#i suddenly remembered this and i was struck by inspiration

[saikkunen]

😘

[mwagneto]

kérlek, mi az a csodás muzsika a videó alatt 🥺 (anyám is reblogolta a videót btw lol)

you're tumblr mutuals with your MOTHER??? babe wake up new type of guy just dropped

song name is мой мармеладный (Я не права) / moj marmeladnyj (ya ne prava)

theres an original but i used the tiktok version for the edit because despite never having been on tiktok someone sent me a fancam with it like, well over a year ago and that version of the song came back to haunt me on monday and wouldn't leave til i made a fancam of two gay politicians with it

[aceforwhatevenisthis]

OC-Tober 2023 Day 9: Future

Artur's hands were bleeding from tightly gripping the sword; trying in vain to stop the blade from puncturing his heart. It was no use.

Jackson glared at him with such hatred, such vindication, that Artur had never seen in the young man. So much so, that Jackson's blue eyes were a vibrant purple. Some sort of magic was at play here. It seemed as though all Artur's actions, all his sins, had come back to spite him until the very end.

Artur gasped; no words came out. Jackson tightened his grip and dug the sword in. Was he sorry for all that he'd done? All his time and effort dedicated to perpetuating a fabricated war? Just so that he could, what? Prove himself supreme? Supreme to whom?

It didn't matter. The light in his gray eyes faded out anyways.

[sugume]

YOUR BIGGEST FAN — GETO SUGURU

✧･. on vacation with your family, you discover that your biggest fan may not be a mystery after fall.

( TW ) f!reader. camgirl!reader. stepbrother!Geto (in a plot device way, no nii-chan and stuff.) unprotected sex. cream pie. phone sex. squirting. fingering. mutual masturbation. cunnilingus. deception. mentions of bullying. misunderstandings. hurt/comfort. explicit content.  

word count - > 6.6k

authors note. can you see I wasn’t creative with the username? I have a love-hate relationship with this fic because I feel like it goes from 0 to 100 real quick lmfao. This is heavily inspired by the book Eyes on Me! 

“I bet you look handsome.” You smile at the black screen with the default profile picture floating in the middle. 

‘Nah.’ User @Sssman72  types into the chat the takes up the left half of your computer. 

“Stop! Don’t say think bad things about yourself,” You laugh, making sure your tits jiggle in the flimsy red lingerie you're wearing. “I know your handsome baby.” You reassure your favorite client. The man who alone gives you 50% of your income. He’s the one who bought you this pretty lingerie set you're wearing.  

‘You look tired babydoll...how was today?’ He types. 

“I’m fine, I promise, just had a long day, was on a few other private chats with some other customers the entire day.” You confess. In all honesty after this call you were planning to pass out and try to get a few hours of sleep before you had to fly out to your family's vacation home. Today on your live stream, you told your followers you were going on vacation for the next two weeks and wouldn't be online. You didn't plan to get on a call with @Sssman72 but he had texted you as you were getting ready to go to bed that he had a bad day and wanted to see you. Before you had a chance to protest, he spent you 500 and said it would only be 30 minutes. You gave in because first he was your biggest supporter and you wanted to be there for him in some way with all the money and gifts, he sends you and second, you didn’t mind chatting with him, you thought he was the sweetest and you struck lucky the day he joined one of your lives.  

‘I’ll let you go then, I want you to get some rest before your flight, sorry for keeping you up beautiful just needed to vent about my ass job.’ 

“I’m always here for you handsome, I'll make sure to send you those pictures you requested through the week.” 

‘Make sure you enjoy your break babydoll, don’t gotta worry about me. Goodnight.’ 

You say your goodbyes and end up falling asleep in the lingerie bought you as soon as you shut your laptop. 

— 

“How’s college y/n?” Your stepfather asks when you slide into the back seat of the car. Your mother fitting the last of your luggage into the trunk.  

“it’s fine, some of my classes are difficult but nothing I can't manage.” You answer as you buckle in. 

“Oh yeah? Thats good. You mom tells me you started a job a few months ago, how's that working out for you?”  

You tense under the small blanket you’ve thrown over yourself. 

“u-uhm yeah its good—yeah it’s been fun.” 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I don't remember what you mother told me you did again.” He chuckles. 

“Uhm—I'm a bartender, m-my friend works there and got me a position.” You tell him the lie you've rehearsed hundreds of times. You start to sweat under the blanket. Did he buy it? What if he and your mom found out what you did? Are they planning to ambush you when you get to the house? They're going to make you drop out and chain you up in the basement when they find out. You throw the blanket off, suddenly too hot and alert. Guess that nap you were planning on taking during the drive wasn’t happening. 

“Oh, that’s fun sweetheart, I remember I bartended awhile when I was in college, got fired for stealing the alcohol though,” He laughs at the memory before turning to look at you. “You wouldn’t do that though, you’re a good girl.” 

You nod, thankful that your mom decided now to take your stepdad's attention away and get in the car. 

“Alrighty were good to!” She cheers. Your stepdad turns back around in his seat before starting the car. 

“Finally, thought we were going to get a fine parked here another minute.” 

“Oh, shut up! Y/n are you excited to go back to the vacation house? You haven’t been in years!” You mom asks as you guys pull out of the airport.  

“Yeah, I can’t wait to, I missed the hiking trails and the waterfalls. None of that in the big city.” You answer truthfully. You did miss the silence of the secluded house you vacationed at every summer since your mom married your stepdad. It was the company that you hated. As if your mom heard your thought, she says something that makes your heart drop. 

“Suguru feels the same way, we didn't even have to blackmail him to come! That boy...” 

“Suguru is coming?” You scream.  

“Coming? Sweetie, he’s already arrived this morning. I’m so excited were all together as a family again.” 

“Are you fucking serious mom? Turn the car around and bring me back to the airport!” You screech. You were not going to spend the next week with your bully of a stepbrother.  

“Y/n!” You mom gasps. 

“Sweetheart, he’s changed.” Your stepdad tells you as if that's going to make it better. 

“That’s what he wants you to think! He’s the worst human being on planet earth, please don’t make me spend the next few weeks with him, please mom,” you lean over the consul. “Please dad.” You pout at your stepfather. You know he gets weak whenever you call him dad. 

“Sweetheart...” 

“No! You aren’t sweet talking your way out of this, he’s changed. He isn't the same teenager with a chip on his shoulder, he’s matured. He even told me the reason he’s coming is to apologize and bond with you y/n.” 

“He’s lying mom! He doesn't care about me; I wouldn't be surprised if he told you that just so he could drown me in the lake. You guys own the land so nobody would find my body!” You start to tear up. You were going to jump out of the car if your parents didn't turn back around. Your stepbrother was your biggest tormentor since the day you met him. From picking on you at home to getting the girls to bully you at school. He made your life hell for four years. The day you left for college you screamed how much you hated him and told your parents that the four of you would only be in the same room again when you lay in a casket. 

“Oh, don’t cry sweetheart. Your mother is right, he’s changed, I wouldn’t have allowed him around you if he hadn’t. Give us a week and if you want to leave, I promise I'll drive you back to the airport and you’ll never have to see him again, please?” 

“No.” You cross your arms and look out the window despite knowing that they’ve won. You can’t jump out of the car now that you are on the highway, and you didn’t bring your own car to drive yourself back to the airport. 

“We’ll give you the master suite, the whole attic floor to yourself.” They bargain. You act like you’re thinking of accepting the offer. With the master suite taking up the entire third floor you could lock yourself up there and ignore Suguru. You could also film videos and even go live because the room is soundproof. You perk up at that. You could just spend your vacation on stream and chatting with @Sssman72. He’s somehow always free for you and told you that if you get bored you could call him. He’ll make up for your stepbrother’s awful behavior. 

“Fine, I’ll take the master suite.” 

— 

“Okay that's the last of your luggage, we’ll be having dinner in a few hours on the dock.” 

“Kay, thanks.”  You watch your stepdad shut the door. Once he does you release the tension in your shoulders. You lock the door before running to throw yourself onto the huge king bed. You sink down. You didn’t see Suguru when you arrived, you mom told you he was probably in town. You hope he stayed in town for the next two weeks.  

After laying it bed thinking about how much you hate Suguru with a passion you pull out your phone and open the porn app. You click on messages and open your chat with @Sssman72. 

‘Hey...I know I told you I was on vacation but I already wanna go home. You don't have to answer lol.’ You send. He immediately starts typing.  

‘Of course, I'll answer you babydoll. What’s wrong?’  Your face heats at the pet names. You wish you knew what he looked like, all he told you about himself was that he was in his twenties and worked for his father's company. You want to know more, what he looks like, what he sounds like. If the messages he sends make you sweat, you wonder what’ll happen if he spoke to them to you. In your head he’s a handsome bachelor who just so happened to find you and deem you worthy of his time and money but hell, he could be lying. He could be some old rich man in his eighties who likes young girls like all the rest of your viewers. The romantic part of you ignores that and is convinced he is who he says he is and that one day you’re going to meet in person and fall in and have a bunch of his babies. 

‘You know that stepbrother I told you about?’ 

“Mm, that asshole who bullied you?’ 

‘Yep, that asshole. Anyways I bet you won't guess who's here on vacation with me?’ 

‘Are you serious?’ 

‘Dead serious...my parents didn’t tell me until I was already trapped and now, I have to spend my vacation away with a man who hates me for no reason.’ 

‘Wow that’s crazy lol. Did your parents tell you why he chose to vacation with you if he doesn’t like you?’ 

‘Apparently he’s here to make amends...he’s probably here to kill me so he gets all the inheritance.’ 

‘Well, what if he’s really there to make amends baby?’ 

‘You should've heard the groan I just let out. I can’t believe you’re on his side babe. When I tell you that he too evil for that I mean it.’ 

‘Hey, you know I'm always on your side babydoll, I'm just giving you a man’s perspective on it. Maybe he realized he’s fucked up and he feels back so he wants to apologize for all the wrong he caused you’ 

‘Yea well from a women's perspective he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about anyone else but himself!’ 

‘Don’t say the baby...hypothetically what would he have to do to get you to forgive him?’ 

‘Hypothetically he's going to have to get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness every time he sees me until I deem, he's forgiven. And he’s also gonna have to send every dollar in his bank account to me AND be my slave for the rest of his life...hypothetically.’ 

‘Lol you never know babydoll, he just might be willing to do anything for your forgiveness. I know I would.’ 

‘That’s because you’re perfect and care about my feelings...now I'm gonna go get some sleep before having to eat with the devil. Pray he doesn’t poison me and I survive the night.’ 

— 

You sit at the dinning room table waiting for Suguru. Of course, he’s late, he doesn’t care about anyone's time but his. You say so to your parents. 

“Y/n stop being so harsh and give him a chance please.” You roll your eyes and go back to scrolling on social media.  

“Sorry I'm late.” You jump at the deep voice before whipping your head to the left where your stepbrother stands looking so...so different. 

“Suguru! No need to apologize! Come sit.” Your mother points to the empty seat opposite you. Suguru glances at you and smiles before walking to the seat. You gasp. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile at you or anyone else. Actually, you know he hasn’t smiled at anyone, he was know for being so stoic. You watch intensely as he pulls out the chair and sits. He looks like a different man, his hair is long, down past his shoulders, the black shirt he's wearing stretches around a huge chest. He looks like he spends half his day in the gym. And those eyes—those eyes that always had heavy eyebags and glared at everyone that looked his way, look at you with gentle look you can’t place. They even crease with the smile that he’s wearing. Your eyes widen, he has a fucking dimple. He looks like a gentleman, he looks handsome. You can't stop staring at his smile. 

“Y/n? You alright?” You Stepdad breaks through the haze you were in. You look at your parents and back to Suguru who all have concerned expressions on their faces.  You feel your entire body heat in embarrassment.  

‘Uhm—yea I'm fine.” You look at your parents, refusing to look back at that smile.  Suguru has different plans. 

“Hey y/n, it’s been a long time yeah?” Suguru says in that deep voice that has your heart beating faster.  Out the corner of your eye you watch as Suguru reaches over the food, holding his hand out. Does he really think you’re about to give him a damn handshake?  

...Are you seriously thinking about shaking that huge hand? No, you won’t. 

You purse your lips and cross your arms over your chest. You swear you see him glance down at your cleavage but the next second, he's holding eye contact. You blink and look away with a ‘hmm’. He lowers his hand.  

“Alright guys let's eat, okay?” You mom breaks the tension. Everyone grabs their share, and you eat in silence for a while, nobody brave enough to speak and you simmering with anger at Suguru. You throw glare at him every time you look up from your plate which happens more times than you’d admit.  

“You got something there.” Suguru points the sharp end of the fork at you. 

“What?” You ask. 

“There,” He grabs his napkin and starts to reach for you. You tense suddenly locked in place. Suguru brings the napkin to the corner of your mouth and wipes it. “There you go.” 

You stare at him like he's grown three heads. Maybe he’s dying and wants to make amends? Why else would he be treating you like this. Maybe someone took over his body? That has to be it. 

“Uh thanks?” You mummer, unsure what to say. 

“You're welcome little sis.” You choke on your spit. What the hell did he just call you!? He must be messing with you; you’re suddenly filled with rage. You glare at him, hoping he disintegrates with the sheer force of your stare. 

“You’ve grown up.” Suguru says after another blinking contest, you lost. 

“Yea, have you?” You snarl. He stops smiling. 

“I have,” he says seriously, setting his fork down. “I want to talk about—” 

“I don’t care.” 

“Please—” 

“No!” You slam your hand on the table, and he goes silent. You’re overcome with guilt before you remember that he bullied you for a year, that he told the entire school to bully you after he graduated. Fuck him. 

— 

You slam the door the door of your room speed walking to the bathroom. You strip your clothes before turning on the tub. You finally breathe when you settle into the scolding hot water. You needed to wash his gaze, his touch, off your body. The entire dinner after your conversation was awkward, your parents didn't really speak, and you refused to glance back up at Suguru who wouldn't stop staring.  

You hated him. You hated him. You—you can’t bring yourself to hate him. For some unknown reason you can’t bring yourself to hate him despite everything he's put you through. Why? You shake your head. You don’t want to think of Suguru while you're trying to relax. You phone dings. You pick up and a smile replaces your frown. @Sssman72. 

‘How are you babydoll, you alive?’ 

‘Yes, wish I wasn’t though.’ 

‘Why what happened during dinner?’ You sigh and send him voice message detailing everything that happened. 

‘Oh wow.’ 

‘I know.’ 

‘You gonna give him a chance to explain?’ 

‘I don’t know I don’t want to but also, I want to hear his explanation...can we call I really don't want to type all of this out?’  

‘Course, give me a second. I'll call you.’ You wait a few minutes before you hear the familiar ring. 

“Hi handsome.” you smile at the blank profile. Right now, you’d do anything to see him, to hear him comfort you, to be in his arms. He could be the ugliest man in the world, you wouldn’t care. 

‘HI beautiful. Talk to me.’ He types into the chat box. 

“I don't know. like I said I want to hear him out but also, I don't want to hear it because what it it’s bad, what if it doesn’t excuse it? But also, what if it does and I feel like shit for being mean back—it's just so stressful.” 

‘I know babydoll. I wish I could be there right now and hold you. I would do anything to take that hurt away. I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ 

“Stop, don’t apologize you didn’t do anything. If anything, I should apologize for using you as a therapist when you paid to see me naked.” You laugh. 

‘Beautiful girl—I would rather pay to hear all your problems and be able to comfort you than see you naked again.’ 

“Wow you don’t want to see me naked, I'm hurt. Just kidding, thank you for saying that handsome.” You feel your heart skip a beat at his message. Maybe you can convince him to turn his camera on tonight. 

“I kinda wanna take my mind off everything right now.” You murmur into the phone before turning on your camera. You hold it above you and smile so he can see everything.  

‘So, fucking beautiful, prettiest girl in the world. You gonna give me a show?’ 

“hm,” You use your free hand to tap your chin. “Only if you do something for me.” 

‘And what is that?’ 

‘Can you turn your camera on? And before you say no, you don’ have to show your face—maybe you can just show your dick or something else. We can masturbate on the phone, please handsome please.” You whine giving him your best puppy face. You watch as the chat bubbles disappear and reappear. You’re about to back out but all the sudden you’re looking at a dim lit room and a huge cock between a big hand. Your eyes widen and the sight. 

"Y-you probably won’t be able to type and jack off at the same time” You suck in a breath. Please turn your audio on please... 

‘I’m gonna turn my audio on but I won’t talk, okay? Think you can get off on my moans babydoll?’  

You nod. 

‘Good girl now show me that pretty pussy, make it squirt for me.’ 

You lift yourself up to sit on the corner of the tub, propping one leg on tub and spreading the other that rests in the water. You flip the camera so your mystery man can watch you finger yourself. You hear him groan and spit onto his hand. 

You moan softly at the sound, teasing your entrance. You wish he was talking to through it, but you’ll settle for this for now. One day... 

“Mmm, wish you were the one fingering me right now,” You circle your clit before gliding your fingers out your cunt. 

“Wish you were here, holding me n' fucking me.” You curl your fingers into your g-spot and moan. You look back at your phone, watching your stranger play with the tip of his long cock. It looks so big compared to his hand, you know you’ll struggle to take it. Your pussy clenches around your small fingers that do close to nothing compared to your dildos at home.  

“Wan’ your cock in me so bad, it looks so big you’ll have to force me to take it, you’ll have to hold me down and make me take it.” You cry out. You watch as he squeezes his hand up and down his cock. It looks painful. He grunts louder. 

“M’gonna cum for you handsome, m’gonna give you what you want and make a mess,” You speed up your fingers to match how fast he slides his fist up and his cock. You moan louder, thankful that you got the suite and aren’t in the room next to your stepbrothers, how embarrassing it would be if he could hear you pleasuring yourself.  

You clench harder around your fingers. Your stranger starts to grunt and groan louder. You shiver at his deep voice on the edge of cumming. 

“Please please let me cum please! Can I come for you please?” You cry, your pussy starts to squelch, spurts of liquid coming out. 

“Yes, cum for me.” Your mystery man groans in an all too familiar voice but before you have time to think about it, you’re squirting, the grip on your phone loosening and falling into the water. 

“N-no!” 

— 

“Yes, this phone is done for, your mother and I are heading into town we can try to find a company that sells phone, but you know how small towns like this are.” You stepdad stares at your phone that’s been sitting in a container full of rice since last night.  

“Fuck, I need it for work! What am I going to do?” You look up at him in distress. 

“What do you need your phone for bartending?” He looks down at you incredulously. 

“My boss is sending me some important email and I didn't bring my computer.” You lie. 

“Well, you can use Suguru’s laptop, I saw him using it this morning in the sitting room. Think he left it there before he went on his run.” Your stepdad points down the hall as your mother rounds the corner.  

“Ready to go honey?” She asks your stepdad. 

“Coming! Use Suguru laptop to check your email, if we come back and you haven’t got the email you can use my phone. Bye! Have fun and be nice!” Your stepdad waves before following your mother. You wave back. 

 Of course, you had to use Suguru’s laptop. Maybe you can just log in, tell your stranger that you’re okay and that you won’t be able to contact him until you get a new phone and then delete the history before Suguru comes back from his run. It’ll only take a few minutes...you hope he doesn’t a password.  

You run to the sitting room, but you don’t see a laptop anywhere. Dammit, he always has to make things hard for you. You walk up the round staircase and down the hall until you're standing in front of Suguru’s room. You look around, as if Suguru's gonna pop up out of nowhere and attack you from going into his room. You shake the thought off and open his door. You stop and stare at the bed, you feel like you've seen that duvet. You chalk it up to a bunch of man having the same bedding before turning to scan the room for a laptop. You quickly spot the laptop on his desk and run to it. You sigh in relief when it opens to the last tab he had opened. Thank you Suguru for not caring about who gets into your shit. You click new tab and start to type in the name of the website you use before you freeze.  

You only need to type in three letters before the website popped up in top hits. You stop breathing. No... He couldn’t know what you do. Is that why he came here? Was he going to expose you to your parents? Was he acting nice to butter you up before crushing you? Your vision starts to blur. All boys watch porn, maybe he just happens to watch porn on the same website you film on. You can block your account from him so that he never finds you. You swallow before clicking the tab. You shakily move they pointer over to the search bar before you spot something in the left corner that makes you dizzy.  

Right where the username of the viewer is supposed to be is the username @Sssman72. Your heart stops and you feel wetness hit your hands. This can’t be real. You move to chat and cry out when you see your username. The last text he sent was asking what happened. No—this is a dream; you’re going to wake up and this is going to be a bad nightmare. You refuse to believe the man you’ve been slowly falling in love with over the last six months is your stepbrother, your bully. The man you confessed all your darkest secrets is the man who never showed you an ounce of kindness. Is this a part of his master plan? Is he going to blackmail you and hold all the nudes you’ve sent him and all the secrets you’ve told him over your head. You’re going to become his slave, doing whatever he wants of you until you die. You curl into yourself and cry harder at the thought.  

“Y/n? What are you do—” Suguru stops when he sees what's on the screen. “Let me explain please baby.” He reaches out to touch your shoulder. You flinch away from his touch.  

“D-don’t call me that,” You sob staring at him with such heartbreak in your eyes he wants to drop and beg for your forgiveness. “You-you, it was you the whole time.” Your voice breaks. 

Suguru nods slowly trying to reach out for you again. You take a few steps away. “Was this some masterplan to hold me under your thumb for the rest of my life!?” You scream at him. 

He’s grateful your parents went out of town; this would be an absolute shitshow if they were here.  

“No babydoll—” 

“I said don’t call me that you asshole! Stop pretending. I hate you Suguru! You win okay, you win!” You tell him before you run out of his room. He curses before running after you, you run up that stairs and into the suite but before you can shut the door Suguru shoves it open. You drop to your knees to pull your suitcase from under your bed. 

“Please listen to me y/n. I wasn’t faking—stop packing and let me explain.” Suguru pleads as he watches you throw your clothes into your suitcase. 

“Y/n, baby, please listen to me please” He grabs your arm, and you try to fight him, but he pulls you down onto the bed with him. He hugs you around the waist and you push in this chest trying to break free. His heart aches. He hates seeing you hurt, he hates that he was the one who made you cry like this. He hates that you only associate him with the version of himself that he created to stop anyone from seeing what he was truly feeling. He hates that you won’t accept the real version of him now that you know it was him. He holds you tighter as you scream and cry. He whispers sweet nothings as you whisper how much you hate him. At some point you stop fighting and wrapping your arms around his neck. You sniffle into his neck, and he rubs your backs and rocks you.  

“Why?” You ask hoarsely after all the anger leaves your body. Now you feel numb, like you're watching your life from a third perspective.   

“I never hated you, I never lied, and I never planned to blackmail you—I know you don’t believe me baby but everything I've ever told you on that app was real. Everything I feel for you is real.”   You pull your face out of his neck and stare up at him. You don’t believe him. 

“I have never hated you y/n. I swear it. I hated the fact that my father replaced my mother with yours not even a year after she died. Baby, I never fucking hated you. I was just a teenager who didn’t know how to express my emotions so I took them out of the person I knew I could hurt the most. It was bad I know; I feel like shit to this day. When I graduated and got away from my father, I realized how bad I was to you, and I got into therapy. I wanted to be better for myself, for you, for everyone around me. I didn’t know that the bullying continued when I left. I didn’t know how bad people had taken it until that day I came back home. When you told me off about it, I was so confused. I’m so fucking sorry. I want to reach out and apologize for everything and the day I planned to do it Satoru—my best friend, you remember him—well he sent me the link to your account and so I made an account and it all just spiralized out of control after that. I was too embarrassed to tell you it was me and then we started to form a connection, a real connection, and I didn’t want our conversations to end so—fuck I'm sorry. Everything I told you; I meant it. I fucking meant every word.”  

You sit there stunned, trying to comprehend everything he said. You never knew about his mother. You thought she had passed away long before your mom and his dad had met. But you remember when your stranger told you that. God, you remember when your not so mystery man told you about his family the seemed so familiar to yours. And he didn’t tell all those people to bully you after he left? Did he mean every word? Every word of affirmation he gave you. Those times when he told you that you were capable of being loved and that you were going to find someone who would love every part of you, the good and bad. Was that the same Suguru? You try to wrap your mind around the fact that the man you love is your stepbrother. 

“I know it’s a lot of information.” 

“It is.” 

“Do you believe me?” He looks at you with furrowed brows. You do. Despite everything you find yourself nodding. He sighs and you feel the tension release from his shoulders that your arms are wrapped around. You suddenly realize the position you two are in and feel your face heat. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your legs are on either side of his thick thighs his cock, the cock that you saw last night, is right underneath you, if you lower yourself an inch, you’d be sitting on it.  

Suguru grips your waist with one hand, the other cupping the right side of your face. You look up at him and sniffle. He leans down until your foreheads are touching.  

“If you give me achance, I'll treat you like the queen you are. I’ll love you the way you’re meant to be loved. One chance is all I ask for.” He mummers rubbing your noses together.  

You hesitate, one part of you wants to run away with him because he’s the man you’ve wanted for the last six months. The other part of you wants to run away from him, he’s your stepbrother, he lied, and you don't know if he would’ve ever told you the truth. But isn’t that what he came here to do? Can you blame a little boy for being mad at the people who replaced his mother?  

You give him his answer by grabbind his neck and push his lips towards you. If this does go to hell at least you’ll have a story to tell your feature children.  

Suguru kisses back before standing and pulling you off him. “What—” 

“You said you wanted me on my knees, didn't you? I’m ready to serve you in any way you want. I can have my savings transferred to your account by tomorrow night.” He says as he drops to his knees. You stare at him with wide eyes as he holds your legs and starts kissing from knee to right where your pussy starts.  

“Suguru—” 

“Shh babydoll let me take care of my girl, show her how sorry I am for hurting her.” He mummers before dropping your leg and picking up the next one. He repeats this a few more times before finally asking you to lift your hips so he can pull your leggings and panties off. Suguru throws your pants behind him before standing up to pull your tank top off. You reach behind to unbuckle your bra and toss it on the floor with your other clothes. Suguru chuckles, reaching up to kiss all over your face. 

“Take your clothes off too Sugu.” You giggle, reaching for his sweatpants. You get a firm grip and yank them down. His thick cock bounces out. Your mouth goes slack. The phone call didn’t do it justice. It somehow looks bigger than before and if you weren’t wet before, you are now. That thing is going to be inside you soon.  

“Like what you see beautiful?” You nod dumbly as you watch Suguru step out of his pants and take his shirt off with one hand. He’s so fucking sexy.  

He drops back down to his knees and pulls you until your ass is hanging off the bed. “Lay down and let me please you.”  You comply and watch as Suguru lifts your legs up and buries his face in your cunt. Your hands fly down to his long shiny hair. 

“Suguru!” You moan as he licks you from asshole to clit. He sucks on your clit before biting both lips. Your pussy clenches. “Feels s’good Sugu!” You grind down on his talented tongue. Suguru hums into your clit before setting one of you thighs in his shoulder and bringing his fingers to your entrance. He teases you, only pushing his fingers into the joint before taking them out. You cry out in frustration before pulling on his long hair when he finally slides two big fingers into you. 

Yours definitely don't compare to his long thick ones. Your back arches off the bed as Suguru fingers jackhammer into you all the while his mouth sucks on your clit.  

“S’good Sugu! Don’t stop!” You scream letting go of hair with one hand to cover your loud mouth.  

“Don’t hide those sweet moans from me babydoll. If you want my cock, you’ll let me hear you scream my name as you cum on my fingers and mouth.” 

You bring you hand back to hair and grind hard as you get closer and closer to orgasm.  

“Gonna cum! M’gonna come!” You cry, as you release all over Suguru's face. He moans and sucks even harder before adding another finger. You cry at the sudden intrusion. It doesn't take long before you’re coming all over again, this time liquid shooting out of you and onto Sugu’s chest.  

“Yes baby, that's it—what a good girl,” He praises as he slurps up all your juices. “Such a fucking good gril f’me.” 

“Gimme a kiss.” You say between heavy breaths.  

“Does the pretty girl want kiss?” You nod, pulling Suguru down with you by the shoulders. 

“Want you to kiss me while you fuck me for the first time. Want it to be special,” You confess shyly. Suguru leans down and pecks you on the forehead, then the nose, and then both of your cheeks. 

“Don’ tease meanie!” You laugh when he kisses the corner of your lips. 

“M’sorry baby, can you forgive me?” He pouts.  

“Hmm—I’ll forgive you only if you kiss me right no—” You don’t even finish your sentence before Suguru shoves his tongue down your throat. You kiss him back and your tongues fight for dominance. Suguru wins and smiles into the kiss. You can’t believe this is happening. Your bully, your stepbrother, your mystery man is kissing you right now. Your about to make love with said man. 

“You okay babydoll?”  

“Mhm, just can’t believe this is all happening.” 

“Me too beautiful, you sure you want to do this right now? We can always wait.” 

“No, I want to. I want you.” You raise your hand to tuck his hair behind his ear. He smiles, showing you that adorable dimple. You kiss it.  

Suguru kisses your lips once more before he grabs his cock, rubbing it up and down your cunt. 

“Fuck—I don’t have a condom.” 

“I’m on the pill—please Sugu.” You beg, frustrated from all this foreplay. You’ve been on edge since last tight in the tub.  

“Alight beautiful,” He pushes the head of his cock into you. “Fuck me—you feel so good. Always knew you would.” You feel his fist guide his long cock into you. You moan. He fits you perfectly.  

“Sugu—feel’s s’good, want more!” You cry, fisting the blanket’s underneath you.  

“Does my baby want more—does she want to orgasm on my cock?” You nod watching Suguru lift your legs to his shoulder. He leans down, bringing your feet to the side of your head. You whine at the stretch. 

Suguru groans as he pulls his cock in and out of you.  

“S’too much!” You moan into his shoulder. He just laughs and picks up his pace. The fancy headboard above the bed starts to slam against the wall. You watch with blurry eyes as the stock photos hung on the wall shake.  

“Said you wanted more baby, ‘m giving you more.”  he says before biting into your neck. Hard. You scream, back arching at the pain. Your hands fist the sheets even tighter, knuckles turning white. Suguru unlatches his jaw. Lifting his head to admire his mark. Now all your customers will know you belong to someone. To him. He kisses the mark. 

“Sugu, It’s too much. Hurts! m’gonna cum!” You cry, tears soaking the blanket breath you. 

“Oh, don't cry baby—shhh—you’re so beautiful y/n. So damn pretty.” He whispers, coaxing you to orgasm. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. You stop breathing for a second as your pussy contracts around Suguru's cock. Suguru follows in suit, spurting his cum deep inside your pussy. 

“Fuck,” he draws out, collapsing onto you.  

“T-that was—” 

“The best sex ‘ve ever had.” 

“Same.” You smile before wincing. 

“What’s wrong babydoll.”  

“You're about to break my damn hip if you keep my legs up any longer,” Suguru lefts himself enough to bring your legs to his sides. “And you probably ripped a chunk of my neck off with that little trick of yours.” You grumble. 

“It’s not bad, promise.” He kisses the bite mark softly. 

“And all the pictures fell of the wall.”  

“I’ll put ‘em back up baby,” He laughs into your ear. “Just let me hold you for a second.”  He kisses your cheek before snuggling deeper into you. You throw your arms around his shoulder while you both try to wrap your head around everything that happened.  

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reunion

Summary: A short sequel to 5 Times Natasha Came to Rescue Y/n, plus the 1 Time She Didn't Arrive In Time

Authors note: Someone on Wattpad really wanted this and it inspired me to get some writing done for once lol. So here is a small drabble

Word Count: 809

Natasha Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

    Natasha wakes with a jolt and finds herself laying in some grass looking up at the outstretched branches of a nearby tree. This causes her brows to crease as confusion settles in. She's not sure why or how, but she knows this isn’t right. This isn’t where she's supposed to be.

   She sits up to further take in her surroundings and is shocked to see nothing but rolling hills and bright blue skies. The sound of moving water nearby has her shifting her gaze to find a stream. The sight of the water has her realizing just how dry her mouth is so not knowing what else to do, she figures she might as well quench her thirst.

   As she sits up she's struck by just how sore her entire body is. It feels like she's done every exercise in the Shield training manual before sparring a few rounds with Steve. She shakes off this feeling though and trudges forward towards the stream. As she settles on her knees in front of it she notices just how clear it is, and as she dips her hands in they are met with a coldness that only comes from mountain water. 

   She cups them together and eagerly brings them to her lips, letting the refreshing liquid make its way down her parched throat. She takes a few more sips before rising to her feet again, and she looks around once more. What had she been doing to end up here? There was a mission, wasn't there? No. No that wasn’t right, it wasn’t a mere mission. What she was on was so much more than that and was incredibly important. 

   Suddenly a sharp pain makes its way up her spine that nearly takes her to her knees, and the back of her head throbs with such an intensity that she cries out. She braces the back of her head with her hands and grits her teeth as she tries to figure out what's going on. And as the sun catches on the arrow necklace that dangles from her neck, it all comes rushing back. 

   She had been with Clint on a planet called Vormir. A sacrifice was required to gain the soul stone, and she hadn’t let him be the one to jump. She remembers he had tried to save her though, but she hadn’t let that stop her. She had fallen. Which means…she had died. She swallows harshly as she looks around once more. Did that mean…was this the afterlife? 

   She's almost certain that it was, but she can’t ponder on it too long as the sound of footsteps gains her attention. She's not sure who or what she had been expecting, but the person she sees walking towards her exceeds all expectations, and she can already feel warm tears dripping down her cheeks.

   “Y/n!!” she shouts as she runs straight at you, she practically throws herself into your arms and her embrace has enough force behind it that you both go tumbling into the grass below. The feeling of your arms around her once more after so many years has a sob escaping her, and her hold on you tightens as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, “After I lost you, I was lost too. Everyone wanted me to try to move on, but I just couldn’t detka(baby), and I didn't want to either. You were, and still are my everything. I love you so much.”

  But she didn’t have to say any of that, the pair of wedding rings you’d seen dangling from the same chain as Clint's arrow charm had already told you that. You turn slightly to nuzzle your cheek against hers, “I love you too, Tasha. And while I missed you more than I could ever describe, I would have waited even longer for you”

   “I’m sorry” she mumbles, not wanting you to be upset with her 

   “Don’t apologize Natasha, please.” you assure her, “You were so strong, my love. And so brave. What you did…you saved the world”

    She moves her head back enough to look at you properly though her vision is still blurred by tears, “It worked, then?”

   You nod as your hands move to cup her face, “You did it baby, everyone's home now”

   She lets out a tearful relieved chuckle and smiles at you so softly that you can no longer hold back. Without a second thought you bring your lips to meet hers for a kiss that you waited years for, and Nat, who thought she’d never get to experience this again practically melts against you. And she knows then the truth of your words, because not only was half the universe returned home but she was as well. You were her home, and had been the moment she realized she loved you.

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

[homelanderbutbig]

Sympathy For The Dead (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2145 words. Angst, and a bit of hurt/comfort. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You are forced to come to terms with Homelander's violent tendencies when he murders someone for flirting with you. Inspired by an ask from @adryrivera.

It's early in the morning on the set of 'In Depth With Maria Menounos'. Homelander has an interview scheduled today, and you are accompanying him as his personal assistant. This is the first time you've had this opportunity to come along to one of his functions outside of the Tower, and you're pretty excited. Being on a television production is an entirely different world compared to the mundane office work at Vought, and you're enjoying it even if you're just watching on the sidelines.

When it's time for Homelander to go on-air, you're standing back by the rest of the crew so you can witness your favourite supe work his magic. You smile as he switches on that acting charm when the cameras start rolling, so easily bringing all eyes on him with the suave nature he's perfected over the years. He's such a sight to behold when he's in the spotlight, showcasing that electrifying personality that's as big as he is.

"Don't remember seeing you around here before," a voice suddenly says from behind you. It happens to be one of the cameramen, grinning as he checks you out.

"Oh, yes, I'm Homelander's assistant. Nice to meet you," you politely respond, tucking your clipboard under one arm to shake his hand.

"A supe's assistant huh? That must be an interesting job," he comments, still smirking.

"It's never a dull moment," you laugh, thinking to yourself that he doesn't know the half of it.

"So… you uh, you doing anything later?" he asks, resting his elbow on top of the camera. You're taken aback by his words. Is he… is he asking you out?

"I-I'm sorry, I'm seeing someone," you disclose, perhaps a bit more curtly than you hoped. But all you can think of when hearing that is how pissed Homelander would be at this poor guy.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't realize," he blushes, quickly getting embarrassed by how spectacularly he's struck out.

"Don't worry about it, it's not a problem," you giggle. You can't fault a guy for trying. "Let's just get back to our jobs and forget this happened?"

You're glad he doesn't seem to have taken offense as he nods, letting out a flustered laugh. He returns to operating the camera, and you back to focusing on your clipboard full of the day's scheduling. At least you successfully brushed this situation off, with no harm done.

However, you don't notice Homelander's reaction as he observes this from the midst of his interview.

~~~

After the talk show is done filming, you get caught up talking to Ashley and lose track of time. She's yapping on about Homelander's points and how well this interview went, just more work talk that you could care less about. When you eventually manage to break free, you notice that Homelander is nowhere to be found, having already left the set. But you doubt that he'd leave the building without you so you start your search, happy to tell him how proud you are of his interview.

But you weren't expecting what you find in the downstairs hallway.

You figured he just made a quick getaway because he's always mentioned how much he loathes these mind-numbing talk shows. But instead, you discover his true intentions.

He was following the cameraman.

He kept his pace fast but light, allowing him to go undetected to the man's pathetic human ears. And when he had him isolated in the hallway, he wasted no time letting this worthless, primitive vermin pay for daring to make an advance on you. He lasered a hole straight through his crotch, causing the man to collapse on the ground in agony. He reveled in the look of absolute terror as this worm realized his fate was sealed. He then painstakingly applied pressure to his head, savouring the satisfying crunch of his bones until it was crushed under the supe's boot, leaving nothing but an indistinguishable mess of blood and gore.

You are rooted to the floor, petrified at the sight of what he's done. His head snaps towards you, face twisted with rage and eyes still shining a bright crimson as they stare directly into your soul.

"Come here," you growls at you, raising his hand to signal for you to approach him. He knows you are afraid; he can hear your heart's pace quickening and smell the cortisol levels in your blood spiking. In his mind, he believes you will come to your senses and realize this decision was for the best. You will understand he did this to save you. You are his. You will listen to him. You will obey.

But you don't listen. You only freeze for a second before you turn around and flee. The last thing you hear as you run out of the building is Homelander roaring your name.

~~~

You spend the rest of the day aimlessly traversing the city, paying no attention to where you are going. You needed time alone before you return back to the Tower, before you face Homelander.

It still feels so fresh in your mind. One moment you were chatting with this man, and the next his life is over. In a flash, a human life is snuffed out. Someone with a family, with hopes and dreams. All for what, because he made the fatal error of asking you out on a date?

And the worst sight of all, was the expression on Homelander's face. There was no remorse, no tinge of regret for seeing how you reacted. It was just pure hatred for this man, an absolute stranger. You can't help but wonder how many people he's killed without you knowing.

Finally, the sun begins to set along the city skyline. Night is approaching, and you know you can't simmer on this any longer. You need to confront him, you need answers. Gathering yourself, you catch a taxi back to Vought Tower, and begin your ascent to the penthouse.

With a shaky breath, you step off the elevator once it reaches the top floor and walk briskly inside. However, not in a million years were you expecting what you see in the penthouse. Your lengthy absence clearly took a stronger toll on him than you ever anticipated… he's destroyed the living room. The large American flag tapestry is torn to shreds, adorned with scorch marks from a now extinguished fire. Every single marble statue is cut clean from his laser eyes and smashed to pieces, the gray rubble scattered across the floor. Not even his immaculate leather couch was spared, having been ripped in half by two inhumanly strong hands.

And lastly, in the middle of the chaos, silently sits Homelander on the floor. He's leaning up against the wall, his arms wrapped around his bent-up knees. His face is flushed, eyes bloodshot and puffy from what you can only imagine was a waterfall of tears. Right now he looks like a child trying to huddle himself into a ball because he knows he's in trouble. Yet, you can't help but notice the bloody viscera of the cameraman still coating his boot.

"Why are you here?" he utters abruptly, snapping you back to reality after being overcome by the state of the penthouse. Despite his sad demeanor, his words are blunt and laced with deflection. When you don't answer him, he exhales loudly through his nose. "Why did you come back if you hate me?"

"I don't hate you Homelander," you retort, not taking his bait. You're not sure if that was the answer he was expecting as you watch him tense his jaw.

"Are you mad at me?" he questions you further. You aren't certain if he's fishing for a reason for you to comfort him, or so he can kill you too.

"No. I'm not angry at you," you reply. "But I am disappointed and upset at what you did."

He swallows hard at that, feeling the tears once again well up in his eyes. Disappointed.

"H-he was dangerous… I d-did it to protect you," he mumbles hoarsely. Your unimpressed glower signals to him that you aren't buying his excuses. He knows you aren't going to forgive him, and that's enough to make him hyperventilate. He lowers his head down into his arms, unable to stop himself from crying again. Unable to stop his thoughts from convincing himself that this is how your relationship is going to end.

With a deep sigh, you cross your arms and shake your head at his behaviour. These tears aren't out of sympathy for the dead. You know for a fact that he has no guilt over murdering the cameraman, he's only regretful because he's displeased you.

But the longer you stare at him sobbing so pathetically, the more you start to realize something. You're not looking at the same supe that killed the cameraman; this is Homelander's inner child. This is the boy who was tortured and withheld from love, that had this violence forcibly bred into him. His power over humans was all he had, and now it's so ingrained into his psyche that he cannot stop it from rearing its ugly head.

When he killed the cameraman, he was no longer a man but a dog. He presented his carcass to you as a present, to show you his love in a way you could never comprehend. His love is something feral, that scares everyone else away when it bares its fangs. Yet it has no bite, when deep down his love is never reciprocated, but feared when it becomes too much for the object of his affections to handle.

And as much as it pains you, you know you are going to have to accept this part of him. Because you are the only one who's tamed this dog, and seen the sweet puppy it becomes with just a little compassion.

Methodically, you walk over beside him and place a hand on his arm. Right now with him sitting on the ground you're standing about a foot higher, getting a vantage point you don't experience very often. Hesitantly, he tilts his head up at you. His blue eyes are teeming with apprehension, with the longing for your forgiveness of his actions… even if deep down he knows he doesn't deserve it.

"Hun, I would never let someone else come between us," you soothe him, lifting your hand up from his arm to lightly caress his cheek, saturated with his tears. The second he feels your soft fingers his tension begins to melt away, moving his head up and down to desperately facilitate a pet.

Slowly, Homelander opens up his posture, to allows you to come in between his legs and up to his face. He delicately rests his hands on your waist, waiting for permission to hug you. He can't just take what he wants, not now. He can't bear to make you this unhappy at him ever again.

"And you know what? If I saw somebody flirting with you, I'd get jealous too," you remark, your hands still cupping his face. "But I'm not going to stew on my jealousy until I feel the only solution is violence. I'm going to get those emotions out by talking to you. Because I love you, and I care about you more than anything else."

You steadily come closer to him, spreading your arms across his shoulders to finally give him the hug he's been longing for all day. He wastes no time enveloping you in his hold, burying you in his massive arms as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. Your fingers scratch at the back of his undercut, bringing this dog down to your heels in an instant. Any semblance of rage he may have had earlier in the day has now evaporated into the ether, leaving nothing but the desire for obedience.

"The next time you start to feel yourself getting worked up… wherever you are, can you come find me? Can that be something we work on together?" you ask. His brief nod against your shoulder is enough of an answer, you know he would never lie. And besides, the two of you don't need to say anything else right now. All that's left for today is to let this moment fade into sleep, and let tomorrow be the time to clean up the mess.

While sinking into your embrace, Homelander has his own realization. The way he feels about you is different than his past relationships. You are not his 'property' that he is envious of others ogling. You are his treasure, one that sees the good in him despite all of his own horrible faults. One that he feels he must guard with his entire being.

He is going to be better, if not for himself than just for you.

[yandere-sins]

Not to be the monsterfucker y'all know and love but I was running around, clearing the map today a bit while I was waiting for a visitor and I found these absolute UNITS of skeletons (They are called Death Shepherds):

Like HELLO???? I don't even mean that sexually but WHY ARE THEY SO FREAKIN' HOT???? (Sorry for the crap resolution on the first pic, I forgot screenshot's existed and used my phone, but then I remembered.)

Also they were HUGE BOYS (yes, plural, there were 2. Like Gale certainly has BJ height at most next to them, they were MASSIVE CHUNKS OF SKELETON AND ARMOR!!) compared to everyone else, even my Dragonborn Tav, and they kept reanimating the ghouls (which weren't as pretty), so I told my friend who was obviously appalled by how infatuated I was with the skeletons really tickled my inspiration for them, and I was thinking...

Yandere skeletons that are just your scary dog privilege, protection squad.

(And no, we are not sexualizing this time, this is not Sans Undertale.)

You should have died that day you met them, but without any apparent reason, they didn't attack you. They just watch you with their holes for eyes, ever so slightly creeping closer. It's not until the ghouls sticking around them notice you that you get into grave danger. You see those hungry, violent creatures charge at you, their claws scraping over stone and dirt as they come for your life, when, suddenly, the sound of a sharp blade cutting through the air and then flesh fills the crossroad where your unfortunate encounter takes place.

The scream ripping from your throat gets stuck as the head of the ghoul that attacked you rolls up to your feet, a now bloody sword lowering again as you hear the other ghouls whimper—whimper!—before they take off the other way. Instead, the two skeletons stalk closer, their armor rattling as if they were still living, breathing beings going off to war. Instead, one bends down, inspecting you with soulless eyes, its hand coming up to cup your cheek as if concerned with the horror etched into your face.

There's no getting rid of them. After standing around for what feels like ages, you are as confused as you are increasingly in a hurry to get away. Once you take enough steps away to turn your back to them without fearing being struck down, you make a mad dash for your life, running until your thighs burn and lungs beg for a moment to breathe—only to hear their armor rattle behind you.

Honestly, purely from a travel companion point of view, you cannot ask for anyone better. They are swift and skilled in battle, scaring away anyone who dares to come close to you, and incredibly low maintenance, as they don't need food or shelter, really. But they aren't mindless goons either, and that's where things get crazy.

Because one night, they decide they deserve cuddles for all the good they do.

As if being watched by the darkness in their eye sockets while you sleep isn't bad enough, you feel the hard armor press to your back one night, an arm—clothed but mere bones—wrapping around you from behind, face nestling into the nape of your neck. You can kind of come to terms with them trotting behind you all day, never saying anything, never leaving your side. You might even be thankful for their help when they keep robbers and goblins at bay and you out of any harm's way. Hell, you let them watch you do anything like eat, sleep, and—despite feeling unwarranted shame rake its claws down your body—bathe. But this was getting out of hand.

It could have been okay if it had only been a moment, but learning that these creatures sought out contact this intimate freaks you out. And it's never just a moment of putting their souls at ease, no. Because no matter how much you wriggle, they won't let go of you, their scraggy fingers digging into your flesh. You'll have to wait for them to switch if you want to try and escape, leaving everything behind to make a run for it in the middle of the night. But in stark contrast to you, who ran into the darkness without the time to collect things, they have all their belongings on them if they pick up their swords, and they can run endlessly without worrying about aches and stamina, catching up to you quickly. You'll just hang your head and be escorted back to camp when you decide to stop panicking, only for them to take the opportunity to rearrange and occupy both sides of your bedroll as they please once you want to lay down for another sleepless night.

It's not like you can get rid of them. You can't take them both on and if one falls, the other will just bring it back to life in an endless circle. You saw it before; no doubt it will happen again. Even if you talk to them, ask them questions, or shoo them away, they don't budge and cannot answer, getting into motion again only if you do. The most they ever give you to indicate their thoughts is laying their head to the side as if they don't understand you. Or admire you. Or stare at you adoringly. Who knows.

Things turn from bad to worse when you decide to end your adventure and return home. The stares you receive when you enter the city you live in with your hulking, undead companions are mortifying. Some people faint on the spot; others scream. And the two try to fight anyone trying to squeeze past them, seeing them as possible enemies to you. They made sure your life will never be the same. Neither friends nor family can get close to you, and no one dares to talk with you, trade, or even look your way. These two are creating a life where you'll be separated from anyone but them, and you begin to doubt they are doing it unintentionally. You'll never be able to free yourself unless you find a group that manages to actually kill them both.

But then again, as you stare at the night sky, stars twinkling above you, you can't help but feel bad for the two boney companions hugging you and resting their hard heads on your chest. The same ones that are so scarily indifferent, yet swift and merciless in a fight, straight out of a horror story with blood splattered on their white faces and swords in hand. Yet, they pick up flowers for you on the way or clean your equipment while you're asleep, hunting food for you and preparing it so you can cook and eat it right away. They are like needy puppies, putting their heads on top of yours while you read the map or admire the scenery, or hold onto your sleeve as you walk through a dark cave so you don't get lost. Clearly, they have some lingering sentiment, searching for warmth and affection from you. There's nowhere for you to run or hide, as they have all the time and strength to go after you. Maybe you shouldn't have given them names, shouldn't have treated them kindly when you started to travel together. But all these regrets come now when it's already too late.

Because they will let nothing and no one take you from them, no matter who or what they have to fight, just so they can have you all to themselves.

Their pretty, little, alive darling with a heart that races so fast whenever they do anything, be it scare or love you. 

__________________

Bonus points for you somehow dying despite their efforts (traps and magic are a bitch to avoid), so they keep reviving you, and they either... 

a.) succeed, and now you owe them your life and have to live with the knowledge of what it's like to die and that they'll most likely keep reviving you, even if you die of old age. So you'll suffer eternally with them.

b.) don't succeed, and can't accept/don't understand you're dead, so they carry your body around, trying to show you all the pretty things they learned you like as you slowly decay in their arms until you are a mere skeleton like them, so they lay you to rest in a grave with them, coming alive only when someone tries to rob your grave before returning to slumber next to you. You three won't even be apart in death.

Like, sorry guys, that's my emotional support yandere skeleton beloved ♥

[aewon]

what's after like?

sunghoon x f!reader genre: fluff warnings: none wc: 1,295

inspired by after like by ive!

for @bywons event! love u sruby

Sunghoon has been your best friend for as long as you can remember.

Your earliest memory is of 4-year-old you with 4-year-old Sunghoon, playing in the sandbox. 

A mean kid came by and ruined Sunghoon's sand castle. You didn't like seeing another kid cry, so you told the boy's mom. 

He got dragged out of the park, kicking and screaming.

You returned to the sandbox to see Sunghoon smiling, and that's when you introduced yourselves.

From that point forward, you and Sunghoon were inseparable.

You went through every stage of life together, even the awkward ones.

Of course, when puberty struck, you noticed Sunghoon becoming more handsome than you last remembered. 

Now, you didn't say anything.

Sunghoon was cocky in a playful way. You didn't want to stroke his ego further. 

This newfound attractiveness came with more people, especially girls, interested in Sunghoon.

You were 14 when he got his first girlfriend.

Not wanting to cross any boundaries, you stepped back, only interacting with Sunghoon when he initiated it.

That relationship didn't last, and before you knew it, Sunghoon became known as one of your school's playboys. Having a new girlfriend every month became a habit for him.

But you didn't judge. You didn't pry. You didn't do anything.

Sunghoon was still your best friend, and you didn't want to jeopardize that.

Today, you and Sunghoon are at your house, chilling. 

“How are you and Veronica?” You ask, messing with your hair in front of your vanity.

Sunghoon, lying on your bed, shakes his head before saying, “We broke up.”

Confused, you turn to him, “But I thought you guys were doing well?”

“It just didn't work,” he said, scrolling through his phone.

While Sunghoon has had several girlfriends, you haven't even had your first boyfriend. 

Being a senior in high school without even having your first kiss is kind of embarrassing. Then again, you've never been teased for it.

“Can you help me get a boyfriend?” You ask, taking the conversation in a completely different direction. 

“You don't need a boyfriend,” Sunghoon replies curtly, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“I know I don't need one, but I want one. You get to have a million and one girlfriend, but I can't have a boyfriend?”

Sunghoon finally looks up at you, but the usual playfulness in his eyes is not present. Instead, he almost looks angry.

“Guys are no good. You don't need somebody who's just going to play with your heart.”

You don't know why you're suddenly annoyed, but before you can stop yourself, you snap, “What, someone like you?”

Sunghoon eyes widen, taking in your words. 

You turn away from him, immediately regretting what you said, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean that-”

Before you can say anything else, Sunghoon leaves your room. You call after him, flinching as you hear the front door slam.

Tears prick your eyes, and you bury your head in your hands.

Great, now you just ruined the one genuine friendship you had.

The next day at school, you try to look for Sunghoon, but he's nowhere to be found.

You ask his other friends, a group of boys Sunghoon met in his first year.

“I saw him this morning, but he seemed to be in a pissy mood, so we didn't bother him. Did something happen?” Heeseung asks.

You sit at the table, telling them what happened the day before.

“Y/N, don't worry about it. Technically, what you said isn't wrong. Maybe it sparked something inside Hoon,” Sunoo says, touching your shaking one.

The other guys look at each other like they know something you don't. As you're about to ask what's up, the bell rings.

You sigh, frustrated, but get up, leaving for class.

The rest of the day passes with no sign of Sunghoon. In your last period of the day, you hear two girls gossiping in the back corner.

“Did you hear about Sunghoon?”

They immediately catch your attention, and you subtly lean back to hear the rest of the conversation.

“What happened?”

“Younghee asked him out during lunch, and he rejected her. Can you believe it?”

Younghee? You know her, she's one of the most popular girls in your school.

She asked Sunghoon out, and he rejected her, you wonder why.

From what you know, she's a nice girl. There's no reason as to why Sunghoon shouldn't have at least given her a chance.

Once the bell rings and your day ends, you rush to the parking lot to see if you can spot Sunghoon's car.

You see it, but he's already speeding out of the parking lot onto the street.

You sigh. He must be avoiding you. You must've hurt his feelings.

Getting into your own car, you drive home with a sense of guilt plaguing your heart.

When you get home, you see Sunghoon's car parked by your house.

He's sitting on your porch, head in his hands.

You park in your driveway, get out, and walk up to him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, slinging your bag across your shoulder.

He looks up, his eyes red, like he'd been crying.

You immediately bend down to his height, “Hoon, what's wrong? Did something happen?”

He shakes his head, “No, I just needed to talk to you.”

You invite him inside, and the house is quiet because your parents aren't home.

He sits on the couch while you go to the kitchen for water. 

Once you sit down, Sunghoon starts speaking. 

“I'm sorry for running out on you yesterday and avoiding you today at school. I just had a lot on my mind.”

“Sunghoon, I should be the one apologizing. What I said was too much, and I didn't mean it.”

He shakes his head, “You don't need to apologize… you were right. I do play with girl’s hearts. I’m one of the guys I told you to stay away from.” 

“But Sunghoon,” you start, “You're so much more than that. You're kind and caring. You put others before yourself, especially me. You're one of the greatest people I've ever known. I don't know why your relationships don't work out, but they don't define you.”

“I know why they don't work out,” he says, “They don't work out because I'm the one who doesn't give any effort.”

“But why, Sunghoon?”

“Because they're not who I truly want.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch, putting your hand over his, “Then who do you want, Hoon?”

He pauses.

“You, Y/N. I want you. I've always wanted you.”

You don't register his answer for a second, the words running through your mind a million miles a minute.

“Me?”

Sunghoon nods, “It's always been you. I know I shouldn't have used those other girls, but… I thought I couldn't have you.”

“Sunghoon,” you coo, “You've always had me.”

You place a gentle hand on his cheek, turning his head to face you.

His lip wobbles like he's going to cry again.

You press your lips on his, stroking his cheek.

He kisses you back, turning his head to deepen it.

You've never felt something like this—this amount of happiness and warmth.

His hands make their way to your waist, holding you tightly.

You feel his tongue tease your bottom lip.

Opening your mouth slightly, you let him inside. 

The taste of him makes you feel weak.

You don't want to pull away, but you need air, so you do reluctantly. 

“Is this real?” Sunghoon asks, stroking your waist with his big hands.

You giggle, “It's real, Hoonie. You know what comes after like?”

He shakes his head.

“Love. I love you, Sunghoon.”

He smiles, his fangs, your favorite part of him, showing. “I love you more, Y/N.”

i will be updating mafs today so look out for that hehe

[lycheedr3ams]

Death's Angel

Part 8: On Angel Wings

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, possessive!konig, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

Part 7

I can't thank you all enough for the support i've gotten on this fic! this fic is what made my blog big and i just can't believe it's been so well-received. don't worry, it's a happy ending!!! also I'm sorry this took so long...I hope you guys like the ending. I'm super nervous my writing quality on this story went down, but maybe I'm too critical of my work. in any case, I hope you guys enjoy!

.......

series inspired by the art below!

you weren't sure how much time passed when you woke up in a warm bed. you blinked open your eyes and rubbed the exhaustion out of them. you looked around the room, and noticed konig sitting right by your side.

"Engel?" he asked softly. you had never heard his voice so tender.

"what happened?" you asked. you tried to sit up, but were immediately struck with a sharp pain in your chest. konig gently pushed you back down on the bed.

"lay down, Engel. you are hurt. you need to rest."

you looked down at your chest, and realized that it was wrapped with bloodied bandages. your dress was nowhere to be seen, but the blanket covered your lower half.

"what happened? where are we?" you asked as you could feel panic rising.

"we are somewhere we will never be found by anyone who wishes to separate us," konig said quietly. "you..." he couldn't finish his sentence as he cleared his throat.

"i what?" you asked.

konig shook his head. "you protected me. it is not supposed to be that way. i am supposed to protect you, and i couldn't." konig's head hung low in shame, his eyes now completely obscured from you.

you suddenly remembered everything that had happened right up to when the sword fell. your heart raced.

"i...my body just acted on its own. it was like i didn't have control over myself. it just happened." you thought for a long moment, and it was silent. konig's head still hung low.

"i don't regret it, though," you said firmly. konig looked at you in confusion.

"i promised to protect you, and here you are, laying in a bed soaked in your own blood," he said quietly as his eyes glassed over.

you smiled. "it's okay. i would do it again if i had to. but where are we? what happened to the knights?"

konig was silent for a little while. you closed your eyes.

"we are in france now. a little countryside town. after the soldiers patched you up, they realized that you weren't lying. they agreed to pretend that it never happened. but they will be back in a week, to make sure this is what you really want." his voice was quiet as he spoke.

"so...my parents and siblings still think i've been kidnapped?"

konig nodded.

"no. they need to know that you are not in the wrong. they need to know that i chose this."

"i don't know if that's a good idea," konig said after a moment. "they will say I brainwashed you."

"i don't care what they will say. if they don't believe me, that's on them. i will have the soldiers take a letter to them once they go back, and i will never speak to them again," you decided.

konig stared at you for a long while. he gently took your hand and stroked it with his thumb.

"i am sorry things turned out this way," he whispered as he looked at your hand.

you shook your head. "i wouldn't have it any other way, konig. i'm with you, and we can have our own life here. what is this town like?"

konig still stroked your hand as he spoke. "there are lavender fields surrounding the town, and a small forest to the east. there is an empty plot of land where a house can be built. the people are kind, and it is quiet and peaceful."

you smiled. "it sounds perfect."

konig brought your hand up to his lips as he lifted his hood to kiss the back of your hand. "i will make it up to you."

"there is nothing to make up, konig," you assured him with a smile. "everything will be okay now."

konig shook his head. "i will give you the life you deserve, my princess. i will build a house for you, and you can have as many gardens and animals as you like. you will have the finest sheets once again, and you will never want for anything."

you smiled. "as long as i have you, i will never want."

...

several months later

You walk out of the cottage that Konig had built for you and him on this warm morning. the birds are chirping and a gentle breeze blows over the lavender fields to the right of your cottage. you smile to yourself as you breath in the scent of lavender, and hear your sheep, ducks, and goats already waking up for the day. your garden, fenced off with bushes and a trellis with roses, blooms brilliantly in the morning sun.

konig quietly comes up behind you and wraps his strong scarred arms around you. he nuzzles your head gently with his nose and smiles underneath his hood.

"good morning, my Engel," he whispers gently to you. he speaks those four words to you every single morning. some may regard it as just a morning custom, but you know that konig never wastes any of his words. those four words every day, reserved only for you.

"good morning, konig," you smile up at him and gently hold his arms as they're wrapped around your waist. your goats bleat a few times, and you and konig share a gentle laugh.

...

life has been peaceful ever since the hell you and konig had gone through. you sent the letter to your parents, telling them the truth about your relationship with konig: how you weren't brainwashed, you didn't like being a princess, and this was the life you chose for yourself. your parents begged you to come back, their handwriting betraying their nerves and worry. but you never wrote to them again.

konig built this cottage for you in no time, and you two built your life together in this small countryside town in France. you helped out at the local bakery most days, tended to your farm animals every morning, checked your garden several times a day. you cooked warm meals for konig, which he always ate gratefully.

konig was no longer an executioner. he decided to leave that part of him in the past for your sake to build a peaceful life with you. the strong, calloused hands that once gripped axes to chop people's heads off now gripped saws and hammers and other tools to build houses, make horse shoes, craft swords. konig never spoke about it, but the gentle look in his eyes that grew as he got accustomed to normal life was something you always noticed and loved.

you two make a modest living; no more silk and fine china, but you couldn't have cared less. living life every day, doing what you wanted, you forgot about the endless want that material possessions creates. for the first time in your life, you are happy. you no longer had to worry about perfectly adjusting your hair, tying your corset, or matching your dress to the occasion each day. your hair changed each day based on your mood, and your clothing was simple and comfortable. no one told you where you had to be or when, you no longer had to watch every word that was spoken. you are free.

...

you hand konig his lunch basket for the day with a sweet smile, packed with fruits and bread and some salted meat. he rubs your head affectionately and kisses your forehead through his hood.

"danke, Engel."

"have a good day," you smiled up at him as you hugged his muscular chest. you gently tap his chin over his hood, and he smiles at your little signal and presses a chaste, gentle kiss on your lips. you watch as he descends the porch and walks to town.

you weren't sure exactly where you and Konig's lives were going to lead, but among your farm animals and garden and cottage and his arms, none of that mattered. the only thing you cared about was living each day with konig, living a normal life. you taught him what it meant to live, to breathe, to create things that made life better rather than take it away.

and even though you are no longer a princess, you will always be his angel.

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful, @dumb-dumb-idiot-girl, @elichisstuff, @konig-breedme, @tr4psta, @cutiecusp, @konigsleftkidney, @local-vampire-s1ut, @ihaveaproblematicbrain, @twice360noscope, @madzeesstuff, @crazy-phan-girl13, @babygirl-panda19, @warrior-of-justice, @eluffi, @mooniesthings, @elowynnlane, @zaxlrza, @red-bed-bug, @alexdoesntlikeyou, @helmipss, @11aplacesange11, @rouge-swears, @pasta-m1lk, @ghostinvenus

[thisdorkyblogthing]

In my frantic reblog fest last week I was suddenly struck by The Inspiration upon seeing this post again. The brain works in mysterious ways. Shout out to @midnottart for providing such gorgeous Brain FuelTM.

~2,400 words. Loki's real real bad at assassinating, thank god he's hot.

-

It was comfortable here, slipping through the shadows. Loki was a shadow. He crept along the edges, quieter than a mouse, tip-toed past sleepy guards. This was easy. Automatic. He'd been training for this for as long as he could stand on his own feet. He stayed quiet and sowed chaos where no one would spot him. It wasn't like the first time he came to the palace, dressed up like some rich asshole and walking through the front doors where he would be seen. He'd gone against his orders and tucked himself along the walls where it felt safest. He'd been instructed to mingle a little -- not too much, just enough to blend in, to look normal -- but he couldn't. He wasn't made to giggle at inane jokes and flirt with those he wished were dead. So he did what he knew best and stuck to the edges, listening and watching, eyeing all the potential entry and exit points, all the small, ignored spots that he could slip into and hide.

He hadn't planned for the king to be the one to spot him.

The artwork littered throughout the kingdom hadn't done the man justice, much to Loki's chagrin. No artist had been able to truly capture the light that shone behind his sky blue eyes, the richness to the golden hue of his skin and hair. They hadn't even attempted to capture his smile with all it's disarming warmth. They had opted for a menacing glower fit for the accomplished warrior that he was.

Loki would tell the others that he had changed his strategy once he'd grabbed the king's attention, seducing him to gain his trust and get entry to the most vulnerable areas of the palace, but the sad, sickening truth of it was that Loki had been the one to get seduced. The anger that had been instilled in him since birth had dissolved into a quivering lump of nothing once the king laid his lust-filled gaze on him. The heavy hand on his waist turning his rigid spine soft, his mind pliable to the suggestions whispered into his ear by a deep, husky voice.

He'd been ravished in ways he'd only entertained on his most lonely nights, pleasured so thoroughly that even as he snuck through the tight, near forgotten corridors of the palace he needed to pause for a moment and fight back the memories of it, his stomach clenching with want.

The shame of it made bile rise up the back of his throat. If anyone knew- he shook away the thought. No one would ever know. He'd do what he was meant to do. He'd kill the king and pave the way for his father to take the throne. And then his life would be his own, finally. That night would be a distant memory.

A pleasant, distant memory.

He found his way to the king's bedroom, taking his time to ensure no one would hear or see a glimpse of him. He'd take his freshly sharpened dagger and slash the king's throat as he slept, escaping just as quietly as he came, and no one would know until the king was long dead. Loki could envision it. The blood pooled around him like a sickening halo, the light dimmed from his pretty eyes. Assuming he would open his eyes at all.

All the doors were large and heavy, the ones that came directly between the king and everyone else even more so. Loki pushed it open slowly, just enough to squeeze through. The king's bedroom was as luxurious as Loki remembered, the heavy, detailed tapestries that lined the walls making the room feel more quiet and cozy than most of the others he'd seen. The fire pit in the center of the room still held glowing embers that dampened the chill from the air that poured through the broad, open archways that lead out to a balcony.

And at the other end of the room was the king. Thor. Naked save for a crumpled sheet wrapped around his waist and sprawled across the massive, soft mattress.

His traitorous mind conjured the memory of being laid down on it, the silkiness of sheets against his skin, how breathless he'd gotten as Thor loomed over him. His throat dried and he tried to shake it from his mind, taking a quick breath to refocus. He wore soft soled shoes to move silently over the tiled floor, making his way across the large room until he was just feet from the bed. He grabbed the handle of his dagger strapped to his thigh, pulling it free from it's sheath.

Another breath and then he climbed carefully onto the bed.

His muscles trembled with each slow movement, heart hammering like a drum in his ears. This was the moment his entire life had been building up to. His purpose for existing. The king was still, his chest rising and lowering in a slow, steady pace. His gloves were damp with sweat, his fingers cold and numb. He carefully straddled the king's hips, fighting back memory of the weight of his hands on Loki's hips.

He clenched his jaw tight and shook his head. Get it done quick and get out.

He leaned forward, pointing the blade at Thor's exposed throat. He studied the king's face, the fine lines and scars etched onto his skin, the dark lashes that fanned out over the delicate skin under his eyes, his coarse, golden beard, and the soft, pink lips peeking out from under it. Loki leaned in further, pressing the tip of the dagger under his chin as his eyes fluttered shut. He let himself come dangerously close, his lips brushing against Thor's. A tiny final indulgence, he told himself.

He lingered, their noses bumping as he thoughtlessly repeated the movement.

He froze as he felt a weight settle on to the back of his neck, lungs clenching as he cautiously opened his eyes to see that the king's face was unchanged. Eyes shut, mouth relaxed, breathing steady.

His mind screamed at him to slash at him and run, but he couldn't move. Thor tossed his other arm around Loki's waist, pulling Loki's body the rest of the way down onto his. Loki's breath left him in a shaky gasp, blood rushing through his head. The king finally opened his eyes, and Loki knew he was done. He'd so utterly failed at his one task in life, and he could only watch and wonder what would happen next.

"You know," Thor's voice rumbled, their lips still nearly touching, "if you want to assassinate someone, you shouldn't waste time kissing them first."

Loki's hand shook so violently that he nicked Thor's chin with the tip of the blade. He seemed unbothered.

"How long?" Loki eked out, unable to string together anything more coherent.

"I heard you open the door," he replied, "I would've figured you'd know I was a light sleeper, but I guess Laufey forgot to mention that."

Loki gasped, shivering in Thor's loose but unyielding hold.

Thor chuckled in a not entirely pleasant way, the arm around his waist leaving so he could pry the dagger free from Loki's clenched fist. He chucked across the room, the metal skittering across the floor.

"H-how long?" Loki whispered, barely able to suck in a full breath.

Thor began to knead the back of Loki's neck gently, his other hand slithering under his shirt to run up his spine, leaving goosebumps in it's wake.

"You have all those sharp features and that same paranoid look about you," he explained, "I knew as soon as I saw you skulking around at the ball."

Loki let his head drop to Thor's firm chest, spitting out a curse.

"You must have a pretty mother, Laufey's face looks much better on you," the king went on, fingers tangling into Loki's hair.

Loki shrugged, his voice wobbling as he replied. "I don't know, she left when I was small."

"Seems about right," Thor sighed, "there can't be much romance with a man that obsessed with power."

A sob broke free from Loki's throat, tears spilling from his tightly shut eyes. "I don't want to die."

"Hush, I'm not going to kill you," Thor said with a chuckle, "that was barely an assassination attempt."

"My father-" Loki rasped.

"Ah, him," Thor said with another sigh, "then it seems you must stay here with me then."

Loki finally lifted his head to look at Thor again. "You're going to imprison me?"

The king's mouth twisted, nose scrunching. "That's a bit of a strong word for it, but I certainly can't just let someone who would conspire against me go back to their fellow conspirators, could I?"

Loki was suddenly on his back, pressed down into the mattress by the weight of the king's body, feeling a tingle deep in his belly at the familiar position. The hand under Loki's neck kept his gaze focused on Thor's face, letting him see the heat rush to his face and color his cheeks.

"I could, perhaps, keep him under my watch, let him stay in my own bed even, especially if he tells me everything he knows about his father's plans."

Loki inhaled sharply, his mind swirling at the king's suggestion. He was dizzy, overwhelmed and exhausted all at once from the stress of the whole night.

Could he live here, with the one he'd always known as the enemy, and so thoroughly betray his father?

Loki clung to Thor's broad shoulders and tried to pull him down, too overwhelmed to even speak.

Thor dipped low, sealing his mouth to Loki's. Loki let out a muffled whimper, clawing at the king's broad, muscular back and clinging desperately to him. The hand pinned under Loki's back snaked around, pushing his shirt up higher, bunching the fabric under Loki's chin. As more of their skin touched the more frantic Loki became, the craving that had simmered within him since their night together bursting out of him with a fiery intensity. He bit down on Thor's lip and dug his nails deeper into Thor's back, his hips grinding down onto Loki in response.

Thor freed himself from the clutches of Loki's sharp teeth and lavished him with that smile that had so thoroughly ruined Loki in the first place. "I'll take that as a yes?"

Loki wanted the layers between them to vanish, huffing as he squirmed under Thor's weight. "Get inside me already," he ordered through clenched teeth, though the words sounded more petulant

Thor laughed, rolling his hips as he dipped his head to plant soft, fluttering kisses along his jaw. "Patience, my eager little magpie, you know I will satisfy you."

Loki whined, writhing hopelessly as Thor took his time running his hand over Loki's body. He slid down to Loki's exposed chest, lips and tongue finding their way to one of Loki's nipples, teasing at the sensitive flesh with the lightest pinch of his teeth. Loki's cock throbbed, a pitiful cry escaping from his throat.

Thor had just moved to the other nipple when the sound of heavy footfalls forced Thor to pull away. Loki's pounding heart leapt to his throat, desire somewhat forgotten as a handful of guards charged into the bedroom.

"Your Majesty," the guard leading the group said, breathless, "we believe someone might have entered the palace." His eyes fell on to Loki, lingering briefly before moving back to Thor.

Thor pushed himself up, hopping down from the bed without bothering to take the sheet along with him or making any effort to cover himself at all.

"You think someone might've snuck in?" he hissed, irritation clear in the expression he wore. He gestured to Loki, still sprawled out with his shirt hiked up his chest, his face hot with arousal and shame as their eyes nervously fell on to him.

"If he'd been more competent you'd be finding my corpse right now," Thor said tersely. The guards all moved at once towards him, sending Loki crawling up the bed while his heart fluttered with terror.

"Stand down, idiots," he barked, "I have him handled."

"My maids have thwarted more assassinations than you fools," Thor went on as he paced along the side of the bed, "you should be the ones scrubbing the floors, but I'm sure you'd manage to screw that up too."

The guards averted their gazes as Thor ranted, while Loki pulled his shirt back into place and drew his knees to his chest, feeling the need to look away from Thor too.

"You're all dismissed from duty, and I'm firing whoever trained you in the morning." Thor huffed, glaring when The guards hadn't made a move in the tense seconds that followed. "I said GO-"

With the clatter of armor and boots, the now-former guards all rushed to leave the bedroom, leaving the door open wide in their wake. Thor stood and watched, waiting until their footfalls became distant before turning back to Loki. He was still wound tight around himself, exhaustion at war with anxiety. Thor's face softened, looking out towards the balcony, the deep blue of night sky tinged lavender at the far-off horizon.

"We still have some time before the sun comes out," Thor said, "let's get some sleep and we can discuss things in the morning."

Part of Loki still burned with need to finish what they had started, but a larger part of him cried out for rest- and he knew for a fact that a few hours of sleep on the king's bed would feel more rejuvenating than a full night on that miserable little cot back home. Loki nodded, and with gentle hands Thor unwound Loki's arms from around his legs. He pulled Loki over to the edge of the bed, guiding him to his feet, and undressed him with a tenderness that once again sent Loki's heart fluttering. His knees trembled as his skin was exposed to the cool air and Thor's piercing gaze.

When he was stripped down to nothing and their eyes met, Thor leveled him with a small, warm smile, his hand coming up to clasp the back of Loki's neck. The heat and roughness of his palm made Loki's spine quiver with pleasure. A whine rose from his throat, eyelashes fluttering as arousal once more surged through him.

Thor chuckled, "isn't this more fun than stabbing me?"

[buckiverse]

Sweet Surprises

inspired by eternal attachment :3

contents: fluff, suggestive if you squint, angst if you squint. friends-to-lovers vibe. confession *heart eyes*. 

summary: you tried to surprise zayne for his birthday but it failed. 

word count: 1.4k

notes: I havent written in so long, forgive any typos

______________________________________________________________

★It was the day before Zayne’s birthday, and your procrastination caught up to you as you stared at various ingredients. “Vanilla…chocolate…strawberry… maybe I bought too many base flavors,” you muttered. You sorted through the assortment of toppings—macaroons, blueberries, even edible flowers. Who knew you could flavor a cake with flowers? 

★You and Zayne had often talked about his love for sweets, but nothing compared to the day you both stood before the macaroon display at your favorite cafe. 

“What flavor are you gonna get, Zayne?” you asked, already eyeing a few of your favorites. 

He grinned slightly, “what if we get them all?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Get them all? And put them where??”

“In my fridge, of course,” he replied as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

“Even so, we can’t finish all these by ourselves. How about we pick a few.” 

Zayne leaned closer, his voice softening, “Each macaroon not only tastes good but tells its own little story. Let’s try them all, hmm?”

★You smiled at the memory, whispering, “He’s so cute,” but your smile faded as you remembered the decision ahead. Zayne’s tastes in desserts made choosing the right one for his birthday even harder. And time was running out—this was supposed to be a surprise. 

★Another critical mention: you are a terrible baker. Between your hectic schedule as a hunter and lack of practice, you barely had time to eat properly, let alone learn how to bake. You glanced at the cookbook, the pages worn from your frantic flipping. Then it struck you—why not combine two things he loves? A macaroon cake! A… “cakaroon,” you mused.

★You decided on a chocolate base, grabbing flour, eggs, sugar, and cocoa powder. You mixed them, clumsily splashing batter onto Zayne’s counters. As you worked, one of your favorite songs began to play, and you softly sang along, your mind drifting back to memories with Zayne. 

★It all started when you were kids playing together. Zayne was always the quiet, stoic type, making teasing him all the more fun. As you both grew older, life pulled you in different directions. You moved to another part of Linkon with your granny; years had passed without seeing him before you knew it. One day, you landed a job at the Hunters Association, which came with a new health plan and a new doctor. You still remember the shock when you realized your new primary care physician was Zayne. At first, you thought it was a coincidence—after all, Zayne isn’t an uncommon name. But then, he walked in, the same Zayne you’d known since childhood, standing before you—a man now. 

★The truth is, you always liked Zayne. But you never quite knew how to communicate that. Maybe this cake could be a way of saying, “Happy birthday—by the way, I like you.” 

★You finished mixing the batter and poured it into two cake pans. “Mmh,” you nodded as you slid them into the oven. “Things are going good. I hope he likes this,” you thought, allowing yourself a moment of hope. 

★You sat on a stool by the kitchen island, glancing at the clock and humming to music. Suddenly, you heard the click of the front door. “Shit!” You thought, leaping out of your seat so fast you nearly slipped. During your panic, Zayne walked into the room. 

“y/n?” he called, his voice laced with confusion. He approached, reaching for your arm. 

You turned, face flushing. “Hey…” you said, trying to keep calm as you stood up slowly. 

“Why are you here?” Zayne asked, his brows furrowed. 

“I—I was going to surprise you,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“But it seems you got off work sooner than I thought….” 

Zayne looked at you, his gaze softening. But that didn’t stop you from talking. “I—I planned to surprise you, you know. Your birthday is so soon, and I know you love sweets. So I bought all these ingredients, lost track of time because I couldn’t decide what to do, and then looked up. You got home sooner than I thought, but I wanted the cake ready when you got here because this is supposed to be a surprise.” You stumbled over your words, going on and on about your plans for his birthday. 

Your cheeks heated up when you realized Zayne was smiling at you—that half-smile he always did when amused. 

A playful glint struck his eyes, “Should I leave and come back in an hour to give you more time to finish?” 

His teasing made your face even hotter, and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “No, no! I—well, I just wanted it to be perfect, that’s all,” you mumbled, looking down.

Zayne flashed that half-smile and stepped closer, gently lifting his hand to touch your cheek. “I don’t dislike it.”

The alarm for the forgotten cakes went off, breaking the tension between you two. You quickly turned and rushed to the oven, pulling the cakes out before they burned.

“Why don’t we finish the cake together?” Zayne suggested, his voice still light with amusement.

You placed the cakes on the counter, almost burning yourself as the hot pans grazed your fingertips. Zayne leaned over to inspect them, a teasing grin on his lips. “These are quite lopsided,” he remarked.

You blushed profusely, realizing you didn’t level out the batter earlier. Still feeling a little embarrassed, you watched Zayne walk over to his cabinets, pulling out a small container of toothpicks. 

He took one out and handed it to you. “Try this. Stick it in the center. If it comes out clean, they’re done.” 

You took the toothpick and gently pushed it into the cake. Relief washed over you as it came out completely clean. “Looks like it’s ready.”, you said, glancing up at Zayne’s emerald eyes. 

He carefully lifted the pans and placed them on the stove burners to cool. “What flavor were you thinking for the icing?” he asked, his tone more curious now. 

“I was planning on a raspberry filing,” you replied, your voice softening. “Like the macaroons we got a couple of weeks ago.” 

Zayne’s eyes lit up at the memory. “Indeed, that’s an excellent choice.” 

The two of you worked side by side, mixing fresh raspberries, chocolate shavings, and cream. The icing filled the kitchen with a sweet and tangy scent. As you stirred the ingredients together, a thought crossed your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice it.

“Do you ever get lonely?” you asked, your tone more vulnerable than intended. 

Zayne paused, his brows furrowed slightly as he considered the question, “Why do you ask?” 

You hesitated, then continued, “I was just thinking…  You’re working the day before your birthday. Doesn’t that get lonely? You spend so much time helping others, but who’s there for you?” 

He sighed softly, his gaze dropping to the mixing bowl. “I love my work. It’s fulfilling to perform surgeries and make a difference. But, yes, I suppose there are moments when I feel alone. What about you?” 

You stared at the swirling mixture, the vibrant red of the raspberries reminding you of the warmth that had once filled your life. “Sometimes, I’m too busy hunting wanderers to notice how I feel. I often convince myself I’m okay because I don’t have time to think otherwise. But lately, especially since Granny and Caleb passed—it’s been harder. Their absence is always there, even if I try not to feel it. “

Zayne’s hand reached out, gently covering yours. The touch was soft, but it broke through the fog of your thoughts. You looked up to find his eyes filled with sincerity, a quiet understanding that words couldn’t convey. 

“I’m here for you,” he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. 

The loneliness that weighed so heavily on you seemed to lift for a moment. You moved your hand to hold Zayne’s fully, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. In that shared silence, you knew you weren’t alone. 

Zayne gazed deeply into your eyes, wanting to see the soul that lay beneath. Tranquility filled the room, and the gentle strings of music were the only sound that broke the silence. 

Zayne leaned in closer, your lips almost touching; the tension between you was palpable. 

You lifted yourself, balancing on your tiptoes. Gently, you kissed Zayne's lips, feeling your heart skip a beat as your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, yet it carried an intensity that spoke of the emotions brewing deep within you. Your heart raced as he held you close, your veins pulsating beneath your skin. 

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his emerald eyes never leaving yours.

______________________________________________________________

what did ya'll think :333

planning on writing a pt 2 maybe

ignore that I did not finish coding the stars LMAO

[jawspinner96]

Arthur morgan x fem reader smut

This is very lazily written, I was struck with inspiration and wrote this in one night, so no nitpicking!!! Pls ignore any typos or sentences that sound a little off. This is also my first time posing smut so !!!

*******

You had an easy job, it wasn't fun but the money was pretty good. All you had to do was offer "Deluxe baths" to strangers. It wasn't the career you drempt of as a child, but a couple months ago you were desperate for work and the hotel owner was nice enough to give you this job, not only is it good pay but you also got a free room out of it.

You've encountered your fair share of creeps during your time here, but the hotel owner proved to be good backup.

"Just hollar if you need my help ma'am,"

And he was always there to save you if need be. However, it wasn't often people accepted so a lot of your job was spent lazing about or cleaning.

This day was like any other, business was slow and you were sat in the lobby of the hotel, reading. The door swung open and the bell rung out which caught your attention. You looked up from your book and fixed your eyes on a tall, rugged man, around six foot-ish. His features were hidden behind a weathered had and short untidy beard.

"Ma'am." The man nodded your way and walked up to the front desk.

"Sir." You nodded back and Continued reading, peaking over the pages to look at the man's figure from behind. His unbuttoned shirt paired with a leather vest accentuated his waist and drew your eyes to his large arms. You felt your face grow warmer the longer you stared.

"Let me get a bath, and a room for the night." His voice was deep and husky, yet it flowed smoothly and sounded like music to your ears.

"Alright sir, I've got someone heating the bath up for you right now. That'll be a dollar fifty"

You watched the man make his way upstairs towards the bathroom before closing your book and heading to your own room to prepare. You applied lipstick, cleaned up your eyeliner and sorted your hair.

"Want some company mister ?" You knocked lightly on the door and waited for his response. You weren't expecting him to accept your proposal so you were shocked to hear him accept. You became rather nervous and unsure as to why you were suddenly so scared. You had done this many times before but something about this man was intimidating.

Slowly, you opened the door and made your way in. A faint smell of lavender filled the humid room and hot steam, highlighted by the rays of sun peeking through the foggy window, danced freely throughout the air.

He had his arms resting on each side of the tub, and his eyes closed, which made you feel slightly more at ease. You sat on a stool next to the bath, by his head and began to talk.

"You look like you've had a long day," you purposely kept your voice hushed and soft.

"You have no idea." He smiled contently as you wet your hands and began to scrub his scalp tenderly.

"Well... nothin a hot bath can't fix." His hair was rough in your palms and you could feel the weeks of dirt clinging to each strand. Despite this, the man didn't smell at all, Infact a rather pleasant, musky aroma emitted from his body.

You began to let your hands wander, settling on his shoulders. You palmed his skin attempting to soothe the spots you thought might be most sore. He leaned his head back, letting out a long, pleased sigh. You could feel him becoming less tense from your touch and smiled a little to yourself, proud of your work.

"Damn, that feels good," He muttered under his breath as you began to massage his arms. You marvled at the feeling of his large biceps under your fingers. "I don't remember the last time I was this relaxed."

"If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you do out there?"

He opened and eye and looked right at you. For a moment you were nervous, did you ask something offensive? However, you were far too flustered by his heavy eye contact to care.

"That's something I prefer to keep to myself ma'am." You apologised and Continued to wash the stranger.

Sweat trickled down your forehead as you reached further into the water to scrub his abdomen, then his legs. You looked up from the water for a second, you almost had a heart attack as your eyes met with his. He watched intently, as you massaged his calves and rinsed the bubbles from his leg. Both of your faces were flushed from the heat, and the tension that filled the air.

"I reckon that's clean enough ma'am," He lightly grabbed your hand and held it in between his own, "Thank you very much."

His eyes stared right through your own and you felt your cheeks burning up, though you couldnt really read his expression.

"You're very welcome Mr...."

"Morgan, Arthur morgan."

You beamed a smile "Well, you're very welcome Mr Morgan."

Swiftly, you exited the room with your heart thumping in your chest and butterflies swirling in your stomach.

As you headed back to your room you couldn't shake the image of his face from your mind. His tired, squinting eyes, soft lips. His brows were bushy and unkempt along with his beard, however the scruffy and tired appearance only added to his charm. You weren't sure you'd ever seen someone so handsome before. His nose was crooked but fit so harmoniously on his face along with all his other features.

You recalled what his skin felt like against yours as you sat on your window sil and day dreamed of his muscular frame and chestnut hair.

*******

"Can I interest you in some tea?" Another part of your job was to ensure the happiness of paying customers and to provide the best service you could.

This meant going round and offering tea to those who were staying the night, sometimes you provided them with dinner if you were feeling generous enough to cook a big batch of food that day.

"Sure, come in." Instantly, you recognised the voice coming from the other side of the door. You heart picked up it's pace as you fumbled with the door knob, all while keeping an eye on your tray of tea.

You entered the room to see Arthur sat on the bed, the setting sun resting perfectly on his face. His hat from before was no where to be seen allowing you to see all his features. Messy strands of hair lay perfectly on his face, framing his eyes and Chisled jaw. You couldn't help but admire the sight, a slight blush forming on your cheeks.

"Here ya'are Mr Morgan," You placed a cup of tea on the side table and put the now empty tray under your arm.

"Call me Arthur." He smiled at you as he took a sip of the hot beverage, "I was hopin I'd see you again ma'am."

"Is that right?" A smirk creeped upon your face and you felt those Butterflies from before beginning to awake in your stomach. You playfully responded, "Well i'm glad you enjoyed My services so much Mr Mo- Arthur."

A laugh escaped his nose and he looked down to take another sip of tea.

"Well, I'll be on my way now. Hollar at me if you need anythin'." Nervously, You turned on your heel and made your way to the door before Arthur spoke up again.

"Wait," you stopped in your tracks and turned to face Arthur who was now making his way towards you. The speed of your heart rate picked you thought it'd jump out of your chest and ran away if it could.

Arthur stopped, just meer centimetres away. He towered over you causing a confusing mixture of emotions, your head was spinning.

His eyes scanned your face, your quivering lips and eyes, which darted frantically around the room, avoiding any sort of eye contact. You swallowed as his eyes wandered to your lips. His mouth parted slightly and his breath grew heavier before he began to speak again.

"Am i scaring you, miss?" His voice seemed sweet, filled with concern though you couldn't help but notice sinister undertone in the way he spoke.

You plucked up the courage to look him in his eye before responding, "No.."

You were unsure of your own answer amd he could tell. He smiled slightly at that, hesitantly rasing a hand to your chin, "Would you mind if I.."

His lips parted further as they searched for your own, your eyes fluttering shut as you both made contact. His free hand snaked around your waist as you reached up around his neck, causing you to drop the tea tray on the floor.

He pulled away for a second, gazing into your eyes as his hand held the side of your cheek. Your heart pounded, and you longed to kiss him again. How was this stranger making you feel this way?

You brought him back in for another kiss, this time you were hungry for it and he was too. You moved together rhythmically and passionately. Your bodies backed up aggressively against the bedroom door, slamming it shut.

A gasp left your mouth, as he removed your hands from his neck and pinned them both at either side of your head against the door. The sudden movement made you knees grow weeker and you felt yourself buckling underneath him.

He was strong, you couldn't escape his grip if you tried, not that you wanted to. He raised both your arms above your head and held your wrists in place with one hand.

His free hand began to explore your body, cupping a breast through your blouse. You could feel the smirk on his lips as a slight moan left your mouth.

His hand travelled further down, to your skirt, and he began to lift up the fabric to reach your thigh from underneath.

You could already feel yourself becoming increasingly wetter, and the sensation of his rough palms groping your skin made you only more aroused. His fingers moved further up to your panties and he began to tease your clit through your soaked underwear, forcing a pathetic whine from your lips.

"Damn girl," He laughed a husky laugh mockingly "I've bearly touched you."

Your cunt ached as you squeezed your legs together while he continued to play with your clit, using his thumb to rub painfully slow circles around it.

"F-fuck..." You found yourself unable to say anything in response only growing weaker to his touch.

His fingers hooked against your underwear and slowly he began to pull them down your legs, while he brought your mouth to his for another kiss, his tongue intertwining with yours.

His hand palmed your pussy while the other continued to hold you in place. You squirmed as he slid two fingers into your cunt and began to slowly pump them in and out of you.

Lewd noises filled the room as he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers. Eventually, he let go of your wrists, causing you to collapse against his chest while he continued to play with your cunt. He rested his free hand On the small of your back, keeping you close to him.

You moans grew louder as you found yourself closer to climax. He stopped moving abruptly, which made you cry out a little. He chuckled slightly as you began to grind against his fingers, desperately needing to cum.

"Easy girl..." You buried your head in his chest as he once again began to move his fingers in that same rhythm that had brought you so close to orgasm before.

You eyes rolled back and you squeezed your hands into fists against his body, unsure of what to do with yourself as he continued to pump in and out of you mercilessly.

Eventually the coil in your stomach snapped and you found yourself spasming around his fingers. Your legs shook as you came into the palm of his hand, your vision went white and all comprehansive thoughts in your head had vanished. You moaned his name, loudly, sqeezing your eyes shut as he guided you through your orgasm. He removed his hand from under you skirt and let go of you, causing you you to collapse on the ground.

"Damn, your pathetic," He laughed at your feeble position and you had never felt so vulnerable, humiliated or turned on. "Don't worry girl, we ain't finished."

You panted on the floor as he stood over you. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Arthur had seemed so sweet before, but now it seemed he was getting off on your neediness.

You looked up and watched as he began to unzip his pants and pull out his cock. The size made you a little nervous but you could already feel yourself getting wetter by the second. You rose on your knees and looked up at Arthur. With both hands you grabbed the base of his dick and parted your lips. Your tongue swirled around the tip and you could already taste the precum dripping from him.

"Atta girl," arthur praised your eagerness as you began to move your hands rhythmically up and down his shaft, your tongue focusing on the most sensitive areas.

A satisfied groan left Arthur's mouth as you took him deeper into your mouth. You could feel the veins that ran along his length as your tongue glided along his skin.

You looked up at his face, watching it contort in pleasure. You watched as his mouth hung open, heavy breaths and cuss words escaping from his lips. His brows furrowed when he grew impatient and his hands found their way to the back of your head, gripping strands of hair and shoving his cock deeper down your throat, making you gag.

Quickly, and uncaring of how you felt, Arthur continued to use your throat as a his personal fuck toy. His dick twitched as you choked on his size and struggled to cope with his harsh thrusts.

"Fuck.." Arthur let a low growl as thrusted himself deeply in your mouth one last time. Thick spurts of semen dripped down your throat and from the corners of your mouth. He removed his cock from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. With one hand he wiped the cum from your lips and with the other he pulled back you head, forcing you to look at him. "How'd that taste girl?"

You found yourself unable to respond, you weren't to sure what you were even supposed to say. Arthur zipped up his trousers and crouched to your level, taking your chin in-between his index and thumb. You marvled at his reddend cheeks and the sweat that glistend on his forehead, unable to think clearly.

Your lips remained parted as you stared at him. Your cunt ached for him, begging to be filled.

"You look so desperate," he teased. You swallowed your shame and averted your gaze from his.

You could feel yourself becoming wetter just from his words and began leaning in closer, a desperate attempt to beg for more all while your lips were sealed.

"Guess that's too bad," He let go of you abruptly and stood up leading you to awkwardly do the same.

"W-wait.." all you could muster up was a weak stutter. You were honestly offended but weren't sure if you could be. You didnt know this man and he didnt know you. Something that should be intimate wasn't intimate at all. Sure, you'd given him a bath but that was paid for and professional. This? This was no where near the same thing. "I-is that it?"

Arthur laughed. "What? You ain't had enough yet?"

The disappointment was more that noticable on your face. Arthur didn't say anything else, just laughed. He leaned close and reached behind you, opening the door to the hallway.

"Sorry girl, don't wanna overstay your welcome."

And as quickly as you entered, you had been shooed out. Without your tea tray. Your mind was running and you couldn't think, all you could do was make your way back to your room in a daze.

Your hair was a mess and your skin was reddened; still glistening with sweat. you lay on your bed, frustrated. Why didn't you go back and demand him to get the fuck out? Or at least ask for your tray back? Why did you even let him use your body like that in the first place?

Shame washed over you, you were unable to sleep that night. You couldn't help but wonder if he had gone all the way with you, you wouldn't be as pissed off as you were. A small part of you wanted to see him again.

[reycherie]

Inspired by the song, "He's my man" by luvcat.

"Late September in the city

The sky is gray, the air is sticky"

In a cloudy afternoon in 1933, New Orleans, Louisiana. You were sitting on a soft, maroon couch in your living room near the window of your house, listening to the voice of your husband on the radio while you were finishing the book you're reading. This was quite a normal day of missing your husband—Alastor Hartfelt, since he hasn't come back home from his radio show host work yet.

Sighing as you finish reading the last words on the book. You've finished yet another book for this month, and struck with boredom, you thought of how your husband should have stayed home forever—well.. Nevermind that—you decide to focus on your husband's lovely voice as he updates you about the weather this afternoon.

You did notice the foul weather for this afternoon while you were reading your book. You worry about your husband's safe return to work; what if he comes home all wet? His brunette, curly hair, flat and drenched from the rain. Oh, he looked beautiful just thinking about it..

But…

What if he encounters an accident on the way? Such as a car suddenly crashing on him.. You groaned, trying to stop such unpleasant thoughts from coming from your mind.

He makes a joke about the weather, making you grin and chuckle, distracting you from such depressing thoughts. Such a charming man.. If ever a woman decides to steal your man, you don't think you handle it well.

If they tried to get a bit closer to him, you wouldn't be able to contain yourself, and maybe—just maybe—tip over some arsenic on their tea.. Anyway, you're sure that won't happen any time soon!

"I keep falling in and out of sleep

Lettin' the sun scorch the grass"

You didn't realize that you ended up sleeping as you woke up to your husband giving out his goodbyes on the radio, rubbing your eyes as you realized he's about to come back home.

You jumped from your seat; he's about to come home—and you haven't cooked dinner yet! Yes, Alastor likes to cook; you know that. He likes to cook for the both of you, but you just can't erase the teachings and pride of being the woman of the household.

So you ran to the kitchen and did your best to cook the fastest yet most appetizing dinner you could think of before your husband comes home.

With a bit of trial and error while you were cooking, you finished everything exactly just when your husband arrived through the door. With a bright smile and glistening eyes, you greeted your husband, "Oh, Alastor! Just in time, I just finished cooking dinner."

He greeted you with a kiss on your hand, “Ah, so that's where the lovely smell was coming from!"

You chuckled and gestured for him to follow, "Come, dear, let's eat."

"The flies are knockin' on the glass

But they're the only other friends I have, you see"

You notice every detail of your husband's habits; the way he hums a tune whenever he’s interested. Or how he always crosses his legs every time he sits down.

Of course you didn't miss out on his… interesting meal palate and nightly hobbies. But well, that doesn't matter! In your eyes, your husband is amazing and perfect just as he is.

You suddenly remember when you noticed how your friends talked more about your husband than theirs; it was quite a displeasure…

“Reader, you’re such a lucky girl for marrying such a dream boat!” That comment ticked you off.

Why are they giggling and blushing about YOUR husband? At that moment, you felt an urge to just stab them on the throat with a knife, just like gossipers should get—but oh well, if you killed them right then and there, you would've been the biggest suspect. You wouldn't want to ruin the perfect life you built with your husband, after all.

"I need him so much that it hurt

I wish he didn't have to go to work

And i just lie and watch the ceiling fan turn"

As you and your husband finish your day, you couldn't help but release a sigh contained within you, catching Alastor’s attention.

He sat next to you on the satin bed in your bedroom. "My dear, what has caught you in such tension?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's nothing that you need to worry about, darling" you said, trying to smile sweetly at him.

"Are you sure about that? You know that you can share your thoughts with me," he consoled you.

Oh, how can you tell him that you didn't want him to go to work tomorrow? How badly you wanted him to resign, but.. You knew that he dearly loved his work, so much that it sometimes scares you that he loved his work so much more than you. What if he decided to leave you because of his work? What if he decides to get rid of you? What if-

What useless thoughts!

Of course you knew that wouldn't happen; you're just overthinking things.

"Hes my man, we're hand in hand

To hell and back

And I'll love him like nobody else can"

You woke up to a sound of a thud outside your room. "Alastor?" you called out.

You glanced at the window, the sky was dark, the sun hasn't risen yet. You decided to check things out and walked out of your room, investigating your house. The house was silent; all you could hear was your footsteps. Tip, Tap, Tip-

The lights were open in the kitchen. You chose to walk into the area, and oh, were you in for a shock!

A distinct, metallic smell was coming through the kitchen; you were familiar with that smell. Sometimes seeing him commit his odd activities sends a shiver up to your spine, and this was one of those moments. You saw your husband bloody and with a knife chopping a limb on your kitchen counter.

"Darling?..." you slowly walked beside him, occasionally glancing at the.. distasteful sight on the counter.

"Oh my love! The knife falling from earlier must have woken you up; I apologize." Alastor smiled at you in a creepy way, not that you weren't already used to it now.

"It's fine, dear, how was your.. hunt tonight?" you slowly asked him before leaning at the kitchen counter.

"It was quite a groove!" he talked while continuing his work, "Though this guy was putting up quite a fight! But no matter, it made the hunt far more enjoyable."

"Were you hurt anywhere?" Your eyes scanned his body from head to toe; there were no injuries.

"Your concern is for nothing, my love; this one was quite easy," he chuckled, still busy chopping.

"Well.. that's great," you couldn't help but let out a yawn before continuing. "I'm quite tired; I'll go first, darling.. Goodnight," you told him before carefully placing a kiss on his cheeks.

He hummed with approval and replied with a goodnight back.

The sight bothers you at times, yes, but you still loved him, no matter what he does—honestly, you think you would be able to accept anything he does. Besides, it's not like you don't see that sight almost every day.

"He's my man, I've been damned

No, nobody has to understand

Me and my man"

Ever since you saw Alastor, you knew he was the one for you and that the both of you were fated—soulmates even. You carefully memorized and observed him even before your marriage, just like how his smile would slightly falter whenever he got upset or how he dislikes the idea of being touched by others, and many more that you've observed.

And of course, you noticed your tendencies towards getting obsessive. You would be envious of the idea of other women talking to Alastor, sometimes overthinking if your husband would leave you for another woman or if he would leave you owing to the fact that he fell out of love.. If really did he abandoned you, you think you would snap.

Occasionally, you would wonder if other people felt this much love for their significant others.. You wondered if they could understand how you felt whenever someone tried to take your husband's attention from you. Nonetheless, you just push these thoughts away; no one has to understand.

"I stay home and make his dinner

Even though somehow he keeps gettin' thinner

I wait, watchin' the washing machine spin 'round and 'round again"

Your married life with Alastor was quite peaceful. On Mondays you would buy groceries, on Wednesdays you would have a scheduled tea party with your friends, and on Sundays you would go to church.

On days where you don't have anything scheduled. You would carry out your household duties; such as cleaning the house, and occasionally, you would cook either dinner or pastries. And since you don't have a child to take care of, you would read books or newspapers to pass the time.

"I need him so much that it hurt

I wish he didn't have to go to work

He keeps complainin that his vision's blurred"

Another day, another isolation. Today was a Friday, and your husband has just gone to work. You let out a sigh as you tried to focus reading your book, but you just couldn't.

Finally having enough, you slammed it down on a table before you got up and walked to your kitchen. Thinking that maybe caffeine would help.

You remembered how lately Alastor has been complaining how his glasses were out of date. You two could possibly swing by the optometrists at some later date, so you decided to have this thought aside for now.

"He's my man, we're hand in hand

To hell and back

And I'll love him like nobody else can"

You reminisced about the day of your wedding; that day was the most wonderful day in your entire life—that time was when your dreams were achieved and your goals reached. You wore a pearly white dress with the veil reaching the floor. Alastor looked to die for! His slicked back hair, his black suit, his eyes, his smile, his- ahem.

That day made you reflect on all efforts you made to protect him from suitors and to finally get him to fall for you. When you walked down the aisle, you just couldn't help but shed a tear.

You didn't like people gawking at your husband, and your husband didn't like people staring at him. So you and Alastor decided to marry near a lake with only the both of you and the pastor to officiate the wedding.

The thought of other women setting boundaries from your husband was delightful—well, that was until your friends got TOO comfortable and always gossiped about him in front of you.

"He's my man, I've been damned

No, nobody has to understand

Me and my man"

You did murder some people; most of them were women who tried to court him. Just like when that one woman who tried to flirt with your Alastor before ending up dead by slicing her tongue and stabbing her heart and eyes.

Another tried to get too close with him, so you did your natural routine: stab her in the eyes and slice the throat, then stab her heart.

You got away with those crimes multiple times by burying them in the forests; you made sure that there was little to no evidence. And surely one day, that was when you saw Alastor.

At that time he was viciously stabbing a man, very morbid, unlike your style.. but you still love him, of course! Anyway, at that point you were honestly a bit scared, leading you to try and sneak out of the vicinity.

Everything was so going well until a damned leaf crunched so loudly that your Alastor heard it!

At that time, your hands were covered in blood, and some of your clothes had been stained with blood; it was obvious that you murdered someone.

You and him stared at each other for a long time, and you had the thoughts of, 'Is this it? Will I die from his hands? How will he accept me now?' It didn't seem too bad for you, but you two weren't even official partners at that time! So you felt a bit reluctant to end your life.

In the end, he let you go. You think that Alastor only let you walk away freely at that moment because of the reason being both of you murdering someone and you being a woman, though you're still not sure of the purpose.

"He keeps havin' feverish dreams

That he can never, ever leave

He wakes, head aches, funny taste to his tea"

1933, the year your dearest beloved left the world. This left you in shambles; you felt broken and alone. Everything felt useless.

You never went out anymore, nor did you care for yourself; you never took care of the house he loved and cared for so much.

The loneliness haunts you; you've been seeing your husband's shadow all over the house. Sometimes you think that maybe this was a cruel joke on you, a cruel play of fates. Oh, Alastor, why did you have to leave me? So early too.

It's been 3 days since he died. The police reported that he was shot in the head while hunting and that he was mistaken for a deer—of all things!

"Oh, for god's sake, why?" you mumbled. Your hair was a mess, cheeks red as tomatoes, eyes puffy as ever, and your nose runny. You were in complete desolation.

This was worse than him abandoning you; at least abandoning you means that he's still alive.

He was supposed to live with you until the both of you were old and die together! He wasn't supposed to leave so early…

"I want him to stay here forever

He's happiest with me

'Cause he"

.

.

You barely ate, barely slept, barely living. Haunted by his voice and shadows.

You locked yourself in that very home he loved—the only things that he left for you—and caged yourself like a bird with clipped wings.

You tried playing the piano for him, but you failed. It didn’t sound right, it wasn’t good enough. You tried reading to pass time, but you just couldn't. After all, those books were just full of romance. You tried listening to the radio, but all you could think was him, your darling Alastor. My one and only.

His death made you remember the days you two would go on dates, the days where you two would dance and enjoy music from the radio, the days where you just sat down and watched Alastor cook.

The peaceful days.

As the world caves in to you, you are plagued by silence and darkness. No one to comfort you, no one to smile at you and remind you how important it is to maintain one; in the end, there was only one way to silence everything: killing yourself.

"He's my man

And I'll love him like nobody else can

He's my man, he's gone quite mad

No, nobody has to understand

Me and my man"

The wind swayed your hair and dress. Everything had no meaning without him. Your body reluctantly pushed itself off the ledge. The fall felt somewhat peaceful; life flashing before your eyes, memories flooding in, both good and bad.

Crack.

The horrible fall made your back hurt like hell.

Your body was aching everywhere; blood plagued your back and head. Your vision was oddly more clearer and better than last time, and you felt that your hearing senses had been reduced; everything was ringing. And for some reason, you could feel? Strange vibrations from everywhere! Additionally, your mouth feels a bit weird…

You slowly sat up and noticed that you landed on a roof. Then the dawning realization hits you when you look around, oh, and surprise surprise—you ended up in hell.

You didn't know what to do; though you knew what this meant, the pastors never explained what would happen if hell looked like this!

Your eyesight had definitely gotten better; you could see perfectly. You noticed that the streets were bloody, people screaming in horror and agony, maniacal and sadistic laughter everywhere, and the houses here looked more chaotic; everything was uneven, everything was so red!

But for gods sake, you were a stay-at-home wife! What are you supposed to do now? However, this certainly made you realize how you now have the ability to find your husband, and oh, will you definitely find him no matter what.

[spreadwardiard]

The Rot (part 2)

Dazed and confused, Orion pax comes online surrounded by rubble. Luckily, he isn't alone. However, that does not mean he's safe.

Part 2 of my 'inspired by MLP infection' AU! I hope y'all enjoy it! Again, big thanks to @lets-try-some-writing for all the help and encouragement!

Part 1 here

The hot, yet soothing tingle of his self-repair system’s nanites tending to the aching wounds of his frame was what finally brought Orion’s processor back online. His awareness floated slowly in and out, only able to sense the slowly ebbing pain signals from his damaged frame. His helm throbbed aggressively if he so much as even attempted a thought. It was reassuring, however, that each time Orion’s awareness floated back to him, he ached a little less and that his thoughts were able to come more freely. 

Where was he? Even without his full processing power, he knew that he was not in the safety of his berth. Accessing his memories did little to answer that question. He recalled Megatronus contacting him about a train, and he could remember that he had indeed left his hab, but beyond that, his memories were still too damaged to retrieve. The only option available was to allow himself to float away once more and allow the nanites time to continue their repair.

When he next came to awareness, it lacked the gentle ebb and flow of before. Rapid flashes of his most recent memories assaulted him in waves: coming online to an unexpected call, Megatronus’ unexpected declaration of affection, his walk to the station, boarding the train… 

His processor throbbed as if it would burst while the emotions tied to his memories crashed into effect: confusion, worry and then fear. Orion’s optics shuttered online just as the panic hit him. He sat rapidly, causing his helm to spin and his optical input to become distorted. 

“Shield your field!” The command was hissed at him with quiet urgency, and Orion clamped down on instinct. He brought his servo to his helm and groaned softly as he rubbed at his closed optics with his palm in a desperate attempt to placate the pain in his processor. 

“What happened?” Orion croaked out softly. Behind him came the soft shuffling of small pedes, and before Orion could even process what that meant, his companion was at his side.

“There’s no time to explain, Can you walk? It isn’t safe here.” Orion reset his optics, and slowly opened them once more, relieved that his inputs were no longer spinning. He was surrounded by broken glass and crumpled sheets of metal, dangerously sharp. Strips of soft mesh cabling dangled from above him, some slowly dripping fluids that he couldn’t identify. 

Orion’s optics finally found his companion. He ex-vented in relief as he was struck with recognition. Ravage observed him with a raised optical ridge, and the look on his face gave Orion the impression that the cassette hadn’t expected him to come online as suddenly as he had. 

“I think so?” Orion whispered through his grimace as he felt the stiffness in his hydraulics as he shifted his weight, to maneuver onto his knees. A flurry of diagnostic pings assaulted his HUD, alerting him to several injuries that were, luckily, non-critical. 

“Good. We need to leave. Now.” It was a command, and one Orion thought almost sounded laced with fear. Ravage darted forward, his cyber-feline frame having no issue ducking beneath what appeared to be the mangled remains of a bench that had been partially ripped from the walls in the crash. 

It wasn’t especially difficult to maneuver his frame through the small space, but it did ache like the Pits to crawl his way through what was left of the compartment. He was dangerously low on fuel, that much was obvious by how exhausting it was to hold his frame and move at such an angle. 

That also explains why my nanites did not complete my self repair. Orion thought as he dragged himself forward through the jagged remains. By the time his helm popped through a crushed window, he was venting heavily, and his arms shook with the strain of holding up his weight.

“Hurry. We don’t have much time.” Ravage paced nervously outside the wreckage, his optics constantly scanning around them. Orion begrudgingly hauled himself free from the shattered window and grimaced as he stood, taking only a klik to allow his optics to adjust to the increased light before following the cyber-feline between two hunks of deformed metal. 

Orion almost couldn’t believe the utter devastation around him. Smashed bits of transport compartments lie crumpled as far as he could see. Mutilated remains of Cybertronians were scattered haphazardly about, some obviously crushed by impact alone, while others looked…. Gnawed at, as if something had consumed them. 

He’d never seen anything like it before, not even on his long deep-dives into the darkest reaches of the data-net. Orion’s tanks churned, hot and sickly sweet, at the thought of what could have done damage like that. Some of those bodies were completely eviscerated… 

Orion focused his optics on Ravage, not wanting to see any more of the surrounding carnage than he had to. This was beyond wrong.  His internal chronometer told him that he had been offline for several cycles, which should have been plenty of time for rescue crews to have saved not only him, but everyone else strewn around. Surely, the Transport Commission would have sent a crew to clean the debris off the tracks. 

It seemed that he and Ravage were the only two living mechs around. But if that were the case, what had Ravage so anxious? It was painfully obvious as Ravage led him through the debris field, zigzagging to stay in the shadows of the rubble, that he was trying to avoid them being seen, but from whom, Orion couldn’t begin to guess. 

It seemed like the rubble stretched forever. The closer they came to the front of the train, the worse everything seemed to be.  Train compartments were smashed against and piled atop each other in such a disordered way that it almost could have been beautiful. If only the place wasn’t littered with corpses and plastered with splattered energon.

“Hey!” A panicked voice called out to the pair, causing Ravage to startle and Orion’s helm to whip towards the source of the sound. A young mech, pinned at the waist beneath a large scrap of steel, waved frantically at them. “Oh! Thank Primus, you’re not one’a them…” He could see the fear that emanated from his optics and the stains of dried optical lubricants painted down his face. 

Orion thought nothing of it. His internal processes immediately flooded him with coding to provide aid. He rushed towards the trapped youngster, ignoring the pings flooding his circuits from his injuries. He wasn’t that far from them. 

“Pax! Stop!” Ravage called out to him in a harsh whisper, his frustration evident in the slight growl lacing his command, but Orion could not heed that request. Not when his coding so persistently urged him to help someone so desperately in need.

“You gotta get me outta here! They’re coming!” A wall of hunger assaulted the archivist’s EM receiver, unlike anything he’d ever felt before: thick, desperate, and driving. Something was coming, that was for sure, and Orion had a feeling that whatever it was, was the same thing that had caused all the carnage he’d been trying to avoid looking at. He had to get him out fast, or he’d be torn apart, just like the corpses littering the whole area. 

A weight slammed into him from behind, sending Orion careening face-first into the ground. Ravage hunched atop his back and hissed furiously into his audials. “There isn’t time, Pax! They’re here! We have to leave him!” 

Orion lifted his helm, anger coursing through his circuits like an inferno. He opened his intake to retort, but was frozen solid in fear when a shambling mech, painted in red and gold, tumbled down from atop the hunk of metal pinning the youngling down, landing with a ground shaking thud. Chunks of his armor were missing from his frame, and Orion immediately recognized the same thick, green goop oozing from his intake and down his front as he saw the drunken mech purge before the crash. 

The youngling screamed as the mech shambled towards him. Ravage jumped, and suddenly was in Orion’s line of sight, their faces nearly touching,

“We have to go now! More will come!” Ravage pushed his entire face against Orion’s aggressively, an obviously desperate attempt to push him up onto his pedes. The youngling’s field erupted suddenly in a hot, sickening burst of panic. “There’s no saving him now, Pax!”

Orion couldn’t remember getting to his pedes. Everything happened so fast. The shambling mech grabbed the youngling by the arm and mercilessly tore at the plating. Another mech, covered in the same putrid ooze, shambled forward from the shadows, and Orion’s processor flooded him with a new command: Run! 

Ravage was two steps ahead of him on that front, and Orion instinctually followed the cassette as he swiftly led them away, even passing more of the shambling, rotting mechs that were hobbling towards the source of the screams. 

The youngling’s field projected his agony and fear of death far beyond the wreckage field, and by the time the screaming stopped, Orion was venting far too heavily to even notice its absence. He ran until the pressure building in his hydraulics overpowered his internal command to flee. 

His HUD flashed red. He was overheating, and his hydraulics couldn’t continue at the brutal pace that his survival coding had forced on him. He had to stop. His frame shook from the overexertion. He couldn’t stop the anguished screams of that mech from playing on loop in his processor. If he’d had any fuel in his tanks, he would have purged it all right then. 

“Snap out of it, Pax. We can’t stop now. We’re almost there.” Ravage’s annoyed whisper broke through his inner turmoil. Ravage was right. He couldn’t afford to stop. Not when those things were out there, likely to follow them once they were finished with-

No! Orion forced the thought out of his processor and forced his legs forward, despite the stinging pressure and pinging diagnostics. He wasn’t ready to return to the Well just yet. He was grateful that Ravage accepted this slower pace that his frame now demanded. 

They were following the tracks. Orion hadn’t noticed when they were running. All he was able to focus on was Ravage and trying to keep up with the far nimbler cyber-feline. He wasn’t even entirely certain how far they ran before he stopped, and he absolutely was not about to turn around and find out. 

When they finally stopped, it was at what appeared to be an empty Emergency Depot. They were scattered relatively regularly along the various strings of transport lines around the planet. Ravage led him inside, and as soon as the door snapped shut behind them, he let out a furious hiss. 

“Don’t you ever do something that slagging stupid again! You almost got the both of us killed!” Orion jumped away from his smaller companion and opened his intake to respond, but Ravage gave him no time to do so. 

“I will not die for you, Orion Pax.  Do you understand me? If you pull something like that again, I will leave you behind! I don’t care if you’re Megatronus’ favorite upper cast plaything. You ain’t worth dying for!” 

It was like the very air was sucked from his vents. Orion deflated, his gaze falling to the floor and his finials lowering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know” 

Ravage sighed dismissively and flicked his tail. He said nothing for a few kliks, but Orion didn’t want to think about why. He had too many other concerns vying for his attention. His tanks ached with their emptiness, and his frame felt heavier than he’d ever remembered it being. He ached deeply, down to the protoform, and he still had no clue what was going on. Overshadowing all of that was the fear that clawed at his spark and made him wish he’d just slipped into stasis instead of coming online to this nightmare. 

“Frag… you’re a real piece of work, aren’t you, Pax?” Ravage said, but his tone was gentler than before. It made Orion think of when he was a sparkling, annoying his caretakers for attention, which, unfortunately, didn’t make him feel any better in the moment. 

“Megatronus just told me to get on the train. Ravage… is he alright?” The cyber-feline rolled his optics and turned to slink deeper into the building. Orion had no choice but to follow, making sure to close and lock every door they came through, just in case. 

“I don’t know. Comms are down all over. I can’t even contact Soundwave.” Ravage huffed softly at that. “I found this place about 2 cycles ago. There’s some energon rations stashed in the back, and some mediberths if you need to recharge. They, uh… they haven’t come back. They tend to hang around the crash.” 

“The rations taste like scrap, but the packaging says it's nutritionally complete,’ whatever that means.” Ravage shrugged, and hopped up onto a sofa in the dimly lit space that Orion could now see was a lounge of sorts, probably for the mechs who normally were stationed here. 

Orion couldn't care less how the rations tasted. His tanks demanded refueling, and his coding told him that he would feel better all over if only he could get something into his him. He tore into them, devouring one after the other. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was, or how much his systems had been starving for the power to simply function. It took four entire ration cubes to satiate him. 

The effect struck almost immediately once he lowered his last cube to the floor. His self-repair routines rebooted, and he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge for recharge. He didn’t even try to make it to the mediberths. The lounge sofa was much closer, and right now, it looked like the most comfortable thing on the entire planet. 

Ravage only huffed softly as he hopped down from the sofa, and up onto the adjacent chair, where he curled up in the way that cyber-felines did; curled in a ball with his helm tucked under his tail.

“We can’t stay here.” Orion said, his voice just above a whisper. His processor was fighting against the wave of recharge that was crashing over him, forcing him to think about how close those things really were to them, and mixing those thoughts with how much he wished Megatronus was here… 

“Not for long, no.” Ravage glanced up at him, with a raised optical ridge, his tone dry and tired. Orion tried to keep his optics focused on him. 

“I promised him I would get there.” Orion’s vocalizer started to slur his glyphs, and Ravage tilted his helm and scrunched his optics in confusion. 

“Promised who?” Ravage’s tone said that he really didn’t care. 

“Mega…” Orion’s optics shuttered closed, and he in-vented deeply to quell the anxiety that still bubbled behind the coding trying to force him into recharge. 

The cyber-feline snorted at that and laid his helm back down. 

Orion frowned and forced his optics back open. There was still too much data he needed to understand what was happening around him. 

“What happened to everyone?” 

Ravage sighed at that question, and lifted his helm to meet Orion’s optics once more. 

“Shut up, Pax, and recharge. I’ll tell you all I know when we come online.” 

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

The Jabberwock, Alice in Wonderland, and Kuroshitsuji

Remember that during season 2 one of the OVAs is about the reinterpretation of Alice in Wonderland?

Once again, another proof that Yana Toboso has taken a cue from Lewis Carroll is the inclusion of this monster we first saw in the drawings of Gregory Violet when she wrote the Public School arc in 2012.

It is the Jabberwock.

After Ciel mentioned the name of Derrick Arden, the four prefects were immediately stunned. For those who read the manga, we know the reason Edgar Redmond, Lawrence Bluewer, Herman Greenhill and Violet suddenly became anxious, angry, afraid upon hearing the name.

Unknown to Ciel, Violet, inspired by this outcome, couldn’t help illustrating the creature off Lewis Carroll’s poem, “Jabberwocky.”

From Episode 4, The Butler, Colluding

There was a book lying near Alice on the table, and while she sat watching the White King (for she was still a little anxious about him, and had the ink all ready to throw over him, in case he fainted again), she turned over the leaves, to find some part that she could read, “—for itʼs all in some language I donʼt know,” she said to herself.

It was like this.

She puzzled over this for some time, but at last a bright thought struck her. “Why, itʼs a Looking-glass book, of course! And if I hold it up to a glass, the words will all go the right way again.”

This was the poem that Alice read.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!”

It is a nonsense poem where Lewis Carroll used words that didn’t appear in the dictionary.

But in this particular frame, Violet was so full of guilt he wanted the creature to swallow Ciel whole. Or he likened him to the monster. The monster that will bring him and his colleagues/friends down on their knees.

[mocafrio]

Empty Hourglass

Character(s) | Lilia Vanrouge

Pairing | Lilia x GN!Reader

Summary | “I miss you more than I remember you.”

Tags | Angst, grief, reflection

Warning(s) | Mentions of death

You were here, you were there, you were everywhere.

Lilia was impressed by your persistent existence in the back of his mind. Hiding slyly in the crevices of his consciousness, akin to pesky dust within bookshelves, waiting for the right moment to jump and send him back to the reverie of the days the both of you once shared many years ago.

A bitter feeling always lingered in his chest after waking up from those peculiar dreams you had given him. Somehow, it ached whenever he realized you weren’t here anymore.

And why was that?

You were one of the lucky ones—he thought once. Only a handful of people had managed to stay in his circle, and that circle also had other little circles in it. You stood on the closest line to him. So close that even after you were gone, he could still feel your faint heartbeat along those lines.

Of course, as decades went by, eating his leftover memories without protest, he eventually forgot your face, your voice, and your entirety.

But the feelings he held for you were for eternity.

It was strange.

The fae was never the one to dwell on the past. Everything goes on. Lilia fully understood how different his lifespan was from other ordinary beings, including the inevitable long life he’ll live alone for many years to come.

He didn’t think of it as a curse until you breathed your last breath.

Lilia experienced countless encounters and departures throughout his whole life. All he treated with the same level of sentiment, as easy as saying ‘hello’ upon crossing paths with someone and saying ‘goodbye’ before going home. Sure, he’d let others enter his circle, but they only managed to get close on their own accord. And most of them would stop halfway from receiving the key to the home of his heart—not like any of them would care anyway. He didn’t think of it too much, though. He could care for himself as long as he could remember.

Being alone was as natural as the air Lilia breathed for hundreds of years. He was used to it.

Until one day, you came along. Before he could give the key to you, you already had it in your hands all this time. Catching him off guard like a summer storm. Gently removing the bricks of his wall, his home, and his heart. Then, his world shifted like no other.

Did he loved you too much that the universe was sick of it and took you away?

As Lilia walked along the shoreline, the chill breeze grazed his cheeks, and soft sand seeped through his feet. He watched the sunset slowly being pulled down by the horizon.

He had so many words left unsaid to you.

Staring off into the distance, he wondered if somewhere, out there in the skies, you were watching him right now. Would you be proud of the person he has become today? Would you give him praise for how he lives now? Would you still love him the same?

You were more than just a memory for him.

You were everything.

Suddenly, he froze in his tracks, staring at the ground, appalled. As if lightning just struck him dead.

What was your name again?

✧ Inspired from this post

✧ This fic is also posted on AO3

「Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated .｡.:*♡」