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iveleftitwithyou · 10 months ago

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ruderal pt. 1 | paul lahote x reader

hi everyone! this is my first ever twilight imagine (and the first fanfic i've written in like 5 years) and it's already looking like it will be somewhat of a series. would love to hear your feedback (good or bad) on this, or if you want a second part :)

word count: 1.1k | based off a random writing prompt generator

you never know who you’ll run into at a funeral - or, in this case, the reception.

the church gymnasium was full of Forks residents, gathered to celebrate the life of Deborah Lewin. she worked as a teacher in the town for 30 years, long enough to teach the kin of some of her first classes of students. so, it wasn’t a surprise that the echoey cinderblock room was nearly full of people.

you were seated at a table towards the middle of the space, sharing it with some of your friends who you’d had class with back when you had Mrs. Lewin as a teacher. you gazed out upon the sea of figures dressed in black, taking a mental inventory of all of the familiar faces in the room, when you spotted a face you didn’t expect to see entering the door.

“oh my god” you winced, averting your gaze and lowering your head immediately before you had the chance to be spotted.

“what?” your friend Ruby said, slightly panicked at your sudden, albeit quiet, outburst.

“Paul’s here.” you deadpanned, planning your escape as you spoke.

“Paul Lahote?” you hadn’t seen him in years, since he broke up with you over the phone for seemingly no reason on a random wednesday night.

“what other Paul could it be?” it came out harsher than you intended, but right now, you couldn’t seem to care that much.

of course, you looked up at the exact wrong time - Paul was looking at you from across the room. he stood in the food line next to Jacob Black, holding a ladle full of potato salad in one hand and a paper plate in the other.

before you could even really recognize that he was, in fact, staring at you, the two of you made direct eye contact. in the split second before you instinctually looked away, you could have sworn you saw Paul’s face twitch into the same shocked expression that you wore on your face as you watched him walk in the room just a few minutes ago. however, there seemed to be something more behind his eyes, too; you couldn’t tell if it was fear, or pain, or sorrow, but there was something else there.

“do you want to leave?” Ruby’s words snapped you out of your small trance.

“no, i’m not here for me. i’m here for Mrs. Lewin. Paul’s not important enough for me to need to leave.” your words were unconvincing, even to yourself. you’d never truly moved on, never forgiven Paul for what he had done. he couldn’t even explain why - he just kept repeating that it was “for your own good” and “you’d be better off without him.” it stung that he would be willing to throw away nearly a year of time spent together, and to not even dignify you with doing it in person?

“i think i’m going to step outside for a second. it’s really hot in here and this sweater is not helping.” you tugged at the collar of your thick turtleneck. it was normally one of your favorites, but the mixture of anxiety and embarrassment bringing your body temperature up was enough for you to want to rip it off of your body as soon as humanly possible.

Ruby nodded, eyeing you suspiciously but recognizing that asking any questions right now would be entirely unproductive. the redhead turned back to your other friends, starting to tell the story of when Tyler Jackson broke her arm under the slide in kindergarten.

the cold, damp air brought you back to a somewhat normal headspace as you stepped outside. it was times like these, standing under an awning, watching the rain fall on the trees and the parked cars in front of you, that you wished you smoked cigarettes. you bet that it would help calm your nerves even more; to distract you from the feelings that had been stirred up tonight.

but, you had none, so you opted to take deep breaths in and out instead. your eyes closed and you slid down the wall, planting yourself cross-legged on the concrete. after a few minutes of meditative breathing and counting the raindrops that dripped onto the shrubbery in front of you, you heard the old church door creak open.

“y/n?” a small, deep voice asked. you still had not looked up from the shrubs, but you knew that voice anywhere. this time, though, it sounded different. weaker.

“what do you want, Paul?” your tone was laced with annoyance. despite whatever feelings you had remaining for him, he was probably the last person you wanted to talk to right now.

“can i sit with you?” he asked, taking a small step forward. he waited for your gentle nod before awkwardly parking himself next to you, but not too close. you were grateful for the space that remained, already regretting your split-second decision to allow him to join you.

“now will you tell me what you want? why you’re even bothering to speak to me?”

“i miss you.” he sighed. you could see him rubbing his temples with his impressively large hand, eyes covered and a slight wince on his face as he waited for your reaction.

“you miss me? you fucking miss me? go to hell, Paul. you’re the one who ended things - over the fucking phone, might i add - not me. you have no right to come over here and act like you even deserve to be sitting next to me right now, let alone telling me you miss me.” you were on your feet now, trying and failing to keep your voice down as you watched Paul seem to recoil at your tone. you were still confused why he was acting like this; usually, nothing could crack his tough exterior, but here he was with his knees to his chest pushing himself against the church wall, not even making eye contact with you.

“now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going back inside. this day is not about you, or me.”

“y/n, wait-“ Paul’s voice was cut off by the closing of the heavy church door.

you sighed as you walked back to your table, joining your friends once again.

“hey y/n, feeling better?” your friend Jordan asked. you smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, nodding a little too fast. he didn’t seem to notice - they must not have seen Paul follow you outside. for that, you were grateful, in no mood to discuss whatever just happened.

—————

part 2 here :)

#paul lahote #the twilight saga #twilight #twilight obsessed #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote x you #the wolf pack #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote fanfic #paul lahote blurb #paul lahote fanfiction #midnight sun #seth clearwater #paul lahote angst #bella swan #edward cullen #jacob black

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prince0fpaints · 7 months ago

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Pirate!Sloan x reader

No warnings for this one enjoy!!

Stone cold Sloan, the most callous, ruthless, unruly pirate that sailed the Northern ocean. Everyone knew the ship they ruled the sea with, the aged burgundy wood that turned darker whenever the salty sea would kiss the sides. The spruce lining of the ship covered with cracks and splits on the wood showed all passersby on the seas just how resilient the captain and their crew is.

The capitan, Sloan Cameron, sat in their cabin, dim lights softly swinging from the water cradling the ship rocking slowly over the waves. They were currently drafting up what would be a new map the captain and their crew had just recently left a brand new island, untouched by any, and because Stone Cold Sloan had found it, they laid claim to it immediately, now it would be untouched by any crew other than their own.

They yawn and slump back in their wooden seat, stretching their arms over their head and cracking their knuckles, deciding it best to get up and stretch their weary bones. They took their time standing and dusting themself off, adjusting their many gold and leather belts before grabbing their maroon coat, it fit their well built figure perfectly, the way the velvety outside hugged their biceps, the leather padded shoulders sat like crowns on theirs, and the flow of the coat near the middle of their calves, singed at the edges due to narrowly escaping a battle. And then the final touch, the wide brimmed hat, complete with a ruby red feather. It was a signature for the Captain of the Rosetta crew.As the captain stepped out from their quarters, they adjusted their hat, making sure it sat comfortably on their mop of messy brown hair, bleached from the long hours of work. Their sun kissed skin illuminated by the moonlight, showing to the world the hunky figure that bore tattoos to the nighttime world.

The capitan sighed deeply, leaning over the railings of the ship, looking out into the deep, endless, blue. They often wondered what their life would be like if they didn't choose this life, would they take up a fishing career? Perhaps become a carpenter, maybe a sculptor! Would those quiet and dull lives replace th-

Splash!

Sloan was startled out of their trance, their train of thought completely derailed as a large amount of water soaked the entirety of their head, knocking their hat off.

“What in God's name!?”

They hissed, recovering from the shock of icy waters and rushing to the side of the ship, spotting a golden glow beneath the surface of the water. And by the time they went to shout for their crew, they were already standing behind them. With nets, harpoons, and ropes at the ready.

And in that moment they decided, ‘Nah, I wouldn't have it any other way.’ and then, the ship was off, following the specter of golden light that swam beneath the sea's surface. The orb of light was fast, dodging each harpoon that shot past it. Many failed attempts to shoot the creature were futile, nets were kicked off the sides and shot from cannons, only to wind up empty or damaged.

Sloan muttered curses under their breath as they realized they were down to the last net, and they decided to take matters into their own hands. They took their coat and hat off, shoving it into a random mate’s hands. Stomping towards a crewmate off to the side, they snatched the net away and loaded it into a canon. They lined the shot up, one chance, one moment, it all came down to one second.

. . .

Cheers and praise roared from the small crew as their capitan announced the success, ordering their first mate to set the rope for the net to be reeled in. They took their hat and coat back as they watched a light glow brighter the higher it went. And what they saw plastered a wide smirk on the captain's face.

. . .

You didn't like this, you were swimming away as fast as possible. Just your luck, you make a bet that you can outswim a pirate ship and now you reap the consequences of your actions. Struggling to bite apart the threads of some ropes that encased you, you thought you could make it, you thought you could escape but…

A whistle. “Lucky find!”

…You were sorely mistaken. The next thing you knew, your hands were tied up and you were being stared at by a bunch of women on a ship as their capitan shushed them and ordered them to move aside. You swallowed the lump that was in your throat as you watched the leader of this group smile brightly, a gold tooth in place of one of their real ones as they spoke directly to you.

“You are a treasure I can't just give away..”

#venture #venture x reader #overwatch venture #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fanart #overwatch 2 #overwatch #sloan cameron #sloan x reader #pirates

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madeintheniamh · 2 years ago

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broken ankle, karma rules

stmf one shot #9.

a/n: long time no see! i missed writing for you all so much

warnings: fluff & surgery

song: little freak- harry styles

“And next on the beam, please give a round of applause for Matilda Styles!”

Harry was stood next to you, cheering your eldest daughter on so loudly that it was starting to give you a headache. Nothing had beaten the look on Tilly’s face when she was told by her head coach that she had qualified for nationals, and you had followed her all the way up north to the arena where the competition was due to take place. You felt nervous just watching her, wondering how your 10-year-old daughter could stomach so many people staring at her, judging her every move. But then again, that was what her Dad did most nights whilst he was on tour. The Styles were performers, and loved having all eyes pointed in their direction, and Tilly was no exception to this rule.

You looked down, to see Lottie sucking on her thumb, her chewed up bunny hanging by the ear in her other fist. Harry could tell she was starting to doze off, having woken up at 5am for the car journey up here. He reached down before scooping her up in his arms and placing her on his shoulders, pointing in Tilly’s direction.

“Look at your big sister over there, sweet pea! Are you going to give her a cheer, I bet she can hear you,”

“Good luck, Tilly!” she shouted, her little voice echoing across the hall. Tilly, now stood up on top of a wooden beam, turned around to wave in her direction, smiling widely in her black and blue glittery long-sleeved leotard, emblazoned with jewels, a ribbon perched upon the tight bun you had tied her hair into. The routine started, and Harry gawked as she marched across the narrow piece of wood, flipping upside down and in all different directions, landing perfectly on her feet each time.

“That’s my girl!” he bellowed, reaching over the seats in front to get a closer look at her. The routine was coming to the finale, and this was the part she needed to stick- if the landing went just as well as the rest of it, she would be coming out with a very high score.

You watched her taking a deep breath, inhaling the stale, sweaty air of the arena, before beginning to run towards the end of the beam, her arms reaching out in front of her.

“Go on, Styles!” The girls in her team watching from the side-lines chanted, as her dainty hands made contact with the beam, before she flipped up and backwards, back down onto her feet again, and backwards, her knees tucked into her chest, getting closer to the floor, closer and closer before-

The snap was so loud, that you felt it echo across the entire arena. You felt as though things were going in slow motion, and you were helpless, watching all the way from the viewing platform, your daughter’s screams shrilling through your ears.

“Oh my god!” Harry yelled, moving Lottie from off of his shoulders and resting her on his hip.

She was laid out on the mat just off of the beam, one hand on her forehead, the other reaching down trying to grab her ankle. You rushed down the stairs, Harry’s free hand intertwined in yours, and pushed your way through the crowd that had congregated near her.

“Let them through, those are her parents!” the head coach screamed, putting her hands out to part the sea of people gawking over Tilly. Harry placed Lottie back on the ground before you both kneeled over next to her.

“Mummy, Daddy, I’m scared,” A stream of tears rolled down her face. “It hurts, it really hurts,”

Harry brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear, before wiping the tears from her cheek with the back of his hand.

“I know baby,” you sighed, locking eyes with Harry. “But you’re going to be alright,”

“Can someone get some ice? And a blanket, she’s really cold,” Harry shouted across the floor, before one of the girls came running back with them.

“Thank you sweet,” he smiled at the teenage girl wearing a leotard and track jacket, before wrapping the blanket around Tilly’s shoulders.

She sat up suddenly, and her green eyes widened in shock at the state of her foot.

“Oh no,” she cried, “I feel sick,”

Harry pressed the ice pack over her ankle before covering it up with the blanket. The sight of her mangled, twisted ankle, bleeding with a bone sticking out of it, was enough to make you and him feel queasy.

“You don’t need to see it, baby,” he whispered, rubbing her shoulders to try and warm her up. “Daddy’s going to lift you up now, okay? And we’re going to take you to the hospital, where they can fix it,”

She hissed as he hooked his arm under her knee to try and lift her.

“Don’t touch it!” she screamed, reaching out to throw his arm off of her. His hands flew up in apology.

“I’m tyring not to, Til,” He kissed her forehead, his voice beginning to break. “But I need to lift you up so I can get you to the car, okay?”

She sighed before wrapping her hands around his neck and he picked her up from the mat, cradling her in his arms like he used to when she was tiny.

“Mummy, is Tilly going to be okay?” Lottie whispered sweetly, her tiny hand now in yours.

“Yeah baby, you don’t need to worry,” you sighed, your heart breaking at the panic in her little voice. “We’re going to go to the hospital where the doctors can help her, okay?”

You watched Harry running out to the car as you followed closely behind him, as he sat in the back with Tilly for the entire car journey to the hospital.

---

“It’s a nasty break, that’s for sure,” The radiologist explained, as you noticed Harry’s face turning a shade of green as he looked at the X-Rays held out in front of him. It showed her bone as broken clean in half, bits managing to peek through her skin. “We will have to put her to sleep, and then put some pins in to hold it back in place,”

“Oh my,” Harry whimpered. “Surgery! But she’s so little,”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, Mr Styles. But this is the best way of fixing it,”

He sighed, frantically running a hand through his hair.

“One of the nurses is bandaging it up temporarily whilst we speak, so she’s comfortable for now. Someone should be up in an hour or so to take her up to theatre,”

You both thanked him and Harry shook his hand before he left.

“I’ll tell her, you don’t have to,” you offered, as he sighed, now tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor.

“It’s making me feel sick thinking about it, her up on the table, and she’s so, so little, what if she doesn’t wake up, and-”

“Harry,” you warned him. “I feel the exact same as you, but if she sees how worried you are, it’s going to make her panic, and that’s not good for her right now,”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I just wish it was me instead of her,”

You took his hand in yours, rubbing circles around his knuckles, before opening the door, your woozy daughter now sat up in the bed with a dazed expression on her face.

“My gorgeous girl,” Harry tried to smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. He kissed her forehead. “Are you feeling any better?”

She yawned slightly. “I’m tired, Daddy,”

You were relieved that painkillers coming through the IV on her arm were working. You knew it was bad when she hadn’t flinched as the nurse put the needle into her hand, because Tilly was normally never keen on needles.

“You sleep then, babygirl,” He said, now sitting on the end of the bed facing her, tucking in the blankets around her. Within under a minute, she was already fast asleep.

You and Harry had decided that it would be better to not tell her, because you knew she wouldn’t have slept, and also because you knew it would have hurt him too much to see her reaction. Harry had spent that entire hour pacing around the room, his green eyes darting back and forth between his daughter asleep in bed and the clock in the corner of the room.

He almost jumped when he heard the knock on the door, which also startled Tilly awake, as she bolted upright in bed.

“Hi darling, we’re going to take you upstairs now, okay?”

“Why,” Tilly muttered, her voice tainted with grogginess. “I want to stay here,”

“You’re going to have a nice sleep whilst we fix your ankle, okay? And then you’ll wake up and it won’t be hurting anymore,”

Tilly looked over at her dad, whose gaze was focused on a pot of flowers on the bedside table to avoid meeting her eyes, because he knew that if he looked at her, he would burst into tears.

“I thought… I thought we were going home,” she blubbered. “I thought we were going to get Lottie from Nanny Anne’s,”

“Nanny is going to come and see you later, okay?” you whispered, trying to keep your tone as light as possible. “But they need to fix your ankle first,”

She reached up to grab Harry’s tattooed arm, watery tears now beginning to stream down her face.

“You need to pick either Mummy or Daddy to take with you when we put you to sleep, darling,” the nurse smiled. “I’m sorry it can’t be both,”

Harry didn’t expect her answer to be him.

---

“I’m sorry baby, I know it’s horrible,” Harry sighed, stroking the back of her free hand as he watched a vial of liquid being squirted into the cannula on the other. Her hands were so tiny, that they had barely been able to get it in in the first place, and Harry had felt sick watching her cry as they struggled to find her vein.

“Am I going to wake up, Daddy?” Tilly whispered, her green eyes wide as she stared up in him. He felt another knot forming in his stomach, and could feel the sick beginning to travel up his throat.

“Of course you are, sweetheart,” He traced his fingertips across her pale cheeks. “The doctors are going to take very good care of you, you don’t need to worry,” He tried to make himself sound as certain as possible, but deep down he was more scared than she was. If he could have been lying on that bed instead of her at that moment, he would have been.

Her eyes began to flutter closed, as she tried to stare back up at him, fighting to keep them open.

“I love y-” She tried to say, but she was asleep before she could finish the sentence.

You saw him rush back out through the doors, as he collapsed down into your arms, no longer able to hold back his tears.

You didn’t need to say anything. You just held him there as the minutes slowly ticked by, listening to his quiet sobs as you felt your t-shirt beginning to become damp, running your hands through his soft brown hair.

---

“Mr and Mrs Styles,”

Harry immediately jumped up at those words.

“Is she okay?” He gasped, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” The nurse chuckled to herself, taking in the shocked look on Harry’s face. “She’s still coming round, so she’s a bit woozy, but she’s fine,”

“Thank god,” Harry muttered as he followed her back down the long, whitewashed hallway and into a small room where Tilly was tilted upright in a hospital bed, snuggled under crisp white sheets.

He moved a chair over and sat down beside her, running his thumb over her cheek before planting a kiss to her forehead. Her lips turned upwards into a smile, despite still having her eyes closed.

“Hi baby, did you have a nice dream?” Harry whispered, placing his hand over hers, grimacing slightly at the cannula in the back of it, which looked harsh and sterile imbedded in her soft pale skin. She giggled slightly, before slowly opening her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering up at him.

“Mmmhmm,” she muttered, her eyes dropping closed again. “M’still tired, though,”

“You sleep then baby, hmm?” He breathed. “It’s okay. Daddy can wait. I’ll always wait for you,”

-----

poor tilly! i'm sure harry will be the best daddy and make sure she is well looked after for the next few weeks :/

the link to my other dadrry one shots if you enjoyed this one:

#harry styles #dadrry #harry styles one shot #stmf #harry styles dad #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff

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peakyswritings · 1 year ago

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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART I

Summary: When the conflict with a powerful family threatens to bring down the Shelby Clan, Tommy takes a trip to Italy. In order to stop the disaster, two families must become one: marriage seems to be the only way to seal an alliance and bring peace. It’s Nina Ferrante, fierce and rebellious, the one who slowly makes her way into his heart, with steps so light he doesn’t even realise it. But things are not as easy as they may seem: one, Tommy is expected to marry her cousin, and two - Nina has no intention of getting married.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), English is not my first language.

A/N: here’s the first chapter of my new series. This is set somewhere between season 1 and 2. At the end, you’ll find the translation of a couple of Italian expressions. Feedback is always appreciated🤍

SERIES MASTERLIST

SERIES MOODBOARD

Gif credit

Dividers credit

Tommy gazed out the window of the car, watching the landscape pass before his eyes. The small Sicilian village was so different from Birmingham. It was rural, peaceful, and the air was clean, he could fill his lungs without smelling the smoke and the shit. Beyond the uphill road, he could even hear the sound of the sea. Had he been in a different situation, he would’ve enjoyed that sound, along with the feeling of the sunlight on his face.

But he had to stay focused. Because he was alone, and the men in the car with him were speaking words he couldn’t understand. They could’ve easily taken him to an empty field and put a bullet in his head, and no one would’ve known. His hand went to the gun inside his coat, taking in the feeling of security brought by the contact of the cold metal against his skin.

Vincenzo Ferrante said something to the driver, then his eyes met Tommy’s through the rearview mirror. There was a strange glimpse in them, something that vaguely resembled amusement. He knew he had the upper hand.

A familiar tingling sensation crawled over the back of Tommy’s neck. It was the way of his body to tell him that danger was near, had started to get it in France, and it hadn’t left him since. His fingers forcefully pressed against the grip of the gun as his hold tightened for a few seconds. Then, slowly, he released it, his hand coming to rest on his lap. He took a deep breath, pulling himself together. He had a deal with those people, and it would go through.

One week earlier

Tommy walked into the betting shop, his steps resonating over the wooden floor as he strode among the desks in the empty room. Empty, except for his aunt, who was waiting for him behind the main table.

“Here’s the information I found.” He said, tossing a folder on the wooden surface. Polly furrowed her eyebrows, grabbing it so that she could examine its content. It was full of photographs, letters and documents. God knew how Tommy had managed to get his hands on them.

“Go on.” She mumbled.

“Antonio Ferrante has two brothers, Vincenzo and Mario. They came to England when they were children, and they were raised here. Twenty-five years ago, Vincenzo and Mario went back to Sicily to start their business, both legal and illegal, while Antonio stayed here to carry on their legal race tracking operation. Of course, his organisation also has two sides. Vincenzo moves between Italy and England to help him with the other side. He’s here now. He’s been helping him with the attacks.”

Three attacks. Three attacks in one week. Tommy had never seen something like that. Those Italians were sly and quick, and extremely organised. They started by blowing up two of the pubs under the Peaky Blinders’ protection, then they proceeded to find one of their warehouses, and they blew it up as well. It was a matter of time before they came for the Shelbys.

Polly sighed, putting the papers back into the folder. Just when everything seemed to be going in the right direction, another bomb was dropped upon them. Quite literally.

Tommy rubbed his eyes, taking his time before continuing. “Ferrante was cooperating with Kimber. Thanks to this alliance, the family had secured a place at the top of the betting business. By killing Billy Kimber…”

“We stepped on their toes.” Polly finished his sentence.

“And now they want revenge. Yesterday they took three of our men.” He sighed, leaning against the desk behind him. That was another thing he had to take care of. He had to write to their families, send his condolences, and open a fund for them so that they could manage to sustain themselves without their husbands, fathers and brothers to take the money home. It was unpleasant, but it had to be done.

“It’s the Italian Mafia we’re talking about.” Tommy spoke again. “They have an organisation of bigger dimensions. If Ferrante calls the rest of his relatives from Sicily, it’s over for us.”

��So what’s the plan?” She asked, taking a cigarette from the pocket of her apron before placing it between her lips.

“Antonio Ferrante only has sons,” He started to explain, taking a match to light his aunt’s cigarette. “But his brothers have daughters-”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Polly’s head shot in his direction, eyes wide with disbelief as she could already imagine what he was trying to say.

“I’m talking about marriage, Polly. I’m going to marry one of the girls.”

Tommy couldn’t even believe his words as he said them. Before Grace, marriage had never crossed his mind, and after she left for New York, he was quite sure he would never find another woman. But there he was, selling himself so that his family could survive.

Despite the initial shock, Polly quickly regained her composure. She took a long drag from her cigarette, pondering her nephew’s words. “Why would they accept your offer?”

“Because by joining our forces, we can take down Sabini.”

“Do you think they’ll go against their own?” She inquired, a hint of scepticism in her voice.

“The Italians are fighting among themselves, now. Ferrante is also at war with Sabini, and he can’t defeat him on his own. Once Sabini’s taken care of, we’ll grant the Ferrante family a good place at the top of the business, even better than the one they occupied with Kimber.”

As much as Tommy tried to sound confident, he couldn’t hide his agitation. He couldn’t estimate the odds, there were no chances, no percentages. Everything felt unpredictable and beyond his control. He turned to grab the bottle of whiskey from the desk and poured himself a glass under Polly’s stare. It felt like she could read into him, like she could see right into his brain and know each one of his thoughts. It had always been like that, since he was a kid. It bothered him, sometimes, but deep down it was a relief to know that there was someone who could understand him without needing him to speak.

He downed all the whiskey in his glass, relishing the burning sensation. It grounded him, in some way. “Today I’m meeting Antonio and Vincenzo Ferrante.” He said, placing the glass on the table with a thud. “I’ll make the terms for peace.”

“How did it go?”

Tommy heard Polly’s question before he could see her. As soon as he entered the kitchen, he was met with her expectant eyes, her gaze scanning his face, looking for an answer. She poured him a glass of whiskey as he removed his coat and placed it on a chair.

“They accepted.” He just said, grabbing the glass. Polly’s expression relaxed for a moment, and she breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief was swept away as she noticed how her nephew was avoiding her gaze.

She waited for him to continue, but her patience ran out quickly. “And?” She asked.

Tommy sat on a chair and took a sip of whiskey. “And I’m going to Sicily to meet my spouse.”

There was some kind of inflection in his voice, one that not even Polly was able to define. But there was also a small particular in what he had said, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re going to Sicily?” She inquired, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“Alone?” She emphasised, leaning with a hand on the table, not taking her eyes off of his face.

“Yes.” He repeated, keeping his eyes on the bottle in front of him, well aware of how dangerous and imprudent it sounded.

“Tommy, are you mad?” She yelled, yanking away the bottle so that he would look at her. He finally raised his eyes, and silence fell between them for a while as he tried to find the words.

“I need you here to take control of the business while I’m gone. You’re the only one who can do that.” He explained, standing up so that he could speak to her face to face. “And I can’t take John and Arthur with me, because there need to be Shelbys here in Small Heath.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.” She spat.

Tommy placed his hands on her shoulders, the hint of a smile making its way on his face. “Think of it like this: if I don’t come back, all of this will be yours.” He pointed towards the door that opened on the betting shop. “You’ll make a good fortune.” He joked, trying to lighten the air.

However, his aunt didn’t seem amused. She just shook her head, a look of defeat in her eyes. “I could try and talk some sense into you, but you’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

Without answering, Tommy walked past her to take ahold his glass and drink the rest of his whiskey. He cleared his throat, gathering himself as best as he could. “Vincenzo Ferrante is going back to his family in three days. I’m going with him.”

Present day

The car drew to a halt. Beyond an iron gate stretched a large garden, which was divided in two halves by a gravel path that led up to two big houses. As the driver got out of the car to open the gates, Tommy couldn’t help but feel relieved. No empty field. No ditch waiting for him.

“I guess you’re hungry, Mr. Shelby. It’s been a long journey.” Vincenzo Ferrante suddenly spoke, taking him away from his thoughts. Before Tommy could answer, he continued. “Later we’re having lunch, and I’ll introduce you to the family. Communication won’t be a problem, me and Mario raised all of our children to speak both English and Italian, just like Antonio. For the sake of business.” He clarified.

Tommy just nodded, unsure about what to say. He half expected to be dead before even getting to the village, so communication had been the last of his thoughts.

Not caring much about his silence, Vincenzo pointed towards the house on the left. “That’s my house, and the other is my brother’s. You’ll be my guest. Since we’re suggesting you to marry my niece Agnese, we thought it would be improper for you to stay in the same house as her.”

Agnese. She was said to be the oldest, and the prettiest, and the most fitted to be a wife. However, they had assured him that if he were to find someone more to his liking, he would be free to choose, he just had to make the decision before starting to court her. They wanted things to be done the proper way.

Tommy leaned back in his seat, the need for a cigarette suddenly kicking in. “It’s understandable.”

The brief ride towards the houses was silent. In that short amount of time, Tommy tried to guess what the following weeks had in store for him, how his life would look like in a month, but truth was, he really couldn’t tell. He had no idea, and that was terrifying, even for someone like him. But he had to stay calm, focused. He couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down.

When he got out of the car, he had to keep himself from breathing a sigh of relief. He was finally able to stretch his legs after being seated for what felt like ages. He thanked the driver who handed him his suitcase, then proceeded to take a look around. The two houses - even though they were separated from each other - formed some sort of angle. In the shared garden a long table had been set up, and from the numbers of chairs Tommy could tell that a great number of relatives would be joining them for lunch.

“Papà!”

A female voice echoed in the garden, and a raven-haired girl ran down the stairs that led to the front door of Vincenzo’s house. In a matter of seconds she was in the garden, and she wrapped her arms around the man’s neck.

“Ciao, amore di papà.” Ferrante said, taking her face in his hands to leave a tender kiss on her forehead. “Come stai?”

She opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly distracted by Tommy’s presence. A glimpse of confusion flickered across her dark eyes, then something really close to realisation seemed to hit her.

Ferrante took a step back, so that Tommy and that girl could be in front of each other. “Nina, this is Tommy Shelby. Mr. Shelby, this is Nina, my daughter.”

Tommy watched as she furrowed her brows, hesitating for a couple of seconds before holding out her hand. Her eyes, that a few seconds before were warm and full of affection for her father, were now cold and wary. And there was something defiant in the way she refused to be the first to break eye contact. It was something that Tommy wasn’t used to, he had grown accustomed to people lowering their heads in his presence, not daring to even look at him. This girl clearly knew who he was, and yet she refused to be intimidated. It was quite admirable.

Soon, Tommy realised that he had probably let his hand linger in hers for a bit too long. He let it fall to his side, clearing his throat. “Pleasure.”

“Nina, why don’t you show our guest his room?” Ferrante suggested, placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “So you make yourself comfortable before lunch, Mr. Shelby.”

She said something in Italian, and even though Tommy couldn’t understand a single word, from the tone of her voice and her disgruntled expression he could tell that she was displeased. Nevertheless, a reproachful “Nina” uttered by her father, accompanied by a stern look, seemed to do the trick.

She glanced at Tommy one more time, before turning around and starting to walk towards the house. “Come with me.” She said, without worrying about whether he was following her or not.

Tightening his hold on the suitcase, Tommy started to walk behind her. If Nina’s cousin was half as hostile as her, he was truly fucked.

“Ciao, amore di papà”: “hi, darling” (literally - “hi, dad’s love”)

“Come stai?”: “how are you?”

NEXT PART

Tagging @zablife , cause I remember you asking me to tag you when this was out🤍

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x oc #heart body and soul

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fornasedensgudar · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I have a questions but i'm not sure if there's even an answer: do you know whether there is a norse or continental germanic god/goddess that is associated with wind??

Oh Im so glad you asked because I love wind gods and spirits and I got two that I feel like almost no one outside of Scandinavia seemes to know about.

One is norse but not really germanic. The other, is not even norse just swedish af lol.

First I like to tell you about Kåre.

I bet most of you have never heard of him, but I also bet you heard of Ran, or Logi och Ägir.

As some may know, Ran is married to Ägir, a sea jötun. And I bet you know Logi, the jötun who is wild fire personified.

What does this have to do with Ägir? Well Ägir is listed as the brother of Logi and Ägir. Whos father Fornjot, is know in one saga to be the King of the swedish island of Gotland. (Perhaps a hint to an old cult or god of the island.)

These three sons of Fornjot personified the elements or the three most brutal aspects of nature, the wild deep seas, the every hungry wild fires and the ever harsh and cold northen wind. (With a father who rule over an island in the baltic sea that makes rather sense)

The name Kåre is also a swedish word describing a special form of wind or storm.

Kåre is also mentiond in Flatöboken and in one story in Fundinn Nóergr Kåre is the father of Frosti of the frost. But in Hversu the son is named Jökull wish means ice feald. This Jökull is in folklore (mostly in norway) said to be the father of old man winter.

So a lot of maybes here and things that hint he was more well known from Gotland to iceland and norway back in the day but a lot been lost.

But we do know he was a winter and wind jötun and one of the three elemental brothers.

My local group do offerings to him during winter and autum rituals but I know some pepole up north do as well. But overall hes rather forgotten compared to his brothers.

Here is a drawing of him by me:

THEN we get to the fun local part.

Ysätters-Kajsa!

Now who the heck is this and whats her deal?

Well Im from a Village called Asker, In Närke.

And back in the day, the farmers spoke about a troll by some, a Huldra by others and by some a spirit/creature who did not fitt any of the molds. Manny famous writers also wrote about her. Most famous of them all is Selma Lagerlöf.

Ysätters-Kajsas name came from the old Moss/lake in Ysätters thats said to be her home or birthplace, but she ruled the weather (but mainly wind) all over Närke but mostly Asker and the sorounding flat plains and fealds.

Ysätterskällan was likely an old offering place to what once was an old goddess or for spirits witch hints to her older roots before she was said to be an evil troll or forest spirit.

The Kajsa in her name is explained in a intervju with an old farmer from Asker in the start of the 1900s dokumentet in the book "Asker, Sant å sånt"

"that was just wat they named them trolls and giants back in the day"

That might seeme weird but tbh in the 1700s there are stories how pepole would toss coins to Kajsa of the sea while fishing.

Or in the 1800s when some in the Mountains and forest called forest and Mountain spirits for Kajsa as well.

It almost seemed as a form of a so called "noa-name" or maybe as the old man said: "it was just what them trolls was named back in the day."

(Im sure there is someone smarter here who can explain this weird Kajsa thing)

But ok, her wind aspect then?

Well first of all, its windy in East Närke.

Like the start of this old poem said

"Den ljuva Närke slätten, där enbart stormen består."

"The lovely Närke plains, where only the storm remains."

Also in manny stories she is said to controll wind and to travel by air.

In one story its said Ysätters-Kajsa looking down on Närke and was like "man this place is pretty, pepole have it good here, we cant have it like that."

And pretty much just made sure its always a bit windy and would play trick on the humans, making them get lost in forest, stealing laundry that hanged out to dry and in general just make the pepole of Närke just a little less comfy in their home.

But she is also a protector or the land!

In one myth, back in the day when a wild fire almost brought an end to the village of Asked she came to save the pepole, because even if she liked to play tricks on them she also deeply loved the pepole and needed them just as much as she they needed her.

So its said when the fire got to the center of the village, a woman was seen dancing up on the church towers roof and as she did storm clouds started to form and with wind and rain the fires was put out and the Village was saved.

Ysätters-Kajsa drawing by me:

This is also why my group call to her and giver her offerings for protection. Shes our local trickster and protector spirit of the wind.

But being a very Asker and Närke spirit. This is one I have to say I would think would be very weird and not really ok if like, pagans in america for some reason started to make offeings to. Because this is not just any big ol god or goddess. This is a local myth and spirit and part of my childhood and culture. I added a lot here from books just to get the facts right but I also just str8 up heared stories about her as a kid. She is just the protector of Asker and the bringer of wind in Närke.

Like if you dont live here, dont.

Go with Kåre then instead whos more wind in general.

But I had to share this about her becouse I just love her and wind spirits and gods in general.

Also, this is a good reminder to check what you have local, you might have myths and stories about old spirits and gods of the land you grow up and live in.

As I often say. The best way to do polytheism and anmism is to know and work with your local land and the spiritits and gods within said land. Because thats the best tools you got right here, right now. The land it self.

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dranna · 1 year ago

Text

Blossoming Love through the Ages

2500BC - Prologue

AO3 / Commissions / Links / Chapter 1

Warnings: mentions of death

Summary: How does their friendship and eventually their feelings blossomed through the ages? I'm attempting to rethink the scenes we saw from the seasons, adding Crowle's thoughts and additional segments.

Line art by me:)

After I finished the first chapter, I realised I should've started with a prologue (and the "Before the Beginning", so I'll start that, after I've finished this era).

I'll also stop putting "Crowley’s POV" at the beginning of every chapter, because the entirety of the fic, will be from Crowley's point of view. ( I've tried placing the Land of Uz, somewhere around the Red Sea )

The Demon with the burning hair,

Was sitting in a cool shelter,

Watching people’s trading fair.

How crowded was the place,

Full of life and merry ways.

The Land of Uz was quite a spot,

To hold a scene for many different folk,

Because the Red Sea was a few days away,

Many mortals visited the region there.

He haven’t realised it yet,

But he liked watching humans’ life,

How they go by,

And coming up with new ideas.

How could there be, so many of them already?

It seems like it was yesterday,

That all of them was wiped away,

By the huge ass flooding of the sphere.

Wasn't there only eight of them on that boat,

That carried the animal pairs too onboard?

Huh.., how weird humans are.

It will be a real nuisance,

When they’ll try to eliminate them.

Within the next 6000 years.

– exhaled interestingly,

While he was eyeing,

A wine merchant on the street.

Ha! What sprang the plan,

To take that little fruit they call a grape,

And then juice the meat,

Turning it into a drink at the end?

– It was around the time,

When Planet Earth started it’s wellbeing,

To host an abode for the creatures of the Supreme Being.

It’s been quite a while,

Since They, Up and Down plan something in a style,

I wonder what their future projects are,

Tho I wouldn't mind a little off time,

Now everything seems slow and kind—

– One of the traders’ voice of great wine,

Started to intertwine,

With a deep, deep cry,

That came from the terrors of the basement's call line.

“Best wine of this land!

Get it only for a– little playfulness,

A great morning, isn't it Crowley?

I have big news for you!

I’m pretty sure,

You will let out proudly

How lucky are thee,

Because you just got the task,

To kill and consume all the things,

That God’s pet,

Job got!

“But the holy management–”

“Do not worry about punishment,

You just got a free pass!”

And with that,

A parchment that looked huge and old,

Appeared in front of the serpent’s foot.

Just when he started to enjoy existence,

He was sent to cause turbulence.

None seemed to notice what happened,

It was only Crowley,

Who grew cold instead.

Oh for Satan’s sake!

Couldn't they have sent someone else?

He looks like a good lad,

Punish him only because of a bet?

– After that,

You could see the yellow eyed man,

Standing in the gloom,

Studying the papyrus, like he is searching for a tomb.

Everything is written perfectly clear here,

Demolish all his belongings and children…

Not the children!

But… You and I can't kill kids,

They’ve done absolutely nothing!

Why do You beat them,

For something they didn't act?

A few hours after the exchange of that,

Crowley stopped reading the parchment of death,

Sorrow, what felt the ruby head,

However he would never admit to that,

He started drinking all the wine,

The vendors had left behind.

Isolated what he felt,

As like being a wall,

Between him and joy.

I’m supposed to be overjoyed,

That I got that job,

Every Demon would be glad,

To do the deed I have,

So why can’t I?

During the hours, when the Sun was the tallest on the Blue,

A man could be seen walking friendless,

Towards the hills in loneliness.

There was a feeling in the air,

That didn't promise anything well,

The heat was raging in fury,

While the man was climbing the mountains fully.

No bird song could be heard,

The figure dressed in black sad no word,

He looked like one in headache,

Contemplating heartbreak.

Thank you for reading!

Let me know if you would like to be tagged

Tags my beloveds: @giosnape

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grimaussiewitch · 2 years ago

Text

100 warlock patron pack ideas: part 1

1: Your parent was desperate to have one child so they made a deal with a fiend. They were to have a child together and that child will become their servant later in life. They got lucky and had twins, your sibling being the first born was chosen to be the warlock. However, just as they started to train as a warlock, they were killed in a freak accident. As the remaining child, you must now venture out as the new warlock, whether you like it or not.

2: Your old party was killed by a lich or zombie horde, as you bleed out on the floor, a voice whispered to you “I can save you, join me and you will ‘live’ with my help” In a dazed state, you accept and wake up else where. Congratulations! You are now patient zero.

3: Yeah, parents make sure your kids don’t befriend a unicorn. They might end up selling their soul by accident. You, you are the child.

4: Turns out that really pretty angel you saw isn’t an actual angel but as celestial being of sorts. They want to become a true god by any means and you’re their first ‘follower’.

5: Two different patrons are fighting over who’s better. They make a bet to have their own warlocks become rivals, become stronger and one day fight to the death or until one yields. That rival can be an npc or fellow player.

6: When you were a kid you would run into the forest to play with your weird fey friend. One day they took you to their house in the feywild to introduce you to their parents. Congrats! They’re your new bosses! Yep, you’re now the bodyguard for your best friend! For whatever reason you’re not in the feywild anymore, perhaps your friend has been kidnapped or you’re training outside of the feywild.

7: You know the story of the sword in the stone? Yeah, something like that. Don’t pull random swords out of rocks in the deep forest kids. But hey, at lest the sword gives great monologues.

8: You died at birth. Your parents prayed and begged for the help from the gods. However, a fiend mistresses heed to their call. You were revived but the coast was your body. You were to become her warlock and one day, her vessel. You want to break the pack but that would just kill you and you don’t want to do that for your parent’s sakes. Instead, you want to go out in a blaze of glory.

9: You are a pirate and for the last few months, a certain merman has been travelling with your ship, unknowingly to your captain and fellow crew. You have been on and off flirting with this merman. One day the captain finds out and has the merman captured with the plan to sell him. During the night you rescue the merman, could be through burning the ship or a giant kraken, take your pick. Falling into the dark cold water, the merman saves you and lets your crew die. You two round up in a cave where he offers you power to protect yourself. He’s a witch of some sorts so he’s got a little bit of magic up his sleeves. The pact is sealed in a ring. You’re only work for him is to explore the world, both land and sea. But he does want you to return to the sea once in a while, just for a visit with him.

10: Your parents are two powerful patrons that for divorce some time in your childhood. You are still in a custody battle as who’s warlock. Your just some dude, why do powerful beings have yo be so petty and childish? Bruh, parents can be so embarrassing.

#grim talks #dnd #warlock #dnd warlock #patron #patron pack #warlock patron #warlock pack #inspiration #prompt

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btscontentenjoyer · 1 year ago

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I almost have no words for this one, just tears 🥺🥺🥺

"matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart." I already want to cryyyy he's so preciousssss

"you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep." Your writing is so beautiful, Art but it also breaks my heart 😭

"since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side." Oh god, the more I learn about OC the more I think they deserve all the love in the world 🥺🥺🥺 They've had and still have so much to deal with and yet they're such a kind and loving person still, an inspiration for us all 🥺

"you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself." 😭😭😭

"for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abudance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same." Beautiful!!!!

"jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands." :(((

"the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own." Little details like this are always so adorable and make me smile, I love themmm.

“please! you can watch me sleep too.” he pouts. “you know i always make it work. while i eat, while i shower! that won’t change. i need to see you and gain strength… or else i seriously think i won’t survive this one.” 😭😭😭 Tears have been streaming down my face from the beginning and they're only gaining speed. Also seeing this and knowing what will come later for them just makes everything hit even harder and it hurtsss 😭 They both try so hard and go through so much so that they can stay with each other and it's heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. Why can't the world just let them be together and love each other in peace 😭😭😭

“aish! jimin-hyung!” he releases a deep sigh to express his exasperation, knitted forehead not doing much to diminish the roundness of his eyes. “i bet one of them is jimin-hyung! i’m right, aren’t i? you- you’re getting too close with him! i can’t allow this- really, i- ah! no! no!” Cuteeeee

“i love you. please give me your trust for now… i won’t waste it. you’ll see, at the end of this, we’ll be stronger. i promise i won’t forget my responsibilities as your partner even if we’re physically apart.” 😔😔😔

"he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes." This one reeeeally got me and every time I reread it I start tearing up. I need to give him a hug 🥺🥺🥺

"you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.” the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?” Adorableeee

"with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for." 😭😭😭

"the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.” Knowing how hard he finds it to express how he feels makes it even more special when he puts in the effort to do it because he knows OC needs it 🥺🥺🥺

I'm sorry I didn't have as much to say this time, Art, but this one just went straight to my heart and even now, two days after reading it, I can't properly express any thoughts 😭😭😭 Just know that you pulled so many emotions out of me like you usually do and now I need to hug both OC and Jungkook as tightly as I can. I feel like the fluffy drabbles will feel extra sweet after this one 🥺🥺🥺

summary: in which jungkook misses you before he even leaves.

idol!jungkook x reader / angst, fluff / word count: 3.7k

content/warnings: they both cry, they’re so in love and anxious of being apart 🥲 pls somebody give my babies a box of tissue damn it!!! / making out :") might be one of my favs i’ve written heh cherry koo ily

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hiii this serves as a prologue kinda to the giving up drabbles <3 and as to not confuse the timeline, this one takes place in sept 2018 and the first giving up drabble june 2019 ^^ hehe reblogs/feedback are appreciated + as always i’d love to chat abt ur thoughts 🥺

—

“i’ll call you when i arrive at the dorm, baby. let’s pack the rest of my things together, hmm?”

you hum softly in agreement, hiding your face on jungkook’s chest so he won’t see you yawn.

you’re so adorable, he thinks to himself with a grin.

matching his outfits with you in preparation for his travels has always been one of the little ways you spend quality time together. yes, you will be physically apart for most of this year and the next… but if he just pushes that fact in the back of his mind for an hour or two so he can make you laugh with his purposely horrendous choices, he thinks he may be able to leave with a lighter heart.

one last kiss is granted to your forehead, and you nuzzle your cheeks against his warm hands to cherish every ounce of his touch you can manage to steal.

you peek from the small space of the door to smile at your lover, which he then returns rife with fondness. you wave and bid your silly bye bye’s to each other, and it’s you who ultimately closes the door despite the voice in your head bewailing its protests.

it creates a clicking sound as you push it all the way, and after that, the defeaning silence fills your apartment like a toxic gas that makes it impossible to breathe. with no other soul left to witness it, your walls involuntarily come crumbling down. your eyes become blurry with unshed tears, and they fall one by one, some getting caught by your eyelashes. they hang heavy until they inevitably roll down your cheeks, as if they’re desperate not to crash and break, as if they’re horrified of their fate towards doom… much like you are.

recognizing the sensation of your weak knees threatening to give way, you lean your forehead on the hardwood to relieve some of the weight burdening your shoulders.

your chores have piled up while you were recklessly spending every second you had left with your boyfriend. you have better things to do than to cry. however, you can’t control your face that contorts to express the pain of having your heart mercilessly squeezed in your chest, tighter and tighter as the distance between you and jungkook grows, and it will only continue to do so.

you wind up as a heap on the floor, an intricate collection of love yet to be given and shards of memories calamitous and beautiful, knees hugged to your chest as you weep.

you swore you wouldn’t do this. you fucking swore you wouldn’t do this to yourself.

since losing your family, you’ve been alone, trying to survive in this world like a leaf in the eye of a storm, carried by a raging river that travels to an unknown sea. you then promised that no matter how much you affection you’ve grown to have for someone, if there comes a time that they make you feel lonely (skin-on-skin or heart-to-heart), you will be the one to walk away first. even if it hurts, even if it leaves you empty inside. for one, you’ve never liked wasting your time. you know what you want and what you need— someone who will stay within reach. your day-to-day life is far too draining for you to find the energy to beg for love and attention… and for the love of god, there’s already too many people you wish were still by your side.

your friends have witnessed you annihilate hearts and egos, leaving behind a string of jaded lovers.

but jungkook, with his bunny-like smile and endless gestures of kindness… has somehow slithered his way into a space in your heart where no one has ever been.

the apartment feels too empty with him not around. he’s not knocking rhythmically at your door from the inside to announce his arrival. he’s not in the kitchen humming songs while chopping vegetables. he’s not in the shower yelling at you because you forgot that turning on the sink makes his water cold. he’s not in the living room watching a movie on your laptop. he’s not snuggled closely with you and snoring execessively by your ear.

it’s going to be like this for a while. it’s always going to be like this, you realize.

you’re so fucking lonely.

you’ve only gotten used to him being here, and now you need to re-learn what it’s like to be without him.

you’re forced to gasp for air as you sob uncontrollably, interrupted by occasional hiccups that make your body jolt. you taste the salt in your tears as they seep into the crevice between your lips, can feel them beginning to poison your skin.

you let jungkook come too close. he slept on your bed and he learned that you’re always cold. he enveloped you in the safety of his warm embrace and you couldn’t will yourself to leave after the first time. you’ve surrendered to him the control over your body, and also your heart, which you may be breaking alongside your rule but… walking away would mean forsaking yourself.

for the first time, you are crying not because of the absence of love, but the abudance of it. humans are essentially a collection of dead stars that are brought back to life when they are consumed by the electric ache of love and yearning. you are addicted to the antidote that is the touch of another body that burns the same.

you’re free falling.

if you were to choose the cause of your madness, you would choose this.

because for the first time, you are not cursing a name, but the universe and its twisted ways. in your one-bedroom apartment, you don’t feel small; your arrogance is as big as the sun that threatens to swallow the earth whole. the empty space on your bed is now in the shape of the man who loves you.

the back of your head hits the door, and you sigh at the new predicament that presents itself to you: the fluorescent lightbulb at your doorway is flickering as if to signal its impending death.

your bad vision begs you to look away.

it’s too high. it’s too high for you to reach. jungkook isn’t here anymore.

you bury your face in your hands, another wave of tears spilling over before you could get a hold of yourself. your cries are unapologetic; you sound like a little child who got their hair pulled at the playground.

you would much rather wait for him than find a solution. you want to bear the weight of him in every possible way there is. you want to have him in mind every time you flip the light switch, because you always seem to forget that it’s dying after a long day at school.

but for now, all you can do is sit on the floor and smell his perfume on your clothes as you wait for his call.

—

jungkook is still frozen on the driver’s seat, struck with a suspicion that he left something behind in your apartment, but he can’t figure out what else there is besides his heart in the palm of your hands.

he opens up every single compartment of his backpack, but he soon carelessly discards it at the backseat because he has no idea what it is he’s even looking for.

“what is it? what is it? what is it?” he mutters absentmindedly to himself, wide doe eyes still actively darting around the car as he mulls over what could possibly be missing. “am i an idiot? am i just making things up in my head?”

but he is leaving for tour after all, it would be a big headache if he forgets to bring something important.

something important such as…

proceeding with a final inspection, he starts patting around his body, from his chest down to the pockets of his sweatpants.

“ahhh-” he makes a noise of enlightenment when he discovers one of them to be completely empty.

it then becomes vivid in his mind— the memory of him lazily setting down his wallet on your study table before he crawled on your single-sized bed as if it’s his own.

“…shit. i need to go back.”

—

he has a smirk plastered on his face as he jogs his way up to your apartment floor. radiating with pure excitement unbeknownst to himself, he even begins to skip a step with every long stride he makes across the staircase.

thanks to his forgetfulness, he found an excuse to be with you for a few minutes more.

the fourth door straight ahead, he still remembers chanting in his head the first time he visited your building on his own.

he stands before it with the intention to surprise you, but ironically, he is the one who ends up freezing in place. your muffled sobs escape through the narrow cracks of the door, and his hand slowly slips away from the handle until it drops back to his side. his vision becomes unfocused, mind going blank, only registering the shortness of his breath and the powerful punch to his gut.

that sweet, heart-fluttering smile that comforted him must’ve killed you inside.

—

“i won’t forget to call after every show.”

“that does sound nice but…” you scrunch your nose cutely. “i won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re worried about. go straight to sleep when you’re exhausted. i know you won’t have much time to rest.”

and jungkook hopes that he’s not too much of a burden for loving you.

although, you did tell him once in passing— that anyone can be passionate, but not everyone will bravely go on stage every night to showcase those passions, even if it means testing the very limits of the human body.

“i can’t allow that to happen, can i?” you click your tongue, copying the angry frown of your boyfriend, who you find so, so, so cool.

his features soften after you pinch his soft cheek.

“your hyungs might kill me if i make their little one mope around missing me too much.”

“w-what do you mean?” he becomes flushed with embarrassment. “what kind of things do they tell you?!”

“nothing much.” your eyes shine with a glint of faux innocence. “when we were trainees, jungkook did this… since meeting you, he’s gotten more stubborn… can you tell him to wake up earlier if he plans on showering for an hour? you know, just things like that.”

the burst of laughter that fills the room only confirms his suspicion. you roll over on the bed to cover your face, half of your body collapsing on top of his, and you clutch your aching belly when he begins to aggressively shake you in a joking manner.

“listen, you can’t become best friends! you hear me? don’t! my secrets… what’s going to happen to them? who else can i tell them to?!”

immediately recognizing his poor choice of words once they have left his mouth, jungkook purses his lips in regret, and it’s his turn to feel his lungs burn from the lack of oxygen.

“oh, really?” you slowly sit up as you stare at him with raised eyebrows. “and what kind of secrets do you need to keep from me? huh?”

he doesn’t waste a second to reply, scrambling as to not leave any space for you to formulate more doubts in your head.

“nothing! nothing, baby!” he flashes a dreamy smile in return to your sharp glare. he gently cups the back of your head to pull you back closer, puckering his lips as he tries to meet you halfway. “come here- give me a kiss.”

you ignore his advances, moving away from him with a scoff you don’t even bother to hide. the annoyance bubbling up inside of you feels irrational, and yet you can’t stop it from controlling your body language.

his jaw slacks in disappointment. he despises being denied affection, more importantly, a kiss meant to be shared with you.

“are you mad?”

you turn your back against him, scooting closer to the edge of the bed, but jungkook doesn’t waste time in chasing after you.

“baby!” he whines, seizing your arm and tightly embracing you from the side before you can escape. “i was just joking- i promise- i swear. you’re even the first person i share my secrets with nowadays!”

you sigh in defeat, eyes fluttering shut as you allow him to caress your face and pepper your cheek with loving kisses. loud, and slightly wet, which you used to not be fond of when it came to the lovers you had before, but as for jungkook and his dewy lips, you weirdly don’t seem to mind.

“please don’t be mad.” he coos lightheartedly before ducking his head to press his lips against yours. “i don’t want us to fight before i go.”

“i’m not mad.” your reply is quiet, and it drips with hesitance. “i just don’t want to think about you having secrets while you’re away.”

you turn to communicate directly with his eyes. if you feel sick to your stomach imagining him as a person you’d never have the grace to forgive, you don’t show it.

“you understand where i’m coming from, right?”

he meekly nods.

this is another reason why he is eager to spend all his free time with you, albeit through a screen smaller than the palm of his hand, and perhaps buy you trinkets from every city that welcomes him because everything reminds him of you. he wants to give you the reassurance that he doesn’t have any plans on doing something that may hurt you. this will be excruciating, he knows, but it is also a chance to prove himself as a boyfriend worthy of your tears and sacrifices. this can’t end before it begins. he doesn’t think he’d be able to bear that. he just celebrated his first birthday with you. it hasn’t been long since you uttered the three words he’s been anxiously waiting to hear.

he tenderly strokes your hair, eyes filled with galaxies memorizing every inch of your face. he’s scared, too. he’s scared that he’s overestimating himself. too ambitious, too greedy for wanting both the world and the most beautiful person he has ever seen in it to love him. he’s scared of getting too exhausted. he’s scared that you won’t be there anymore when he opens his eyes.

“i will probably mope around, though, missing you too much…” he pauses, then he makes up his mind.

him getting more stubborn since he met you— it might just have some truth to it that he’s too sheepish to say out loud, especially if his members were around to hear it.

“yes, i will seriously be a handful.” he nods to himself. “so i’m already apologizing early.”

“what are those responsibilities exactly?”

“to show you that i love you!” he exclaims in a tone that screams obviously. “to make you happy, to keep you safe… to stay committed to you- yah, you already know these things!”

but still, it’s nice to hear him say it. this bed of roses is a bed of thorns; he has chosen to sleep on it with you.

you giggle heartily at the sight of his face getting flushed. “you’ve been doing a great job then, baby.”

the praise causes his doe eyes to sparkle with glee. “really?”

“really!” his heart skips a beat when you softly cup his face in your hands, wearing that kind smile he can’t help but fall in love with over and over again. “don’t worry, i won’t let you miss me too much. i have my share of the responsibilities too.”

—

he swallows the lump in his throat, shakily sitting on the floor with his back against the door. he doesn’t know how long he stays there. he only knows that it’s near sunrise because the lights across the hallways have gone out one by one.

with an elbow resting on top of his knee, he fiddles with the laces of his shoe with no rhythm or rhyme— silently crying with you, clueless as to what he should do. he didn’t learn about this in school, nor during dance practices. no one teaches you what to do when you hurt a person you love but there’s no fault to fix and apologize for.

every now and then, a tenant passes by, and he is overwhelmed with the urge to scream at them to fuck off and mind their own business.

adding to his frustration is his phone, which has been vibrating with calls and text messages. he only spares them a dismissive glance before clicking the off button. yes, he fucking knows it’s already 5am. yes, he’s still with his baby. however, he is forced to send a reply to his manager when asked if they could finish packing his luggages for him to save time. no. no, no, no.

on the other side of the door, the pitter-patter of mechanical rain tickles your ears. your nimble fingers doesn’t cease on tapping on the keyboard even as your eyes stray to the contact name above the conversation, just to make sure that it’s your boyfriend you’re texting.

to: my jungkook

babyyy the sun is about to rise

so i’m not sleepy anymore :(

you're not home yet?

wait. if you're still driving just reply later

be a good driver before a good bf for now ☺️

ohoh i don’t mind if you don't have time to call anymore. just text me rq before you take off pleaseee so i know you're safe and sound

and after the flight ofc!! 😭

i love you! ❤️

seconds later, a pounding at the door makes your body jolt in shock. you carelessly rush to stand up, the safety measure of looking through the peephole not even crossing your mind before you swing it open.

jungkook stuns you with his presence, chest heaving with every breath as he studies you in a fog of haze. your messy hair perfectly frames your pretty face. your parted lips are raw from the crime of your sharp teeth forcibly putting an end to your crying. your eyes are still damp with tears, and they shine every time the warm light hanging above your head flickers.

if you could only read his mind, you won’t have to worry about him wanting anybody else.

once again, he finds himself helplessly infatuated. why do you have to look utterly bewitching even when you cry? fuck, and your texts… how did he get so lucky? you fuel something carnal inside of him that he has difficulty putting into words.

and so, he allows his actions to speak for himself.

“jungk-” his name is interrupted with a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. your trembling hands desperately grasp the sides of his hoodie as you stumble backwards, struggling to recriprocate the unrestrained fervour of his kisses.

he’s out of control. he has never kissed you like this before. you don’t know if he doesn’t feel your weak fists punching his chest or he just doesn’t care. you feel dizzy… dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

you’re confused why he’s still standing at your doorway. you’re terrified of losing your balance. you’re crushing a pair of sneakers underneath the soles of your feet and it hurts. but his fingers are tightly tangled with your hair, the others playing a saccharine hymn along the keys of your spine, and for the pleasure he gives, you can endure to live with the pain.

the familiar taste of mint on his tongue is far too addictive for you not to indulge. you can’t stop craving for more of it, more of him, and you let your lungs burn.

but soon it mixes with the salt in his tears as his emotions crash on the shore like a tsunami. the seal of your lips is broken by a quiet sob, and in shame, he ends the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“____, what do i do? i don’t want to leave.”

your heart shatters into pieces as he sniffles, voice cracking as he musters up the courage to confess to you in between.

“jungkook…”

the words of sincerity feel heavy on his tongue. he’s never been good at this; always relied on his ability to feel. in spite of that, he wants to bare all of himself to you, and he prays that you believe him when he says- “i can’t imagine my life without you anymore.”

“so don’t. you don’t have to think about things like that.” you sigh as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, subtly swaying your bodies to soothe him. “come on, love. why are you crying…? you know where to find me, don’t you?”

you feel him nod before he mumbles pensively. “here… or school, or the restobar.”

“that’s right.” you chuckle. “just don’t lose your key. i’m not going anywhere.”

but he fears it’s his goddamn mind he might just lose. he squeezes his eyes shut, embracing you tighter as he counts the seconds in his head. he will let go after thirty, then perhaps he will stay for another ten.

in another lifetime, jungkook wishes that he could tell you the same.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook fic recs #ivi reads

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mauannacreates · 1 year ago

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Flufftober Day 4: Cinderella Moment

Hi everyone...! So far, I am on a roll with flufftober (but also a bit late from usual time, because I did it a bit late and got a bit too invested into this.) So this event is by @flufftober and I had so much fun writing this. So, I hope you enjoy this!

Today, the inside of Alalingamor Kingdom is has lots of people talking… People partying. Some drinking, some talking… Most of them are occupied. I go and tap on the side of Braedon’s shoulder.

“Hey, follow me.” I whispered, and he’s glanced around at the other people, before he gives a nod, and I grasp my hand onto his as he walks outside of the corridor with me. And we walk through the sandy stone walls that is void of people, as our steps are the only one that eches within the corridors.

That is… Until we make it outside. It’s sand trails throughout the light flowy night, as Braedon stares at me with a quizzical look. And I grasp my hand onto his.

“Brae Brae, don’t worry. There’s nothing wrong with going outside in the middle of a desert night.” And his cerulean eyes stares at me. Like really stares at me. And his head gives just the slightest nod as I lead him through the sandy walls, with pointy and prickly agaves standing at a distance every so often. Then, aha… I twist to the side of the castle, where there’s the frequent columns coming through us.

“Jules, where are you…?” Braedon started to say, when I twist towards him.

“Trust me, it’s nice.” I said. And he gives a slow nod as I keep on leading him. “I wouldn’t say it’s a full on paradise, but it’s a lot calmer than in the castle.”

“Even with the cold?” He said.

“Yes, even with the cold.” We keep on going until we are at the back of the castle… And the cactus’ spreads across the deserted field, almost as if it’s waving to us, and the moon, glimmering as bright, if not brighter than the starts that sparkles in and out of the dark blue sky.

I glance towards him. It’s dark, but with his eyes looking down towards me, I couldn’t help but give a smile.

“How does it look?” And he glanced ahead to the view, the tuft of his hair waving with the air, before he faces towards me.

“It’s nice.” The sand shrivels through as I peek a glance at him. Now really looking at him, with the bare creases striking his face, He looks around the same age as me. And I twitched myself a smile.

“Hey, I hear at Pyrocast, they make you do all the best dances.” and I fling my hand towards him. “Do you want to dance with me?” And his brows raises. This has totally caught him off guard. But there’s the slightest of flutter tremoring within… Almost as if it’s fluttering against me. And with how his smile twitches to a grin. He gives a breathy laugh.

“Why shall I dance with you of all people?”

“Because you look as beautiful as the stars glimmering upon thine sky…” and his eyes widens, as he steps back. And I take a step towards him. “Or, shall it be ours for the night?” And his eyes are searching throughout me, as if he’s trying to read what I’m doing. But I grip my hands against his, “Dance with me, Braedon.”

The night stands long as the bugs chirps throughout the night. And Braedon, he… He grips my hand onto his, our hands slowly intertwining our hands together. My heart aches against his dark as we start to move around together. Like the sort where we’re clinging onto each other and it’s like somehow, we’re the only ones within this sandy place. Twirling, and a smile starts to grow on his face… But from the flutter and shaky tremors shaking upon my heart, I bet my smile is at least three times as wide as his. Even if his smile is somehow catching me into a cage and really just wants me to admire it from afar. And his eyes… God, his eyes are like deep blue seas, I really wonder where it’ll take me… maybe within the depths of it, it’ll eventually show his home, and what it’s like to be actually living there.

And then, we eventually come to a stop. And Braedon… He’s… He’s gracing the side of my face. His hands, I thought despite it being big, it’d be hard. But it’s actually so soft. And his eyes flickers down around me as I feel his body lean closer towards mine… And then, his face… He’s leaning forward towards me slightly… But then… He’s pausing half way…? I give a chuckle.

“Braedon, this is how you do it.” I said, even though I have no clue on how it’d work. I lean towards him, and I meet my lips with his… And it’s as if my stomach jolts and flutters all at the same time to his touch. My lips, pressing against his, to the flowers of it all jostling together into one. I distance myself from him as I started to laugh.

“Jules, you really find this funny.” Braedon said, “You really find it funny!?” And he ends up going to a spiral of laughter too. One that echoes within the starry night. And gosh…! Who would think that I would feel this happy with someone as princely as him? And come on, just hold a deep breath… Smile.

“Yes,” Don’t stifle…! “It’s very…! Hahahaha!” And I really couldn’t help myself, the laughs beating against the side of my waist. And the humor in seeing his ears twitch back, but still holding a smile as he goes and shakes his head side to side.

“Talamor…! Stop it!” Braedon says, “Dad’s still at the otherside, and–”

“He’s not going to know.” I say, and the bafflement on his face. That is, until the corner of his lips edges up.

“Oh, shall I kiss you in front of him, and then, he’ll know.” And my face, is starting to heat up. Kissing Braedon… Infront of all of those people…? And he gives a laugh as his arm hoists to the side of me. “Let’s go, Jules. We don’t want to cause too much suspicion.” And I give a brief nod.

“Ok…”

If you guys are interested in looking into some of the other prompts that I have done from the previous months, check it out here:

#flufftober2023 #day 4 #Braedon #Jules #Braedon and Jules #sorcerer of rune series #SoR Series #fluff #flufftober

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werewolfashton · 4 years ago

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I am going to bed everyone I swear I promise I just. I gotta know. Tell me what you think about mermaids and fairies how real could they be what versions do you like best in stories if you were either what color tail wings kind of magic would you have where would you live what would you eat who would your animal companions be imagine I am saying this all in one big breath okay goodnight!!!!!

THIS ASK!! I'M!! this is my shit honestly the only thing that would get me as hyped are vampires probably (that's a straight up lie any form of fantasy gets me this way)

MERMAIDS listen. i grew up on h2o plötzlich meerjungfrau i would give anything to be a mermaid. and like how much of the ocean have humans actually explored? 20%? i'm unsure but i remember it's a scarily low percentage. there is an actual chance mermais exist and that is the hill i chose to die on

like these fuckers exist

but not mermaids. really. sus. very sus if you ask me.

which version do i like best in stories. oh god. this is to much. honestly any. i do love sirens and i'm still sad they didn't get odysseus' ass but also there's this book called the mermaid by christina henry and it's lovely and then there's obviously the little mermaid and that fairytale is so fucking wonderful i love it

if i could be a mermaid. fuck okay i would honestly fucking love to be a deep sea mermaid so: look absolutely wild, dark black tail and ohhhh scales!! the whole shebang really. loooooong hair. fangs? i didn't find a good picture but i did find this moodboard that i like:

what are nice deep sea creatures i can befriend. okay looked some up and i would like a frilled shark bestie. actually i already have a stuffed shark that i use as a pillow his name is percy so this fits well. otherwise i'd be absolutely happy to be a siren and lure sailors to their deaths i think i deserve to be a little evil

FAIRIES dude. i'm so into fae lore. this opposite to my mermaid obsession is a fairly new thing like only the last couple of years. i'm most familiar with how cassandra clare wrote them and i'm really into that but i did also read a book recently called the little people and it was so nice wait i'll add pic of it too

it's lovely it has lots of illustrations and a short overview over most kinds of fairies (though it is not very detailed it's still pretty cute). and like generally i love celtic stuff so that mythology and lore is really interesting to me but i also love the greek stuff like nymphs, dryads are amaying.

god there are so many different kinds of fae but i think i like anything water-y most? like either nixie or ohh an asrai. okay yes i would like to be an asrai let me add info from the book

like yes i want my own lake and worship the moon thank you very much

also i pretty please want to know exactly what you think about all of this and what you'd like to look like and everything please tell me

#ask #cringeycal #i had so much fun with this #sorry it took me over a day i needed to really think about it #and i didn't have time to sit down yesterday and do this #gonna dream about being a deep sea mermaid now #god i bet it's cold in the deep sea #it's not cold here let me tell you

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yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen · 3 years ago

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Help from an Old Friend - Benny Miller x F! Reader

A/N: Hello! This is the sequel to the angsty little piece I wrote for @kesskirata called Words Unsaid. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Benny Miller x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, angst, mentions of cemeteries and death.

Part One - Words Unsaid

There was something peaceful about death. Your steps were softened by the dew on the freshly mowed grass, the stillness that came walking amongst those who’d passed on. The headstone before you was fresh, the ground beneath only just beginning to grow over with the new seed. The bench beside it is cold like everything else here and you take a deep breath, trying to stifle your tears.

“It’s been a few weeks,” you rub your hands together, “I’m sorry about that, things have been a little stressful.” Your hand shakes when you place it over the tombstone, “Ben would want me to keep visiting each week.” The tears sting your eyes, Benny, your sweet love was still in a coma, it’d been four weeks and with each tick of the clock, your hope of him waking up seemed to seep away.

“He would be here if he could,” you wipe at your eyes, “he’s just sleeping at the moment.” You glance around at the other headstones, the care their loved ones take to keep them clean, and the flowers refreshed. “Maybe you could help me, Tom, help lead him home to me. I bet if anyone could get him to listen and wake up, it would be you. I’ve been talking to him, reading him books, but nothing. I” you stifle the sob, “I just want him back.”

You sit there in your grief, crying over the grave of a dead man, praying in your heart that there won’t be another. “God, you must think I’m crazy. But if you can hear me, Tom, bring him home, please.” With a nod, you put a hand on the top of the stone, patting it twice before walking off back towards the truck. The shrill sound of your phone interrupts the silence and you almost drop it scrambling to get it out of your pocket.

Before you can even get the words out, Will beats you to it, “he’s awake.” Your head snaps around looking back towards the grave and giving him a silent thank you.

“I’m on my way.”

The ward is a flurry of activity when you arrive, nurses, and doctors rush around and you could almost find yourself lost in the activity but one voice rings out louder than all the others. “I don’t want any more fucking tests, I swear to god if you don’t find my girl in the next thirty seconds I am walking out of here!” Benny’s voice rings loud and clear and you push through the sea of people, and run through the door.

It’s almost comical the standoff between the doctor and your love, both of them glaring at one another. “Mr. Miller, you’ve been in a coma for four weeks, we need to do a scan of your brain to make sure nothing was damaged.”

“No!” Benny shouts, “what you need to do is find my girl, I need to see her here before you take me back for any more tests. You don’t understand how bad I fucked up, I need to touch her, she has to forgive me.” Your heart cracks and Will looks away from the situation to see you hovering in the doorway, relief spreading across his face.

“You don’t need to wait anymore, brother,” he claps a hand on Ben’s shoulder, “she’s here.”

The room goes silent, and all eyes turn to look at you but all you can focus on is Benny, his eyes welled up with tears as he shakily holds out his hand, “Baby?” Suddenly, the air is sucked back into your lungs and you cross the distance, taking his hand and pressing it to your face. The room clears until all you can hear is the short click of the door, your body sinking onto the edge of the bed.

“I’m here,” you whisper, brushing the blonde curls clinging to his forehead, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Where were you?” his voice is soft, and he reaches his other hand to pull you closer, foreheads pressed together. “I woke up and you weren’t here.”

“I had to go home, take a shower, eat something and then I stopped and checked on Tom.”

Benny pulls you back, “Tom?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “I thought you’d be worried if you didn’t visit for so long.”

He shakes his head, a smile cracking along his face, “Tom is the reason I woke up.”

“What?” you whisper, feeling him pull you closer, his lips hovering beneath yours.

“I could hear you, baby,” he runs his nose along your cheek, “I could hear every word but I couldn’t wake up. It’s like I was stuck, and then Tom appeared, he looked good, strong. He told me that he came to bring me home, that I wasn’t allowed to join him yet, you were waiting for me and I needed to be there for you.”

The tears splatter his cheeks and he uses his thumbs to brush them away. He swallows before lowering his voice, “I’m so fucking sorry baby, I never meant to hurt you. That girl, it meant nothing, you have to know how much I love you. I’m so sorry,” now it’s his turn to cry, the sob crawling out his throat.

“Oh Benny,” you press your lips to his own, “I forgive you, I love you so fucking much.” He wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his lips latched to your own with as much love and passion that he could pour in. When you pull back, he raises a brow, his hand coming down to rub your neck, keeping you close.

“Promise me,” you urge, “you will never do this again, I need you to take care of yourself Ben. I plan to have a very long and happy life with you.”

He grins, giving you a nod before pulling you down for a kiss, “yes, ma’am.”

#Benny Miller #Benny Miller x Reader #Female Reader #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier Fanfiction #Autumn Writes #garrett hedlund

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phantombs · 2 years ago

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mamoriitai:

The back of her throat runs dry, no longer can she find a witty remark to utter, anything that could cut deep to the bone - she’s tongue tied. There is a deep set panic that penetrates into the bone, the desire to flee without being caught, the air between her lungs stolen as her shoulders lock. “Be with me…?” she mimics the same words, though it’s tinged with an innocence, confusion written on her doll-like exterior, Sayuri wants to shake her head fiercely proclaiming: that’s impossible. It’s terrifying, everything is overwhelming, even if she wears her obligations with grace, there is always the knowledge she is alone but it doesn’t have to be. Her smile always broadens in daylight, the bit of emerald within her eyes sparkling, she likes their banter, the way her temper will flare childishly as she pouts, he’s kind && warm - summer that is everlasting. “I’m not embarrassed! Why would I be!?” She denies it frantically, trying to brush away the truth when her face is a mess, no longer pristine in its manicured features, she looks unbearably human. / Read more.

Uh oh. She's said too much.

Sayuri, keeper of her own rabbiting heart, must read every tremor it stirs traitorously. She should feel how it pulses, how it clamors in her chest, and perhaps, at this moment, how it beats against her ribs — or how it hopscotches madly! And how this tension's gone thick. But why? the question lingers, does it at all thunder this way? And when Cường, this dreamer, regards her in his patience, it’s her answer like deluge that batters down quick. “Fine then,” he startles. “You're right. Maybe I am wrong tonight, actually. Maybe you aren’t embarrassed wanting to be with me at all. Maybe it's here.” The answer’s in your chest! He reaches out, points to it, and, “maybe you're scared.”

Mortified to linger and horrified to want...

"I bet if I touched you now, I could feel it race."

How presumptuous. Preposterous, in fact. He lets that bomb sink feverish, all typhoid in nature, as it boils in the air and swelters at her skin. Curiously and wordlessly, the dreamer’s brows slacken. She dawdles on home, and it wears on him. Oh, no. Even here, stood by the fat begonias thick in their bloom, there lingers the fragrance of the summer sea’s salt. He’s sprung it to memory, perhaps all against her will, for with his constant little visits, he’s bled its scent in her ottomans, and by her once-empty kitchen by her once-empty halls. He smells of citrus, too, the sweet clung to her comforters, and Sayuri, stunned Sayuri, can’t deny it if she tried to: she, like her home, stands steeped in him.

And that? That frightening feeling, mutual (though unbeknownst to her) comes bogged with that wretched sincerity. Worse still, loathe though she might their goodbyes when he leaves, lord knows, they know, he’d stay if she asked... But she, stubborn martyr, had never asked.

“You don’t get it at all. It’s not that I’m a blind man. I see very clearly why you let me stay,” he starts, calm where she all but blathers. Somewhere, dear Mochi scolds her for it. “But you could make a man think he’s somehow suddenly gone deaf. With all the things you don't really tell me, I don't think you can stand and blame me, too.” No. Sayuri bumbles. Her porcelain mask, pretty and crafted over her long, lonely years, begins to shimmer a little more — uncertainly, perhaps. It’s new then, novel, though not odd when it plummets away, the glint of her tears now frighteningly stark. He gives her her moment, her pulse up her throat, and I like you, she startles, quite more than I thought. He takes a little step. She meets him, scared. “Well, maybe I’ve liked you as much I thought I did. So, now I’m asking you," here and tonight, " is honesty, you romantic, so bad a thing?”

It isn’t. No. Stay with me, she hasn’t yet asked, pleaded, whimpered of him, and still, this star-creature yet dutifully lingers. Here, his hand cups her face gone red as a posey. His touch, just like him, bears kind as June. It is, lord in heaven high up above, far, far too much. Still, he spares not his gaze, the weight of them shuddering the earth beneath their feet, and though she stands as fragile as his dreams she haunts, he curls her in closer. Her thumbs her tears.

She shakes out a laugh, her shoulders quivering something frantic.

He’s nursed all her gardens where she’s gone and sprung his.

He kisses her. Cường, rather finished with talking, steals the remaining ramble still crowding the seat of her mouth. No, no – spirits them away, the star-thing hopes. It’s more than a brush, that shy venture of a too-hesitant man, and when he bends down low, cranes far to her humbling height, not a line in his body feels wracked by fear. Warm and gentling, he tastes like his jasmine. He catches the stray sugar off her choice of wine. Hm. “Fine then. Go and be as complicated as you want,” he mutters, grazing the corner of her mouth. He parts by but an inch, and the color of her mottled cheeks greet him. “But try being simpler with what you keep in your chest. You'll keep hurting it until you cry.” He thumbs her tears again. “I know that you do. I could feel you've been terrified. Why?”

#mamoriitai #...cuong is patience #and also impatience #he knows she's lying and has been but that is her comfort zone. shes scared to be honest and be bare #and he will let her pace herself #but seeing her cry bottled up and conflicted is where he hasnt much patience #so... (kisses her like he wants to. but because she asked. and because maybe giving in to what shes been wanting #can be simpler than rambling and nervously confessing)#...oh theyre soft

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justonemorechapternicercy · 3 years ago

Note

If you’re doing the rare pairs thing, Percy/Kronos?

I had this in my inbox for a year, and I'm so sorry for that. 😭

⚠️ Warnings: blow job

Kronos looked down, watching the thick length of his - Castellan’s - cock vanish into Perseus Jackson’s pink lips. Seeing the little hero, the practically perfect son of one of the eldest gods swallowing him, gagging for him flooded him with satisfaction and victory.

He won.

That sensation was glorious - almost as glorious as Perseus' lips.

Throwing his head back to the cold marble walls of Olympus, Kronos willed his body - Castellan's, too young and too virginesque to last long enough - to calm down. The vision of the only heroic son of Aphrodite - always so flawless, a born leader - eagerly sucking the enemy's cock, split running down his chin, face flushed red, was just so delicious. Victory never felt so sweet.

Kronos knotted his hands in the demigod's messy fluff of hair, pulling it, leading Perseus' head where he wanted. Castellan imagined this before, more times than Kronos would be willing to admit, but feeling it was nothing a child like the son of Hermes could have ever imagined.

Kronos lived for a long, long, long time, but nothing could be compared to Perseus Jackson.

The demigod moaned around his cock, like the hungry, insatiable bitch he was, and Kronos was happy to give everything to him. He jerked forward, thrusting his girthy length into that perfect mouth, faster and faster, deeper and deeper. The son of Aphrodite was a drooling mess, and it was the biggest accomplishment Kronos ever felt. "You like it, don't you?" His voice was low and rumbling, nothing like Castellan's naturally higher tone. Fucking Jackson's mouth was something only he, Kronos, the King of the Titans could and should enjoy.

Nobody else. Not even the original owner of his new body.

"If only your mother could see you… I bet she would be proud of you. Her sluttiest son, pleasuring his king," he murmured. Fascinated, he caressed Perseus' red lips that were wrapped around his cock with his thumb, sliding it in. The demigod's mouth was so full, yet, it seemed it was just as insatiable as his mother's.

Kronos looked down at the demigod, the demigod who was in the center of his attention since the first time he appeared, easily defeating a Fury, sent by Hades, believing he was the son of one of his brothers. Even Kronos believed the teen was his grandson from one of his sons, he was so powerful even without training, just to find out he was the son of Aphrodite.

But not the son of the Love Goddess. No, he was the son of Aphrodite Areia, the son of Aphrodite the Warlike.

His sea-green eyes - so similar to Poseidon's, yet so different, as his connection to the sea was different - were looking up at him, lust-blown and wifey almost glazed over by the pleasure he felt for being able to serve his king. His whole body seemed to tremble with excitement as he swallowed Kronos' whole cock, taking all of it down in his throat. The Titan moaned, the slick wet heat of Perseus' mouth made his cock rock hard and leaking. Never in his life he felt like this.

Kronos dug his fingers deep into Perseus' scalp, tugging it hard, making the demigod's mouth into his own. He took what he wanted, and it didn't take long until he was coming, shooting hot spurts of come down Perseus' throat.

Licking away even the last drop of the sticky come, Perseus slid his lips from Kronos' cock. Before he could draw back, the Titan led his head to his tights, making sure the boy would rest. Flushed cheeks met with sweaty tights and Kronos knew there was no way he would ever let the boy go. Perseus' place was there, kneeling in front of him, pleasuring him, being cared for by him.

His hands lazily caressed the demigod's hair. "Who would have thought that the big hero of the Aphrodite cabin is just like his siblings? A whore for somebody bigger and more powerful," Kronos smirked. The boy in his lap froze, but relaxed instantly, knowing Kronos was right.

"There's much that you don't know about me," Perseus quipped back, grinning winningly, showing off pearl white teeth.

"Then I'll have fun finding out all your secrets, my pet," Kronos grinned, pulling the boy to his feet.

Just before he could drag the demigod into a scorching kiss, he felt a sharp pain in his armpit-

And the last thing he could hear was, "Unfortunately, you won't have time to do that."

#percy jackson #kronos #kronos x percy #percy's harem #lemon #pjo ficlet #pjo

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father-time-and-baby-new-year · 4 years ago

Text

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

#attack on titan fanfiction #eren x y/n #tw dubcon #bully eren yeager #bullying #toxic eren #yandere eren x reader #eren x reader

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blzzrdstryr · 4 years ago

Text

Prize of war

Yandere!Morax x water deity!reader

Wordcount: 1459

CW: Yandere, violence, confinement, sexual harassment

The archon war is at its peak, when an oceanid, Periboea, brings sudden news to you - the deaths of Guizhong and sealing of Osial. The former produces nothing but a sly smirk - the Dust Goddess, despite her kindness and wisdom was still a formidable opponent, another competitor for the title of the Seven.

The latter, however, makes you both frown and sigh in relief - the Vortex Lord was your ally, a needed help to fight and defy Morax of Guili plains, yet he also was a future enemy - the grounds of your so called alliance were shaky, unreliable, ready to change at any moment like dark waters you both command.

Now, with him sealed away you don’t have to worry, you don’t have to worry about Osial turning against you, you have to worry about facing the Lord of Rock alone instead.

“Out”, you dismiss Periboea, sensing the forming headache. What should you do? What should you do? With the Guizhong out of the picture it would be easier for both you and Osial to finally overpower Morax and take over the plains if it wasn’t for him being sealed away.

You stay motionless and deep thought for a while, thousands of possibilities appearing in your mind - none of them a clear solution, a path to absolute victory. Suddenly water spirits visit your abode, bowing in both fear and deep respect - Morax has made a new step in this bloody version of xiangqi. You stand up then, gritting your teeth and taking your weapon - war never waits.

With no reckless but also insanely strong and fast Osial by your side, Morax’s power shines in a new light - his presence is felt everywhere, despite his figure still being unseen. You call to the power of the seas, sending wave after wave to look for your enemy, until a voice booms nearby.

Ah.

That’s why you couldn’t see him.

Morax looks pitifully small and weak in his human form - with a razor sharp talons and long serpentine body replaced by the soft mortal flesh he doesn’t inspire usual awe or terror, yet you keep your guard up. He stands on the shore, surrounded by his lackey adepti near some strange machine.

Guizhong was working on that ballista, you realize, focusing your eyes a bit longer.

“[First]”, Morax says, his usually calm voice now gravelly and dead - Guizhong’s passing must have been hard on him.

“Morax”, you reply, understanding his intention - it’s the last battle then.

You start to fight - adepti lunge at you, while their lord stays on the ground, fiddling with the ballista. You keep an eye on him, while carefully evading the blows from his lackeys - they might be lesser creatures, but even a snake can kill a lion, so you keep a distance, slowly but surely approaching the sandy shore.

“Now”, Morax yells, to his adepti, not you. You quickly turn in his direction, alarmed of what he might do next, only to see a bright glowing bolt shooting your way. The time freezes, as you scramble away and somehow you succeed, projectile grazing only a side of you.

“Huh”, you whimper, seeing how the nearby waters turn red from your blood - oh, Morax will pay for that. You will make him pay for that.

“Oceanids!”, you command your servants, voice travelling through the entirety of the seas: “rip Morax’s loyal dogs to shreds”, a thousand of voices echo your war cry, water spirits finally emerging from the blue deeps.

With the loch folk on the surface, the tides of battle turn against your opponents, as you shift your look on the Morax again - he feeds ballista his energy, hastening the next shot - you won’t have it. Focusing hydro energy is easy, forming your own water mimic is even easier.

You send the replica of a great leviathan to Morax’s direction, the volume of water splatters everywhere upon crushing on the shore, breaking Guizhong’s last masterpiece. This prompts Morax to finally face off you, with his spear in hand and fierce amber eyes burning brighter than any star.

“You will pay for that”, he whispers, the dragon evident in each syllable.

“We’ll see”, you taunt, finally taking out your weapon. Your battle looks like a dance, with your moves fluid and flexible, yet fast and unstoppable, like a river flowing in the spring. A laugh escapes your lips, the thrill of the battle getting into your head, so you don’t notice his lackeys disappearing from the battlefield.

“Now”, Morax says again, looking past you.

A blindingly bright bolt flies into your direction - you haven’t destroyed the ballista completely - there's not enough time to dodge.

It goes right through you.

You scream.

Everything fades to black.

***

You wake up in the unfamiliar room, clothed in the unfamiliar clothes and surrounded by unfamiliar things. You can’t sense the call of Celestia, meaning that you’re either outside the Teyvat or in someone’s pocket dimension. This is bad. You almost jerk, but you can't - a burst of pain explodes in your solar plexus upon the slightest of movements.

With a shaking hand you touch your midriff, feel a hastily sewn hole and then you come to a horrifying realization - you can't feel your hydro. A distressed noise escapes you as you caress the injury, a lack of elemental core crushing you better than any humiliation or defeat.

Consumed by your grief for the lost powers, you miss the moments someone enters the room. It’s Morax again - he looks vastly different now, with all hints of his usual bloodlust and cold fury gone, he resembles a kind and wise dragon from the fairy tales human parents tell to their children.

“[First]”, he starts, taking one slow step after another, careful not to scare or enrage you: “I am happy you’re finally awake. You’ve been unconscious for a while now”.

You look at him with angry, accusing eyes, all of your grievances temporarily forgotten: “I can’t believe you did it, I thought you were an honourable person”, he lightly tilts his head, feigning ignorance: “You ripped out my core! I bet you were enjoying every second of it, you sick bastard!”.

“None of that”, he deflects your insults: “your core was destroyed by the ballista, not me. The last projectile went through you and subsequently your core”.

“Well”, you rise from the bed, despite the agonizing pain: “you stole me too! Ballista has nothing to do with this!”

“It’s either that or the eternal seal”, he adopts the patronizing tone and you want to kill him just for that: “with your core gone, I doubt you will restore even a fraction of your power, so sealing you away will be a waste”.

“A waste”, you repeat, remembering that Morax is not only a god of martial arts, but also business and commerce: “What is there to waste? I have no power now, no reason to live”

He wordlessly comes to you after this phrase, his hand touching the bandaged torso, before his amber eyes glance at you momentarily. You know that look, have seen it during the countless battles - cold, calculating and thoroughly fixated - a shiver goes through you.

“I am the one who defeated you”, he finally says, so quietly that even you with your superhuman hearing have to strain your ears: “You belong to me now, I can give you a new reason for living, I can make you accept and embrace it”.

You look at his eyes and the hand he laid upon the injury, fear caused by his words alone paralyzing your whole being. A whole tornado of thoughts appeared in your mind, each one of them anxious, nervous and unsettling.

“You should have expected this”, Morax mutters, noticing the dread that clings to you: “your insufferable taunts and your little tricks, you wanted to be my first thought in the morning and the last in the night, you have succeeded”.

A warm hand cups your face, and you can’t find any comfort in it, as strong fingers pry open your lips. He forcefully kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth, as you desperately battle the panic. Finally you take control of your body back and quickly shut your teeth together, biting him, tasting a coppery blood”.

He leans back, still collected, despite the blood escaping past his lips: “I should have expected this”, he says more to himself than to you and then he shifts his eyes back to you: “Still, I have a lot of time to tame a wild sea beast like you”.

He leans in again, his hand forcing your mouth open with a renewed strength: “Water can take any shape, [First], and I’ll guide you to the shape I want you to be, my prize of war”

#yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere Zhongli #Yandere Zhongli x reader #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin x reader #male yandere #Yandere #my writing #osialish darling

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