me.”

“yeah?” you cooed, leading him over to the bed and instructing him to lie down on his back, “since you asked so nicely, yeppi.” sungho smiled proudly, once he was in the sub role, he loved being called by the once embarrassing nickname. he was pretty, and he was your yeppi.

your hands rested on his slim waist, licking a stripe up his black panties as he whimpered, hands finding purchase in your hair.

“y/n… please,” he whined. you smiled, moving your hands down to start pulling down his panties, leaving them around his knees; the knowledge that he was bound even a little bit had wetness pooling in your panties.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you cooed, finally moving back to his upper body. the removal of his panties had caused his cock to spring up, slapping against his lower stomach where it was now laying in a pool of pre-cum which didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. “oh yeppi, you’re so wet.”

you swiped a finger through the precum, sucking it off with a pop as sungho moaned, clutching at the sheets. he felt your breath get closer to his cock once again, before you started kissing at his lower stomach. he whined loudly, his head thrashing around on the pillow.

“okay, okay,” you laughed, dragging your fingertip up his length, making him shiver, “my yeppi. i’ll give you what you want.”

riwoo 🦦🍡 [humiliation, harddom!reader, gender neutral!reader BUT, slight mummy kink, dacryphilia]

riwoo let out a loud whine, his head flying back against the back cushion of the sofa as his hand worked tirelessly on his cock. he was sat like any other day, anyone entering could think he was just watching the tv - if it wasn’t for his cock, an angry shade of red, precum constantly leaking from the tip, as it stood up, totally bare.

you sighed, “have i ruined you so much that you can’t even get yourself off?”

riwoo shook his head desperately, his eyes squeezed shut. “i just— i-it hurts!”

“so? it’s your cock, you know what to do with it.”

he continued shaking his head from side to side, tears falling from his eyes as they opened again, looking at you sorrowfully.

“y/n…” he whimpered, “please…”

“please, what, baby?” you asked, moving yourself onto his lap and beginning to kiss all over his face, his cock now squeezed in between your bodies as his arms flopped to his sides in defeat.

“please touch me,” he sobbed, resting his head on your shoulder. before you could correct him, he continued with a sorrowful whine, “touch my cock, y/n, please. i need you!”

you smiled, cupping his face in your hands and moving it so he was looking at you. he looked a mess; his eyes red from all the tears, his lips pouty and covered in spit from all the biting and licking. moving your hand off his face, you spat into the palm, wrapping it round the base of his cock. however, the added spit among the non-stop pre-cum spilling out and that which had been already spread around made it hard to grip.

you rolled your eyes, sighing, “you’re so wet, riwoo. you’re making it hard for me.”

riwoo’s breath caught in his throat, barely able to make any sounds as your hand slipped and slid around his cock. with a dramatic sigh, you got off his lap and onto your knees. his eyes snapped open at feeling your hot breath on his sensitive length.

“i guess i’ll have to get this all off somehow, hmm?” you teased, gathering a dollop of liquid on the tip of your finger, “i think sucking it off will be better, right?”

riwoo whined loudly, “thank you, thank you… oh my god, thank you mummy.”

jaehyun 🪻🐕 [brat!jaehyun, fem!reader, hard dom!reader, mentions of edging and chastity cage]

“jaehyun!”

“y/n,” he whined, his voice loud, but covered by even louder whimpers as he looked up at you with big brown eyes, sparkling with tears, “help me!”

you looked furiously at your boyfriend, arms crossed as you stood at the door, trying to hide how turned on you were. jaehyun was on your bed with his face buried in, what you recognised to be, your dirty underwear; your pillow between his legs as he humped at it furiously.

“why should i help you, when you’re blatantly disrespecting my rules?!” you asked, walking over to the bed and putting your finger under his chin, pulling his head to look at you.

“i–i’m not,” he panted, not even attempting to still his hips, “yo-your rule is to– to not touch myself! i-i’m not, i swear!”

you scoffed, balling up the dirty panties that he’d been sniffing and shoving them in his mouth before ripping the pillow out from under his body, the friction of the material on his hard cock making him moan.

“jaehyun, stop!” you commanded, pushing him over so he was laying on his back, his hips finally stilling.

“y/n, please,” he whined, grabbing at your waist as you climbed over his body, “i’m so hard, look! i need you so badly, please…”

his big brown eyes were staring up at you like a puppy, his hands desperately clawing at your clothes. you sat up, legs straddling his hips, hand splayed on his tummy to keep his writhing body down.

jaehyun’s t-shirt had started riding up, displaying the bottom of his soft tummy, his boxers doing a laughable job at hiding his hard length, a wet patch appearing on the front of the light fabric.

you hummed, taking your hand off of his stomach and instead using it to pull your panties to the side, revealing your wet clit to him. you started circling it slowly with your other hand, moaning as you did so.

jaehyun’s lip was held tightly between his teeth, his eyes hooded as he barely blinked, watching where your fingers met your cunt so intensely. he suddenly reached forward, grabbing his leaking length out of his boxers and swiping the tip against your cunt.

you lurched forward, grabbing both his hands as you went and holding them above his head.

“don’t you dare touch yourself,” you hissed, “puppy, you’re not gonna be cumming for a long time, you know that, right?”

myungjae whimpered as you grabbed one of the pieces of ribbon you had stashed out of the bedside table, tying his wrists together before tying them to the bedpost.

“tonight, you’re gonna watch me make myself cum,” you murmured, your mouth hovering over his ear, “then, i’m going to edge you until you’re shaking and begging me to let you cum. then, i’m going to leave you until morning - and i will use the cage if necessary. got it, myung-ah?”

taesan 🐈‍⬛🎸 [soft dom!reader, gender neutral!reader, BUT major mummy kink, blowjob]

“i’m just tired, tonight, i’m sorry,” your boyfriend fake-smiled with a shrug.

“you don’t need to be sorry!” you exclaimed. you weren’t feeling anything negative when taesan had rejected your attempts at starting something heated; he’d had schedules all day and you knew he was tired, but now he seemed like he had a cloud looming over him. “i’m just worried about you.”

taesan was silent for a few moment, before he swallowed a rising lump in his throat, sparing a glance down to you before looking forward. “do you ever– hmm. um, uh… are you– no, forget it.”

“no! please, say,” you said, sitting up and placing your hand on his cheek. taesan nuzzled into your hold slightly, whimpering quietly. you bit your lip, that was hot.

“i just…” he hesitated, sighing before he closed his eyes and got it all out in one go, “i sometimes wish i could be a sub when we have sex—but i’m really embarrassed about it— and i don’t really want to address it, but sometimes i just want to be taken care of.”

you smiled, nodding, pretending as though you hadn’t even heard his words as you started pressing soft kisses to his face. from his forehead, to his nose, cheeks, lips, jaw; finally you headed down, taking off his shirt to gain access to his beautiful torso.

“is this okay?” you murmured, taesan nodding stiffly as he laid further down, starting to let you take care of him.

your kisses stopped at his chest, your nails suddenly raking down his waist as he shivered. you stopped your hands at his sweatpants.

“can i take care of you, baby?” you asked, cupping his face with one hand while the other dipped below his waistband. taesan shivered, nodding quickly.

you pulled down his sweatpants, his cock springing out, already half-hard at the feeling of you babying him.

“my baby,” you cooed, coming back up to his face as you ran your hands through his hair, “you just wanna be taken care of, right? well don’t worry your pretty little head, okay? just lay back and i’ll do all the work tonight.”

“okay,” taesan squeaked in a tiny voice, “thank you mummy.”

you smiled at the nickname, moving back down his body, dragging your fingers as you went. taesan played with your hair delicately, twirling the strands round his fingers as you started to kiss his length, starting at the base and moving up until you pressed a kiss to the tip. the boy shuddered, his hips bucking into the air in a feeble attempt to gain more contact.

“tell me when you’re about to cum, okay, baby?” you cooed, looking up at your boy’s pretty face, “you can’t cum without mummy’s permission tonight.”

taesan nodded quickly, eager to please, as you spat on the head of his cock, using your hand to spread the glob around, before sinking your mouth over his length.

taesan moaned at the contact, “thank you, mummy, thank you!”

leehan 🪸🐠 [soft dom!reader (i think), edging, mentions of exhibitionism, loud+whiny!leehan, name calling]

“donghyun-ah,” you laughed, slamming your hand over his mouth, his full lips pressing against your palm, “shh! you need to be quiet.”

“c-can—ah! can’t help it, y– shit! y/n,” he panted, his hips constantly bucking up and down as your hand jerked him off. he was so slick with your spit that the wet sound could be heard throughout the room, alongside leehan’s incessant moans, “fe— feels so— ugh! feels so good, fuck!”

“mm, i’m sure it does baby,” you cooed, kissing the side of his lips gently, “but your members are right outside, aren’t they? and you don’t want them to know what a big baby you are, do you?”

leehan shook his head quickly, still moaning loudly, despite your words, as your hand stroked his slit.

“donghyun!”

“i’m sorry!” he cried, suppressing a sob as tears formed at his waterline. his hands were gripping at the sheets, his hairline wet with sweat, and his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “y-y/n, please let me cum now—please.”

you sighed, “i don’t know, hyunnie, baby. you haven’t obeyed me at all, have you? being all loud so anyone can hear you.”

leehan bit back a moan, a suppressed low noise escaping his throat. “p-please.”

“how many have passed now?” you hummed.

“uhmm,” leehan could barely think straight, let alone remember what had happened over the last hour. he had to throw out a number, “four?”

you smiled, speeding up as you saw his length twitching, “it’s actually only been two, baby boy, but if you want four that bad…”

“i’m gonna cum! i’m cum—” you ripped your hand away, leehan’s hips flailing as he rides out an orgasm that was slipping away from him, “ah! no! y/n! please! hurts, oh my god!”

you giggle, kissing him to swallow his moans. pulling away, he still lets out a loud whine as you roll your eyes. “you’re such a loud little slut, you know that?”

“please, y/n,” leehan said, his big boba eyes looking up at you, eyelashes full of tears as you brush your hand through his hair, the sweat making it stick back, “let me cum…”

[alyrasturnz]

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ DEVOTION IN DISTRESS

❐ summary » matt refused to let a mere sickness stand in the way of what was meant to be your special night. with a resolve as steadfast as the mountains, he cast aside any thoughts of weakness, determined that no ailment would tarnish the moments you had both eagerly anticipated. his spirit was a beacon of unwavering determination, illuminating the path forward despite the shadows of illness.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x sick!reader

❐ warnings » pet names

❐ a/n && w/c » i'm literally sick rn • 1.60k

"hey babe! we still on for that dinner tonight?" matt asked, his voice ringing through the speaker. he leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming a rhythmic pattern on the edge of the table as he waited for a response, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall, counting the seconds in a mix of anticipation and mild anxiety.

your head was pounding, each throb resonating like a drumbeat echoing through your skull, and you felt horrible, an overwhelming wave of discomfort washing over you. you sniffled a little bit, the sound barely audible yet a stark reminder of your congestion, and you shook your head slowly, as if attempting to dislodge the fog of malaise that clouded your thoughts.

"m'sorry matt... i forgot about that," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "i'm sick... i can't go. i’m really sorry, i know you’ve been looking forward to this."

matt had been planning this date for weeks, meticulously arranging every detail with a level of care and anticipation that spoke volumes of his excitement. guilt consumed your entirety at the thought of his disappointed face, the mental image of his crestfallen expression gnawing at your conscience.

each imagined look of letdown seemed to pierce your heart with an almost tangible ache, amplifying the weight of your regret and the sorrow you felt for having to let him down.

but instead of disappointment lacing his voice, you only heard concern, a warm undercurrent of worry that softened his words. "are you okay? is it serious? do you need anything? meds? a massage?" he rambled, his questions tumbling out in a rush of genuine care. before you could respond, he continued, his tone resolute. "wait—y’know what, i’ll just come over. bye, i'll see you in a bit," he said, his voice filled with determination, before hanging up abruptly.

"wait—" you began, your voice trailing off into the silence that followed. it was too late; the call had already ended, leaving you with the echo of his concern and the dial tone as your only companions.

you slowly rose to your feet, each movement sending shivers cascading through your body like ripples on a still pond. a hearty cough escaped your lips, reverberating through the quiet room and leaving an aftertaste of lingering discomfort.

your head was pounding with a relentless rhythm, each throb echoing like a distant drum. you attempted to fully rise, but your strength failed you, and you collapsed back onto your mattress with a low, defeated groan, the sound a testament to your exhaustion and frustration.

but soon enough, matt opened the door to your bedroom, his arms laden with bags, the rustling of paper and plastic heralding his arrival.

"hi," he greeted with a warm smile. "i brought some meds in case you didn't have any, and a few snacks—your favorites," he added, closing the door behind him with a soft click as he approached you, his presence a comforting balm to your weary soul.

"oh matt," you murmured softly, a gentle smile gracing your lips as your weak hands reached out to take the bags from him. "thank you so much. that's incredibly sweet of you."

"no problem," he responded with a sheepish smile, leaning in to plant a soft, tender kiss on your lips.

"no matt! you'll get sick," you exclaimed, your voice tinged with concern as you instinctively backed away a little, trying to shield him from your ailment.

"yeah? i will?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows in curiosity as you nodded solemnly, your expression a mixture of worry and insistence.

"mhm," you hummed softly, your eyes closing briefly as his smirk widened with playful intent. He leaned in closer, his lips tracing a path of tender kisses across your forehead, cheeks, and nose, each touch leaving a trail of warmth. "matt, stoppp," you giggled, your laughter bubbling up as you playfully tried to fend off his affectionate assault, your heart fluttering with each gentle kiss.

he then paused, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, before leaning in to plant one final, lingering kiss on your lips. "have you eaten yet?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with genuine concern.

"uhhhh," you drew out, your voice trailing off as you slowly shook your head, a slight hesitation evident in your eyes.

matt let out a low chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "c’mon, let's get you something to eat," he said, his voice warm and inviting as he gently took your hand, guiding you towards the kitchen.

"but i don't want to," you whined, your voice tinged with a hint of petulance. matt raised his eyebrows, a look of playful exasperation crossing his face as he regarded you.

"baby, you have to," he said, his voice a blend of concern and determination as he gently took your hand in his, his fingers brushing against your skin with a reassuring warmth. "that's the only way you'll get better," he continued, his eyes locking onto yours, conveying a depth of understanding and a plea for you to trust him.

"but i'm on the brink of throwing up," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you spoke. his eyes widened ever so slightly, reflecting a mix of concern and urgency as he tried to process your words.

"okay... we can just watch a movie?" he suggested, his tone softening as he searched your eyes for agreement. you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you welcomed the compromise.

he crawled into bed next to you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. you instinctively scooched a little away from him, creating a small but noticeable gap between your bodies.

"hey," he said, his voice low and inviting as he turned to face you. "c'mere," he added, extending his hand toward you, his eyes softening with a mixture of warmth and anticipation.

"you're going to get sick," you said, your voice laced with concern, as you watched him with a furrowed brow, the weight of your worry evident in your eyes.

matt let out a rich, hearty laugh. "i've just peppered your face with kisses. i'm in way too deep," he said, his voice filled with playful affection. "just come here and cuddle with me," he added, extending his arm toward you, creating a welcoming space for you to nestle into his embrace.

you rested your head on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, as you watched matt meticulously scroll through the myriad of movies on netflix, his fingers dancing across the remote with an almost mesmerizing rhythm.

soon, he selected a movie, and as it began to play in the background, the soft glow of the screen casting gentle shadows, you found yourself slowly drifting into a peaceful slumber.

»--•--«

you awoke to find matt no longer by your side, the warmth of his presence replaced by an empty space. confusion knitted your brows together as you tried to shake off the remnants of sleep, your mind slowly coming to terms with his sudden absence.

your gaze fell upon the television screen, which was paused in a moment of stillness. you then shifted your eyes to the clock on the wall, its hands pointing resolutely to 7pm, marking the passage of time with an unwavering precision.

"matt," you called out, your voice breaking the stillness of the room. soon enough, matt appeared, walking in with a tray delicately balanced in his hands, each step measured and careful as he approached.

your mouth fell agape in astonishment. upon the tray rested a steaming bowl of soup, a glass of water glistening with condensation, your favorite can of soda, and your medications neatly arranged, each item placed with thoughtful precision.

"matt—did you do all this for me?" you asked, your voice tinged with a blend of slight disbelief and pure affection, as you sat up. he nodded proudly, a warm smile spreading across his face, his eyes reflecting the depth of his care and dedication.

"not to stroke my own ego... but yeah, i did," he said with a laugh, gently placing the tray onto your lap. you jutted your bottom lip out, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. as you looked up at him, a single tear broke free, tracing a delicate path down your cheek, capturing the depth of your gratitude and the overwhelming emotion of the moment.

"aw," he chuckled softly, bringing his thumb to your cheek to gently wipe away the tear. "no tears, baby," he murmured with a tender smile, his eyes locking onto yours, radiating warmth and reassurance.

"this is so sweet," your voice cracked, laden with emotion, as he let out a soft, comforting chuckle. "i love you," you whispered, your words carrying the weight of your heartfelt sincerity.

"i love you too, y/n," he chuckled softly, his voice a soothing balm to your soul, as he leaned in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead, the warmth of his lips lingering like a gentle promise.

you let out a soft giggle, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "i swear, you're gonna get so sick after this," you teased, the playful lilt in your voice contrasting with the concern that flickered in your gaze.

"you're gonna look after me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and vulnerability. you nodded, your expression softening as you silently promised to be his unwavering support.

"oh yeah, for sure i am," you smiled, a reassuring warmth in your eyes as you lifted your spoon and took a thoughtful bite of the steaming soup, savoring the comforting flavors that mirrored your promise.

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @thedangerousalleyway @sturniolo0bsessed @muchloveforhacker @stinkytinkywinky @jetameivous @everleiqh

[yourlittlebunnyy]

snow - azriel x reader

main masterlist azriel masterlist

kallias version

summary: Lover, wife, mate. Until he loses you.

warnings: death, happy but not very happy ending;)

w/c: 3.5k

a/n: this fic is fully inspired by "snow" by maxence fermine.

enjoy!

That evening, over a glass of good wine given to him by his uncle Rhysand, and with his other half, your son said, “I don't even remember what she looked like in the face.” And he laughed chasing away the negativity of the situation.

It was true. He no longer remembered your face. But you remember - no, you observe - his from the day you left. He didn't have you beside him, but you were always there, revelling in his victories and grieving over his sorrows.

That night you visited him in his sleep. He did not recognize you.

“My son.” You greeted him. You were on a flowery meadow. He reciprocated, but showed no signs of affection. You were little more than a stranger to him.

You shared blood. You had carried him for ten months. You had nurtured and changed him for two years. But to him, you were nothing.

“My father never told me anything about you.” He said it as if to justify his distance.

But you understand it, you always understand.

You were as close to your child as you were to Azriel, your beloved. You understood and accepted and respected his grief. You understood and accepted and respected being gone from the world all of a sudden. Your memory kept alive only by your mate, quietly and intimately. And you were fine with that.

“Would you like to know?” You asked him at that point. Your arms quivered for contact. Your son nodded.

And so, your story began.

“I would never have seen the light if my love for him had not been there to enlighten me. And he would never have seen it if it were not for me.” The Fae snorted a laugh, interrupting you.

“That's impossible.”

“Why do you say that?” You questioned.

“I know my father. A female would never be able to reduce him like that. He is a warrior.” Hurt, you shifted your gaze to the lush field in front of you.

“Then you don't know your father as well as you think, honey. That's all right, it's a long story. It would have bored you anyway.”

“No.” He begged, surprising you and himself. “Please, tell.”

“Our story goes back centuries. We were about your age.” You took a deep breath, and dove into the memories. “It all began magically. One winter day, while returning from the battle against Hybern, he fell in love with me. I was very different from the kind of females he was used to. At that time he was the Spy Master of the Night Court. He had participated in a very violent war that had ended in a brilliant, beautiful and unpredictable victory. So that he came back as a victor. Triumphant but wounded. A soldier had injured his best friend, your uncle, Cassian. Killed Amren. Then Rhysand. He had been wounded, too. In the wings. When he returned he still had the senses of that scene: the taste of blood and mud everywhere in his mouth, the memory of hatred painted in Hybern's face, the near-death experience. But it was the age of honor. Those were the joys of war. One had to die or return wounded to be considered victorious.

However, your father never forgot that battle. He could never forget the sight of his family one step away from defeat, from death. It was the most horrible thing he had ever experienced in his entire life. And believe me, honey, your father saw a lot of things. When he returned, he fainted on his bed. His family took him for dead and he lay on that bed for three days, still soiled with the marks of war. It was your aunt, Feyre, who found him, since she was worried about him.

He settled down, but for several days he was shaken. There was still fear in his eyes. Rhysand thanked him for his help, and Azriel was proud, but his pride still remained clouded by sorrow for what he had experienced. Finally, having recovered his energy, he came to a conclusion. He did not want to fight anymore, and not so much because of the wound that had been inflicted on him - he had suffered far worse during his life - but out of sheer disgust with war. He, who had spent his entire life killing, realized that he no longer had any desire to kill.

He therefore left the Wind House and set out on the streets of my beloved Velaris. And it was there, on his walk, that the miracle took place.

Crippled by the cold, at the end of his strength, with the horror of war still in his eyes, alone in the thick of the darkness and the tragedy he had just experienced, alone in the abyss of winter, alone with the vertigo of his loneliness, alone in his silence, where he should have died a hundred times of cold, hunger, fatigue, disappointment and exhaustion, he survived. He survived because what he saw that day, that thing, that extraordinary thing that also came from the other side of reality, no doubt to compensate the horror, that sublime and beautiful thing was the most sublime and beautiful image he had ever been allowed to see in his entire life. That image was me. And he could no longer forget me.

What he saw was me, at the time a young female, balancing on a rope. I felt as light as a bird, felt as graceful as a squirrel as I performed above the silvery river of Velaris. I was sixty feet above the ground. More than walking the wire I was floating in the air as if by magic. I was gliding faintly in the blue up there, standing on my invisible wire, the barbell in my hands. I could have been mistaken for an angel.

Your father slowly approached the river, and my beauty captivated him. He then told me that it was the first time he had seen a female from another Continent in Velaris. I seemed to fly, so, intrigued he advanced again. I was now perfectly above him. A dense crowd had gathered on the shore to witness my strange apparition. He approached an old man and, not taking his eyes off me, asked him who I was. I do not know exactly what he answered him, but from that moment he never stopped looking for me.

I was a funambulist, and my life followed only one line. Straight.

I was from Vallahan, a place far away. They called me Snow. I was nicknamed so because I had skin of glass, eyes of ice, and hair of gold. When I darted through the air I looked as light as a snowflake.

This is how I had begun. One day, while I was still a child, my path had crossed that of a traveling circus. Stunned, I had discovered the possibility of daydreaming. Heedless of the dangers, I had decided to make it my business. I had started with a tightrope stretched a few inches off the ground. Then, little by little, I had gone higher and higher in both height and mastery of my art. And so I became one of the first female funambulists. Up on the tightrope, I never came down again.

I became one for the love of balance. I, whose life unfolded like a twisty thread, excelled in the subtle and treacherous art of doing evolutions on a tightrope. I never felt as comfortable as when I walked on a wire a thousand feet above the ground. Straight ahead of me. Without ever deviating a single millimeter off course. It was my destiny. To advance step by step. From one end of life to the other.

My feats had conquered all of Velaris. By the age of twenty, I had already traveled more than a hundred kilometers on my tightrope, often risking my life. I had stretched my wire between two tall buildings in the Rainbow and balanced several hours above the city, I was like a swan made of wind, snow and silence. Then I had repeated my feats at every place in the Court of Night, each time defying the laws of balance.

I was no mere funambulist. I was proceeding through the air as if by magic. Looking at me so far up there, my body standing upright in the sky like a white flame and my golden hair caressed by the wind, I would have been told that I belonged to heaven. Because for me actually the hardest thing was not keeping myself balanced, or even mastering my fear, much less walking that endless tightrope. The hardest thing was not to turn into a snowflake.

By now I was being claimed in every corner of the Court. I even went to the Court of Nightmares. Then, almost without realizing it, I got as far as the Illyrian Steppes, where your father was ecstatic to watch me. Never before had an artist performed before the Illyrian. And Azriel looked at me and already loved me. In his eyes I was no mere funambulist. I was Snow, and I represented all the beauty of art. When I had finished my performance with the tightrope, and returned to the ground, he could not restrain the urge to approach me. He stepped forward and, in doing so, discovered the fineness of my features, the design of my mouth, the line of my eyebrows, and knew instantly that he could never forget my face. He looked into my eyes, and in turn I squared him. No words were spoken, and that was all we needed. I smiled at him, and in that he lost his soul. He knelt before me and said, “I have been looking for you, mate.”

I, on the other hand, was looking for no one. But his gesture seemed to me of such beauty that I delighted in it. And I accepted the bond. We got married, even. The first years passed happily. A happy event solidified our bond: you. You possessed my features, but your father's strength, darling. Our life was one of peace and silence. Gradually I was settling more and more into this Court. Sometimes I felt homesick for Vallahan, but I never complained about it.

What I missed most of all was my job as a funambulist. One night I dreamed of flying again. The next day, waking up, I thought about the dream again. Then I thought no more about it. The cold weather came. Then spring again. You developed in the ecstasy of light. I was happy. In one hand I held your father's heart and in the other my own, which at the same time I offered to you. And that fragile balance served to keep me balanced on the edge of happiness. But one day that balance became so fragile that it broke. One day the affection you offered me was no longer enough to make me happy. I cruelly missed the life in the air. I thirsted again for vertigo, for thrills, for conquest. I thought only of becoming a funambulist again. I asked Azriel to arrange one last performance. I wanted to stretch a rope from mountain to mountain in the heart of the Steppes.

Surely your father esteemed my desire as foolish, deeming it senseless to endanger my life and the life...of your sister.

But, like a true male, he bowed before me and consented. He had two steel ropes come from the Court of the Day. Then he sent two helpers to secure the longest cable between the two highest peaks.

I slipped the barbell out of my old case, put on my ballerina shoes, and practiced for hours in the garden, passing small mountains of flowers and a pond where yellow water lilies floated. Azriel, on the other hand, never tired of watching me. I was a funambulist without any rival.

On that thread I was happy, free and grateful. I thanked the Mother every day for giving me your father. I had blond hair. I had clear eyes. And I was walking on air.

The performance we stared at for the first few days of summer, my belly barely prominent. A crowd gathered from all over the Court to witness my feats. Lucien and Elain, who at the time had just become High Lords, also came.

When I placed my feet on the cable, the crowd rumbled. Up there, I was so high that those who only looked at me felt dizzy; I looked like a white dot in space, a snowflake in the immensity of the sky.

Armed with my barbell, for more than half an hour I performed high above the ground, slowly approaching the opposite side of the mountain. Below, they were holding their breath. One false step and it was certain death. But I, perfectly mastering my art, advanced inexorably. Step by step. Blow after blow. Silence after silence. From vertigo to vertigo. And your father watched as I danced caressed by his shadows in contrast to my white skin, silently praying for me, for his daughter. For your sister. I never stumbled.

It was the wire that broke. Definitely poorly secured, the cable came off the rock and plunged me into a thousand-foot drop. Me, the barbell and my unborn daughter.

Those who saw me disappear there, in the heart of the Steppes, took me for a bird falling from the sky. And my body was never found again.

I, Snow, became snow and sleep in its whiteness.

Your father never recovered from the loss of me, his mate. He killed the two clumsy helpers with cruelty, hatred and the thirst for revenge commanded his movements. Your uncle allowed him to do so without punishing him. But Azriel felt neither joy nor pity in the act. Killing them would not bring me back to life. He saw only one thing: his own grief. He knew only one thing: that never again would he find the woman he had loved. Never again would he see his Snow again. Never again would he see my beauty again.

Back in our house, now devoid of any joy, he threw away the Illyrian sword with which he had killed the two males. He would never kill again in his life, he promised himself. He would throw himself into pain. In the face of our daughter who died that day with me, in which my own face was reflected, he would weep every tear in his body. There was only one last gift left, one last thing that held him to the world of the living: you.

He sank so deep into his grief that he went blind. Your father accepted it, you know. It doesn't really bother him, he is no longer a warrior. He thinks the Mother no longer saw any sense in keeping his sight, if he wouldn't see me anyway.

I have always been close to him. I have always been close to you, my son. As much as my condition allows me to be.

I have never been given a final farewell. In your house my name is like a curse: it is never spoken and disaster should it be done. Therefore, I have come here, in a dream to you, for one last request. I want to be buried with your father. Come to me.” And you showed him where all that time you were hiding.

“Why didn't you say that before?”

“Because your father would not have been able to go on, seeing my face every day.”

As you spoke, you looked lost in the void, your eyes still veiled by the breath of the dream. The story had been long and paplit. Coming back to reality was difficult. Your son merely smiled and nodded at you, his own eyes wet with tears.

The next day he went to Azriel, who was relaxing by the silver river. He asked him to close his eyes and imagine the whiteness.

“I know where your Snow is.”

At these words, Azriel's face froze. Still with his dead gaze turned toward the river, he said, “Who are you to know this? No one knows where she is. The mountain swallowed her up. A long time ago.”

“That's false. The mountain digested her and returned her body. She is there, under the ice, a meter from the surface. She is there, in a glass coffin, intact and as beautiful as when you met her. In her womb she still holds the fruit of your love. I swear to you that I know where she is. She showed it to me in a dream. If you wish, I can lead you to her.”

Azriel understood that your son was telling the truth, and he could not hold back a tear. “I knew that one day we would meet again. But I did not expect that day to come so late in my life.” He turned to the younger Fae and laid a hand on his shoulder. “And to say that since she died ... since she died I've been looking everywhere for her. I've been looking for her everywhere. In every corner of this Court. In every corner of my mind. In every, single, dream. And now that I can finally see her, I will not see her.”

The next day, after the usual practice, your son asked your mate, “Have you thought about my proposal? When do you want me to take you there?”

Azriel sighed, then replied in a sad voice, “My son. This trip would be useless. I know you speak the truth, but what good would it do for an old blind man to find the grave of a dead lady? Wherever she is, my mate is at peace. May her isolation be respected for eternity.”

“No, father. She told me. Her last request was to be found. To be buried with you.” Azriel disappeared into his garden, leaving his son to be crushed by the weight of his own words.

A month passed. Your son and husband no longer spoke of you. They did not even dare to mention it. Every day, the younger Fae went to Azriel to keep him company, but in the end the two always ended up in oppressive silence. It was as if you were invisible.

But then one morning, standing on the edge of the river in Velaris, Azriel said to your son, “Tomorrow we will visit your mother.” Both of them did not answer, they just smiled.

They left at dawn. Your son guided Azriel with the sound of his footsteps. Every time he offered him a hand to help him over some steeper or treacherous passage, and your husband refused it and punctually overcame the obstacle without the need for help. He may have forgotten that he had been a warrior, but his muscles had not.

At night they slept in the villages. When, upon entering a village, Azriel uttered his name and declared where he was from, the doors opened before him as if by magic. The entire Night Court seemed to know his old reputation. Your son was astonished.

And he understood how fortunate he had been to be able to follow the teaching of such a father.

The journey was long, of unceasing whiteness. White as the cherry blossoms. White like the silence that accompanied the two wayfarers.

Finally, one morning, the first mountain peaks appeared. Their road began to climb toward the sky and its purity. They were the hardest hours. Your beloved began to show signs of fatigue, but your son pretended not to, since they were no longer very far from you. Azriel found the strength to go on only because of you. The journey was coming to an end.

When your son glimpsed the place shown to him in his dream, he trembled with excitement. “Dad!” He shouted. “I found it!” The young man rushed under a rock where, in your dream, you showed yourself lying. He had a cry of surprise.

“What is it?” Azriel asked, trepidatiously. “Has Snow disappeared forever? Has there been an avalanche?”

“No.” He said then. “Far from it. She is different from how she showed herself to me. Snow is here, but her body is closer. It is two or three centimeters from the veil of ice. I can almost touch it. It's as if she has prepared for our arrival.”

You were there. You, creature so beautiful, so naked, so blond, as fragile as in the dream. You were dead. Yet you seemed alive. You were resting under the ice. And soon you would emerge from your grave.

You were not really naked. Your funambulist's dress had been so long under the ice that the weave of the fabric had become almost transparent. And your body so delicate and your skin so diaphanous seemed even more fragile. So transparent were you that your son could glimpse your sweet pregnant womb. He threw himself on all fours and scratched at the ice with his nails. Finally you were there.

Your son grabbed Azriel's hand and placed it on your face. And you, watching the scene crouching beside the two males, could almost feel your mate's gentle caress on your skin. You breathed in that touch.

“Can you feel her face? Do you feel her skin?” Azriel's hand stroked your cheek again. He was blind. But he did not need his eyes to recognize the lines of your face. And yours was so well preserved that a simple touch with his fingertips on your lips turned blue was all he needed.

“It really is her. She is my Snow. You have never lied to me.” He fell to his knees before you and wept hot tears warming your face. He could neither see nor feel you, yet you laid a hand on his shoulder. You could not feel him under your fingers. But you were fine with that. It was okay even just that. Just seeing him.

Azriel never descended from the mountain. He lay down on the ice beside you and closed his eyes.

Your son tried to talk him out of it by saying it was madness, that it was too cold to stay there. But your mate answered him in a serene voice, “Leave me alone. I have found my place. For eternity.”

He fell asleep beside your intact body, one hand resting on your womb.

He died letting the whiteness of the world overcome him. He was happy. At the height of your heart.

[silviakundera]

Are You The One very spoilery drama review

"Do you remember the archenemy I mentioned? ...Three years ago I played against (him). I lost that time. It was my first defeat in life. Strangely, I didn't feel sorrowful. Instead, I felt a kind of joy in meeting a worthy opponent. Since then, I've played against (him) several times. We're almost even. Each game is a battle of wits and courage, thrilling and intense. Rather than seeing him as an arch enemy, I consider him a close friend. I enjoy each game against (him). As long as he's my rival, the result doesn't matter."

Imagine you're a protagonist making THAT speech about his nemesis... then encountering said nemesis with injuries & amnesia, presuming this person is actually your nemesis's lover (because rumors/secret identity/sexism), and fake marrying them as a pretense to draw out and capture..... the person who is now your fake wife that you're falling in love with! Cause you were half in love with your nemesis already lmao. 🤡🤡🤡

Welcome to the set up of Are You The One, a costume drama romance with situational comedy and a dark under belly (as both ML and FL are ruthless schemers with blood on their hands).

The circumstances are inherently hilarious and the comedy revolves around the Shakespearean absurdity of the situation the characters find themselves in. This tends to be my preferred style of humor, in comparision to the comedy stylings of pratfalls, pranks, and goofy insults. Anyone who read my fanfics back in the day knows that I enjoy throwing my couples into ridiculous situations and then watching them have to deal with it in all seriousness (and fall in love in the meantime.)

Per usual for me in a narrative that's primary-romance, what matters most is that A) I understand why these 2 people match each other; B) by the time we reach the end, the otp are equal partners; C) BLOOD LUST (look I just enjoy an otp who will both stab an enemy in the gut, it is very sexy of them ok? ok)

Things that make me rabid about this drama:

At first he doesn't even register how beautiful she is, while canonically people are staring at her in the street, she's so lovely. This is because he is so fixated on this rival that he admires, who he has been battling for 3 years, that he only registers her as a pawn in their game

Very romantic & sexy to me that his connection & attraction to her build from him growing to understand her personality and admiring her qualities

Zhang Wanyi handles situational comedy tbh much better than I expected (having previously enjoyed him in a tragic role and then an angsty melo). Both Zhang Wanyi and Wang Churan very much embodied their characters, both the dark and light sides.

True enemies to lovers because he falls in love with all the qualities that he'd admired in his respected enemy: her decisiveness, her clever scheming, her loyalty, her meticulous nature. He is drawn to her as someone who is his equal and could be a true confidant - the same thing she sees in him.

By episode 7, he's started falling for her and the audience can see how it happened and why.

It was so good for me that when her memories secretly awaken, he senses this by observing, "Lately, I've always felt that there is someone who understands my thoughts, spies on my actions, and constantly leads me by the nose. Even if I gain something like today, it's because (he) made me this way. I haven't felt this way for a long time." / "When did you last have this feeling?" / "The last time was when I dealt with Lu Wen. Lu Wen should have returned."

We can also see why FL is falling for this person who lets her take charge and likes it, who enjoys her wits and starts backing her play.

The narrative structure is not just in medias res... It's truly atypical: we're dropped into this story 3 years in and because the perspective in the first third of the drama is the ML's, we share his narrow viewpoint and naturally presume that he's the protagonist hero of this tale, the morally grey but capable prince who is defending his province against bandits while fending off a royal court threatened by his military power.

But oops, what if it turns out that basically you're the sheriff of Nottingham and you've been battling Robinhood, who's actually your hot & brilliant fake-wife. And when you unknowingly captured Robinhood, it was too late -- she'd already been secretly supporting The Rightful King™ for years, and now she's a hero who helped the monarch rise to the thrown, and to an outsider you would be considered the dastardly scoundrel in this tale. 🤡

So IS he a villain? No, not really. He can coldly have his enemies killed and he certainly originally intended to kill FL, and then dispose of her bloodlessly, and then... (ANYWAY, yeah bro is Going Thru It™)

But everything he does is within the rights & privileges of his role, as ruler of the province and subject only to the emperor/empress dowager.

A man accostomed to wealth & power who was jaded and obviously just going thru the motions, fulfilling his responsibilities and resigned to being suspected by a weak ruler & conniving court, marrying a cousin who just wants his title, and protecting his borders out of duty. Until 3 years ago, when he starts battling against bandit leader Lu Wen. Now he's awake, he's excited, he has news to look forward to.

It's hilarious how he doesn't even see it in the initial episodes, the way he's accidentally moved that person in and now he's having to constantly maneuver around this person's decisive actions, and it's invigorating him. It's emotionally and mentally stimulating.

And then it's flipped where FL now has to come to the realization that life is more rewarding when she has ML to plan with, more satisfying than going it alone.

As a hater of amnesia plotlines, why didn't it repel me? 1) when we meet the character, she already has the memory loss; it's a defining trait and 2) she doesn't lose her intellgence with the memory loss and become pliant and just malleable like portrayed in other dramas - what makes the first 17 episodes a cat vs mouse cat game is that even with her memories stripped away, this person who's been told she's a merchant's sickly wife is still clever, conniving, and assertive... and we even see the willingness to get ruthless & violent if needed.

She's understandably infuriated & resentful upon regaining her memories -- such a proud & capable & independant person with big plans just manipulated for a year, tricked into giving care and affection to her enemy. But when she dismisses ML's now sincere feelings as, "What he wants to marry is not me, but the canary he has raised." ....the script has provided substantial evidence that in actuality he has a total complex about his mysterious nemesis; the real her inside, that couldn't be erased, is what he has always liked.

And then he gets the chance to prove it and finally openly express that to her.

After 17 episodes of her under the thumb of manipulation, the drama provides another 15 or so where she is in control of her own life and given the agency to decide if they could work, and she waits to be certain that ML doesn't want the canary in a cage after all. 👌 👌

I just very much appreciate dramas that show instead of tell, and earn the relationship. Convince me! The screenwriter shows their work not just on the main ship and secondary ships, but also the friendship between FL and the He merchant daughter. (The way they shift her from 'love rival' to empathizing w each other and actual friends was great - lol reminds me of Qin Zhenzhen from Princess Royal; sorry not sorry, my love rival actually likes me best now 😜)

Also also the emperor and empress slow burn ship in the 2nd arc of the drama was good stuff, I quite liked them.

Also also ALSO the main otp get 20+ minutes devoted to their (real) wedding in the final episodes. We get a proposal, marriage certificate signing, and one of the longest wedding ceremonies I've seen in a cdrama. Giving the people what they want!

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Monster from the deep

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Howard Phillips Lovecraft x GN! Reader

Description: Waters of Teyvat become dangerous. Something is destroying ships. Dottore is asked to kill the monster.

Warning: OOC. Mentions of insanity, torture, religious fanaticism, animal death. Dehumanisation (Dottore refers to Reader as 'it'). Lovecraft is soft protective yandere towards Reader. English is my second language.

A/N: , if someone was waiting for full fanfic about Self-Aware! BSD X SAGAU! Imposter crossover, here we are.

______

To: Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore

Lord Harbinger,

I swear on the greatness of All Creator, if situation didn't call for that, I won't write this letter, but, I am afraid, our nations are in a dire situation.

As you must know, another ship was destroyed. Another deal fell through. Liyue will not be able to send a shipment of minerals to Snezhnaya. We lost another ship, cargo and ship's crew.

At least, until we finally have found a survivor.

He was found on a lifeboat near Liyue's shores three weeks after the ship sink. He was dying of hunger and thirst.

And he has gone completely mad.

Sailor was starting in the distance, repeating again and again.

"Ephaiagl ah mglw'nafh. C' ah mglw'nafh."¹

At first, we thought, that he was delusional, that we could save him, if we get him in better shape.

Yet, he refused to eat or drink.

He only stared in the distance. Talking and talking.

He didn't let anyone inside his hospital room.

He became aggressive every time someone tried to peek inside.

He did come out, but, always tried to return to his room as soon as he can.

We forced him to eat and drink, to keep him alive. We gave him every medicine we could think of.

He didn't become better. And he didn't become worse.

And tragedy strikes.

All-loving Creator were visiting the hospital. Their Grace light patients' mood. They felt better, after seeing Their Holiness.

One of the patients, who was staying here with his dog, feel happy for the first time in last days, after seeing All Creator. He dog disappeared, and he was feeling terrible, but, after seeing Their Holiness, they forgot their sorrows.

And All-loving Creator met mad sailor.

For the first time in weeks, he got silent.

He was staring at Creator, unblinking and unmoving.

And he committed a sin.

He dared to attack Their Holiness.

Screaming words in the strange language.

"N'ghftdrn! ah'legeth n'ghftdrn!²"

We killed sinner.

And inside his hospital room, we found a lost dog. What remains of him.

We also found this in his room.

[Photo is attached to letter. The wall of the hospital room is covered in red letters. Words makes no sense, except ones, that are written under the red drawing of an octopus-like monster. "BRING DOTTORE TO HIM"]

Lord Harbinger, It seems, that it's the monster, that destroying ships. We have heard about your victory over Ursa the Drake. Perhaps, you could try to defeat the Sea Monster as well? Liyue will send millelith and our best sailors to assist you. It will take time, because Liyue captains refuse to go to sea, so the expedition will reach Snezhnaya by land.

Wishing for an eternal reign of All Creator.

Ningguang, The Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing

_______

Il Dottore, Second Harbinger, One of the Creator's Personal Physicians, was standing on the deck of the ship. They were in the middle of the sea, moving along the trade route from Snezhnaya to Liyue.

Everything was quiet.

No signs of a monster.

Sailors were doing their job. Fatui and millelith were on observation duty, trying to catch a sign of a monster.

Yet nothing was happening.

Dottore feel anger. The damn creature asked for him, yet, it didn't show up. Cowardly vermin.

Few months ago, after the low-live Imposter disappeared, the strange monster appeared in Teyvat waters. It attacked ships, making any sort of trades not just dangerous, but straight up impossible.

Nothing could stop that monster. And no witnesses remain.

Everytime they killed another sea monster they thought, that they finally succeed.

And, in a few days, another ship got sailed.

Mora was low, and Pantalone became angrier and angrier.

The trades became impossible, and people start loosing jobs, factories started to close down.

And, finally, they have a lead, to what they are looking for. And this thing decides to hide.

Dottore clenched his fists. Everything went to Abyss after Imposter escaped.

His thoughts were interrupted by a scream.

"Man overboard!"

______

A saved man called himself Lovecraft.

And he was strange.

A tall, gaunt man, was towering above everyone on the ship. His eyes looked bored and tried. Almost empty. He hardly talked to anyone, preferring to stay on his own.

The only time Dottore saw any kind of emotion from Lovecraft, was when Fatui soldiers, after a few drinks, were discussing The Imposter.

________

"Oh, I am so jealous of Lord Harbinger! He managed to pay a part in punishing the Imposter!" proclaimed Fatui Agent (Dottore didn't care about his name), waving a mug, that was filled to the brim with alcohol, in the air. Other Fatui and millelith solders cheered.

"Yea!"

"He showed them their place!"

"Dirty parasite, how dare they impersonate Their Holiness."

The night was full of alcohol and talks.

The agent, who started talking about the Imposter, turned towards Dottore.

"Lord Harbinger, please, tell us, how you avenge Their Holiness."

Dottore rolled his eyes. The rest of the Fatui, sailors and millelith joined Agent in asking for a story. Well, one time, he can entertain them.

Dottore put down his glass of wine, cleared his throat and start his tale.

___________________________

The Dungeon was dark and dirty.

Still, too good for a creature, that were contained here.

Dottore walked down the corridor, that leads to an isolated part of the dungeon.

In the small cell, full of torture devices, it were kept.

Exact double of Creator.

A dirty heretic.

Braces on its legs had forced it to remain in a standing position all night. Its eyes were unfocused, due to a lack of sleep and enduring intense pain.

Its lying lips and mouth were now covered in burns and blisters. Before Dottore came here, the high ranking church members came, to clean its soul by pouring boiling water in its mouth.

"Well, look at this squalor. Not so confident now, are we?" with mocking concern, asked Dottore. Sinner flinched. It strained to speak with its burned throat, as it managed to croak out a response.

"want home... to friends..."

Dottore mockingly pet its head. He grabbed the fist, full of its hair, and pull. Sinner let out a cry of pain.

"Aw! This creature has friends? Well, when we are finished with it, we will go after its friends."

Dottore let go of its hair, taking a step back. He took a metal instrument from one of the small tables in the cell.

"Let me give you something, Sinner. Nice salted water for your mouth. So you won't say even more of your heresy."

_____

The crowd roared. They were cheering for Dottore.

"Hooray for Lord Harbinger! Let Creator bless you!"

"I bet, it were crying like a dirty pig, when salted water got into its mouth. Oh, my bad. I shouldn't be rude towards pigs, by comparing it to them!"

"It got what is deserved."

Dottore scoff, pleased, with the reaction.

And he felt a gaze on him.

Howard, who was sitting in the corner, looked at him.

The look was full of hate and disgust.

Howard, suddenly, became blurry.

In the next moment, the ship was cut in half.

_______

Ground was moving up and down.

The ground felt like wood.

The night was cold.

Dottore woke up. With half-closed eyes, he tried to stand up. But the ground was still moving. And his clothes start getting wetter. He felt the scent of salt.

Dottore finally opened his eyes.

He was on the raft.

In the middle of the sea.

And no ship or other crew members were in sight.

Dottore felt anger. He wasn't sure, how he got here, but, he swears to Tsaritsa and All Loving Merciful Creator, that he will find the person, who put him here, and will destroy them.

Something swam under the raft.

And someone jumped from the water, landing next to Dottore, almost sinking the raft.

Dottore was ready to curse the idiot, who almost drowned him, when he saw it.

Lovecraft was completely wet, but, somehow, dark navy, slightly wavy hair didn't look wet at all. The dull, blank, dark gray eyes met with Dottore's red eyes.

"You hurt them." there were no emotions in this voice. The man reached towards Dottore's head. A large hand grabbed Dottore's face.

A black empty holes replaced Lovecraft eyes. Octopus tentacles squeezed around Dottore.

Dottore was afraid. His fear was strange. Like it was something, that came from his ancestors. Something, that he would feel, even he was a newborn right now.

Dottore managed to gather enough power to attack.

Yet, the attack didn't do anything.

It didn't even scratch Lovecraft.

Howard put his face near Dottore's.

"You have hurt them. And I am their friend. And I will share some nice salted water with you."

Dottore was thrown in the water.

Waves closed above his head.

____

Dottore was sinking.

And a huge, octopus-like monster were circling around him.

Huge, greenish. With countless tentacles.

Monster stared at Dottore.

It became blurry again.

It changed its looks again.

One tentacle squeezed Dottore's neck and forced him to look straight at the monster.

"Ymg' lloig ah mglw'nafh.³"

Dottore looked at the monster.

And screamed.

Seawater filled his mouth.

______

After leaving Dottore near Liyue's shores, Lovecraft start swimming to their base.

To a hidden cave, where a portal, that leads back to their new world, were located.

Lovecraft reached the cave in a matter of minutes.

He took a special trap from the water, where three kois for you were swimming.

Lovecraft stepped into the portal.

_____

You were standing near a big fish tank. You carefully observed Teyvat fish, that Lovecraft brought you every time he returned from Teyvat.

You flinch, remembering Teyvat. You didn't have physical scars, thanks to Yosano, but, you have plenty of mental scars.

You heard familiar heavy steps.

Lovecraft walked inside the room. He noticed you and walked closer. He holds the trap with fishes towards you.

"For you."

You mumble a little'thank you' and took the trap, immediately releasing fiches into the fish tank.

Then, Howard hold something else towards you.

A familiar mask.

You froze, looking at it.

"For you. I made him lose his mind. He won't hurt anyone. He will never hurt you. I won't let him."

With shaking hands, you took Dottore's mask. Tears run down your cheeks.

"Th-thank you... Howard..."

A big hand carefully cups your cheeks. Lovecraft wiped away your tears.

"Don't cry, Treasured Guiding Light. No one will hurt you. And the ones, who dared to hurt you, will pay."

____

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"He doesn't sleep. He doesn't eat. He doesn't drink. He's only howling this words, if it's even words."

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"Let's call for the All Creator. Their Holiness might help."

______

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"Someone, put a gag in his mouth! He is disturbing other patients!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"AAAAAH!!! Dear Creator! He bit my fingers off!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

"He is getting away! Lord Dottore, stop!"

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh! Ymg' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁵"

"He is attacking Creator! Stop him!"

_____

Dottore was standing in the middle of the same cell, where you were kept in back then. He was forced to stay in standing position. His red eyes were bloodshot. His mouth was covered in burns and blisters. He was staring at the wall.

His screams were filling the night. He doesn't care about burned throat. The only important thing in his life were the words he was repeating.

"Y' ahnythor ah'mglw'nafh!⁴"

______

In a real world, you were sitting next to Lovecraft.

Both of you were eating chocolate ice cream.

You leaned against Lovecraft's side.

Big hand softly pet your head.

"Y' ahnythor ymg' nnn, gokar'luh. Y' ymg' ephainnn, gokar'luh.⁶"

You smile slightly.

One day, you will heal completely.

And your friends will be with you for every moment of your recovery. And for every moment after you heal.

________

¹"Future is dead. We are dead" R'Lyehn (Cthulhu language) I was using this translator.

²"Monster! Lying monster!"

³"Your mind is dead."

⁴"I must die"

⁵"I must die! You must die!"

⁶"I must protect you, treasure. I will protect you, treasure."

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms

[itsabouttimex2]

AAAAAAA hey I'm the anon who sent that ask and I love the monsters you've picked for each character in the Monkie Glaive AU!! Sun Wukong being a Rajang immediately made me think of the other pilgrims and what sort of monsters they could be in this crossover (Rajang Sun Wukong paired with a Kirin Ao Lie is... a very angst-charged idea that would be a really interesting dynamic too, for example... Sun Wukong tapping into his lightning powers after consuming Ao Lie's horn as some sort of sacrificial last stand between sworn brothers would be a hella angsty idea...).

Also it's kind of interesting to think of how the journey would be like in this AU — Tang Sanzang would be kind of a monster tamer, in a way? Or would the journey not happen at all? He's living the dream Monstie Rider/Tamer MHS life lol

How does the main character 'Monkie Kids' squad work like in the AU (as in, MK, Mei, Pigsy, Tang & Sandy)? Are all of them human? How does Y/N get inserted into the fray?

Sorry for asking so many questions! You can delete this ask if it's too annoying ^^;

Monkie Glaive

The Pilgrims and LBD

Ok, to start off with- Wukong eating Kirin!Hybrid Ao Lie’s horn for a power-up is such a genuinely good idea that I’m actually sad I didn’t think of it myself- but I’m making it canon now because it’s too good of an idea to waste.

(Especially given it’s the second time he’d lose someone dear to him in this AU. Technically three, because he loses Macaque twice)

Also, it works even better considering that Wukong’s “final foe” in his past is the Lady Bone Demon, instead of the Demon Bull King (who remains a sort of ally)- and she definitely wasn’t the sort of person he could defeat alone.

And, unlike canon… he actually killed her.

So, what kind of monster was the Lady Bone Demon that could be so dangerous that Tang Sanzang would allow Wukong to kill her?

A Shagaru Magala- who bear with them a powerful, frenzying plague that rots the minds and bodies of whoever become infected with it.

How bad is this virulent infection? This about sums up the reaction to contracting it that any being has.

Her plot was to bathe the world in her plague and simply have the infectees destroy it after going mad. (In fact, her first victim was Macaque- twice over.)

So the Great Monk, ever compassionate and merciful… still wished to show her mercy- though, she hadn’t molted yet, and still wasn’t at the peak of her power. She was still a juvenile of her species- a Gore Magala when Sanzang made the plea to spare her.

Despite being sealed away, the Lady Bone Demon molted very soon afterwards, assuming her true aureate form- which gave her the power to break free. Then she went and tracked down the pilgrims for a final all-out fight- that had lethal consequences.

The Lady Bone Demon descends in a shower of infectious gold and black.

She makes her first attack towards the monk- which his loyal pilgrims move to intercede.

One makes it in time, and collapses in a shower of pitch dust and pained tears.

Ao Lie, infected by the Frenzy Virus and losing his mind… tearfully allows Wukong to kill him and eat his horn. So the Great Sage loses a friend to his own hands for the third time, and gains an incredible boost of power.

Sanzang, realizing that his misplaced “mercy” is in part what allowed this to happen, gives Wukong explicit permission to end the fight- fatally.

After a bloody and brutal fight, the Monk takes a moment to hold and soothe his disciple, to tend the Great Sage’s repeating sorrows and well of tears. There’s not much that can be done to calm him- Wukong just has to slowly work through the tears and agony of losing another friend.

(And Tang Sanzang probably has to talk him out of returning his staff to Ao Guang in a fit of sorrow and guilt. Wukong is not in a good headspace through this AU.)

But, unknowingly, Lie’s thunderous spirit is bound to Wukong’s body, an ever-present force that’s always trying to comfort and soothe the simian- not that he can communicate or interact with him directly. He’s just there, hoping that one day Wukong will forgive himself for what’s happened.

———————————————————————-

Tang Sanzang himself is the world’s very first Rider, actually! Instead of beasts, Sanzang treats his disciples as though they were his very own children- which is why they all adore him so much.

He’s especially doting to Sun Wukong, who is very much in a nasty downwards spiral and in need of rehabilitation and therapy. He rarely uses the circlet (which Wukong put on himself and frequently used to self-harm), but acknowledges the need to reign in the simian’s worst aspects.

Sha Wujing is a Lagiacrus, actually! I didn’t necessarily want to add a second thunder element to the gang, but… come on! He’s blue and orange! He’s big and mean! He’s a watery fella! It had to be this Leviathan! I’ll just have him not have access to the lightning element to balance things out.

(But I also seriously considered making him a Coral Pukei Pukei)

It also allows him to be a “big, scary-looking monster that would inspire fear in those around him.

And for Zhu Bajie, I think he’s quite appropriate as a Mosswine- though I had considered making the demon a Poogie! I think being the lazy and gluttonous individual that he is, Bajie might be the sort to lay still for so long that moss grows across his back.

Also, Wukong slowly picking through the moss for bugs? Getting to do a harmless little “simian” thing and engaging in healthy skinship? It’s so good for him.

And, as offered by the incredible commenter above… Ao Lie is a Kirin. I imagine he’s the monster that Sanzang most frequently rides, given his docile nature and placid attitude. He’s still quite clumsy in his human form, but now trip-ups tend to result in Lie sparking off and inadvertently putting quite the light show.

He’s a little insecure about maybe not living up to the majesty and grace that his kind are known for, honestly. And, right up until the very end- Lie is quite nervous about being around Wukong.

(I’ll make a separate post later for the Monkie Kids, just so I don’t clog this up!)

[vienna-salvatori]

I just finished the silt verses (absolutely amazing, my heart is broken) and uh. well.

y'know how the episode titles make a poem?

It fits really well if you think it's Paige saying it, around the same time as the closing narration of the final episode. The sentiment matches VERY WELL with her approach to the Wound Tree, and what she's expecting to happen afterwards.

Evidence below the cut

Here's the poem, in full. Particularly relevant lines are bold.

Let me speak first of revelations/ and next of dark deceit Then I'll speak of champions/ of lovers, gods, and beasts My song is long and twisted/ it winds, it worms, it wends It carries few, it drowns many/ and those I love, it rends My song has taken hold of me/ it grips my tongue, my throat My voice cries truths I never knew/ and to fight is just to choke So let me dwell eternal/ and in ruined flesh ascend For my song has no beginning/ and the current flows on without end If I could trace with bloodless fingers/ If my hands could shape the flow I'd bear this song to the precipice/ and rend us both to dust below We'd both go plunging downwards/ One final fall from grace I'd howl, I'd scream, in victory/ And we'd be gone without a trace But we'll never be rid of each other/ my song, my sorrow, and I So I'll bear it trembling onwards/ to drift on, to dream, to die And where my final footsteps fall/ something dreadful shall arise Its gaze shall fall o'er trembling plains/ its wrath shall scald the sun And where once its howling forebears walked/ some day there shall be none The wise man knows the taste of rot/ all lovers part as dust And even the kings in their bowers of steel/ shall wither in ruin and rust This rotten world shall wheeze its last/ this hateful hymn shall cease But as my last breath splits my throat/ I'll wheeze through splintered teeth One last song of revelations/ of prophets' dark deceptions Of love, and gods' defeat Of love, and gods' defeat

and those I love, it rends: Pretty self explanatory. Paige has no idea what actually killed Shrue, Hayward, or Carpenter. Or Faulkner, for that matter... but she knows Shrue was killed while uttering the prayer-marks of their god, so assuming she was hallowed by it is a pretty reasonable guess. She knows Hayward martyred himself to buy her time. Her god already claimed her father's life, and as far as she knows, probably took Hayward at a minimum too. Even if they weren't claimed by it directly, they still died in service to, or as a result of, the cause of the god she decided to champion.

So let me dwell eternal/ and in ruined flesh ascend: "ascend" very much brings to mind sainthood or hallowing, and there are VERY few people who would talk like they're a) expecting that to happen and b) are actually pretty unbothered by the concept. Paige knows she's doomed, and she's come to accept that.

But we'll never be rid of each other: Acantha/The Cairn Maiden explicitly confirms this in chapter 41: Paige won't be free of her god, in either life or death.

And where my final footsteps fall/ something dreadful shall arise Its gaze shall fall o'er trembling plains/ its wrath shall scald the sun And where once its howling forebears walked/ some day there shall be none and This rotten world shall wheeze its last/ this hateful hymn shall cease Paige's conversation with The Cairn Maiden pretty much confirms this, too. She knows: a) Paige's own death is coming. She already has plants growing out of her own body, her transformation is not really in doubt at this point. b) the wound tree is already starving, and raging against the world as it does so- Paige, as its prophet, has a front-row seat to this. The Cairn Maiden confirms that this is common behaviour for a dying god. c) All gods die. All gods will die, in the end, and Paige's movement will be a part of that. d) The Cairn Maiden was waiting for the god-winds to die down. They did, in the finale, thanks to Val.

So: Paige knows her ending is here, on the now-silent plains. She knows her god is dying already, and she has set the plans in motion to make sure it does die. She will transform, and it will rage, but eventually- eventually- it will die, and so will all the other gods.

Howling forebears, splintered teeth- a minor point, here, but the word choice is specific: "howling forebears" is clearly a reference to the god-winds, now quieted in the Grace and blowing elsewhere. "Splintered teeth" is interesting because Paige mentions "broken teeth" as one of the features of her inevitable transformation in her closing narration. We also get "trembling plains" in the poem, and while I think the only reference to this area as "plains" is in the transcript, it does fit with the environment.

Obviously the poem is about the Silt Verses as a whole, too- the Carpenter and Faulkner relationship is evident in the titles as well- but if this thing exists in universe, I'm pretty damn sure that Paige is the one reciting it.

[st4rr-girrl]

Cheater

Summary; you have been expecting this for a long time. Though it still hurts when you find out your suspicions were true.

Pt 2

[sad/shitty ending]

Cheater! Draco x fem! Reader

Warnings; cussing, angst, break up

Now playing: apocalypse- cigarettes after sex

You didn’t even flinch as you stared at Draco. His disheveled form, on top of Astoria. You frowned, shaking your head. You had been expecting nothing less than this. Though your expectance, it didn’t stop the pain you felt squeezing your heart.

Draco turned around, surprised at your presence. Panic spread across his face like wildfire as his mouth tripped over words, hastily in search of a sorrow-filled excuse. Regret swirled behind his grey irises. Astoria smirked at you, an unapologetic expression displayed across the pale skin of her face.

“Save it.” You spat. Squinting, and clenching your jaw as salty tears filled your eyes and blurred your vision. You turned around quickly, running to the slytherin common room. The tears flowed down like a waterfall, as you ran to Pansy’s dorm. You bursted through the door, interrupting whatever activities her and her boyfriend, Blaise, were doing.

You sobbed out loudly, jumping into your concerned best friends arms. “What happened, hunny?” She asked as you stained her shirt with tears.

You tried telling her what happened, but all you could muster out was a weak “Draco…” she immediately knew what you meant. “Aw, my love.” She cooed. Blaise looked unamused. He may be close to Draco but he’s definitely going to lecture him about what he did to you.

You knew this was going to happen. You were 100% positive it was going to happen. But it still hurt. You really loved him. But you just weren’t surprised.

“Draco?! Where have you been? I was worried.” You furrowed your brows, as Draco finally entered his dorm room.

“I was out with a friend, Y/n. Chill out.” Draco rolled his eyes, walking past you. He smelt of another girl’s perfume. The scent was so strong, that it made your nose burn. You winced, and stared at the blonde boy. “Whatever Draco. I’m going to my dorm. Good night.” Tears welled up in your eyes. You just felt so defeated and helpless. “Night.” He said, leading you to the dorm door and hurrying you out.

Tears blurred your vision as you walked back to your dorm room. You layed in bed, tears streaming down your face, and tried falling asleep, trying to console yourself by repeatedly humming a well known tune.

-

“I’ll be right back.” Draco said, leaving you stranded at the Yule ball. “K” you mumbled, upset as you saw him leave, Astoria following a minute later.

You bit your lip, holding back the tears that welled in your e/c irises. You scanned the dancing bodies for Pansy, seeing her and Blaise slow dancing romantically. There was nothing in their eyes but pure love, and a little bit of lust. That’s how you and Draco used to look at one another. Until Astoria came into the perfectly painted picture, ruining the silhouettes dancing romantically and turned them against each other.

You despised her for what she did. She doesn’t love him. She just hates you and is using Draco against you to get under your skin.

-

A few days had passed, and you were still avoiding Draco no matter how many attempts he made a day to talk to you. You wanted to forgive him, you wanted to be with him again. But you have to protect your heart. Somewhere deep inside of you, wants to be with him— belongs with him. You wanna run back to your little picture the two of you had; but you knew, if you did that he would just cheat again.

You walked down the hall hurriedly, as Draco followed closely behind while shouting your name.

You walked to a secluded hallway, and noticed nobody around.

Whipping around, your face felt hot. An anger bubbled inside of your chest as you screamed at him. “What do you want from me!?”

Draco looked hopeful, glad that you didn’t ignore him this time.

“Nothing you say or do can take away what you did. You broke my heart, Malfoy. And I wanna watch when she does the same thing to you. Because trust me; she will. She doesn’t love you. She just wants to make me upset. But in the end, you’re the one that’ll pay for it.” You squinted at the boy, walking past him as fast as you could, making sure to bump into his shoulder.

And just like that; it was over. He stopped chasing after you, and even considered leaving Astoria.

You two were out of each others lives. Forever.

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

September 20th

I opened today’s entry thinking I knew what to expect, but apparently I did not:

Report from Patrick Hennessey, M. D., M. R. C. S. L. K. Q. C. P. I., etc., etc., to John Seward, M. D.

A bit of humour in the darkest of nights. And what a power move! I love that even minor characters are given such vivid personalities!

With regard to patient, Renfield, there is more to say. He has had another outbreak, which might have had a dreadful ending, but which, as it fortunately happened, was unattended with any unhappy results.

This is what I mean! Look how this man writes. Completely redundant. He has a unique “voice” and I love it!

I went down to see if I could make out any cause for his anger, since he is usually such a well-behaved man, and except his violent fits nothing of the kind had ever occurred.

I’m starting to think every staff member has a death wish.

It was, I am sorry to say, however, only another instance of his cunning, for within half an hour I heard of him again. This time he had broken out through the window of his room, and was running down the avenue. I called to the attendants to follow me, and ran after him, for I feared he was intent on some mischief.

YA THINK?????

Also, what was I saying about safety protocols the other day?

The other fellow jumped down and struck him over the head with the butt-end of his heavy whip. It was a terrible blow; but he did not seem to mind it, but seized him also, and struggled with the three of us, pulling us to and fro as if we were kittens. You know I am no light weight, and the others were both burly men.

IT’S WORKING!!!!! The DYI vampirism is working!!! Mark me down as scared and strangely proud.

The two carriers were at first loud in their threats of actions for damages, and promised to rain all the penalties of the law on us. Their threats were, however, mingled with some sort of indirect apology for the defeat of the two of them by a feeble madman. They said that if it had not been for the way their strength had been spent in carrying and raising the heavy boxes to the cart they would have made short work of him. They gave as another reason for their defeat the extraordinary state of drouth to which they had been reduced by the dusty nature of their occupation and the reprehensible distance from the scene of their labours of any place of public entertainment. I quite understood their drift, and after a stiff glass of grog, or rather more of the same, and with each a sovereign in hand, they made light of the attack, and swore that they would encounter a worse madman any day for the pleasure of meeting so 'bloomin' good a bloke' as your correspondent. I took their names and addresses, in case they might be needed.

Efficient crisis management. Have a sticker 🦇

Now onto the regularly scheduled horrors…

Only resolution and habit can let me make an entry to-night. I am too miserable, too low-spirited, too sick of the world and all in it, including life itself, that I would not care if I heard this moment the flapping of the wings of the angel of death.

About that —

And he has been flapping those grim wings to some purpose of late—Lucy's mother and Arthur's father, and now.... Let me get on with my work.

Oh so it’s official! Arthur’s father has passed! What a month!

Van Helsing was very kind to him. "Come, my child," he said; "come with me. You are sick and weak, and have had much sorrow and much mental pain, as well as that tax on your strength that we know of. You must not be alone; for to be alone is to be full of fears and alarms. Come to the drawing-room, where there is a big fire, and there are two sofas. You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do not speak, and even if we sleep."

That is very sweet.

There was a full moonlight, and I could see that the noise was made by a great bat, which wheeled round—doubtless attracted by the light, although so dim—and every now and again struck the window with its wings.

Hold on hold on hold on. I think Jack might be on to something here.

So far, we’ve seen Dracula target Jonathan and Lucy specifically and relentlessly. Yes, he also attacked the crew of the Demeter, but that was out of necessity (being stuck in the middle of the ocean with no other source of food) rather than choice; and he doesn’t want to feed on Renfield, who is older and “feeble” both physically and mentally.

So he is attracted to the light, metaphorically: to young people who are full of life and love. Because that’s what he lacks. Argh.

It was certainly odd that whenever she got into that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers from her; but that when she waked she clutched them close.

🥺😔

"She is dying. It will not be long now. It will be much difference, mark me, whether she dies conscious or in her sleep. Wake that poor boy, and let him come and see the last; he trusts us, and we have promised him." […]

When we came into Lucy's room I could see that Van Helsing had, with his usual forethought, been putting matters straight and making everything look as pleasing as possible. He had even brushed Lucy's hair, so that it lay on the pillow in its usual sunny ripples. When we came into the room she opened her eyes, and seeing him, whispered softly:—

"Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come!" He was stooping to kiss her, when Van Helsing motioned him back. "No," he whispered, "not yet! Hold her hand; it will comfort her more."

Say what you want about Van Helsing (SISTER), he’s showing incredible amounts of compassion in this chapter.

In a sort of sleep-waking, vague, unconscious way she opened her eyes, which were now dull and hard at once, and said in a soft, voluptuous voice, such as I had never heard from her lips:—

"Arthur! Oh, my love, I am so glad you have come! Kiss me!" Arthur bent eagerly over to kiss her; but at that instant Van Helsing, who, like me, had been startled by her voice, swooped upon him, and catching him by the neck with both hands, dragged him back with a fury of strength which I never thought he could have possessed, and actually hurled him almost across the room.

"Not for your life!" he said; "not for your living soul and hers!" And he stood between them like a lion at bay.

The next few entries are going to be fun.

Their eyes met instead of their lips; and so they parted.

Ouch.

"Ah, well, poor girl, there is peace for her at last. It is the end!"

He turned to me, and said with grave solemnity:—

"Not so; alas! not so. It is only the beginning!"

When I asked him what he meant, he only shook his head and answered:—

"We can do nothing as yet. Wait and see."

A heads up would be nice!!!

< Prev 🦇 Next >

[tsunael]

— Headcanon

About an Au Ra's horns, and Tsuna's loss thereof:

I imagine an Au Ra's horns carry great cultural significance for them, and that significance would vary based on both region and clan. Though, for every Au Ra their horns are a source of pride: they determine when one comes of age, and grow with them until the day that they die (as sourced by the long horns the elder models have).

Word of God says they are are able to break and will regrow. I like to think that the Xaela would view losing a horn as a positive (tribe depending)-- it means they fought well and lived to see another day. Something akin to a battle scar.

For Raen, it is a great shame. They lost a part of their identity and a part of their heritage. It means they did not fight hard enough-- stemming from when they were taken in by the warlords of Othard purely for their fighting prowess.

For Tsuna, losing one of her horns to Zenos at the end of the final battle was a great blow to her mentality. She inherited her horn shape from her mother, and the loss of them makes the loss of her mother feel twofold. For a time, she experiences vertigo until her other horn is forced to be culled to match its twin.

However, with loss there gives rise to new beginnings. There's some symbolism of her outward-facing horns being broken in that she is finally able to accept love and take it for herself. Tsuna has always had a Hedgehog's Dilemma-- in every sense of the word. This is simply a physical way of breaking down her offense.

Basically... intimacy was near impossible before, and now she can smooch anything she wants. 'Once, she abstained, and now she devours' and all that. It also begins her journey of reflection of her culture and where she stands in it, and the slow process of undoing the harsh stigma that she was raised with. As a Raen, I also feel that there's a lot to say on her view of being a diaspora, but I'm not qualified to write that out at the moment.

[biggestxsimps]

Nightmares

Ominis Gaunt x Male Reader

A/N: It's been a minute since I've written for Omi, I think I've made him act a little more canon than in my other fics, not too sure though.

You were seated in your bed, pillow rested behind your back and your duvet brung up to your midsection. You were enthralled by the words, your eyes glancing through the yellow-tinted pages. One of your hands propped up the leather book, as the other held your wand over it, a dim light projecting from the tip, so as to not disturb any of your dorm-mates.

You had no idea how long you had had your nose in the book for, but definitely long enough for all the other students to have completely passed out. You didn’t mind staying up late, or at least you didn’t care tonight. You had no classes until late in the day, and could afford to sleep in.

Your attention gets drawn away by the sound of cloth moving beside you, you pay it no mind, thinking one of the others must just be shuffling in their sleep. That was, until you heard a gasp and the creaks of the bed. You turn to your side to see Ominis sat up and wand already in his hands, ready to defend himself.

As he becomes less jittery and seems to relax back into a more comfortable seated position, you speak up. “Are you alright, Ominis?” It comes out hushed, only for him to hear. He perks up at the sound of your voice, turning his head in your direction, looking very tired and sorrowful as he responds. “I’m alright, Y/N, Thank you. Apologies for disrupting your rest.” He sighs as guilt washes over him.

You lightheartedly smile. “No need to apologise Ominis, you didn’t wake me.” He nods as he makes a noise of understanding. It remains silent from there, you go back to reading as Ominis tries to convince himself to fall asleep again. After a few minutes you hear a frustrated sigh, you turn back to Ominis, watching as he digs his head into his hands. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ominis?”

He lifts his head up, not saying a word as he ashamedly shakes his head. You think for a moment before asking him, hoping you wouldn’t be pushing too far. “Would you like some help? I could try to distract you.” The blond boy lightly smiles as he accepts your offer. “Would you like me to stay here or c-” “Please, come here.” His voice comes out defeated as he moves to the opposite side of his bed.

You quickly shuffle to his bed, trying your hardest to not make too much noise. Once you make it, you slowly hold up the sheets as you quietly slip into the covers. “Alright.” You whisper to yourself. You feel a hand moving against the sheets near your own, you lightly graze your hand against his, him taking it after moving his head to face anywhere but towards you.

His hand felt clampy and he held a tight grip, your thumb rubbed over his fingers as you gently pulled the both of you onto your backs. As Ominis rested against the pillow, he turned in your direction, looking down. You shifted a little closer to him, also turning his way, before muttering. “How can I help you, Ominis?” He takes a deep breath as he pulls your arm closer to him.

“This is- This is fine, Thank you.” You nod as you start to relax, your eyes drifting closed. As you feel yourself begin to drift, a voice brings you back. “Sorry, would it be a bother if you spoke to me? It’s so eerily silent and all I can hear is-” He cuts himself off before he finishes, quietly clearing his throat.

You choose not to ask about what he’s worried about. “Not at all.” You feel Ominis loosen up as he rests against you. It takes you a minute to think about what to say, you smile as an idea pops into your mind. The soft words soon fall out of your mouth, you tell him about the adventures you’ve been on. Obviously only the ones he wouldn’t tell you off for doing.

You speak of all the people (and creatures) you had saved, all the items you had found and all the beautiful things you had witnessed. It wasn’t long until the sound of light snoring was heard and felt on the side of your body. You muster a small smile before whispering. “Goodnight Ominis, rest well.”

A/N: I've got a couple more posts that should be coming out soon, including the Part 2 to the most recent Simon Riley fic!

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

hello dear I hope you are fine , can you please write Ichigo x reader , Reader and Ichigo are best friends and Reader is an alternative Soul Reaper like him and she is extremely powerful like Ichigo She loves Ichigo but knows that he has a crush on Orihime, during a fight yhwach They and Aizen were able to defeat him, but before he died yhwach kill reader and she dies. I hope you write the reaction of others as well, especially Rukia upon hearing the death of her best friend

I apologize for my long request, and I also like your page very much. I always encourage you

Hello!

Thank you for requesting!

I am doing ok, with another tendinitis issue ( that's why requests are slow , sorry :c) how about you?

I truly appreciate your support! Thank you so much <3 and don't worry about long requests!

I hope this is of your liking! Please let me know what you think!

TW: Death mention, injury, blood mention.

Tsuki's Note: I did not read the manga so this might be a bit bs-tery! Sorry!

Tsuki's Note 2: I hope i remembered everyone?

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

This was the final battle against the Quincy's. The battle against their king. You were a very powerful Shinigami despite being only a substitute shinigami. You have been to so many battle with your friends and crush, Ichigo.

You two always battled side by side. You were a great duo and each and every fight made you fall harder for him. But you knew this was an unrequired loved - he loved Orihime - the man himself has admitted that to you.

You cannot lie this broke your heart, but you also knew - like many others- Orihime also liked him, so he had a big chance and you rooted for them.

At this time, once again, you were sid by side with ichigo and.. well, Aizen. Despite everything you needed his help to defeat Yhwach. The fight was tough, there were several moments you thought you would lose.

That thought became true, for you at least. At some point, the three of you were sent blasting away by Yhwach. While you blinked away the fogginess of your eyes, you heard and saw Yhwach silhouete aiming an arrow at the body next to you.

You could feel the reiatsu of the man next you belong to Ichigo, he wouldn't be able to dodge it or to defend it. So you moved. You moved by instinct.

You shielded Ichigo being hit yourself, you could see his despair in his eyes and hear his sorrow by how he yelled your name. You took a deep breath and smiled:

"You fool! What are you sitting there for? Move! Go catch him! I will be fine!"

The man didn't even try to argue with you, you were right he had to move. But as he passed by you, Ichigo whispered:

"If you die i will kill you, got it?"

You laughed. But you did not answer him, you knew were not gonna make it - your liver was injured, it was matter of minutes until you died.

You could not let Ichigo know, so you did your best to attack long range for as long you could. Until your vision turned black, the world became quiet, every presence faded. All you could see was the immense white ahead.

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

When the battle was over and Aizen was arrested, again, a sense of relief reached everyone. Ichigo went looking for you, the place where he could last feel your presence. Upon arriving there he called for you, once... twice... thrice.... nothing.

He started yelling desperately. At this point Chad, Rukia, Renji, Yoruichi and Ishida came to help looking for you. The one who found you was Rukia. She called the boys and Orihime. asking her to heal you.

Orihime tried once, but failed. She tried again and yet, nothing. On her third attempt she was stopped by Yoruichi. It was no use, you were long gone.

Ichigo fell to his knees next to you. His expression was blank, Orihime and Rukia started crying and were comforted by Yoruichi and a devastated Renji.

Chad placed a trembling hand to Ichigo's shoulder and Ishida fell silent, regret and sorrow flashing on his face.

Yoruichi carried your body back to Soul Society so you could have burial.

All of your friends were upset by your loss, some were numb than others - this war took many lives. But Ichigo took it harder. You were his best friend, his partner in crime, the one to fight with him through and through and now a piece of him was gone.

It took him several days to recover from your loss. Sometimes, when they were all hanging out he would call out your name if you were not coming along, only to turn and see nobody, no answer.

Every anniversary of your death, he would bring your favourite snack to your grave and update you on his life events. He did this every year until the end.

Rukia still remembered how brave and courageous you were. She kept all the kind others you have said to her, close to her heart.

Whenever she visited you, she would bring a ribbon. Each time a different color.

Renji also held close all the fights you fought together. How strong you were.

He visited your grave with Rukia and would whisper some old memories of you then.

Orihime also took a long time to recover from the loss. But she noticed she had to toughen up a bit for Ichigo. She still packed extra food for you every now and then.

She visited your grave alone, because Ichigo liked to go alone, she respected that. She would leave a sweet for you and update you on her life. Ask you Advices just like she did when you were alive.

Chad was also greatly affected. He Kept mostly to himself, but he was oddly quiet.

Whenever he visited your grave he took the time to clean it thoroughly. He leaved it squeaky clean.

Ishida felt a lot of guilt. He felt like it was partially his fault, even if everyone told him he could not have possibly foreseen this. It took him a long time to come to terms with your death, but he eventually accepted it was not his fault.

Whenever he visited you, He would briefly talk to you and update about everyone and just a bit about himself. At first he apologized to you over and over, but with time that was replaced by reassurance - he would let you know if everyone was really happy or not.

You passed away holding the secret of the unriqueried loved.

You never told anyone and you tried your best to hide it.

You were gone hoping your friends would live a happy, long life.

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

Thank you for reading!

I hope this was of your liking!

[beeandheroddobsessions]

On Bended Knee

Summary: Y/N is on their last leg with Elvis.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Mentions of the colonel, mentions of pills. Mm sad Elvis. Lmk if I missed any!

A/N: I was in the middle of an assignment and this song came on and I had to get this down before I forgot it.

You stare at the mess you’ve made in awe. There are broken dishes, smashed vases; pictures snatched out of the frames, just a mess.

Looking around, you wonder how things had gotten this bad. How a love, once sweet and warm, could grow into something so cold and bitter.

You look toward the bearer of your sorrows; anger graces his features, yet defeat is painted over yours.

His chest is heaving, and his fists are clenched at his sides. He’s waiting for your next move, wondering what’ll come flying in his direction next.

Frankly, you’re exhausted. Between the girls, the drugs, and that slime-ball Elvis calls his manager; you feel like you no longer have a place in his life.

“I’m done…I can’t do this anymore.” It comes out so soft, barely above a whisper. So quiet, you aren’t even sure that you said it.

Elvis is certain you’ve misspoken. Never once have you threatened to leave him. The anger flowing through his body dissipates and is replaced with concern.

In two quick strides, he’s looming over you, cupping your face. “Look at me, baby,” he pleads. You know better than to listen. If you do, you’ll be right back where you started.

“Damnit, I said, look at me!” He booms. Like a child, you do as you’re told, slowly shifting your eyes from that oh-so-interesting spot on the floor to his cerulean eyes.

When your eyes meet, he searches for any indication of a bluff, something that’ll tell him you’re still his, that you aren’t serious.

He doesn’t find it. “Let go, Elvis,” you mutter. The hands cradling your face fall to his sides.

The sound of glass crunching under your feet as you turn toward the door is enough to make you wince. “Satnin, please…” You shake your head. “Elvis, you-“

“It ain’t fuckin Elvis! El, Elvie, Vis, sweetness, loverboy, any one of ‘em will do. You ain’t c-called me Elvis in t-ten goddamn years.”

His voice wavers, and you can’t help the way your head snaps in his direction. You find a broken man resting on his knees, hands in his hair, with tears streaming down his face.

Your feet move before you tell them to; his arms wrap around your legs as sobs rack through his body. “I’m gon fix it satnin, I promise. If this is bout the colonel…I-I’m gon fire him a-and it’ll be jus’ you an me. We’ll go wherever ya want. Any state outta the fifty. Ya jus’ can’t leave me baby. Please.”

You run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. “El, you need more help than I can give you right now. It ain’t just him, baby. What about the pills and-”

he flies out of your arms, hiccuping as he makes his way to the bathroom. You hear rattling and run after him, scared of what he could be doing.

You peek in and find him dumping pills everywhere. Some in the sink under running water, some Into the shower drain, most into the toilet.He doesn’t stop until every last bottle is empty. When he finishes, he turns his attention to you. “Y/N, I’ll do anything ya ask. Jus’, please, don’t leave.” You can tell he’s serious.

You don’t say a word as you step forward, arms wrapping around his waist. He melts into you, gripping you tight like you’d vanish if he didn’t.

“I-I’m so sorry.” He cries out. You hold on just as tight “Thick and thin, baby, thick and thin. It’s gon be okay, El; we’ll figure this out.”

He just nods his head, thanking every star in the sky that you changed your mind.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Silver Dorm Uniform Personal Story: Part 3

"I feel uneasy."

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3

[Courtyard]

Silver: We've reached the courtyard, Sebek. So, what should I do now?

Sebek: Nothing special. We'll simply train as usual.

Sebek: So prepare yourself, already. Here I come― Hiyah!

Silver: …!

[clang!]

Silver: I didn't expect you to come at me before I was fully prepared.

Sebek: Humph, you say that as if you didn't just parry my attack with ease.

Silver: I've had training to deal with surprise attacks, after all.

Silver: Then this time, I'll come at you… Hah!

Sebek: Urk…!

Heartslabyul Student: Woah, what's all that? Is it a fight?

Savanaclaw Student: Looks like something fun is happening. Let's get a closer look!

[Classroom]

Classmate A: Hm? There's a bunch of people gathering in the courtyard. What's everyone looking at… Eh, Silver!?

Classmate B: What's he doing? Let's go check it out!

[Courtyard]

Silver: After you've defended with your baton, your strike towards my legs is too slow! Do you truly believe you can defeat me like that!

Sebek: Urgh… I'M NOT FINISHED YET!

[clank!]

Silver: …!

Sebek: How was that, I just sent your baton flying!

Silver: Nice. You put your full weight behind that attack, holding your baton with both hands.

Silver: Hahah…! Sebek, that was pretty great.

Silver: I can see the results of your daily training.

Sebek: Obviously. Before long, I'll grow beyond your own abilities, just watch.

Silver: You're right. We must grow stronger…

Silver: Now let us continue!

Classmate A: Oh, that perpetually expressionless Silver just smiled…

Classmate B: I super wasn't expecting him to shout so enthusiastically while looking after his underclassmen like that...

Classmate C: Like, usually he's so cool and collected, but he's completely different! That Silver right now is…

Lilia: ―Kufufu, he's as hot-blooded as ever!

Classmate A/B/C: EH!?

Classmate A: That's Vangrouge-senpai over there… And… Malleus Draconia-senpai too!!

Malleus: Oho, so they've chosen there to train today. As always, Silver looks quite fierce while training.

Lilia: That just shows how seriously he takes it. Kufufu, nevertheless, he's got a good smile on his face.

Lilia: He seems to be just as elated to see the growth of his fellow disciple as he would his own.

Malleus: Indeed. Silver is someone who can easily empathize with the joys and sorrows of others, after all.

Lilia: Yep, he hides his fiery passion well under that poker face of his.

Malleus: Rather than say he hides it, I would say he simply cannot show those feelings on his face.

Lilia: I suppose you could say that. It's easy for us to see it, however.

Classmate A/B/C: …

Classmate B: So basically… Silver has proper feelings too, then?

Classmate C: I guess we were just misunderstanding him…

Silver: [pant, pant] …It's starting to get dark. We should conclude our training here for today.

Sebek: [pant] …Yeah, you're right.

Classmate A: Heeey, Silver!

Silver: Hm?

Classmate B: You get rather heated up when you're training, huh! That was pretty cool, awesome job!

Classmate C: Yeah, see you tomorrow!

Silver: …? Right, see you tomorrow.

Sebek: Looked like they were watching our training. Are they your classmates?

Silver: Yes, but…

Sebek: What is it, if there is something bothering you, speak up.

Silver: They were the ones I troubled in class.

Silver: I never expected them to call out to me like that.

Sebek: I see, so they were the ones you were talking about.

Sebek: Heh! I thought that if they all saw you while you were training, they wouldn't be able to say you're expressionless…

Sebek: HAAHAHAHAH! BASED ON THEIR REACTIONS, IT SEEMS MY PLAN WAS A SUCCESS!

Silver: Your plan? Was that your intention when you suggested training in the courtyard?

Sebek: You fool, did you only realize now?

Sebek: If anyone appears before you, throwing around nonsensical accusations like they did this time, you just need to show them your true abilities.

Sebek: And then you force them into submission, to the point where they can't possibly keep complaining!

Sebek: For the most part, you're not equipped to think too hard, so if you have the time to do that, you should train your body instead.

Silver: I do not appreciate how you're speaking to me there, but…

Silver: What you're saying is that there's no reason for me to change?

Sebek: Humph, I was only showing you that it's ridiculous to bend yourself to the nonsensical whims of others.

Silver: …I see.

Silver: Thank you, Sebek. I feel much better because of you.

Sebek: There's no reason to thank me. This is all for the sake of the Young Master!

Silver: I know.

Silver: Yet still… I am very thankful for what you did today.

(Part 1) (Part 2) Part 3