#grave-robber x reader

[shockwaifuafterdark]

Beetlejuice would probably sneak awful raunchy t-shirts into your closet, most of which would have implied necrophilia as the punchline...

[capan-deveraux2]

Why do I get crushes on the most obscure characters?

Like Anthony (the angel of death) on Touched by an Angel

Look at this cutie patooti!! How can I not love him!!

Or Chris Halliwell from Charmed

He’s a smart ass and I love him for it! He just wants to save his brothers soul

Or Ambassador Tos from Star Trek Enterprise

THERE ARE NO GIFS OF HIM!!!!

Why are there no GIFs he’s adorable

Or Judge Harry Stone from Night Court

Or Dan fielding also from Night Court (the second guy in the above gif)

Or Jenkins from The Librarians

But to be fair I might just have a crush on the actor

Or Dr Phlox also from Enterprise

He’s a family man!! He got 3 wives and so much love to give, towards the end of the series when he can’t save T’Pols, and Tuckers baby’s life he cries and says it hurts like it’s one of his own. So much love in this man that when his friends hurt he hurts

And he feels insulted when Tucker doesn’t want to sleep with one of his wives after she pursues him so we know he’s good with sharing lol

Or Ringo Langley from X-Files and The Lone Gunmen

(The blonde one in the middle here)

He’s such a sweetheart cutie pie!! How can one not love him! He plays dungeons and dragons and dresses up like his character when he does and writes for a newspaper. He matches my freak lol

Or Graverobber from Repo the Genetic Opera

He’s so dramatic!! I love him. He sings ! And I love his hair!

Or Odo from Deep Space Nine

WHY CANT I FIND A GOOD GIF OF HIM!!!

And finally (at the risk of being called a furry

Why is the no reader inserts for Skimbleshanks, Mr mistoffles, or Rum Tum Tugger!!!

THERE IS NO GOOD GIFS OF SKIMBLSHANKS!!

But look at my boi mistofflees hop and dance, he’s a tuxedo cat that’s also a magician!!

And look a tugger go! He’s a bad boi stereotype

I ran out of room for gifs but those are the main ones anyway

I’m gonna have to make an appreciation post for each of these guys individually, hell I used to write fanfic for a couple of them before I got locked out of my old tumblr account

[ozzgin]

Yandere!Zombie x Grave Robber!Reader

content: gender neutral reader, scumbag reader, monster romance

"The right one will eventually come to you," mother used to say.

Except "the one" never did come. He sighs and turns around in his cramped resting place, glaring ahead. Pathetic, miserable tomb with no one else but him in it.

"Thanks for nothing, mom," he declares bitterly. He can't remember where they buried her, but she must be nearby.

What else is there to do except to rot away? If only it happened faster, then he wouldn't have to deal with his loneliness; he'd be a pile of shiny bones, unconcerned with such philosophical desires.

Suddenly, the unexpected happens: his coffin creaks heavily, door rumbling from repeated, monotonous blows. The hatch gives in, and he squints his eyes, cowering before the flood of pale moonlight.

"Damn it! Nothing valuable." You click your tongue and stuff your shovel in the rustled soil. "I guess this one's been dead for a while. They must've taken everything already."

You stretch your neck over the grave, glancing in one final time. Maybe you can sell the bones for some scraps, after all. Your eyes rest upon the pale man, who almost seems to be alive, staring at you with a gaping mouth.

He blinks.

With a shriek, you throw yourself back, scrambling to get away from the monstrous ghoul. It's not your lucky night, that's for certain.

He swings himself up, his spine nearly collapsing in the process. He hasn't moved in centuries, but this is the chance of a lifetime. Fate's call, one could even argue.

"Wait!" he shouts, lunging at your ankles. "Please, take me with you."

You turn around and notice his lower half must've detached somewhere along the way. You've been dragging him along.

"Ugh, what would I do with a spoiled cadaver? You can't even pull yourself up, man."

You glare at him with mild disgust, but allow him to at least release his hold on you and retrieve his legs. He coughs awkwardly, putting himself back together.

"You try moving after hundreds of years," he retorts.

The zombie scans your face and grins.

"What's so funny?" you bark, shoving your hands in your pockets.

Maybe the right one does eventually show up. It took him a lifetime of waiting, but you’re finally here. His.

He rummages his pockets, frantically searching for something. Finally, he extends his bony fingers and hands you a ring.

“Hmm, I guess I could pawn this off,” you say, inspecting the precious stone.

“No! It’s your engagement ring!” he huffs, closing your hand around it.

Oh, for Christ’s sake.

“Fine!” you groan. “Pick up that shovel. If you’re going to stick around, you might as well help me.”

“Naturally. Come, I know where most of these fellas hid their expensive belongings.

He guides you around with a giddy smile. Does this count as your first date?

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist]

[obsessivevoidkitten]

That's a Wrap!

Kinktober 2024 Day 2: Bondage

Mummified Lich Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader

CW: noncon, bondage, undead yandere, necromancy, graverobbing, mild blood drinking, biting, magic, soul binding, cock warming, overstimulation, controlling yandere, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 1k

(Honestly not my best work. A bit rushed. Smut isn't super detailed. But I hope you guys like it anyway.)

You didn't really think of yourself as a grave robber. Of course not! You were an explorer, a treasure hunter, a daring person who went on adventures into dangerous dungeons! Now, did that sometimes involve liberating certain valuables from the entombed? Sure.

In fact, that's just what you were doing. You had found a map in your travels that had led you to an ancient dungeon in which a long dead king was rumored to be entombed… along with all of his many treasures…

The entrance was concealed deep within a hidden cave. The opening had collapsed, but you had the right equipment for the job.

Though you lacked any ability to naturally cast spells, you did have several one-time use earth scrolls that would allow you to use their stored magic to clear the cave and make sure it was fully stable. Of course, you also had a scroll of teleportation so you could easily leave with the loot and a scroll of healing in case of injury.

You continued until you found a magically sealed door, though it seemed age had weakened it just enough for it to be broken by your enchanted pickaxe. You proceeded through the antechamber and into the main room. 

Strange. Absolutely no treasures filled the room, no artifacts mounted on the walls, no jars, urns, statues, or gold. It was just a plain, pristine room with some glyphs and runes.

But in the center, there were stairs leading to a stone sarcophagus. This was it, the resting place of King Relik. For something containing royalty, it was disappointingly plain. Maybe he was buried during a time of extreme poverty. You knew you were the first "liberator of treasures" though; you had been the one to break the sealed door. 

Well… a bit macabre, but you could still sell the mummy itself if nothing else. It alone would be a mighty fine pay day. Though you held out hope that some valuables remained in the sarcophagus.

You carefully shipped away at it with your pick. At about the halfway mark, it burst open on its own. 

King Relik rose from his 2300 year old prison with a yawn. He was mostly covered in strips of cloth. Upon spotting you, he willed his wrappings to extend and curl around you. 

The wrappings fell from his body, revealing him to have pale grey-white skin, ling black hair, dark rings around his eyes, and a muscular body.

The gauze evidently held spells to incapacitate whoever they bound but were no longer strong enough to hold such a powerful mage-king like Relik. 

You were only left uncovered from the neck up. The now naked former monarch bit your neck and drew blood, sucking only a few drinks from you. 

As he drank from you, he learned your language and your most recent actions and motives.

"Ha! A grave robber. I like you!"

You had no idea that he had been sealed there for trying to conquer the world as an undead lich. They couldn't kill him no matter how hard they tried, so they used the strongest magic possible to seal him away.

And you had broken the last bits of that waning magic. 

He kissed your neck where he had bitten you and cradled you carefully. He summoned up some clothes for himself. It was all he could do with his powers as weakened as they were.

Relik rummaged through your pack and found what he was looking for. The teleportation scroll linked to your nice private home.

How quaint. He never had to resort to a spell scroll before. 

Once at your place, he took the bindings off, laughed as you struggled, removed your clothing, and then re-wrapped your arms and legs.

"I don't really need these enchanted bindings to restrain you, but you look rather cute all tied up like this."

All you could do was make a distressed expression. He ruffled your hair to comfort you.

"Don't worry. It wouldn't be very kingly of me to just dispose of someone who freed me… especially when they have such a delicious expression of fear."

The lich bit his finger so that a drop of blood flowed from it, he put it in your mouth so that you would know who he was and what he intended. His blood power would work both ways, should he will it. 

Suddenly, his intent flooded into your mind. You now knew that from the moment he had tasted your blood, he intended to reward you for freeing him. He liked your personality and slightly questionable morals for wealth.

Your reward would be an immortal lifetime of getting dicked down by him. 

That night alone, he used a spell to make sure you were lubed and ready, then tied you up, and had you in nearly every possible position. His favorite was simply bouncing you on his dick with your hands, bound behind your back. 

Though the magic fabric wasn't on your mouth, its enchantment kept from making all but the softest moans and gasps. Good thing too, thought Relik. Otherwise, you may have damaged your voice.

Only when you literally passed out against his chest from the exhaustion and overstimulation from hours of sex did he finally remove the bandages. Instead, he held you close in his arms and used you to warm his cock as he fell asleep too.

Over the next few days, he would get enough of his strength back to make you magically addicted and dependent on him. This was to ensure you could never leave him.

He also used a spell to make it so you couldn't speak of him or otherwise communicate his existence to other people.

After a few months, he had enough power to tie your very soul to his for all eternity, causing you to become a lich as well. He sealed this soul pact with a magical collar he had you wear.

In every possible way, sexually, spiritually, and physically, Relik owned you. He may have been a mummy when you met him, but you were the one who was all wrapped up and bound. 

[run2min]

SYNOPSIS! Have you ever spoken to Sunghoon? No. Will you ever muster up the courage to speak to him? Probably not. But that’s not going to stop you from admiring him from afar is it? Unknowingly to you, Sunghoon has been admiring you too, will you ever talk to him? That’s for you to find out ;)

GENRE! Basketball player!hoon x artist fem!reader, collage au, strangers to lovers, Sunghoon is so down bad

CAUTION! inappropriate jokes, cursing, a little suggestive, more to be added

TAGLIST! (CLOSED) @nyfwyeonjun @sincerelyrki @woninluv @ckline35 @boyfiejay @lcv3lies @seunnimg @reallyspaghetti @nxzz-skz @jaeyunluvr @sungookie @erehkinnie30 @pkjay @laylasmother @saythenameseventeen178 @hoondiors @angelcob @who-tf-soddhi @skepvids @simjyunnie @bee-the-loser @haechansbbg @leep0ems @moons-v @hoonieluv @jakeyverse @enhastolemyheart @jisungstuff @sasfransisco @wooziswife

STARTED! 31-01-24

COMPLETED! 30-10-24

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹

PROFILES: happy family || grave robbers -Yuj because she’s on a ‘social media detox’ 🤢🙅‍♀️🙅‍♂️

01 | bro

02 | TOMATO TOMATO 🍅

03 || HOW MANY NOTIFICATIONS?

04 || JUSTIN BIEBER MENTIONED 🦅

05 || GET MOGGED

06 || do you ever stfu

07 || your dog has rabies

08 || point and laugh

09 || HAPPY JUNGWON DAY

10 || bye (with rizz)

11 || 💡idea

12 || NO REGRETS 🫡🫡

13 || pop off

14 || Jungwoo looks so fine

15 || but I’m happy happy happy

16 || bro said SHUT UP EUNCHAE

17 || I thought you hated us? I do

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

I was wondering if you could do Mrs Graves x reader, some wholesome romantic stuff. And if its okay, her s/o is younger, not like minor young, but the same age as Ashley?

Certainly wasn’t expecting a Mrs Graves x Reader request but alright!

Renee Graves x Reader

Milfs! Milfs! Milfs! Milfs!

What is there not to love about older women? More experience…hot as hell…a caring demeanor that appeals to your mommy issues

Truly, there are no downsides

And that was your reasoning when dating Mrs Gra- you mean, Renee

“You don’t need to be formal you know…”

that neutral tone broke you out of your stupor. You blinked, having been running on autopilot for most of this outing with the woman beside you. Outing is a strange way of putting it- all things considered this was a date. You still weren’t used to this.

“Sorry!” Your shoulders tensed as you looked at her apologetically, “I guess it’s just a force of habit..”

“Well, break it.” She said so casually- it wasn’t that easy but you’d certainly try, “It isn’t even ‘Mrs’ anymore you know.”

She had you there. Truly a tragic thing that happened to Renee’s husband and children. Apparently they’d all been quarantined in that apartment building a ways away- something about parasites in the water. Renee thankfully hadn’t drank any of the tap water, so she was free to leave. The same can’t be said for her family though. Before you two had begun dating, a fire had broken out in the building- there were no survivors. You had tried to console her, living in the same neighborhood with your family when she moved in. You two had grown close during then…perhaps too close.

Renee patted your hand, her fingers interlacing with yours to break you from your thoughts once again. She sighed, her tired eyes looking into your own with a gentle smile.

“Relax dear…it’s fine, just,” she turned away from you, her smile uneasy, “Try to break that habit for me, okay? I feel like we should be on a first name basis by now…”

You felt your face heat up at her words, deciding to silently nod as you gave her hand a squeeze.

The age gap was certainly a topic amongst your neighbors and colleagues….not much of one though

Now- if Renee was a man, oh she’d be deemed a cradle robber, a creepy old geezer preying on the youth

But because she isn’t an ugly old man and a conventionally attractive woman then it’s fine!

Plus you’re both adults so, where’s the harm

Note you did only- just enter your twenties but it’s fiiinnneeeeee

For as cold as Renee seems, she’s surprisingly soft with you- if not a bit firm at times

She’ll take a napkin to the corners of your mouth while reprimanding you about not eating neatly

She’ll loan you a jacket if you didn’t bring one, all the while scolding you for not being prepared

It was almost- motherly

….yeah you really gotta see a therapist about those mommy issues

[allmyocsarebritish]

A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

[boy-comics]

MONSTER HOUSE!

── .✦ pairing; monster!xdinary heroes x gn!undead!reader

── .✦ summary; it's your first time waking up from the dead. thankfully, you meet six guys who are just as strange as you are.

── .✦ word count; ~2.9k

── .✦ tags; mentions of death, swearing, fluff, found family, unintentionally jooyeon-heavy bc he likes the attention ig, exposition :(

── .✦ a/n; a little post-halloween one shot!!! mostly an excuse to post my monster!xh headcanons which are at the very end. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, but they love reader either way hehe <3

You wake up to a series of dull thuds coming through the ceiling.

It's strange. You don't remember falling asleep. But your head is on a pillow, and you feel soft, hazy, and vaguely numb. Darkness fills your vision when you open your eyes and the only thing that arouses your suspicion is that awful noise from above.

That, and an equally awful, musty smell.

You groan, or at least attempt to groan, as you nearly hack up a lung upon taking in a larger breath. You don't remember living with upstairs neighbors.

… You don't remember much of anything, actually.

You try to wiggle your toes. They eventually do, and then you move on to your fingers, then your arms. With an ungodly amount of effort, you prop yourself onto your elbows—

—and promptly hit your head on the ceiling.

"Ow."

A sudden uneasiness washes over you as you feel the area around you. It's narrow. You can't even stretch your arms out before you hit rough panels of wood by your sides, behind your head, above your face. Your feet hit something equally solid when you try to slide downwards. Then you realize how chilly it is, and then you recognize the smell, and cold shock runs through your entire body as you realize just where you are.

"Hey," you croak, hitting your fists against the lid of the coffin. "Get me out! I'm not dead! I'm not dead!"

And to your surprise, someone answers.

You don't recall when the thuds had stopped. But they return with fervor, and soon enough, thumps give way to the sound of wood splintering, and dreary, grey light shines through the cracks and breaks through the darkness.

You gasp. Chunk by chunk, your coffin lid is torn away, and rain soaks into your clothes as you meet the wide eyes of a young man.

His eyelashes flutter as he stares at you underneath the thundering sky. You stare back.

A shiver wracks your bones.

"Oh," your grave robber exclaims, stretching a hand out towards you.

—

If it weren't for the dirty windows, the peeling paint, the creaking boards, and the overall stench of death and bad luck hanging over the entire premises, you would have felt out of place in front of this mansion.

"It's a lot cleaner inside," Jungsu assures you as he turns the knob, sheepishly giving the front door an extra hard push when it doesn't budge. "Better than a grave, anyway."

"Are you sure it's okay?" you ask again.

He nods, finally getting the door open and inviting you in. "I'll talk to Gunil-hyung, but it should be fine. Everyone will understand. And I'm the one who dug you up, so I feel like I should find a place for you to stay."

A warm feeling blooms in the cold center of your chest. "Thank you."

Jungsu's smile turns shy, and he closes the door after you.

"Jungsu-hyung!"

Someone tumbles down the massive staircase in the center of the foyer. They jump to the bottom and come to a stop before the two of you, panting hard.

You blink.

"Oh, hey," the young man says once he gets a good look at you, a grin crossing his face. "I thought I smelled something new. I'm Jooyeon. What's your name?"

You give it cautiously, and Jooyeon's grin broadens (it's very toothy, you note) before he turns to Jungsu accusingly.

"Hyung, how come you get to bring guests back and I can't? I thought you were just going to the graveyard to eat."

"When you find someone who isn't human to bring back, then you can," Jungsu replies. "And I did go to the graveyard, but I ended up digging them up instead."

"Shit, really? I should've gone this time. I bet we could've found more."

"The mansion would smell like wet dog for weeks if you did, so I think it's best that you stayed in today." Glancing over at you and then himself, Jungsu seems to remember something. "Can you get us some towels? I don't want to track mud everywhere."

Jooyeon makes a face not dissimilar to one a younger sibling would make, but he does as he's told.

"We have running water and heating thanks to Jiseok, so you can take a shower," Jungsu tells you. "And we'll find some extra clothes that you can wear."

"Okay."

When Jooyeon returns with two fluffy towels, he and Jungsu show you to the downstairs bathroom. You have the most out-of-body experience taking a shower, though the waxy soap smells much better than the graveyard, and open the door a crack to grab the clothes left outside for you to dress in.

When you return to the foyer, feeling a thousand times better, Jooyeon is there to greet you.

"Gunil-hyung wants to talk to Jungsu-hyung after he showers, so I get to introduce you to everyone," he explains before you can ask. He sends a wink your way. "Lucky you."

You nod, unsure.

If he's perturbed by your awkward response, he doesn't show it. You follow him up the stairs as he continues to talk. "So do you know what reanimated you? Jiseok was brought back by some weirdass scientist. He was a table corpse, though. Never got buried."

"I don't know. I woke up when Jungsu was digging up my grave."

"Maybe lightning struck it, like in the movies," Jooyeon suggests. "Or you were cursed to come back on the anniversary of your death." He breathes in, humming a low note that rings in the back of your head. "It's weird. Your and Jiseok's death smells are different."

You shrug, frowning as you try to remember details of your past life. It's all foggy. Even your name was something that Jungsu had to show you on your gravestone.

"What are you?"

"Me?" He sounds pleased that you had asked. "I'm a werewolf. Pretty fucking sick, right?"

"I thought werewolves lived in packs."

"This is my pack. Being in one with all werewolves sounds too boring." Arriving near the end of the hall, he turns around to face you. "This is Seungmin's room. Make sure you get to the bathroom before him in the mornings, because he takes forever to shower."

Right at that moment, the door opens. The being behind it clears his throat, and you bite your tongue; if it weren't for the dusky orange fox ears and the two enormously fluffy tails curled around his legs, you would've thought he was human.

"First of all, you know I can hear you, and second of all, you should be taking the time to wash both your forms too," the being says. He spots you behind the werewolf a second later, and his stern expression recedes a bit. "Hey, I'm Seungmin. You're our new housemate, right? [Y/n]?"

You're surprised. "How did you know?"

He sniffs pointedly. "Your scent. I'm a gumiho, so I'm sensitive to that sort of thing," he explains. A beat, then, "Also, I heard you guys and Jungsu-hyung downstairs earlier."

"You should've been down there when they first came in. They reeked of death."

"That's why I stayed in my room. It's always too strong right after Jungsu comes back from the graveyard." Seungmin sniffs again before casting you an apologetic smile. "I can handle it now, though. It almost smells nice."

The way he crosses his arms and leans against the doorway causes you to stutter a bit when you thank him.

Jooyeon whisks you away. "Okay, on to the next person," he says hastily. "Hyeongjun's a hit or miss. I can't smell him, so we'll just have to check if he's in his bedroom."

"Why can't you smell him?" you ask as you stop in front of the door. There's a blank whiteboard hanging on it, and you wonder what kind of situations would warrant its use.

Jooyeon plays coy, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "You'll find out." He knocks on the door. "Hyeongjun! You dead in there?"

The two of you wait a few moments. There's nothing but silence, then you hear the faintest 'just a minute' before the door creaks open to reveal a translucent figure with rumpled hair.

"Sorry, I was asleep," the ghost says, squinting at Jooyeon. His gaze drifts over to you, and he seems taken aback, his mouth parting. "Um ..."

"This is our new housemate. Jungsu-hyung dug 'em up from the graveyard today," Jooyeon explains smoothly, gesturing at you like you're something new and shiny. Maybe you are, in a way that is neither new nor shiny. "Cool, right?"

"I ... guess?" Hyeongjun nods his head towards you, a bit polite but kind nonetheless. "Nice to meet you. I'm Hyeongjun."

You give him your name as well, and he repeats it, giving you a small smile that brings one to your own face.

"Did they meet the others yet?"

"Not Gunil-hyung or Jiseok."

"Jiseok's probably in his lab."

"Yeah, he's been there all day." Jooyeon grabs your shoulders and marches you down the hallway. "Okay, bye, Hyeongjun. On to my room!"

"Bye," you hear Hyeongjun murmur, and you look over your shoulder and wave.

Jooyeon's room is ... very fitting based on what you know about him so far. A stash of opened snacks on the dresser, strategically placed piles of clothes that look like they've been made to sleep in, and a window plastered with crumpled posters of musicians. There is, amusingly, a dog toy on the ground that's been ripped to shreds. Despite the clutter, you find it oddly cozy. It's lived in.

"Don't tell Jungsu-hyung or Seungmin that I showed you my room without cleaning up first." He offers you a half-finished bag of chips, but the sight makes your guts churn oddly and you shake your head. Jooyeon tips the remaining contents into his mouth before tossing it and leading you back outside. "Anyway, let's go to the basement. You've gotta meet Jiseok."

You trail after him to the other end of the hallway, passing Jiseok, Jungsu, and Gunil's bedrooms on the way. There's a door at the very end, and when Jooyeon opens it, you find yourself staring down a very dark, very narrow staircase.

"Scared?"

"No," you half-lie, stepping forward and grabbing the handrail.

"Me, neither," Jooyeon says. Still, you note the way he places himself by your side and remains glued there as you start to descend the stairs. "I mean, it'd be weird to be, right? Since we're the monsters."

Monsters.

You feel strange holding that title. You suppose it's true; all of the occupants of this house, you potentially included, are everything that human society finds frightening and unnatural. If they saw you right now, would their instincts tell them that something is wrong with you? Would they tie you up and burn you at the stake?

"Everyone's scared of something," you mutter, and Jooyeon, surprisingly, is quiet in response.

Upon turning onto the second flight of stairs to the basement, you see a heavy metal door at the bottom. An eerie, green light shines through the cracks.

"Jiseok! Coming in!"

"Wait!"

It's too late. Jooyeon wrenches the door open with an inhuman amount of strength, and immediately, you're temporarily blinded by a bright green flash, followed by a small but concerning boom.

When you open your eyes, Jooyeon is thankfully still standing, scrubbing at his own eyes with a curse.

You look tentatively inside the lab. Everything on the shelves is intact. The only things that seem to have been affected by the explosion are a small conical flask, now black with soot, and who you assume is Jiseok, his face covered in an equally thick layer of soot.

"Shit," Jiseok moans, putting the flask down. "I was this close to the endpoint."

"Ah. Sorry." Jooeyon has the decency to look rueful. "The explosion was cool, though."

Jiseok stares at him blankly. You wonder if you're about to witness a lycanicide before Jiseok breaks into a grin, nodding.

"Yeah, it was pretty cool." Wiping his face with the sleeve of his lab coat, dirtying it even more, Jiseok meets your gaze when you step out from behind Jooyeon, and his eyes bug out. "Whoa, hey, Jooyeon, is that a human? I mean, a fellow human?"

"Nope. This is [Y/n], our new housemate," the werewolf chirps. "Jungsu-hyung found them in a grave. I'm introducing them to everybody."

Visibly relieved, Jiseok raises his eyebrows in delight, and he runs up to you. "No way, you're reanimated too? Do you know when you died?"

It takes you a moment to recall. "Around forty years ago?"

"Oh, that's super recent! It's been around three hundred since my death. Gunil-hyung and Jungsu-hyung have been around for even longer."

"Wait, so that means I'm still the youngest?" Jooyeon says. "Shit."

You snort.

The two jolt in place, staring at you, and the silence that ensues makes you shrink into yourself.

"Sorry."

"No, no," Jiseok replies, a bit loudly. "It's fine—"

"It was cute," Jooyeon adds just as quickly. "Pretty mean of you, though, damn." He doesn't sound upset at all.

"The way you said it was funny," you mumble, and Jiseok heartily agrees, clapping you on the back.

"Hey, guys?"

A familiarly soft voice comes down from above. The three of you tilt your heads back to see Hyeongjun's head popping out upside-down from the ceiling. Although technically not unexpected, you're impressed nonetheless.

"Gunil-hyung wants all of us in the living room. Including [Y/n]." And then he's gone again.

"Sounds like hyung's gonna have us vote on if you can stay," Jiseok comments, offering you a grin. "It's just a formality. You've got mine."

"I've already told everyone you're our new housemate, so you know what my vote is," Jooyeon says.

You manage a slight smile.

In the living room, there are two dark red, velvet couches, an armchair, a glass coffee table, a piano, and a large fireplace. The carpet is soft and lush underneath your feet, and as you sink down into the armchair, you discreetly watch Gunil shepherd most of the others onto the couches. (Hyeongjun, as he is, merely floats nearby.)

"Alright, everyone's here," Gunil announces, clapping his hands. He turns to you, and to your surprise, he nods in a friendly manner. "You've been introduced to the rest of the guys, so I guess that leaves me. I'm Gunil, the oldest one here. For transparency's sake, I'm a vampire, and have been for the past seven hundred years."

Someone coughs. Gunil looks over his shoulder, and you don't know whether to laugh or be nervous when the guys break into snickers.

"... Anyway, I've talked to Jungsu about how he found you, but I think you should also get to tell us your side of the story. So, whenever you're ready."

Biting your lip, you take a breath and do as he requests. It's a short tale, ultimately, from the moment you had woken up to your lack of memories and the coincidental discovery made by Jungsu, who had kindly postponed his hunt for a corpse to eat in favor of bringing you here.

Despite having heard the same story from Jungsu, Gunil listens to you intently, and his eyes are understanding when you meet them upon finishing your story.

"It's hard to adjust to living after death. Most of us have gone through the same thing, so we get it." Putting his hands on his hips, he regards you thoughtfully. "Honestly, the only concern I have is how you were brought back. Something like that doesn't just happen spontaneously. Since you were buried, you can't have been reanimated the same way Jiseok was, so that leaves pretty much one other option. Seungmin," the gumiho perks up in his seat, tails in hand when Gunil addresses him, "you're the only one here who uses magic. It's a curse, isn't it?"

"A curse?" Jungsu blurts.

"It's kind of hard to smell underneath the death, but yeah," Seungmin says. "I don't know why or what the conditions are. It must have happened before they died."

You stare at him, astonished.

Jooyeon pushes Seungmin's shoulder. "Dude, why didn't you say that earlier?"

"Because I figured I would help them feel welcome first before stressing them out! Besides, it's not the kind that spreads."

"He has a point," Hyeongjun pipes up. "Most of us are already undead, anyway."

Gunil cuts in. "C'mon, guys, we gotta focus here. [Y/n]," he tilts his head, "do you feel any compulsions or desires for anything? Do you want to hurt anyone here?"

His voice seems to deepen when he asks you these questions. His eyes peer into yours, serious and unblinking, and your mind feels like it's being peeled open and picked through as you answer.

"No," you rasp, "not at all."

The sensation fades as Gunil leans back.

"Okay, there we have it," he simply replies. "Here's the gist, then: [Y/n] just got reanimated because of an unknown curse, and they need somewhere to stay indefinitely. Let's put it up to a vote. All in favor of letting them stay here?"

Gripping your knees, you watch, terrified and then relieved, as all six occupants raise their hands.

"... Looks like it's unanimous." Gunil grins at you, fangs and all. "Welcome home."

Your face crumples.

Before you know it, you're squished in the center of a very messy group hug, arms and legs and tails tangled up as each of them welcomes you. You're elbowed a couple times, and their voices clash into your ears, and you can barely breathe—

And you feel like, finally, you belong.

—

notes;

gunil; vampire. 700 years old. favorite blood type is ab positive. the others make fun of his age and he can't do anything to stop it.

jungsu; ghoul. 400 years old. he has a favorite graveyard that he visits to dig up corpses for dinner. he doesn't like how dirty his clothes get, though. :(

gaon; zombie. 300 years old. he was a mad scientist's assistant before he got killed and reanimated by his boss in a quest for immortality. jiseok outlived the man and now spends his time on projects like making bees glow in the dark. and fusing animals together.

o.de; gumiho. 200 years old, so he's only got two tails. plans to swear off human flesh for 1,000 years in order to become human. nobody else gets it.

junhan; ghost. 200 years old. he can touch things, but it takes a lot of spiritual energy so he doesn't bother to most of the time. has a whiteboard on his bedroom door so he can let others know not to disturb him when he wants to be alone.

jooyeon; werewolf. 22 years old. left his pack as is tradition when he was a teenager and stumbled across the mansion; never left since. he frequently gets in trouble for trying to bring humans in to impress them.

y/n; in their human life, y/n was, ironically, a disgraced monster hunter. the last witch they put to rest laid a curse on them, which killed y/n four days later.

the curse was that on the 44th anniversary of the witch's death, y/n would be brought back as a new vessel for the witch's soul. nobody in the monster house has a way of knowing this until it actually happens.

when it does happen, it takes the whole group to restrain the witch enough for hyeongjun to possess y/n and throw the witch's soul out of their body for seungmin to capture.

realistically, once the witch's soul is destroyed, y/n's soul would no longer be chained to their body and they would finally be put to rest.

(but my heart says that y/n lives happily ever after with xh :))

[qierxing]

Determination

A/N: Finished the LaDs story if you couldn’t tell. If you asked what came over me to write this, I could not tell you because truly I think I was in a trance because I’m not exactly a Sylus stan Yan! Sylus/Qin Che x Reader Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest. CW/TW: Dub//Con touching, Manipulation, Power Imbalances, Disability issues, Unhealthy relationships, Obsessive behavior, Reader is not in-game MC but MC is referenced and reader is lowkey Longing(THEY HAVE TWO HANDS OKAY), kind of Alt! AU following the storyline

—

From the moment you were born, your life had been planned out to the end.

You would grow up, become useful, and then once you lost your usefulness; be ushered to handling petty things to earn your right to exist, and then you would die. Just like everyone else in the N-109 zone. Cremated or dissolved, of course. No one is dumb enough to leave behind evidence or traces, or even worse, parts for grave robbers with no morals and a penchant for quick gold. That was simply the circle of life here. 

Your future had been set in stone as soon as your father had settled here. On some particularly trying days, you resent him for it. Other days, you know enough that he had no choice. 

“Is the old man in?”

The voice makes you tense reactively before you relax, recognizing the familiar low cadence. 

“He’s out on an errand, should I pass on your message?”

The leader of Onychinus and your boss by proxy, shakes his head. You didn’t bother to ask twice. Your focus once again is drawn back to the shiny red protocore on your desk. It’s a tiny thing; requiring meticulous care, lest it be shattered by too much pressure. 

“Is there something I can do for you while you’re here then?” 

A shuffle, then several clinks in your hearing peripheral. He must be looking through the backlog or the recent projects. It’s a habit whenever he felt restless and after some time, you learned to push down the feeling like your work was being dissected bit by bit by his intimidating eyes. 

The prolonged silence makes you forget your own question, too engrossed in the protocore in front of you. When Sylus speaks again, a tremor runs though your hands and make you almost lose your grip.

“What do you think I should do with a kitten that keeps hissing at me?”

You look over with wide eyes. Of course, there can only be one thing he’s referring to–the fact that the Onychinus’s leader is in possession of a valuable asset is not a secret. An outsider, of all things, too. Some would shake their heads in pity, others would sneer and say she had only herself to blame, and even more would only care once her dead body was laid bare and the aether core in their hands.

To you, though? You thought she was amazing. 

She was like the chivalrous heroes in the few scrappy picture books your father had. Dashing, fearless, and always fighting for justice. What was it like to be a hunter? You’ve never seen her, yet you daydream constantly about the life she led, and how you wished it could be yours.

“I feed some stray cats here and there. They usually warm up once they realize I’m not a threat and I’m trying to help them.” The sincere advice has him snorting in cynical disbelief. 

“And if that kitty still shows their claws?” You shift uncomfortably at the way his voice dips. When he was angry, Sylus was terrifying. But he wasn’t angry, not yet, and you wish you weren’t the factor that could change that right now.

“Usually time will do its work.” You try to sound casual, but you can feel Sylus’s eyes piercing through you. You try to swallow the saliva clogging your mouth. You don’t want to imagine what kind of methods the boss would utilize to make people talk. You distanced yourself from such violence, even if it was naive and stupid to do so. Still, there was a clear difference from self-defense and actively inflicting violence. The twins that shadowed Sylus made that crystal clear.

“Hmm…if you say so.” The heavy gaze lifts off of you and it’s like a weight lifts off your throat, letting air back into your lungs. 

Another few seconds pass in silence, with you praying for nothing else of note will happen.

”The old man told me that you’ll be benched soon.” 

The pointed sentence makes your hands freeze. The bright gold protocurve gleams in the dim workshop, and for a moment, the blood rushing your ears is all you can hear. 

“I’ve been unable to keep up with the workload, sir.” You keep your eyes firmly fixed on the ruby red core, forcing your hands to keep moving while you modify the curve. “I don’t think I can be any more help to my dad.”

Not entirely a full lie. You’re not sure if it’s because the rough and tough life of N-109 is wearing you down like sandpaper or if it’s your body collapsing in on itself due to its condition, but most days it’d be a miracle if you could get one modification done without mistakes. 

One time when you were still an immature child, you disobeyed your father and snuck out of the house during dawn. Your life had always been the pitch black of night, with the brightest natural light being the moon and its silvery clouds wrapping around it like a translucent shawl. When you asked your dad what happened when you slept, he simply stated the moon also went to bed. So then, what exactly happened while it slept?

The sun was blinding. It seared you to the bone as the heat increased with the hours passing and it rose above the horizon. It was so hot, yet you could not help but feel at peace, as if the rays were cleansing you. The landscape under its light was depressing as usual; metal scraps and rusted junk scattered and embedded in dull colored dirt and rocks. This much didn’t surprise you, but it still reminded you of the bleakness of your world. 

It made you feel helplessly trapped.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you talk to me?” 

You blink once, then twice at Sylus standing in front of you, with an unreadable expression on his face. He had stated it as if it was common sense to bring up a grievance with him. As if he wasn’t the most terrifying power within the N-109 zone. As if you and your father weren’t subject to his whims.

”I…I’m sorry,” your eyes cast downward in guilt again. You wish your boss was as evil as some of the rumors make him out to be. It would make things so much easier. “I just didn’t think you need to be bothered with something this trivial.”

If possible, the expression on his face sours even more. “One of my researchers is not trivial. You help me, and I help you.”

You bite your tongue. Of course he was practical. It is true. Without you and your father, he would lose a quarter of his manpower in tech. But this just hardens your resolve even further. 

“Thank you for your concern, sir,” you plaster a sickeningly polite smile on, straining to keep the facade of a lackey who was happy to live another day. “But it’s alright—even if I can’t directly assist my father anymore, I can find other ways to be helpful.”

Why you were significant enough as a cog in his many machinations is still plain weird. But that doesn’t matter. Soon enough, you won’t be one if at all.

Sylus gives a bark of harsh laughter, startling you and making you drop one of your tools. Your skin crawled, but you willed yourself to stay calm, to maintain a calm demeanor that belied none of your true thoughts. It had been the only thing you kept from the many street smarts of N-109 when you grew up. 

He reaches out his hand. His evol wraps crimson red smoke around his outstretched fingers, and when it clears, there’s a slip of crinkled white notebook paper. Your heart immediately plummets into your stomach.

”Are you sure it’s not because you finally found an out to this hellhole?”

You hadn’t fully realized it, but you’re no longer sitting, and the next thing you know, the world has flashed into white and ringing. You’re no longer even thinking at this point, running on pure adrenaline and instinct. Sylus may be the one running the show, but even he couldn’t know all of the labyrinth of secret exits this workshop had. 

You got exactly ten steps in the direction of one before your face met the concrete floor. You don’t need to look to see what’s pinning you down. It’s almost insulting, but most of all, it’s aggravating to know how close freedom was in reach, only to be stopped short of it.

“You really thought something like that could stop me?” Sylus’s voice drawls above your struggling body. You’re wrenched up to stand in front of him, arms held up like a crucified deity. He fiddles with the now broken protocore in his fingers, turning it this way and that, so that the dim lights caught the cracked grooves and threw reflections on the grungy walls around you. Finally, he drops it and with a crack, his polished shoe has grinded it to nothing. “Well, it’s certainly a novel idea.”

You don’t bother to say anything, but a sob nearly wells up, just barely held back by clenched teeth. You were so, so close. Now you’ll never know what it felt to be in bright city lights and live a normal life. 

“I thought it was clear that the only place you had was by my side.” Sylus clicks his tongue, tilting his head. You’re forced forward, and then your head was buried in his shoulder as his hands found their way onto your waist, tight and unyielding. The acrid smell of gunpowder and alcohol from his ironed button up makes your nose wrinkle and although you try to turn your head away, one of his hands presses your head even closer. “I should’ve known better that you would get your hopes up when that hunter came.”

Hot breath ghosts your neck, sending goosebumps up your skin, and before you could stop him, his teeth are buried inside tender flesh, making you cry out in pain. Your struggling starts up again, but Sylus doesn’t acknowledge it, instead lathering a lithe tongue over the wound, causing pleasurable shivers up your spine. 

“Then, if you want to leave so badly, how about you stay with me?” he whispers with a tenderness that makes your head spin.

No matter how much you want it, you could not fight the fate that was set for you.

[wailing-bunny]

The Price of Kindness

Blade with language barrier <3 (I researched the Chinese phrases but if they're not accurate I apologize!)

☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂

Dark Content Warning!

Contains: Blade x gn Reader, Kafka (mentioned)

Warnings: yandere, NSFW, non-con, murder, violence (I mean it's Blade come on)

☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂~☂

You made the grave mistake of meeting Blade.

And an even greater one, you made the mistake of being kind to him.

It was all you could think about, as your tears fell like raindrops, dirtying the bloody mattress even more.

He didn’t pay any mind to your cries, however. In fact, you almost felt him going harder, moving faster, as he grunted like he was the one in pain.

You didn’t want to think about it, you didn’t want to remember that hellish day that you met him, but it was really all you could think about at the moment. If only… maybe… if you had done this instead of that… or that instead of this…

Or maybe, the best result would’ve been never meeting him in the first place.

You were strolling in the Luofu, glancing around the place in awe as you admired the ship you've wanted to visit for a long time. You had gone to a few stores, tried a few dishes you were dying to try, and now you were taking a stroll in the streets you admired so much.

Normally, people prefer places like Penacony for travel, and a few people had told you that the Xianzhou Luofu isn’t exactly all that touristic, and that you would have trouble understanding their language. But you didn’t care! It was your dream, and right now, you were standing in the middle of your dream, a happy face on your face.

Until you were caught up in an emergency, where you were cornered into a wall.

“Blade…”

You hissed in pain. “At least be a bit more gentle… “ You begged.

Of course, he didn’t listen. As if he couldn’t even understand what you were saying.

And to be honest, you couldn’t understand him either.

A man, trying to rob you, cornered you into a wall. He was saying things you couldn’t even understand. But it was clear he was a robber.

You cried as you tried to explain to the man that you didn’t have anything valuable with you. And the man, instead of understanding you, started to get violent.

Just as you were ready to accept your destiny, and regret your choice of coming here,

You heard the sound of a swift blade.

Cutting through delicate skin, and not even letting the victim scream.

You were shocked, scared, hesitant, happy? You just hoped he wouldn’t kill you too. You fell to your knees, looking at the dead body now laying limply in front of you.

You should’ve screamed.

You really should’ve. But even that wouldn’t have saved you.

“Shh.”

You looked up. A man with black hair, and eyes as sharp as a blade, was glaring at you, with a hand on his mouth, urging you to not speak, or scream.

You stood there confused. Not knowing what to do, but you obeyed. Scared for your life, so you obeyed.

A shushing sound, you’re all too familiar with, was heard. And just like before, you bit back your words, and closed your mouth, trying to muffle any sound that could be audible.

Because just like before, you were scared for your life.

At first, he was really intimidating, but after realizing he had saved you, you started to grow less weary of the man. Even inviting him to a café you saw on the way.

He gave you a look, not speaking, or making any move, as if he was judging you. You stayed there awkwardly, before remembering.

He probably doesn’t understand you.

So you quickly open a translating app, and show him your phone with a smile. Perhaps you were too calm for a person who just saw someone get murdered, by the person right in front of her, but you didn’t care. You were a bit lonely, to be honest. And although weird, he looked like a handsome gentleman.

Though, after seeing your screen, his expression did not change. He just glanced at the screen, before turning his attention back at you. He huffed, a frustrated sound.

And with that, he turned around and walked away. You frowned. How mean.

Just as you too were about to turn around, you heard a sound.

“Lái.”

You tilted your head, not understanding, before he made a beckoning motion, and you gasped, now starting to follow him with a smile.

“Bì zuî.”

He grunted. You yelled in frustration that you did NOT understand him, but when he gripped your hair and yanked harshly, you got the memo and stopped talking.

But he continued to pull as you sobbed, now growing more frustrated. What did he want you to do? You whimpered in pain, and misery, feeling hopeless. You wanted to go back home… You wished you had never came to the Xianzhou Luofu. You wished you had never talked with this weird man. You wished you had realized that the wanted posters among the galaxy had his face on them.

You shared a meal with the man. Although you couldn’t understand each other, you still tried your best to show him your appreciation with the translator on your phone.

He himself, didn’t talk much, nor react. But he wasn’t glaring at you with such hatred anymore. Maybe he wasn’t even glaring in the first place? That may be his natural expression. You weren’t sure.

Regardless, it was fun. And he was a good listener. Even when you stopped talking, thinking you bore him, he urged you to continue talking.

You eventually came to the conclusion that he was just bad at expressing his emotions. You were happy to make a new friend though.

After the little date, he even invited you to his house.

But you didn’t know, that you would end up being kidnapped by the Stellaron Hunters instead.

A slap brings you back to the present. A harsh one too. You yelp in pain, furrowing your brows and looking at him with a confused face.

He looked…less feral now. Less like an animal. He was panting, still glaring, but his expression was softer now. Less like wanted to kill you by ravishing your insides.

He did the latter anyway though, you were so tired, you barely felt him pull out. You finally could breathe.

You tried to roll over to rest more comfortably, but the smell of your own blood covered in the sheets, and the pain of your open wounds brushing against the surface made you whimper in pain.

Which you quickly regretted, when you felt his eyes lock on you again. He was about to grip your wrists again.

“Bladie, let them rest, will you?”

You heard her voice, and breathed a sigh of relief. Blade tsked before getting up, and leaving with the lady who was chuckling in amusement.

You closed your eyes, finally happy to be able to get some rest. You heard his voice among their distant talk, something catching your attention.

“Maybe it wasn’t too bad of an idea, after all…”

And you opened your eyes in shock when you realized.

[darlingofvalyria]

An abandoned church made most of broken wood and whimpering winds becomes a momentary resting sanctuary for Uhtred and his men— Osferth finds himself with a crooked root in the shape of a hand, a gold ring, and a full, blue moon.

╰┈➤ PROMPTS ❝ COCK WORSHIP, ORGASM DENIAL ❞

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 2,830 ] [ masterlist ] | Osferth x Ghost Bride!Reader

contains— smut, fluff, angsty-ish - corpse bride!au - this is not the N word okay, you're a ghostly being that becomes corporeal. it's monsterfucking, not that kind of filth - no use of y/n - mentions of christianity lol - dillusioned!reader (if you know the movie, you know) - mention of character death - nsfw: sort of dubcon, smidge coercion, cock worship, orgasm denial(?) - no betas.

a/n— ok, but i am actually very proud of this one!! i enjoyed writing this way too much, adding a bit of comedy aspect to it shdhs. i hope you enjoy it!! oh, also this is the vibe you want if you wanna listen. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

His pack rests behind him, the couple of bundled furs he uses for bedding has hardened into the cold ground, not at all aiding his sleep. Around him, his lord and the rest of the men had managed to fall into their dreams, almost as soon as they closed their eyes.

Even Finan, with a furrow in his brow and his arms crossed, has his head tilted awkwardly to one side that Osferth knows is going to be painful in the morning.

But sleep evades him, and though he scarcely believes in ghosts, resting in a church, no matter how abandoned, no matter that there's gaping, charred hole that has blown over the side of it, trickling the cold, winter winds and soft, wet snow— it feels odd.

It brings a restlessness and a comfort all the same, and with a few minutes more of staring at rotting wood and broken awning, Osferth sighs. Their small fire is dying, might as well get more dry sticks.

The church, though broken and ruined, offers warmth. Once he's out into the wintry night, the pale moonlight bright and full, glittering the wisps of fluffy snow as if you don't come out wet if you sink on it. It's cold. Much too cold to walk, to linger, but he continues. He winds to the other side, leisure in his pace, breathing in the cold whilst warming his hands with his mouth.

It's nice to find a rhythmic motion that empties his thoughts. It is nice to be out of Wessex, out of familiarity. Uhtred brought with him adventure and battle, honour and excitement. It quieted the wrought in his head... until night comes, and Osferth is left with the weight of all those he tries to bury.

He walks quite a bit, observing and carries a faint sadness for a few graves that are left. Some opened, unearthed by grave robbers, uncaring of the Christian faith. Wooden plaque holding no names, just crosses. He moves past, finding himself entering the forest before he could think through it until he comes across a clearing. It's surprisingly, perfectly circled, trees at the side adjusted like soldiers with a curled root at the centre.

Curious and kind of awed at nature, at the wonder of the existence this little tree root, curled and cold, he dips one knee as flutters his fingers over it. The thin spindles look like curled fingers, a hand reaching in a hooked angle.

When he pushes his hand forward, curling his fingers against the root, Osferth makes a surprised hum at how fitted, how perfectly it holds like a hand against his.

Osferth doesn't notice you, dancing between the shadows and moonlight. Hit by light and you fade with it, more air and light yourself than life and physical flesh. You had seen him and his men find the scarred church and setup camp. The four men had not been the first to find the abandoned place, nor had taken refuge.

And time is everlasting when you're dead. Meaningless when there is no end to days and nights.

But he is different, you muse, watching him unable to sleep and walk and walk until he reached the clearing and your cold, dead heart feels a tug.

Does he know you? Is that why he is so different?

You slink between trees, hiding behind a trunk as you watch him kneel where your body lies, curious and awed, watching as he holds your hand, curling his fingers around your own.

Your left hand flexes, a surprised giggle falling from your lips and disappearing with the wind as you feel his warmth. His hand as if he is holding your own. Human touch fades from memory in a span of time and it is a pleasant hold.

Look down, you try to say, excitement you've never felt before, thrums through your body. Look down and see the ring!

If he does, you know do not need to know who he is. You know who he will be.

Look down, look down, look down! Please! you are practically screaming, jumping in the shadows as his eyes, beautiful blue like your favourite butterfly, is entranced by the glint underneath the snow. You hold your hands to your chest. Oh, please! Please, Please look down!

You exhale, feeling life sweep back into your mouth. There. There you are, you say soundlessly as he picks it up. A gold band worn with age but gold it still is. He twists it around, and though others have tried to steal it, pocket it and sell it, you know he is different. His warmth is different. There is kindness in his eye that you like.

And God, is he pretty. You would not mind at all being his bride.

You're on one knee, now propose, you say, willing the vows of old and binding to reach his ears. He twists it and as if playfully entranced, he mutters the words that you echo back in the shadows.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows," Osferth murmurs, the words he's listened once as a young boy, hearing the priest anoint two lovers who had escaped to bond their love. "Your cup shall never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness."

He raises the ring and places it on your crooked, dried fourth finger— and you inhale air, wintry and cold and so, so alive for the first time in a very long time.

"And with this ring," he says.

"I ask you to be mine," you finish, startling Osferth as you glide toward him. Triumphant. He stumbles, falling on his bum as your arms widen around you in all your ghostly bride attire and glory. "My love! I have waited for you for such a long time. Good thing the ice and winters have been kind to my body and you still manage to find it!"

Though in truth, you had plowed against hard ground to at least unearth your left hand while most of your body had been abandoned. Your skull had cracked in three places, and there's a worm who made a permanent home in your dried liver. But your new husband does not need to know that.

He gapes at you, wide eyed and unblinking, and just as he starts you yell? Shriek— You stumble to him, falling on his lap as you press your hands against his mouth. When you don't pass through him, you let out an excited shriek.

"Oh, my apologies, I don't mean to scare you!" You pout, aged old sadness wisps beneath your eyes. "Please don't scream, my love. I have waited for you for so long. And you're so warm... and so real."

As shock permeates his face, frozen under the feel of you pressing against him— there is weight, he can feel you. You're not as warm as him, cold in fact, and he is able to see through you if his eyes adjust well enough. But you are there. He can see you and he can feel you. Your wide, unblinking eyes drinking him in, exuberant smile composed of pretty lips and a mesmerising happiness. Your hair cascades around a ruined, fluttering veil with dead flowers atop your head.

But by God, you are beautiful.

Your wedding dress— because you are a bride, are you not? Were a bride, Osferth's head is starting to ache from trying to look through and at you — are in tatters and holes, showing more of your skin than what your dress initially thought to show and he swallows. He can see a creamy thigh exposed through a slash. It doesn't help that you're bent over, resting between his legs, and he can see the top of your breasts.

On your end, your hands are just there, on his face, and you start exploring his pretty visage. His warmth is addicting, gliding your fingers through his nose and pretty cheekbones, tickling yourself on his lashes with the pads of your fingers and you giggle. The sound makes Osferth exhale shakily before you are cupping his sharp jaw and your fingers touch his lips, your own mouth turning into an 'O'.

Oh, they're soft and a little chapped, a little cold, but his exhale entrances you. His show of pure, breathing life is tantalising.

You lean in closer, nearly touching his lips with your own as you try to inhale his air. He smells of smoked meat and dried ale. Winter woods and burnt campfire. Your hands drift from his mouth to his neck, to his chest. His heart. There in your palms, you press tight. A quickened heartbeat nestles beneath and you exhale, smiling ruefully.

"My husband." Osferth's eyes widen at the pure adoration and lust in your gaze. "You are wonderful. My wait is worth it."

"Hold on, l-lady." He captures your hands in his, eyebrows furrowed. He swallows as he can feel you both corporeal and wispy. If shadows can be held, he thinks it would feel like this. "H-How am I your husband? Sorry, I've— I don't even know your name!"

What's more is that you're a ghost! But something in his head tells him not to speak aloud such a thing, for another, he isn't sure he hasn't fallen back in the encampment with the others. A bizarre dream of a very pretty, ghostly bride is for one an embarrassing topic to broach.

"Oh. That's right!" You giggle happily, offering your name and Osferth tests in his tongue. A pretty name for a pretty bride. "What's yours? Though, I'm afraid I prefer to call you husband, and would prefer to be called your wife. Or 'your love'."

At another helpless, tinkling laughter, Osferth blushes. Your eyes are distracted by the colour in his cheeks, so long ago contained your own but no more, that you take your hands from his and start petting the rosy tint again. He's so warm that you start nuzzling into him, your head burrowing into his neck.

"O-Osferth." He clears his throat to get your attention. "Osferth, lady."

"My wife."

"Sorry?"

You start to pout. "Call me 'my wife'."

Osferth starts to shake his head. "Lady, I really don't—"

"I am your wife now. See." You sit up, pointing back to your dead hand, gold ring glinting under the pale moon. "You've made your vows and given me the ring. We're married now." Your gaze darkens, your form shimmering and Osferth yelps as you had gotten ice cold. "You have made your vow, Osferth. Are you telling me you do not honour your vows? Are you a man without honour? Is there another... woman?"

Your hands on his face sharpened, like ice, digging through his skin as iff trying to embedded yourself into his skull. He cries out, taking your wrists.

"No, no! I— yes, I am your husband now. I am. There is also no other woman!"

You cock your head, still frowning. "Are you sure?"

"I'm wearing monk's robes, lad— wife," he says helplessly.

"But..." You cock your head to the side. "You don't seem too shock of a woman's body. You're very responsive to me, my love, I enjoy it quite so."

This time, he blushes deeply. "I— Goodness, okay. I've had practice... s'all."

"With... whores?"

He cringes, waiting for you to turn mad, pure ice cold and tear through his skin like you almost did, but you only hum when he nods.

"That is alright. That presents more of a challenge than an obstruction of our love."

"Challenge?" he asks as you gently push him on his back, straddling his hips. You slide your palms up and down his torso almost as if he is a campfire and you are warming your hands.

He swallows at your confident grin before you blow him a kiss and he exhales a laugh, his mind truly unconnected from his body because there is a ghostly woman on top of him, adoring him with flirtations, and he is stirring in his pants.

Truly, he must be deep asleep, in a more awkward position than Finan.

If I am, he thinks watching you with a blossoming attachment. Please, by God, don't wake me.

With a seductive intent, you slide down from his body, making sure you pay a special wiggle in his tenting manhood that he feels a lightning bolt from his cock to the ends of his nerves. He doesn't truly understand what you intend until you've unlaced him and paying special attention to his now, semi-erect appendage.

Osferth is red and sputtering, unable to find the strength to stop you.

You get your face impossibly close to his manhood, your unbridled attention makes his cock inflate until you test a teasing finger from beneath, circling his balls, up and up until you tease the slit and his hips jolt.

"G-God, Oh goodness," he spits, white knuckling his woolen coat. "Please do something. D-Don't just—shit." You test a tongue, laving the underside of his cock until pearly white essence beads from his slit and you lick it experimentally. It tastes salty, inexcusably human and alive, and you decide you like it, especially when you watch Osferth writhe, unable to decide what to do from such teasing little touches.

"Good thing for you husband, your wife made sure to serve a keen listen to gossiping wives behind the church after mass. Well before the raid burnt it all down." You got yourself comfortable between his thighs, loving how snugged you fit against his warmth here, as well as having a beautiful of view of your Osferth. "They spoke salaciously of what keeps their husbands to their beds."

You give him a wink as you enclose your hand on his cock, giving it a firm tug and he chokes. "To keep the whores away." You start slow and teasing, wanting to see what movements pleased him the most, what made him sigh and groan, jolt, hips chasing the feeling of your hand that started to warm and get wet, both from his excitement and the teasing licks you give.

When he started panting, you took your hand away. His head bobs back adorably at you, frowning. "W-Wife? Wha—" But you don't let him finish, sitting up on your hunches as you replace your hand with your mouth, feeling the stretch as he throws his head back again, neck arched. It doesn't hurt, momentarily uncomfortable as you test the feeling of it, the weight now so full in your mouth before you start moving up and down, eased by the slick and guided by his pretty sounds.

And Osferth has been on the brink of peak multiple times, but you kept stopping or slowing midway. At first, he surmised it must be your first time, unused to a man in your mouth but eager to give him pleasure, which he can't help but feel deep fondness for.

By the third peek he's been deprived off, and the little smirk playing on your lips, he realised the truth. But your mouth is a different story. It's hot and heady, just like a real mouth and his stomach is clenching, his pleasure tightening that he's got tears in his eyes, apologising as his hips chase his high in your throat but by the rumble that rocked his cock, it seems as if you were trying to tell him it was okay.

When you started massaging his stones, he was gone. White hot pleasure broke behind his eyelids that he grabbed your head, your veil and hair, dead flowers falling into light as he came, hips stuttering, before holding you down until the last drop of his spend is in your mouth.

He releases you with apologies, chest heaving with tears in his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, lady, I— inexcusable." He stared gently cleaning your face, unable to realise how much more solid you had become, how much more colour bled in your ghostly blue.

But as you sit back up, you're grinning, unmistakable pride in your gaze as he wipes the corner of your mouth tenderly. You take his fingers before he wipes it on his trousers, coated in him, and licks them clean, sucking hard with a little giggle.

"Good boy," you say. Osferth shudders, his cock already painfully stirring once more.

The Lord have mercy on him. Were there ghostly vixens? Did he marry the only ghostly vixen?

He can't say he's too mad about it.

"Hmm. So that's what it tastes like. I think I like it." You smile, rubbing his thigh. "I also think we are going to have a fruitful marriage, sweet Osferth. What we only need now is one thing..."

He blinks at you. "Hm?"

"Death, my love." You blink back at him owlishly, snapping the dagger strapped to his side. "How can we stay together when one of us breathes?"

Christ, I already have an idea for part two...

[pyr0-kai]

Graverobber x Reader

Repo! The genetic opera HCs

I’m thinking about my stinky drug dealer man again

Platonic & romantic HCs

Feedback is appreciated

————————————————

- You’re his tag team Zydrate collector (robber)

- He has never felt genuine affection, only affection from the people in the ally who just want a zydrate hit

- He’s lived in a literal dumpster so he is sooooo excited when you offered for him to stay at your place

- When his hair is down, pls give him head scratches, he’ll love it

- Cuz he’s lived in a dumpster so long, he sleeps in a tight ball, it looks so uncomfortable.

- He knows all the best spots to hid from repo men and geneco guards

- He would empty his big jackets pockets and let you wear it >>

- He would also steal stuff from the bodies as gifts for you, stuff like rings, necklaces, jackets

- Feel like he would like to be called his name, Graves, or Babe, not a fan of stuff like sweet, or honey

- He 100% puts his feet up on tables, it’s your choice to tell him no or not

- Going with him to see shilo <3

- Shilo low key loves you, she doesn’t want to lose either of you like her family + Blind Mag

- Graves isn’t a very PDA man, but he will wrap an arm around you if people get a little too close to you

- Wrapping your arms around him when your jealous >>

- You and Amber Sweet giving each other the stink eye

[dw19791967]

That Feeling Part 3

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual), OFC Tyler

Y/N POV and Dean POV

Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, unwanted kissing, depression, anxiety, and feelings.

Trigger Warning: This fic contains discussions of depression and anxiety and feelings that go along with those. If that could be triggering for you I would skip out on this one. It is based on some experiences I have had in real life.

*All mistakes are my own!

I'm back (kinda) here's part 3. I'm thinking possibly two more parts. Let me know what you think!

-Layla

*I do not own this gif

Y/N’s POV:

It has been 5 months since one of the worst nights of my life. I started therapy and have been doing a lot better. It was kinda weird at first talking to someone about my life issues and past traumas, I spent a lot of time just sitting there trying to figure out what to say, especially since I can’t mention anything about hunting. But overall it’s been good. I’ve been taking better care of myself, spending more time with the boys, mostly Sam. Dean has been distant lately but I figured it was because he has spent so much one on one time with me the last few months. Sam has helped me start exercising daily (even though I hate it with every fiber of my being). I’ve lost around 10 pounds which is great considering I still eat a ton of take out. I’m starting to feel like my old self again. I took a break from hunting and started writing, that lasted a hot minute before I was tired of staying home. 

Being back in a routine was good, I feel good.

We are on the road currently Sam caught a case about missing bodies. One of my favorite things. They think I’m weird for enjoying the quiet of cemeteries, but I know it’s because the dead are easier to deal with than the living some days.

“Ok, we got four missing corpses. Gladis Bramford was the first, mid 80’s when she passed. They found her head a few counties over, still missing the rest.” Sam was typing away on his computer.

“Who the hell takes a head only?” Dean had a grossed out look on his face.

I laughed.

“Evidently someone had big plans, poor Gladis.” I poked Dean in the shoulder.

Sam rolled his eyes. “The strangest part was her eyes were replaced with red glass, they haven’t been able to figure out which funeral home she was housed at before entering her final resting place.” 

“So what do we think, grave robbers, ghouls, demons?” I asked Sam.

“Not sure, we will have to see after we check the head out.” 

_________________________________________________

Sam went to check out the head while Dean and I looked over the case files.

“You doing ok sweetheart? I know I haven’t really checked in on you lately.” Dean looked at me.

“For the most part yeah, I feel a lot better than I did. I think taking time to get my head on straight helped a lot, plus therapy.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Dean smiled at me.

I missed spending time with Dean. But I hadn’t pushed him, I figured he needed a break from me and I understood that. I can be a lot sometimes and he has his own stuff to deal with. It’s not easy being my friend. Plus after everything I realized I probably will never be comfortable enough with myself to be with someone. I’m in love with him and probably will always be. Knowing he’s here but I can’t have him is a hard pill to swallow but I’m working everyday to move past it. I know he deserves better and I know I’m not it. 

“You haven’t heard anything from that douchebag right?” he continued reading over the files. 

“He actually messaged me a few weeks ago from his facebook account. Asked how I was and hoped I was doing better. I ignored it and he kept sending messages, saying he was sorry and he was a dick, blah, blah, blah. I blocked him.” 

“What an asshat, he must have balls the size of Texas to reach out to you after the stunt he pulled.” 

“I guess so, I was upset by it but I’m moving on.” I smiled at him.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, you didn’t deserve that, any of it.”

“It’s ok Dean, I’ve accepted what has happened and I’m moving on. Choosing between a man and a bear, I’d choose the bear.”

“You don’t mean that, you just haven't found the right man yet.”

I scoffed. “Dean… I’m an overweight, loud mouthed, cursing, strong willed woman, who has extreme trust issues. I doubt I will ever find a man who is ok with that, plus I don’t think I want to put myself out there again, who knows what will happen.”

“Just have me greet them with my glock, I’m sure it will go great after that.”

I laughed.

“In all seriousness I hope you do find someone someday Y/N, you deserve the world whether you believe you do or not.”

My heart sank. The only man I want is right in front of me and he will never want me.

“Thanks De.” I got up to pat him on the shoulder.

“Where are you going?” 

“I just need some air.” 

“Y/N I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t, I just have a lot on my mind and need a break.”

He frowned.

“It’s ok Dean, really.” I gave him a small smile.

Once I was outside and had the door closed I broke down, I can’t keep doing this to myself.

_________________________________________________

Dean’s POV:

I didn’t mean to upset her. I was trying to give her hope. 

It has been five months since I saw Y/N break. I’ve never been so scared in my life seeing her crumble under the weight of the world. I had to step back, let her get her head on straight without me. I don’t want to get used to relying on her to make me feel better. She needs to take care of herself, not me. I missed spending time with her but I knew it was for the best. Plus I know Sam is a better influence. I’m no good for her.

My phone was buzzing.

Sam.

“Hey man.”

“Dean hey, is Y/N with you?”

“Nah, she’s taking a break.”

“Oh, ok. I was going to let you guys know the cops think it’s a serial grave robber, evidently this has happened before. From everything I’ve checked out, I don’t see a relation to a monster. Maybe we should just let the cops handle it?”

I sighed. “Yeah that’s fine, we can stick around for a few days to see if anything happens.” 

“You ok dude?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just worry about her.”

“I know you do, but she’s doing better.”

“I know man, I just feel like I’m losing her. I know I stopped hanging with her but I wanted her to be able to heal without me looming over her.”

“Dean, she probably thinks you need a break from her, you know how she thinks.”

“You’re right Sam, I didn’t think about that. God, I messed up.”

“She’ll be back man and you can talk to her, I’ll go grab us some food before I head back.” 

As Dean was finishing his call with Sam, she sneaked back in.

“She’s here now, talk to you soon.”

“Everything ok?” she asked.

Her eyes were red, she had been crying.

Shit, I’m an asshole.

“Uh yeah, Sam said cops think it’s a serial grave robber, it’s happened before. Told him we could stick around for a few days and see if anything happens. He’s grabbing food, and should be back soon.”

She nodded.

“Y/N I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I got up to go towards her.

She backed away.

“It’s ok Dean, I’m just being over sensitive right now.” 

“No you’re not, I shouldn't have brought it up.”

“Dean it’s fine really, let’s just drop it.”

“I don’t want to drop it Y/N, I’ve been awful to you these last few months. I was trying to give you space to heal and it backfired. You think I hate you or can’t stand you. Neither is the case.”

“I understand Dean, I know I can be a lot. It’s ok.”

I raised my voice “But it’s not, I feel like I’m losing you!”

She began to cry. 

“Dean, I was doing fine, great even. Until I realized the biggest part of me was missing you. Sam was great at helping me, sure, but you told me you would stick by my side and you didn’t. I really get it. I’m annoying as hell. Everyone deserves a break. But you know I would do anything for you, hell I have and I know you have done a lot for me. And the fact is, I’m not yours to lose. So stop apologizing, put your big boy pants on, and move on. I’m not going to keep doing this!”

_________________________________________________

Y/N’s POV:

Dean took a step back and sighed.

He can’t keep doing this to me and I can’t keep doing this to myself.

I could tell I upset him.

I rubbed my head and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just don’t need to keep hearing your apologies alright, I get it Dean. You forget I know you better than you know yourself. I’ll be ok, please don’t beat yourself up.”

I moved to hug him. 

He held me in his arms.

Then spoke, “You know I can’t do that sweetheart, beating myself up is my number one hobby.” He laughed.

“Well you need to stop, especially when it comes to me.” I moved back.

“I just need to know it’s going to be ok Y/N, I know I messed up but I will be better. Promise.”

“I know Dean, I know.”

Taglist:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist

@pandasrdbest2341

[ozzgin]

Day 1: Yandere School Doodle

Day 2: Balinese Folklore, Brazilian Folklore, Romanian Folklore

Day 3: Secret Collection, AI [Yandere Android]

Day 4: Yokai Harem Doodle, Homemade Meal [Yandere Serial Killer]

Day 5: Deep Sea Monster, Yandere School Doodle

Day 6: Unorthodox Gift [Yandere Yakuza]

Day 7: Dear Alice [Cute!Yandere]

Day 8: Chimera [Deer Monster]

Day 9: Heart on a platter [Demon King]

Day 10: Dragon!Guardian

Day 11: Dragon!Guardian Doodle, Medieval Menace [Vegetable Lamb Hybrid]

Day 12: Devilish Charm [Zzy]

Day 13: Mating Season [Lion!Hybrid & Tiger!Hybrid]

Day 14: Eyes Everywhere! [Internet Monster]

Day 15: Monster Streaming Doodle

Day 16: A piece of me [Angel], Idolatry [Angel]

Day 17: Razor Sharp Smile [Vampire Clown]

Day 18: Yandere School Doodle

Day 19: Wings, Under Lock and Key [Fae] (Postponed)

Day 20: Fear of the dark [Ghost Harem]

Day 21: Undead [Zombie x Grave Robber!Reader]

Day 22: Mommy's Little Monsters [Spider Horde]

Day 23: Aftercare [Yandere Circus]

Day 24: I put a spell on you [Succubus]

Day 25: Tainted Love [Naga]

Day 26: Full Moon [Werewolf]

Day 27: Android Caretaker

Day 28: Dullahan [Pumpkin Assistant]

Day 29: I come with knives [Slasher]

Day 30: Alien [Xenomorph Queen + Hive], Monster Hotel Guest

Day 31: Art the Clown x Reader

[Navigation]

[auspicioustidings]

Drabbles that lay in the realm of straight angst.

Drabbles

Not sorted as there are not a large number of these. Soulmate Ghoap Ghost x terminally ill reader Mhairi’s pitch for the next CoD game On the run reader with 141 Why Johnny calls Simon a Brit and not English Addict Soap Sad Gaz as the last member of the 141 thoughts Karim siblings Price with reincarnating 141 Graves' omega Price struggling with being queer in the military Arcade Simon and Tommy Simon spotting a kid in an abusive situation Beta reader with scent match Ghoap CEO omega Secondary stress disorder medic Robber Ghost Nurse reader Ghost helping Soap and partner over trauma Forced harem 141 with oblivious reader Taking wife for granted Price Alpha Ghost who hates omegas Free diver Ghost and mer Soap

[run2min]

SYNOPSIS! Have you ever spoken to Sunghoon? No. Will you ever muster up the courage to speak to him? Probably not. But that’s not going to stop you from admiring him from afar is it? Unknowingly to you, Sunghoon has been admiring you too, will you ever talk to him? That’s for you to find out ;)

GENRE! Basketball player!hoon x artist fem!reader, collage au, strangers to lovers, Sunghoon is so down bad

CAUTION! inappropriate jokes, cursing, a little suggestive, more to be added

TAGLIST! @nyfwyeonjun @sincerelyrki @woninluv

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹ PROFILES TWO || grave robbers -Yuj because she’s on a ‘social media detox’ 🤢🙅‍♂️🙅‍♀️

y/n

@/ynnieandrenjun || an art and literature student at deciles college, has an unhealthy obsession with nct dream and AESPA (…you get it?), her friends say they’re sick of her but THEY ARE they love her really!!

@/yizhouyn || where yn lets out her AESPA and Renjun love 😜 (where Sunghoon can’t see and think she’s mad (she is mad)), rants about the was Sunghoon looked at her in the corridor and gets told she’s dellulu by her no.1 hater very good friend sunoo.

niki || jungwon

@/rizzmasterriki || …. niki. he’s…. well….. he’s niki.

@/yangarden || the absolute cutest person ever but likes to say he hates everyone, definitely has a soft spot for you though, always lets you do whatever you want TT

sunoo || yunjin

@/sunkkoo || ynsung no.1 hater, likes to bully niki, everyone loves him, is obsessed with the word coquette, called his inhaler coquette the other day…

@/huhitsyunjin || sunoo’s partner in crime, they go everywhere together, secretly supports ynsung, makes hating men her entire personality (she’s so real for that though honestly)

eunchae || yujin

@/eunlols || her bio doesn’t lie…. her and Niki are the same person in different bodies, chronically online, uses the phrase ‘i gyatt something in my eye’ more than acceptable

@/jinyu || cannot make it through a conversation without mentioning the ‘minatozaki stare’, genuinely in love with sana, knows twice’s entire discography, on a social media detox… (aka tired of her friends shit), boys are always messaging her but she’s with yujin on the whole hating men front, swears she’s straight tho!!!

wonyoung || rei

@/wonyoungism || head of the photography club, a lot of people try to date her but she’s very independent in that sense, on the other hand she cannot go anywhere without rei TT, one of the nicest people ever.

@/reisin || opposite to wonyoung in the way that she’s a haterrr, finds everything funny, bullies android users on roblox voice chat with eunchae and niki

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