#i had a darker complexion when i was little
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It's 2024 and there's still Americans out there trying to convince white passing latinos that we are not latinos. Can we like, progress as a society or something? It's getting tiring.
Please, call us privileged and colonizers and shit all you like. Please, disregard the fact that not all white latinos descend from colonizers, but from refugees who came here after World War I and II.
In my (admitedly very specific) case, my mom came to Venezuela after the fall of the Soviet Union looking for a better life. Her ancestors were certainly not complicit in Spanish colonization 💀
And yeah, we do benefit from white privilege and IT is fucked up, don't get me wrong. But like, look at yourself in a mirror, maybe? 🤦🏻♀
We are not the ones gentrifying Latin American cities and making everything so expensive the locals can't even efford to live in their own countries anymore. We are not the ones funding the fucking cartels with our nation wide drug problem. Yes, that's a thing. And we are certainly NOT the ones electing presidents who keep bombing the Middle East and overthrowing our goverments for funsies.
Dear god, I know I will get crucified for saying it but here it goes. Even if you are POC, you are more privileged than we will ever be just for having an American passport and speaking English without an accent. Leave us the fuck alone.
#latin america#venezuela#gentrification#tumblr en español#white privelage#social justice#colonialism#anti colonization#i had a darker complexion when i was little#and for some reason i became light skinned in my teenage years#so believe me im pretty fucking aware of my privilege#my mother's side of the family used to call me brown girl 💀#discourse?
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Patron Saint of hellfire | Eddie Munson x reader



stranger things masterlist / inbox
summary: Eddie treats you like you're the only virtue worth holding, but it's his vices you're trying to bring to light
word count: 3.1k
tags / content warnings: basically porn with minimal plot, I swear I tried to synonymise more but then i gave up, again, i cannot reiterate how little plot this has, it's just me being self indulgent
a/n: the grammer checker keeps saying my writing lacks clarity but i'm done trying to fix it
The air between you is thick, charged—every molecule laced with the scent of him, of you, sweat and salt and something darker, something desperate. A hunger that doesn’t just gnaw at the bones but devours them, relentless, the kind that lingers long after the body is sated, etched into the skin like an emblem. You move with deliberate slowness, savouring the way his fingers dig into your thighs—not hard enough to bruise, never hard enough to bruise — not when he treats your body like something holy, but enough to make your nerves hum with the promise of more. His grip is worship and restraint in equal measure, caught between devotion and destruction, the scales trembling as you teeter on the edge of it.
Every drag of him inside you is a revelation, slick and filthy, the sound obscene in the best way—a wet, rhythmic counterpoint to his ragged inhales. His breath hitches, sharp and punched-out every time you clench around him, his voice breaking around your name like it’s the only word he remembers. The gasps coil low in your stomach, molten and sweet, a live wire sparking under your complexion, setting every nerve alight. You can feel him everywhere—the heat of his body beneath yours, the way his muscles tense and tremble, the desperate roll of his pelvis as he chases friction, chases you, like he’d follow you straight into damnation if you asked.
His lips part, his gaze locked on yours, dark and fevered, like you’re the only thing left sacred in his world—like he’d carve your name into his ribs a thousand times over just to keep you looking at him like this. Like he’s already damned, and you’re the only altar he knows how to kneel at. The reverence in his touch is almost unbearable, tracing your figure like he’s memorising the shape of you, the feel of you, as if this moment might be the last one either of you gets.
And you can feel how close he is—every tendon drawn taut, his voice raw and wrecked, his hips stuttering against yours. His control unravels with every thrust, every whispered plea against your lips, his body trembling on the edge of freefall. Right as you know you’ve got him there—right as his breath fractures, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll vanish—you stop.
His body jerks beneath you, a strangled groan tearing from his throat as you pull away—as you let his throbbing cock slip free, leaving him twitching, flushed and straining against nothing. His hands fly to your waist, digging into it like a lifeline, as if clinging hard enough might keep him from shattering.
You see his restraint unravelling—the muscle leaping in his jaw, the sharp hiss of breath between clenched teeth, and the tremor in his thighs where he fights to stay still. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t take.
He just shakes, wrecked by his own want.
And it kills you.
Because you know why he hesitates. You see it in the way his throat works when he swallows, in the way his thumbs flex against you—like he’s afraid his touch alone could break you. Like if he lets go, if he gives in, he’ll ruin everything.
But that’s exactly what you want.
You want ruin. You want his control to snap, want him to forget every reason he ever had for holding back. You want his palms on you like a brand, his mouth like a confession, and his body moving with yours like there’s no tomorrow.
But he doesn’t give it to you.
He won’t.
And that’s the whole damn problem.
Dating Eddie had been… unexpectedly sweet.
Which, given his reputation, you never saw coming. The man was a walking provocation—all sharp grins and dirtier promises, the kind of bastard who’d murmur exactly what he wanted to do to you in the middle of a crowded bar just to watch your breath hitch and your thighs press together. Maybe it was wrong to admit, but you loved those wild flashes of him—the way his fists clenched when you danced just out of reach, the growl in his voice when someone looked at you a second too long.
But he always leashed it. Always.
Now? Now he was soft. Thoughtful. Devoted. And yeah, it was great—obviously. The way he traces every curve, freckle, and dip of you like you were scripture and he was learning you by heart. The way he kissed you like he could imprint his love into your bones with every swipe of his tongue. The way he’d linger, his breath ragged against your lips, his body trembling with restraint as if you’d dissolve if he pushed too hard.
Eddie treated you like something holy.
Which left you in this predicament.
Because he worshipped you—reverently—with his mouth between your thighs, savouring you like communion. With his hands cradling your face as he fucked into you, slow and deep, murmuring, "Fuck, look at you, so perfect, so good for me," like you were the answer to every prayer he’d never dared to speak. He ruined you in the gentlest ways, drawing out every gasp and shiver until you were shaking apart beneath him, until you sobbed his name like a plea.
And God, you hated how much you loved it.
Because fuck, you didn’t just want gentle. You wanted the real Eddie—the one who’d wreck you and make you thank him for it. The one who snarled curses at hecklers, who pinned you against the bathroom door at the Hideout, teeth at your throat, inhibitions drowned in cheap whisky and filth spilling from his lips. You wanted the Eddie who’d flip you onto your stomach with a growl, who’d mark your thighs with his fingerprints and your skin with his teeth, and who’d remind you—between panting, filthy kisses—that even saints fall to their knees.
And Christ, you were tired of waiting for him to figure it out.
You hadn’t planned it—not consciously, anyway. But the moment you caught that wild, desperate glint in his eyes when you pulled away—just before he could cum, leaving him gasping, his fingers knotting in your hair like he was a breath from snapping—something in you ignited.
You had to see it again.
Had to drag that spark into open air and watch it burn.
So you pushed.
Teased.
Denied.
Again and again and again—
Your hands on his belt, undoing it slowly, savouring the hitch in his breath as you never quite touched where he wanted.
Your tongue tracing the vein of his cock while precum beaded at the tip, tormenting him with the crusade.
Your body sinking onto him, just shy of where he needed you—close enough to torture, never enough to satisfy.
Eddie, ever the goddamn martyr, took it.
Every.
Fucking.
Time.
—growling, resisting, defiant, even as his body sold him out with every ragged breath, every frantic jerk of his hips. And Christ, the noises he made—guttural, wounded, your name a blasphemy on his lips, the only blessing his sinful mouth had ever known.
“C’mon, sweetheart—just this once—let me—fuck—!”
The words fracture into a gasp as you lean in, your lips grazing his jaw, just to feel him unravel—like even the phantom of your touch was enough to wreck him, like he was one frayed thread from coming apart.
And there it was: that tension, wire-tight, humming between you. His pupils drown the warm brown of his eyes, nothing left but plain hunger. His hands twitch against you—gripping, releasing, gripping again—torn between yanking you down and flipping you beneath him, between pleading and claiming.
He was breaking.
You could see it—the way his throat locked, the way his teeth sank into his lip, biting back a sob or a swear. The way his voice, usually honey-smooth when he was trying to be good for you, turned raw, ruined.
“Fuck—please.”
Close.
So close.
But not yet.
You grind down against him—just once—a slow, deliberate roll of your frame, the friction agonisingly brief. Just enough to make him hiss through clenched teeth, to wrench his head back into the pillows as his tongue catches between them, biting down hard to stifle the groan clawing up his throat. And then you still.
The pause is persecution. His body arches beneath you, every ligament locked, trembling with the effort of holding back—like the need inside him is a living thing, ravenous, threatening to swallow him whole. His hands flex at your waist, fingertips finally digging in hard enough to leave a mark, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust up. Just lets out a shattered exhale, ragged and uneven.
"Eddie." Your voice is a whisper, edged with challenge and something darker— something malecious — as you drag your nails down his chest, leaving faint, pink trails in their wake. His breath hitches, chest expanding under your touch like he’s starving for air. "You wanna cum, baby?"
His answer is a broken noise, half groan, half surrender. "Y-yeah—fuck, yeah, please—" There’s something raw in his voice, something beyond desperation.
Fear.
The kind that lives in the hollow of his ribs, in the silence between heartbeats—the terror that if he lets go, if he snaps, he’ll ruin you. That the hunger inside him, the one gnawing at his restraint like a wild thing, will be too much. Too scorching. Too rough.
Too eager.
You can see it—the heave of his chest, the tendons in his neck pulled tight, his jaw clenched until it twitches. His hips jerk once, involuntary, before he forces them still again, a broken gasp tearing from his lips. He’s the eye of the hurricane, a storm barely contained in every frazzled breath, another battle in his endless war. It’s a brutal stalemate of muscle and bone and sheer fucking willpower, all straining against the need threatening to split him open.
And yet.
He holds.
Some stubborn, adamant part of him clings to discipline, to the dread that this is just amusement—that you’re being sardonic, that if he really lets go, if he surrenders to the itch clawing at his membrane, he’ll ruin you too.
As if you wouldn’t let him.
As if you wouldn’t beg for it.
As if you wouldn’t fucking thank him for it.
You lean down, your mouth a slow, searing brand against the shell of his ear—close enough that the slightest shift would catch flesh between your teeth. Your voice is tempered with honey and sin, each word a deliberate provocation:
"You could make me."
A shudder wrecks him—violent, full-bodied, as if lightning has scorched the words into his soul. His fingers spasm against you, and for one suspended, hungry second—you’re certain he’ll break. That the last fibre of his control will snap, and he’ll finally, finally give in.
But he doesn’t.
His restraint is maddening. Beautiful. Agonising. Every inch of him is coiled steel, a spring wound to the point of bursting, his body locked in brutal defiance. You feel the tremors wracking through him, the raw, shuddering effort of denial—of refusing to take what he craves so desperately.
And you—
You want to annihilate him.
You want to crack him open, peel back every stifled groan, and every choked plea. You want to watch him come undone, to be the flood that drags him under, the reckoning he can’t escape. You want to be divine wrath and unholy absolution, the force that burns through his resolve until nothing remains—
His heartbeat is a ferocious thing, thrashing against your palm like a caged beast—each frantic pulse a hammer strike in the fraught silence between you. The heat of him burns into your skin, his blood a fevered drum beneath your touch while the war inside him rages behind those darkened eyes. You stare at it—the fraying edges of his control, the way his breath saws through his teeth, ragged and sharp, as if he’s one whispered plea away from snapping.
Then—
Eddie breaks.
His voice is smoke and gravel, stripped raw, a growl ripped from the depths of his chest as his fist twists in your hair. The grip is brutal, sending lightning-shocks of thrilling pain searing across your scalp as he drags your gaze to his.
“Tell me you want it.”
The words are ground between his teeth, his voice trembling—not with worry, but with the sheer, splintering effort of holding back. He’s dangling over the edge, one breath away from freefall. “I need to hear you fucking say it.”
And you—
You don’t hesitate. Not a heartbeat. Not a flicker of doubt. Your answer is an abdication — an inauguration.
“Take me.”
His restraint doesn’t just crash—it fucking implodes.
A low, guttural sound tears from him, the last vestiges of his control collapsing inward like a star giving way to gravity. Eddie doesn’t just fall—he erupts, demolishing every boundary, every hesitation, with a groan that vibrates through your core. And, God, you want to drown in it—in the raw, unfiltered flood of him, in the way his need devours you like a riptide, dragging you under, deeper, deeper—
The version of him you’ve grown accustomed to—the one who would stoop at your altar for eternity, who would worship you with reverent hands and whispered prayers—vanishes. In its place stands something feral, something devout in a way that puts iconoclasm itself to shame.
This isn’t devotion.
This is desecration.
And then there’s nothing but him. The world tilts, the room spinning in a dizzying whirl as he flips you over, his body a furnace against yours. One hand pins both of your wrists above your head, his fingers lacing through yours in a grip that’s as possessive as it is familiar—like he’s reclaiming what was always his. His weight sears into you, tainting you with every ragged inhale, every tremor that wracks his frame. But he’s not shaking with hesitation anymore. No, this is the aftershock of holding back for too goddamn long, the seismic release of a man who’s finally stopped denying himself.
His mouth crashes against yours like he’s starved for it—like he’s been dying of thirst and you’re the first taste of water in decades. There’s no finesse, no patience, just the brutal, consuming need to take. His other hand grips your thigh, yanking it higher, wider, his palm a brand as it slides up, leaving fire in its wake. There’s no room for gentleness here. No room for hesitation. Only this: the sharp sting of his teeth, the bruising press of his hips, the way he claims every inch of you like he’s carving his name into your bones.
The first thrust is a revelation—blinding, brutal, a declaration so fierce it steals the breath from your lungs. You have to fight to keep your eyes open, to watch the ruin you’ve orchestrated unfold—because God, it’s beautiful. The way his control fractures, the way his body bows over yours like a man in sacrament, like a sinner finally surrendering to damnation. His touch is everywhere, rough and reverent, dragging you against him with a desperation that borders on violence. As if he could fuse your bones together if he just held tight enough. As if he could carve this feeling into them, rewriting every moment he denied himself with the searing mark of his touch.
Every snap hits deeper than the last—a dire rearrangement, a reckoning for all the time he’s wasted curbing the desire.
"This what you wanted?"
His voice is a wildfire let loose, a growl scraped raw against your throat as his teeth find your skin—kissing, scraping, and biting. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Doesn’t need one. Not when your body is singing its reply with every shudder, every gasp, every broken noise he wrings from you.
"Wanted me to lose control?"
You can’t answer. Can’t fucking think—not when every drag of him inside you is pure incandescence, not when his rhythm is relentless, perfect, each withdrawal a taunt, each thrust a demand. His breath scorches your neck, his chuckle a hot gust that prickles down your spine. It’s carnage, every movement a chord struck in the symphony of your undoing, and he conducts it with a goddamn smirk on his lips. This isn’t just fucking.
It’s punishment.
It’s fealty.
It’s everything.
It’s punishment and worship fused together—his hands rough with greed, his touch reverent with something dangerously close to dread. Every movement is contradiction and deference, the bite of his fingers against you a stark contrast to the way his lips brush your pulse point like a whispered benediction. He’s unravelling you, thread by goddamn thread, even as he wills himself resilient — as if the outright force of craving you is enough to rip him apart at the seams.
“Tell me you’re mine.” It's not an inquiry, it's a fucking dictation.
It tears from him like he’s mitigating the clash between desperation and demand. It’s not just words— it’s a need, carved from the very marrow of his bones, and you can see the overture in it, the consolation he’s reaching for and the tenacity that’s written into his genetics.
Your reply comes without thought, without hesitation—pure instinct, molten and immediate, giving him exactly what he’s so wretched for:
"Yours. Always yours."
The words ignite something primal in him. A growl rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your ribs as he claims your mouth, his kiss equal parts possession and surrender. This is more than ownership—it’s covenant, it’s consecration, and it’s the last frayed cord of his control snapping.
And then—
The realisation creeps into your veins like poison—too late to stop the spread. He’s a quick fucking study.
Before you can flutter your lashes, his hips roll with devastating precision. The tables turn so violently your guts plummet to the floor. Your arch is instinctive, a silent plea, but his palm presses down on your abdomen, pinning you under his newfound dominion. His tongue clicks in mocking agreement, the sound travelling straight through your sternum to pool liquid-hot between your thighs.
A predator's grin slashes across his features as he leans closer—but not close enough—his breath scalding against your parted lips.
“Oh no, love.”
His voice is refined malice, syllables dripping with a cataclysmic edge that makes your pulse stutter. The hand not holding you down drifts up, tracing counterfeit awe down your throat, a farce of tenderness.
“You wanted to play with fire?”
Each word is candied malevolence, a lullaby wrapped in a threat.
“Gonna show you exactly how it burns.”
#eddie munson#eddie#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie x y/n#eddie x you#eddie x reader#stranger things smut#eddie stranger things#eddie smut#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#eddie fluff#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fics#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie fic#eddie fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things s4
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behind closed doors
[Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader] [2.1k words]

SUMMARY: Through the eyes of the public, you were her daughter's annoying best friend. But when it came to the privacy of her chambers and behind closed doors, the thin line between love and hate began to blur.
WARNINGS: 18+ | Minors/Men DNI | Age gap (Reader is 22/23), best friend's mother, secret relationship, smut, vaginal fingering, oral, dom!Ambessa, sub!Reader, hate sex, slight enemies with benefits, masturbation, slightly possessive!Ambessa, bathroom sex, kind of jealousy, maybe a little toxic
A-N: i feel I kinda rushed the ending. But hopefully, y'all enjoy, lol.
[masterlist]
You weren't exactly sure why you agreed to meet up again. You were Mel's best friend, and this was indeed her mother that you were seeing. You shouldn't be sneaking around behind her back like this. Most likely, you would be betraying her trust by hooking up with the elder Medarda woman.
However, perhaps, it could have been the thrill of this whole thing, or the risk of being caught that drew you in, further and further towards the clutches of Ambessa. But whatever the reason may be, you couldn't seem to have cared at this moment.
Your feet halted outside Ambessa's private bathroom door, and you braced yourself to knock onto the door before you. Then you reached out one hand, closing it to a fist as you made a few taps amongst the mahogany wood of the grand door.
It was just as your stomach was doing its usual flips and somersaults inside, twisting and turning into knots, from the familiar nervousness you experienced. That you heard the familiar stern voice of Ambessa Medarda, answering, with nothing more than a short ‘come in.’
You took a deep breath in, to calm your raging nerves inside, and pushed the door inwards, stepping inside the grand and quite luxurious wash room. Fixed with a giant tub in the middle of the room. This tub, which currently sat rested against the back of it, was Ambessa, in all her glory. A chalice of what seemed to be red wine, nestled between her fingertips.
Her gaze landed on you, a small smirk appearing onto her darker complexion as she spotted you entering. Eyes observing your body subtly as you shut the door behind yourself and start to carry yourself towards where she sat.
“Join me.” She spoke clearly, cutting right to the point of the secret meeting; it was more an order than a question. Something that you knew you didn't exactly have a say in, whatsoever ever, yet didn't seem to mind either. “I want you to strip for me, slowly, so I can admire what's mine.”
You nodded, and when you stood now on the opposite side of the tub, in perfect sight of Ambessa herself. Your hands grabbed at the hem of your shirt, and slowly pulled it from over your head. Now, showing off your full chest to her.
Ambessa nodded to more herself than you, letting out a hum of acknowledgement, and she gestured for you to rid yourself of your bottoms. Which you obliged, with another nod of your own. Grabbing at the waistband of your pants and sliding them down your legs before kicking them off to the side.
The nerves inside your stomach, now fading momentarily and replacing itself with the thrill of what tonight was to contain ahead. Your eyes are watching Ambessa as you wait for her next move. Fingers dancing across the thin strap of the panties, to your dark red lingerie set. One which Ambessa had specifically told you to wear, the last rendezvous you'd participated in with each other.
Ambessa shakes her head and gestures for you to come closer to her. Eyes admiring how you looked in the lingerie when you followed her directions. Her smirk still has not faded quite yet, as she spotted you now stood just to the side of her, from outside the bathtub.
She watches you for a moment before a clink can be heard as she places her chalice down on the table to the other side of her body. Her body shifted then, to face you better, from where you now stand. The bubbles around her naked form, moving a little, to give you a view of her own boobs from underneath the soapy water.
You watch with quiet anticipation, as she drags her finger over your body before it lands now just above your panties, that you still had yet to remove. She takes a moment to look up at you, staring at you for any signs of apprehension or denial of her advances. But to her luck, you don't. Instead, you only nod in consent.
And so, Ambessa slides her finger into your panties, hooking it underneath and dragging it. Her smirk widened in what seemed to be satisfaction, at how damp she had felt the fabric was, as she pulled them down your legs.
“You know, I do not want you flirting with those guards anymore.” She speaks, running her finger along the outside of your exposed cunt now. Sending a shiver down your spine at the action, which she doesn't notice, or she chooses to ignore. “When we agreed to these meetings, I thought you knew to only find pleasure with me.”
You shake your head, confusion appearing temporarily in your brow, as you bite at your bottom lip. Thinking back to earlier that moment, and all the flirting you'd done with that one guard out front. How gorgeous you had believed them to be.
The words tumbling from your mouth before you could stop any of them. “I wasn't aware that I couldn't see anybody else—isn't the point that this is secret?”
Ambessa chuckled, dryly, but nodded. And dragged her finger up and around your body once more. Sometimes, you hated how you loved the touch of her against your skin, even when you knew you should. Her touch, a silent emphasis for her next words, she'd very clearly speak.
“Yes, but this body of yours…Is mine to pleasure. Nobody else's. Isn't that right?” She asks, tilting her head carefully to look at you still. “Do you think you can prove to me you're aware of this?”
You only nod. It's all you can manage right now.
“Good, show me. Prove to me that you're mine to pleasure however I want.” She nods and removes her own finger from your body, sitting back against the wall of the tub once more. Her eyes stay glued to your figure as you hesitate for a moment. Nevertheless, you nod and agree.
You slowly take your finger and bring it down to your wet cunt, and drag it carefully through your folds. A gasp escaping your lips at the movement, as you push it further inside yourself.
Ambessa nods again with satisfaction and gestures for you to add a second finger from where she is still sitting. Watching as you begin to pleasure yourself for her. To prove yourself to her.
And so you do. You add a second finger, and it elicits another gasp from your already parted lips. Dragging both fingers along the inside of your walls, sending pleasure through your system as you go.
“Good. Now, faster. Do not stop, not until I tell you, too.” She praises, with her tone stern as she speaks to you. Her voice is edging you onwards. Which cues you to follow through, and continue on with each repetitive movement.
You clench your legs together tightly, as you pump your fingers in and out from your tight, sopping cunt. Gasps and groans of pure pleasure spilling out, as you go. Each harsh thrust of your own fingers, moving faster as it goes in and out, than the last.
Ambessa still remains satisfied, watching on as you pleasure yourself in front of herself. And she smirks once more, at the way your fingers are nestled deep inside of your cunt, from where you still stand. The panting and the groans which come from you, sound like music to her ears, and it makes her own cunt wet in retaliation. Pure desire and lust threaded into her expressions.
“Faster.” It's short, and it's again another order. Ambessa isn't asking, and you know she isn't.
This time, though, as she watches you attempt to thrust your fingers at a quicker pace. Ambessa is inserting her own fingers, to her own cunt. Thrusting them in alongside you, getting off to the very sound of your own pretty noises.
But then, you halt your movements, your fingers remove themselves from your pussy. Sticky with the juices from inside, as you look up at Ambessa. This in turn, caught the very attention of the older woman, who now halts in her own movements.
“I didn't tell you to stop.” She scolds you, as if she had been scolding that of a misbehaving child. “Get in my lap.”
You shake your head and mumble out a few apologies towards her. Yet, you do as she asks and climb down into the soapy water of the bathtub. The water splashes against your bottom half as you move into position, and you lower yourself down onto her bare lap.
As you sit, you notice how you're able to feel Ambessa's bare breasts, slick with water from the bubble bath, poking into your back as she leans into you further. Her head tilts down towards your ear, grey curls tickling at the back of your neck, as she does so.
“It is clear, you think you need to be punished.” She scolds once more. “So, keep your whines and groans quiet, we wouldn't want to draw attention to these meetings, remember.”
You nod as you feel Ambessa stretch one muscular arm around your shoulders and to your lap. No, you agreed silently. You were quite sure that if anyone, especially Mel, found out about your secret lustful escapades, with her own mother. She'd certainly hate you, that'd be sure. Or at least, you believed that your very best friend would.
Ambessa circles your clit, with her thumb now, bringing another shiver down your spine. One that the woman behind you, could probably feel.
Then, you gasp as her finger slides into your wet cunt, yet doesn't even stop for a moment to check if you're okay. As she's already inserted a second finger harshly in, as well. Which allows another gasp to escape from your lips.
“You are going to sit there, take my fingers like a good girl, quietly.” She whispers again into your ear. You wouldn't even put it past her, for the next words she speaks, to become reality. You knew she probably wasn't bluffing. “Or maybe these little meetings may have to end. You wouldn't like that, would you?”
You shake your head hurriedly and clamp your mouth shut with your teeth to stop any future moans from coming out. Right as Ambessa nods, then she’s speeding up her fingers.
The squelching of Ambessa’s fingers nestled in your tight cunt is evident, and the only sounds that could be heard inside that bathroom right now. Which were slightly muffled, by the bubbles and water which covered both your lower halves.
It takes every fibre of your being to not let slip out any noise, as her fingers work absolute magic on your aching, throbbing pussy. Each groan stays trapped behind the biting of your lip, muffled from anything outside.
Faster. Her fingers go faster. Thrusting in, and out, through the entrance of your cunt.
The coil in your stomach is tightening, as Ambessa thrusts her fingers deeper and further. Smirking at your feeble attempts to suppress each of your groans and whining. She felt like chuckling at how much you were struggling to stay quiet, with the way you were writhing in her lap. Yet she doesn't, and focusses back in on her fingers, which are still repeatedly pumping in and out from your tight hole.
“You're taking these fingers so well. Taking me so well” She praises, before slipping a third finger inside you, and thrusting faster now.
You nod, shakily, still fighting to hold back your groans from slipping out from your lips. When each thrust of Ambessa becomes infinitely faster than the ones before it. God, you were so damn close. You were so close.
The coil tightened further in your stomach. Ambessa’s fingers didn't lessen their pace in your cunt. Neither did it become any easier for you to hold back the lude noises that you wished you could let roam free for your system.
Faster.
Faster.
And faster again, if possible, was how Ambessa’s fingers went. Thrusting at an almost inhumane speed inside your throbbing pussy. Edging you close and closer to your limit, to your climax.
You're panting now. Unknowingly releasing your hold onto your lip, as the sensations happening inside of you continue on. The thrusts, the pounding, the tightening in your stomach. It all becomes too much, and you don't think, when each groan you'd previously been suppressing back, finally lets loose.
All a result of Ambessa who's still working her fingers harshly against the walls of your aching pussy. Sending you further chasing after your own high. You were sure that soon you'd reach it, with the pace that Ambessa keeps up with.
It was all almost enough to make you miss the knocking, which was coming from outside the bathroom door. Almost. And with the next thing you know, you've frozen. Right on Ambessa’s lap. So whoever was out there, I'd they entered, could definitely see exactly what you're both doing.
You were quite literally screwed.
#fanfiction#imagines#x reader#arcane x reader#ambessa x reader#ambessa medarda#ambessa medarda x reader#smut#arcane smut#arcane#enemies with benefits#lesbian#wlw
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maybe a frenchie x supe!reader? there’s not enough frenchie fics out there! like maybe they don’t get along but they’re forced to work together?
A Wild Fix: Part 1
Pairing: Frenchie x Reader
Summary: You, Wild Card, a 27 year old Supe newly signed by Vought, are recruited by Billy Butcher following an incident in Vought Tower. With the help of The Boys, you vow to destroy the corrupt system that wronged so many. But will your mission be tainted by your constant bickering with one of your new team members?
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Violence, drug use, Homelander (Obviously), mentions of drug use, questionable French
Notes: I absolutely LOVED this request. I slept on it once I saw it because I had so many ideas and I didn't know where to start...but my goal is going to be a 3-5 part series! I'm going to try my best to keep each part under 2k, maybe 1.5k each? No gender was specified in the request so I'm gonna keep it as a GN reader!
From the outside...Vought as a whole seemed like the shiny pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that every Supe had striven for since the company's creation. But you? You knew the truth. Only 24 hours into your career as a member of The Seven, you had been subjected to more violence than you expected from a group that was supposedly supposed to save people. Your first meeting with the rest of the group had gone south quickly once you questioned one of Homelanders statements, and stood your ground when he told you to back down. Before you could even blink, you were pinned against the wall, with a firm hand pressed against your neck, constricting your breathing. In that moment, you understood that being compliant was the only thing that would secure your status as living. So that's what you did, you nodded your head and said “yes sir.” Needless to say, you left that room with the fear of god, no, the fear of The Homelander, choked into you…But you knew you couldn’t sleep here. So you booked a hotel room for the night, hoping maybe the receptionist wouldn't notice the bruises on your neck.But while you walked there, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hugged yourself to keep the cool night air out of your jacket, you were approached by a man named Billy Butcher. The two of you had a lengthy conversation outside of the hotel regarding the truth behind Homelander, The Seven, and Vought as a whole. Then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: a chance to get back at Homelander. A chance to bring yourself justice, as well as bring justice to the others he had hurt in his desperate pursuit of ultimate power. Of course…you agreed.
You had kept in touch with Butcher the following week on a burner phone he had given you, knowing that Vought had most likely bugged all of your personal technology…and on your next day off? You met him at a location that was unknown to you, one you would soon come to be familiar with. As he ushered you down the wooden stairs of the unknown building, you weren't met with the most reassuring of environments. Drug paraphernalia, along with various illegal weapons, and full ammo boxes littered the expanse of the rather unwelcoming looking hideout. You stopped at the bottom step and pointed to a literal stack of plastic bags containing what you could only assume was coke.
“That’s…” you swallowed, “That’s coke.” Butcher, who had been guiding you down the stairs with his hand on your lower back, laughed and shook his head.
“That’s right, love. Bags of coke.” Billy said with a small chuckle as he patted your back and stepped onto the broken concrete floor of the basement, greeting the others that inhabited the space. The first person you noticed was a rather lengthy looking young man who looked to be around the same age as you with slightly curly brown hair. Admittedly, you thought he dressed like a twelve year old. He was seated on a questionable looking couch, next to an older man with a bigger build and a darker complexion…who looked like he could snap you in half with little to no effort. Your gaze then flickered further into the room, and your gaze landed on a man who was around the same height as you. Not exactly tall…but not short either. The man in question had a buzz cut, a piercing on his left ear, and was wearing an orange and black tie-dyed shirt, along with cargo pants. He was seated on one of the tables that housed various pieces of drug paraphernalia, and was seemingly using a business card to arrange lines of coke on the back of an old phone book that sat on his lap.
“Well boys…here they are. This is Y/N L/N.” Butcher interrupted your silent evaluation as he addressed the room. He walked back to your side and put a hand on your shoulder, moving to point to the younger man on the couch. “That poor bastard there is Hughie,” he moved to the man next to him, “that's MM,” and finally…he pointed to the man sitting on the table. “That’s Frenchie.” Frenchie pulled his head away from the phonebook, white power dusted on his nose.
“Bonjour-” He said, cutting himself off with a sniffle as he wiped the coke from his nose. Oh, that's why they called him Frenchie. You narrowed your eyes, the greetings of the two other men falling on deaf ears as you looked Frenchie over. Clearly something important had been said during the duration of your staring, because you were knocked out of your thoughts by a firm nudge to the shoulder by Butcher.
“Oi, Hellen Keller! Are you up for it or not?” Butcher asked. He realized you hadn’t heard him and narrowed his eyes with a sigh. “We’re going to meet up with an info plug…You can either come or stay here with Frenchie.” You sort of just panicked and blurted out an answer, not wanting to ask any dumb questions about the info plug.
“I’ll stay…with uh, Frenchie.” You said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You weren’t an overly judgy person, you really weren't…but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation regarding staying alone with a man who had done coke off the back of a dirty phone book within the first minute of you meeting him. Butcher smirked when he saw the look of regret on your face.
“Right then. We’ll be back, love.” He said, gesturing for Hughie and MM to follow him out. “Make yourself at home.” With that, the three made their way up the stairs, leaving you alone with Frenchie. You took the moment of awkward silence that followed them leaving to look around the basement, your feet glued to the floor of course. The walls of the space were composed of a skeleton made of wooden posts, which were filled in with a mixture of red brick, and the same color of concrete that the floor was made of. The walls in question were littered with spray painted tags of many different colors, most of which you couldn’t read, due to the fact that they were in a different language, but they were oddly beautiful nonetheless. The lighting in the room, just a few hanging light bulbs, added to the strange ambiance of the room.
“You are Wild Card…Yes?” The silence was broken by Frenchie, who was still sitting on the table, but now facing your direction. You turned to him and nodded, albeit awkwardly.
“Yeah…Yeah. That's me. Just call me Y/N, though.” You said, trying your best to give a convincing smile.
“Y/N…” He nodded as he repeated your name, “Oui. A good name.” He looked at you for a moment, almost waiting for you to respond. When you didn't, he pursed his lips and blinked. “Remind me, Y/N…What are your powers exactly?” You sighed when he asked that. It was always strange explaining what exactly your powers were.
You were called Wild Card for a reason. While you were powerful…using your powers was sort of like playing a game of russian roulette, only with the gun pointed towards the other person. You could do a multitude of different things, along with the constant of your strength, speed, and agility. You could create different balls of explosive matter, you could manipulate and use the moisture present in the air for multiple different attacks, along with a few other niche things. The problem was…you never knew which would happen beforehand. All you could go off was the feeling you felt in your palms. You weren’t exactly the most reliable Supe abilities wise…but every one of your random attacks was extremely powerful, making you a good person to throw into the mix if things aren't going well for the rest of your team, which is why you were a valuable member to add to The Seven.
“Uhm…Have you ever played Uno before? Like the card game?” You asked. Frenchie nodded. “Well it’s kinda like when you put a wild card down in Uno, and you get to pick a color…Except you pick the color blindly.” Frenchie sort of stared at you for a moment, before he started laughing. You tensed up when you heard him laugh, but you tried to laugh along, due to the fact that you couldn’t tell if he was laughing with you or at you. “Forgive me, mon cher-” He stifled a laugh before continuing, “that is the silliest thing I've ever heard.” At that comment, you frowned, taking a step back even though you were across the room from each other.
“Silly? It’s not silly at all…I’m pretty powerful, all things considered-”
“But you just use it blindly?” He asked with a chuckle. “What happens when you want to shoot a fireball or something, but you summon a child’s teddy to your hand instead?” That ticked you off. Who the hell was he to insult your powers? He was a druggie, and didn't even have any.
“How can you sit there and insult me when you were doing lines off the back of a 30 year old phonebook when I walked in?” You asked, your words coming out a bit more spiteful than you had intended. Frenchie narrowed his eyes, but tried to shake off his anger. He wasn’t fond of fighting with people over small things, especially not when intoxicated.
“Ah…I see…” He said with a chuckle that you could only describe as pathetic, “All Supes really do have an ego, don't they?” He asked, hopping off the table he was sitting on.
“Hey! You've known me for five minutes and you're already making assumptions about me?” You balled your fists and took an accusatory step forward. Frenchie raised a brow.
“And I’m safe to assume that you’ve already painted this image of me in your head like some sort of druggie asshole?” Damn. He got you with that one. But alas…You were too prideful to let him have the last word. You scoffed.
“Maybe I’ll change my opinions when you’ve done something other than do drugs and laugh at me.” You said with a roll of your eyes. You weren't a conflictive person…But the last few days had been long and hard, so you couldn't exactly help it.
“Ditto, mon amour.” He said, his face painted with an absolutely infuriating smirk.
“Fuck you.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know nothing about me.”
“Eh bien, va te faire foutre toi aussi.” He said, almost matter-of-factly, mocking your current stance. You didn’t speak French, but you could only assume he had said something insulting back. Well, fuck you too. You were about to spit something back, but thankfully, Butcher came walking back down the wooden stairs, an eyebrow raised.
“Everything's alright down here, love?” He asks, the look on his face a mix between suspicion and curiosity.
“Yeah. Everything is fine.” You said, your tone strained. Butcher then looked over to Frenchie, who simply gave a thumbs up before leaning down to do another line off the phonebook. You huffed and rolled your eyes. You were too exhausted to say anything else.
The nerve of this man.
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I think it's safe to say this mini series is going to be lots of fun! I love Frenchie as a character, and it was really fun to come up with a fun Supe persona for the reader! I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part 2! I'm also working on a taglist form so keep an eye out for that! Adieu!
Masterlist
#the boys fanfic#theboys#frenchie x reader#frenchie the boys#mothers milk#billy butcher x reader#billy butcher#the boys fandom#the boys fanfiction#hughie campbell#hughie campbell x reader#homelander#vought#homelander x reader#gn reader#lgbtqia#writer#mini series#mm x reader#kimiko the boys#mm the boys#billy butcher the boys#the boys hughie#homelander the boys
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Flattery: Daryl Dixon & Fem!Reader
Prompt: Themed Lingerie
Era: Alexandria, pre-Saviors
Word count: 600 words
Warnings: No use of y/n, suggestive themes but no smut
Main masterlist Daryl x Reader Masterlist AO3 link
I'm finally dipping my toes into the world of Character x Reader writing. This is my first time writing in second person/x reader format, so please go easy on me or I'll cry. I'm posting this before I stare at it for too long and change my mind.
Part 2
A massive thank you to @dixons-sunshine for proofreading, helping with translating Daryl's dialogue into Daryl, giving me tips, and encouraging me to do it/post it. I love you sm 🖤

“Daryl? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Cocking an eyebrow, you looked past your shoulder at him, your new boyfriend’s eyes quickly averting once he realized he’d been caught.
With winter setting in and temperatures beginning to drop in Virginia, the two of you had been sent on a run to a nearby department store, your goal to find coats, boots, blankets, and whatever sort of winter necessities you could get your hands on. Amongst all the cold-weather attire, you’d found a little something hot for yourself.
“Dunno what ya talkin’ ‘bout,” he mumbled, his normal sun-kissed complexion becoming one akin to a fresh tomato.
Your gaze dropped to the material in your hands, your fingers dancing over the satin cups, and a small smirk crossed your lips. You were holding a set of Christmas lingerie—a babydoll style two-piece. The red cups and mesh of the flyaway bodice were bordered with a fluffy white trim that trailed down the center with a red thong to accompany it.
“Ah, I see,” you teased, your cheeks beginning to heat up as you held up the garment, “this why?”
You’d only been together for a few weeks, the farthest you’d gone in terms of anything physically being a heated make-out session with little hand exploration. You’d been itching for things to move further but not wanting to push any boundaries. Daryl was clearly skittish and uncomfortable in the realm of sex and romance. However, unbeknownst to you, he’d been itching for the same.
He pictured the mesh flowing around your hips as you twirled before him and the thong sliding over your thighs and falling to your ankles. His signature small smile appeared as he pictured your eyes glossed over with lust and thought about what every inch of your soft skin felt like in his work-worn hands. He was reveling in this sweet little daydream, and you’d caught him in it.
“It’s ok, Daryl. I’m flattered.” As you walked back to him, you purposely swayed your hips a little extra, drawing the archer’s eyes to them for just a moment. Yours fell to your feet, that sweet heat returning to your cheeks again.
“Flattered?” He sounded surprised by your choice of words, like you couldn’t possibly be flattered by his longing gaze and the lewd thoughts you knew he was having. Despite having finally made your relationship official after months of going in circles, he was confused by sparkle in your eye he’d caught a glimpse of when you first looked back at him.
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been…thinking about it too,” you assured, lashes fluttering as you brought your gaze up from the floor to meet his ocean eyes, “hinting at it for a while now. Hasn’t it been kind of obvious?”
The silence from him was loud, deafening as it practically echoing off the white walls. That alone was an answer enough for you.
A sweet giggle emanated from the depths of your chest, the sound like music to your man’s ears. “Okay, maybe not so obvious. I adore you, but you can be incredibly dense sometimes.”
“Grab the coats,” Daryl instructed, clearly flustered as he haphazardly gestured to a box on a nearby table. He was beginning to turn red again, somehow an even darker shade than he had before. He grabbed a box from off the floor and was quickly heading toward the front door. “Talk when we get back.”
“Talk…right…” you mused, a chuckle slipping past your lips as you stowed the lingerie away in your bag, “I’m sure that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie
GIF & © message below were made by me. Sparkle & 'continue reading' dividers are by @/anitalenia
#the dark elf writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#twd#the walking dead#twd fanfiction#twduniverse#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead fanfic#the walking dead fandom#the walking dead daryl#twd daryl dixon#daryl#daryl fanfiction#daryl twd#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl x fem reader#daryl x fem!reader
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✨Taking her in - Pt. 4✨
Summary: After Dean Winchester saves your life, he brings you into the safety of the bunker. As you grow older and stronger, Dean refuses to let you join the hunts, his overprotective behavior intensifying. But beneath his fierce protectiveness lies something darker—conflicted feelings he can’t face. As your 18th birthday approaches, Dean struggles to keep control, torn between his duty to protect you and emotions he’s buried for too long.
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: HUGE Age Gap, Immoral, Underage Reader, Language
Word Count: 5034
A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨
A week had passed since that tense night at the bar, and things between you and Dean had remained strained and awkward. The silence between you two had grown heavier, more charged, and it seemed like both of you were tiptoeing around each other, afraid to confront what was really going on. Dean had become more withdrawn, and though Sam hadn’t said anything, you could tell he’d noticed the shift in the dynamic as well.
You spent most of the week trying to sort through your emotions, grappling with the hurt and confusion Dean’s actions had caused, while also questioning your own feelings. Part of you wanted to confront him, to ask him what the hell was going on, but another part of you was terrified of what the answer might be.
So, when Jake called and asked you out, you hesitated.
You’d never really had much experience with guys—your life was complicated enough as it was, and with your lingering feelings for Dean, you’d never felt the need to complicate things further.
But your 18th birthday was approaching, and you knew it was time to make a change. You couldn’t keep living in limbo, pining after someone who seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length. Jake was a nice guy, uncomplicated, and maybe spending time with him would help you move on, help you forget about the tension that had been eating away at you.
So, you agreed to go out with Jake.
He suggested going to the movies, and you thought it sounded perfect—casual, low-pressure, a chance to just be a normal teenager for once. But as the evening approached, nerves began to creep in. You hadn’t been on a date before, and you weren’t entirely sure what to expect. Still, you were determined to give it a shot.
You chose a pretty summer dress, one that ended mid-thigh and made you feel confident and feminine. It was a light, flowy fabric that swished around your legs when you moved, a soft pastel color that complimented your complexion. You decided to leave your hair down, slightly curling the ends for a bit of extra polish, and applied a little makeup—just enough to enhance your features without feeling overdone.
As you took a final look in the mirror, a mix of excitement and anxiety fluttered in your stomach. This was new territory for you, and part of you wondered if you were really ready for it. But you knew you couldn’t keep waiting around for something that might never happen. It was time to take a step forward.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of your room and made your way to the library, where you knew Sam and Dean were likely holed up. As you approached, you heard the familiar sound of Castiel’s voice, which meant he was there as well.
Sam was the first to notice you. He looked up from the book he was reading, his eyes widening slightly as he took in your appearance. “Wow, (Y/N), you look great”, he said, smiling warmly.
Dean, who had been sitting across the table from Sam, glanced up as well. The moment his eyes landed on you, something unreadable flashed across his face—surprise, confusion, and maybe something darker, something he quickly tried to hide behind a neutral expression.
Castiel, ever the curious observer, tilted his head slightly. “You look different, (Y/N). Is there a special occasion?”.
You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice steady as you addressed the three of them. “I, uh, have a date. Jake asked me out, and we’re meeting at the cinema”. You hesitated for a moment before adding, “I was wondering if one of you could give me a ride? I’d rather not have him pick me up… here, you know?”.
Sam, always the supportive big brother type, immediately nodded. “Of course, I can drive you. No problem at all”.
But before Sam could stand up, Dean cleared his throat, his voice a little tighter than usual. “I’ll take her”, he said, his eyes fixed on you as he spoke. “I’m not doing anything right now anyway”.
The offer caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. There was a part of you that wanted to refuse, to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, but another part—the part that still cared deeply for him—couldn’t bring itself to say no.
“Okay, thanks”, you replied softly, your heart pounding as you met his gaze. Dean nodded once, his expression unreadable, and stood up from the table, grabbing his jacket.
Sam exchanged a glance with Castiel, who merely observed the exchange with his usual calm demeanor. Sam seemed to pick up on the tension, but he didn’t say anything, instead giving you a reassuring smile. “Have fun tonight, (Y/N). You deserve it”.
Dean led the way out of the library, and you followed him, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The walk to the Impala was quiet, neither of you saying a word, but the air between you crackled with unspoken thoughts and emotions.
When you finally reached the car, Dean opened the passenger door for you, something he hadn’t done in a while. You thanked him quietly and slid into the seat, your hands nervously smoothing down the fabric of your dress as he got into the driver’s seat.
The drive was just as tense as the walk had been, the silence thick with everything you weren’t saying. You could feel Dean glancing at you every now and then, but you kept your eyes on the road, trying to steady your breathing and calm the nerves that were twisting your stomach into knots.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dean broke the silence. “So, this Jake guy… what’s he like?”.
His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it that you couldn’t quite ignore. You hesitated before answering, unsure of how much to say. “He’s nice”, you replied simply, not wanting to give away too much. “We only talked a little bit at the bar, but he seems like a good guy”.
Dean kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. The silence between you grew heavier, the tension almost unbearable. He was quiet for a long while, clearly struggling with something. You could see the muscles in his jaw working as he fought to find the right words, his usual confidence replaced by an uncharacteristic uncertainty.
Finally, he cleared his throat, his voice sounding strained as he spoke. “So, uh… are you planning on doing… anything tonight?”. The question came out awkwardly, almost as if he didn’t want to say it but felt compelled to.
You glanced at him, your brows furrowing in confusion at the question. “What do you mean, ‘anything’?”, you asked, your tone laced with genuine curiosity.
Dean hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the heat rising in his face, and before he could talk himself out of it, he fumbled with the door pocket of the Impala, his hand diving inside and emerging with three small foil packages. Without meeting your gaze, he handed them to you, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.
You stared at the condoms in your hand, your own face flushing with embarrassment as the reality of what he was suggesting hit you. Neither of you spoke for a moment, both of you too flustered to find the right words.
Dean cleared his throat again, trying to break the tension. “I just… I wanted you to be prepared. You know, in case…”. His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. He fumbled with his words, feeling completely out of his depth. This wasn’t a conversation he ever thought he’d have with you, and the awkwardness of it was almost too much to bear. “Uh, sometimes… guys don’t always have them with them, you know?”, he mumbled, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.
You stared down at the condoms in your hand, turning them over curiously. This was the first time you’d ever held one, and the reality of what they represented was starting to sink in. The embarrassment you felt was almost overwhelming, but underneath it was a deeper uncertainty—was this really what was expected on a first date?
“Is that… is that what guys expect on the first date?”, you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt shy and a little vulnerable, unsure of what the answer might be. You had no real experience in these matters, and the thought of Jake—or anyone—expecting something you weren’t ready for made your heart race with anxiety.
Dean risked a quick glance at you, and for the first time, he really noticed how you were handling the condoms—how you were fumbling with the packages, your fingers tracing the edges with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. It was then that it hit him: you might not have much, if any, experience with this. The realization made him pause, his own awkwardness momentarily forgotten as concern took over.
He opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. How could he ask you about something so personal without making it even more awkward? He cleared his throat again, trying to find the right words. “Uh… (Y/N), have you… I mean, have you ever… done anything like this before?”.
His voice was soft now, careful, as if he was afraid of hurting you with the question. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was asking, but he knew he had to find out—if only to make sure you were okay, that you weren’t walking into something you weren’t ready for.
You felt your cheeks flush even deeper at his question, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you kept your eyes on the packages in your hand, your fingers still nervously tracing the edges. “No”, you admitted quietly, the word barely audible. “I… I haven’t”.
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken thoughts and emotions. Dean wasn’t sure what to say, how to respond to that. Part of him felt protective, wanting to make sure that you weren’t pressured into anything, while another part of him was grappling with the realization that you were even more innocent than he’d thought.
His grip on the steering wheel tightened again, his mind racing. He had always known you were younger, that you hadn’t had the same life experiences as him, but hearing you say it out loud made it feel more real, more immediate. It also made him painfully aware of how much he didn’t want you to get hurt.
Dean tried to focus on the road, but his mind kept wandering back to what you’d just confessed. The thought of you being so inexperienced, of being a virgin, stirred something deep inside him, something that he knew he shouldn’t be feeling. It wasn’t just the protective instinct that had always driven him to look out for you—it was something more primal, something that made his heart beat faster.
He couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting to places they shouldn’t. He wondered what it would be like to be your first, to be the one to guide you through something so intimate. The idea of how you might feel crossed his mind before he could push it away, and it made his chest tighten with both desire and guilt. This wasn’t right; he shouldn’t be thinking about you this way. You were young, innocent, and completely unaware of the effect you were having on him.
Dean swallowed hard, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He knew he needed to get a grip, to focus on being the supportive friend you needed right now, not someone who was entertaining thoughts that crossed a line he couldn’t afford to cross.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for”, Dean finally said, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He kept his eyes on the road, afraid that if he looked at you, you might see the turmoil in his gaze. “You’re in control here, okay? No one gets to pressure you into anything”.
His words were sincere, and he meant every one of them. But there was still that nagging voice in the back of his mind, the one that kept whispering about what it would be like if things were different—if he were the one you were going out with tonight.
You nodded, slipping the condoms into your handbag, even though the entire situation made you feel more uncertain than ever. The weight of the conversation hung in the air, making the silence between you and Dean feel thick and uncomfortable. You could sense the tension radiating off him, and it only made your own nerves worse.
For a long while, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the hum of the Impala’s engine as it rumbled along the road. Your mind was spinning with questions and doubts, but one kept coming to the forefront, one that you felt too embarrassed to voice but couldn’t ignore.
Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Dean?”, you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dean glanced at you, his heart skipping a beat at the way you said his name, so hesitant, so unsure. “Yeah?”, he replied, trying to keep his voice steady, though his nerves were starting to fray.
You hesitated, your fingers fiddling with the strap of your handbag as you struggled to find the right words. You’d never been more nervous in your life, and the thought of asking Dean what you were about to ask made your stomach churn with anxiety. But you needed to know. You needed someone you trusted to help you understand what you might be walking into tonight.
“What should I… I mean, if things get serious tonight, what should I do?”, you asked, stumbling over your words. You felt your face flush with embarrassment, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve never… I don’t know what to expect, or how to… you know, handle it”.
Dean’s mind reeling as he processed your question. Out of all the conversations he’d imagined having with you, this was not one of them. He felt a wave of panic rise up inside him, but he pushed it down, trying to stay calm for your sake.
“You’re asking for… the talk?”, Dean asked, his voice a bit higher than usual, betraying his own nerves.
You nodded, still not meeting his gaze. “Yeah… I guess I am”.
Dean felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. He was completely out of his depth here, and the idea of having this conversation with you—of all people—was overwhelming. But he also knew that you were coming to him because you trusted him, because you didn’t have anyone else to ask, and that made it impossible for him to refuse.
Dean wished you had asked Sam for this talk instead. Sam was the one who always had the right words, the one who could handle these kinds of conversations without getting flustered. Dean wasn’t exactly known for his way with words, especially when it came to something as delicate as this. But here you were, trusting him to guide you through something that was clearly making you nervous, and he couldn’t let you down.
He took a deep breath, trying to push through his own discomfort. “Okay, um, let’s see…”, he began, fumbling for a starting point. “So, what do you, uh… what do you already know about… you know, sex and all that?”. His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he inwardly cursed himself for being so awkward.
You hesitated, biting your lip as you tried to figure out how to explain. “I mean, I know the basics… like, I know how it’s supposed to work, technically”, you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve never actually… done anything. And I’ve seen some stuff online, but not a whole video. Just snippets here and there. It’s all kind of… overwhelming”.
Dean could feel his discomfort mounting with every word you spoke, and the tension in the car was almost palpable. He tried to focus on being the calm, supportive presence you needed, but his body was betraying him in the worst possible way. The more you talked about your inexperience, about how overwhelming it all felt, the more his mind started to wander to places it definitely shouldn’t.
He shifted in his seat, hoping you wouldn’t notice the growing problem he was having. It was embarrassing, to say the least, and it only made the situation more difficult to handle. This wasn’t supposed to happen—not now, not with you. But the combination of your vulnerability, your trust in him, and the way you were looking at him with those wide, innocent eyes was pushing him to the brink.
“Yeah, uh… that makes sense”, Dean mumbled, trying to keep his voice steady and hoping you wouldn’t pick up on the strain in his tone. “It’s normal to feel overwhelmed, especially when it’s all new. But you don’t have to rush into anything, okay? You should only do what you’re comfortable with”.
He could feel the heat rising in his face, and he silently cursed himself for letting his thoughts get the better of him. This was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with right now—his body reacting in a way that was completely inappropriate, given the circumstances. He was supposed to be your protector, your confidant, not some creep who couldn’t keep his thoughts straight.
You seemed to relax a little at his words, nodding as you absorbed what he was saying. “I just… I don’t want to mess up, you know? I don’t want to do something wrong”.
Dean swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus on your concerns rather than the increasingly uncomfortable situation in his jeans.
He wanted to be there for you, to offer the support and guidance you needed, but his own feelings and physical reaction were clouding his judgment. He knew it was wrong to let his mind wander to the thought of being your first, especially when you were so vulnerable and looking to him for reassurance.
He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and refocus. “Look”, he said, his voice steadier now, though still strained. “What’s most important is that you do what feels right for you. If you’re not sure, or if something doesn’t feel right, don’t be afraid to say no. You have every right to change your mind or to ask for more time”.
You nodded, clearly absorbing his words. “I guess I’m just really nervous about it all”, you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “It’s so much to think about, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone”.
Dean felt a pang of guilt. You shouldn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone. You should be focusing on your own comfort and readiness. He tried to keep his mind on supporting you, pushing away the more inappropriate thoughts that had been creeping in. “You’re not going to disappoint anyone”, he said firmly.
You sighed heavily, your eyes filled with anxiety. “But what if I can’t even get those stupid things on and ruin the moment?”, you asked, your frustration evident as you shook your bag with the packages inside.
Dean’s heart clenched as he heard the worry in your voice. He hated that you were feeling so much pressure about something that should be your choice, your moment, not something dictated by anyone else’s expectations. But more than that, he hated how his mind kept slipping into dangerous territory, thinking about what it would be like if he were the one to guide you through it, to be your first.
Dean swallowed hard, doing his best to stay focused on giving you the support you needed. He couldn’t let his thoughts stray, not when you were relying on him. “Listen”, he started, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “First of all, there’s no such thing as ruining the moment. It’s not about doing everything perfectly—it’s about being comfortable and enjoying the experience. And if something doesn’t go right, it’s not the end of the world”.
He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “As for, uh, putting it on… it’s really not as complicated as it seems. It might feel awkward at first, but that’s normal. You can always practice if it makes you feel more confident. But honestly, any guy worth your time is going to be patient and help you through it. It’s not just on you to figure it all out”.
You hid your face in your hands, embarrassed and overwhelmed by the conversation. “Why are you so confident about all this?”, you mumbled, your voice muffled by your hands. “You’re always with another girl, like it’s no big deal. How do you handle it without being nervous or awkward?”.
Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your words. It was a sound that held a mix of amusement and something deeper—maybe a little sadness at the reality of his life and the way you saw him. “It’s not as easy as it looks, kid”, he said, trying to keep his tone light, though there was a hint of weariness in his voice. “I’ve had a lot more practice, and I’ve been around long enough to learn how to hide the nerves”.
He glanced over at you, noticing how small and unsure you looked in that moment. You were just seventeen, on the verge of becoming an adult, and here you were, asking him questions that reminded him just how different your lives were. While you were still figuring things out, still full of innocence and uncertainty, he was already pushing 38, with more scars—both physical and emotional—than he cared to count.
Dean sighed, his smile fading slightly as he tried to offer you some reassurance. “It’s normal to feel nervous, especially the first time. Hell, everyone does. But that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you or that you’re not ready. It just means you’re human”.
Dean sighed deeply, the weight of his own emotions pressing down on him. This conversation was pushing him to confront feelings he had been trying to ignore for a long time. He knew he had to keep it together, to give you the advice you needed without letting his personal feelings cloud his judgment. But it was getting harder and harder to separate the two.
“It’s better to just get to know the guy first”, Dean mumbled, his voice softer, more introspective. “You don’t have to rush into anything, especially not when it’s your first time. That’s something that should be… special. It should be with someone you know, someone you trust completely���.
He paused, glancing at you again, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and something deeper that he couldn’t quite put into words. “The first time… it’s not just about the physical stuff. It’s about feeling safe, feeling like you’re with someone who cares about you, who respects you. And if you’re not sure about that, then it’s okay to wait. You’ve got time”.
Dean could feel the truth of his words resonating in his own heart. The idea of you being with someone who didn’t value you the way you deserved made something twist painfully inside him. He wanted to protect you from that, to make sure that your first experience was with someone who saw you for who you truly were—someone who cherished you.
He swallowed hard, trying to push back the emotions that were threatening to surface. This wasn’t about him. It was about you and making sure you were okay, making sure you knew that you didn’t have to rush into anything just because you felt like it was expected.
“Just… take your time, okay?”, Dean continued, his voice almost pleading. “You deserve to feel safe, and you deserve to be with someone who makes you feel that way. Don’t do it just because you think you have to, or because you’re worried about what he might think. Do it when you’re ready, with someone who’s worth it”.
You pressed your thighs together, a subtle movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Dean. The way your legs looked—so smooth, so perfect—only made it harder for him to stay focused on the conversation. He had to fight the urge to let his eyes linger, to let his thoughts wander.
“Thank you”, you mumbled, your voice soft and sincere. There was a vulnerability in your words, a quiet gratitude that made something in Dean’s chest tighten. You were trusting him with something incredibly personal, and the weight of that trust was not lost on him.
Dean forced a small smile, though inside, he was anything but calm. “You don’t have to thank me”, he said gently. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? You’re important, and you deserve to be with someone who sees that”.
The moment hung between you, filled with all the things left unsaid. Dean knew he should be relieved that you’d taken his advice to heart, but part of him was still grappling with the conflicting emotions that had surfaced during this conversation.
As you sat there, still processing everything he’d said, Dean’s eyes inadvertently drifted back to your legs, to the way you were sitting so close to him. It was a struggle to pull his thoughts back to where they should be, to remind himself that you were off-limits, that he couldn’t cross that line no matter how much his emotions tried to push him in that direction.
But for now, he would push those feelings down, bury them deep where they wouldn’t interfere with what mattered most—keeping you safe and making sure you were okay.
“Ready to go in?”, Dean asked after a moment, his voice steady but still tinged with the remnants of everything he was trying to hold back.
You hadn’t even realized that Dean had already parked in front of the cinema. You were so caught up in your thoughts, in the intensity of the conversation you’d just had, that it took a moment for you to gather yourself. Taking a deep breath, you nodded, as if trying to convince yourself that you were ready for this, that you could handle whatever the night might bring.
But before you got out of the car, you turned to Dean, your eyes wide and uncertain. “Do I… do I look okay?”, you asked, your voice soft as you gestured to yourself, seeking reassurance. “I mean, does this dress look alright? Is my hair okay?”.
Dean’s mouth went dry at the question. You were asking him if you looked okay, but the truth was, you looked more than okay. You looked stunning, beautiful in a way that made it hard for him to breathe. The dress hugged your figure in all the right places, and the way your hair framed your face only added to the effect. It was a struggle to keep his thoughts in check, to focus on being the supportive friend when all he could think about was how gorgeous you looked.
For a moment, he was at a loss for words. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “You look… perfect”, he finally managed, his voice a little rougher than he intended. “Seriously, you look amazing. Jake’s a lucky guy”.
Your eyes lit up at his words, a small, grateful smile spreading across your face. “Thanks, Dean”, you said, clearly relieved. His words seemed to give you the boost of confidence you needed, and you took another deep breath, ready to face the evening ahead.
Dean forced a smile in return, though inside, he was wrestling with emotions he didn’t fully understand. He didn’t want to let you go, didn’t want to see you walk into that cinema with someone else, but he knew he had to. You deserved to have fun, to experience life, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.
“Alright”, Dean said, trying to keep his tone light as he unlocked the car doors. “Go knock ‘em dead, kiddo. And remember, if you need anything, I’m just a phone call away”.
You nodded, giving him one last smile before you opened the door and stepped out of the car. Dean watched as you walked towards the entrance of the cinema, his heart heavy.
As you disappeared inside, Dean let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He knew tonight would be tough, but he had to keep it together—for you and for himself. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, just staring at the cinema, before finally starting the car and driving away, his mind still spinning with everything that had just happened.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰
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Part 5
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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @ladykitana90 @fullbelieverheart @chainsawsangel @zaratahir @rebecca-hvnstn @maackiimoo @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @lachelledavies-winchester @kamisobsessed @kr804573
#jensen ackles#dean and sam#dean and cas#sam and dean#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#taking her in
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FROSTBOUND— frost giant! loki laufeyson x asgradian! reader
WARNINGS: obsession.
The wind howled through the shattered halls of the palace, carrying the scent of ice and blood. The golden splendor of Asgard was dulled under the weight of an invading winter—unnatural, creeping through the stone like a curse. You moved through the corridors with measured steps, your heart pounding despite the calm mask you wore. The battle had been lost before it began.
You found him in the throne room.
Loki sat upon the Allfather’s throne, his long fingers resting against the armrests, his body draped in rich furs that contrasted the icy blue of his skin. His red eyes glowed like embers against the frost. He was unrecognizable from the man you had once known—once trusted. The trickster prince, exiled, betrayed, humiliated, had returned in a form that Asgard had long feared.
“You’re quieter than I expected,” Loki mused, tilting his head as he regarded you. “Not even a gasp of horror?”
Your jaw tightened. “I’ve seen horrors far worse than blue skin.”
His lips curled into a smirk, but his amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, but this is not merely a change in complexion, little Asgardian. This is what I have always been. What your precious kingdom sought to erase.”
Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. “You could have come back to us. You could have—”
“What?” His voice darkened, amusement vanishing like mist. “Begged for acceptance? Bowed to the ones who raised me on lies?”
A chill settled in your bones that had nothing to do with the frost creeping along the golden floor. The Loki before you was colder, darker, touched by something far more ruthless than mere vengeance.
“You came to kill me, didn’t you?” he continued. “Or at least attempt to.”
You didn’t answer. The blade at your side felt heavier than it had before.
Loki sighed, rising from the throne with predatory grace. “And yet you hesitate. How fascinating.” He stepped toward you, slow and deliberate, his towering frame casting a shadow that swallowed you whole. “Tell me, dearest, do you hesitate because you fear failure?” He reached out, brushing a gloved hand against your cheek. “Or because, deep down, you know you belong to me?”
A shiver ran through you, but you refused to step back. “I belong to no one.”
His smirk returned, wicked and knowing. “We shall see.”
Loki’s fingers lingered against your skin, his touch impossibly cold yet searing in its intensity. You wanted to recoil, to strike him down, but something in his gaze held you captive.
“You don’t flinch,” he observed, his voice a dark purr. “Even now, when the rest of Asgard trembles at my feet, you stand before me like a defiant little flame in the storm.”
Your jaw tightened. “You expect me to cower?”
“I expect you to submit.”
The words coiled around you like an enchantment, thick with promise and warning. Loki had always been dangerous, but now—like this—he was something else entirely. A king without mercy. A god unchained.
And yet, you knew him.
“You want me to kneel?” you taunted, tilting your chin up. “You’ll have to force me.”
Loki’s smirk deepened, amusement flickering in his crimson eyes like an ember catching wind. “Oh, I intend to.”
Before you could move, ice snaked around your wrists, coiling tight as it wrenched your arms behind your back. The cold burned, sharp enough to steal your breath. You struggled, but the ice only tightened, forcing you down onto your knees before him.
“Look at you,” he murmured, circling you like a beast toying with its prey. “Asgard’s proud warrior, brought to her knees by the very power your people deemed monstrous.”
Your breaths came sharp and fast, fury warring with something far more dangerous in your chest. Loki had always been clever, always known how to unearth the hidden parts of you that you fought to keep buried. And now, with the weight of his magic pressing against your skin, you knew he could feel it—the way your body responded, the way your mind betrayed you with the smallest flicker of intrigue.
Loki leaned in, his voice a breath against your ear. “Do you hate me for it?”
You lifted your gaze to meet his, fire burning behind your eyes. “I will never be yours.”
His lips curled into something cruel. “Sweet liar.”
The ice around you melted away in an instant, and before you could react, Loki gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His touch was colder than death, but his eyes burned with something else—something darker, something that made your pulse quicken in ways it shouldn’t.
“You will be,” he whispered. “One way or another.”
#avengers#x reader#reader insert#x female reader#the avengers#marvel x you#marvel x reader#marvel#dark loki laufeyson#loki x you#dark loki#loki x reader#frost giant loki#mcu loki#loki fanfic#marvel loki#loki odinson#loki laufeyson#loki#loki layfeyson x you#loki laufesyon x reader#loki laufeyson x you
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Mess It Up
wc: 1.2k | miu masterlist
cw: second chance romance, shy! reader, plus! size reader, implied (?) anxiety and mother issues
“I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in, we can make it better, breaking every habit.”
You currently have two problems at the moment. One, you’re late to meet your friends and two, your jeans don’t seem to fit right today. Standing in the mirror you couldn’t help but glare at yourself. Something was off. your jeans felt too tight around your waist. It made you uncomfortable. You know it’s your mind tricking you but you can’t seem to get rid of that voice in your head. You have to think of a solution fast.
You couldn’t help but sigh, as you were rushing out of your apartment, in your uncomfortable jeans to meet Mary ; Lily ; Lily's new boyfriend and new boyfriend’s friends. You were nervous to say the least. You hated meeting new people. You hated speaking. Each time You spoke You felt clumsy and awkward with your words. you can’t help but fell a little sad. You used to know how to speak with your mind when you were seventeen, but now at the age of twenty you think all you can utter is stiff and unbearable small talk.
But you had a little hope. You have Mary to buffer off of today. Mary loves to talk. And you were forever grateful for that. That means you won’t have to say much today. Hell Mary might even introduce you to Lily's new boyfriend and his friends for you! In fact you’re counting on it.
Stomach queasy, jeans tight around your chubby stomach, and mind screaming for you to turn around and leave. You open the door to the pub, nose twitching to the smell of greasy foods and cheap beer. But you smile, though this place reeked; it was one of your favorite spots to meet with Lily and Mary. You have so many memories here.
“Y/n! Over here!” your eyes glanced over to your friend, Mary, who is not at your regular table. she sits at a slightly larger table. Although you’re still feeling nervous you can’t help but smile at the dark haired girl who’s slightly standing with her hand raised high, waving at you to join her. You wave to Mary as you walk over.
“You look great!” Mary stands, wrapping her arms around you. Hugging you tightly. you always seem to calm around Mary. You don't feel as jumpy from when you walked it.
“You too!” you try to smile, with your mouth open showing your teeth. Showing you’re very happy to be there, but somehow it always feels awkward. Unnatural in a way. You smile again, this time mouth closed but your smile is wide. Though you were dreading coming today, you already feel it’ll be okay.
“Hey!” you and mary turn to look at your third friend, rushing up to greet her.
Lily smiles, her eyes crinkle. you’ve always found Lily beautiful. Her body has always been nicely curved, skin freckled, loose curly hair that was a nice shade of red and beautiful green eyes that always stood out. Lily always looked lovely. “This is James.”
Letting go of Lily, you turn your head over to your friend's new boyfriend. James was tall. He was a few inches taller than Mary who stood at five-eight. He had to be at least six feet tall. His complexion was bronze and glowly, his smile was bright. It was contagious. His hair was dark, wild and curly. He wore something simple. A white shirt with a brown button up over it, with blue jeans. His wide rimmed glasses stood out. They fit him perfectly.
“Hello!” He smiled rather crookedly, raising his hand in hello. You decided right then and there he’d be good for Lily.
“Hi, is it just you?” Though polite, Mary couldn’t help but be blunt.
“Er- no, my mates-“ before James could finish, two more boys strolled in.
Both boys were pale and had blue eyes, the shortest of the two lad’s had a red face that looked like it came from sunburn over the summer heat, with blond hair that only slightly curled at the end. And though he had blue eyes like the other boy his was a darker blue. The taller boy clearly used sunscreen unlike the other, his skin had no signs of redness. His eyes were light blue- an almost silver like color. His hair was long, curly and dark. He was very pretty.
“I’m Sirius.” he smiles, and claps the smallest boy on his back. “This is Peter, but we call him Pete.”
“I told you to not call me that, idiot.” Peter snips at his friend, taking Sirius’ hand off his back. “I’m Peter!” he turns back to the girls, reintroducing himself.
“Where’s moony?” James looks over to his friends with a concerned look on his face.
“He’s on his wa-“
“I’m here.” Your heart dropped at the sound of the man’s voice. You turn your head and your jaw drops a little. You’d never thought you would have to run into him ever again. Remus Lupin, your once best friend, now just a stranger.
It was strange seeing Remus again. He was taller, his face and body more built and leaner than You remembered. His scars are still the same. One large and faded scar across his nose. starting from his left cheek to the right one. Another scar slightly crossing the original scar vertically on his left cheek continuing to cross over his left eye and eyebrow. He has another few small scars on his chin and lower lip. He still has his small freckles (which he desperately hated) from when he was a boy. His hair was still a chocolate brown color, the only different thing about his hair was it wasn’t just a mop of curls like the last time you saw him, his hair was shaped into a nice mod cut.
You were surprised at how Remus could look the same yet, so different. you were shocked. He seemed to be a little caught off guard when you both made eye contact.
Lily breaks the small tension, with the clap of her hands. “Great now that everyone’s here, I believe you two need to introduce yourselves!” She turns over to you and Mary, waiting.
“I’m Mary.” Mary smiles, keeping her distance. Not knowing what else to say. Turning her head over to you.
“Oh, and I’m Y/n.” You say it a little awkward, feeling slightly embarrassed. Sirius can’t help but laugh a little. “You don’t speak much, do you?” He asks, a charming smile in tow.
“That's our Y/n, she doesn't really talk around new people.” Mary offered, wrapping her arm around you. Her smile wide. She always thought your “shyness” was adorable.
You couldn’t help but feel flustered and self-conscious. It was true you never really talk while being introduced to new people. You grew shy overtime with speaking. Your mum always used to say you always talked too much. So you taught yourself to quiet down.
You glance at Remus, his eyebrows were raised in question, his eyes squinting. You couldn’t help but look at the scar that went across Remus’ left eyebrow. It was long and it always stretches when he lifts up his eyebrows. You always couldn’t help but stare at it, it suits him. You liked it. but, you knew Remus was trying to read you. You already knew what he was thinking: when did y/n y/l/n become shy? You could laugh, you started quieting down when Remus left.
Looking away from his scar, you met his dark brown eyes. His stare still hard and questioning. All you could do was shrug. You had nothing to say, not anymore. Looking back to Mary and Sirius you pulled away from Mary and took Sirius’ hand, shaking it with a closed and timid smile.
#remus lupin#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin angst#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x reader angst#remus lupin x reader fluff#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x plus size reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin fanfiction#james potter#sirius black#lily evans#mary mcdonald#peter pettigrew#james potter x platonic!reader#sirius black x platonic!reader#peter pettigrew x platonic!reader
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cw: finished this draft thats been rotting in my drive since 2021-2022. established relationship with the affectionate angel 😇💕💕 lots of fluff and sweetness in spite of embarrassment, references to deeper intimacy at the end, but it's just a line. beta'd with my own two eyes and a prayer, all mistakes are mine
simeon wondered if you were angry. no, that didn’t seem likely. not first thing in the morning. “are you alright?” he still asked, concern lacing your name. your hold on his wrist tightened for just a fraction.
“….yes,” you responded, albeit hesitantly, head glancing over your shoulder for the barest moment before slowing your brisk walking pace altogether. inhaled, then exhaled. “sorry.” a hint of embarrassment crept into your voice. “didn’t want anyone around.”
the both of you reached a secluded area of the RAD courtyard. "did something happen back at the house of lamentation?" you were not one to be so affected by something as juvenile as teasing. "another sermon from lucifer?" his palm searched for yours, interlacing your fingers together.
"thankfully, not." you let go of him, toying with the drawstrings of your hoodie instead.
"are you feeling ill, perhaps? you shouldn't push yourself too much - "
"no, no, no! it's nothing serious, i promise." you'd have to forgive him for being overbearing, he can't quite read your expression as well since you came to campus in a mask and hoodie. "i'm just…"
"why don't we sit down?" simeon's voice was gentle as he guided you to one of the stone benches. "i'll listen."
"…i already told you," you mumbled, then sighed. "…i guess i'll just show you. please don't laugh."
the realization dawned on him as soon as you tugged down the hood of your jacket. well, it was impossible not to notice the new blemishes dotting the apples of your cheeks. some lighter, others darker than your complexion. constellations on your skin.
a warm mix of embarrassment and affection bubbled up within simeon once you fully pulled down the facemask. "oh. those are - "
"asmo called them 'angel kisses,'" you finished his sentence. the words trailed off into a loud, loud silence.
simeon's smile was met with your lips pulling into a frown - or would it be more apt to describe it as a pout? - your palms reflexively moved to obscure the new marks as best as they could. "they didn't appear until now, does that mean, everything before…us wasn't…?"
"no! no, that's not true." you're drawn into a tight hug. simeon's voice dropped to a decibel low enough for only your ears. "i'm guessing they're only showing now because - "
oh, when you looked at him with those eyes - open and trusting and utterly adorable - his heart was going to burst from the sheer affection he held for you.
" - i want to show you these feelings every time we're together, even if there isn't a special occasion at the moment." angels were created to love humans wholly and unconditionally, but this went beyond his divine programming. encompassed a mere fraction of the free will that deeply belonged to humans. "and i can't control myself that well when we're together, i'm - i'm sorry about that."
your knuckles brushed against his cheek, gentle and soothing. followed by the press of your lips. "don't be, i'm sorry for overthinking."
he'd half a mind to mirror the chaste kiss, but decided better - kissing the top of your head. both a sort of blessing and gesture of love in its purest form. "i should have explained that beforehand," simeon mused. "is there anything else burdening you?"
"nothing, well…" that shy look crept back onto your features. "maybe, anywhere under the collar's fine. like, for when i have to be out the next day?"
"oh. oh!" a bashful laugh slipped from him. simeon had to get used to the burn of mortification alongside the swell of affection. "of course! next time, i'll remember that."
(no wonder his celestial magic always went a little haywire when he was with you.)
#obey me simeon x reader#obm simeon x reader#obm x reader#obey me x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me simeon#obm simeon#gn!reader#dellet-writings#cw suggestive
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𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆.
SUMMARY: you & jj are sickly in love with eachother. ( inspired from our song by taylor swift. )
PAIRINGS: jj maybank x fem!reader
WARNINGS: possible cursing , tooth rotting fluff.
“ i was riding shot gun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car. he’s got one hand on the steering wheel , the other on my— heart. ”
John B wasn’t always willing to let JJ take the Twinkie on a whim. He was very protective of what he called ‘his baby.’ But he could only take being aggravated by JJ for so long before cracking— which is what got you sitting in the passenger seat while JJ drove you around the island this Saturday evening.
It was a little past three. The two of you had gotten breakfast , walked the beach , ate lunch— even squeezed in taking out the boat to the marsh. Your cheeks were red from the sun beating down on you , the hot summer air kissing at your skin.
Your hair flew all around you as you leaned against the head rest , letting the wind do whatever it wanted. JJ sat beside you with a peaceful look on his face , resting one hand comfortable on the steering wheel— the other reaching over the center seat to grab your thigh. His ring—clad finger burning at your skin , making your spine feel all ticklish.
“ i look around , turn the radio down he says ‘ baby is something wrong? ’ i say ‘nothing i was just thinking how we don’t have a song. ’ ”
The silence was comfortable as it surrounded the two of you. With the radio playing softly and the wind whipping in your ears , you looked over you shoulder to look at the side of JJ’s face. You couldn’t help your hand from wandering , brushing at the side of his cheek gently. He glanced at you with a smile , letting his cheeks turn a light shade of pink.
You hummed to yourself , a thought popping into your head. Pulling away , you turned the radio down and adjusted your body and seatbelt to fully face him.
The sudden change made JJ look at you curiously , scanning your face for any sign of unhappiness. “Something wrong , sweet girl?”
His nickname for you always made you flush a darker shade of your usual complexion. The reaction making him smirk proudly. “No.” You shrugged. “I was just thinking how we don’t have a song.”
“A song?” He repeated questionably.
“Like a relationship song.” You chuckled. “Like a song that comes on the radio that reminds us of— well us. That makes us get all mushy , gushy and teary–eyed because we’re so in love.” Singing your last couple of words , JJ giggled at you.
JJ thought to himself for a second. “We have our own song.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Our own song?”
“Yeah you know—”
“ he says ‘ our song is the slam of screen doors , sneaking out late tapping on your window— when we’re on the phone and you talk real slow , ‘cus it’s late and your momma don’t know. ’ ”
He began talking about the beginning of your relationship and how fun it had been. Coming from different sides of the island , neither of you knew how it would work. You were too afraid to tell your parents , and he was too scared to tell the Pogue’s.
You remembered how you’d dash out the house after school so nobody would ask you questions— screaming “bye” to your mother as you raced down the road where JJ would wait for you either in the Twinkie or on his bike.
Sometimes he’d come after your parents had been to sleep , tapping on your window.
“What in the world are you doing here?” You shouted just above a whisper , holding your light little nightgown to your body whilst looking towards the ground where JJ stood grinning up at you.
“Coming to see you.” He said while holding up a single flower that was clearly from your neighbor. “I haven’t seen you all day and I missed you.”
You couldn’t help the smile that danced its way onto your face as you looked at him , shaking your head in disbelief. “If you get caught , you’re dead meat.” If your parents had heard him— a Pogue of all people outside your house at 12am , it wouldn’t be anything nice.
JJ only shrugged. “It’ll be worth it if you come down for just like a second and kiss me.”
Biting your bottom lip hesitantly , his hopeful face was too hard to refuse. “Give me two seconds.”
The memory caused butterflies to swirl in your stomach. The feeling you had got then , still so real now. His boyish charm had always drew you in.
“Remember when you’d call me and you didn’t want John B to hear you so you just mumbled into your headphone microphone the whole time?”
“I can barely hear you.” You sighed into your phone. Wincing at how loud it sounded when JJ shifted even slightly in his bed.
“’m sorry. I just miss your voice but JB has thin walls. He’ll hear me without ‘em.” JJ sighed , trying his best not to breathe too harshly.
Smiling softly , you nodded your head before remembering he couldn’t see you. “I know , just wish we didn’t have to sneak like this.”
“We won’t always.” JJ reassured you. “After I meet your parents , you’ll meet the Pogue’s.”
“Yeah.” You grinned to yourself. “And I can kiss you wherever I want.”
They were so long ago. Those sweet , little memories. It all seemed like forever since then. You two were just two teenagers love , sneaking kisses whenever you could— your heart beating as fast as it possibly could by just thinking about him. You couldn’t get enough of being with him , your mind always thinking of him and wondering when you’d see him again. You remembered how sick your friends would get after hearing you go on and on about him , whispering all the sweet nothings to your girlfriends about your ‘semi–secret’ relationship.
Perching forward , you couldn’t help but kiss JJ’s cheek gently. “Do you even know how much I love you?” You asked him , wrapping your arms around his neck. The seatbelt hurt your hips just a bit , but being as close as you could to JJ triumphant it.
“I don’t know—” he teased , a loud laugh bubbling from the back of his throat. His genuine laugh always making something spark inside of you. “Yeah , sweet girl. I do.” JJ nodded and let his head fall to the side , resisting the urge to flutter his eyes closed at the soft touch of your fingers in his scalp. “I love you back.”
His words made you melt , falling into him. The air that wrapped around the two of you was light hearted and sweet. JJ’s head held high as he proudly drove you around , passing by random strangers. He’d wave at them with the biggest smile before pointing at you , mouthing “Right?”
JJ’s antic sending you into a fit of giggles each time while you swatted at his arm stubbornly.
“I don’t think there’s any song out there that could describe how obsessed I am with you—” JJ blurted out. “’cus I swear I’m gonna marry you one day.”
Beaming at your boyfriends words , you held onto him tighter. “I can’t wait.”
#Spotify#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#outer banks imagines#jj maybank fanfiction#outer banks#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank x you#jj maybank blurb#jj maybank x kook!reader#jj maybank x reader blurb#jj maybank x y/n#taylor swift#our song#jj obx#obx fanfiction#obx jj x reader#obx jj#outer banks requests#outer banks blurb#outer banks jj#jj outer banks
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Ashes and Saltwater


merman!Ted X fem!reader
genre : dark fantasy (one shot - angst )
note : that idea has been on my mind for a while and I've decided to write that self-indulgent reader insert in a whim. I also kinda wanted to experiment with third person POV so I initially wrote the whole piece with it since it felt more natural for me to write. Yet I ended up editing it to the second person POV, I reckon might experiment with it more in the future.
For a brief moment, you held your breath, hoping the deafening pain would subside. Your hand pressed against the wound on your abdomen, trying desperately to distract yourself from the overwhelming intrusive thoughts about your imminent and certain death. Gasping for air, your legs gave out, and you collapsed to your knees on the cold sand, your glassy eyes staring at the vast expanse of the sea before you. Only the cries of the gulls gave you a fleeting sense of peace as the poison slowly invaded your body.
Trembling, your hand released the blood-stained sword whose blade had pierced the flesh of the inhumanly large spider that had attacked you earlier in the forest. The blade, coated in the green blood of the creature, fell to the sand with an almost inaudible sound. The sky was overcast, gray, and a nearly deafening silence enveloped the place. Tears streaked your cheeks as you looked one last time at the horizon where it met the navy-blue quiet sea. After a wave of vertigo and nausea, the last thing you felt was the cold sand against your cheek and the gentle sound of the waves.
When your eyes opened, you found yourself staring at the face of a man. His skin seemed almost translucent, though your foggy mind couldn’t tell whether it was because of the gray weather or if his complexion was naturally so fair. Subtle freckles were scattered across his nose and cheeks, and his light brown eyes were studying your face. You wanted to move back, but you realized you were lying on the sand and felt still too weak to move.
"Don't move too much, you need rest," he said.
His voice was soft and deep. You noticed his wet, dark hair. He was handsome, even cute, and you suddenly realized he was shirtless. Blinking, you noticed his human torso and a fish’s tail of magnificent red scales—a merman.
You had heard countless grim tales about marine creatures and merfolk during your time in the village. The elders’ stories echoed in your mind: beautiful yet treacherous beings luring mortals to their deaths in the depths. And yet, this one seemed… different.
Your fingers brushed the hilt of your sword beside you, still numb but firm enough to grip the weapon. The blade trembled slightly against the creature’s throat. Your glassy, distant eyes couldn’t shake the images of lifeless bodies and the flames that had consumed your village.
“Stay back,” you murmured, your voice broken but resolute.
A shiver ran through you. Your grip tightened on the blade, your knuckles white. His calm gaze never wavered, his hands still raised in surrender. The tension in your arm faltered as exhaustion overwhelmed you. The sword fell to the sand with a dull thud. The man didn’t move. He raised his hands slowly, his expression a mix of surprise and sadness.
“Hey… easy. I just want to help.”
Another wave of fatigue washed over you, but something in his gentle voice kept you from slipping back into unconsciousness.
“When I… when I healed you, it was like… like touching a storm. Everything in you was just… fighting.”
He traced circles in the sand, as though searching for the right words. “I removed the poison—it’s something my people learn to do to protect ourselves from venomous predators in the sea. Closing the wound is... a little trickier, but I can manage.”
His voice was gentle, yet his tail flicked nervously. You knew that merfolk had various powers, some darker than others, which only made you wary. With a sigh, you looked at him again. Your lips slightly parted as you stared at him for a few moments.
“Th-Thank you. But why?”
He seemed to ponder your question, his chocolate-brown eyes wandering briefly before locking onto yours.
“I don’t know… I can’t explain it. You needed help.”
He hesitated for a moment, then added in a lower voice, “When I felt your energy, it was as if it was calling to mine. It’s strange, I know, but it feels like we’re connected somehow.”
A soft smile crossed his lips as you exhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself. You brought your hand to your forehead.
“Thank you… that’s kind.”
He let a silence settle between you, his eyes fixed on you with a curiosity almost childlike. Sitting on the sand, he folded his gleaming red tail beneath him. Finally, his voice broke the quiet, soft yet sincere.
“I’m not great at figuring these things out, but… you don’t have to bear that burden by yourself, you know.” He shrugged, his cheeks faintly pink with embarrassment. “Well, if you want help, that is.”
You sighed, trying to focus as the pain in your wound subsided. A wave of nausea overtook you, and your glassy eyes met his. Your stomach knotted, tears spilled down your cheeks, and an overwhelming anxiety gripped you. Briefly, you remembered the villagers, massacred by orcs that had left everything in flames in a bloodbath, while you had hidden yourself somewhere. Yet, you had resolved to fight your way out of that nightmare and warn the nearest village. You hadn’t expected to encounter a marine creature who saved you at the brink of death.
“Creatures… straight out of darkness…”
You whispered, your gaze lost and trembling. The merman had a worried look on his face as he mumbled.
“The darkness is spreading faster than I thought. It threatens all realms, human and marine alike.”
After a pause, the man placed a hand on your shoulder, his hair falling to partially obscure his reassuring gaze.
“I know it’s hard, harder than we ever imagined. But remember, everyone has moments when they think they can’t go on. It’s normal to feel that way. Right now, we’re in the middle of the storm, but we’ll find the sun.”
He observed you with cautious curiosity. He had noticed your gaze, heavy with memories, and the hesitation that weighed on every move you made. He didn’t dare come closer, but his instincts told him you needed more than just healing.
“What’s your name?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.
You slowly lifted your head, your features tight with exhaustion. “[Name].” Your voice was weak, but your gaze, though trembling, carried a fierce glimmer.
The man nodded, a shy smile crossing his lips. “[Name], then. That’s a nice name. Mine’s Ted.”
You didn’t reply. Your eyes wandered toward the horizon, where the sea met the grey sky. For a moment, you seemed far away, but your hands instinctively tightened around yourself, as if shielding against an invisible cold.
“The poison is gone, but… you’re still bleeding,” Ted said after a moment, his tone hesitant. “I can close that, if you want.”
You shot him an anxious and wary look.
“No dark magic, I promise!” he added, raising his hands with a spark of humor in his voice. “Just… something we learn in my home. It might sting a little, but it won’t harm you.”
You closed your eyes briefly, then slowly nodded. Ted approached cautiously, his movements measured to avoid alarming you. His fingers brushed your wound on your hip, and a strange yet soothing warmth spread through your body.
You swallowed. The words seemed heavy on your tongue, but you finally murmured, “My village… destroyed. The orcs are everywhere. They burn, they kill… and they’re looking for something.”
Ted lifted his head, his brow furrowed. “Something? Like what?”
You shook your head. “I don’t know. But they had a leader… unlike the others. Not a mindless brute. He spoke a language I’d never heard before. And he carried a stone… a black stone that glowed as if it were alive.”
Ted hesitated, the weight of your words pressing on him. “If what you’re saying is true… it’s not just your village in danger.” His voice dropped, and he looked out at the horizon, where the sea kissed the gray sky. “I’ve heard stories of stones like that... whispers passed among our elders. They’re not just dangerous—they’re alive.”
Your grip tightened around your arms. “Then I have to stop them,” you said, your voice firm despite the tremor that betrayed your fear. “There’s an artifact in the Black Forest… it’s our only chance.”
Ted’s tail flicked nervously, scattering sand. “The Black Forest,” he echoed, his tone uncertain. “I can turn human and follow you but that's deep inland. I’ve… I’ve never been that far."
You turned your gaze on him, before sighing. “Thanks for the healing but...Don't meddle with all that...”
He flinched, then shook his head, a quiet determination settling over him. “No. I’ll go.” His eyes softened, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to do this alone." He paused. “The sea is already changing,” Ted murmured, his gaze distant. “Strange currents, dead zones where life should thrive... If this stone is behind it, stopping it might save more than just your world.”
For a moment, silence stretched between you, broken only by the distant crash of waves. You stared at him, searching his face and felt like he wanted to say more but changed his mind.
“Alright, but if you try anything…” you began, your voice low.
Ted raised his hands, his grin lopsided but warm. “Sword to the throat. Got it.”
To your own surprise, your lips twitched in a faint, fleeting smile. Your fingers brushed the sand, trembling. You wanted to run, to turn back... but the memory of your burning village burned hotter. You clenched your fists and looked toward the forest, determination in your voice. “Then let’s go”.
#ted logan#reader insert#fanfic#keanuverse#keanu reeves#bill and ted#ted theodore logan#keanu reeves x reader#husband#ted logan x reader#my writing#one shot#dark fantasy#angst#i love him sm i keep thirsting over him HHHH#i took a long time for this one hahah kept delaying posting it
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headcannon of noah taking care of you when depression has taken you under?! i’m feeling rather crap recently and not seeming to dig myself out the depression pit so need some sweet boy noah!
Anon, I know this is a bit late, and I apologize. I hope you're feeling better than you were when you requested this, but if not, hang in there friend. You're loved here ❤️ Hope your request brings a smile to your face.
Taking Care of You

Tag list:
@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @nyxthedestroyerofworlds-deactiv @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @fadingangelwisp
@collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard
He noticed. Noah always noticed everything about you. The light had gone out of your eyes. The smile you normally wore didn't reach your lips. Your complexion, normally bright and shining, was dull and lifeless. It was happening again.
You laid in bed after calling out of work. The blinds were still drawn, making the room darker than it should be. Life was pointless today. You didn't feel like doing it. It was better beneath the blankets, safer and warmer. Nothing could hurt you here. Nothing could make you feel less of yourself than you already felt.
Call after call went unanswered. Noah was worried. Very worried. He got up earlier than normal, planning to leave the studio earlier today, but when you didn't answer plans changed. He had to leave now. Rushing home, thoughts filled Noah's worried mind over how bad it was this time, telling himself he would do whatever he needed to do to help you out of this.
He climbed the stairs silently, holding his breath. The door to your shared bedroom was still closed, just as he left it this morning. Dammit. Noah sighed, running his hand through his hair before opening the door. The room was dark. Rays of sunlight pressed themselves against the windows outside, begging to be let in, but the soul inside wasn't allowing it.
Noah climbed into bed next to you, facing you, watching as your eyes flickered behind their closed lids. You looked peaceful like this, but he knew better. He knew what was happening inside of that beautiful mind of yours. Noah ran his fingertips over the skin of your cheek, over your lips, and up into your hair. You roused, taking a deep breath and reaching for him. He gave you what you wanted; his arm. You wrapped yours around it, holding it close to your chest.
"Let me start you a bath. I can put some lavender oil in it." You nodded without opening your eyes. What felt like hours was only minutes when you felt Noah's arms beneath you, lifting you up and carrying you to the bathroom. Now, fully awake, he undressed you, and helped you into the tub. "Please, come in," you said woefully. "Of course," Noah grinned. With his back against the tub, you laid between his legs, back against his chest, running bubbles through your fingers.
The lack of enthusiasm from you was killing Noah. He wanted to see you smile again and hear you laugh and knew you would in time, but right now, there was no chance. He washed your hair, using his fingers to gently remove the tangles, and washed your body, helping you out once finished. The silence surrounding you both while he dried your hair was crushing, but Noah was hopeful it would return in a few days.
"You should eat," he told you, sitting at the bar in the kitchen after handing you a glass of water. You sat in silence covered in Noah's giant Anime band merch hoodie, picking at your thumbs and staring into nothing. Noah watched you helplessly, smiling at you whenever you would look at him, and each time his heart would break a little more.
"Have you talked to your doctor, maybe see about having your medicine changed?" Noah asked quietly as you laid on the couch with your head in his lap watching tv. "The medicine I'm on works. It's not meant to cure my depression, just help make the episodes less frequent." Noah let his head fall back into the couch. "This is the fourth episode this month, babe," he said gently. "No it's not," you said defensively, sitting up and searching Noah's eyes. "Yeah, it is," he replied softly, laying his hand on top of yours. Your face fell and tears welled up in your eyes. And then the dam burst and you wailed in sorrow, falling into Noah's arms where he held you until the tears stopped and you fell asleep on him.
Noah held your hand as you both sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office. He convinced you enough this time to call your doctor and talk about different medication. With his fingers laced tightly between yours, he sat and listened as you explained your symptoms and how you've been feeling. Hearing some of it wasn't easy to listen to. It crushed him honestly. But he was proud of you for taking the step to get more help and overcoming your fears. Lifting your hand, he placed a kiss on the top of it and for the first time in days, you smiled back at him and he saw the smile finally reach your lips, reassuring him you would be okay.
#noah sebastian#bad omens cult#bad omens band#bad omens#bad omens fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfiction
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I’m hanging out in the sloth ring, on the phone quietly with a friend or something, nobody is paying me much attention so I don’t mind having a bit of a scandalous conversation in public:
“- look I adore somnophilia, I really do, but in practicality it doesn’t work. I wake up far too easily,”
Conversation moves on to other kinks or related topics, me not paying to much attention to who just overheard me.
[I don't exactly know if you were aiming at anyone here, so I rolled the dice.]
Sloth is a quiet Ring.
The lights are dimmed, sounds are muted, movement comes in bursts then settles, even the sky in this part of Hell appears darker to keep its residents sedated. And, sure enough, even a human like you feels tired, for no apparent reason, in the grounds of the slothful.
Precisely because of how quiet and still everything is, foreigners assume that they're safe, that no one is giving them an ounce of scrutiny and there's hardly a need to watch themselves.
Any good prey knows that the absence of sound is trouble.
Closed eyes and softly rising chests don't mean anything. The streets are lively, you just can't tell.
Absorbed in conversation, you've been walking gradually slower, until you all but halted in the middle of the sidewalk. Sloth expects people to want to lay down just about anywhere, so you had a seat waiting for you.
Little did you know, you were right in front of a demoness' hair salon.
Lucidia takes her time to work, she'll admit it, but the benefit of such is that she can put her professional perfectionism in front of everything, the knowledge of her success helping her through the sludge that is cleaning up after a client. She'd been sweeping snipped hair off the floor when she noticed you out front.
You talk loudly. Foreigners always do. Shamelessly too. The woman subtly evaluates you from top to bottom.
It's impossible to tell, but Luci assumes you're here to visit someone, everything about you screams 'excited to be here'. You're decently dressed, and when you turn your head around a bit, she finds beautiful features on a human complexion. It's a shame that, having such natural beauty, you walk around with such lackluster hair.
The demoness blinks when the topic of your conversation becomes increasingly obscene. She's sure the neighboring businesses are hearing this too.
Somnophilia...? Someone's going to approach you sooner or later. You're dumb.
Did you come here for the experience? Because your surfacer bedfriends can't do it properly? You certainly sound frustrated about it. Lucidia murmurs to herself that this could be a trap, that you're intentionally baiting slothfolk to come onto you because you know they can keep you under, they can make your fantasy a reality.
But even then, you're so ignorant.
What makes you think they'd stop at touching you in your sleep? What makes you think they'd have any reason to let go of you when you're at your most vulnerable? You could never wake up again, if they wanted to feed off you for as long as possible. The number of horrid things that could happen to someone as airheaded as you if you were to fall into opportunistic hands is endless.
Your conversation seems to die out when another demon exits a store from across the street, staring at you knowingly.
Luci doesn't realize she's moving until she's nearly fogging the hair salon window, glowering wordlessly behind you, at the other stranger. Adrenaline irritates her, she likes to avoid it, but the woman definitely feels her heart hammer in her chest at the thought of someone coming over and trying to mess with you.
They seem to get the message, looking between you and her, then hurrying down the street.
Lucidia sighs almost gutturally, and decides you can't be outside for much longer.
The demoness may be tall, yet her footsteps are near soundless. She settles beside you casually on the sidewalk, getting to stare you over again for several moments until you take note of the shadow suddenly cast onto you.
" Hello... " She greets softly and quietly when you appear to startle. " Do you want to sit... Inside? "
While you hesitate to answer, Luci can almost see the sweat starting to form on your forehead.
" ... It'll get dark soon. Things'll... Pick up. "
You don't respond again, some lost 'hum's and 'ha's escaping.
" Your conversation... I heard it. " She doesn't bother to hide a small smile when you pale a couple shades. " So did the whole street... If I had to guess. "
" Oh God- " You murmur under your breath.
" ... Let me style your hair. " She daringly suggests, threading a long-fingered hand through locks of it. " I won't let anyone bother you... "
Anyone but herself, naturally.
If you just so happened to doze off while Lucidia carefully shapes your hair, then who is she not to give you just a little taste of what you so shamelessly crave?
There's no hiding the rumbles of satisfaction when you nod quickly and let her lead you into the hair salon, the chime of a little bell signaling Luci's victory.
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It has been 18 years since humanity was brought to the truth that monsters, creatures and deities they were all too sure were myths are in fact real well most of them anyway with these new realizations comes new mysteries, problems and hope
but dawn (MC 1) never paid too much attention to it but after the death of their father they have been sent reeling the perfect life they had crumbling slowly, forcing them into positions they never would have dreamed of. Their life colliding and slowly meshing into the unknown creature's deeper darker world.
Across the city in a dingy alley badly hurt dusk (MC 2) awakes to no memories other than their name and something they were told that stung like a dagger in their heart for some reason. As Dusk tries to make sense of what is happening, they somehow fall into a rabbit hole of crime, mysteries and dark truths all because they are trying to find out who they are and how they ended up in that alley.

~Customize your MCs looks, gender identity, clothing style and name
~ Choose your legal job! (Dawn starts the game with a certain job but that job doesn't stay long)
~ Make deals that will change the course of your life
~Customize your room and apartment aesthetic style
~As Dawn manage the relationship with your mother, your ex your, past relationship and current feelings about your dead dad. As Dusk unravels your past, try to figure out what happened to you or set it all aside and attempt to make a new life for yourself
~Romance 4 different characters for both MCs and hey if you want to romance a god as one or both MCs!

Dawns ROs
Xeno || Xe/Xem || 21 || Human
"Hellooo how is my favourite co-worker! I brought you your favourite drink, I'm amazing! I know~"
Description ~ Short coily dark brown hair, lean build with a Bronze complexion, dark green eyes, Nubian nose, Xyr height is 5’11, Xe has a full tattoo sleeve on Xes right arm and a tattoo on the side of Xyr neck when outside of work Xeno tends to wear ripped black jeans, no sleeve neck length shirt, runners and a bunch of rings, necklaces and one stud earring.
Selena || She/Her || ?? || Ghost
"Please! Don't be scared I mean you no harm le-let me explain"
Description ~ Shoulder-length ginger hair that is curled at the tips, She has a chubby build and pale skin, greyish blue eyes, a button nose, height if she could stand on the floor would be 5’3, freckles kiss her face and shoulders, she forever dressed in a light blue tea length swing dress and stockings with a pair of black flats, adorned in pearl earrings and necklace, to most she appears slightly translucent
Brier || He/Him or She/Her || Gender selectable|| 228 || Vampire
"Oh, sweetheart, are you okay? Please don't cry. How about a rose? Will that give you back your pretty little smile?"
Description ~ Chin length afro-textured dark brown hair, Slim build and ebony complexion, Dark red eyes, button nose, height 5’7, outside of work they typically wear wide cuff pants, cropped blouse with a sweetheart collar, 4-inch heels or black dress shoes, round glasses, realistic heart shaped earrings, ruby necklace, silver rings
Míng || They/He || 30 || Dragon
"Well, maybe if you watched or read the news more you would know how shitty it is for people who aren't human like you."
Description ~ bleached white shoulder-length hair, lean build light brown complexion, black sclera and piercing yellow iris, flat nose height being 5'7, scales litter their body colours mainly being yellow and orange with some red ones sprinkled in, typically wears graphic tees , with a worn-out black bomber jacket, cargo pants and platform boots
Both MCs
Is || she/her, he/him or they/them || Gender selectable || ??? || Minor God of death {and dreams}
"Is it truly a lie or is it just not the truth you want to hear? Darling, you have so much to learn"
Description~ Long straight black hair that reaches past their ass typically in some kind of intricate hairstyle with silver jewellery woven in, curvy build with a tanned complexion, pale white eyes, roman nose, height 8,5 when not forced to dress modestly they are always wearing a short dress with a marabou robe or a satin robe and six-inch heels, adorned in many silver bracelets, necklaces, rings and flower earrings and they have belly button piercing
Dusks ROs
Sire || He/Him || 26 || Kelpie
"you should watch where you are going around here, kid. Someone will end up killing you if you are not careful"
Description ~ Shoulder length wavy dark green hair so dark it almost appears black Sire's hair always seems to look wet/damp, he has a dad bod and Ivory complexion, black eyes, Greek nose, His height is on the slightly shorter side standing at 5’4, usually wearing black leather pants, dress shoes and a button-up shirt that never fully buttoned up
Loralie || They/Them || 24 || Siren
"you are so adorable. I could eat you up~ how about I buy you a drink gorgeous"
Description ~ Mid back length black goddess braids, Athletic Swimmer build and Dark brown complexion with dark blueish grey scales scattered about, piercing grey eyes, Flat nose, height 6’2, a large scar down the middle of their chest, gills most noticeable upon their neck, outside of work they typically wear cargo pants, muscle shirt, converse shoes, a gold locket, dangle earrings, spectrum piercing
Joshua || He/They || 20 || Werewolf
"Plan?? I never said I had a plan did I? ...oh well I didn't but don't worry I can get us out of this"
Description ~ Short messy dirty blonde hair, muscular build and tan complexion, amber eyes, Greek nose though it has obviously been broken in the past, scar along the right of their jaw, freckles speckled over his face, height 6’0, typically wears work boots, jeans and a muscle shirt with a flannel jacket
Z || She/He/They || ?? || Undead
"pay me back? How about you? Let me eat you and I'll take that as your repayment. I'm quite hungry and you're starting to irritate me"
Description ~ Messy straight chin length black hair with strands of grey hairs throughout, skinny build and pale olive and appears slightly greeny yellowish, black eyes, hawk nose, the height of 5'6 the left corner of her mouth is carved away, revealing most of their teeth and flesh and their left hands pinky and ring finger are just bone the surrounding area seems to have a hideous burn scar though he typically covers it up by wearing white gloves, black turtleneck, beige torn pants and two different pairs of dirty runners
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How do you climb up from rock bottom? What are you willing to do? To sacrifice. To find out the truth, what will you do when you get those truths? What if they aren't what you expected or wanted? Will you help others or push the world aside? how far is too far to achieve your goals?
Demo: TBA || My other IF || Character Portraits: coming soon
#when i wake if#writing#if#romance options#romantic interest#twine game#interactive fiction#interactive game#twine if#if mc#twine interactive fiction#twine wip#interactive novel#twine#if wip#wip#if game#demo#supernatural#supernatural characters#fantasy#mythical creatures#urban fantasy
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I'm a Princess
Chloe sipped her champagne as she looked around the Waynes' Gala. She spotted many people that were clients of her mother and some that promoted Gabriel. She noticed a few other designers, but the rest of the people…..well, they at least dressed the part. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a girl who she could have sworn was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl had darker skin and green eyes, but her face, her eye shape!
Chloe sauntered over and shoved the champagne flute in front of her face.
"Go on." she demanded, "Get me another drink."
The girl looked her up and down.
"You still wear Gabriel?" she questioned, "Ew."
Chloe gasped, "He is an amazing designer!"
"He's an asshole." the girl retorted.
"You better shut your mouth, you Twerp!" Chloe bristled.
"Or what?" the girl commented, "You're gonna tell my mommy about your horrible fashion choices?"
"How dare you!" the Bourgeois heiress cried.
"No. How dare you show up to the Wayne Gala in something that is four seasons old!" the girl claimed.
"I am a Princess and-" Chloe began.
"No." the girl interrupted, "You are the daughter of a hotel owner, who didn't even wear clothes designed by her mother. You decided to wear trash."
Chloe was fuming. She had never been spoken to this way and the face of the girl wasn't helping.
'Her face is irritating! She looks just like Baker Girl when she started pushing back!'
"I am a princess and-" Chloe spoke again.
"I'm a princess." the girl declared, "Technically, after Great-Grandfather and Grandma passed way, Daddy became King. I'm a princess; you're playing dress up."
Chloe scowled, "You little-"
"Princess Amaya Wayne, lovely to see you again." a voice called out.
"King Ali of Achu." Amaya curtsied, focusing her attention on him.
Chloe closed her mouth and focused on the interaction in front of her.
'The Waynes have royalty in their blood and this….brat is actually a princess?'
"I'm very sorry, Ms. Bourgeois, but I must get going. My family will be summoning me soon." Amaya smiled, "King Ali, why don't you accompany me? I'm sure Father would love to discuss the next fundraiser for the children's hospital."
"Of course." the king answered.
The hotel owner fumed as they walked away. She lost sight of them in the crowd; Ali had never forgiven her for that fish-smell fiasco when they were younger. Chloe had to see for herself if the girl who humilated her was actually a Wayne. She followed them from a distance and tried to blend in with other girls nearby. She was too focused on Amaya to notice the judged looks thrown her way, as she tried to incorporate herself into their circle talks.
Sure enough, King Ali walked Amaya up to Bruce Wayne and someone else. Chloe couldn't make out who the guy was, but she heard the King of Achu refer to him as Damian. Amaya hugged Bruce and call him 'Grandfather', before he was asked to answer some questions for the Daily Planet.
'She's actually a Wayne!'
Bruce excused himself and the hotel owner was able to get a clearer view of the guy. He looked exactly like Bruce, but his complexion was similar to the kings' and he had green eyes.
"Why don't we continue this conversation tomorrow, Your Highness?" Damian spoke, "There are some things I want to go over without prying eyes or ears."
The King nodded and walked off.
"Have you seen your mother, Amaya?" Damian questioned.
"I believe she is with Uncle and people watching, as usual." she smiled, "She does love to look at everyone's outfits."
Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. As Adrien walked out of the crown, Chloe scowled as she noticed his companion: Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloe dropped her glass as Marinette Dupain-Cheng walked over and kissed Damian Wayne.
"Mother." Amaya smiled, before hugging Marinette.
'Baker Girl; she married into the Wayne family! How did she manage to weasel her was into a family with royal blood?'
Chloe stomped and politely shoved her way through the crowd towards the stage. She couldn't believe that she saw that brat was hugging her Adrikins, after she disgraced the Gabriel name!
"You look lovely as always, Amaya." Adrien complimented, "You definetly get your beauty from your mother."
Amaya smiled, "Thank you, Uncle Adrien."
"Don't act high and mighty!" Chloe demanded, "You were just trash talking his father a few minutes ago!"
"Chloe." Marinette spoke.
"Baker Girl." the hotel owner sneered back.
Adrien and Damian were quick to push the girls behind them.
"So what?" Adrien asked, "Who cares if my niece talks shit about Gabriel?"
Chloe looked at him in shock, "But you-"
"Left his place and company when I was eighteen and I never looked back." Adrien declared, "I hated being a model and everything that came with it. The rules, the photoshoots, the diet, the loneliness, that stupid schedule pack dictating when I woke up, went to bed! I couldn't even hang out with my frineds!"
"But we're suppose to run an empire together!" Chloe shouted back.
"Is this some bullshit my father told you?" the former model questioned, "The last time I saw him was twelve years ago and the last time I spoke to him on the phone, was eight. I don't know what he told you, but I never wanted to own Gabriel. I can't draw to save my life; I never want to model again. I don't know what you would do, but it's certainly not draw."
"I can draw!" the hotel owner shouted.
Adrien smiled, "Really? Anytime there was a competition, you tried to steal Marinette's sketches and frame her. You have never put in any effort to practice drawing. I never even saw you take fashion classes. You just decided since your mommy was a fashion designer, you would be too. Audrey probably des more in a day, then you do in a week!"
Chloe could feel the promises she was fed start to crumble. Gabriel had told her that once Adrien was done with his vacation, they would run the company. Adrien was telling her that was never going to happen. She had been waiting for the da when she didn't need to watch over the hotle anymore. It was annoying having to serve others and make sure their needs were met. What about her needs? She wanted a trip to Cancun! She wanted to sail the Caribbean! She wanted to sleep past six am!
She snarled, "What about Baker Girl, huh? You seriously expect-"
Damian was quick to get in her face, "Call my wife that again and you'll be thrown out on the street."
"She is-" Chloe faltered
"My wife is a fashion designer." Damian stated proudly, "Number one in the country and number three internationally."
"Hah!" Chloe smiled, thinking she had caught them in a lie, "Zahr is-"
"My wife." Damian replied, wrapping his arm around Marinette's waist, "She makes all designs and has total control of her own design company. It's not even associated with Wayne Enterprise."
Amaya laughed "She's just sore that her gown is horrible."
"Amaya!" scolded Marinette.
"It's true." Amaya declared, "She tries to act big, but that spray painted gold just screams 'Look At Me; I Deserve Attention'!"
Adrien began to laugh since Chloe had been wearing the same color scheme since they were toddlers. Her attitude certainly hadn't changed. Damian just smirked at his daughter's decleration.
"And what is with that horrible blue eyeshadow?" the Wayne heiress continued, "No one wears eyeshadow that blue; it's outdated. It doesn't even match your dress or skin tone. If anything it makes you look a bloated fish. Why on Earth would you wear a nude lip shade of color? Even in the 50's, when they did use that shade, at least they had red lips."
Chloe's jaw dropped. Never had she imagined a child would tell her off for how she dressed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Marinette biting her lip and could see Adrien laughing himself to tears.
"Yep." Adrien cried, "Tha-That's definetly your kid, Damian."
Mari sighed, "Is Yami and Malik gonna be the same way?"
"You do love honesty, Habibiti." Damian pointed out.
His wife groaned, "I'm gonna get so many phone calls when the twins go to school."
Chloe scowled and began to stomp away. She couldn't believe that someone who was related to bakers talked to her like that. The trash that came out of that girl's mouth left her fuming!
"Good." Amaya called out, enough for Chloe to hear, "Grandma is leaving. My eyes were starting to hurt, just from looking at her. Thankfully, the galas are at night. If we had it during the day, we'd have a disco ball on the floor with all that metallic strips sewn in."
Chloe could hear the baker's daughter snort, before laughing along side her Adrien.
"Amaya, you know how much your grandfather cares about appearances at these." Damian stated, causing his daughter to sigh, "Grounded for a week."
"Yes, Baba." Amaya spoke, "I only did it to get back at her for being a bully to Maman, when she was my age."
Mari kissed her daughter's head, "As long as you're not like this at school."
"Never, Maman." their daughter answered.
"Come along, Amiriti (Princess)." Damian spoke, "Let's go find your grandfather."
Chloe looked back to see the baker's daughter on her husband's arm. Adrien and her bratty daughter were right behind them, talking and laughing. Chloe had never felt so humiliated before.
'Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!'
Nothing was like how it was before when they were all in Francois Dupont College. She was no longer the Mayor's Daughter. Her father had moved to NYC with her mother, after high school. She had taken over as the owner of the hotel. Chloe had tried to use the same control she had in school to dictate the hotel's conditions and staff, but it failed miserably. People started to leave bad reviews of the hotel; some of the staff quit. When her father had heard about it, he offered to come back for a few months to show her how to run it properly; she had hung up on him.
Chloe Bourgeois couldn't believe that promises she had overheard as a child were over. She was suppose to marry Adrien Agreste; he was her Adrikins!
'I never should have helped him runaway from home to get into school!'
Chloe knew that was the moment everything changed in their realtionship. Everyone had turned him against her! He started speaking up more, defending others from her, and calling her a bad friend. She had hoped that one he finished 'exploring' that his new habit would be broken and they would get married after university. She had never even looked at another guy so when she found out that he had quit modeling, she thought he was getting ready to take over the company and propose. The proposal never came and Adrien had left Paris, without a word.
'It was all Baker Girl's fault! She ruined my Adrikins! Her Adrikins never behaved like this 'til he met her!'
She continued to glare at Marinette. She hated how Marinette was now rich, even richer than her. Marinette always got what she never had; a loving home, parents who cared about her, and now a husband and family. Chloe refused to believe she was jealous.
'I deserve more! I deserve my happily ever after with My Prince!'
Chloe turned her gaze to Adrien and she felt her heart stop. Adrien was on his tip-toes, kissing some guy taller than him. To add insult to injury, he looked just like Marinette. He had dark hair and blue eyes. Adrien Agreste had always been her dream Prince Charming, but she wasn't his Princess. Apparently, Adrien Agreste was the princess.
Chloe walked away as she heard Amaya ask if Uncle Adrien and Uncle Jon were excited for their wedding next month.
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#chloe burgeois#chloe salt#chloe bashing#amaya wayne#gabriel agreste#prince ali of achu#king ali#bruce wayne#damian wayne#wayne family#marine#marinette dupain cheng#marinette x damian#damian x marinette#daminette#adrien agreste#platonic adrienette#jealous chloe#jon kent#jondrien#wayne gala#petty amaya#princess amaya#control issues#adrien deserves better#adrien quits#zahr#marinette fashion designer#empty promises#princess adrien
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Oracle!Reader Part 9
Masterlist - Part 1, Part 8, Part 10
Warning! This chapter has some gore and death! Remember my sagau has darker worldbuilding and it's an imposter au! Yanderes is a warning in itself.
Muffled thumping and talking bothered your slumber. Feeling groggy you opened your eyes slowly. A groan slips past your lips as your head pounds when you move to sit up. What happened last night?
Memories of the night before coming back to you in a trickle before it rushes your mind all at once. Your mask!
Urgently you feel your face and relax a little at it still being there. But what if Kazuha took it off and put it back on? You would be put in a cell, right? The bedding underneath you were still soft and warm in fact something even warmer was on your legs too...
Looking down you see a head of white and red hair resting on your leg. The sleeping face of Kazuha with bed hair was sitting on a chair letting his upper body rest on the bed.
As cute as he was, sleeping very content on your legs you needed answers to whether he removed your mask or not. Why he was sleeping here was secondary.
"Kazuha? Kazuha, wake up!" You shake his shoulders gently as you call his name. He wakes up almost immediately no doubt due to his sensitive hearing.
"Y/N? Why are you-? Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry." It doesn't take Kazuha long to realize the situation as he jumps away from the bed in a hurry. The slight red to his ears as he turns his head away from you is an easy indicator to his embarrassment.
"It's fine really. You carried me back to my room, right? Thank you for that." His reaction was technically positive while referring you by name meaning he didn't take it off. You should be fine... for now.
"It was no trouble Y/N, especially as you had done the same for me the first night. It's just a little worrying how tired I got once I laid you on the bed. I must have been exhausted from the battle since I didn't drink anything."
Kazuha's complexion starts to cool down as he speaks about the sudden sleepiness. It's quite convenient, a little too convenient. Teyvat probably had a hand in this. You were grateful for it either way.
Politely you dismiss Kazuha who is more than eager to escape the situation. Packing up the last of your stuff and freshening up, you leave the room and climb the stairs.
The cawing of birds become clear, and you look to see the bustling pier of Liyue Harbor. You recognize it as the farthest pier from the city entrance. Unlike the game where you only saw a few people and sellers, it was much busier now.
People of all colors and clothing walked around buying, selling, playing, and working. Liyue was said to be home to many people meeting, so it was nice to see an actual busy port.
Tightening your grip on the strap of the bag, you hope that the crowd will help you escape from meeting any acolytes. Zhongli, Ningguang, and Yelan were the top people to avoid. A smart, well connected Ningguang is far more dangerous than the isolated adeptus Ganyu or Xiao.
"Y/N! Y/N!" Turning around at the sound of your name, a hug from a very excited chef and panda nearly topples you. Smiling a little you hug her back.
"Woke up fine after passing out like that Xiangling?" She pulls away with a pout at your words. Guoba is still clinging to you, and you pet his head while smiling at Xiangling.
"I'll be able to handle more next time! I swear it." You nod along to her determination before asking her a question.
"Where's Xinyan? I know she had a performance today; did she leave already?"
"That's correct. Xinyan had to leave around the same time Beidou left for business. Furong relayed her message to me about it."
Kazuha strolls to where you're standing with Xiangling. He's carrying a small bag with him hinting that he might be staying in Liyue for a while.
"That's a shame, maybe I'll get to see her when I'm in Liyue Harbor. I'm guessing you both have your own ideas on what to do in Liyue."
Speaking casually, you begin walking off the boat onto the port, Kazuha and Xiangling follow behind you.
Xiangling speaks about fishing before going to Wanmin Restaurant where she can go back to helping her dad. Kazuha's calm voice mentions a trip to the Lisha area where he had yet to explore.
Keeping your tone light, you vaguely speak of traveling around and the possibility of visiting another nation. It's best to have a flexible track record to avoid being stuck in any minor lies.
The crowd around you seems to grow thicker. It pushes the three of you together into a clump in the crowd. The smell of fish, sweat, and salt is grossing you out.
Kazuha's featherlight grip on your wrist and Xiangling's warm hand on your shoulder are what helped you all stay together and escape the masses. You sigh in relief at the cool breeze sweeping away the hot sticky feeling.
Quickly you begin saying your goodbyes to them only to be surprised by their slight clinginess.
"Why are you leaving so fast? I can treat you to a meal at Wanmin Restaurant first." She keeps her hand on your shoulder as she inches closer. Trills come from below and you look to see Guoba clinging to your leg. When did he come over?
"I agree, we don't have to split so fast. If anything, you can explore the Lisha area with me." Kazuha changes his grip from your wrist to your hand with ease.
You would be more than happy to, but you really didn't want to attract more vision holders. They would inevitably ask about you since you awakened most of them. That would lead to more questions, more lies, and less freedom.
"I'm sorry but I do have things to take care of in the city first. I don't want to hold either of you back. Xiangling, the fish you want are only around this time of day and Kazuha, I won't have you waiting hours or even days for me." You speak with firm tone and escape their holds.
Xiangling and Guoba wear matching sad puppy looks while Kazuha seems calm. The slight tremble of his hands as he waves goodbye to you doesn't go unnoticed.
He really can't understand just why he's so attached to you. It's not like him to get this troubled by saying goodbye to people he's met during his travels. His hand shook resisting the urge to hold you again.
Perhaps some time away from you would be good. For you and him.
You turn the corner around Hanfeng's Ironmongers and release the breath you've been holding. Relaxing your shoulders, you resist the urge to groan as you walk along the stone floor.
This was certainly a new pattern that you've begun to notice in your acolytes but not unwelcome. Being clingy and attached to you will help blind them from any slip ups you might make. It was nice to feel loved by your comfort characters too...
The headache you've been sporting since you woke up pulses as if reminding you of its existence. Drinking on a boat was not your best decision but you wouldn't count it as your worst yet. That spot belonged to your moment of weakness with Gorou that gained Yae's attention.
Sighing you keep walking trying to remember the first stop you had planned.
"-thank you for supporting the Adventurers' Guild." Your ears perked at the end of the sentence and a person in the signature green outfit.
That's right, you wanted to finally join the Guild since you never got the chance to in Inazuma. With renewed vigor you walk further and climb up the stone steps.
As you begin climbing the wooden staircase (was it always this high?) you see a black hat and two long twin tails as you climb up. The body gestures and promotional voice are a clear indicator to who is gracing Lan, the Liyue Branch Master, with her presence.
"This new proposal is designed to make anyone, especially you agree to it. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is always up to date, so we increased the number of coffins you get with your first order to 150 wooden coffins due to departure of Rex Lapis."
You get to the top of the stairs letting you have front row seats to the amusing sale performance.
"I hope you remember the on-site cadaver collection service covering almost every region in Liyue. Because I'm proud to say that we now cover them all. The fee is still very affordable of course!"
Hu Tao smiles perfectly as Lan only gets more annoyed.
"Even when you had the traveler, I still rejected you."
"So, you do remember! That's perfect as now I won't have to drag her here to be a reference again. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor fully understands why you may be hesitant to agree due to the social ideals. Despite the fact that everyone and everything ends. But it truly is in your best interest to agree to my proposal."
Hu Tao seems to get a little more desperate as Lan presses her hands to her temple.
"I mean, she isn't wrong." Your honest thoughts are spoken aloud drawing the women's attention to you.
Unlike Hu Tao's cheery and overly persuasive voice, you take on a more relaxed tone.
"You want to keep your adventurers safe and making them agree to this would look bad is what you're thinking right? But don't you see how Hu Tao's proposal is making them safer? An adventurer agrees to this job knowing that their life is in danger, if they get scared at the thought of signing that waiver then they aren't cut out for adventuring. How would they survive when attacked? They won't, so this may help prevent needless deaths."
Hu Tao's eyes sparkle at your words as Lan seems dumbstruck. You don't blame her, a random person coming up and taking Hu Tao's side on her business practices is a rarity.
"Now if you agree, you could prevent a lot of heart ache for those who are connected to the adventurers too. Someone has to pick up the bodies, Hu Tao's on-site cadaver collection is the best option. If not them then you'll need to have a different adventurer pick them up, have the family pick them up or pay a bigger fee for the Parlor to do it. You wouldn't want someone who was friends, coworker or family to deal with that corpse if you don't have to, right?"
This was all stuff you've wanted to tell Lan when you saw this scene in Hu Tao's story quest. It felt good finally getting it off your chest. Hu Tao's idea was really more like insurance similar to those who worked dangerous jobs like construction.
"Someone that recognizes my genius! I thought I had a way with words until I heard you speak of possibilities I couldn't even fathom. Tell me what's your name?"
Hu Tao shakes your hand excitedly and before you can even open your mouth to respond she looks back to Lan.
"But before that, I would like to seal the deal with Miss Lan on the offer. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has a long and detailed history of honoring the client's requests on their death bed. So, agree to this now and reap all the benefits!"
"I said no, I'm not telling you again Hu Tao. Say what you will but I'm not changing my mind. And you, do you have any actual business with the Adventurers' Guild? If you do, speak to Katheryne if not then leave."
You chuckle at the way Lan stubbornly rejects Hu Tao with a scowl before piping up coyly.
"Well lucky for you Lan, I'm Y/N and I'm looking to be an adventurer." The smile you have seems to annoy Lan even further. She mutters something sounding very similar to "of course they are" and points at Kathryne.
"Miss Lan may be unwilling to partner up with me but the same can't be said the same for you Y/N. Those eyebags, slumped shoulders, and frizzy hair. All of that to point to you being chased by something intangible. Why don't you come over sometime and I can get you a 30% discount on a nice coffin as thanks for your help?"
Were you really that haggard looking or was Hu Tao exaggerating it to sell to you? The speed Hu Tao can switch targets from Lan to you is bit startling. Her elemental ghost creeps around her back to wrap around your waist pulling you closer to her.
"Much like you said earlier, an adventurer's life isn't easy! If you agree now, I can promise a special on-site cadaver collection that can extend as far as Monstadt and Sumeru. Buy now and save later, it's the families that regret not buying a coffin or spot for burial."
Well, you did vouch for Hu Tao's proposition earlier so it would be hypocritical to refuse now. But what if you're dragged back to Inazuma and die there? Or worse your identity is exposed leading to you not being allowed a funeral?
The furrow of your brows and finger on your chin as you mentally compare the pros and cons makes Hu Tao smile wider. Until an employee from the Funeral Parlor runs up the stairs calling her name.
"Director Hu Tao, we need your help with the same customer from last week. She keeps trying to change the plan last minute!"
Sighing in annoyance, Hu Tao releases you and steps backward letting you have your personal space back.
"It seems this must be all the time we have together Y/N." She keeps her hand over her heart as she speaks dramatically before wistfully continuing. "A meeting with someone like you is once in a lifetime, so here!"
A business card with the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor name, symbol and address is thrusted in front of you. The address changes to something readable as your fingers brush over the words and her cold rings as you take the card from her.
Do you even want to keep this paper? It's like a guaranteed ticket to meeting Zhongli who you've felt very conflicted about since you arrived here. He and Venti have had thousands of years to grow as worshippers while watching the cult grow. If anyone could pick up your lie, it would be them. Maybe burning the paper would be the best option.
You wave in slight befuddlement as the employee drags Hu Tao away in a hurry. Once she's out of sight, you turn back to the Adventurers' Guild front desk.
"So how do I start?"
After filling out the stacks of paperwork Katheryne handed you, you give it back and crack your wrist. It had asked all manners of questions from 'do you have any control over the elements?' to 'which of the three mushroom types is edible?'. Something tells you Lan made it purposefully harder.
Katheryne disappears into the building with Lan and after a few minutes she comes back out with a smile.
"Congratulations, you've been accepted into the Adventurers' Guild. I am unable to draw up an adventure rank for you but here is your adventurer handbook."
You take the familiar handbook from her and wince at the way her voice glitches when speaking about your adventure rank. Katheryne has always been a meta character so perhaps with your isekai'd statues the system is struggling. Or Teyvat is doing this to protect you as it's heavily implied Kathryne was created by Sandrone, the Fatui Harbinger.
"Due to your lack of adventure rank we will skip that area. Instead, we can give you the choice of wearing your regular clothes or the adventurers' uniform. It's made of material designed to stand against attacks, the weather, and long durations of time."
You smile and shake your head. That uniform would be a dead giveaway to your new job. Plus, it was kind of ugly, there was no way you would run around looking like Tingle from Zelda.
Wait why did they never offer the traveler the option to wear the uniform?
"Then let's get to the main aspect of adventuring, which is commissions. Between the choice of a single daily commission or four weekly commissions, you chose the latter. You are free to pick up your commissions tomorrow morning. Any questions or concerns?"
There was no option for four daily commissions on the paperwork. They must have given it due to the traveler proving their strength using the Dvalin stunt that happened right before the 'Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild' quest. Or because it's a game.
"Just one, will I have to fight abyss mages and hilichurls? Since I wrote that I could control some elements and fighting skills."
"Yes, you will have to face such monsters since you said yes to both questions. Of course, you won't be facing strong ones as all new adventurers start with easy monsters until their adventure rank rises. Unfortunately, since we can't assign you a rank, you will never be assigned commission focusing on stronger enemies."
What a relief! You already felt horrible at the thought of fighting against the cursed khaenri'ahs. Making the fight more difficult would just make it worse.
"Then ad astra abyssosque, Adventurer! With effort, you shall reach the stars and conquer the abyss!"
That signature phrase makes you smile at the robotic woman before leaving down the stairs. That had to be the simplest job interview you've every applied for!
Not to mention this is the only one you've ever successfully gotten hired for. Most deny you for not having a high school diploma and the rest for not having a GED. You would have gotten one if your old boss ever let you. But the way a gang keeps you trapped is by cutting off any other options. If you never get better, you can never leave.
You walk back down the stairs and stuff the handbook into your bag. What to do now? Visiting Hu Tao is not an option, and this was Liyue for crying out loud! You couldn't explore Inazuma in fear of being seen but the problem didn't exist in Liyue... for now at least.
Glancing at the teleport waypoint in the middle of the city, you make sure to keep a good distance from it. Accidentally activating it would be the worst thing especially with all the people around.
Pushing back any worries you begin exploring the Harbor while checking stores for anything useful. The red of the building frames were such an eye-catching design compared to the monochrome and neon buildings on Earth.
The lanterns and lights were off, but you could already imagine the sight of them illuminating the city. One thing you did note was how everyone walked on the stairs and avoided the smooth stone. Wasn't that one reserved for royalty or rather the Archons? Best that you avoid it too.
Unable to read the signs you took to spying the wares to see if the stores have what you need. Camping supplies like a tent, sleeping bag (the closest thing was a sleeping mat and a blanket), travel-sized hygiene tools, a lantern that holds a candle and a multi tool. Were the first things on your list.
You couldn't stay in hotels or get lucky enough like you did to stay with the Kamisatos so it's best to be prepared to sleep outside. Hotels and even motels are expensive so it's best to save money until you have a general income established.
Having a game bag was such a blessing. The shopkeepers looked surprised when you stuffed the whole tent into it but not to the point where it's absurd. The adepti inventions and the traveler seemed to have made all these things rare but not unheard of.
Another high priority was medical supplies. There was a chance that the Statue of the Seven could heal you but that could summon the respective Archon too. You didn't want to bleed to death while walking to one either. Unless you could teleport to them too...
With a good-sized medical kit, you go to the Wanmin restaurant and merely order from the outside. A good heaping of raw ingredients is added to your bag along with a cooking pot.
Second Life, the store nearby is perfect for some of the missing items like milk. The bag is timeless, so nothing ever rots or spoils. If you had something like this on Earth, you wouldn't have spent years going hungry.
You end up near Xigu Antiques and take out Beisht's scale from your bag. If you ever got low on money, then selling Beisht's scale could work. But using it as a bargaining chip or as a verification of being an oracle would be ideal.
"This scale is unlike I've ever seen. It's not only in perfect condition but it's overflowing with hydro energy. Inventors would pay around 5 million mora to power inventions using it. While jewelers like us would pay up to 2 million mora for it. Are you interested in selling it?"
You give a polite refusal before being extra careful in storing the scale. The last thing you want is its price tag going down. Only one thing left on the checklist of items you wanted to buy.
As you ran around looking for that particular shop, you slowed down near the toy seller. Granny Shan smiled at you with wrinkles crinkling as you admired the kites and toys on the bench.
"Hello young one, interested in any of the toys? The ready-made toys are all child sized but I'm open to commissions for specific toys as well."
There wasn't any point in buying anything. The money could be better spent on living expenses rather than kites or fireworks. With a well-mannered smile you're about to decline until you spot a toy design on a piece of paper.
The air in your lungs struggle to leave you as your hands gently pick up the paper to see it closer. A grey cat plushie design with black and white patches graces your eyes. Your lips are dry, and your throat feels tight.
"This design... Can I get the first finished product?"
"I would be happy to. This kind of toy must bring back some childhood memories, right?"
Granny Shan is oblivious to your inner turmoil as she writes down your name and takes the appropriate mora from you. "It'll be done in around two days. Feel free to pick up that day or the day after."
Thankfully it wasn't that expensive, and you leave the stall trying to regain your bearings. The reminder of your beloved Ashtray was sudden but bittersweet. You had a similar plushie in Earth that comforted you, maybe having one here would help you too.
After walking in a daze, you find yourself in front of a shop that was hidden away. It wasn't in the game but maybe that's because it would have been useless to note. Entering the shop, the sight of wind gliders sends you some excitement and nervousness.
Wind gliders of different designs and colors are hung around the shop as protective gear is stationed around on tables. The metallic of the middle structure of it are cold to the touch. A contradictory to the soft cotton hiding the bendable mechanics of the wings.
You're quickly attended to by an employee as they explain the functions and unique color schemes behind each glider. Some designs have monochrome colors to let the buyer color it themselves while others are bejeweled to hell and back.
The one you end up buying is a mild colored glider that suited your color scheme with gold and black mechanical parts. Hopefully you won't regret skipping on the protective gear, Teyvat would protect you from hurting yourself... right?
Who are you kidding? You didn't have a clue on how to use it. Gliding in the game and gliding in real life were two different things. Although they explained the basic of attaching it to the back of your clothes and how it'll automatically deploy at certain velocity. That didn't fix the fact that you don't have a license to use it or any actual knowledge.
There's a bookstore in Liyue right? You already needed to buy some books on camping and the in-depth flora so you can pick up a more detailed gliding instruction manual too.
Feeling a bit lost you climb the red staircases vaguely remembering that the bookstore should be above ground floor. What you end up coming across first is the Heyu Tea House where Yun Jin usually performs.
It's a lot bigger than it was shown in game. This one actually looks like it can hold her performance. A border is set around the stage as a paper is stuck to it. Getting closer you run your fingers over the words.
'Yun Jin performing in less than two hours! The final act to the opera: The Lonely Chameleon!'
Great, now you know exactly where not to be in two hours. You would undoubtably miss whatever story she would be telling as it's the last act. Why be there and potentially draw attention and embarrassment to yourself?
Continuing your journey, you end up being forced to walk past the Northland Back. Vlad, the daytime guard that you were cheering on to end up with Nadia, the night guard was a lot more intimidating in person.
You walk past quickly as the memories of meeting Childe, learning the truth of Zhongli and stealing the chest inside the bank enter your mind. It was years ago that you did that quest, but it felt nostalgic with you walking past it like this.
Confusion is clear on your face as you look across the staircase and see the bookstore much farther than you thought. Slapping your hand lightly on your face you audibly groan at the realization.
You climbed the wrong staircase.
After backtracking, getting a little more lost and finally climbing what you think is the right staircase you are greeted by the bookshelves. A sigh of relief leaves you as your fingers trail against the spines of the books to read the titles.
Most of these you already have in the game screen and can access anytime. An in-depth gliding book, natural Liyue flora book, and a camping book are all paid for with your mora pouch that is much lighter than when you first arrived at Liyue.
Unfortunately, you had to give up on finding a book on tracking and hunting. Seems someone had already bought the last copy.
Slowly you walk back to the area where the bridge connected to the Harbor. The sun was close to setting with the orange hue embracing the sky. Most people are already home with only a few children and the usual dogs hanging out on the bridge. Passing by the alchemy table and pond your tired thoughts begin to wander.
To think alchemy was a real thing in this world. In some ways Teyvat surpassed Earth's technology using it while they were also limited due to it. You could probably make a lot of money by inventing the most useful tools you saw on Earth. Like the creation of a bicycle or at least a tricycle was revolutionary during this era.
"I'm happy to walk ya back Yun Jin but I really can't stay."
"I understand Xinyan so thank you for escorting me back to the Heyu Tea House."
You freeze at the foot of the bridge as the faint figures of Xinyan and Yun Jin walk from the other side of the bridge. Yun Jin must have gone to watch Xinyan's performance but wasn't hers supposed to start in less than an hour?
A loud bang catches your attention as the sound of electro crystalizing is heard from the city on your left. Two geovishap hatchlings speed out of somewhere from the city as Keqing chases them. The hatchlings circle around Keqing as she continuesly dodges their attacks.
"Everyone be careful! Please keep a clear distance from this area for your own safety!"
Watching in surprise you stand at the foot of the bridge as the kids and dogs get closer to you. Seems Beidou wasn't kidding when she said that the monsters and Ley lines were acting strange. The game has had monsters get close to the cities but never inside it.
As Keqing continues to block and attack the hatchlings, Xinyan and Yun Jin get to the halfway point of the bridge. Heavy footsteps of multiple guards can be heard from the direction Keqing came from.
The geovishap hatchlings startle at the vibrations and curl back into balls moving in a fast pace toward the bridge. The same bridge that you were in front of!
Urgently you're about to move out the way when the children hold onto your clothes in fear. Combine that with the two dogs blocking your feet, moving out of the way was impossible.
Did you have enough time to get your sickle out of your bag? Was there anything else you can use?! The hatchlings speed up as Keqing notices your predicament and rushes over. You can already tell that even if she used her skill, she wouldn't make it in time.
Trembling the kids close their eyes and bury their heads into your clothing. The dogs bark and growl at the approaching hatchlings. Gritting your teeth, you close your eyes and hold your arms out in some form of defense.
The rough rocks of the hatchling scrape your hand and you swing your arm to the side from the pain. The hatchling makes a pitiful whimper as it's pushed back by the sickle appearing in your hands.
In surprise you examine the sickle in your hands. Did you really get the ability to sheathe and unsheathe your weapon without manually holding it? It's quite late seeing as you could have used this during Beisht's battle but better late than never.
Did the creatures really not recognize you as the creator?
Your blood from the scrape drips down your hand and hits the ground. You could tell that something changed within the geovishap hatchlings... The one that scratched your hand started to spin around in circles for seemingly no reason.
The second hatchling lunged at the first one with teeth and claws barred out. It pins the first one to the ground and brutally stabs it as it bites chunks of rock out of its skin.
Everyone around stops at the scene and watches it in horrific disbelief. The blood splatters all over the floor and the smell of copper invades your nose. The bloody barely moving corpse of the hatchling starts to weakly crawl to you.
The kids shriek and the dogs whine as the chipped bloody geo claw reaches toward you. Unlike how threatening it felt earlier, the sight of it trying so desperately to reach you had grief swelling up inside.
The second hatchling with bloody rocks and crimson flowing out of its jaw follows it as it's club like tail raises. The tail is slammed down onto the it's victim with no remorse repeatedly. As the rocky exterior is beaten away blood flies off the body.
Your body takes the brunt of the splashing blood as you cannot stop staring at the corpse. By the time the tail is lifted off the body, all that's left is a bloody pulp of rock, scales and flesh.
Everything is silent for a moment as the sole Geo hatchling looks up at you. It seems happy? Maybe even proud of what it did. It rips off the gold horn from the corpse and places it at your feet.
You stare down at the item as you shakily pick it up. It's still warm. Whether from the blood or the newly deceased creature, you aren't sure.
The background seems to blur as you stare at it. The children running to their parents, Keqing yelling out orders, Yun Jin and Xinyan trying to get past without attracting the attention of the hatchling. All of it fades away.
What caused this situation to happen? They didn't recognize you until your blood dribbled out. Teyvat was calling strong creatures to protect you so maybe the weaker ones hadn't got the message yet? Should you be mad at the hatchling that stands at your feet looking at you with adoration?
If a person did this, you would be appalled. But nature was never kind and Teyvat had its own laws. Even if you did kill the geo hatchling for murdering its brethren, it wouldn't stop anything. They aren't like humans who can understand your words and worries. Besides the hatchling didn't do it in your name like the acolytes' sacrificial events, it did it to protect you...
You snap back into attention as Keqing teleports using her skill above the hatchling. It curls up and rolls around you to escape using the bridge. The faint trail of blood in its wake is only mildly off-putting compared to earlier.
In its hurry it slams into Yun Jin's chest. Her clothing is smeared with blood, and it rips from the rocky scales. She stumbles back with a pained cry as Xinyan growls and summons her weapon.
"Get away from her!" Xinyan barely misses the hatchling as it digs under the ground and reappears behind them. Xinyan is about to give chase, but you grab her arm in a haste.
"Just leave it be, there's more important things to worry about! Yun Jin's show is starting in less than an hour."
Yun Jin stands up from the ground and the damage had already been done. Her hair was a mess, her makeup was smudged, and her clothes were torn with a blood smear.
"Oh no, oh dear. I was supposed to perform in these clothes, I had no costume prepared. If I go back now, they'll be so caught up in fixing me that the show will be ruined."
Yun Jin's despair quickly captures Xinyan's attention, and you glance at the geovishap hatchling that flees the area. Some of the Millelith guards are about to give chase but Keqing stops them.
"I think we still have a chance to fix things." Your voice has a glimmer of hope as you take in Yun Jin's appearance. "I don't know how to do your hair, but I have experience in makeup and clothing. If we all work together, we could get it fixed up in time."
"Is that really a possibility?"
"Don't give up hope Yun Jin! Y/N is right, if we go somewhere and fix it up, you might make it! You know I can help with all that stuff too."
Yun Jin smiles feeling a bit better with Xinyan and your reassurance. Before you can start looking around for somewhere to work on it Keqing walks up to your group.
"Hello, I wanted to come over to amend the situation that I could have prevented if not for my own lack of skills. Situations like these may not be under the Yuheng's responsibility but as a member of the Liyue Qixing who was here, I should have been able to stop the geovishap hatchlings.
As much as I would like to properly introduce myself, it's best that I cut to the chase. Yun Jin, you are performing soon, and your friends want to help you fix it correct? I'll pay a room for you in the Yanshang Teahouse and have someone bring over any material you might need."
This was a real lucky break, but Keqing keeps glancing at you, as if she knows or wants something. Everyone saw how the hatchling presented the horn to you, hopefully she's not suspecting you to be behind the Geo hatchlings attack.
Xinyan and Yun Jin are quick to agree as you all hurry to the teahouse. The hostess that you remember being really bitchy before Yelan took over was pleasant at the sight of the very popular vision holders. You ignore the side-eye she gives you as you all pile into a room.
Xinyan is creating a list of necassary materials to remedy Yun Jin's situation with Keqing as you clear the table of all the decorations. The whole next 10 minutes is a blur. The only thing you focus on is cleaning the blood from her outfit and repairing the holes as Yun Jin sits in front of a mirror in some spare clothes. Xinyan is focused on redoing the hairstyle.
Keqing only stopped to drop off the supplies before leaving for work. She didn't ask you anything but the way she stared at you whenever she thought you weren't looking says otherwise. Knowing your luck, Ningguang will have heard of this too. And being in the teahouse that Yelan owns? Yeah, you're screwed.
Deciding to push it to the back of your mind, you focus on the dress in your hands that's almost done being repaired. You were no professional sewer, you just had so much practice in sewing your clothes that this came easily to you. Same with your make-up skills, your job on Earth required you to constantly change faces. So, your make-up skills were more in the contouring section. Always used to obscure your features rather than enhance them.
The dress looks brand-new as you examine it closely for any signs of imperfection. Satisfied at your job you stand up and go over to the duo. They've been chatting about how the Heyu Tea House owner would react to Yun Jin arriving so close to the beginning of the opera.
"Sorry to interrupt but I finished fixing your dress. Do you want me to help you with your make-up or are you all good?"
Yun Jin jumps at your appearance and nearly drops the brush she was using.
"Thank you so much!... Y/N? I'm so sorry I never even got to properly introduce myself to you and you were still kind enough to help me. Is there any way I can repay you for all you've done for me?"
You smile gently at the formal woman as she stresses out over her lack of manners. What a perfect opportunity served on a silver platter.
"Please don't worry about that. You're a friend of Xinyan's right? I came on the Alcor with Xinyan, and I was more than happy to help. The situation earlier left everyone quite frazzled. I really don't need anything as repayment. I just hope you can make it to your show in time."
Yun Jin only looks more regretful at your generous wish. Xinyan finishes her hair and scoots back as she grabs the hat. She takes the sewing needle you were using earlier and begins to repair the hanging tassels.
"Don't feel bad Yun Jin, Y/N is a good person! I never got to tell you in detail how the trip with the Crux went this time but after your show I can tell you all about it. Ya know that oracle I mentioned before? Y/N is that oracle!"
Careful not to mess up her hair, you begin applying the red eyeshadow as Yun Jin puts on the light red tinted lipstick. "Is that really true? I'm not doubting you, it's just incredible to hear."
"Yes, to put it simply I tend to resemble the creator due to the powers I'm granted. One of the major ones is how I can connect with the creatures of this world." Your downcast eyes make Yun Jin send you a worried look.
"Is something wrong Y/N?"
"It's just that I think the geovishap hatchling may have sensed the creator's presence on me and instead of attacking me like they do to the awakened acolytes, it reacted weirdly. I think the Yuheng may be under the belief that I did something to make them react like that."
You finish applying it and lean away from Yun Jin. The girls share a look with each other and begin reassuring you that there's no way you would get in trouble. It's when you hear a particular sentence from Yun Jin that your pursed lips curl into a grateful smile.
"I have a performance that requires me to speak with Keqing tomorrow, I can explain your oracle status and clear up any misunderstandings that may have arisen."
"I would be so thankful for that Yun Jin! You would really be my hero."
Calling her a hero makes her pale cheeks heat up a little as she stands up.
"Think nothing of it Y/N. Now I believe everything is repaired and ready. I'll change and meet you outside as soon as I possibly can."
Smiling happily, you wave with Xinyan and leave to the entrance of the Teahouse. Xinyan pats you on the back with an ecstatic smile.
"We might be able to arrive on time, we really couldn't have done it without you Y/N. If you have time, would ya like to watch her show with me? The final act usually has a quick recap and the story in this one is pretty simple."
Xinyan looks at you with expectant eyes as you remember her telling Yun Jin that she wouldn't be able to attend. What made her change her mind?
"That sounds like fun! I've never seen an opera before, would I need to buy tickets?"
"Don't worry about that! Yun Jin always has private tickets for anyone she wants to personally invite. I don't usually go since I've never been too fond of opera, but I want to support Yun Jin. It would be a lot more fun with you."
Yun Jin comes out at that exact moment looking nearly identical to her pre-attacked appearance. Xinyan keeps her fingers to her lips signaling to keep your agreement a secret. You nod back to her; it was nice seeing them get along so well.
Getting there at the last second, the troupe calls her over in a hurry. Yun Jin can only briefly wave goodbye before disappearing behind the topaz curtain.
The Heyu Tea House was packed to say the least. Fighting through the people, you and Xinyan managed to find a seat close enough that Yun Jin would notice you both immediately.
Eyes stare at your table or rather at Xinyan. You had only gotten this seat because they moved away in fear without either of you doing anything. Not that you were complaining, if they wanted to be chicken then that's on them.
If only they stopped glaring at Xinyan for simply existing. Now doesn't that bring up memories of your own childhood. No one really liked being saddled with the orphan kid.
Xinyan doesn't even react and only smiles when the curtain pulls away to reveal a few backup dancers and Yun Jin posing. Her voice rings out in Chinese as they start dancing and performing in harmony.
You don't miss how her eyes light up at the sight of you and Xinyan watching from the table. A separate narrator begins to recap the previous acts.
"A chameleon with no one and nothing left. What a pitiful existence. Yet it strives for some meaning or person to live for, it works tirelessly each day. Changing its colors, it's position and its soul for that singular purpose. Taken advantage by each animal requesting a color. At long last it's used every color and been rejected by each one. So now it's left to wonder; what color was its true color?"
Each animal that had taken advantage of the chameleon appears in costume around Yun Jin. The lanterns dim as the moon starts to rise setting a perfect backdrop.
The singing slows down as Yun Jin speaks mournfully.
"Not a single color keeps them with me. No matter how hard I try to blend in, to be accepted it is but a lost cause. Should I find my original color and live all alone? Or should I give one last ditch effort?"
Colored lights and decorations spin around Yun Jin at her last line. When it's pulled away her hat had changed to a multicolored fan of hairpins. A long robe covered her dress with flags in each color stood proud fanning out from behind her.
Her singing is high-pitched and melancholic. All the other animal performers crowd around her as she sings. After each verse she belts out and poses, they briefly stop and bow to her.
You couldn't understand what was being said but judging by their actions, it seemed the animals finally accepted the chameleon due to the rainbow of colors.
A last long note as the animals pose in various positions around her until only the moon shines down on Yun Jin. She looks up at the moon as she starts her speech with an empty voice that rises with emotion.
"I am loved, adored, and nearly worshipped so why am I as lonely as before? If the only difference between the me before and the me now is the color, I display then is my color the only reason they love me? Is this the life I want? Is this the love I desire!?"
The drums beat and the music rings louder. The animal performers move away in a fast pace as Yun Jin tears off each flag. The animals scramble to pick each colored flag and hold it out to Yun Jin but she ignores them. Instead, she grabs the hairpin on her head and tears it off.
The animals run around her in a dance as longer flags that cover the sight of her fly around. When she's revealed she's back in her normal clothes and a single dagger lies in her grasp.
"If that is the only way I will ever be loved then this life of mine is as useless as my colors."
With a single motion the dagger is 'stabbed' into her heart, and she falls backwards with the animal performers catching her. They gently set her 'dead' body on the ground and mourn her. The curtains close and the audience erupts into cheers.
You clap and smile as the curtains open and the performers bow with Yun Jin in the front. For reasons unknown to you, the play had shaken your heart like an earthquake to a fragile little house.
Xinyan excitedly congratulates Yun Jin as you compliment her as well. Cotten in your ears make what they're saying muffled. Smiling you say your goodbyes and leave them. The ghost of Xinyan's hand reaching for your shoulder is ignored.
Instead you focus on what matters, your identity and living situation. Yun Jin already agreed to clear up the situation with Keqing, the horn given to you was safely in your bag, your job with the Guild was confirmed, and you avoided any high-profile acolytes that you're wary of.
Hopefully Yelan will never investigate you seeing as you stayed at the Yansheng Teahouse.
Out of curiosity you check the price of a week at a small motel. You promptly leave after they tell you it would cost 210,000 mora for a single week. If you paid that, you'd be fresh out of money by the end of the month. Things were expensive since it's Liyue but that was just too much.
You make your way to the bridge where the whole geovishap hatchling murder happened. Sleeping in the tent you bought is the much smarter and better financial decision... Even if it was the more dangerous one.
Not a single soul is around as you cross the bridge. The grass crunches under your shoes as the uneven stone makes your footsteps ring out in the night air. It turns into a dirt path and the city lights fade from how far you've gone.
Lighting the candle in your lantern you hold it out in front of you as you continue walking. The path splits and you stay on the right side due to the faint lanterns that are hung around that direction.
Cobblestone patio on the left and two huge identical stone statues on the right can be seen as you stand in the middle. The spot of dirt you choose to camp out on the patio gives you a perfect view of the statues. The mist flower and what you think is an adepti machine goes ignored.
It's been a quite a few years since you've ever had to put up a tent. But the survival skills come back to you quickly. With the tent set up and a small campfire going, you set a pot over it.
Swiftly you open the game screen and find the needed recipes for any simple food to make. The matsutake potatoes and meat are put into the pot and you turn your head to grab a plate. You aren't surprised to see it already done when you turn back.
You gobble down most of the matsutake meat rolls and stop when the bushes on your left begin to shake. Freezing mid-bite, you stare at the bush intently. When something begins to tumble out of it you jump to your feet and summon your sickle.
An unfortunately familiar bronze creature unravels itself from its ball and stares at you innocently. That damn geovishap hatchling has appeared again.
Sighing you flop back onto the ground with no fear. It may not have crimson liquid staining its body, but the smell of copper was still strong. There was no way it's not the hatchling you met in the city.
It creeps closer to you with every passing second. You can see the marks from Keqing's sword and electro cover its bedrock body. Taking pity on the poor hatchling, it's still a baby after all, you pat the spot beside you.
With a happy growl it sits next to you, and you give it the last of the meat rolls. Happy noises escape it as it carefully takes the food from your hands and eats it. That seems to have completely softened the reptile as it snuggles into your side.
Despite what it did earlier, your heart melts like wax under the sun, and you pet its head. You scold it in a faint voice.
"You shouldn't go into the city, it's dangerous. Now that your friend is gone, it'll be easier for you to get hurt. Stay close with your family so that you don't get hurt."
It's eyes close and it whimpers. It may not understand your words, but the main message seemed to have resonated with it. Your hand brushes against one of its injuries and it flinches.
Should you use some of the ointment from your medical kit to help it? With purpose you drag your finger lightly over its cuts and scraped areas. The wounds begin to glow gold and you close your eyes from the brightness.
Once it dims you open them to see the injuries healed.
Being the creator is one thing, but being the equivalent of a Statue of the Seven to the creatures is another. You're basically capable of healing everything but yourself!
The brief annoyance fades into fondness as the hatchlings springs up and rolls around in happiness. A sudden wave of exhaustion hits you making you groan and struggle to stand up.
You put out the fire and crawl into the tent, the bed is welcomed after such an exhausting day. The rough ground beneath the thin bedding and cold air nipping your skin brings back memories of the years you spent sleeping in alleyways and parks.
Maybe comparing yourself to a Statue of a Seven was more accurate than you thought. As the creator you shouldn't be this exhausted after healing minor wounds. So, it would make sense that you would need to practice or gain more power through touching the Statues of the Seven in order to heal more without getting exhausted.
Your train of thoughts slow down as sleep overtakes you. The faint thudding of the hatchling outside makes you feel somewhat safe. Is this life something you'll truly get used to? Or will you end up giving up like the chameleon?
And it's done! Now that Y/N has some freedom, I can start implemeting certain game ascepts. And if I don't enter specific ones then I probably forgot so feel free to comment any that you would want to see! This chapter was supposed to be just a nice day of touring Liyue and the geovishap hatchling was supposed to be annoying/cute and progress the plot. But damn did it get darker. I do want to say that Kazuha's last line wasn't him removing himself from his obsession. Kazuha is a very self-reflective character and all that he's gone through has added to that. I originally was going to have the opera nameless and just a quick description less show, but I had fun writing one that would fit with the plot. Welp time to finish 100% the Summer event! Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling
#genshin impact#whisp's amateur work#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#genshin sagau#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#yandere sagau#genshin impact sagau#sagau#oracle au#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere kazuha#yandere hu tao#yandere yun jin#yandere xinyan#yandere xiangling#i should put a keqing tag since she was only here briefly#i'll put her when she makes a proper apperence#sagau cult au#self aware genshin#sagau x reader#sagau impostor au#geshin impact
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