#i want to embrace my violence and i want to be adored for who i am in my entirety and i eant a fucking. pack of dogs to run through the

[frankensteinmutual]

genuinely though I think I cannot overstate how much this tv show means to me like I think it might have surpassed black sails and twin peaks in its importance at this point and that. says an awful lot

[nothomegal]

HIII I MISS YOU :(( straight to the point, I need a yandere pyramid head fic!!

I´m sorry for the disappearance ;v; Can't post much due my studies.

Anyways, I ADORE your suggestion! And boy if our little (Y/N) is going to have a rough time with a yandere creature like Pyramid Head ._.)

Welp, let's start the story!

"Innocent lamb"

(Yandere!Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Summary: the entity's realm was hell for some, heaven for others, and an inconvenience for the rest... But when one of the creatures encountered you, he made it everyone's problem, even the entity's that brough him there in the first place. But he meant no harm to you. He likes you. He wants you. He needs you. And he wͦ̀ͯi̸ll̩ͩ have Y̛̗̰͇͚͓͈̣͕̰͓̗͛ͤ̀̇̍ͥ͒̓͝Ơ̵̔_̰̅U̵̷̡̧̡̨͖̟̹͙̙͓̥̗̫̣̙͉͕͉̣̬̇ͭ͗̉͂̅̍͗̇̇́́̈͟͞

Warnings: yandere/obsessive behavior, violence and violent acts, quite angst(y) mood in general, (understandably) terrified reader darling :(.

Word count: 4.2k

The moment they entered the trial, all four survivors knew right away who the killer was. Either its the dread they all felt as soon as their feet made contact with the ground that gave it away, or the fact that the entity had placed all of them in the same spot next to two generators just to have any chances to make it out alive.

But they know it's in vain, they know they're doomed for a long long death by bleeding out.

They know it... Because (Y/N) is with them.

Said survivor had to bite their lip to avoid crying, as guilt and terror embraced them. Just because the monster had this unholy obsession with them it didn't mean they were okay with it, if anything it scared them more.

He, Pyramid Head, the Executioner... Or however you want to nickname him, is said to be one of the most powerful creatures the entity had the pleasure to bring, so powerful in fact that the spider-like being had to make a deal to bring him.

So it's not surprising that they are absolutely horrified, but who wouldn't? This monster, an embodiment of pain and punishment, almost a god, has been hunting them relentlessly ever since he laid his gaze or... Helmet? On them.

At first it was all jokes and gags;

'Aww look, (Y/N) has a boyfriend!'

'Watch out, here comes your crush (Y/N)!'

'Uh-oh, the triangle man seems jealous, look how pissed he is at Nea for healing you!'.

But the jokes stopped when it got clear how truly messed up and sinister said 'crush' is.

They still remember it, it was a regular match against that one masked knife wielding guy that runs a lot, he's called 'Legion' they think. The trial was going relatively well, just like many previous ones. Until it suddenly got an 180° turn when one of the walls to the realm was literally destroyed by a hulking mass of muscle and a giant knife. To say both (Y/N) and the killer nearly had a cardiac arrest was an understatement, things got so ugly that the entity had to intervene and cut the trial short.

That incident could be a fuel for a new wave of jokes, could... If it didn't happen again. And that next time was even worse, the beast nearly made his way into the survivor side of the realm, somehow bursting through the barrier the entity had created to keep the survivors separated from the killers to avoid any pity fights after trials.

Ever since that event, Pyramid Head was strictly kept in 'his' realm, aka Midwich Elementary School.

Sometimes, after escaping through the gates and running back into the camp through the fog, (Y/N) could swear they can hear the monster roar in the distance. Loud, distorted and fierce howls resonating somewhere behind the dense fog, as if the creature was desperately trying to yell out their name. Either to let them know how badly he wants them or a promise to break free and get them... Both possibilities giving them chills.

The entity of course wasn't okay with this, it was pissed! But it also could do so little... The great deal now had turned into a major curse. If the deal is broken, the Executioner won't hesitate to damage the realm to get what he wants. But if it remains, the monster will find new ways to bend the rules and make it everyone's problem.

Why the entity doesn't just give (Y/N) to the beast or gets rid of them ones for all? No one really has the answer. Some think it's due the entity's pride, or the possibility of the executioner going ballistic. For now, it's more of a silent (and petty) battle between two stubborn beings, each of them refusing to back away from their goal.

Goal. The entity's goal, though still confusing, is more or less clear; force people and creatures to play these twisted games and feed on those who get sacrificed. But the executioner's goal? It's straight up a mystery. (Y/N) know it has something to do with them, but... Why them exactly? Why not Cheryl? Didn't she come from the same place as that beast? What the monster even wants them for?

What will he do when he finally gets his hands on them? Wh-

A rough shake snapped (Y/N) out of their internal break down.

They blink a couple of times, tears of fear nearly sliding down their cheeks as their body shivers. They were scared, more than the other three survivors combined.

The survivor holding them by their shoulders, David, sighs when he finally notices them react.

—"Look, I know you're scared..."— he starts talking, his voice surprisingly calm.

—"I'm-... I- I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry-..."— you choke out in a weak wobbly voice, guilt eating you from inside.

—"No no. Just listen for a sec. I... Well, we all can tell that you aren't enjoying it neither. So, let's not break down into a soap opera, okay? Don’t think of this as hopeless match, but as another chance to woop that asshole's ass and escape."—

—"And also leave him empty handed!"— Feng announces from her place while already working on a generator.

—"Yeah, screw that triangular piece of shit! Let's try out Dwight's strategy this time. You remember it, do you?"— he asks you, not letting go of your shoulders yet.

The surprisingly positive and reassuring words of their teammates towards them really soothed and even cheered (Y/N) a bit. With a small smile they quickly wipe their eyes before nodding.

—"Good, see? We're already starting on a good note!"— he lets go to then pat your back, basically pushing you forward. —"Now go help with a gen before putting the 'plan' into work."—

Though the push hurt a bit, (Y/N) didn't care at all about the pain, too focused on keepings all the negative and pessimistic thoughts away.

For the first minute and a half everything was going well, (Y/N) and Feng were working on one generator while David and Jonah were working on the other one. The four of them were dead silent, straining their ears for any of the sounds the creature makes, such as heavy footsteps, the scraping of his gigantic knife or their own heartbeat. Weirdly enough, everything was calm... Too calm.

(Y/N) nearly choked with air when a cold chill ran through their spine.

Spine Chill. The beast... Is watching them.

They attempt to subtly alert Feng by carefully tapping her leg, but as soon as their fingertips touched the other girl’s skin, their heartbeat started to get louder and louder, until…

—“WATCH OUT!”—

(Y/N) exclaimed as they pushed Feng, just in time to dodge a bunch of sharp and rusted metal pieces coming out the ground.

—“Holy-...”— she mutters.

Now that the monster is here, the four survivors decided to put in action the mentioned strategy.

They all let go of the generators and run away in different directions, (Y/N) being the most desperate while running since they know exactly who the beast is targeting.

His pattern is always the same; chase after until sending them into a cage to then down all of their teammates and then come straight back to all caged and helpless (Y/N) and then… Stare or touch them until the others bleed out or the entity has enough.

The difference in the current case, is that (Y/N) is not playing just cat and mouse. In fact, chasing them is the worst the killer can do. All of their abilities are chase oriented, another teammate lurking around has all the boon ones, while the last two have all is needed to rush through the generators. If everything works out, the monster will get himself in a situation where he's be forced to leave (Y/N) alone.

The chase was intense, at least for (Y/N). Despite never catching a clear view of the Executioner, they could feel him close behind, following them methodically like a wild animal on a hunt, waiting for the right moment to strike while keeping up the tension.

It was hard to maintain the focus, every single hallways in The Game looked the exact same. Did they vaulted that window already? Didn't they pre-dropped that palled over there? Did Feng placed it up again? Are the other two working on the generators? Have they taken this left path before?

So many questions where swarming their mind as their legs kept carrying them on, only momentarily relaxing when two generators finally made that distinguish noise.

Two done! Tree left.

A breathless laugh escaped from them. Great! This is already going better than all of their previous encounters with the Executioner, which would always end with the first generator barely reaching 30%.

However, their smile was quickly swept when they realized they no longer hear their heartbeat or thundering footsteps tailing behind. It was silent, dead silent, with no other sounds that their own breathing.

A wave of anxiety flushed through (Y/N) like a tsunami wave and started to drag and drown them deeper into their own worries.

What the?... Okay, this was not part of the plan. The Executioner had never left the chase with them, never. So the fact that he finally did, and apparently a while ago, made them shake.

With nothing else to do, they gather the courage to start moving again. Where? Somewhere! Anywhere but to stay in place and be an easy target to the beast that so desperately wants them.

They keep running, stopping only for a brief moment before turning a corner, making sure they don't hear any muffled breathing that at times resembled growls. They learned the hard way with the Shape that some killers like to wait around corners, and they don't want to commit the same mistake right now.

Their heart jerked when they heard a scream resonate from their left, and a faint reddish aura in the shape of a human gleamed for a second before disappearing.

David is down.

And it seems like he's not getting picked up, which could either mean that the monster is setting up a trap or chasing someone else. Whichever the case is, they shouldn't go-

They hear a bunch of footsteps come their way, and in a set of panic they crouch behind a bunch of boxes, silently praying that their disguise is mildly good.

They can't see much from their spot, but they can clearly recognize the shape of Jonah running away from something massive.

As soon as the two figures passed by, (Y/N) gets up and takes off running towards David to check on him.

After some wondering around the labyrinth-like place, they finally reach their injured teammate, who was still on the ground and groaning from pain.

—"{David!}"— you whisper-yell as you start running towards him.

He weakly lifts his head just enough to see them. When he recognized who it is, he starts to frantically shake his head.

—"NO! GET THE FUCK OUT!"—

Huh? What-

As (Y/N) is about to reach David, a path of sharp metal pieces and razor wires had emerged right in front of them, just when they're about to make contact with the floor again, making in impossible to dodge.

The second their leg got tangled into the sharp metallic mess, everything went too fast. They don't even have time to pull away as something sliced them on their side, sending them directly on the ground.

They send a guilty and ashamed glance to David, who had an frustrated expression.

—"{Sorry...}"— you mouth.

(Y/N) has no chance to see David's answer as a massive hand suddenly curled around their throat and forced them to look away from the other man.

Their eyes wide at the sight of the beast menacingly hovering over their helpless form, holding their body in place between him and the ground. The muscles of his extended arm were tense, his breathing heavy, almost like he's holding back the anger and displeasure caused by them giving attention to someone else.

Their heart skipped beats, their breath uneven, their eyes watered as they tightly closed them, not wanting to witness whatever this thing was about to do. They can feel the warmth coming from his body, his breathing slowly stabilizing, as if staring at them and watching them slowly submit was enough to calm the monster. Ironically, it did the complete opposite to (Y/N), as their own heartbeat raised from the anxiety of having to face the unknown, attempt to predict the unpredictable and prepare to witness another massacre unfold around them at any second... Just to then end up caged and at the mercy of this-

—"LEAVE THEM ALONE ASSHOLE!"— David angrily yells from his place, struggling and trying to stand up. —"You're fucking terrifying, of course they don't want to look at you!"—

They can feel Pyramid Head's hand tense and start shaking, his fingers twitching and pressing further into their skin. (Y/N) was beyond terrified now, just a little bit of pressure and the creature could crush their throat like a cardboard tube.

David, though clearly using all of his strength, ended up falling back on the ground, as if some invisible weigh is actively pushing him down.

—“You freak! Absolute sick fuck! Let them go already!”—

As the waterfall of profanities continues, (Y/N) slowly places their hands around the monster’s wrist to attempt to push his hand away, unfortunately he didn’t budge at all.

Suddenly, David’s stops screaming and the very next second (Y/N) feels something warm and slippery press against their cheek.

They jerk in place at the uncanny sensation and shoot open their eyes, a breathless gasp escaping them at the sight of a… Wh-What even is that? A freaking tentacle? A tongue?…

The dark pink muscle wiggles in front of their face for a moment before licking another stride, wiping some of their tears and blood in the process, making (Y/N) shiver in discomfort.

They shoot a confused glance to David, desperately wanting to know if he’s witnessing this too. The man had an expression of pure ‘what the fuck’; eyes narrowed, brows furrowed and mouth slightly gaping.

This eye contact was brief though. (Y/N) got startled for a loud growl that reverbed from the beast's chest and helmet. The hand finally leaves their throat as the beast stands up to his full height and starts making his way to David, leaving them alone, as well as his knife?

(Y/N) throws their teammate a scared look, but David responds with a forced smirk.

—"Ah, now you decide to drag your big ass towards me."— he mutters through gritted teeth.

The monster seem to not react to his taunts. With each step that he takes towards David, his mask of confidence seems to crack.

Nevertheless, the man didn’t back out from his insults, he never does.

—“What’s wrong? Why so pissy, huh?! Jealous that (Y/N) prefers us?!”—

Saying their name was a sore spot to hit, and the way Pyramid Head reacted confirmed that.

The monster roughly grabs David by the neck, completely ignoring the fact that he’s not even holding his weapon. Instead he uses his bare hands to silence him.

Nasty, wet and crunchy sounds resonated through the room and hallways as the creature began to tear the man’s body limb by limb, piece by peace, unbothered by the pained screams of his victim or the low groan of displeasure that resonated from above for again not playing by the rules.

(Y/N) froze in horror at the sight in front of them. Blood, chunks of flesh and bone pieces where flying everywhere, never before they’ve witnessed this type of gore, not even during the ‘mori’.

Though it felt like the massacre lasted hours, it was actually second. The monster threw the whatever remaining he had in his hands and slowly turned back to (Y/N), who was still frozen and unable to look away from what was left from David. They know they will meet again in the fire camp, in one piece and alive, but god they felt sick...

Their shock breaks only when the thundering footsteps began to resonate again, shaking the ground underneath them with each the creature took. He grew closer, and closer, with them being able to do absolutely nothing aside from attempting to crawl away.

But that pity attempt was stopped when the same sharp wires and rusty metal pieces emerged from the ground and wrapped around their body, pulling them slowly underneath and sinking them further into the ground. And before they realize it, their body is already trapped in that rotten metallic cage.

Cold metal spikes just inches away from their flesh, so close to penetrate their skin, a wrong move and they would undoubtedly get hurt. But even if they wanted to move, they couldn't really. The space in the structure was small, claustrophobic even, each spike perfectly adjusted to keep their form in place. In some twisted way, it felt like a hug, a very cold, unwelcoming and unnerving hug.

They flinch when they hear a scream resonate from somewhere, which was cut by a loud slam.

Feng was caught.

It seems like the Executioner didn't bother to down her, rather getting rid of her directly, most likely because he's aware that Jonah is not keen of going for rescues...

And speaking of the man, there is his aura flashing before (Y/N)'s eyes as his body fell on the floor.

He's down... Which means that-

Before they even finish their conclusion, the tall figure of the monster appeared. Just by looking at them his behavior seemed to change; movements more erratic and pace uneven, almost like he's hypnotized.

He makes his way to them, slowly, as if purposely building up the tension.

(Y/N) wanted to look away or close their eyes, but whenever they did so the cage felt painfully small. It hurt, literally, so they stare at that beast grow closer with wide shaky eyes that struggled to keep their focus on him. This is something Pyramid Head was always good at, he could always make you fear, even the toughest bravest ones would inevitably succumb to the terror his presence brings.

Ones in front of them, the creature stops in place and simply stares, like he always did.

(Y/N), though still scared, was a tiny bit relieved that this is what the rest of the trial would be; them being pinned like a butterfly with the monster observing.

It would be just that.

Just this bizarre staring contest.

...Right?

WRONG.

The creature suddenly let go of his weapon and grabs the edges of the cage with both hands quite violently.

Now the little hope and comfort (Y/N) had was thrown out the window, as now they realize they no longer have any idea of what will happen next.

And by what it looks like, the entity is not planning to intervene, as if curious itself to see what will happen next.

Pyramid Head remains like this, his big hands tightly squeezing the imperfect metal bars, bending them slightly and making the already miserable looking material groan from the pressure he was applying.

It looked like he wanted to destroy that cage, rip it apart and get to them, but didn't do it by holding himself back... Why? What's even the point of this build up? What's even the point in wanting them?!

—"{Wh-...Why?...}"— you choke out in a very quiet voice. —"{Why a-are you d-... doing this?...}"—

(Y/N) knows is stupid to ask, Pyramid Head can't even speak! But they can't help themselves, they're too scared, their anxiety is unbearable and their thoughts are too out of control. They need answers, anything that could even hint for a possible explanation of the killer's intentions.

They began to second guess their decision to speak when the creature froze in place, even his breath was now inaudible. This was the first time (Y/N) spoke directly to the monster, but they didn't expect him to react at this fact, not like this, or at all.

But he did, he did acknowledged that little detail, and he will make sure they acknowledge it too.

The creature soon moves again, by slowly leaning closer and slightly tilting his head to the side, almost like trying to get a better look at them.

His breathing got heavier, low huffs and growls resonating from that metallic helmet of his. It really looked like he was actively holding back some major urge or desire, but what it is?

(Y/N) wanted to ask again, but decided against it as there is little Pyramid Head could do to answer, and even if he could, why should he? Maybe it's more amusing to him to see them helplessly wondering in the dark and unable to comprehend what's going on.

Or maybe, there is simply nothing to explain?... Maybe he does what he does just because? Human mind is way too used to seek for reasons and explanations for anything and everything, often forgetting that sometimes the answer is way too simple or straight up null, could that be the case?

The same groan coming from the cage bars pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They forget how to breathe at the sight of the structure slowly collapsing as the monster starts to rip the bars with his raw strength.

A scared yelp escaped them as they try to back further into the cage as much as they can, ignoring the sharp edges that scratched or pierced their body. They barely felt pain, none at all actually, the adrenaline and basic survival instincts keeping their body resilient and ready to run. The sad part is, is that there is nowhere to run, nothing to do. It's sweet that their body tries so desperately to keep their hopes up and reassure their survival, but their mind is more than aware of the cold desolated reality...

The front part of the cage was eventually ripped off and thrown against the floor violently. (Y/N) can only cover their eyes with their hands and quietly sob as they wait for whatever the monster had planned to do next.

Even when no further actions are made, they refuse to look. They no longer want to face this thing, they no longer want to suffer this torment. Regardless if they believed in any religion or no, they mutter silent prayers under their breath, but not no save them, but to make it end and to know how sorry they are for any evil or harm they've did in their life that leaded to such tragic conclusion.

But this is where the catch is... They've committed none. At least from the Executioner's perspective.

Despite their whispers being so silent to a non-existent point, Pyramid Head heard them loud and clear. And the more he heard their voice, the more he felt the inside of his chest burn and the desire for them grow even more. (Y/N) is not perfect, they're human after all, and all humans have their fair share of flaws and defects... But unlike the rest, (Y/N) has the ability to acknowledge said imperfections and genuinely try to make up for them, to fix them... Regardless if they get something in return or not.

This, this is the true purity in a human being. An innocence and kindness so genuine that it would be a sin not to worship and protect... And who is a best fit to take care of it other than the fearsome Pyramid Head?

(Y/N)... So pure... So innocent... So kind... He must keep them save.

He must keep them...

He wants them...

W̴͕̳͈͔̭̝͠ͅ a̶̩̰̲̎̓͊̈̓̕ ǹ̴̢͇̬̘̗̯̜̍̋͊͠͝͠ ṭ̶͇̃̔͝ s̶̭̩͔̹̝̼̅̍̆̉͌͝

As the monster is about to reach them, a spider like legs burst out through the floor and wrap themselves around (Y/N).

The trial... Is over.

And while the absolutely livid roar gets overshadowed by the groans of the entity as the black fog surrounds the whole place. (Y/N) only keeps quietly sobbing as they cling to the spider leg sticking out of their chest. And though they knew the entity is the main responsible of their current torment, they were too overwhelmed with emotions to properly process their actions.

Surprisingly, the spider-like being didn't disappear right away, probably feeling pity for their situation and allowing them to cry for a brief moment, most likely to compensate this unplanned mess they have to deal with.

To everyone's surprise in the camp, when (Y/N) finally arrived they where unconscious, either passed out after such emotional roller coaster or the entity wants them take some genuine rest. Whatever the case it, it didn't matter, what matters is that their fellow friend is back save and sound, right?

As one of the survivors decided to take them closer to the bonfire for warmth and comfort, they could swear they heard some weird noises from afar.

It resembled a demonic cry filler with rage, so distant yet menacing. Everyone instinctively shivered.

And though (Y/N) successfully 'survived' yet another trial with the executioner, almost everyone had the gut feeling that the next encounter they have with the beast, it will not end good...

They all take a glance at their still unconscious form.

Poor (Y/N)...

[suiana]

✎ yandere! dilf headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulation(?), mentions of violence, implicated stalking and stealing, legal age gap, breeding kink 💀, etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! dilf who hired you as his son's tutor. he's just so worried that his darling son won't be able to keep up with school :( as a result you were hired to tutor him :D he actually doesn't know how you look like yet, but guessing from your profile picture you're a granny..?

✎ yandere! dilf who couldn't help but be enamoured with you the second you stepped inside his house. wait why were you so cute? didn't he hire an old- huh?! oh that was a picture of your grandma... oh well, he shouldn't have guessed. how else is he supposed to calm his boner now?

✎ yandere! dilf who's watering at your innocence. oh you're such a sweet thing! bright eyes sparkling with the desire to teach his son! your future son! he's so glad he's divorced... he's dead set on making you his beloved little thing. and you can't do anything to change it~!

✎ yandere! dilf who falls for you more and more with each tuition session. oh you just look so adorable! and that outfit you wore last session! it was so cute! he really had a hard time holding himself back you know? he's imagining tearing apart your outfit while marking you up now-!

✎ yandere! dilf who is older than you. I mean, he literally has a 15 year old son so it would be expected that he's old. but... he's still handsome! so you can consider him... right? oh please give him a chance! he'd hate to have to break you down completely :( yes he's that in love with you to the point where he won't mind breaking you down and rebuilding you to how he wants you to be ♡

✎ yandere! dilf who's extremely flirty and embraces his dilf-ness. rolling up his sleeves to expose his veiny forearms, unbuttoning his top two buttons to expose his defined chest, subtly flirting with you every time he sees you... just two tuition sessions ago he stood so close to you to the point where you could smell his cologne and see his man boobs?! you had to spend that entire tuition session clenching your fists just to focus. oh those sexy man boobs! his cleavage ! why is his body so sexy?! don't worry, if you wanted to touch he'll be more than happy to let you feel him up :)

✎ yandere! dilf who can't stop thinking about bashing in the heads of anyone who's glanced in you. no one should be taking in your divine self except for him and his son. those trash can't worship and love you like he does. hm... maybe he should just kidnap you? keep you all to himself. yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

✎ yandere! dilf who has a little shrine dedicated to you in his study. aw, how cute! it's just a small picture of you and a flower- wait is that your missing underwear? and is that your lost diary?! why's your entire schedule noted down with lots of hearts scribbled on it?! how'd he- there's no way he stalked you... right?

✎ yandere! dilf who gets his son to talk to you about how he's so lonely and wants another parent desperately... you're smart so you'll get what he means, won't you? after all, can you resist those watery eyes and the slight sniffling his son is doing? and he's sure you don't have any other tutees due to how much he's paying you already... so it's alright to be his, no?

✎ yandere! dilf who wants to breed you. it doesn't matter whether or not you can actually have children, he'll still want to breed you. imagining you round and full with his children... it just turns him on oh so much.

✎ yandere! dilf who really wouldn't mind a new addition to his family. I mean, for the past... 11 years it's only been him and his son :( and he finds it so lonely in his big mansion without anyone to accompany him... you understand what he's saying right? don't worry, you'll never have to lift a finger again should you accept his offer. he's rich after all :)

✎ "hn? oh my son did good, huh? should I reward you for being an amazing tutor? I know just how to thank you after all..."

[unabashednightmarepizza]

𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑀𝑦 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑...

Inspiration: this, this, this, this,

A/N: As per request, and a high demand, this is like a part of the Creator!Reader AU drabble I wrote some time ago! Though there is a mention about a gender in the end, since the Creator/God of Teyvat could change genders/ forms if wanted, I didn't see a problem with that one!

A/N: PLEASE SEND ME SOME NEUVI NEUVI FLUFF REQUESTS ( especially papa ones with melusines) I'M BEGGING! THIS ONE TOOK A HUGE TOLL ON ME LOL AND BECAUSE MY MIND ONLY WORKS FOR ANGST AND LORE THESE DAYS, I NEED A DISTRACTION-

Warnings: THIS SHIT IS LONG, LIKE VERY! Hints, not so much now, of Neuvi Neuvi being the Hydro Dragon and the Sovereign, hints of past abuse and violence but not detailed, reader being a simp in general

Part1

Ever since coming to the nation of justice, and obviusly water, you had never felt such immense comfort and safety at the mostly silent city, with water sounds mixing. After running away from almost all the nations with the exception of Sumeru, Snezhnaya, Natlan and of course Fontaine whose eyes weren't blinded by anything and rather listened to you, sheltered you and gave you friends after being on the wild all on your own...

The calm and safety you felt was weird.

After all, it wasn't you who asked to be the Creator of this game you loved dearly. You were just a simple, non-important human in your world. Going to school and work, study, try to stay alive, make food for yourself, sleep and repeat the cycle...

And suddenly, you were the "Beloved" Creator of all these characters? But they still hunted you down and there were a few who supported you?? And now you were playing with the tiny and adorable melusines by the pond while being married with the one you loved?

You would have said bullshit on Earth but now, as you giggled at the many melusines fighting for your attention while one of the much younger ones laid between your arms with short and warm breaths fanning your neck softly...

Maybe all the trouble you went through was worth it.

"I want to braid Their Grace's hair!"

"You already did it yesterday, and the day before that too!"

You watched as Puca and Serene bickered together, both of them pushing the other away behind you and tugging on your hair rather harshly without realizing from time to time. You already knew that wincing would make things worse, since they were all so fond of you that they hated the idea of inflicting you with any kind of pain and would wail which would later leave you with hundreds of melusines to comfort with an awkward smile.

It had gotten bad especially after the eldest of them told how "bad things" happened to you... but now You had them and their "papa" and were happier than ever!

"Their Grace will have a date with Monsieur Neuvillette~ So, let's stop bickering and make Them even more pretty!" A fierce blush took over your whole face, warming your cheeks cutely as the younger melusines cooed and giggled, holding onto their hands together and jumping up and down excitedly at the fact that their "papa" and "Mama/dad" were going out like the spouses they saw on the streets of Fontaine. You didn't... exactly have a gender, and considering you appeared in different forms for safety to other nations, especially Inazuma and Liyue who had been... rather passionate about killing you, you would often come back to the loving embrace of your husband and daughters tired, completely forgetting about your form which was different than the one they always saw you.

It still made you stiffle laughs whenever you remembered the way the melusines gasped and looked at you and their papa snuggled under a blanket so lovingly like he always did with their mama/dad...

Poor things cried their eyes out because they thought Neuvilette was being unfaithful to you and didn't stop until they truly saw you and ran at you, never leaving your side at all and gave their papa nasty eyes... which made him also cry because he never thought of such thing happening, not when even his eyes wouldn't stray from your glowing body as you slotted your fingers with his, swinging your joined hands proudly while walking around the city with him next to you as he blushed and softly looked at you.

Not when his unbeating heart, after you disappeared, started to beat once again at your fragile form in the courtroom and he put his coat over your shivering form, eyes glossy with gratefulnes as you accepted it with shaky hands and a silent and meek thank you that pierced and squeezed his chest.

Not when he finally found his mate, his true love, though it was the Creator he always held affection for and waited for millenias for you to return back once more to grace him with your light.

No one could deny the obvious feelings between you and the Chief Justice who wouldn't be too far away from you ever since you entered the city and looked at him with fearful eyes, even when you two weren't courting yet alone being married. No one blamed you for your obvious fear, they caught wind of what happened and had a brief idea after all. So, instead, they acted kind to you and offered to tell you about themselves and the city after you begged them (which felt wrong because weren't they supposed to be on their knees for you?) to call you by your name and act normal. Through time, they saw how happier and more expressive you had become at the way they acted with you, often seeing you play with the children or help out Lady Furina with meetings, or just sit with them for a lunch as they talked about the latest gossips or trends...

Such as how the other nations were suffering because of the lack of your presence, and how theirs were flourishing even more as the days passed.

Even the people knew how jealous the other nations and their people were that Fontaine was the city you favoured, that their archon was your friend and the next important person, their Chief Justice, was your spouse. And people of Fontaine was extremely smug and happy about it, happier than they had ever been, at the fact that the Creator wanted to share Their eternity with their Chief Justice, that he was the one who held your affection and love. Neuvilette seemed like he never cared about what people said about him, at least about the Chief Justice part of him. He judged according to the laws, which he soon realized was flawed, and did his reports religiously. To the outside, he was a stern and cold man who could never be tender for another, love them as if he was holding a fragile glass, and wanting to protect his love, their love and smile and everything that made him love that one special person.

Yet, the truth couldn't be further from the truth.

Yes, that unloving and cold part of him was a side he often used to not show how affected he would become after every harsh comment... But only those closest to him, melusines and now you, knew it to be completely fake and that Neuvilette always wanted to do his damn best and even more for his people.

You didn't understand why everyone seemed to make you stay away from him when you first started to wander in the city with him not so behind you. He insisted that he would accompany you (after you begged him to go out for fresh air or else you were about to explode out of boredom and he caved in at your puppy eyes) and introduce the city, knowing very well that the people could be rather instantaneous , rash at the first sight of you and you didn't like sudden moves after the events obviously, so he told you that he would be close enough to intervene if something were to happen and enjoy yourself as much as you can.

But there was one thing he didn't consider that day, one thing you didn't have an idea happening which made you whiplash so suddenly that the melusine you held hands with shrunk and thightened her hand over yours, scared: The obvious distaste of the sweet Melusines, even now, and the man that had been nothing but sweet to you, taking care of you at rough nights and whispered sweet things to you.

Going as far as letting you sleep on the couch in his office after much bickering, him insisting that a divine being such as yourself only deserved silk and the softest of beds Teyvat could offer and you whining out that it was him that you needed as you cuddled up to his long coat with a sweet and sleepy smile.

But you didn't like how people were so against him, so hellbent on making you realize that he wasn't a good choice, that he was made out of cold stone and nothing else.

That he didn't know how to even love.

But...

They didn't know how it was you that he had let himself go, to enjoy the simple side of life.

They didn't know how you would catch him staring at and feeding the otters, which you often affectionately called "mini Neuvi", with the softest and most adorable face he ever had and then flush when you caught him in the middle of his petting session and joined him, crouching down next to him.

They didn't know how his heart pounded at being close to you, witnessing your love and kindness to everything and everyone around you from being close to you and how you often held onto his arm thight as you both strolled around with flushed cheeks, under the teasing eyes of the elders of Fontaine who commented how cute you both looked together and how your eyes shone brighter.

He really wanted to know if it was because of the comments or your happiness for being treated like normal bir he didn't know he would learn it soon...

Or, they didn't know how he wished to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you against himself protectively, as if everyone outside was a life-threatening danger to you.

They didn't know the way he silently loomed close to you but still remained in the shadows, just enough to watch you have fun, and smile wide with his own little one tugging on his lips.

They didn't know that he enjoyed it the most whenever you brought whatever you baked, with one of the melusines behind you walking happily, and brought it to him as a thanks for all he did for you. No one has ever done this much for me, you would say and he had to refrain from taking your chin between his gloved hand and softly wipe that frown away. For you, anything he wanted to say many times but always refrained from doing so but as he gazed at your eyes at the time...

He knew you already knew about what he wanted to say, what he wanted to do as your eyes locked in his amethyst eyes and pink lips, chest to chest and standing so close to each other that your breaths mingled together as you both just... Stared at each other.

And they didn't know how he wanted to kiss you, how much you wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to yourself while messing with his perfectly-done hair... To bask in the happiness only he was able to give you, surrounded by perhaps otters and your sweet "daughters" and just... knowing each other.

They didn't know him like you did.

And they didn't know the sweet melusines like you did either.

And... Well, perhaps, they also didn't know how protective you were of them and the wrath of you was a power to beckon with when challenged.

"Born from Calamity, you say. He brings only devestation and pain to those close to him, you say..." your voice, calm yet still had a hidden threatening tone, was carried by the Wind on your command and towards right into their ears. The group that was talking shit behind your family all stiffened up, knowing that they had the attention of their Creator in the worst way possible.

Little Puca's hand shook between yours, which made your anger skyrocket even more, her eyes scaredly looking around as she shuffled closer to your long clothes and held on for dear life. She knew about the dislike from humans through her older sisters but... she didn't think it was this bad even now after many years.

What had they done wrong, except working hard and waiting for the people's approval?

"Y-Your Grace, w-we didn't mean to-"

"You are telling me that you didn't mean to say my daughters couldn't be trusted because you don't know where they are from, and since my husband loves them so much, in extension, he also couldn't be trusted?" You pushed whatever words this... woman had to say right back into her throat as she shivered from terror at your cold, glimmering eyes that held the universe in them pierced through her harshly and she had nothing else to do except bow in shame and hope to be forgiven...

Wrong move though.

"Do you think of me... perhaps, stupid?" You sneered angrily, stopping in the middle of your sentence in fake thinking with a curious finger tapping your chin as absolute and undeniable horror filled the people.

"N-Never, Your Grace-!"

"Then how dare you lie to my face and talk shit about my family? Who do you think you are?" Your voice rang menacingly all over Fontaine, all the water and even Wind stopping, as those who had been nothing but rude to the melusines cowered in fear and those who always stood on their side smiled proudly. You already heard enough, knew that you had been silent for so long which ended up with your family being hurt far longer than they should have and now, the time was over.

With slow and silent steps, you stood before the woman who lifted her head hopefully to look at your face but soon horror found her at the blank face you gave her with your contrasting soft hands holding her face.

"I have been patient, for you all to realize your mistake and fix it but if this goes on any longer... If I need to inflict fear so that your filthy words wouldn't taint my family... Then so be it."

With your final words, you picked Puca up and craddled her between your arms lovingly, whispering sweet soothing words as you told her how papa must have been worried and that you two had to go and meet with the rest as soon as possible.

As the little melusine rambled about whatever picked her interest that day, the fright from before long forgotten as you listened attentively but soon frowned when you felt the cooling sensation of... water, over your face.

And lo behold, soon after your brief talk, it started to rain softly.

You really hoped that your husband didn't hear the commotion, knowing how much it would hurt his gentle heart to hear the people he swore to protect still treat him and his daughters badly. You knew how... Carole's sacrifice affected him, how he started to not trust people and turn his emotions off because of how painful it was for him.

He was the one who told you this, after another nightmare where he couldn't do anything to protect his family, and sobbed on your chest with his beautiful hair all messy, eyes swollen and red as he begged you to forgive him, still affected by the gruesome sight of your body and his hands covered in large gushes and golden blood. And even then, he was the most beautiful sight you ever laid your eyes on.

But, to your horror, he did hear it.

But cried for an entire different reason.

And not long after, it started to rain... which made you think back to all the times it poured, You stared at the sky with a lovesick smile over your face as you stared at Neuvillette's slightly-shaking back, who thought he hid himself well behind the stone sculpture of yours, already planning to go to his office later to comfort your big baby.

Still thinking back to all the times when your sensitive, lovely and gentle husband who appeared to be cold but was actually the cutest man/dragon alive, cried and made it rain... Feared that he ruined everything once again but you begged to differ.

To you, it was the most beautiful show of his own feelings.

1.He saw a cute otter

"Hello, mini Neuvi! How are you?"

This time of the day was perhaps, the most funny and relaxing one for you. Because, after so much work and paper and also Furina's drama, you really needed to blow off some steam and just enjoy your life. Fontaine was a beautiful nation, but sometimes... You just wished to see other ones from more of a close eye, especially Sumeru.

It has been such a long time that you were starting to forget the beautiful greenery there, and how much you enjoyed hanging out with the others who became your friends quickly.

You definetly didn't miss Cyno's dad-jokes and how the others stared in shock when you snorted at one of them-

But, you were happy with where your life was right now. You were safe, happy, had the cutest animals around you, and then there were the sweet and ever-helpfull melusines who were always at your back and call with pretty much anything and...

There was Neuvillette.

You giddily laughed and put your hair behind your ear shyly, even the mention of the usually composed and calm yet so easily flustered man made your heart burst and dance. You wanted to believe that there was something sparking between you two after the many times you hung out with him, and the many times everyone told you that no, Chief Justice never just "hung out" with people and that this was a first.

Probably what sealed the deal for you, and pretty much everyone, was the way he... very obviously had softened gradually.

It was the subtle way he made sure you were okay, always buying a nicely done bouqet on his way for you and slowly, starting to smile more. People, before you came along, often was scared to talk to him because of his "brooding personality". They thought he was someone hard to talk with, which at first was true. The usually expressionless face he always wore made people stay away, and loose the best kind of companionship they could have had by not trying harder to understand him.

Because, deep down, you saw the longing eyes he gave to the couples in Fontaine or the best friends hanging out together happily. He really wanted to have that too, he just didn't know how and therefore, he was seen as heartless and uncaring for any attachments when it was the most wrong thing he ever could be.

Not that you had any complaints, even if that treatment sometimes saddened you, you were happy that it was you he chose to show that side of him even if it was as a result of... a traumatic experience.

"I brought you, and your whole family the most yummy snacks ever! Made by none other than me!" You shook your head at the thoughts to focus on the cute otters who were swimming where you were simply floating, making excited sounds at seeing both their creator and "mama/dada".

A/N: I just want a horde of melusines and otters in my home, is that too much to ask? 🥲🥹

Giggling at their enthusiasm, you happily followed them around for almost all the afternoon and you couldn't lie, it was the best swimming you ever had, with a worry-free mind and heart.

That was, of course, until you felt a panicked presence close before warm hands (contrasting to the cool water around you) circled your middle and a relieved breath on your ear made goosebumps appear on your skin.

"I was worried, Your Grace... No one has seen you today." Your body relaxed visibly at his rich and soothing voice and slacked back ahainst his chest, his arms thightening around your waist without noticing and inhaling your shampoo deeply with a content smile.

"Oh... Yes, I needed some alone time to myself. I'm sorry if I worried you so much." You sheepishly looked at him while still in his soft embrace and he looked down slightly at your face, crinkled with happiness and then, smiled.

Which, obviously, made your heart stop for a second as you internally gushed at how handsome he was.

"It's okay... I know you can protect yourself. Though I wonder what had taken your attention this much?"

An excited gasp left you when you remembered your children and looked around to see them behind a rock, peeking from the corner to look at you fearfully, unsure if it was safe for them to come out again.

"I came to meet my children! Come on, darlings! He is a friend, you are safe with him!"

Neuvillette widened his eyes at your form who was immediately swarmed with the otters, all clinging onto you as soon as the words left your mouth and he couldn't will his heart to stop pounding his chest at the blissful and motherly smile over your face.

It had been some time that he finally admit his feelings for you, after having a long lecture from Furina and Navia herselves about love, feelings and how a romantic relationship works. They literally forced him to look deeper into his heart and just feel what he feels when he is around you, what he wants to do and wished to happen etc. They already had enough of their favourite ship not sailing yet, Furina just wanted some action and Navia... well, she knew he was a good man now and didn't deserve to be lonely all the time so she was eager to help.

Safe to say, even they were shocked and teary-eyed at how sensitive, sensual and romantic he was when it came to you.

And those feelings only intensified with each passing day, after he was more aware of his body's, the dragon in him's reactions to you and what you did.

And right now, they were purring contently and proudly at watching you interact with your children.

Even the thought of such thing excited him and he had to cough to mask his embrassment when you two... weren't an "item" as Lynette and Lyney used to say while giggling just like any other teenager in Fontaine.

He didn't know what "being an item" meant, this was teenagers after all and their language was weird.

"Come here, mini Neuvi! I know you want this yummy fish snack- Neuvillette, are you okay?"

Well, he definetly didn't expect to hear you call an otter... with his name. He was a mighty dragon, a Sovereign for Celestia's sake, not a small and weak creature!

But as he looked at you swinging the cute otter side to side, pointing at every feature that was very much like him according to you from the blue streaks they had, how they loved swimming, head pats and rolling in the water and how they adored being fed (something he regretted ever telling you about and letting you do it just because he wanted you to do so, that the dragon side of him submitted to you, going as far as letting you pat him and feed him, showing weakness), there was nothing he could do except sigh defeatedly and watch you play with the now horde of them as they all made happy sounds at you.

But really? Did you really have to call the otter between your arms which was cuddling up to you "Mini Neuvi"?

Did you really have to make him blush as he imagined what your supposedly-not-here-yet children might look like as they also cuddled up to your warm embrace, chanting your name?

"Oh My- Neuvillette, there is smoke coming out of you! What the-" your eyes widened at him as you worriedly swam to where he was slightly bent over, hair and hand trying and failing to hide his deep blush and giddy smile as you fussed over him.

Yeah, he had to have better control of his emotions and... bodily reactions from now on.

2. I kissed him under the rain

"As if it wasn't bad already, It's raining again!"

"Ugh, again? There goes my travel plans..."

"I wonder what's wrong with the Hydro Dragon enough to make him cry all the time..."

"This rain is ruining everything-!"

All his life, he listened to and watched people of Fontaine complain about the rain. How it destroyed their shops, how their plans were ruined and how they would surely get sick after this rain... Most of them knew about the Hydro Dragon legend, and as selfish as it might have sounded, he wished people would be at least a little bit worried over him.

Expecting this much wasn't wrong after all, right? He never thought or demanded the people to enjoy rain, he knew it could be a huge hassle to deal with a heavy storm and the mud that came with it.

But never in his eons of life, did he see someone as pecular as you, dancing and laughing under the rain but still held a somewhat thoughtful frown.

"Why are you not running away?"

He blushed at how the question left his mouth so suddenly, turning his head to not look at you as you halted and turned to him with a confused stare but soon grinned like an excited kid.

"Why would I? It's so refreshing and the rain feels nice on my skin!" You couldn't help yourself and jump on a little puddle on the ground and splash water everywhere, gleefully running around as Neuvillette's eyes were trained on you intensely.

He... didn't understand humans most of the times but you? You were another kind of enigma for him as you ran happily and pushed the wet locks of your hair away from your face which usualy irritated most of the women. You were definetly going to get sick, have a runny nose and probably feel fatigued all day... but as you slapped your wet cheeks to make sure all of this was real, and that you were finally here all happy, the sickness that would come after this seemed worthy.

But, Neuvillette had been more silent than you were used to...

Not hearing or seeing any reaction from him, you slowly came to an end in your little game and tilted your head at his expressionless face. "Do you... hate the rain?"

A sudden realization came over at his bashful and solemn face, the downward turn of hisblips and the slight bite he gave to himself. "Oh..."

"Yes..." he muttered under his breath and looked down, eyes brimming with tears and stinging his eyes but hidden by his own wet hair. His face was already flushed from the cold, and perhaps by the sight of your clothes clinging on your body and showing off some of your skin and curves.

Or maybe, the bright yet understanding smile on your face as you tilted your head at him was what made him stop and lift his eyes and stare at you dumbfounded.

And make his own tears pour even harder.

"How can anyone hate the rain?" You asked softly and he knew... He knew you didn't mean just the rain, but himself. He wondered if you were aware of the implication of your words, whether you knew the truth about him or not but frankly enough...

He didn't care.

If it was you who knew, but still didn't say anything, he was fine with his secret out for one more person.

Unaware of his newfound ambition to just "seal the deal" today and finally take the scary yet exciting step into the future, you continued to talk with your hands out in a cupping position, letting the cold rain water collect in the middle of your hands.

"It's a blessing of this world to the people who lives on soil. It is to refresh both us and the soil, the air and the waters so that humans can live. But..." Slowly lowering them down and watching the water run down over your arms, you fiddled with your hands anxiously, contemplating whether it was okay to say what was in your mind since it was a rather sensitive topic for him, with no one else knowing his true identity or name.

You didn't exactly know when you realized it, or whether you knew from the beginning or not but now that you did... Neuvillette wouldn't spend even one more minute alone anymore, you would make sure that he would be happy and loved and would never feel as if he didn't belong anywhere.

But it seemed Neuvillette was very adamant on hearing the rest of your sentence since he took a step towards you and stared down at you with his chest rising up and down rapidly in anticipation, his breath warming your cheeks by both the hotness of it and also the closeness between you two.

"But what?"

You sighed deeply and looked up at the eyes that decorated most of your dreams and daydreams. Confessing feelings have always been hard, it never got easy even if you were in a different world but if you didn't do this... Neuvillette would never do it in fear of making you uncomfortable with himself.

"It saddens me to know that the Hydro Dragon suffers so much, enough to make it flood."

Well, he definetly wasn't expecting this answer.

Out of anything that might have left your lips, what you chose to say amazed him. There was someone worried about him? Well, you weren't necessarily worried about him. After all, you didn't know (and there was no way for it to happen) that he was the Hydro Dragon and also, the one who was sad almost %99 of the time.

He often felt guilty about not being honest to you, when you spoke about most of the things that happened to you or what you used to do in your world before coming here. But the mind was a complicated system, and often showed its ugly side at times like this one.

It screamed at him often that if you were to know the truth, see his true form ... He would see the horror and disgust on your face that usually looked at him so lovingly and softly...

And it would forever break him.

"I think, compared to all the dragons I had ever faced with... He has the most gentle heart ever! But the kindest hearts often suffer the most, I just hope he has someone to care for him." You smiled kindly and knowingly at him with a raise of your brows as you stared at his own wide ones, hoping the usually clueless man would get the meaning behind your words.

And surprisingly enough, he did... He just wasn't sure if he should say something more or not, whether he got the meaning behind right or not.

Surely, you didn't...

"He does... I think he does have someone." He gave a small smile to the slightly parting sky as he looked up and sighed in content. He was glad he had you in his life, after such a long time in solidarity and absolutely no one to understand him. Even when he was just a little hatchling, with seemingly no one to care for him, his tiny heart at that time craved for it as he travelled through this world, all alone...

But never ever imagined to hear those words that left your lips next, as if they were the confirmation he always needed.

"So... Why are you still crying then?" He widened his eyes as he lifted those reddened ones to your face, droplets of salty water still running down his cheeks as amethyst-colored eyes looked at you in wonder, mouth left open in shock in a little "O" shape.

The childish wonder in his eyes made you soften at him as you shuffled closer to him, and even if he was a lot taller than you, he seemed like a fragile and ready-to-cry-at-any-moment little boy as he grasped your hands thightly that was holding his face delicately, scared that this was all his imagination which would perish as soon as he woke up and he would be left staring at his ceiling with empty eyes.

Your heart burst with love at seeing his face, body shivering from anxiety and cold together as he trembled under your touch but still seeked your comfort and warmth. He nudged your palm with a small smile, content and relaxed for the first time since he no longer needed to hide from you. He sighed onto your hands, your finger tips lightly touching his strand of white hair, swiping them away from his forehead as he leant down to your height and leaned his forehead on yours. Closing his eyes tiredly, he leant his body weight on yours but it didn't bother you and neither was it hard for you to hold him up by hugging his waist...

And he purred, placing a wide and teary smile over your face.

He finally trusts me...

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry... Even if you look pretty while doing so." You teased him softly ( there was true honesty to your words anyways), with adoration evident on your tone as you almost sung those phrases he sometimes heard children say. Your hands rubbed his back softly, drawing circles as the rain started to lower down and tiny specks of light shone on you both.

You sighed out and buried your face to his neck, cheeks smushing on his shoulder as your arms thightened around him as if to shield him from any more harm.

And, the most joyous thing was... He let you. He squeezed your back with equal force and buried his face to your neck, with his lips tingling painfully just to lay a soft and loving kiss there.

Just as many times you affectionately kissed his forehead with praises spilling from your mouth.

"Just as you promised a lot of times... I'll do everything in my power to make you happy, Neuvillette. That is, if you ha-" your hand was idly patting and going through his locks softly, hand scraping along his scalp as your murmurs hit and was absorbed by his greedy skin as he soaked it all up even in the middle of his shock.

How can you even ask such a question when he was ready to give his life for you?

"Yes..." he was already overwhelmed enough with love, and with each word passing your lips... The reality of the situation you two were in had settled.

Finally... Finally, he had you.

His arms thightened around you, voice shaking as if he was the most afraid he ever had been."Please... Don't leave. I don't know if I can live again without you... now that I had a taste of your love and warmth."

You were shocked to hear such a declaration, so passionate yet calm, just like Neuvillette himself. You slightly parted from him to look at his face, knowing his eyes would never betray his words but he was making it difficult by clinging onto you more.

"Is it-" you started anxiously, fearing that it was because of the connection between the Sovereign and the Creator when a scoff left him, nose scrunched up as if you just said the most weird and offensive thing ever known to a man.

"No, It's because you are Y/N... You are the one I love."

And what else of a reason you would need, when he craddled your face so gently and stroked your chin before slowly diving down and kissing you sweetly under the soft rain as the time stopped for you two, and the nature all around Teyvat blossomed and shone with power?

3. I fainted because he was too cute and handsome, especially when he smiled

"You are so handsome when you smile..."

Now, Neuvillette was used to the way you abruptly threw praises and sweet words at hım throughout the day. Sometimes they were agressive as you squeezed his cheeks together and made hım stare in your eyes while you doted on him.

But this one... This one was new, and he wasn't ready to hear it yet.

At least, fast enough to cover his reactions to save himself from more teasing from you.

"Thank you, my love... Though it couldn't compete with your-" he coughed out as his tail swinged happily behind him, internally cursing himself for deciding to use his hybrid form since you begged him that it would only be the two of you in his office and that you wouldn't let anyone enter without asking first.

And he was a fool in love anyways, who always became weak in the knees whenever you asked for something.

Besides, he couldn't lie: Upholding his human form for so long made him itchy and he was really enjoying as you patted and scratched his tail and scales as his very long tail was wrapped around your waist possessively.

"It's so bright and mesmerizing that it brightened my next eternal life for good...." You were brushing his hair and styling it into a high ponytail just because you thought it would suit him, so focused on your task that you didn't realize how his whole body bibrated because of his content and loud purr...

Which soon made you lean over his left shoulder and stare at his face with a loving and teasing smile.

And there it was, the fierce blush that often coated his handsome face whenever you blurted out your intrusive thoughts...

He blinked several times while looking at you with wide eyes, his heart making flips then stopping and doing it once again which made you snort and lean back on the plush chair you pulled behind his own table...

And soon, very soon, his whole face (and you were sure even his chest) was covered in the reddest red ever known as he stumbled over his own words while slightly trembling.

It was cute... But was it normal for him to tremble?

"Neuvillette? Are you... Did I say something out of-" you slightly raised from the chair while holding the handles and put the brush away, ready to assist him when he suddenly shouted out with an embrassed laugh.

"N-No, not at all! I'm fine, better than I've ever been actually!"

He would never dare to make the same mistake he once did when he reacted to your sweet and definetly distracting words. It was bad enough now that it was becoming harder to control himself...

Maybe, you would be down to the idea of a nightly swimming date?

4. I told him what happened to me and he made the city overflow

"Aaand, that's pretty much it... I already forgave them all but... I think I would never forget it."

Talking about what had happened in all the lives you lived, considering all the religious and cult-like trauma, was something hard to do. Especially since it was still a fresh wound that kept opening again and again at the sight of the Archons in your daily life. They still showed themselves to you from time to time, begging for your forgiveness even though Neuvillette himself almost headbutted with the ex-Geo Archon himself, another fellow dragon who was not as strong as him.

Even though you told them that you put all of that in your past, that you forgave them... They just didn't seem satisfied. They wanted to be closer to you, hang out with you and bask in your warmth as well.

Much like a certain someone, who was deadly serious about not leaving you alone with them for more than a few minutes.

But, could anyone really blame him? You were his treasure, his everything, the one he patiently waited for years without straying from his logic.

His soulmate that he never though he had, or could have. You were kind and loving and generous, and him... awkward about most of the things that concerned human nature, clueless, broken and rough around the edges. He, even now, never actually believed he could make you happy like you deserved while having all these flaws, especially whenever those Archons spoke of all the flaws he had and how he wasn't enough... But as you stared up at him any time he got into one of these moods, held his face and kissed his frown and worries away with little whispers of your love, he knew why he was still alive and had to fight for another day.

He spent lonely years by himself with his heart in agony, listening to it crying for the real home for him... And now that he had it, he learnt all the terrible things they did to You, how they all refused to lend a helping hand to someone in need of it without adding the fact that it was the Creator, and everyone expected him to be fine with it?

Hell no.

He just... couldn't wrap his mind around it. How could they, he thought bitterly as you leaned your head to his shoulder innocently, watching the moon shine outside and reflect the light on both of you. Your hand timidly reached out to his, smaller fingers wrapping around his much bigger ones as if you knew very well the emotional turmoil he was in to comfort him though it was him who was supposed to do that for you.

And it made him even more guilty as he leant his head on your own, as selfish as it seemed to him for seeking such thing from you at your vulnerable state.

How could they almost destroy such a cheerful, happy and kind person? Our Creator?... My love?

You were always the sunshine of wherever you entered, an eye-catching presence in the usually gloomy and calm City of Fontaine. Even when you first came, before seeking refugee and begging Furina to listen to you... You were still kind enough to stop and help a child find her mother, help a lost melusine out ( you later learnt it was Puca, who would grow on you later when she re-approached you with a necklace of sea-shells and offered them to you timidly), and even bring joy to the water in their city so much so that there wasn't a stormy or gloomy day ever. And that was enough for everyone, alongside the golden scars across your arms, that you were their true Creator.

Besides, Neuvillette didn't have to listen to what Furina had to say, the primal dragon in him was already roaring, growling and trashing inside at the other stupid Archons who dared to touch you, to hurt you. How could they, it yelled in his mind often as the loyal dragon it is to the Creator, connected with a deep sense of loyalty and... love. That dragon side of him purred loudly and softly whenever you seeked him amongst a crowd, or simply sitting with him.

The fact that it was him who you felt safe with made both him and the dragon proud and happy, so much so that if he could use his half-hybrid form, which he was already doing it a lot thanks to you, his tail would be flicking back and forth much like a puppy.

He might not be the best with emotions, with them being especially more complicated with humans and all. He might have not understood what pain, heartbreak and even anger meant but there was one thing clear:

Something in his chest broke so wildly, so loudly and stung his heart so harshly at the sight of your tears that the air in his lungs were punched, and made him silently choke on his own tears.

"Never will you ever feel scared, unsafe and unloved, Your Grace... I will make sure of it." He gently craddled your face between his much larger and slightly calloused, naked hands after finally, finally finding his voice back even if it left his lips in a raspy and wavering way with arms squuezing your body thightly. But you didn't mind it, all you could ever need was here anyways...

Except...

"Not that..." he hummed in confusion with a tilt of his head, the blue streaks of his hair tickling your face softly as you giggled and buried yourself deeper to his chest.

"I don't like it when you call me that..."

"Then what would you like me to call you, my love?" You grinned with joy as you bonked your head with his, another affectionate yet cute gesture he learnt you did whenever you were full of excitement and love. Trying to be silent, so that your army of daughters didn't wake up from next doors, you pushed him on the bed you two shared, hand on his sturdy chest as you stared down at his flushed cheeks and flustered eyes at your sudden dominance.

What a sight it was to have the ever stoic Chief Justice, the Hydro Sovereign under your mercy like this, all pretty and yours...

"I like that one better actually. Can you say it again?" You tilted your head cutely with a smile, your sadness from before long forgotten as his eyes softened at you from below you,happy that he was at least able to do that for you. His hand slowly trailed up your waist, to your back and softly craddled your face with his naked hands, hands rubbing your cheeks oh so lovingly as he uttered those sweet names to you slowly, with no rush at all with closed eyes and a loving smile.

"My love..."

"Again..." you breath got caught in your throat as the sudden rush of love and safety overwhelmed you, the man you loved from the beginning uttering and declaring his love to your skin was both too much and not enough.

Not when you unforfunately were deprived of such thing in both worlds.

More, more, I need to hear it more...

"my precious, most beautiful and one and only love..." he slowly pushed himself up on his elbow with the help of his hand on the bed, thightly holding your neck with a promise on his tongue. He was an ancient being with even more ancient thoughts on courting and loving someone. If a dragon loved someone, and devoted themselves to that person once... That was it. No more turning back, no more being lonely, no more suffering. The dragon would make sure their mate was well-fed, safe and happy with them and that no harm would ever come to them ever again, even if the dragon died.

And that dragon side of him was insperable from him after all and therefore, he was eternally yours to have, to be your sworn protector.

Those who treats his family badly would suffer the worst consequence ever...

But for now, he would only kiss your tears away, run his hands across every single scar that told another story and was left unhealed for so long.

I'll fight with everything, move the whole Teyvat upside down and rip through everyone with sharp and protective claws who dared to hurt you and take you away from him.

Not when I had been waiting for you for millenias and just now had you.

"My treasure... You are not alone. You will have me for as long as you want."

He wanted to say everything his heart desired to do but right now, at this vulnerable moment for you as you both laid naked... This was enough.

His arms around you thight was enough.

His deep voice declaring his absolute adoration and devotion to you, bringing you close to tears was enough.

The soft raining outside, making a knowing smile appear on your adorable face smushed to his chest was enough.

Your loving kiss right where his heart was enough.

He and his love was enough.

That is until he learnt in the morning that he accidently made the city overflow deep at night while crying silently to himself for you, thinking you were asleep, but bury himself deep in the sheets while you laughed at hım first thing in the morning and he almost cried tears of frustration at you again.

5. I love him

He gave his true name.

Slowly, very timidly, he brought his hand closer to yours on his face and took a hold of the softness of it with his own glowed hands. This was one of the things he loved to do the most, caressing your hands and rubbing the tips of your finger before kissing every inch of it, showing them the love no one did and could never do.

Not when your heart, skin, body and soul only knew him.

To him, your hands were divine in more than one way. They created life and helped people around, they were what patted the head of the young ones, what helped a little babe who fell on their bum and looked at you with glossy eyes, they were what showed your kindness and love to everyone and everything even after all they did, ever the unworthy ones of such love...

They were what you used to comfort him with your warmth, at long and painful nights as the sky roared with thunders and rain and he was guilt-striken at the thought of people judging him and uttering harsh words to the "Hydro Dragon".

Those were the especially hardest nights for him, marred with the images of you and his "daughters" injured and dying... His mind screaming, torturing with those images and the painful screams, mocking him for not being enough, powerful enough to save those closest to hım as everything drowned him.

Not enough...

You couldn't even save the one you love...

Failure...

Their deaths are on you-

It's okay not to be okay, my love...

But your soft voice, laced with utter devotion and love for him, was always what made it all better as he laid across your chest and hugged you thightly while your hands played with his silky locks. Sometimes, he wondered if you were reading his mind since you always knew when he was down. It was absolutely amazing yet, you were amazing too.

With ot without being the Creator.

Much like the first time he knew his every being now belongt to you, that his heart had fallen for you beyond your title, because you trully loved him for who he was, it fell again and again even more with each passing day.

His heart fell even deeper in love whenever you shyly entered his office to have a hug before dealing with the problems of Teyvat and other realms, saying that his hugs were really relaxing to which he silently teared up, brought him food and ate with hım since he forgot to eat regularly which pissed you off and he would make it up to you by kissing you, whenever you excitedly pointed to a place to have a sudden date with him while strolling in the Fontaine...

And therefore, the last thing he would give to you... would be the sign and show of his utter loyalty and trust.

Himself and his true name, as he proposed to be yours for eternity.

"Will you accept someone like me to be your eternity, Your Grace?"

With happy tears in your eyes as you nodded and jumped on him, which made him fall back on his ass and laugh freely he kissed every part of your body and uttered öne last thank you.

"Thank you for loving me no matter what..."

A soft laugh as you looked up towards the sky which had a soft rain under bright sun, a great show of the feelings Neuvillette was feeling, you kissed him deep once more, much like the first time you kissed.

"Thank you for being you, for letting me love you, my husband... I love you." You nuzzled closer to him with a wide grin as you both laughed while he twirled you happily as the melusines cheered and cried in joy, the waters around you two bursting up towards the sky and creating a feast for eyes with bright colors.

The people cheered in the distance, made new offerings to you and your new husband in happiness and gratitude for being able to witness this day...

But all you needed, all your eyes would see and all your heart would feel was right between your arms... In the form of the Hydro Dragon Sovereign, with pretty amethyst eyes that reflected you and gave you hope when you almost lost it and soft hairs of blue and pearly white that was entangled between your fingers as your lips found his passionately.

[heartlesscorpse]

Pyramid Head thoughts 🩸🔪 △

Catering this to myself and my hornee NEEDS and anybody else’s ig because I’m a dirty boy rn and I have too many thoughts in my head revolving around my man and I need to spill my guts before I lose this precious brain rot. Oh yeah this got some nsfw shit (it’s gonna be like further down) so be sure to read at your risk, and don’t mind the occasional out of context shit bc that’s just my comments and me giggling so hard abt this fine mfer— this was pretty fun to make too ngl, I might do more in the future if I ever get anymore ideas from things or from people, Idk we’ll see.

Pyramid Head’s possessive asf over his s/o, when you’re living inside a hellhole of a town full of monsters and a cult run by a bunch of lunatics, who else is gonna protect your ass none other than this 7’0” deity??? Man wouldn’t even hesitate to kill anybody or anything that came way too close to you.

Man’s not even gonna let you out of his sight for a second, wherever the hell you’re going he’s coming with you, you’re a fragile little thing after all. He doesn’t want anything bad happening to you, not on his watch.

The size diff between you and Pyramid Head is endearing as well as arousing just thinking about how he could manhandle you into any positions he wants and watch you struggle to take him in. You’re just so short compared to him, he finds it cute. <3

It’s fun to carry you around everywhere he goes because of how short you are compared to him. Doesn’t matter if you get a say in this or not, he’s gonna carry you whenever the hell he pleases and he’ll never let go.

Pyramid Head would’ve associated you with the colour white and some times gives you white clothing because you’re pure and the only non-sinner in this shit hole of a town.

Who the fuck needs a bed when you have Pyramid Head??? Hell, he’d probably prefer you to sleep on top of him so he could hold you in your sleep and protect you from all the dangers of Silent Hill. Not to mention he’d like the feeling of how squishy you are in his embrace, particularly your thighs, he likes wrapping his hands on them and squishing them gently in your sleep. Might be a form of comfort saying “I’m here, everything’s okay”, or he’s just admiring them. Who would’ve thought a large monster living on violence and inflicting pain on sinners would be so gentle with you? (Unless you wanted him to roughen you up a little of course then by all means, he’ll fuckin’ do it.) >:))

Because Pyramid Head only exists in Silent Hill and doesn’t know a lot about the outside world, it’s rather adorable watching him get all confused with that head tilt of his whenever you explain certain things to him couples do on a regular basis besides sex, but he does show some curiosity on said topic and possibly willing to do those things with you as well.

Pyramid Head enjoys receiving attention from you, be it either hugs from behind or give him kisses on his helmet or the tongue— anywhere else is prolly gonna give him some other ideas of sorts, rnskfbsjfbw.

OH BOY the fucking dirty brain rot persists. If this man ever happened to be feeling horny he honestly wouldn’t hesitate taking your clothes off in one tear the second he has your consent.

Did I mention abt the size diff last time? Making you take in his cock nice and slow isn’t gonna do much, he’d want you to get over with the pain fairly quick so he’ll just push it in without warning lmao, of course once he’s in, he’ll allow you a brief moment to adjust to his size and once you’re all good he’s going to pound the fucking daylights out of you.

AGAIN WITH THE SIZE DIFF it’s just so satisfying and enjoyable to him watching you writhing and moaning underneath him like that, accounting to that just seeing you stuffed full of his come and utterly blissed out is adorable. (Like man I— let him rail me already PLEASEE)

And he’s for sure going to tease the fuck out of you to overstimulation until your mind is nothing but a puddle of mush and you’re begging for him. <33

Aftercare in the end is amazing, he’ll help clean you up by fucking eating you out with his tongue and then he’ll lay there with you in his arms, with a blanket big enough pulled over top to cover the both of you while you snuggle up in the mean time. A possible guarantee you’re gonna have a blast trying to walk in the morning./j

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

[silassinclair]

Introduction!! Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader

CONTENT WARNING: Guns, Violence, Fem Reader, For 16+ Readers Preferably (Ik i cant stop you younger little shits from being here)

Mayor John L/n should have known better than to attract the attention of Maddox Graves; the West's number one most wanted criminal and outlaw. But Y/n L/n's Father, John L/n, is a fool.

It all started when John L/n rode into town on his fine horse. Tonight he was going to drink at the bar and chat with the other townspeople about some small town drama. When John arrived outside the saloon however he noticed all of the posts had horses tied to them already. John looks around and sees a free spot! Just as John hopped off his horse to tie the rope around the wood post another man beat him too it.

The man shoulder checked John as he tied his black horse to the post.

“Hey I was about to tie my horse there you brute! And how dare you hit me!” John says angrily.

"I had my horse tied here first old man. Go find some place else to tie yours." The Mexican American man says; his accented voice rich and deep. The bottom half of his face is concealed by a dark red bandana. His cowboy hat is a dark brown color, a contrast to the black attire he adorns.

"Do you know who I am young man? I own this town! Now get your filthy horse out of my way before I teach you a lesson!" Mayor L/n shouts aggressively.

The outlaw frowns disapprovingly under the cloth of his bandana. This greedy old fart dare insult his stallion? And threaten him?

The outlaw brings his masked face close to the older man, making the older man back up nervously. Bringing his rugged hands to his hips the outlaw moves his long black leather jacket to the side, revealing one of his two revolvers. Each revolver being a stunning silver color with black metal engravings. No other gunman in the west had such weapons, no one other than Maddox Graves.

The mayor notices the shining gun and he gasps in fear for his life. "Those guns! Y-You’re M-Maddox Graves!" He shouts in newfound fright.

"That's right old man. You fucked with the wrong guy. Telling me to move my horse and insulting him in such a way? You're a real old fart I tell ya. Ya had some real balls o’ steel to threaten me too." The outlaw says as he pats the back of his midnight black stallion.

The mayor doesn’t waste a second as he goes to his horse as quick as possible. He gets on it's saddle to ride off. Luckily, he escapes the outlaw. However the outlaw already knows where the mayor lives.

And he will not let him get away with what he has done. No one disrespects Maddox Graves unless they want to end up in their own grave.

.

.

.

"Father? Are you alright?" A young woman says. The woman's name is Y/n L/n, and she's the one and only daughter of Mayor John L/n. In this shit stain of a small town that is on the bottom corner of maps, she brings light and joy. The townspeople adore her presence and work ethic. Though she is wealthy and the daughter of the mayor she does volunteer work in local farms and helps look after the town’s children.

Though Y/n L/n has no Mother, not anymore. So John L/n protects her with his life. She’s all he has left and he may have just lost her tonight for what he has done.

"How can I be so foolish?! Oh god what have I done!" The old man says in despair as he rushes over to his daughter. He embraces her in a desperate hug which she returns gently with a pat to his sweating back.

"Father whatever is the matter? What has you in such a stress?" She asks with genuine concern.

The old man holds her plush face gently in his wrinkled palms. He gazes into her eyes, for it may be the final time he get to do so.

"I have made a mistake Y/n... I insulted a dangerous outlaw and he may come here to our home. I need you to hide okay... Whatever you hear, do not leave your hiding spot."

Y/n feels her Father tremble. "Father I don't understand! Please whatever it is let me hel-"

"NO! I CAN HEAR HIS HORSE OUTSIDE! GO UPSTAIRS AND HIDE NOW!"

The poor young woman yelps as her Father pushes her away. She is about to argue but the desperation in his eyes makes her only nod and run up the stairs and do as she's told. Y/n goes to her bedroom and opens the door to her oak wardrobe. She hides behind a few gowns and shuts the door enough for there to be a crack.

There are sounds of talking downstairs. Y/n can hear the voice of her Father and another. The other voice is deeper and strikes fear into her core. She can hear how desperate her Father is as he pleads for his life.

“You got a little girl right? Would be a shame if she lost her Father.” The deep voice says.

“Yes! So please spare me Graves! I’ll give you money, anything you want! So please leave us in peace!” The old man begs on his knees.

“Hmmm.” The dark outlaw ponders.

BANG

Y/n covers her mouth as she yelps in horror at the sound of the gunshot. Her body trembled, the silence now was frightening. No longer did she hear the sound of her Father begging for his life. All that was left was a deadly silence.

Her Father was dead.

“Come out girl! Your Father isn’t dead~ He’s just sleeping.” Maddox taunts as he blows the smoke from the end of his gun before returning it to its holster.

Tears fell from Y/n’s eyes as she struggled to steady her breathing. She could hear his footsteps ascending the stairs. Slow, and taunting. He was taking his time.

“I don’t like playing games. Now come out before I kill you.”

The hiding woman refused to make a sound. Her survival instinct made her once trembling body as still as a statue when she heard his footsteps enter her room. She felt frozen as his steps stopped right outside the closet door.

“I know you’re in here little girl. Now come out.”

She didn’t.

“Okay, you asked me to do this.”

Light flooded into the wardrobe as Maddox nearly ripped the doors off the hinges from swinging it open so hard and fast. Inside he heard the scream of a woman and suddenly a boot clad foot coming out from behind gowns kicked him in the groin. Keeling over in pain he clutched his jewels and fell on his knees.

“OO- YOU BITCH!” He yells. His eyes widen when he sees her though. She peeks her head out from behind the dresses and gowns. Her face is soft and stained with dry tears. Rather than a young girl who he thought, it was a pretty woman who looked to be a few years younger than him.

“You’re a disgusting man!” She says angrily and runs out of the closet past the kneeling outlaw. Dashing down the stairs she sees her Father on the ground, bleeding from his side.

“Father!” She calls to him desperately as she kneels by his side and cradles his head. He’s still breathing, thank god. But he’s losing a lot of blood. So Y/n grabs the hem of her dress and tears off a strip of the fabric and ties it around his torso.

“I-I’ll run to town and call for a doctor Father.” She says with a weak smile. His eyes are closed, he seems to have passed out from shock.

Just as Y/n stood up to run out the door to get help a gunshot rings out and the bullet hits the doorknob she was just about the grab. Whipping her body back in shock she looks up and sees Maddox at the top of the staircase, his smoking gun aimed at her.

“You’re a wild one aren’t you missy?” He says with a smirk. A freshly lit cigar hangs from his mouth.

Y/n stands by the door as still as a statue as Maddox comes down the stairs. Now standing before her the height difference is very stark. Her head only reaches his shoulders.

“Let me leave… My Father is dying. I need to get to a doctor.” She says with a wavering voice.

Maddox blows smoke in her face and laughs.

“He may as well be already dead girly. He’s lost a lot of blood. And besides, even if you did make it to town you would come home to him dead. There ain’t enough time for dilly-dally.”

He was right, unfortunately. Y/n tried her best to hold back her tears. She had to stay strong, she couldn’t show weakness to this bloodthirsty killer. But she could only handle so much.

She looks behind the outlaw and sees her Father grow more pale as the seconds tick by. The moment she noticed her Father’s chest still… and a final breath escape his lips.. Y/n felt like her life was over. Her Father was dead. All hope is lost for her as she crumbles like an ancient statue.

“F-Father, my Father is dead! You killed him-!” She breaks down and grips her hair in her hands, sinking to the floor. Maddox only watches with a small grin as he tosses the cigar to the side.

“He was an old man who was gon’ kick the bucket soon anyway. I only sped up the process a lil’ princess.” Maddox says with a mocking coo. But Y/n looks up at him with a piercing glare. Her hands turn to fists and she strikes. Her fist collides with his face, causing him to whip his head to the side. Y/n stills as she awaits his reaction. He is eerily silent and his downcast gaze is dark.

But then she is suddenly met with a chuckle. His deep, rich laugh radiates throughout the home. Like an infection that invades the young woman’s eardrums. She can’t stand it.

“You hit hard little lady, I like that in a woman.” Maddox grips her chin, squeezing her face and puckering her lips.

“Such soft lips… Wonder how they’d feel against mine. Poor lil thang like you needs a strong man in her life.” His condescending tone sparks rage in Y/n. This man, no… this beast. This murderer. She needs to take revenge. To kill the man who killed her Father in cold blood. But not now. No, she would have to wait. She needs the right moment to strike.

And she doesn’t mind playing the long game. She’ll play along for now.

Hey yall, it’s me. I’m SLACKING so hard. School and work has been busting my balls and writers block is eating me alive. But this Oc got me out of the gutter. Hopefully yall like him! I plan to write for him more.

[tatumrileyslover]

i absolutely adored your amber fic, I was hoping you could write a tara x reader (with an established relationship) where she’s the first to arrive to see her at the hospital arriving long before the others? maybe tara could have been texting her during the attack?

Solace

☆〜Pairings: Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

☆〜Genre: Hurt/Comfort, angst, slight fluff

☆〜Word Count: 5.7k

☆〜Warnings: mentions of pet death, ghost face attack, blood, stabbing, hospitals, violence, language

☆〜Authors Note: I did NOT intend for this fic to be almost 6k words long, I literally have work tomorrow and it’s four am. You Tara Carpenter hoes gonna love this one, also the sheer amount of words making my tumblr lag so much

☆〜 Sequel: Redemption

Laying spread out on her couch, (Y/n) sighed in contentment. Tonight, their long-awaited date finally materialized as a beacon of hope after countless cancellations. The first time was due to Tara catching a stomach virus, and the second was cancelled when (Y/n) had a family emergency. Praying to any deities she could think of, that tonight would go exactly as planned, Tara had procured the snacks and (Y/n) scoured her parent's old stash of movies to find something good to watch.

As the golden hues of the Californian sun gently descended, casting a warm glow that seeped through the curtains of the living room, (Y/n) gazed out the window. Outside, the autumnal symphony of colors unfolded, as leaves gracefully danced in the breeze, their descent creating a delicate tapestry upon the porch. " I should get going," she groaned to herself, not ready to leave the comfort of her home, but eager to see Tara nonetheless. They were two souls who found solace in each other's embrace, navigating the highs and lows with unwavering support. Their mothers said the two were like two puzzle pieces perfectly aligned, they fit together in seamless harmony. Where you'd find one, you'd find the other.

Moving swiftly toward the coffee table where her phone rested, (Y/n) snatched it up and eagerly turned it over, her eyes darting across the screen in anticipation. Amongst the sea of notifications, a particular text caught her eye, demanding her immediate attention.

Tara:

hey any way we can resched movie night? ambers planning to come over

(Y/n)’s heart plummeted as disappointment crashed over her like a relentless wave. Not again. This week had been filled with one hardship after another, and the movie night had been the single gleaming light that had kept her going. She felt the weight of her emotions welling up, threatening to spill over as tears pooled in her eyes.

It hadn't escaped (Y/n)'s notice that something was amiss between Tara and herself. Lately, their once vibrant connection had dimmed, leaving behind an unsettling silence. Tara's responses to her texts were delayed, leaving them unread for what felt like an eternity, only to receive curt and simple replies. Their nightly calls, once filled with laughter and heartfelt conversations, had dwindled to mere whispers of their former selves.

(Y/n) had tried to attribute Tara's behavior to exam stress, desperately clinging to the hope that it was a passing phase. But deep down, a gnawing doubt lingered, as if an invisible force was eroding the foundation of their relationship. It was a silent ache that chipped away at her sense of security, whispering the possibility of something more significant beneath the surface.

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) wrestled with her conflicted thoughts, battling between wanting to confront the issue head-on and fearing the answers that lay beyond. As tears streaked down her cheeks, she realized that the movie night had symbolized more than just a chance to unwind—it had become a symbol of the dwindling connection she desperately longed to reignite.

In the midst of her turmoil, the sadness transformed to rage.

(Y/n):

Seriously tar

(Y/n):

Istg we’ve been planning this night for months now

(Y/n):

I seriously need you right now, we haven’t hung out in so long and you want to cancel on me

Determined to break the silence and confront the anguish that consumed her, (Y/n) resolved to make Tara fully aware of the pain she was inflicting. She refused to suffer in the darkness any longer, vowing to express the depth of her emotions and lay bare the impact of Tara's actions on their relationship.

With bated breath, (Y/n) watched the notification indicating that Tara had read her text. Her eyes fixated on the screen, heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, as she anxiously awaited the telltale signs of Tara's response. The seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, every passing moment fueling her need for a reply, a sign that their connection still held a glimmer of hope.

Tara:

I’m sorry but ambers been having a bad day

In an explosion of fiery emotions, (Y/n)'s anger consumed her. The realization that Tara had prioritized a friend's well-being over her own girlfriend's struck a nerve deep within her. How could Tara fail to show even a shred of concern for what (Y/n) had endured throughout the week? The flames of resentment burned brightly, fueled by the perception that Tara lacked the basic decency to make an effort to understand and support her partner. (Y/n) yearned for acknowledgment, for Tara to see the depth of her pain and recognize the importance of their connection.

With each passing second, the fire within (Y/n) raged on, threatening to consume everything in its path. The time for silence and complacency was over. (Y/n) vowed to confront Tara, to unleash the inferno of her feelings and demand the respect and consideration she deserved.

(Y/n):

What about your own fucking girlfriend huh?

(Y/n):

Do you even know what the fuck happened to me this week!

(Y/n):

No you don’t, because it’s always Amber this, Amber that, Amber Amber Amber

Tara:

R u being serious rn

(Y/n):

my dog died on Monday

(Y/n):

it’s Saturday Tara

(Y/n):

and you didn’t even know because you aren’t even talking to me anymore.

(Y/n) let out a heavy sigh, frustration and hurt weighing heavily on her shoulders. She tossed her phone onto the couch, its screen illuminating the room for a moment before sinking into the soft cushions. She buried her head in her hands, seeking solace in the darkness, hoping that this act of vulnerability would finally make Tara realize the profound impact of her actions.

As (Y/n)'s fingers interlaced, a subtle vibration traveled through the cushions beside her. Startled, she lifted her head and turned her gaze toward the source of the unexpected movement. A flicker of hope sparked within her, wondering if perhaps Tara had sensed the gravity of the situation and was reaching out in response.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, (Y/n) reached for her phone, hoping to find a message from Tara that would acknowledge the pain she had caused and signal a willingness to address the underlying issues.

Tara:

Milos dead?

As tears streamed down her face, (Y/n)'s heart sank deeper into despair. The painful truth hit her with a forceful blow—Tara hadn't even acknowledged her feelings, let alone shown remorse for the hurt she had caused. In that moment, (Y/n) realized the difficult decision she needed to make.

Her fingers trembled as she wiped away the tears, a newfound determination taking root within her. It became clear that she couldn't continue in a relationship where her needs went unacknowledged and her emotions were dismissed. (Y/n) understood that she deserved someone who would put in the effort, who would cherish and respect her.

With a heavy yet resolute sigh, (Y/n) made up her mind. She would give Tara the space to figure herself out, to confront her own shortcomings and decide if she was willing to put in the effort required to mend their fractured bond. (Y/n) knew that she deserved a partner who would meet her halfway, who would prioritize their love and demonstrate genuine care.

As she made this decision, a bittersweet sense of liberation washed over (Y/n). It was a painful realization, but also a necessary one. She was prepared to step back, to let Tara find her own way, and to focus on healing herself in the process. With newfound clarity, she resolved to no longer tolerate being taken for granted.

(Y/n):

Tara I think we should take a break

Tara:

WHAT

Tara:

(Y/n) you can’t be serious

Tara:

We need to talk about this in person

Tara:

Come over I’ve told Amber to stay home

(Y/n):

we’ll talk on monday

With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) flipped her phone over and gently placed it back on the couch cushion. The persistent buzzing continued for a couple of minutes before gradually fading into silence. As she sat cross-legged on the floor, her gaze fixated on the plain wall before her, her mind swirled with a mixture of emotions.

In an effort to divert her thoughts, (Y/n) decided to immerse herself in a familiar and comforting activity. Rising from the floor, she made her way to the kitchen with determined steps. As she gathered the ingredients for baking cookies, the room filled with the sweet and nostalgic aroma that enveloped her senses.

With each measured scoop and gentle mix, (Y/n) found solace in the rhythmic process of creating something warm and inviting. The familiar motions of baking temporarily transported her to cherished memories of love and comfort, memories intertwined with moments shared with Tara. It was bittersweet, a reminder of the love they had once shared and the warmth that had brought them together.

As the cookies began to bake, filling the air with an irresistible scent, (Y/n) couldn't help but be caught in a swirl of conflicting emotions. The aroma wrapped around her, providing a temporary respite from the pain and uncertainty. Yet, within that comforting scent, lay memories of the love and connection she and Tara had once shared. It was a bittersweet reminder of what they had lost, but also a glimmer of the love that still lingered in her heart.

As (Y/n) carefully laid the freshly baked cookie onto the cooling rack, her mind drifted into a melodic trance. Humming a tune that played on repeat in her head, she found solace in the rhythmic melody. Lost in the sweet moment, her worries momentarily faded away.

However, her blissful reverie was abruptly interrupted by the persistent buzzing of her phone. Buzz, buzz, buzz. The sound echoed through the room, piercing the tranquility she had cultivated. (Y/n) let out a weary sigh, wondering what urgent message or notification could demand her attention at this moment.

Her playful imagination offered a lighthearted explanation, imagining that Mindy must be spamming her with updates about a newly announced horror movie. The thought brought a small giggle to her lips, a brief respite from the emotional heaviness that weighed upon her.

Curiosity piqued, (Y/n) reached for her phone, eager to discover the nature of the buzzes that had disrupted her peaceful interlude. With a mix of anticipation and amusement, she unlocked the screen, preparing herself for the unexpected and hoping for a welcome distraction from her swirling emotions.

Tara:

there’s some psycho calling me

Tara:

I answered an unknown number they know my name

Tara:

Shit

Tara:

I’ve locked my doors

Tara:

Please come over asap

Tara:

i can’t leave cars with my mom

Tara:

He’s fucking calling again

Tara:

Ambers acting weird

Tara:

False alarm maybe?

Tara:

She’s telling me to answer it

Tara:

(Y/n) seriously get your ass over here, the creeps using her phone, they knew when the landline was ringing

Tara:

I’m seriously freaking out right now

(Y/n)'s body went rigid with a chilling dread as the series of alarming texts from Tara unfolded before her eyes. Panic surged through her veins, and she knew she had to act swiftly. With a sense of urgency, she scrambled to put on her shoes, her fingers trembling as she hastily laced them up.

Her mind raced, consumed by a growing sense of unease. The cryptic messages from Tara painted a haunting picture of a dangerous situation unfolding. (Y/n)'s heart pounded, propelled by both fear for Tara's safety and a desperate need to unravel the mystery that now threatened them.

She frantically searched the couch cushions, her hands darting between the crevices, determined to find the misplaced car keys that held the key to her escape. Time seemed to slip through her fingers, each passing second amplifying the urgency of the situation.

Finally, her fingers closed around the cool metal of the car keys, and a flicker of hope ignited within her. With a gasp of relief, she pulled them free, clutching them tightly in her trembling hand. There was no time to waste.

(Y/n) dashed toward the door, her heart racing like a drumbeat of adrenaline. The gravity of Tara's messages resonated within her, spurring her forward with unwavering determination. She needed to reach Tara's side, to offer comfort, protection, and an unwavering presence in the face of their shared fear.

Sitting in the front seat of her car, (Y/n)'s hands trembled as she realized the urgency of letting Tara know she was on her way to help. With swift determination, she typed out a message,

(Y/n):

Omw gimme 5 mins I’ll call cops otw

Before she could even start the engine Tara had replied

Tara:

Hurry

Amber:

ANSWER THE PHONE OR AMBER DIES

Tara's heart raced as she sprinted towards the ringing landline, a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Every fiber of her being was driven by the desperate need to save her friend from whatever horrors were lurking on the other end of the line. She knew her girlfriend, was already on her way, determined to reach her side as quickly as humanly possible, speeding down the suburban streets, driven by an urgent need to make the ten-minute drive shorter.

With trembling hands, Tara snatched the receiver from its cradle, her voice filled with anger and defiance as she spoke into the phone, “This isn’t fucking funny Amber!”

The voice that emanated from the other end of the line sent a chill down Tara's spine. It was a voice shrouded in mystery, draped in a tone that seemed to drip with a malevolent aura. It held an eerie calmness, devoid of any warmth or humanity, as if it existed solely to strike fear into her heart.

As the words, “I told you, this isn’t Amber,”resonated through the receiver, the voice carried a bone-chilling quality. It was a voice that sent a shiver racing down Tara's back, conjuring images of hidden dangers and unseen terrors. There was an unsettling cadence to the voice, a calculated rhythm that left no doubt that it was intended to provoke fear and uncertainty.

Tara's immediate internal fear intensified in response. The realization that the voice on the other end of the line was not who she initially assumed filled her with a sense of dread. It was a realization that shattered any lingering hope of this being a mere misunderstanding or prank. Instead, it emphasized the presence of an unknown figure, one with malicious intentions and a voice that resonated with a menacing power.

In that moment, Tara's fear became palpable, her instincts urging her to take caution and be on guard.

Tara's heart skipped a beat as a message flashed across her phone screen. Her trembling hands reached for the device, and with a mixture of curiosity and dread, she opened the message. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the video that unfolded before her.

Amber, caught in an intimate moment, unaware of the malevolent presence that lurked just outside her bedroom window. The chilling voice that narrated the video through the crackling receiver broke the silence, dripping with a sarcastic tone that sent a shiver down Tara's spine.

As the video played, Tara's breath hitched, her mind reeling with the realization that Amber’s phone had been cloned. How long had she been talking to this unknown psycho for? She felt exposed, vulnerable, and at the mercy of an unknown adversary who had found a way to infiltrate her most personal moments.

“What do you want?” Tara quivered, unsure of what the voice wanted from her.

“I told you, I want to play a game,”

“Stab movie trivia,”

The malevolent figure had known she didn’t know anything about the Stab franchise, just moments before, she had confessed to only watching the first movie—and even then, it was at a sleepover six years ago—Tara felt a wave of panic wash over her as the weight of her predicament settled in her chest. The options before her seemed daunting: she could reach out to the authorities, but the looming threat of immediate harm or worse, death, loomed over her. The malevolent figure had made it clear that any wrong move, any misstep, would have dire consequences for Amber.

Her mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmarish scenario. She felt the weight of the Stab franchise's intricate details and plot twists bearing down on her, her limited knowledge leaving her vulnerable to the malevolent figure's sadistic game. The questions that awaited her were poised like traps, ready to ensnare her and seal Amber's tragic fate.

“Question one, who wrote the original books that the Stab movies are based on?”

Tara's mind raced as she desperately tried to recollect her memories. A book? The details were hazy, fading remnants of a distant recollection. She racked her brain, grasping for any shred of information that could help her in this dire situation. In a moment of clarity, a name burst forth from the depths of her memory.

"Th-the chick from TV," she stammered, her voice quivering. "Oh, Gale Weathers! It's Gale Weathers, you motherfucker!"

A chilling silence hung in the air, interrupted only by the masked figure's sinister chuckle. "Correct," the voice responded, dripping with a perverse satisfaction. "Amber might live to see the sunrise."

“Question two, who played the dumb bitch in the beginning of Stab one, who answers the phone and gets carved up by the killer?”

Tara’s hands quivered, the voice speaking almost mockingly to her situation, she never thought such an innocent phone call would end up like this, “fuck you!” She whispered quietly.

“Is that the answer you’re going with?”

Tara's sobs escaped her lips, a mixture of fear and frustration enveloping her. Time was slipping away, and the pressure to find the answer mounted with each tick of the taunting noises in the background. Desperation fueled her actions as she hastily pulled out her phone, fingers trembling as she searched for the cast list of Stab.

The voice on the other end of the line relished in her panic, using the ticking noises to remind her of the ever-dwindling seconds. Tara's eyes darted across the screen, her fingers swiping frantically, searching for that one crucial detail she needed. Where was it? The pressure weighed heavily upon her, pushing her to the brink.

"Heather Graham!" she blurted out, her voice quivering with a mix of uncertainty and hope. It was the answer that had come to mind, a name she hoped was associated with the first Stab movie. In that fleeting moment, she clung to the belief that her response was correct, that it would be enough to keep Amber safe.

A pause hung in the air, the voice on the other end relishing in the suspense. Then, a response echoed through the phone line. "Correct," the voice acknowledged, a sinister satisfaction lacing its tone. "Now, the final question: Who was the killer in Stab one?"

Tara almost sighed in relief, her voice laced with a mix of distress and defiance. "Oh, I know this one, you fuck!" Her words carried a defiant edge, fueled by a surge of determination. With a swallowed gulp, she didn't hesitate to provide her answer. "It's Billy Loomis! He's Sidney's boyfriend, and he was played by Luke Wilson. I've got you, asshole!"

An air of relief and triumph began to creep into Tara's voice, ready to celebrate her victory over the voice that had tormented her. She was certain of her answer, convinced that she had outsmarted the sinister figure on the other end of the line. "I've got it!"

A chilling silence hung in the air before the voice delivered a shocking response. "Oh, I'm sorry, Tara, but that's just not correct."

Tara's look of relief crumbled, replaced by a mix of confusion and growing concern. Doubt gnawed at her as she attempted to double-check her answer, her fingers frantically navigating through her phone. How could she have been so wrong? Billy Loomis was the killer, wasn't he?

"The correct answer is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher," the voice coldly explained, reveling in its control over the situation. "There are two killers in the original Stab. I'm afraid someone's gotta die now."

With a surge of adrenaline, Tara rushed towards the front door, her sole focus on saving Amber's life. Her trembling hands fumbled with the lock, desperately trying to unlock it and swing the door open. As the door swung wide, her path was abruptly blocked by a figure standing in the doorway, clad in the iconic Stab Ghostface costume. The sight sent chills down her spine.

In the intruder's hand gleamed a knife, its blade poised for attack, slashing at her side. Fear coursed through Tara's veins, but she refused to let it paralyze her. Summoning her courage, she lashed out, delivering a powerful punch aimed at the intruder's face. The blow momentarily stunned the masked figure, giving Tara a brief moment of respite.

Seizing the opportunity, she pushed against the door with all her might, attempting to shut it on the intruder. A grunt escaped her lips as she exerted every ounce of strength, her body pressed against the door. However, the relentless assailant's gloved hand snaked through the narrowing crack, the glint of a hunter knife threateningly waving in the air.

With a final burst of effort, Tara managed to force the intruder out and swiftly locked the door from the inside. Trembling and gasping for breath, she clutched at her pouring wound, tears streaming down her face in hysterics. Despite the pain and fear overwhelming her, she managed to summon the presence of mind to activate the home security system, a desperate attempt to fortify herself against any further intrusion.

The deafening bangs against the front door reverberated through the house, each thud echoing with a bone-chilling intensity. Tara clutched a knife tightly in her trembling hands, attempting to assert some form of control. She threatened the intruder with the arrival of the police, hoping to deter them. Yet, as abruptly as the banging started, it ceased, leaving the house shrouded in an eerie silence.

Tara cautiously backed away from the door, her gaze fixed on it, her senses on high alert. The wound on her side throbbed with pain, each heartbeat a painful reminder of her vulnerability. The momentary respite was disrupted by a loud noise emanating from her phone.

ALL SYSTEMS DISARMED.

Fear gripped her heart as she realized the intruder had tampered with the security system. With a desperate rush, she quickly accessed the app, her fingers trembling as she frantically locked the doors once again.

SYSTEMS ARMED.

The repeating cycle of the security system continued, amplifying the tension that hung in the air. Tara's mind raced as she tried to regain control, her wounded body screaming with each movement. She tapped on the lock button in a frenzied frenzy, desperately hoping to deny the intruder any chance of entry.

But the unrelenting repetition of the words continued, mocking her efforts.

ALL SYSTEMS DISARMED.

Tara's fear escalated, her voice choked with terror as she attempted to shout for help. Yet, no words escaped her lips, only hoarse noises of distress. Her movements became erratic, each pause prolonging the time it took to secure the locks.

SYSTEMS ARMED.

ALL SYSTEMS DISARMED.

SYSTEMS ARMED.

The relentless cycle of the security system added to the mounting tension, amplifying the sense of impending danger. Tara's breaths grew ragged as she slowly backed into the kitchen, her gaze never straying from the front door.

The piercing ring of the landline shattered the silence once again, sending a surge of fear coursing through Tara's veins. Her scream of terror echoed through the house as she hit her back against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks like a torrent. With hesitant steps, she moved toward the ringing phone, each movement laden with trepidation.

"Hello?"

"Bonus Question, Tara!"

Tara's plea fell on deaf ears as the voice on the other end continued with sadistic glee. Her body curled inward, overcome by fear. She couldn't bear the torment any longer. Her thoughts raced to (Y/n), praying for her swift arrival. Tara wished she would come sooner, but deep down, she hoped the police would arrive first, shielding her from harm. In that moment, Tara realised she couldn't bear the thought of (Y/n) getting hurt. If she made it out alive, she vowed to never let her go again.

"Do you think I made it inside your house before you could rearm?"

An icy arm coiled around Tara's trembling torso, pulling her forcefully against a chilling presence. The killer's other hand, wielding the gleaming blade, plunged mercilessly into her gut. Agonized screams tore from Tara's throat as the knife was wrenched out, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake. Fighting against the searing pain, she managed to push herself away from her assailant, her front colliding with the cold, unforgiving countertop.

Summoning a surge of determination, Tara spun around with a sudden backhand, striking the killer with a burst of defiance. But her resistance was short-lived as a vice-like grip seized her hair, wrenching her down onto the unforgiving hardwood floor. The impact jarred her senses, leaving her disoriented and vulnerable, face pressed into the unyielding surface.

Desperation fueled her every movement as Tara attempted to kick away her attacker, her hopes of escape crushed under the brutal force of a stomping boot. The sickening crack of bone echoed through the air, intertwining with Tara's anguished screams. Her ankle mangled and shattered, rendering her attempts at resistance futile.

The killer, relentless in their pursuit, sought to position Tara for a final, fatal blow. But she refused to succumb without a fight. Summoning every ounce of strength, she raised her trembling hand in a desperate bid for defense. The blade tore through her flesh, eliciting a surge of searing pain, yet she persisted. Pushing against the blade with an agonizing determination, her blood mingling with the tears streaming down her face.

A fleeting moment of distraction granted Tara a brief respite. Seizing the opportunity, she mustered her remaining strength and launched a fierce kick at her tormentor. The force sent them hurtling backward, colliding violently with the kitchen island. Tara, lying prone on her stomach, dragged herself across the floor, a crimson trail left in her wake, intermingled with her anguished sobs.

The killer, slowly rising to their feet, taunted her with sadistic amusement. Their presence shadowed her every move as she struggled towards the distant patio doors, the faint wail of sirens growing louder. But her desperate escape was cut short as they viciously seized her ankles, yanking her back into their clutches. With chilling precision, they struck her back twice, puncturing her with each merciless stab.

A crimson halo enveloped Tara, her strength waning, yet she fought against the encroaching darkness. The killer spun her around, their malevolence masked by the reflection of red and blue police lights bouncing off their plastic Ghostface facade. As the world blurred and her life hung in the balance, a final cry reverberated through the night, a desperate plea for salvation.

“TARA!”

When (Y/n) burst through the front door, her heart sank at the sight of Tara's bloodied body sprawled across the floor. Ignoring the fading smudge of black, her focus was solely on Tara's well-being. She rushed over, cradling Tara's unconscious form against her chest, an instinctual need to protect taking over. If only she had come over as planned, if only she hadn't let jealousy cloud her judgment about Tara's friendship with Amber. (Y/n)'s tears streamed down her face as she held Tara's good hand, pressing gentle kisses to its back. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice laced with regret.

To her astonishment, Tara's hand weakly squeezed back, a glimmer of hope amidst the despair. (Y/n)'s touch shifted to cup Tara's blood-stained cheek, her eyes filled with concern. "Just hold on, darling. The ambulance is right outside," she reassured, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. The sound of approaching footsteps alerted (Y/n) to the presence of others in the house, as people hurried into the kitchen, acknowledging the need for immediate medical assistance.

Tara was swiftly transferred to a waiting stretcher, (Y/n) steadfastly refusing to let go of her limp hand. A paramedic approached, inquiring about their relationship. (Y/n)'s voice trembled as she pleaded, tears streaming down her face, "I'm her girlfriend. Please, let me go with her. I can't leave her alone again." The paramedic nodded sympathetically, granting her request. "Go ahead," they said, understanding the depth of (Y/n)'s anguish.

With a mixture of hope and trepidation, (Y/n) followed Tara into the ambulance, her grip on her girlfriend's hand unyielding.

The ride to the hospital seemed like a hazy dream, (Y/n)'s mind clouded with worry and guilt. Tara remained unconscious, her pale face framed by the sterile hospital lights. The paramedics worked diligently, tending to her wounds with professional efficiency. (Y/n)'s gaze never wavered from Tara's face, her eyes searching desperately for any flicker of awareness. She wanted Tara to know that she was there, that she would never leave her side, even if the hospital staff tried to force her out.

The sight of Tara in the hospital bed, connected to various monitors and IV drips, filled (Y/n)'s heart with a mix of anguish and determination. This could have been prevented if only she had been there with her girlfriend. Now, Tara lay covered in gauze and dissolvable stitches, a stark reminder of the violence she had endured. (Y/n) vowed silently to be her rock, to support her through every step of the recovery process.

As the hospital staff continued their work, (Y/n) gently held Tara's hand, offering a silent reassurance in her touch. She whispered words of love and encouragement, hoping that somewhere within the depths of Tara's unconsciousness, her presence would be felt. The beeping machines and sterile hospital environment faded into the background as (Y/n)'s focus remained solely on Tara, her unwavering devotion shining through her eyes.

(Y/n)'s thoughts swirled with conflicting emotions as she sat by Tara's side in the hospital room. The urge to reach out to their friends and inform them about what had happened tugged at her, but a part of her hesitated. Almost selfishly, she wanted this moment to be just between her and Tara. She wanted Tara to wake up and find solace in her presence, to see the remorse and love etched in every fiber of her being.

Clutching Tara's hand tightly, (Y/n)'s eyes never left her girlfriend's face. She longed for Tara to open her eyes, to see the love and dedication shining through her gaze. It was important for (Y/n) to express her deepest apologies, to make sure Tara understood that she would never abandon her, no matter what. She needed Tara to know the depths of her love and commitment, to feel the unwavering support and presence by her side.

Growing weary, (Y/n) felt herself slipping into the realm of dreams, her grip on Tara's hand never faltering. But just as she began to drift away, a voice reached her ears, pulling her back to consciousness. With a sudden squeeze of her hand, Tara's touch broke through the veil of sleep. (Y/n)'s eyes shot open, wide with surprise and relief. There was Tara, sitting up in her hospital bed, her disheveled hair tied back, her eyes red and weary, and yet her presence was a beacon of beauty and strength.

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes, streaming down her cheeks like an unstoppable cascade. It was as if a dam had burst within her, releasing all the pent-up emotions she had been holding onto. Tara's loving gaze quickly shifted to concern at the sight of (Y/n)'s tears. "What's wrong? Please don't cry," Tara's voice, raspy from the ordeal, carried that familiar softness and affectionate tone that (Y/n) had longed to hear.

Through her tear-strained voice, (Y/n) choked out her words, unable to contain the overwhelming remorse and love she felt. "Tara, I'm so fucking sorry. I should have just come over, I should have been there for you-" Her words trailed off, interrupted by the weight of her guilt.

Tara's expression softened, a tender smile gracing her lips. "Hey, hey, it's okay," she reassured, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "None of this was your fault. I know you would have been here if you could. What matters now is that you're here with me, and I love you.”

Tara scooted to the edge of the hospital bed, patting the space beside her, an invitation for (Y/n) to join her. The desire for comfort and solace radiated from Tara's eyes, a silent plea for the warmth of her girlfriend's embrace after the harrowing ordeal they had both endured. (Y/n) hesitated for a moment, mindful of Tara's injuries, but the need for their souls to intertwine and find solace in each other's presence outweighed any physical discomfort. Gingerly, she laid down beside Tara, careful to support herself and cradle Tara's head in her arms.

Nuzzling her nose into Tara's hair, (Y/n) whispered with a voice filled with love and longing, "I missed you." The words carried the weight of their shared experiences and the depth of their connection. In that tender moment, they sought solace in each other's embrace, finding strength and healing in their love.

Tara shifted slightly, snuggling closer to (Y/n)'s chest, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. The rise and fall of each other's breaths created a rhythm that matched their heartbeat, a synchrony of love and reassurance. (Y/n) pressed gentle kisses to the top of Tara's head, conveying the depth of her affection and the promise of unwavering support.

As they lay there, entwined in each other's arms, the world outside the hospital room faded away.

“I missed you too”

[straxxberrypunki]

Hii so I have a request would it be possible to write Headcanons about Valeria Garza who is an evil queen etc but that her fiancée is the sweetest woman she has ever met? I hope it won't bother you too much, kisses kisses 💋💃

YESS ofc!! My very first ask/request 😼

( The Queen’s Obsession: Loving Valeria Garza )

Ruthless evil queen Valeria Garza w/ a sweet hearted fiancée reader. ~

- Valeria’s affection is not soft or gentle. She shows her love in grand, sometimes overwhelming gestures. Expensive gifts, luxurious trips, and extravagant dinners are all part of how she expresses her feelings. But don’t mistake her generosity for submission. Valeria is always in control, and she makes it clear that in her world, she’s the one who calls the shots.

- As much as you try to bring out the softer side of Valeria, don’t expect her to change her ways. She is unapologetically ruthless, and no amount of kindness from you will alter her cold, calculated nature. She might adore your compassion, but Valeria is firm: she is who she is, and she won’t bend—not even for you.

- Valeria’s love is protective, sometimes to a suffocating degree. She won’t tolerate anyone being a threat to you, and if someone crosses the line, she’ll handle it swiftly and without hesitation. Her protectiveness comes from a deep place of devotion, but it often leaves you feeling like you’re under her watchful eye 24/7.

- Valeria thrives on control, both in her cartel empire and in your relationship. She often decides things for you—what’s best for your safety, what’s best for your future. While it can feel overbearing, it stems from her genuine care. In her own way, she believes she’s protecting you from the dangers of her world.

- To the world, Valeria is a cold, ruthless queen, but with you, she’s different. When it’s just the two of you, she shows rare moments of tenderness. She craves the softness you bring to her life, allowing herself to be vulnerable in your presence, though these moments are fleeting. You are her escape from the brutality of her everyday life.

- Valeria’s devotion to you is absolute, but it’s also dangerous. She’ll go to extreme lengths to protect you, sometimes crossing lines that make you uncomfortable. You are her treasure, her soft spot, and she would do anything—even commit acts you’d rather not know about—to keep you safe. It’s both a comforting and terrifying reality.

- Valeria knows how to manipulate, and that doesn’t stop with you. While she loves you deeply, she’s used to getting her way and will often use her charm to sway you into agreeing with her. Whether it’s steering you away from her darker dealings or convincing you not to question her violent lifestyle, Valeria knows how to keep you in line.

- Despite her hardened exterior, Valeria truly loves you. You’re the kindness and sweetness she rarely sees in her world, and that’s why she’s so drawn to you. To her, you’re a breath of fresh air—a glimpse of the good she doesn’t often encounter. It’s your gentle heart that makes her feel alive in ways she hadn’t felt in years, even if she can’t fully embrace your softness herself.

- Valeria is intensely possessive of you. She doesn’t like to share your attention and has no problem cutting people out of your life if she feels they don’t have your best interest at heart. But this possessiveness comes with fiery passion. When things are good, they’re intoxicating, and Valeria makes sure you feel adored and desired.

- The moment Valeria proposed, she promised you the most perfect wedding, and you know she means it. She’s already planning every detail, from the venue to the security. She’ll make sure your big day is flawless, not just because it’s what you deserve, but because she wants the world to see that even in her dark, dangerous life, she’s capable of creating something beautiful with you.

- Being Valeria’s fiancée means living in the shadow of her empire. While she protects and loves you fiercely, her world of violence and crime will always be a part of your life. There’s no escaping the darkness she’s built, and while she’ll shield you from its worst aspects, you’ll always feel the weight of it hanging over your relationship.

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter v

Summary: The entourage arrives in Brooklyn to a grand feast and an eventful jousting tournament.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Violence and Combat. Injuries. Emotional Tension. Subtle Aggression.

Word Count: 1850

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A/N: Oh, Lord James. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love | @mrsnikstan | @learisa | @railmesebstan | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @barnesxstan | @ghalouha | @mrsstuckyboo | @g-nobody

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602

Approaching the outskirts of Brooklyn, Lord James rode ahead as he signaled the bannermen to form a protective circle around you and Honeybreeze. The silhouette of the capital loomed in the distance, spires reaching up to the skies. 

The bustling sounds of the city reached your ears as the gates came into view. Children laughed as they played in the streets, merchants calling out their wares, and the clatter of hoovers against cobblestone filling the air. 

Alpine slowed to a trot as Lord James allowed your entourage to catch up. Falling back to your side, he turned to you, his expression serious. “We’ll be meeting the Prince and your sister at the palace gates,” he informed you, an undertone of unease as he kept his voice steady. 

You nodded, fidgeting with the reins in your hand. “Yes, my lord.” 

Moving through the city streets, you attracted curious glances from the citizens. It was inspiring and intimidating, the grandeur of Brooklyn’s architecture and its people's energy. The palace walls towered, adorned with banners and the royal crest causing your heart to race as you neared. 

A contingent of royal guards greeted you as the gates of the palace opened. Stood at the forefront of the palace was Prince Steve, a striking figure in regal attire. His presence commanded respect and admiration. Your eldest sister, Natasha, stooks beside him. Her radiant smile was a beacon of comfort. Stepping forward, her eyes lit up upon noticing you. 

“Nat!” you exclaimed, dismounting Honeybreeze without assistance as you rushed to embrace her. “I’ve missed you!” you whispered, holding tightly onto her.

Natasha’s eyes filled with warmth and concern as she pulled back slightly, taking your cheek into her hands. “You’ve traveled far, and I’m sure you’re exhausted,” she whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Stepping forward, Prince Steve’s eyes were kind and welcoming. “Lady Romanoff, it’s an honor to meet you, finally,” he said, offering his hand. “Your sister… and Lord James have spoken highly of you.” he smiled, kissing gently against your knuckles, respectfully.

“Thank you, my prince,” you spoke softly as you curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

As you exchanged pleasantries, a familiar face emerged from the place. Yelena, your other older sister, approached, her usual Belovian armor adoring her figure. A mischievous smile tugged at her mouth. “Ah, seems I arrived just in time,” she teased, embracing you. “Quite the city, isn’t it?” 

You laughed with a sense of normalcy amidst the formalities. “I’m glad to see you, Lena.”��

Exchanging words with your sisters, you noticed the anticipation in Lord James’ eyes. It was evident that seeing his friend again meant a great deal to him, he had been waiting for this moment. 

“Prince Steve,” Lord James began, his voice steady as he stood beside you. “It has been too long.” 

Prince Steve’s eyes sparkled while widening as he turned to face Lord James. “Bucky! My longest, and oldest friend,” he said, stepping forward and embracing him tightly. “It has– three months since my last visit to the Reach, I believe.” 

The two men held each other for a moment, all who watched could sense the bond of their friendship. Lord James’ expression shifted back to one of stoic duty as the two men pulled apart. His posture was rigid and his eyes sharp as the warmth faded, replaced by his usual distant demeanor. 

Noticing his friend's change, Prince Steve chose not to comment. He was instead, gesturing to the group with a bright smile. “As a token of our hospitality and to celebrate the arrival of the realm's great Houses, I am pleased to announce a jousting tournament to be held in honor.”

A murmur of excitement ran through your entourage, it was a chance to see the prowess of the kingdom and to enjoy festivities. Lord James nodded toward Prince Steve as his eyes hardened. 

“A tournament is a fitting welcome, my prince,” Lord James spoke with a formal bow. “It will be an honor to witness Brooklyn’s finest knights.” 

A knowing look consumes the Prince’s eyes as they linger on Lord James. “I expect you’ll be participating, Bucky? Your skills with a lance are legendary, after all.” 

Stiffening slightly, Lord James’ eyes flickered to yours briefly before returning to Prince Steve. “I believe my jousting days are behind me, my prince.” 

The prince didn’t push further. Turning to you and your sisters, his smile widened. “We have arranged a grand feast tonight, and the tournament will commence tomorrow.” 

Your heart swelled, and excitement and nervousness coursed through you. “Thank you, my prince. We look forward to it.” 

The formalities concluded and you were led to your chambers. The opulent corridors and lavish decorations were a stark contrast to the simpler surroundings you have known at Winter’s Reach. You marveled at the splendor, your excitement began infectious.

~

The grand hall was a sight to behold, banners of House Rogers adorned the walls, and the long table was laden with delicious dishes. The room buzzed with laughter and chatter as music filled the air and nobles from across the realm reconnected. 

At the head of the table sat the King and Queen, Prince Steve and Natasha beside them. You were seated nearby, with Lord James on your other side. Across the table, your sister, Yelena, sat with a few other lords, her expression unreadable. 

“To love, loyalty, and the bonds that unite us all,” King Joseph II Rogers proclaimed, his voice carrying across the hall. “May this union between House Rogers and our honored guests, House Romanoff, be a beacon of prosperity and harmony for generations to come.” 

Raising your goblets in unison, the assembled nobles echoed the sentiment with a heartfelt cheer. Glancing at Lord James, you caught his eyes for a fleeting moment, and a hint of vulnerability flickered in his expression, masked by the stern resolve that defined him.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself lost in conversation with a visiting noble from the Eastern Isles. Yet, every so often, you would drift your gaze over to Lord James, his focus shifting between his plate and the lively crown. 

Prince Steve extended his hand to Natasha as he gracefully guided her to the center of the room. The floor cleared around them. You watched as their dance was a beautiful display of elegance as other couples began to gather. 

Anticipation fluttered in your chest, you hoped that Lord James would ask you to dance. Even for a moment, the thought of being in his arms made your heart race. But, as you turned your gaze to him once more, he remained seated. 

Forcing a smile, you watched as several noblemen approached ladies asking for a dance, and disappointment settled over you. 

Yelena stealthily stood behind you and observed the exchange. She leaned in and whispered. “He’s a stubborn one, isn’t he?” 

Flinching at the sudden sense of her presence, you sighed, nodding slightly. “Yes, that he is.”

Lord James remained distant as the evening turned to night, cold and unyielding as ever. Even for just a moment, you prayed for a moment when he might let his guard down. Yet, it never came.

~

The excitement in Brooklyn reached a fever pitch as the upcoming jousting tournament was in preparation. The arena was abuzz with spectators from across the realm, noble houses eager to showcase their finest in the lists.

You sat with Lord James, Natasha, Yelena, and Prince Steve in the royal viewing box, overlooking the tournament. Casting a golden glow over the assembled knights, the sun shined brightly overhead. The crowd roared with anticipation as the first challengers took their places, readying their lances. 

A lord from a neighboring house caught your attention amid the spectacle. He was tall and imposing, armor adorned with the sigil of his house, confidently he rode toward the lists. He made a sweeping gesture as his eyes locked onto you, signaling his request for your favor. 

You felt a flutter in your stomach at being asked to grant a favor. Such gestures were usually reserved for Natasha, yet this unexpected attention excited you. Without hesitation, you reached for the red ribbon, embroidered with your house crest, handing it to the attendant who then delivered it to the eager lord. 

Lord James stood beside you, law clenched as his gaze fixed upon the unfolding scene. His demeanor cracked slightly, a furrow in his brow betrayed his displeasure. He said nothing as you glanced at him with a small smile, his jaw tightening even more.

Commencing with thundering hoovers and splintering lances, the knights demonstrate their skill and bravery. Proving formidable, the lord who had requested your favor, unhorsed several opponents with precise strikes. Each victory was met with cheers, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride. 

As the tournament progressed, Lord James unexpectedly disappeared from his seat in the royal viewing box. Concern grew as you noted his absence. However, as the next match was about to commence, there was a murmur through the crowd.

Emerging from the entrance leading to the lists, Lord James with his armor gleaming with his House colours, held a steely and determined expression. You watched in awe as he readied himself. 

There was a shift in the atmosphere as Lord James took his place opposite the knight who had received your favor. The herald’s call rang out, and the two knights charged towards each other with thundering hooves, their lances held steady. 

In a clash of steel and determination, Lord James struck with great precision, unseating the lord in a decisive victory. Erupting into cheers, the crowd marveled at Lord James. With a triumphant smirk, he dismounted gracefully from Alpine, his eyes set on the fallen lord. 

Striding toward the grounded knight, he reached down to retrieve the favor you had granted earlier. “I believe this belongs to me,” he declared before briefly meeting your gaze. There was an edge to the words as if a silent message of challenge hung in the air. 

An expression of begrudging respect conveyed over the fallen lord's face as he looked toward Lord James. He handed over the ribbon, and Lord James straightened before returning to the viewing box. 

There was a palpable tension in the air when he rejoined you. Simmering intensity in his demeanor as he sat, eyes refixed ahead on the ongoing tournament. 

Ever perceptive, Prince Steve broke the silence that settled. “I thought your jousting days were behind you, Buck,” he remarked with a half-smile. 

His jaw stayed tight as Lord James nodded curtly in response. 

“You were magnificent out there, my lord,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you placed a reassuring hand on his arm. Your favor secured in his palm with a tight grip.

Despite the excitement around you as the tournament continued and the remaining knights vying for glory, your mind kept returning to Lord James. Whispers of admiration followed him, underscoring his place, a formidable knight in his own right and as a protector.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[nyankochan]

A Mother’s Love II

Malleus x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary

As a kid, Malleus had no parental figure outside of his grandmother. When at times she was too busy as queen, he found comfort in the embrace of one of his Royal guards, who happened to be Lilia’s lover.

TW: mentions of violence, miscarriage, depression

Part 1: here

word count: 2.5K

You hum a nameless tune whilst you help Malleus get ready for the day. You button up his shirt, taking careful consideration to not wrinkle the fabric. You slip a black sock on each foot and hook a pair of suspenders to his shorts. Malleus watches, being unusually quiet, as your dainty fingers delicately tie his bow tie around his neck.

“(Name)?”

“Yes, my prince?”

“What is that song you’re humming?”

You offer a smile. Some of Malleus’s black locs fall over his face, which you carefully slick back out his vision. You straighten the bow, pulling the entire outfit together in a cute, yet poised outfit for the heir of Briar Valley.

“Hm, it’s a song I heard so long ago that I forgot the words to it,” you say. “I can only remember the tune, but it was very special to me.”

“If it was so special to you, then why did you forget it?” Malleus asked innocently.

“I’m old my dear prince,” you chuckle. “Sometimes, we adults become forgetful as we age.”

“Oh…” Malleus pouts. You tilt your head in confusion, concerned by his sudden mood switch. “Does that mean, you’ll one day forget about me too?”

“My prince…” You kneel back down to his height and take his small hands into your own. You caress his palm with your thumb, a small yet comforting gesture. “There’s nothing in this world that could make me forget about you. You’re that special to me.”

“You won’t forget me even as you grow older?” Malleus asked hopefully.

“Not even after the day I die. I promise you that, Malleus.”

Malleus hugs you. The sudden force almost threw you off balance. Once steady, you reciprocate the gesture. His grip tightens, refusing to let go. For a while, you hold him, providing the warmth and security he needed.

Malleus never knew his parents. You vaguely remember them yourself, so you weren’t much help in educating him on them. Not like it really mattered to him. He had his grandmother, whom he adored. But with how busy Her Majesty was as queen, she couldn’t always spend time with him in the way she wanted. The next closest maternal figure he had was you, and Lilia could be considered a paternal model. Between the two of you, you practically raised Malleus. You witnessed his first steps. Comforted him during each nightmare, and even taught him bits of magic.

No matter how old you got, Malleus would always have a soft spot in your heart for he was the child you and Lilia could never have.

•••

Some years ago

For centuries, the fae and human race clashed. The two races had difficulties coexisting due to the imbalance of power. The fae, naturally gifted with magic, taught their skills to the weaker humans. As humans strengthened, they turned on their allies, and war broke out the battle for dominance.

Malleus’s grandmother, Her Majesty Queen Malefica attempted to forge peace between the two races, but it was a tedious process that often resulted in more fighting than compromise. You and Lilia were top commanders in the army, and often witnessed firsthand the treacherous outcomes of failed negotiations. Fighting between fae and human. Magic used carelessly that caused more destruction thad good. The loss of lives, some of your closest comrades, and others, innocent bystanders. The worst of them all: yours and Lilia’s unborn child.

“Lady Y/n? Can you hear me? Lady Y/n!”

You awake with a start. Gasps for air quickly turned into a pained wince. You recognize the medical wing by its ancient supplies and alcoholic scent. However, everything is hazy. And your body feels like it’s on fire, particularly in the abdomen region.

“My lady, are you all right?” The doctor asked. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four?” You say confused. You grip your head feeling the headache coming on. “What happened?”

The doctor frowned, looking almost guilty. “Im sorry my lady but-“

Your heart sank. It started to return to you. The skirmish between Briar Valley and the Land of Heroes. They surprisingly had stronger mages and warriors than your troops anticipated. While you had more numbers, you were slowly forced to retreat when one of the mages used illegal transformation magic. Briar Valley’s Queen had a unique magic that allowed her to turn into a dragon. This mage used a phony knockoff spell that not only killed him and several of his comrades but many of your allies.

You remembered trying to save one of the younger cadets. In the process you were wounded. Your defense spell was overpowered but the enemy mage’s temporarily boosted magic. The flame attack burned through the skin and seared the lining of your stomach and parts of your uterus.

“I’m sorry to tell you this Lady Y/n, but you were six weeks along. Your uterus was so badly damaged in the attack that there was nothing I could do magic wise to save your child. I’m so sorry.”

You heart stopped in that moment.

You were pregnant?

With Lilia’s child?

You didn’t know. If you had did you never would’ve foolishly took to the battle field. Tears prickled your eyes and you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate. The heart monitor started beeping.

“Lady Y/n? Please calm yourself!” But the doctor’s words fell on deaf ears.

You were pregnant. You and Lilia were gonna be parents. And now that future was stripped away from you both for good.

•••

“(Name)?” Malleus calls, tugging on your sleeve. You snap back into reality becoming aware of your surroundings. The concerned prince stares at you, green eyes wide with worry.

“I’m sorry my prince, I seemed to have zone out,” you chuckled. “Shall we go get breakfast?”

“Can we get ice cream?” He asks hopefully. Your eye twitches, buy your do your best to hide your irritation. You swear, you regret the day Lilia got him hooked on it.

“Maybe later,” you say with a soft smile. “How about some pancakes?”

Luckily, the young child’s eyes sparkle nonetheless. “Yay! Pancakes!” He raises his arms to be picked up, which you do without a second thought.

As you walk down the long halls to the kitchen, the prince excitedly babbles, talking about all the things he wanted to do with you for the day, including taking a walk through the gardens, visiting the gargoyle statues by the palace entrance, and wanting to go to the town. You just smile and nod along, not quite sure how to fulfill all his requests in a singular day. After all, you had other responsibilities to handle that you usually took care of when Malleus went down for a nap, one being filling out some of the military reports.

You weren’t as active in the military as you used to be. But, you supposed the fighting spirit never died and you wanted to help out the best you could despite what happened in the best. You never stepped foot on the actual field since then, but you will still train recruits from time to time and it was best you handled any paperwork instead of leaving it to Lilia. He didn’t have your patience to fill out several page reports, and if Her Majesty wanted anything to be legible, let alone done, it was best to let you handle the tedious tasks.

Once in the kitchen, you begin gathering the ingredients to begin breakfast. Usually, Malleus wanders off but today, he was insistent on helping you. Which you didn’t mind.

“Ok, just add a cup of flour into that bowl,” you instruct. Malleus nodded. He holds the measuring cup with two hands, intently focusing on the bowl. He tilts the cup over, but the flour was packed into the cup and didn’t come out right away. Malleus wore a confused look and tapped the bottom a little too hard. The flour falls out in a clump, kicking up a cloud of white dust that covers his face. He blinked a few times in confusion.

You snicker, trying to bite back your laughter. Malleus pouts and looks to be on the verge of tears. “Now now, no need for the waterworks,” you say, taking a wet towel to wipe his face. “What’s baking without a little mess?”

“You’re not mad?” Malleus whimpers, rubbing his eyes.

“Mad? Least you got majority in the bowl!” You scoff. “Lilia couldn’t even do that even if I did it for him.”

You loved your husband. You really did. But cooking, baking or anything really involving being in the kitchen was just not his forte. He had no affinity for it at all. It made you wonder how in the hell did he survive centuries on his own before you two got together. Lilia couldn’t even make a scrambled egg properly. Last time he did, it was simultaneously burnt and purple.

“Lilia really can’t cook, huh?” Malleus said in between giggles.

“Not even a little, so it’s my job to make sure you don’t end up like him.” You ruffle Malleus’s hair before picking up a whisk and giving it to him. “Come now. You only grow if you learn from your mistakes.”

It took longer than usual, but you and Malleus finished the batter. You were patient with the boy, letting him take his time measuring out ingredients and only guiding him slightly when it came to storing things in. You only took back over when it came to using the stove, because he was still a little too young to work with the heated device.

In the end, he was quite proud of himself when the finished product came out a crisp golden brown.

“It’s so good! Do you think grandma would like some?” Malleus asked as he shoveled more food into his mouth. You smile softly.

“I’m sure Her Majesty would greatly appreciate your sentiment.”

You two were enjoying each other’s presence and the calmness of the morning. The skyline was an ombré of oranges. Your tea had finally cooled off enough for it to not burn your tongue. Although Malleus was now sticky from syrup, he nearly cleaned his plate with no complaints.

That calmness was soon interrupted by a frantic servant running into the dining room.

“Lady (name)! Lady (name)!”

Her sudden entrance startled you and you spilt a bit of tea on to your shirt. “Dear, what’s the commotion so early in the day?” You ask, trying to wipe the stain.

“I’m sorry, my lady, but Lord Vanrouge returned in a frantic haste. He told me he needed your presence immediately!”

Your heart skipped a quick beat. “I apologize, but please watch the prince for me!” Without a second thought you teleported away.

Malleus stared, mouth slightly agape, at your now empty seat. Tears began to pool in his green eyes. “(Name)….”

•••

You soon arrive at your destination: the infirmary. You and Lilia had a special link that you both created once you were finally married. The link allowed you both to transport to the other in an instant regardless of where they were. It took a lot of magic to enact the seal and couldn’t be broken. You quite literally threatened Lilia with his life to don’t do anything to betray your trust in the relationship. The bond was about as sacred as the wedding band on your finger.

Never mind that.

Your current concern was your husband that was pacing the room while a few doctors scrambled around the room.

“Lilia!”

Lilia perked up at your call. He quickly rushed to you and grabbed your hands. “Dearie, thank goodness you’re here!”

“Whatever is the matter?” You brush Lilia’s bangs out of his face. He looked clearly distressed and their was a bit of blood trickling down his temple from an open wound. “You’re hurt!”

“Never mind me. Come here-“

He led you urgently too where the doctors were gathered: a small bassinet where a small infant lay. The baby had pale skin that was clearly flushed red with fever. They also had silvery white hair and the clothes were by no means suitable for a child that small. They were dirty, ripped and exposed open abrasions that who knew how old they were. You gasp.

“Oh my god, Lilia! You stole a child?!”

“No! What do you take me for?!” Lilia exclaimed. “I found this little one alone in an abandoned cabin on my excursion. He was in bad shape, but I don’t know much about caring for a human child. With your medical knowledge and experience, I figured you were the best to call.”

You trace a finger around the baby’s ears which you notice were not pointed like fae’s. The baby cringed and then began to wail. You take the stethoscope from the doctor and then look to your husband.

“Let me see what I can do.”

Lilia placed a kiss on your temple. “Thank you, dearie.”

After a thorough check up as well as treating the baby’s injuries, you thankfully found nothing too serious. He had early symptoms of pneumonia that were luckily caught soon enough to begin some treatment. Other than that, the baby just had signs of exhaustion and hunger.

Once you had the child bathed, you had Lilia bring some of Malleus’s old baby clothes that didn’t fit anymore. You swaddled the infant tightly and held him close against your chest protectively. He was a heavy sleeper, only briefly opening his eyes periodically to showcase a stunning set of violet irises.

“Do you think this child’s parents are looking for him?” You ask Lilia, who sits on a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

“I’m not sure. There wasn’t anyone for miles. I think the poor fella’s been abandoned.”

Your heart aches. You wonder who would be so heartless to leave a baby, let alone a child, by themselves to get sick and possibly die. It angered you and at the same time, made you extremely sad.

“Lilia,” you begin. “If it’s alright with you and Her Majesty, I’d like to keep the child for the time being.”

Lilia looks to you with surprise. “(Name)-“

“He has no where else to go,” you interrupt. “Please? I couldn’t bare to send him off to someone who may not provide him with the same love and care I know we can.”

Lilia remains silent, pondering what you said. After a few tense moments he finally signs. “Alright.”

You smile. You place an endearing kiss on Lilia’s forehead. The baby wakes. He doesn’t cry. Just stares absentmindedly at his surroundings. His violet eyes then meet yours. Somehow, he wiggles a hand out of the swaddle. You extend your pinky, which he grabs tightly with a small fist.

“What should we call him?” You ask.

Lilia peers over your shoulder. He then smiles. “How about Silver?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 1

Warnings: namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: someone said August.

Part of The Club AU

It's retro night. You're looking bomb, feeling fly, ready to get groovy. In a manner of speaking. Platforms, short skirt, a crop top with a faux fur bolero. You are channeling your inner Cher Horowitz.

It's your nineteenth birthday and you can drink your ass off. At last. It's your time. The best days of your life are ahead of you.

Not only are you vibing, you have your posse, your trio of thots. You're not the queen bee but you're a great sidekick. The Regina George of the group is definitely Amanda and her svelte blond hair, but you'd say Kamlai is more the Gretchen Wieners than you.

You smile at the bouncer, a man with a derisive look on his eye that makes you want to dissolve into sand or dust. Whatever. Maybe a nice eerie fog so you can float away. You only catch half his face as he keeps in the shadows, waving in coeds and a few middle-aged creepers.

You wish you got the nice one with the belly. You wait for the silent man to scowl at your ID. He holds it up beside you before he flicks it back to you.

"Thank you, sir," you catch the plastic card against your chest, his eye glinting towards your cleavage.

"Go," he growls and waves forward the next eager club goer.

"Oop, okay, sorry," you make a gesture like Betty Boop, raising your shoulders as you kick a foot up, "have a great night!"

He grumbles and you quickly run to catch up with Kam and Amanda. The pulsing music embraces you and you feel the energy flow into you. This night is gonna be awesome!

"You guys have to make sure to get pics of me!" Amanda hollers above the beat, "with the cutest guy I can find. Seth can eat his heart out."

You shake your head, shrugging off your disappointment. It's supposed to be your day but somehow Amanda always finds her way into the spotlight. You're not going to worry, you're all about fun!

You get your first round of drinks and find a seat. Amanda drinks her pink martini as she scopes out the room. She blows a nonplussed raspberry.

"Ugh, not finding any hunky fuckboys," she rolls her eyes, "I mean, I need someone super fucking hot."

"Don't we all," Kam giggles as her eyes rove, "how about an older guy?"

"Hm?" Amanda gives a pout and twists around to follow Kamlai's gaze. She tilts her head back and forth.

"Not too bad, I'll take the middle one," she winks, "you two can fight over who doesn't get specs."

You look at Kam then back to the three men along the wall. Amanda must be referring to the one with the spiky hair and glasses. He's cute but you're not really into the leering type.

"It's my birthday," you say as Amanda's already on her feet.

You peek at the third guy, sandy brown hair and bright blue eyes. He's not bad. Besides, you just have to dance, Amanda can do all the wants but you're not that kinda gal. You're too damn weird to be the hookup type.

"Fine," Kam rolls her eyes, "I'll take the nerd."

🥂

You grab the stranger's hands and once more drag them off your ass. You put them on your waist and give him a look. Dude, really, take a hint.

Well, he's not a stranger stranger. His name is Cole and he likes flowers. Adorable but still, a bit too old for you.

You turn, an excuse too look around at your friends as you shimmy your hips. Kam isn't as detered as she originally let on and Amanda is gone. Alright…

"How about a drink?" Cole startles you as he leans forward to yell in your ear, "I think I owe the birthday girl at least one."

"Oh, uh, alright," you turn back to him, "sure, I needa sit down anyway."

You follow him to the bar and wait by his arm as he orders. Fuck Amanda, really? Where is she?

"Here," Cole turns back to you, handing over the bright blue cocktail, "birthday special."

You nod and smile. You look at the slice of orange hooked over the edge and sniff the sweet drink. You put your lips to the straw but before you can take a sip, it's torn out of your grasp.

"Hey fucker," the snarl bites through the breakdown of the Cyndi Lauper classic.

A large figure pushes between you and Cole, throwing the drink in his face as he sputters. You gape in surprise and look up as the bouncer stands between you and your erstwhile dance partner. He grabs the smaller man by the collar, knocking his drink to the floor.

"Get the fuck outta here."

The bouncer shoves Cole into a stool and rolls his shoulders. You have no idea what's going on. Cole gulps and looks between you and the large man, himself not by any means small but taking a quick hint. He scrabbles away as you check your feet, a few drops of alcohol on your shoes.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to take drinks from strangers," the bouncer turns with a bark, "fucking bimbo."

You frown at the insult but can't muster a response before he storms away. You peer down at the puddle of the cocktail then spin to see the bouncer disappear through the door. Huh, he must've seen something you didn't. You should've known Cole was a creep. You just hope his friends aren't the same.

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (44)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, angst, violence ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

After what he had said to her, after he had confessed his deepest hidden thoughts to her, he had exposed the dark side of his heart, he felt that his wife had finally seen him as he was. He was an unpredictable, cruel, possessive man who wanted her for himself, and now that she was his, he could take her as many times as he wanted.

So that's what he did.

He caressed her with his tongue, and then fucked her with his length aching with arousal, because he could, because he wanted to, because he had to. And even though his words as he rooted into her, sliding in and out of her with deep, intense pushes proved that he owned her, she still responded the same way.

I love you.

He was ashamed of how quickly he was reaching his peak after hearing those words struggling to come out of her mouth, so he waited with them until the very end, when he was already on the verge of fulfilment, and then made her say it again and again, coming inside her with a sigh of relief.

He collapsed on top of her, panting loudly, crushing her with his body, careful, however, to cause no harm to her or their child. They were both breathing anxiously as he swallowed loudly, looking at her sweaty face, feeling her body quiver under him from the exertion.

He loved her.

He'd known it for a long time, felt it in his veins, his affection for her burning inside him like fire.

"I…fuck." He hissed, clenching his eye, feeling the words get stuck in his throat.

He felt shame, felt a barrier.

He was a Prince, his father the King and mother the Queen had never spoken those words in front of him or towards him.

They seemed foreign to him, mysterious, even naïve.

If someone had asked him before his nuptials if he would ever confess love to any woman or his wife he would have laughed out loud, saying that love was the fairy tales of sweet, innocent girls, a pathetic attempt to add something to the fucking that would give it meaning.

But now, as he lay beside her, his wife, his Maiden, feeling her throbbing body beneath him, her scent filling his nostrils, still being deep inside her, filled with his seed, he felt only adoration.

He realised suddenly, surprised, that he had changed.

He shuddered when he heard her soft, quiet voice.

"Don’t force yourself to say it. I didn’t confess it to you to make you say the same words. You are showing me the enormity of your feelings in a way that any other woman in my position would dream of." She whispered tenderly, but he froze, swallowing hard, feeling for some reason pain at her words.

He realised how carefully she watched him, how well she knew what he needed and what made him uncomfortable.

She never forced him to do anything that caused him pain or frustration, never drew out him tender words and assurances of his affection and fidelity.

He realised that she had never asked him to embrace her, to hug her, to say a tender word to her. At the beginning of their marriage he did not even touch her, let her cry in his presence and did not even look at her. He took her maidenhood and then turned his back on her without even asking her if she needed anything, if he hurt her, if she needed him to embrace her.

He didn't even ask her if she was ready.

Whether he should slow down.

Whether she was afraid of him.

He pressed his lips together feeling the tears gathering in under his eyelids with embarrassment.

How could he have been so blind?

How could he do this to her after what he experienced in the brothel?

He had never asked her anything.

He knew nothing about her.

This realisation crushed him, and his question, asked in a trembling voice, came from his throat involuntarily as a low, uncertain murmur.

"… did your father and brother… tell you this?" He asked uncertainly, feeling the need to know more about her.

To get to know the woman he had been obsessed with even before he met her.

The war was before them and he felt fear at the thought that he might soon lose the opportunity to ask her these questions.

That he might die.

He felt her twist in surprise, had the impression she was smiling.

"… yes. Royce less often, rather when I was crying to comfort me. However, our father often told us that he loved us. He called us his beloved bunch. He always said: two hawks and four doves." She said lightly.

He swallowed quietly, sliding off her body with a quiet click and turned sideways with her, his fingers ran involuntarily over her arm.

"What did he mean?" He asked finally, and his wife began to tell him about herself and her siblings. He smiled at her mention of her playing great battles with her brother, imagining her as a small child running through the forest with a wooden sword. When she mentioned her mother, he pressed his lips together.

Should he ask?

"What happened to your mother?" He asked uncertainly, pressing her tighter against him, wanting to soften his question. He felt her body freeze in his arms as she swallowed loudly. She was silent for a long moment.

"During one of the hunts she fell ill. Everything was prolonged while we waited in the camp, it was cold and raining all around. She got a fever, fell asleep and didn’t wake up again. My father blames himself for this because he promised her we would return to Storm’s End sooner." She whispered.

My father blames himself for this because he promised her we would return to Storm’s End sooner.

She got a fever, fell asleep and didn't wake up again.

He wondered if her mother was to her father what she was to him.

Was this why Borros did not take a second wife.

Was it the same reason his father-king did not love him, but loved his sister.

He never spoke to him about Aemma. He felt furious when sometimes during suppers he addressed his mother like this, causing her pain.

He wondered how he could be so thoughtless and cruel, why in his eyes they were not worthy of his love.

But now, as his beloved wife whom he had taken for himself lay before him with his child in her womb he finally understood him.

He imagined his father embracing Aemma in the same way, holding his hand on her lower abdomen when she was expecting his next child, praying with her that the child would survive and that it would be a boy.

He imagined watching as they cut open her womb.

He shuddered at the thought and decided that he would never do that to her.

He would let her decide.

He felt he needed to dissuade his mind from these grim thoughts and he grunted quietly.

"Were you close with each other?" He asked and heard her sigh, her hand tightening on his arm that embraced her, protecting her from the cold and the danger that awaited her beyond the walls of their tent.

"She couldn’t understand me like my father did. I think now that I’m older, I understand her better and maybe now we would…" She said, and her voice broke. He felt pain hearing it, his fingers still running over her warm skin.

He too had to accept that he would never ask his father about many things again.

That he would never truly understand him again.

"Where is she buried?" He asked her softly.

"In the crypts in Storm's End." She whispered. He was silent for a moment, thinking about her words.

"When the war is over, I would like to pay tribute to her in the crypts of your ancestors. To the woman who brought my beloved wife into this world." He said. She turned towards him, wanting to look at him.

He pressed his nose to her wet cheek, and she stroked his face with her fingers. They kissed gently, tenderly with a wet, sticky clicks, and looked at each other again.

"I'd be honoured." She hummed and he embraced her, laying back behind her, their hands entwined on her womb.

"I love you." He whispered in her ear so quietly he wasn't sure she heard it.

He felt her body twitch, however, she said nothing.

He had a feeling she was crying again.

She didn't respond to his confession, but she didn't need to.

He knew how she felt.

The words left his chest with such lightness that he felt surprised. He sunk his face into her soft dark hair, and fell asleep surrounded by the warmth of her body.

In the morning, he rose before dawn and left immediately after the servant helped him put on his armour, not wanting to wake her. He headed for the tent where all the commanders, including his brother, were waiting for him.

He and Royce threw each other warning glances, but his wife's older brother broke and nodded before him.

He knew that telling his sister about their father's bastard child had been a mistake, and now he feared that Borros would find out that she knows.

Beside him, he also saw his uncle, his mother's brother, Gwayn Hightower, a tower with flame on the top on his armour, a green cloak on his left shoulder. He bowed before him respectfully.

"My Prince. In accordance with the will of my father, and your grandfather, and my nephew-king, I arrive with reinforcements to bring a final end to the cause of the Black's." He said calmly.

He nodded, inviting him with a gesture of his hand to join the entire gathering. Along with his uncle came several other commanders, vassals of House Hightower.

He nodded to the rest of the men, and a tense silence ensued around him. Daeron stood at his right side, looking almost manly in his armour. He swallowed loudly at this thought and began to speak, looking at the map in front of him.

"Prince Daemon came up with the idea to find bastards born of dragon blood and train them to be dragon riders. Help them tame free dragons in the caves beyond the sea." He said, and a commotion echoed around him, the men beginning to whisper to each other anxiously. Borros leaned with his hands on the table, looking at him expectantly.

"Is it possible? How many such dragons can be found around Dragonstone and Vale?" He asked lowly.

"Too many. In accordance with my brother-king's wishes, I have ordered my trusted men to deal with any known dragon bastards. I hope they die within the next few days." He said calmly, the men looked at each other with uncertainty, Daeron glancing at him, shifting anxiously from foot to foot.

"What if they've already found someone? If they're already training them?" Borros continued. He sighed heavily.

"Then we will find ourselves in trouble, my Lord." He said with emphasis. "However, a dragon is not a slave, the fact that they will be able to get on top of them does not necessarily mean that they will obey their orders."

Borros snorted.

"It is enough for them to breathe fire at their command. Is it not?" He asked disapprovingly. His uncle grunted loudly, stepping closer to the table.

"In that case… if we have such suspicions… shouldn't we attack beforehand? Surprise them?" He asked, glancing at Borros, clearly seeing him as the commander-in-chief of the entire war, which indeed he was. Lord Baratheon shook his head.

"They will destroy us. They will hide among the hills, they will have a perfect view of us from above. We will be in the field open, their archers and crossbowmen will destroy us before we can reach their army." He said impatiently, pointing with a circular motion of his hand to the mountainous area on the map described as the Vale. Lord Hightower pressed his lips together.

"However, if we were to surprise them, if it was suddenly my nephews who attacked the Eyrie where Prince Daemon now resides on their dragons, they could prepare the ground for our cavalry and infantry to attack. They think we are afraid of them, that we will not move, meanwhile they are growing stronger every day." He said, looking at the men around him.

He looked at the men around him and understood what they were thinking about.

They were afraid.

Everyone wanted to return alive to their homes.

Everyone hoped that the war had a chance to end peacefully.

He knew, however, that with Rhaenyra's letter confirming Jace as heir to the throne, it had dashed any hope of peace in his eyes.

He made his decision the moment he saw Caraxes flame embrace Harrenhal.

The moment he thought his wife was dead.

"My uncle is right." He said, trying to hide the tremor in his voice, the horror of what he was doing. He put his hands on the table top, his heart pounding like mad.

He was doing it. The decision was his.

Either he would make the move, or Daemon would.

And then they would all die.

"We will attack them tomorrow before dawn, so that they will not see us. We will fly up quietly, our army will wait behind the hills and will only come out to attack when they see the flames burning the Eyrie." He said and looked at his wife's father.

Borros watched him with a look he had never seen from him before – terror and concern mingled in his eyes, as if he had just realised that his daughter's husband was not much older than her.

Although my mother treats my wife as her daughter, you do not treat me as your son.

He looked at him, pleading in his mind for advice.

For the support he had never experienced from his father.

For strength.

Borros finally nodded, swallowing hard.

"We need to plan all this carefully." He said, turning after a moment to the servants standing at the entrance. "Inform the sub-commanders to begin preparations for the march on the Eyrie. They are to be ready before nightfall arrives."

He looked at him wide-eyed, not believing what he said.

He supported him.

He supported him in front of everyone.

He showed no hesitation even though he could, despite the risks he was taking on himself and his firstborn son.

He did what his own father could not.

He did not let him down.

He lowered his gaze at the thought of what he had said to him and felt ashamed.

However, it was too late.

For the next few hours they spoke without any interruption about the plan of action, explaining exactly the order in which they would carry out each step. Aemond and Daeron were to fly to the front of the army under cover of darkness, attacking only in the Eyrie.

At their cue, their army was to take the attack by storm.

When all was clear and decided, Borros came out of the tent saying that he needed to speak to his daughter. He felt a squeeze in his stomach and looked at Royce, who threw him a hateful glance.

He knew that Royce did not agree with his decision, that he thought he was leading them to their deaths, to unnecessary suffering.

However, he did not say a word because he was true to his father.

Because he was a good son who loved and respected his sire.

He felt a sudden stab of jealousy at this thought and lowered his gaze, ashamed.

Once everyone had left he looked at his little brother and saw that he was pale, his lips tightened into line. He put his hand on his shoulder, wanting to give him encouragement.

"We're going to do this together. You and me." He said calmly, and his brother looked at him, fear and gratitude in his eyes at the same time.

Daeron surprised him completely when he suddenly hugged him and he froze, not knowing what to do.

He thought with pain that his brother was in fact still a child, and he had just told him that he would go into battle with him in the front line, that everything depended on their success.

He gave him a strong hug and felt Daeron tremble. He pressed his lips together, thinking reproachfully that all his life he had been afraid to show any weakness, but now that he was holding his terrified younger brother in his embrace he realised that there was nothing in it to belittle him and he himself felt better with the fear that filled his heart.

Daeron, clearly ashamed of his momentary weakness and the reactions of his body that he could not control let him go, grunted and said he would go and get ready.

He went to the table, took a piece of parchment and quickly wrote a letter, which he rolled up. He called a servant and told him that the message was to be delivered as soon as possible to the King himself before the evening.

After everything was done, he went outside, feeling strangely heavy and tired, his stomach, heart and throat unpleasantly clenched.

He walked into the tent and saw his wife snuggled up to her father, a river of tears on her red, swollen face. Her father was embracing her as his father-king had never embraced him.

Tenderly, with care, warmth, love and attention.

Borros kissed her hair and let her go, heading for the entrance, and she led him away with terrified eyes, her lips slightly parted in helplessness. She looked at him suddenly, and he felt crushed under the weight of that gaze.

He was leaving her.

He was leaving her, never to return perhaps.

He looked at her figure, which seemed to him even tinier than usual, her hand placed on her womb as if to protect their child from his decision, from what was about to happen. He approached her slowly and stepped over her, looking down at her.

"If I do not return, you will do whatever Rheanyra wants. You will bend the knee. Do you understand?" He asked coolly, feeling his lower lip tremble as he spoke the words.

She would not burn with him.

Even if he died, she was going to live.

She shook her head, looking at him with wide eyes as if she did not understand the meaning of the words she had just heard, a tear involuntarily flowed from the corner of her eye.

"Daemon has a weakness for you, moreover you're with child. You will say that I forced you and according to his will you tried to convince me to change my mind. If your father and brother survive, also let them submit to the will of my uncle and my sister. I will not consider this a betrayal against me." He spoke the last sentence in a whisper, cupping her red, wet face in his hands with a gentleness he would not have suspected himself of a year earlier.

"− don't leave me −" She mumbled with difficulty, her throat squeezed, her breathing ragged and loud, shaky. He felt a sting in his heart at this sight.

"− you promised me that after Harrenhal you would never leave me again − take me with you − I want to be by your side − I −" She said suddenly, clamping her hand on the epaulet of his armour, looking at him pleadingly.

She didn't finish because his lips pressed violently into hers drawing a helpless, drawn-out squeal from her, his hands clamped on her hair and neck pulling her to him suddenly, her body slamming against his armour. Their kisses were a mixture of their wet lips, sticky tongues, panting and shuddering cries breaking out again and again from her throat.

She threw her arms around his shoulders, pressing his face closer to hers, seeking comfort in his embrace, in his lips, his breath and his gaze. He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing unevenly, feeling his heart beat hard.

"I want to spend the next few hours with you and our child."

He wasn't sure where her body began and his ended. He was panting with his lips parted as he looked at her with misty eyes, embracing her waist with one hand, the other holding her face close to his as they sat on their bed, his hips rocking lazily inside her as she sank and rose on his length.

Her movements were slow and tender, not so much seeking fulfilment as craving complete closeness, the warmth that only two bare bodies could give each other.

He kissed the salty tears from her hot, rosy cheeks, brushing her nose, her jaw, her neck with his puffy lips, trying to remember the sight, to focus only on her and not on what lay ahead.

After a while, she stopped moving and just embraced him, pressing her face against his, stroking his cheeks with her fingers. His hard, fat erection pulsed hard inside her, but he didn't move either.

Neither of them was about fulfilment now, and they both knew it.

He hugged her close and she hid her face in the hollow of his neck, her sweat-wet breasts pressed against his chest, her hot womb against his abdomen. She was safe, locked in his embrace, filled to the brim with him.

He wanted to stay with her.

He wanted to be able to be a coward.

To sink into the body of the woman he loved and fall asleep beside her.

But he couldn't.

"Promise me you'll come back to me." She whispered softly, and he pressed his lips together, feeling a tightness in his throat, an unpleasant pain stinging his chest. He was silent for a moment, feeling her whole body tremble with despair in his embrace. He licked his lips before the words left his mouth.

"I promise."

_____

Taglist 1

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[yanderes-galore]

Romantic yandere Geto Suguru concept

I actually enjoyed watching the transition of Geto's characters in Volumes 8 -> 9 so I just had to write for him. For him, my thoughts went from "Oh, I like him!" to "Oh, I'm scared of him!"

In the future, if you want to request him, put if you want Jujutsu Sorcerer! Geto or Curse User! Geto. Then if you want Fake! Geto, you can just say that or "Kenjaku" I guess.

Possible Spoiler Alert For Volumes 8 -> 9 of JJK

Yandere! Suguru Geto Concept

(Jujutsu Sorcerer! Geto and Curse User! Geto)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Violence, Genocide mention, Blood, Kidnapping, Degrading behavior, Human pet mention, Murder, Dark themes, Isolation, Forced relationship.

Okay, I'll say this now...

JS! Geto's darling could be either a non-sorcerer or a Jujutsu Sorcerer like him.

CU! Geto would have a Jujutsu Sorcerer darling or a non-sorcerer pet.

He goes through a drastic change in character I've noticed... and it scares me as it's depicted really well in the manga.

JS! Geto would fully be on board with protecting his darling.

If you aren't someone who sees curses, you're like the one friend he has that isn't in his immediate circle of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

He cares about you, while Gojo mocks him for having a soft spot for a non-sorcerer... Geto doesn't care since he enjoys your company.

Geto also wishes to protect and care for you if you are a fellow Jujutsu Sorcerer.

This is before everything that's happened... before he gained a God Complex and lost his way.

He tries not to use lethal force and has a righteous attitude.

He truly does care about you before he loses his way... but I imagine he isn't quite sure how to confess such feelings.

However, even Gojo can tell Geto is fond of you.

He speaks about you with praise regardless on your relations to curses and that only ever changes after "the incident".

He allows you to talk to him, if you're a non-sorcerer he takes the curses attracted to you off.

He'd do anything for you... he just tries to keep things professional and tries to hide such emotions.

Gojo no doubt jokes about Geto dating you... which causes fights, as expected.

He's not usually a physical yandere regardless of what Geto we're talking about.

He probably tries as a JS, but apologizes in case you react badly.

His tone shifts later, after the change of mind and literal genocide.

He's even more manipulative, violent, egotistical, malicious, and dangerous.

I refer to this Geto as CU! Geto, or Curse User! Geto.

Geto would be overly fond and manipulative towards a Jujutsu Sorcerer/Curse User! Darling.

However, with that same non-sorcerer! Darling as before?

They become a pet.

He hates non-sorcerers by this point.

What irritates him even more is he still has feelings towards you.

No matter how much he tries to deny himself or ignores it, he's still fond towards you.

So he makes you a pet, still a monkey... but you're his.

He feeds off your cursed energy and comes off degrading and condescending.

Geto calls you lucky, perhaps he won't slaughter you like the rest.

You feel like a trophy more than anything.

As a Jujutsu Sorcerer/Curse User, however... Geto is still manipulative yet affectionate.

He more openly admits the feelings he has for you and praises you.

He probably gives you lessons and manipulates you to garner loyalty.

He adores you... hell, even as a pet he likes you to some extent.

You silently miss the old Geto, you liked him before.

This one only scares you... makes you cry...

He isn't Geto in your eyes.

Yet... none of that matters now, does it?

One way or another, Geto will have you completely under his control.

He'll slaughter those around you... parents, relatives, friends... after all, he killed his own parents.

He'll isolate you, kidnap you if he has to...

Geto has embraced his dark desires fully.

Morality doesn't matter anymore.

He'll feed from you, train you, and coat you both in blood to have you...

He isn't Geto anymore, not to you...

He's a monster wearing the face of the one you once cared for.

(Ironic)

[jadewolf22]

Hiiiii!! Could I request a Lady Jane and Wife Reader, with some domestic fluff (at least, as domestic as Lady Jane can get if you know what I mean). Maybe something like they've been apart for a really long time hunting bounties and manage to meet up for their anniversary or sm?

Happy Anniversary

Sub!Lady Jane x Dom!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Guns, mentions of extreme violence, mentions of scars, mentions of kidnapping/hunting children, smut, oral (J recieving), thigh riding (r recieving), fingering (J receiving), strap-on (J receiving), orgasm denial, ect… 

Summary: You give your lady a special gift for your first wedding anniversary.

A/n: Hi anon!! Thank you so much for the request! This is my first time ever writing for Lady Jane, so I hope I did her justice. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to include smut, but a married couple who hasn’t seen each other in a while probably wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of each other…Word Count: 3,012

You couldn’t stop the sign that escaped your lips as you entered the threshold of your home, dropping your duffle bag and the bag of groceries you’d bought on the floor as you removed your jacket. The quaint little farmhouse that had been your childhood home was quiet, secluded by miles of dead fields and thick woodlands. You ran your fingertips over the bench along the wall, pleased to see that not too much dust had collected since your last stay. Work kept you away for weeks, sometimes months at a time and there was no one to stay and clean the place while you were gone. 

Moving away from the threshold and into the living room you smiled softly, taking a moment to walk around and glance at the multitude of pictures decorating the space. Most of the ones on the walls and bookcases were from your younger years; birthdays, vacations with your parents, school activities and accomplishments, holidays and such. But it was the ones above the hearth that you loved the most. Jane, your lady and beloved partner, wasn’t one for taking many photos so there were only a few on the mantle, and you cherished each one like they were diamonds; Your first date at the shooting range, one of her birthdays at the bar, your first Valentine's Day hunting in the woods, a few engagement photos taken while you were working a job together, and one of your wedding here one the farm placed at the centre of them all. It was your first anniversary today, exactly one year of pure happiness for the two of you despite the gruesome reality of your jobs as bounty hunters. 

The sound of tires against gravel drew you from your thoughts. You were sure you knew who it was but, just in case, you gripped the glock tusked into the waistband of your jeans as you moved to the window, peering out through the curtains. The sight of a gold car parking beside yours allowed you to relax, letting go of the weapon as you rushed back outside. You’d barely given Jane time to close her door before you were on her, strong, toned arms grabbing her by the waist and lifting her off the ground as you embraced the love of your life. A light chuckle left her lips, demanding that you set her down before she hugged you in return. 

“I missed you, my love.” you said breathily—lifting Jane off the ground was no easy feat, despite how strong you were—kissing her gently.

“And I, you.” she returned, cracking the smallest smile.

You couldn’t have stopped the large grin that spread across your face even if you wanted to, insisting that you take her things before escorting her into the house. Jane found it quite adorable how you insisted on pampering her with even the smallest tasks, such as carrying her luggage—granted, it was only two duffle bags, one filled with her guns and extra magazines. Once inside you added your own bag to the load and headed upstairs, setting the bags down on your bed before you pulled her to you and kissed her again, this one a little deeper than the last. 

“Happy anniversary, Jane.” you breathed.

“Is it our anniversary already?” she teased lightly, kissing your cheek, “My, does the time fly.”

“Indeed it does.” you agreed, moving away and beginning to unpack your bag. 

Jane did the same, the two of you unpacking in a comfortable silence. You’d missed her terribly, her presence alone helping to soothe the ache that had built up after a month apart. When you were both unpacked and her guns properly cleaned and stored away the two of you headed back downstairs, putting away the groceries and preparing dinner as you talked about your most recent jobs. Yours had been easy; a couple of greens that had escaped the compound two months back, but Jane’s had been far more difficult. She’d gotten stuck with a group of yellows who’d disappeared nearly a year ago and, apparently, they had put up quite a fight. You hated it when she took the more dangerous jobs, always afraid that one day, one of them might kill her. But you knew that Jane could hold her own and, the more dangerous the job, the better the pay. A part of you felt sorry for the kids the two of you hunted, but you knew the world was safer without them. Children with supernatural powers were a recipe for disaster.

When the food was ready the two of you sat down to eat, easily falling back into the domestic pattern you’d adopted. It was easy to push the exhaustion and anxiety of your jobs when you were like this, content and at peace in your little corner of the world. 

The meal was delicious, Jane's cooking far better than your own, and much more satisfying than the protein bars and canned food you lived off of while working. When you’d both finished, you took care of the dishes while Jane showered—despite how much you’d begged her to wait so you could join her. Once the dishes were done it was your turn to head upstairs, showering quickly and trading your dirty jeans and t-shirt for leggings and a tank top. Stepping out of the bathroom you found Jane stretched out on her side of the bed, damp brown hair cascading over her shoulders and a book in hand. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of big-bad Lady Jane looking so utterly adorable and domestic in grey sweats and a baggy red t-shirt. 

She looked up from the book before you could hide your smile, muttering, “What?” as she set it aside.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, moving towards your side of the bed, “I’m just glad you’re home. You know how worried I get when you take jobs involving yellows.” 

Jane rolled her eyes at your protectiveness, mumbling, “At least they’re not reds or oranges.” sitting up as you fished through the drawer of your nightstand, producing a black box and smiling as you sat down, presenting it to her.

“Happy anniversary, my lady.”

She rolled her eyes again at the nickname, taking the box from you and opening it with a small gasp. Nestled inside was a golden glock, the handle engraved with little vines that made both of your initials. 

“It’s beautiful, y/n.” she whispered, looking up at you, “Where did you even—?”

“I have a friend who specialises in engraving guns.” you explained, trying to suppress just how happy her reaction made you, “I  swung by his place on my way back home… Is it safe to assume you like it?”

“I love it.” you knew she did, but hearing Jane say it aloud made you ten times happier, “My turn.”

She reached over to her nightstand, plucking a little red box off of it that you had, somehow, failed to notice earlier. A cheshire-like grin adorned her face as she handed the box to you, making you that much more excited to see what was inside. Nearly tearing off the lid, your eyes fell on the silver bracelet lying against the black velvet lining of the box. At first glance, it looked like a simple band but, upon picking it up, you noticed her name engraved on the inside. Smirking, you had her help you but the bracelet on, noticing just how snuggly it fit your wrist. You laughed, realising that her name would be temporarily branded onto your skin if you wore it for long enough—and you had no intention of ever taking it off. 

“It’s perfect.” you said softly, “Thank you.”

You leaned forward and kissed her again, smiling against her lips when her hand crept up your neck to thread itself in your hair. A groan escaped you when you felt her tug at your hair, making you kiss her that much harder as you grabbed her hips and pulled her across the bed to you, manoeuvring the both of you until you were straddling her waist in the middle of the bed without breaking the kiss. Jane whimpered a little as you manhandled her, her hands moving to the hem of your tank top and pulling it up your torso. You broke the kiss just long enough for her to pull the item over your head before your lips were attacking hers again, your leggings quickly following your shirt. Sliding your hands under her shirt, you gripped the waistband of her sweatpants, removing them and her underwear in one fluid motion. Her t-shirt was torn down the middle and haphazardly tossed somewhere in the room. 

You paused for a moment and sat up, marvelling at the beauty beneath you. God, she was a masterpiece. Ivory skin that seemed to glow in the dim evening light, pale freckles splattered across her chest and shoulders, icy blue eyes dark with want, thick, deep brown hair that seemed nearly black against the white sheets underneath her, and a perfectly toned body with small, perky breasts that were practically begging for attention. You growled, your lips and teeth abusing her neck and shoulders, leaving bite-marks and bruises for her to find for days after you were done with her while your hands palmed her breasts. Jane panted and squirmed beneath you, nails tearing down your back as he hand nestled itself in your hair again, tugging harshly and scratching at your scalp. 

“Please, y/n—God! I need you!” she whined, bucking her hips up towards you in search of some kind of friction.

“Miss me so much you’re needy already, hmm?” you teased, your mouth replacing one of your hands as you nipped harshly at her breast, causing Jane to release a low, near pornographic moan.

She opened her mouth to argue but, at that moment you plunged two fingers deep into her cunt and whatever she was about to say was replaced with a loud, broken moan. A steady string of “Ah, ah, ah”s fell from her lips as your digits pounded into her, your mouth moving to her other breast as your hand settled on her throat, squeezing gently. 

“Mh—feel so good, baby.” you muttered against her skin, slipping in a third finger when the first two began to move within her too easily. 

“Mph, please y/n, harder!” she cried as she felt her cunt streatch deliciously around your fingers, her nails digging painfully into your back and scalp as your digits slammed into her walls, “Yes! God, yes— Just like that—Ah!”

You tightened your grip on her throat a bit as you sat up, groaning at the sight of her cunt taking your fingers so deep that your wedding ring disappeared when you were fully inside of her, the titanium band coming out glistening with her arousal. Her cunt clenched around her fingers, her thighs tightening around your hand as she neared her climax but, just before she could fall over the edge, you pulled away. Jane went to complain, but the way your hand squeezed her throat in warning made her go silent. You licked your fingers clean, groaning at the taste of her on your skin. 

“Relax, baby. You’ll get what you want.” you assured, reaching into the drawer of your nightstand and retrieving your harness and favourite strap, “You’ve just gotta be patient.”

Jane bit her lip as she watched you attach the strap to your body. The black, 8-inch was not the largest she’d taken from you, but it was most certainly the thickest. She released a sound between a whine and a groan as you teased her with the tip, nearly screaming when you began to force it into her, your hand coming back to her throat. The silicone cock stretched her cunt to the point where Jane felt as if she was being split in two and she loved it, her body tightening as a searing heat spread through her as you buried the strap up to the hilt inside her, beads of sweat making Jane’s skin glisten. Once she gave you the go-ahead you set a harsh, ruthless pace, hard, deep strokes filling her cunt so well it was a wonder she didn’t cum right then. Your grunts and Jane’s screams filled the room and it was moments like this that you were especially grateful your house was in the middle of nowhere. No one but yourselves and the animals could hear you.

“Miss you so much, my lady,” you grunted as you thrust into her, one hand still on her throat, the other harshly gripping her hip, “Missed having your pretty little cunt stretched out around my cock—Fuck, baby, I missed you—!”

“M-missed you, t-too!” Jane stampered, her hands moving to your hips to help guide your thrusts, “Missed your touch—! M-missed you in me—Shit, y/n, please make me cum!! Wanna cum so bad—!”

“I know, baby. Just hold on a bit longer. You’re doing so well for me—” you praised as her hands moved from her hips, one grasping at the bedsheet, the other wrapping around your wrist. The black diamond on her wedding ring glinted in the light as her body jolted with each of your thrusts.

“Mmmh—Fuck, y/n! Please—please, keep going! ‘M so close—Shit, y/n! I-I’m—I’m gonna cum— pleasepleaseplease!”

“Just hold on a bit longer, baby.” you said, slowing down your movements just a bit and making Jane practically cry, “Just a bit more, my lady. You’re almost there.”

You removed your hand from her hip, sliding it down between her legs to rub gentle circles over her clit. Her whole body contracted with the added pleasure, shaking in desperate need of release.

“Y/N—!!”

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

“F-f-f-FUCK—!” Jane finished with a loud scream, legs tightening around your hips, back arching off the bed. Stars exploded behind her eyes and, for a moment, she couldn’t see. Her body felt as if she were floating as she relaxed back into the mattress, brain fuzzy and her mouth numb, her throat already burning from screaming so much. You slowed down as she rode out her high, stopping completely and taking a moment to admire just how ethereal she looked like this, skin flushed and slick with sweat, her head thrown back in euphoria, eyes scrunched tight and jaw slack. Slowly so as not to jostle or startle her, you reached out and cupped her face, gently stroking your thumb against her cheek.

“You did such a good job, baby.” you praised, releasing her throat as her eyes opened, unfocused and her pupils blown out, “Come on back to me, my lady. That’s it. I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

Jane mumbled out a hoarse, “okay” and you slowly pulled out of her, the strap coated in her release. You removed the toy from your body and threw it on top of your clothes to be cleaned later, bending over and placing gentle licks and kisses over her bruising neck as you moved to position yourself on her thigh. 

“My turn.” you husked, lowering yourself onto her thigh, “You just lay back and relax, baby.”

Jane sighed when she felt your slick core against her skin, whimpering a little as you began to rock yourself against her. Watching her unravel beneath you had made you so pent up that it didn’t take you long until you were nearing an orgasm, your breath laboured and thighs shaking.

“Mm, you feel so good against me,” you groaned in her ear, leaning forward and changing her head with your arm, practically laying on top of her as you rutted against her thigh, “So perfect. And all mine.” 

Jane whined, nodding frantically, heavy arms reaching up to wrap around your shoulders. WIth a final snap of your hips, you came, smearing your slick across her skin and you moaned against her shoulder. Sighing, you sat up and kissed her, your fingers dancing over her stomach. 

“Think you can take one more, my lady?” you asked gently, your tone making it clear that she had the choice of saying no, “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Jane nodded and you smiled, kissing her again as you slid down her body, levelling your face with her soaked cunt. You licked a broad stripe up her slit, placing a gentle kiss to her clit, making Jane shudder. Smiling, you licked at her folds, slowly forcing your tongue deeper inside of her, your nose brushing against her bundle of nerves. Jane whimpered above you, hands threading into your hair to keep you in place. Still recovering from her past orgasm, it didn’t take you long to bring her to the edge again.

“P-please, y/n—” Jane muttered, tears slipping down her cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure, “uh-ah! I’m-I’m gonna—!”

“Go ahead, baby.” you whispered, plunging your tongue deep inside her. 

Jane came again with a shuddering moan, her release flooding your mouth and spilling down your chin. You lapped away at her release, cleaning her cunt with your tongue before moving up to kiss her again, sliding your tongue into her mouth so that she could taste herself on you. 

Pulling away, you climbed off of her, grabbed the strap, and padded off to the bathroom, cleaning yourself and the toy before returning with a warm washcloth, gently cleaning her thighs and burning folds. Taking the cloth and both of your clothes you set them in the hamper, handing her the water bottle on your nightstand as you set off all the lights except for your lamp. Once she’d drunk enough you helped her beneath the covers and crawled into bed beside her, covering her body with your own.

“Happy anniversary, Jane.” you muttered, kissing the back of her head. 

Jane hummed, releasing a large sigh before exhaustion overtook her and fell asleep. You smiled down at your wife, reaching behind you to shut off the lamp, welcoming the darkness as your eyes fluttered closed.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

My Love Is A Dagger

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ violence, self harm, feelings of unworthiness, angst, durge having imposter syndrome, p-in-v, sub/dom, vulnerable sex, hurt/comfort, tenderness

Getting close to her absolution, the urge is reaching a fever pitch. She has to take drastic measures to protect the one she loves...

-

Waking from another nightmare she stared at the roof of his tent, trying to stay quiet. Tears sliding down the sides of her face, chest heaving.

Well, nightmare is not the right word. A demented wet dream is closer.

Her confrontation with her bloodkin on the precipice, her sanctioned return to her home. The temple of her origin. Gods she dreaded it and was repeatedly proved right.

Already nearing oblivion when she had to run for her life, well his life, the night she was nearly lost.

The urge had taken a new tactic since then; barraging her with arousing dreams of her unrealized violence. Her hands dealing untold death. Waves of blood and pleasure.

This was the first time her violent dreams had been about him, so it must be getting desperate. Gods, cutting him open and watching the life drain from his eyes. She shivered at the thought.

Aware of the wetness between her legs she grimaced, ashamed.

Enough. She'd had enough.

He laid in trance next to her, tranquil. Hand holding her waist. None the wiser.

A fresh and violent need ripped through her at the sight of him, almost blinding her. Reaching for her dagger, just give in. Give in and it will stop. Stop, stop, stop.

White knuckled around the blade, she stared at him. Her love, his soft breathing. Face so foolishly relaxed, his long lashes kissing his cheeks. So beautiful.

She can make it quick, just do it.

Take him apart.

Driving the dagger down into her hand she muffled a cry. Felt the tip meet the blankets nestled under them. The pain excruciating but itching the need. Blood is blood.

"Mmphh," She heard him starting to wake.

Of course. Blood. Fuck she did not think this through.

She slowly, carefully, maneuvered her body out from his side. Feeling his hand reach for her as she got up. His sleeping body whining discontently.

"I'll be back in a moment." She whispered to him, kissing his hairline. Holding her dripping hand as far from him as she could.

Sneaking out, shocked she got away with it she hurried to the stream nearby. Though she wanted to pace for a while, an old habit, she knew she should return quickly. It made him nervous, for obvious reasons, when she would slip away.

Dipping her screaming wound in the cool water she closed her eyes. Laughing meanly at herself.

Gods he deserved better. Better than a broken machine that was made to fulfill one purpose. How happy, how content he could be with a fresh new thing. A sweet flower who could lay next to him all night and shower him with love. Nothing but adoration in their mind.

How good that would be for him, something soft. Something holy.

Her tears dropping in the water. A shallow sob pulling through her throat. The moving water red with her shame.

She wanted to run, run until she broke apart entirely. Let him, all of their companions, live without her, be free. Their love entirely misplaced, it would be better suited for someone else.

She ripped a long strip from her shirt tiredly, wrapping it tight around her palm. Some blood still seeping to the surface, but it would have to do.

On tip-toe she hushed back into his tent. Slipping under the covers, she tried to push all thought from her mind. Turning to slot back into his embrace. Would have to figure out a way to explain her hand in the morning. Gods nothing was ever simple.

His eyes were open and trained on her. Unreadable.

Shit.

She tried to come up with a plausible reason why she had gotten up, why she had the telltale tang of blood on her. Mind racing, but coming up short. The pain in her hand clouding her.

"Where did you go?" He asked, caring but suspicious. "And why do I smell blood?"

"I-" she started, eyes still tight with tears.

She knew he loved her, would want to talk with her about what's bothering her. That made it worse. Gods why did they all care so deeply for her? They knew what she was. Had they no sense?

She took a shaky breath out, decided on the truth. "I wanted to hurt you again."

Pulling on her forearm he brought her bandaged hand to his face. Kissing it softly. Eyes swimming with emotion.

He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, pressing a kiss into her cheek, her jaw.

"And do you still want to hurt me?" He murmured, hand threading behind her head.

"No, not now." She sighed into his touch, allowing herself to be pulled under his body. Intoxicated. "But I will." She added, trying to realign the conversation.

"But you wont." He countered, voice sure. "You're stronger than that." Hand pulling up on her waist, nuzzling into her neck.

"I missed you." Lips brushing against her skin. Hands adoring but needful.

"Astarion, I was only gone for a moment." She sighed, her will breaking. He had such a way of making her fall apart. His touch heaven.

"I hate when you leave me at night." He pressed his words into her throat, "You should always be here." Patting the bedroll.

"Here with me... would you like that? Being bound to me?"

Her eyes went wide at this line of questioning. Astarion was not an altruistic man, not interested in sharing. He had been a careful and attentive lover but she knew this about him.

She had seen the near imperceptible cut in his eyes when Halsin would put a hand on her back. The slight taut in his forearms when Gale leaned in and touched her bicep, talking excitedly about the soup he was working on.

Had seen glimpses of a possessive pull but brushed it off. He had never forbade her from seeking out other bodies. She hadn't, mind, but it wasn't off the table. Though they were so close he had never brought this up before.

His voice hot with need now, lips pulling and nipping at her neck. She groaned, arching into him.

"I want you all to myself." He moaned. Hands pulling her shirt up over her head. "They all look at you. Want you. But they cant have you."

Mouth worshipping her clavicle, the curve of her breast. Now down to just her soaking underclothes. She spread her legs wide, her hands pushing his hips into her.

"Please, be just mine."

She understood that this was a confession, a desire. A deep longing that he was sharing with her. Found herself wrapped up in it.

"You can have me however you want me." She moaned truthfully. "Take what you need." Pulling his head to her breast.

He growled into her, mouth descending on her hard peak. Licking suckling circles around her.

She bucked into him, a high whine. Hands shaking she pulled open the ties on his trousers. The air heavy with a desperate lust.

Already at full mast she wrapped her hand around him, slowly pumping.

He groaned a whimper into her chest. Hand fumbling at her underclothes. Never leaving her body, forearm bracing himself next to her head.

It was very unlike him to skip foreplay, Gods he was usually content to torture her for what felt like hours. That wicked grin all over his face. Often not even finding his end.

Now he was vibrating with need, his breath hot against her torso.

"I'm yours. I'm yours." She chanted into the curl of his hair as he came back up, her underclothes hanging from one shin. Already wet from her midnight emissions, she was drenched now. Pulling up her leg to give him room.

He aligned himself and pushed inside her, a little choke in his throat.

His pace slow and careful, almost nervous. She rested her arm up around his back, her wounded hand cradling his head. Hips coming up to meet him. "You feel so good." She whispered into him.

His other arm coming up to brace him, his pace breaking. Hips coming in harder, sloppier. His breath a loud pant.

"Keep talking," He urged, voice strained.

"Gods you're perfect. Fuck, the way you stretch me..." She groaned, the words tumbling out.

"I crave this when we're apart. Your body all over me." His pace reaching brutality. Hips snapping hard into her. His pants a fast rhythmic plea.

"I want you to come deep inside me. Is that what you want?" She forced out through her rising climb.

"Yes, oh Gods yes," He whimpered, sweat pooling on his brow, dripping down his jaw. She leaned up to lick it off him.

Hand coming to wrap gently around his throat. "Like this? Do you want to fill me like this?"

Saw his eyes go wide then hitch back in his head. "Yes," he groaned. "Harder."

She pressed more on his clavicle, fingers clenching slightly.

"You come when I say you do."

He nodded, eyes pulled shut hard in concentration. Hips rolling into her. His face in strained ecstasy.

The sight of her slender hand on his throat igniting her. So so close to what she needed. Wrapping python around his hips, coming up to grind hard into him. Animal. Feral.

His forearms shaking. Fingernails digging into the sheets. Muffled little yelps as her hips hit him.

"Do you want me to come all over you? Riding myself on you like this?"

He whined into her hold, eyes wide. Biting his lower lip. Nodding fervently. Pleading.

His sweet eyes too much, she erupted. Going rigid against him. A strangled shriek as she rode the punishing wave. Clenching down in vicious pulses around him.

He buckled down, cursing weakly, her pull almost collapsing him. Hips still pushing as far into her as he could. So very nearly undone, his hair wet with sweat. Face flushed. A mess.

"Now."

His eyes screwing shut he shattered into her. She shoved her wrist into his mouth to muffle him, a keening cry into her flesh. Biting down on instinct, blood bursting against his mouth.

Her hand pushing on his throat. Driving her hips into him, again and again. Only the whites of his eyes visible, eyelids stuttering. Shaking and writhing over her. A last desperate thrust as she felt the fullness inside. Already leaking out over her backside.

She gently cupped his chin, kissing him soft. Her blood smearing across her face. Licking it with a groan into her mouth.

"Was that too much?" She asked, coming back to herself.

He laughed, still a panting mess. Wiping his face, grabbing some cloth and cleaning their spill from her. Pulling her to lay on his chest.

"That was incredible, darling." The shocked elation evident in his voice. Licking up the stray blood from her wrist. "Gods I dont know if I've ever had it like that before."

She believed him, the vulnerability still making her heart thrill.

"Was it too much for you?" He murmured, hand trailing her shoulder, her forearm.

"I dont know." She answered truthfully. "I did like it. A lot."

After a moment of quiet, the insect song on the air, she spoke. "Did you mean what you said, about being yours?"

"Yes." He said simply. "Well, yes and no. I want you to be mine, but not my possession. You're free to leave me. If you want that. I want to be yours only."

"Oh have you been seeing someone on the side? Anyone I know?" She teased.

"I'm serious, my love."

"Of course," She said, smiling over at him. "I'm all yours. Until one of our violent ends." Her heart getting heavy again, the pain in her hand a visceral reminder. "Or you finally, correctly, decide to be done with me."

His eyebrows threaded together for a moment. "Do you think that? That I should leave you?"

Fuck how did he cut through her so easily.

Her mouth formed a thin line, staring into his big soft crimson eyes.

"Yes." Closing her eyes, sighing. "Often."

"That's not your decision to make."

Hitting her hand against the tent floor in frustration. "I know."

Looking over at him, eyes sorrowful. "But you should really reconsider. You could do so much better."

"Find someone sweet, good. Someone who can love you in an untainted way, cherish you. Not try to kill you constantly. Gods that's the bare minimum." Laughed sharply at herself again. "Settle down, maybe get a little cottage. Or run some high end store. Fuck, maybe figure out how to pop out some babies that won't be destined to bring about the end of the world."

Cupping his cheek, eyes pleading. "You dont have to do this. You dont have to be stuck here, in this place with me."

"First off," He started, frustration flaring in his eyes. "I wouldnt even want children even if I could sire them." He shuddered. "Messy little things." She smiled, despite herself.

"And all of that domestication? With someone besides you? Dreadfully dull." He scoffed.

"In this little," Waving his hand flippantly. "Scenario of yours, am I just supposed to be a dutiful husband to some stranger? Just tottering around? All docile and plain? Darling, you have not worked this out in my favor at all."

"And as if," He got up on elbows, eyes bright in indignation. Oh he was really started now. "Resisting your urges at every turn does not prove that you are good, the best of us. The immense strength and compassion you hold."

"I killed Alfira..." She murmured, eyes down.

"You were asleep! Hell's below you-" Grabbing her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Are a bright burning light. You are good. You are everything to me."

"I would be dead, enslaved, twice over if you hadn't taken me in out of the kindness of your heart. I held a knife to your throat and you welcomed me with open arms! You are good!"

The tears spilling down her cheeks only spurned him on. "Ask anyone, our camp mates, Hells even some random on the streets of Lower City, and they will know you and sing your praises. You are not the make of your birth. Your worth is not the thing in your head."

"I know." She sniffled, cupped his hand holding her chin. "Its just so hard. All the time."

"I know, I know." He swept her into his arms. "We're going to help you. We've gotten out of worse, we'll figure a way to get it out of you. I'm not going anywhere my love." She melted into him, tears staining his shirt.

"I dont deserve you. Any of you. Thank you." She hushed into his collarbone.

"If you dont stop that I'm going to make you sleep outside."

She laughed wetly into his collar. Nuzzling her head deeper into him. "And miss me all night? You wouldn't dare."

He sighed. "You're impossible." Hands running up her sides, tangling in her hair. Groaning softly.

"Astarion, already?" She admonished. Gods he was insatiable now.

"Well I've got all night to defend my side of the argument, dont I?" He purred in her ear.

~

Part 6

[garnetea]

le dépôt de l'amour

who yandere! artist sanji x darling! fem muse y/n. length 364 words. byr nsfw/angst!, death, gore descriptions, unhealthily obsessive sanji, yes he's a murderer here- i craved violence, some french, written in third person, around the time of the renaissance if you want some setting. just brief madness.

leman's letter! p.s, the title should translate to "depository of love", more or less. i know i said zoro was coming.. he'll be here by the 12th.. okay? and at some point law will be making an appearance; expect more angst cus this was too entertaining to write. also, a reader of color is always intended when i write, i just didn't actually describe y/n as any shades here, so it's safe to imagine what you will. bitch can be yellow if you're a simpsons kinda fellow who cares??

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ★

Slowed pulses and spilled stomach links are the inspiration of artists, and the horror of muse's. His dainty hands caress mercy like a newborn, feeding it innocent nothingness and a warm embrace; he's not rich with milk. Her hair is the wind and the wind is white with grief, tinged orange with sour, citrus truths; her lips have churned and curdled into this.. pulpy blue with molding splotches of the forest. He fawns over her smile, certain that her heart's everlasting love has sewn itself into her greying cheeks. He sways and wiggles and shudders and giggles on his resplendent throne with adoration and absent-mindedness.

"Mon amour! Goodness.. even when your art has been perfected, I can't help but..." And the familiar tickle of blood outlines his cupids bow, once again. His most notorious representation of sincerity. "I can't help but bleed for you... as you do I.. ..Mmmph.. Thank you."

The windows have been locked since they were installed.

Oil paint, add just enough thinner to cremate her precious ashes in the field's decaying stubble, half a cap of linseed oil for lumpiness, and the most sacred rapier. Those brushes are for lazy lovers; blades are for the dedicated. Sanji would know. White streaks, dribbling red ribbons, rancid ridges over severed tendons in numb limbs; this is her. This is you.

And he's your monumental mason.

Digging through another pile of keys, another box of cold chalk and sandpaper strips; we're going to the gallery again. She's waltzing to the pearly gates-- and oh how she loved pearls and tall, elegant, locked, forbidden doors. She watches with a glacier's smile, it's the silver key with the square finger hold. Wind it up and wait for jack's jump scare, or burn the knob off when it doesn't open. If Eros would take one of the five hundred bows out of the poor artist's back, he'd know there's no key for this hell.

He'd know the difference between a morgue and a museum.

"Now, now, ma cherie, I'm sure you're feeling rather possessive with all of my darlings here so suddenly, but I promise, our love is like a Viola in January. You, Y/n, will always be my precious, precious, precious muse.."

★ garnetea productions. all rights reserved, do not plagiarize.