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beababoobies · 3 months

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GIRL I LOVE YOU

What do you think of a Jealous! Satoru husband x Beautiful! Reader's wife where they haven't had gogogo for months, their relationship is cold and Satoru is distant, so the reader goes to a nightclub to dance and Satoru in the middle of her missions finds her and gets very jealous? And then they confess their love to each other and have a happy night?

All the love from Venezuela my dear queen 🇻🇪🔥

Hihi!! Venezuela??? Un nuevo seguidor de habla hispana!!! hola! This looked so fun to write, so I jumped right on it. Enjoy fellow QWEEEN. <3 much love from Canada !!

warning: slight angsty, self-deprecation. This is unedited and not proof-read, so if you see any errors, please feel free to shoot me a dm! Thank you!!

There were some things you shared with your friends. Hobbies, personal details, clothes, but you couldn’t share how things had been going with your husband, Satoru. It would be way, way too embarrassing to talk about how you, first of all, hadn’t been intimate in months, and second all, barely spoke. You went to sleep in the same bed. You shared a closet. But the words exchanged between the two of you were so far and few in-between one could’ve assumed it had been an arranged marriage. The most you had gotten in the past handful of months had been a kiss on the cheek, and that was because you were visiting friends and didn’t want to look awkward. The drive back to your house was silent. You felt like screaming.

There was a million things bottled up in your mind, and even more importantly, your body. There was a screaming to have intimacy, obviously, human instinct - but there was something so much deeper, an insecurity you had been picking at like a scab that never healed. The dreadful thought that this was entirely your fault, that he wasn’t attracted to you anymore, or maybe you had said something wrong. You kept coming back to it, at night when you missed the feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the way he just gave you a small nod whenever you asked if he liked your outfit. The way you couldn’t bring yourself to try and rekindle the raging fire you once danced in, now burnt out and nothing above an amber.

So, one night, while the very man in question was out on one of his millions of missions, you let the insecurities get the best of you. You wanted to feel desired, you longed to feel as wanted and yearned over as you had when your husband took you out on those first could have dates. The way he tripped over himself when he used to open the door for you, feigning confidence. The memories lit a new flame in you - anger, as sharp as a blade and just as deadly as you dolled yourself back up, heels brand new and matching with the most scandalous outfit you owned - paired with your hair done up? Oh, you felt like your self-worth had turned from a penny to a fortune. Something not the richest men in the world could afford, not even your bum of a husband.

You felt anxiety bubble up in your stomach on the way to the club you used to hang around before you and Satoru had finally put a ring on it. What if you truly had somehow turned into some gross form of a human in the years you had been married? What if your late-night suspicions were correct, and Satoru was justified in the way he drifted off from you? What if you didn’t deserve him anymore, and you were trying to convince yourself of something completely untrue, instead of just begging him to stay?

The anxiety in your stomach melted away the second you stepped into the purple lights of the club. Eyes drifted to you, quicker than you had even anticipated. You almost felt dissected by the amount of pupils that dilated once they fell onto you. Like a sleek race car that had been kept in the garage for a decade, finally dusted off and speeding down the freeway, the wind in your hair. Sitting down the bar was easy, avoiding unwanted attention was not.

Okay, maybe it was a little unrealistic to want the looks but not to be approached. You did want to make Satoru jealous, maybe just a bit, but it would never cross your mind to actually cheat on your husband. To you, he was still the most handsome man you’d met in your entire life. The drunkards and men on other substances that approached you couldn’t compare if they tried, but you did end up accepting a couple free drinks. How could you not? Free alcohol.

So there you sat, alone, a shining star in an ocean of black, a little more tipsy than you were ever planning to get. The bar seemed to spin a little bit, and rejecting men seemed to get a little harder. Apparently, being drunk makes you automatically available. A new anxiety bubbled up in your tummy, and suddenly you missed your husband, you needed to lay on his chest more than you needed air. Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, but you wouldn’t let them. You wouldn’t ruin the makeup you put on less than an hour ago. You pulled your phone out of your purse, sniffling softly as you planned to call Shoko and cry to her, finally talk about your situation.

A tap on your shoulder made you jump a little bit, but you were used to it now. You didn’t look up from your phone as you mumbled about being married, shoving your ring in the direction of the person who was bothering you, before hearing the smug, soft chuckle you knew all too well, looking up, completely flustered.

“What a lucky guy, huh?” Satoru said with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip, eyes scanning you over. He looked mesmerized, almost entranced as you rolled your eyes, groaning as you started to get up to leave. You’d just survive the car ride home and be fine, like usual. But tears made your vision blur up as you let out a choked sob, falling into his chest. You didn’t care about getting makeup on his uniform, you just wanted to cry and yell at him. He was standing there, trying to joke with you, but all you wanted to do was scream about how ugly and unloved you felt.

You were too drunk to remember being softly led out of the club as you sobbed quietly, only sobering up enough to be coherent and sentient when your husband was siting on the sidewalk with you, having you gathered up in his arms while you let out your last soft sob of anger and desperation. He just sighed softly, pushing your hair out of your face to press a kiss to your forehead. You turned your head away, against your own will, to try and remain pissed at him. He had to suffer the consequences of his own shit actions. He rubbed shapes into your back for a couple minutes, before finally speaking up.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He started, looking into the pavement of the road to avoid your teary-eyed gaze, guilt evident on his face as he continued. “I’m just.. scared I’m going to be the reason you get hurt. And, and I know - don’t give me that.” He said with a stifled laugh as you flared at him, knowing you’d reassured him you didn’t care since the day your met him. “But it’s different now. With Itadori having consumed Sukuna’s finger, there’s… a possibility that he’ll properly manifest. And.. if that does end up happening, I’ll be one of the first in the line of fire. And that means using you as.. bait, kidnapping you for money, whatever I just…” his breath catches in his throat before he can continue. You lean into him closely, head on his chest. His heartbeat is audible through his chest, and he swallows thickly before he starts speaking again. It’s rare you see your husband in a vulnerable state like this.

“… I started having these.. awfully vivid dreams of you. In the position Suguru was, or.. even worse. I thought if I started being.. distant, or cold, you’d lose interest, even if it would break my heart and kill me from the inside out. If it meant you were safe.. I was ready to go through heartbreak again and again, I think.” He ends his sentence with his eyes locked on yours, and all you can do is sit in silence for a second, the ambience of the street outside the club being the only sound ringing in your ears. The bass of the music from the club, the cars driving past, people having small talk over cigarettes just a few feet away from you two.

Your next move is to grab him by the neck of his uniform and drag your husband’s stupid, self-sacrificing lips to yours in a kiss you had missed feeling every single day you were without it. He was hesitant at first, the alcohol on your tongue, the mixed emotions still swirling in his head - but it quickly turned to a the hunger that had made you fall in love with him in the first place, lips crashing messily against yours before you finally pulled back to speak, leaving him flustered as he looked down at you, his breathing a little unsteady.

“I knew the risk of being.. well, even just seen with you, since I first met you. And I wouldn’t have married you, not to mention.. dated you, or fallen in love with you, if I wasn’t accepting of those risks. I would die a thousand times over to whoever’s hands if it meant another day of waking up next to you.” The words fell from your mouth like word vomit, ramble and quick, barely audible sounds that he somehow managed to keep up with, even with your hiccup in-between the syllables. He just nodded softly, pulling you even more snug into him, resting his head on yours with a satisfied sigh.

“I know. I’m sorry you fell in love with me.” He mumbled finally, a genuinely, tired, apologetic tone as he spoke slowly, holding onto you like you could fall out of his grasp at any second.

“I’m not sorry I fell in love with you.” You said after another moment of pause. The warm, comforting feeling of being in your husbands arms filled your stomach, and you let your eyelids close, knowing that your husband would carry your sleepy body back to the car, or through hell and back, if he had to.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #jjk

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lou-struck · 4 months

Text

Made With Love Part 3

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.3

Featuring Special parts with Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Part 1 Here

~Now that you know how to nullify the Love Potion's effects, you wander the castle in search of your loved ones. But as you venture through these darkened halls you feel like you are being hunted.

WC: 7.1k

Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc, Reader is implied to be smaller than Beel.

Asmodeus’ part alludes to past experiences of SA (not with the reader). If that topic makes you uncomfortable please skip it.

a/n: sorry for the wait my friends. I know so many of you have been looking forward to this part so I hope you like it!

Intro~

The air in Solomon's lab smells both burnt and strangely damp as Luke pushes his way inside. His little heart is pounding furiously as the door shuts behind him. Bits of dried herbs from experiments past litter the ground and crunch under the angel's feet.

Running from the palace has left him winded, and the stress from the situation makes his heart beat furiously in his chest, but he can't rest.

How could he after what he did?

Guiltily, he pulls out his DDD and taps on the darkened screen. It glows to life at his touch, illuminating the sweet photo of you and him working behind the counter at the RAD bake sale; one look at your kind smile sends him plunging into the deep dark sea of guilt as he is reminded once again that he is the one responsible for sending you into the lion's den to save everyone. Although he knows that none of his friends would ever hurt you, he worries that their love potion induced obsession may unintentionally cause them to act carelessly. Nervously, he checks his notifications and sees that he has no new messages from you. Which at least means that everything on your end is turning out alright.

All he has to do is find the recipe book that Solomon used to make the mysterious Potion and somehow use the knowledge from his Devildom Alchemy 101 class to reverse engineer the antidote before his unpredictable, love-sick friends try to do something stupid.

Seems simple enough…

But as Luke's eyes scan the cluttered countertops and bookshelves, he wonders if there is any order in this cluttered chaos. Books are everywhere, they overflow the shelves, lean precariously over the tables, and some are dangerously close to the enchanted burners.

"How am I supposed to find the book Solomon used in this mess?" He cries aloud. The lab does not answer back and Luke is met with the last thing he needs right now; silence.

Right now, you need a hero, a guardian angel. And Luke will do whatever he has to do to save your special day and free everyone from the effects of the Love Potion.

He takes a deep breath and looks determinedly at his reflection in an old mirror that Solomon keeps around so he can see the physical effects his mystery potions have, "I got this." he says, placing his hands on his hips and striking something that Asmodeus refers to as a power pose.

This confident posture fills him with hope as the little angel rolls up his sleeves and begins to get to work.

"Man, my head is killin' me." Mammon groans, tossing his white hair back onto the back of one of the banquet room's many velvet armchairs. "That damn potion gave me one helluva hangover."

Sprawled on a sofa across the room lies Lucifer, who holds a cold rag to his forehead as he flinches in annoyance at every word from his younger brother. "Silence, Mammon," He murmurs in a murderously low tone. Dark tendrils of energy flare up from around him, darkening the already dimly lit room. "If you continue to run your mouth, I promise you I will string you up till you turn purple."

Mammon's eyes widen in fear, "Right… Noise… Headache… Sorry." he gulps nervously as the dark flames die down. "I'll be quiet."

"Thank you," his brother says, rubbing his temple. "I'm glad we have reached an understanding."

Mammon sinks deeper into his seat as an uncomfortable silence befalls the room. He just can't believe that the afternoon has turned into this period. He was supposed to be having a great time with you and stealing every second of your time that he could. Now, he's confined to the banquet hall, feeling like he just got run over by a pack of HellHounds.

His head is practically throbbing with discomfort, and all he wants to do is go home and lie down in a dark room with you in his arms.

'Why did that damn Chihuahua have to go and ruin everything?' he thinks to himself, too worried to speak aloud after Lucifer's threat. If he hadn't eaten that damn cookie, he probably would've been able to steal you away and remind you why he is your First Demon.

He continues to wallow in his self-pity and potion-induced hangover until the door to the banquet hall opens slowly. Levi takes small steps with his squeaky shoes, leaving a puddle of pool water behind him in his wake.

Intrigued by his brother's drenched appearance, Lucifer sits up a bit in his chair, and his cold rag falls off of his forehead. "do I even want to know what happened?"

Levi's eyes widen, and a deep red blush creeps up his neck. "I don't wanna talk about it." He mumbles shyly.

"Why are ya all wet?" Mammon asks from his spot; although he's curious, he keeps his voice low so as not to invoke the Wrath of Lucifer. "Did Mc see how ya were actin' like a jerk and toss ya in?"

"No…" he mumbles, looking down at his dripping shoelaces. "I pulled them in."

Both brothers jolt upwards and look at each other in alarm. "Oi, what do ya mean ya pulled em in? Didn't ya know humans are fragile? They can't grow gills like ya can, idiot." Mammon spews worriedly.

Lucifer, on the other hand, has fallen murderously silent, his hands gripping the arm of his sofa until the enchanted wood begins to crack under his palms. "

"I-it's not like I wanted to do it." Levi stutters, trying to defend himself. "I-it was the potion, it made me want t-to keep them someplace only I could get to."

"And do what?" Mammon asks, rolling up his sleeves as if his fist is about to make contact with the Otaku's face. "Drown 'em?"

Levi opens his mouth, but no sound escapes him. His poor brain is too busy trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swimming around in his fandom-filled brain. Guilt, Exhaustion, Lust…Lucifer clears his throat. "Clearly, you are going to have to make it up to Mc after this whole nightmare is over." he pauses for a moment as a bit of shame flashes in his crimson gaze. His features fall as he recalls his previous behavior. "We all do."

"Not me," Mammon adds unhelpfully. This partially true statement earns him a death glare from both his brothers.

Satan~

"Come on, come one, come on," you mumble as you hold the power button to your waterlogged DDD in vain. But the screen doesn't even humor you with a weak flicker or a hum.

"Shit," you mutter, sliding the dead weight into your still-damp pockets. "Damn it Levi."

Deep down, you know it's wrong to blame the Avatar of Envy for this. After all, it was only because of the Love Potion that compelled him to lure you into the water like some kind of demonic siren and unintentionally destroying your clothes and your device.

But every squeaky step in your still-wet shoes has you wanting to send him the bill for your replacement DDD.

Knowing how embarrassed he felt when you broke the spell on him, he probably would give you double what you asked for.

With a shrug, you shove the destroyed tech into your soaked pocket and continue your search for the others.

Although this wasn't the day you had planned for, you have to say this lovey-dovey scavenger hunt of yours is definitely amusing to you. Getting to see the Brothers and apparently everyone else acting completely different is nothing short of entertaining.

But as you continue to search, your wet clothes feel uncomfortable on your body; if you are going to find everyone before the end of the day, you'll need to get changed into something else. Something dry. Something more comfortable.

As you turn the corner you realize that you have been in this part of the castle before. The familiarity of this hall comforts you as you follow the path to the spare room Diavolo had gifted you for the nights you choose to stay over. Where your dresser of your spare clothing awaits you.

You step into the room as the door shuts behind you a bit louder than you expected it to. Now alone in your safe place, you take a moment for yourself and grab a set of loungewear to throw on; the soft fabric feels much better against your skin than the wet, scratchy garments of minutes past.

Glancing down at the pile of your wet clothes on the floor, you grimace and take them to your spacious private bathroom to dry over the tub. It only takes a moment, but when you come back into the bedroom, you notice the hallway door is open.

'That's odd,' you say aloud, "I thought that door shut when I came in."

Before fear can begin to simmer in your gut, you are ambushed from behind by a warm figure. You let out a yelp as you lose your balance and fall over onto the carefully made bed with your attacker.

You squirm, trying to twist out of the firm grip around your waist with no success. When you feel the unnatural warmth radiating from your attacker's skin, you pause and notice the familiar blond head of hair that nuzzles into the nape of your neck. Relief crashes into you like you're a bird in a window cleaner commercial, and you stop fighting. "Satan?"

Upon hearing his name, the Demon perks up and pulls away to get a look at you. And aside from the hearts where his pupils should be, the usually intelligent avatar of Wrath appears to not have a single thought behind his eyes.

"Cutie pie." He hums, reaching up and pinching your cheek. "I missed you so much."

"You missed me?" You tease, a smile curling up on your lips in amusement. You ruffle his layered blonde hair, and he seems to lean into your touch like an eager puppy. His usual cat-like nature is completely gone, thanks to the effects of the strange love potion.

"Soooo much," he whines. "I haven't seen you in forever."

"Oh really?" you hum. "So, what have you been doing up here?"

"Was looking for you…" hu murmurs, "But then I got lost and didn't know how to find you; I got worried I would never see you again, and I got really sad."

"It's only been four hours." You remind him gently.

He furrows his brow and cocks his head in confusion. "Oh. How long is that again?"

"Not long at all," you say, taking your hand away from his head. When the Demon no longer feels the heavenly sensation of your touch, he looks up at you with big eyes full of hurt. You feel unbelievably guilty as you place your hand back atop his head and once again return to playing with his hair.

That lovesick smile returns to his face, and you are sure that if he was in his demon form, his tail would be wagging like crazy. His heart-shaped pups seem to come in and out of focus as he looks at you. "You're the goodest ever." he smiles.

"Guess what? You're even better," you respond.

One simple compliment seems to be what drives him over the top. His blush deepens as he tosses his head back and laughs. He giggly kicks his feet on the side of his bed as he wraps his arms around you again.

"Noooooo, you're the bestest." He says stubbornly.

All right then, you win." You relent. "Do you want to know what you win as a prize?"

"What do I get?" he says eagerly, crunching his hands into fists. As cute as he is acting, you really need to break the spell. Cute puppy love is entertaining, but you know that the real Satan would hate the way he's acting now.

Gently, you take your hand and cup his cheek. He's all smiles and adoration as you lean in to claim his lips.

The moment your lips touch his, you feel his body tense up with realization, his posture straightens, and he seems to be recovering his sense of self.

By the time you open your eyes, the Satan you know and love is back.

"The details of how I got here may be blurry," he says softly, gently stroking the side of your face. "But ending up here with you certainly was worth it."

Now you're the one blushing.

"How are you feeling?" You ask, taking a step backward to give the Demon his space. "What do you remember?"

"He concentrates for a minute as if he is mentally tracing his steps. When embarrassment takes over his features, you know he has figured it out. "It was the cookies, wasn't it?"

"Yep," you respond, relieved that Satan is back to his usual inquisitive self. "Luke used a bowl from Solomon's lab, and it had some weird personality-changing love potion in it."

He grimaces, no doubt recalling his behavior. "Mc, words cannot begin to express how ashamed I am of my actions, but I'm relieved that you were the only one present to witness my behavior. If I made you feel uncomfortable in any way, please accept my sincerest apologies."

"It's all good cutie pie." You say, mimicking his lovely dovey attitude from before.

He freezes and looks at you with a dull seriousness in his green eyes. "What do I have to do to make you forget this ever happened?"

"Hmmm, I don't know if I want to forget about this," you tease him, stepping closer to you to the point you are chest to chest.

"What If I gave you a real kiss?" he smirks, cupping your face gently. "Nothing like that pathetic excuse for one I gave you earlier."

"Are you bribing me?" You ask, endeared amusement lacing your voice as you look up at the avatar of Wrath.

"Perhaps," he grins. "I've read that kisses are an acceptable payment between lovers."

"Well then, I guess we're doing it by the book." You say, gladly accepting his payment. He kisses you desperately. Seemingly devouring your very soul as if it were the newest edition of his favorite series. But behind the genuine passion and adoration, he moves with a certain intelligence, knowing just what he has to do to take your breath away.

By the time you are able to breathe your own air again, you notice that Satan is beginning to feel the fatigue from the Potion's effects. His skin looks pale, and you can tell he is trying to fight off the impending headache. "Are you okay?" you ask, keeping your voice soft so as not to cause him any more discomfort as his hangover-esque symptoms begin.

"Yes, I'm alright," he murmurs.

"No, you're not. The others were like this too; you should go back to the banquet hall and lay down."

"But what about you?" The concern in his voice touches you, but you know you have to find the others alone. "I don't remember much about the others, but they won't be acting like themselves."

"I'll be fine," you reassure him. "From what I understand about the Potion, they won't harm me. I promise, if I need help, I will let you know."

"Okay, I believe in you." He nods but still looks worried. "But just know, if anyone attempts to cause you harm, I will burn this place to the ground and stomp on its ashes until I am satisfied."

His words send a flurry of butterflies aflutter in your stomach as he disappears around the corner, his footsteps echoing menacingly through the hallway. You have a feeling that his warning wasn't so much as given to you for reassurance rather than set aloud in the hopes that everyone else would hear it.

Alone again, you step into your guest bathroom to splash some cold water on your face to refresh yourself.

You definitely need it.

Asmo~

You feel like you're being hunted. Every single time you turn a blind corner or step past a darkened doorway, you feel like another one of your cursed loved ones is going to reach out and grab you.

Despite a few hiccups on the road, breaking the spell on the first four of the brothers has been pretty easy so far.

All of them have practically jumped into your arms and insisted on the Potion-breaking kiss within moments of seeing you.

Movement at the end of the hallway catches your eye, and you freeze. It's too far away to tell who it is, but you have found someone. You can tell from the way they stop in their tracks that they see you, too.

Although you do not hate the feeling of getting pounced on and smothered in affection from the beings you love the most, today has you feeling a bit jumpier than normal. The longer you stare at what is most likely a demon at the end of the hallway, the more nervous you get.

You don't know what to do. Should you run? Should you hide? Your brain can't decide on what to do so you brace yourself for them to lunge at you, but the embrace never comes.

"Hello?" you call out. The nervous tremor in your voice bouncing off the walls.

To your surprise, the person at the end of the hallway dashes away, leaving you confused and just a bit scorned.

"Wait, please," you call, running after them and into the statue gallery. Where you are surrounded by dozens of elegantly carved statues. The darkened room full of figures should make you afraid, but you get a smug sense of satisfaction from being the one doing the chasing this time.

You stop in the center of the room under the skylight. The cool moonlight shines down on you, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you somewhere in the room. "Hey, it's okay. Please come out. I just want to talk to you." you say between huffs.

Through the darkness, you hear a small, shy, shuffling sound as the one you were pursuing forward into the light.

Asmodeus steps forward timidly; his steps are clumsy and off-balanced, most likely due to one of the potions' many side effects. His pretty peach-colored eyes were big and sparkling. The heart-shaped pupils and light blush on his face look so fitting on him that you just stare at him in awestruck silence, taking in his beauty.

Instead of basking in your undivided attention like he usually does, The Avatar of Lust shies away from your gaze of admiration and looks down at the floor.

"Asmo," you say gently, noting this difference in his personality. "It's just me; why do you look so nervous?" You give him your friendliest, most encouraging smile and extend your hand out to him.

Just that simple gesture of love and kindness turns his cheeks a furious red, and he takes a quick step back, nearly knocking over a black marble statue of a Demoness with hair made out of pearls.

"Holding hands with you?" he asks in a soft whisper. "I-I don't know if I am ready for that?"

What?

The Asmo you know loves PDA.

You shake that thought out of your head; this isn't the Asmo, you know. If he's not comfortable with that, you need to make sure that he feels safe with you. Love Potion or not.

"No worries," you say with a kind smile, sitting on one of the carefully carved benches in the gallery. "How about we sit down and talk? Would you be okay with that?"

He nods his head slowly and sits down on the very edge of the bench.

The two of you sit in silence for what seems like a decade. In that time, he doesn't meet your gaze once, but whenever you don't appear to be looking at him, his eyes are on you like he has an innocent schoolyard crush.

Finally, you decide to break the silence. "how are you feeling?"

"F-fine," he says in a small voice. He shuts his mouth quickly as if he doesn't trust his words around you.

"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well," you say, noticing the subtle change in his body language. He doesn't look like he is about to run off at any moment. "Why did you decide to run from me?"

He nervously picks at his perfectly painted nails, chipping the dual-colored polish and letting the colorful strips flutter onto the patterned stone floor. "I ran because I was nervous. The others are just so bold, and I thought you would want to be with someone more confident and sexy like Simeon."

'Simeon?' you think to yourself. "That's the second time someone mentioned the Angel's uncharacteristic behavior today." Although your curiosity is fighting to the forefront of your mind, you cannot deprive Asmodeus of the attention he craves.

"Right now, Asmo, I want to spend time with you." you say, "I want to make sure you know how much I care about you, even if you're not as confident as you usually are right now."

His eyes widen with hope as his furious blush creeps up to the tips of his slightly pointed ears. But he is too tongue-tied to utter anything. He goes to shyly cover his face with his hands but you stop him.

His skin is hot on contact, but you pretend not to notice. You can tell there is something he wants to say. "Asmo, you know you can tell me anything. Right?"

"I can?" he whispers softly.

"Of course you can."

He takes a deep breath and clenches his fist as if he's gathering the courage to force the words from his pretty lips. "Can I kiss you?" He spits it out so quickly that you almost miss his request.

Your smile is victorious, "Of course you can."

"C-close your eyes, please," he stutters, "It's better that way."

You oblige, letting your eyelids shut. You feel him lean in close, his nervous breaths hitting your skin as the spellbound Demon gathers the courage to kiss you.

You don't dare move; this kiss has to be done on his terms, even if it takes all day.

His breath hitches, and he goes for it, giving you the smallest, quickest peck on the cheek. Before he slides over to the other side of the bench. A melancholy feeling blooms in your gut as you begin to wonder if that little kiss would really be enough to break the spell he is under.

But to your surprise, Asmodeus' laughter fills the room, and when you open your eyes, you see the Demon's heavy blush and unconfident posture subsiding.

"Asmo?"

The Avatar of Lust pounces on you, wrapping his arms around you tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck. "You are just too cute, Hon." he squeals, very much back to normal.

One thing you noticed is that he does not look anywhere near as tired as the others did after the spell is broken. Is it his concealer or is it something else?

He notices the way you are looking at him and gives you a dazzling smile. "It will take a bit more than a silly Love Potion to bring me down." he winks.

"You remember everything?"

"Mostly," he giggles. "I know there was something in the cookies and then I just started feeling strange. I felt like I was watching some kind of bad reality TV show. If I wanted to do something, it was like my body did the opposite." His features soften just a bit, and he looks at you with sincerity. "Still, thank you for looking out for me, Mc. Even if the real me would want to do more with you than just a cute little peck on the cheek, you waited for the cursed version of me to feel comfortable enough to initiate something, and that doesn't really happen a lot." His eyes turn glassy as he grabs your hand. "When you are as beautiful as me and used to having demons, witches, and everything else throw themselves at your feet, you find that people tend to take every inch they can get."

This time, you are the one who can't speak. The meaning behind the Demon's words causes you to hold his hand just a bit tighter as he blinks away his unfallen tears rapidly. This moment between the two of you may not need anything else right now. When words fail, you can rely on something as simple as silence.

"I should go lay down," he says at last, furrowing his brow. "You have a day to save, and I feel like I just drank a whole thing of Devil's Drink."

"Do I even want to know what that is?" you ask with a voice that seems to scream 'tell me.'

He tosses his head back in laughter. "Ohhh, you are so cute. Devil's Drink is a punch that consists of whatever types of demonus someone has on hand. It gets the party started, but afterward, you have the worst hangover ever.

"Oh my," you shudder, realizing that you and Lucifer are probably going to need to have a talk with him about drinking responsibly later on. "You should lay down then; the others are in the Banquet hall recovering as well."

He turns and starts to walk away before pausing in the corridor and giving you a sly wink. "Don't you worry, Hon; once this whole thing is over with, I promise you I will give you a proper thank you slash makeup Valentine's Date. Kay?" He puts his fingers to his lips and blows you a kiss before leaving you alone in the statue gallery.

"I'll hold you to it," you smile catching the kiss he blows your way as the carved figures around you send you encouraging smiles to continue your quest.

Beelzebub

All of this walking in silence makes you feel as if you are playing some weird backroom-esque game; you feel hyper-aware of your surroundings, listening for even the smallest sound that could lead you to find another one of your cursed men.

The bottoms of your feet feel slightly fatigued but you are spurred on by the fact you have managed to find at least half of the guys so far. At this rate, you'll probably be able to find everyone by dinner time.

Passing by a large window, the bright moonlight blinds you momentarily. You squint and step slightly out of the light, taking a glimpse of the miles and miles of dark forest that lies beyond the glass.

You take this moment to appreciate that so far, everyone is confined to the walls of the castle. This Love Potion has changed their demeanors so much that if they were to get out into the world, they would make quite the spectacle.

Suddenly, a cool breeze hits your skin, and you stop. The two large glass front drawers to one of the back balconies of the palace are wide open, and the sheer curtains are twisting violently in the breeze.

Knowing Barbatos would never allow this door to remain open for such a long period of time, you come to the conclusion that the door was opened fairly recently.

You begin to panic, your heart thrums wildly in your chest, and you worry that you're going to have a heart attack. You rush outside thinking that someone escaped and is out in the Devildom without their wits.

The cold air embraces you as you glance frantically around. Stepping up to the ledge of the balcony, you look down into the giant hedge maze below. It's only known to few if someone were to stumble out in there. It would take a long time to find them.

Swearing under your breath, you wonder if you are really going to have to go searching in the middle of the maze.

Before you can move to climb down the steps, a thin white flower pedal flies past your face, briefly pooping your nose. This little distraction has you turning your head, and you see a massive figure hunched over on a small-looking stone bench just on the other side of the balcony.

You are with a full sense of relief as you make your way over to them more and more flower petals seem to float to the ground. As you get closer you hear that they are mumbling to themselves.

"They love me. They love me not. They Love me. They love me not." You recognize that voice anywhere.

"Beel?" you say as the Avatar of Gluttony turns eagerly toward you and lets out the happiest little squeal of delight. You've never heard him make such an adorable sound before, and it fills your heart.

He springs from his tiny chair and lumbers over to you eagerly. His inhumanly strong arms wrap around you in a bear hunt that is so tight you can hardly breathe.

"Can't. Breathe." You out topping his arm to get his attention. He pouts but lets you down gently; even though you're out of his arms, he still has a firm grip on your hand.

"Sorry, Mc, I just love you so much I didn't wanna let you go. I've been wanting to be held by you the entire day."

"That's all right, Beel." You spot a flower petal Stuck in his hair, and you gently take your hand up to his face to remove it. He leans into your touch and lets out a happy little giggle.

"I knew you would come for me." He says enthusiastically. "but it took you so long I thought you forgot all about me. So I started picking the flowers so they could tell me if you loved me or not."

Glancing down briefly, you see flowers he was plucking earlier. You recall from a Devildom botany class they are called eternal daisies. No matter how many one plus a pedal from it, grow back after a few seconds. For the Demon to have amassed such a large pile of petals, he must have been doing this for a while.

"And what did the flowers tell you?" You tease, ruffling his hair; his violet eyes follow your hands as if they are about to show him the world's secrets. Your simple touch makes his heart-shaped pupils grow larger by the second.

"Flowers?" He sighs dreamily, unable to think of anything else but you. Curiously, you decide to let go of the gentle giant to see what he would do if you weren't touching him for a second.

His face falls, and he looks at you like you had just told him Hell's Kitchen shut down for good.

His kicked puppy persona hurts your heart so bad you immediately grab his hand, and the look of pure bliss returns to his features.

"You're so cute, Mc," he murmurs softly.

"Wanna know something? You're even cuter."

He lets out a delighted squeal and excitedly holds you again. The unnatural warmth radiating from his body makes you realize how cold you are out here on the balcony.

"Beel, would you like to go inside, and we can get you something to eat?" you ask, hoping to tempt him with food. But he shakes his head adamantly.

"M' not hungry."

Woah.

You pinch yourself just to make sure you are not dreaming of Beel denying you a chance to eat.

"Isn't it a little cold out here?" you ask teasingly, trying to take his hand and guide the larger Demon backward, but he stubbornly digs his feet into the ground and shakes his head stubbornly.

"No, If we go back inside, the others are gonna find you and take you away from me, and I won't get to hold you anymore."

"What will it take to get you to come inside with me?" you sigh. Normally, you don't barter with demons, but you are exhausted and just want to get inside.

"Could you carry me?" he asks, his heart-shaped pupils full of hope.

"Carry you?" you repeat.

"Yeah," he nods, swaying slightly, "like a piggyback ride. I am always the one giving them it would be nice to be carried around for a bit."

"That's true," you nod, glancing back at the door; it's only a few steps. "I guess I could try."

You crouch down slightly so the much larger, much heavier Demon can climb on your back. Thankfully, he goes slow so as to not throw you off balance, but you have to reach deep inside yourself to find the strength to move the Demon made of solid muscle who clings to your back.

No amount of strength training could've prepared you for this.

Beel nuzzles his face into your neck as you take step after agonizing step toward the door. When you finally let him down on the ground, your legs feel like jelly but the look of joy on his handsome features alleviates some of your back pain.

"That was so fun," he laughs, leaning in and kissing you eagerly as a form of payment. Although you are sore from this unexpected powerlifting session, you accept his kiss happily. It starts off tame and innocent, but he begins to lose himself.

His gluttony breaks through the spell, and he begins to devour your lips like he hasn't eaten in days.

When he is satisfied, you pull back and are relieved to see that he has returned to normal. "Mc, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't believe I made you carry me." he frowns, holding his hands together so tightly it looks painful.

"It's okay, Beel, I'm fine," you reply, ignoring the slight pain in your back.

"Are you sure?" he asks worriedly. There is so much concern in his gaze you find yourself immediately reassuring him.

"Still, you shouldn't have to carry me. You need it, I will carry you around.-"cut off by the loud growling of his stomach. "M' hungry"

"I bet you are, "you say. His current state of hunger is overpowering the headache the others are suffering from right now. "you should go into the banquet hall; there's still lots of food left over from the party."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come with me?" He asks, "Food tastes so much much better when I'm with you."

"I wish I could, but I have to find Belphie and the others. But I promise I'll be back soon."

You can tell from the look on his face that he wishes he could carry you back to the banquet hall with him, but he leaves. As he disappears out of sight, you hope that all the cursed cookies are hidden away by the time he reaches the banquet hall so he doesn't accidentally eat any more of them.

Belphie~

There is an uncomfortable knot in your back as you walk; giving Beel a piggyback ride certainly was not what you expected you would have to do today.

The sound of broken glass reaches your ears, causing you to flinch slightly at the noise.

What was that sound?

Where did it come from?

Is someone hurt?

Briskly, you walk towards the corridor where you heard the sound, your head on a constant swivel for any kind of danger or lone shard of glass until you reach a small staircase.

You don't think you've ever seen it before; the dark wood looks old but well tended by the Butler's expert hand.

Taking hold of a railing, you begin your descent into the darkened room; you feel along the wall for a light switch until you land on it and flick it upwards.

You find yourself standing in the middle of a massive wine cellar with thousands of unique bottles of Demonus. Surround you and you find yourself mesmerized by all the dancing colors of glass.

In the back corner of the room, you find the source of the earlier crash. Belpheghor kneels over a broken bottle of miscellaneous liquor. Shards of glass sprinkled the pool of deep purple liquid-like islands on the sea.

The youngest avatar of sin moves quickly, cleaning up the mess with a speed you have not seen from him before. He is so focused on the task at hand he doesn't notice you coming up behind him until you utter his name.

"Belphie, I heard the crash. Is everything all right?

His head snaps toward you, and he beams at you, his whole body seemingly abuzz with excitement as he scoops you into his arms. "Careful, there might be some glass still on the floor, I should hold you until it's safe."

"I hope that bottle wasn't too expensive," you shudder, looking at the remains of the bottle that is most likely older than your family tree.

"Nah, that one was only 500 years old. I thought you would like it since it's not too sweet," he mutters, brushing your cheek with his thumb. " I just read the tasting card and thought you would like it more than all those dusty old bottles."

"Five. Hundred. Years?" you breathe, swallowing nervously.

"Yeah, that's nothing." he laughs. "I am so glad you're here, Mc. I am so bored. Let's do something fun together." He is overflowing with this excitable golden retriever energy, and you can't help but be infected by it.

"Oh yeah? What do you want to do?" you tease, playing along with him. Although you still have to break the spell on him, you may as well have a bit of fun with this energetic version of Belphie while you can.

"Let's go hiking," he says at once. "It's too boring here, but someone once told me about a great spot for a hike. I have never wanted to go on it before since I would've rather been sleeping, but I think we could have a lot of fun."

"Oh, that would be fun," you smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, "Maybe we should go on a warmer day. That wind is really cold outside, and it will be hard to look at the stars with all the clouds."

His eyes fill with confusion as he looks at you with his unnerving heart-shaped pupils. "Why would I want to look at some dumb stars when you are right in front of me? You are so amazing I don't think I ever want to stop looking at you." Although he isn't going anywhere, his body can't seem to sit still. It's like he is hooked up to an IV full of Red Bull.

Nervous laughter leaves your lips, and you reach up to play with his hair. "That's really sweet, but wouldn't you get tired?"

"No," he says plainly. "If I close my eyes, then I won't be able to look at you until I open them again."

"Oh really?" A little plan is formulated in your head. "You mean to tell me you will never close your eyes ever again?"

He smiles innocently and shakes his head. "Never again."

"Not even to blink?" you ask, looking up at him with big eyes. With your head cradled in his chest, you notice that even his heartbeat is accelerated. Is this another one of the Potion's side effects? You make a mental note to remember as much information as you can so you can tell Solomon all about this once everything is over and done with.

"Not even to blink," he says confidently.

"Prove it. Staring contest right now."

The prospect of a challenge intrigues the Demon, and he gently sets you down on top of one of the cellar's many kegs. "What do I get if I win?"

"let's see," you hum, holding your chin in consideration. "if you win, we get to go on that hike right now."

"go hiking! Let's do it." he leans him close, never taking his eyes off of you for a second.

"Ready? Go!" You open your eyes wide and meet his gaze. Now that he is face-to-face with you it makes it a lot easier to steal a kiss from him.

Demon is ruptured in the competition at hand to even think that you're going in for the Bell breaking kiss until your lips are on his. And surprise and lets his eyes close, leaving you victorious.

As he comes back to his senses, Belphie relaxes greatly. His movements are lazy, as is his kiss. It's slow and comforting but perfect, nevertheless.

By the time you pull away, you see how heavy his eyelids are drooping.

"Are you tired now, Belphie?" You ask as he rests his head against your shoulder.

"Mmmmmhmmm," he groans. "How'd I get here? What happened to the party?"

"There was a potion accidentally mixed into the cookies," you explain. "I promise you I'll tell you everything later, but for now, you should go back to the banquet hall and get some sleep; your other brothers are back there waiting for you."

"Is Beel okay?" he murmurs.

"Yes, He's fine now."

"That's good." he sighs, dragging his feet toward the door. "Thank you for helping with all this. Why do we keep dragging you into these messes?"

"To keep me on my toes, I guess." you laugh, basking in the warmth of the Demon's gaze.

He smiles at your comment, but then a look of realization crosses his features, and he looks at you seriously.

"Mc, please be careful," he says suddenly, his left hand rubbing his temple as his headache grows. "I don't know why, but I feel like you should really watch yourself around Simeon."

"Don't worry," you reply softly, trying your best to sound reassuring. "I promise I've got this handled. We will all be back together soon…"

~Thank you for reading!

Part 4 coming soon...

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

@solomiracle @randomdutchgirl @dn4su @downinbedrockck @yuuvis32 @exrellian @cuddlybelphie @yeet-skeet-nifty-neat @romaissa @littlesliceofcheese @the-panda-queen @enoe-of-noen @marvelous-maniac @irllydontcare69 @im-in-love-with-fairytales @snowthatareblack @stressed-cryptid @miracl3d @eussstasss @ishouldreallykillmyself @unixilian11032 @soupieoopieisloopie @ourfinalisation @daveyserket @fenfourks @laffytaffyspoon @wtf-why-do-i-gotta-do-this @beezgobuzzbuzz @darkflowerav @bethleeham @fangirlinindia @eternallyanxiousandstressed @the-sassiest-toaster @nanamisbigassschlong @tak3yourpill @uhnanix @anjodedesgostoeerros @orikuu @lykunsstuff

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #belphegor x reader #obey me satan #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmo x reader #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader

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lustlovehart · 9 months

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Summary: [Angst] The balladeer watches as you receive an electro vision right in front of his eyes.

A/n: I love him, but felt like he should be sad on his birthday tbh <3. (The bonus is a bit happier though so enjoy that all you want.)

Warnings: Mostly pure angst, but some possessiveness in him, not to the point of being yandere though.

---

Your fingers tremble as you look at the man in front of you, his face typically adorning an expression of scorn a vast majority of the time. You’ve gotten use to the look, others feared it, you used to as well, but eventually time passed on and you’d grown accustomed to all sides of him, perhaps not all, only the ones he was willing to show you. However as you look at him now, the mask he wears on his breathtaking features, make you loose your breath.

He had no emotion, none that could be seen at least.

Your hands griped tighter onto the purple glass ball that had floated in front of you. You tried your best to stay composed but the stiffness of your joints had made it obvious.

"Kuni-"

He turns away, something he never does. You’ve never witnessed him not look at you, to the point of growing accustomed to his watching eyes. His body continues to get smaller and smaller as he walks further and further away from you. Unbeknownst to you, the puppet had turned his figure away in order for your eyes to not gaze upon his crumbling composure, the exact thing that led him to not be worthy in the eyes of god, no… the eyes of his mother.

No matter how hard he himself tried to deny it, he understood his feelings for you were the wretched thing called ‘love’, which is why he lets himself gaze at you with such an emotion in his hollowed chest. In fact, thats all he can feel when he’s around you. Yet as of this moment, he no longer knows how he should feel.

The scene of you, would typically make his heart race in way that seemed unhealthy for the regular being, yet, the image of you, holding the vision his mother had ruling over, struck a chord with him. He feels, grief. If he was still the way he was before he met you, he’s sure he would’ve ended you right where you stood, jealousy filling his veins full of unfiltered anguish at the thought of a mere mortal being chosen by Celestia as an potential candidate to ascending like his mother.

But, this is you, not some random stranger, not a random mortal beneath him. It was you who was chosen by a higher power.

You walk closer behind, even through his fake skin, he can feel the warmth of your very human body, transferring to his puppet one. But even with the fluttering feeling you gave him, he could not help the words dripping with venom spill from his lips.

"Give it up. Do you believe your grandiose belief of ambition reached the heavens? Do not forget, I am the only one you truly need in this cruel world."

In your eyes he can clearly tell the shock you held for his sudden change in deamonur. A complete 180 to the way he was just prior moments ago.

"What...?"

"Did you not hear me the first time? You dont need that so called 'blessing', for you already have me, its foolish to believe you need anything other than me. Am I not capable enough? Am I...." his words seem to catch themself in his throat, like he was holding back as to not further embarrass himself, yet the words make it out in the end.

"Am I not enough for you too...?" His hues dont make contact with, almost as if he was the young puppet he once was again.

You only stare at him, not understanding the underlying message of his words. The silence was deafening, yet as it continued, he could only sigh before walking away.

"At least be with me, [Name], even if you were the one who's worthiness was recognized, I want you to still care for me the way no one else had stayed." His words faded away with the wind though quiet, they were still there.

[Bonus]

In the dead of night, your eyes are trained on the dim candlelight in the room. Despite its unsure flame, it still stayed lit as it wavered. Similar to the man who laid beside you.

You couldnt remember his words anymore, but even then you doubt youd understand the context. His arms are tightly wrapped around you waist as you laid still, despite his unique trait of not needing to breathe, it still felt as if he was inhaling you as much as he could.

"Kuni, just what did you mean by 'too'...?" Despite your words being barely a whisper, it seems his mechanical ears still heard what you had said.

"That doesnt really matter anymore. All that matters is that you dont become the forth of it all."

"What does that even mean... I swear you need to start making sense for once..."

---

This was made while I was like half asleep during class, so if it isnt too good please dont blame me you guys.

#genshin x reader #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader #wanderer angst #wanderer x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #vesperwrites

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sidthedollface2 · 6 months

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A Crown fit for a God (Part 4)

Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader

Ch Summary: A glimpse into how you stumbled upon The Autumn Court, your relationship with Eris and how you fell into Luciens bed.

And/or

Azriel’s jealousy might destroy any chances he has in getting close to you.

word count: 7.4k

Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, angst, hurt/comfort, war, including injuries, fighting, no use of y/n, nicknames, magic, greek mythology, pining, jealousy, soft Az with a little temper, azriel with other women (sorry), reader with another man (get it friend ; )

A/n: this ch is heavy on the Vanssera brothers but Az does help you towards the end. I'm a daydreamer not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol

It was dark when you arrived in the Autumn Court, a blazing phoenix from the sky. Your limbs felt foreign, heavy and unstable like a newborn fawn. Rustling of leaves echoed in your new ears, startling you briefly. Your skin felt unbelievably warm despite the wind chapping your flushed cheeks. This new place had a smell of sulfur and wood. Burning wood. No. Burning flesh. A cough erupted from you as you risked breathing in the air. Your lungs expand with every inhale, followed by another violent cough.

A feminine voice called out to you ‘child open your eyes.’ The darkness soon vanished as shades of orange and amber filled your vision. You sat in the middle of scorched grounds, a ring of fire surrounding you with flames too high to jump over. Your arms and legs blackened from ash and dirt. The ends of your hair burned from the impact along with the threads covering your small frame. A lovely woman stood on the other side of the ring of fire. Panic and wonder in her green eyes, you assume directed at you. She's speaking to you in a language you recognise, but unable to voice your response.

With a wave of her hand she motions you to follow her. Standing on wobbly legs, weak and malnourished from your journey, you stumble towards her. Through the high flame you emerge, unburnt and to her surprise uninjured. “Come inside child. Let's get you bathed and safe,” she insists, wrapping you in her warm words and caring eyes. She introduces herself as Marrian, The Lady of Autumn, wife to Lord Beron of the Autumn Court. You told her your name as well but she quickly decided to keep your true identity a secret and gave you an alias instead. She explains that this cabin is a refuge for her and her eldest son Eris, though his visits have become scarce. After you've bathed and your body temperature has returned to normal, neither hot nor cold, she offers you a warm meal and insists you stay the night.

Throughout the years living in the small cabin became your home. Lady Autumn treated you like the daughter she never had. She taught you how to wield your fire magic and it was through that training that you both discovered you possessed more than just fire. You were omnipotent. Unlimited power surged through your veins just as it had before you fell into these lands. She had warned you, begged you to never show your true powers.

Males of this world were ruthless, lords and kings would take and take till you were nothing but ash beneath their boots. You found out how evil lords could be when Lady Autumn returned to the cabin. Her pale skin littered with purple and blue bruises. Dried blood caked her knees and elbows. Her oldest son Eris carried her to bed, teary eyed and blood stained as well. “I promise I'll kill them all.” Eris' voice cracked as he said those words, his mothers broken body haunting him, leaving a bitter taste of his family in his mouth. He’d do anything for her, even killing his own father for her safety. It wouldn’t be easy killing his father or his brothers. The high lord had an army at his disposal and if any of his brothers suspected Eris was the reason for their fathers untimely death, he’d be killed. And by default his mother as well. “I promise I’ll help you,” you added with fire in your eyes and revenge in your blood. “ A bargain then,” he confirmed. Death was coming for them. Death was here.

Many moons ago

You had met all of Lady Autumn's sons but only one really stood out to you. At least only one you wanted to know on a deeper level. Lucien. He had a way with words that was kind yet sarcastic and witty. His humor being the reason your cheeks always tinted the deepest red. He was incredibly handsome, tall and lean and to your surprise so much warmer than the other brothers. It was warm out when Mirrian requested for her carriage to be well equipped for her outing to the farmlands, where she’d try her way to ease the stressed farmers. This brought you to the outer stables, where the horses were being prepped for their journey. Immediately you took sight of Lucien, a worried look on his brow as he paced back and forth, biting his lips raw. “Lucien? Is everything alright?” you questioned, concern in your tone as you approached him.

Lucien immediately straightened, “Oh it’s nothing to worry yourself over, just…..I promised a friend one of Mist’s foals and it seems neither will make it.” Mist was the mare to Eris' Stallion, Blue. They had bred them as both were of a champion line, hoping to strengthen the lineage. Just as you were going to reply a young stable boy rushed towards Lucien, breathless with how quick he was running, “She’s passed Lord, the foal too I’m afraid.” Lucien sighed as he looked to the ground, a look of sadness on his face. “Perhaps I could help?” Both Lucien and the young boy looked at you with bewilderment. “Don’t be silly, the boys are more than strong enough to dig-”

“I don’t mean to bury them, Lucien.” You looked to the boy then, “take me to them please.” The young boy looked to Lucien for approval and with a nod you both followed. Lucien trailed behind you, letting his eyes admire you without your knowledge. At one point his step fell in sync with yours. His arms swung with each step, often grazing his hand with yours. Each touch earns a flush to your cheeks paired with a shy smile. Lucien takes notice and in an act of courage takes your small hand within his, lacing your fingers together.

The stable is set up in rows, where each stall is supplied with straw bedding for comfort, fresh clean water and auto feeders. Lucien placed his hand at the small of your back, gently guiding you to Mists’ stall. Her and the foal were laying still among the straw bedding, their eyes closed like if they were just sleeping. Kneeling beside Mist, you began to pet her silky golden mane.

Since arriving in Autumn you hadn’t used this particular power, its presence slowly dissipating. You often wondered if you still had it. You gave her a gentle kiss along her muzzle, the first step to bringing her back. Lucien and the boy stared in awe, not quite sure what to make of your actions. You then brought your hands to cup over your nose and mouth, breathing into them the air from your lungs. The same air that you hope would work its way into Mist. With your breath trapped between your palms you began pumping your palms together like the thump thump of a beating heart. For each 3 pumps you’d rub your hands together, creating a spark of blue dazzling light.

Lucien gasped as he witnessed the light orb grow bigger and bigger until it was the size of Mists heart. He wondered what words you spoke into the orb as it grew and grew, he’d have many questions for you after this. Questions he’s not sure he was ready to hear. Once the ancient words were spoken into the orb you held it gently in your hands, its glow reflecting off your galaxy eye.

Lucien took notice that throughout this whole experience both your eyes had changed to the colors of the night sky, shades of blue and violet mixed with sparkling starlight. Perhaps your pale eye had other uses as well. With one hand you carried the orb towards Mists’ chest, right where her heart lay still. And the other hovering over her head. You looked to Lucien and the young boy, “no sudden movements, and please cover your ears.”

Lucien's brows furrowed in question, but he did as you requested. So did the boy.

Once you saw that their ears were covered you spoke the following words and hoped that your primordial power was still alive.

“I am Khaos, creator of the abyss and all that the sun touches. Death has taken your hand but I hold onto the other, for your journey has not ended. Hold onto me like the night holds the moon, and I’ll light your way.”

The orb held in your hand suddenly let out a flash of light so bright it could illuminate up the night sky. The light flickered after that intune to the rhythm of a beating heart. Lucien's eyes almost fell from their sockets as he saw what looked like electrical current coming from your fingertips, sending a signal to Mists head, to her brain. Lucien hesitantly looked away from your magical hands and his gaze landed on your beautiful face. Your brows were furrowed in deep concentration, sweat began to trail along your hairline. Your eyes remained open, the galaxy within them orbiting like the earth revolves around the sun. He could tell something was amiss because your jaw was clenched tight and the force you were using to push the light inside her heart was visible in the tremble of your arms.

Dark heavy clouds had covered the blue sky, bringing a violent wind to blow across the Court. Its roar slammed into the high trees and rattled everything in its wake. You had tried with all your might to push the light orb into the horse's chest to revive her heart, but Death was fighting back. You were fighting back. A battle between life and death when you possessed the power of both. Your Life power was taking the backseat as Death became the forefront. Suppress. You needed to suppress that deathly power. A deafening clap of thunder boomed through the stable; blanketing your scream that ripped from your throat as you forcefully shoved the glowing ball of light into Mists’ chest.

Lucien cradled your weak body as you collapsed from the energy you had expelled. “Mother above!” the boy gasped, “she did it Lord. Her chest rises.” Lucien stared at Mist’s chest as she inhaled and exhaled. “Listen to me boy,” Lucien spoke sternly, “you will not speak of what you saw here or I’ll turn you to ash. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand. Not a word.”

“I’ll reward you for your silence, now go.” Lucien tilted his head towards the wide doors, signaling for the boy to leave.

His gaze traveled back to you, pulling your body closer as if you’d suddenly disappear. He studied the features of your beautiful face in awe. With a feather light touch he traced over your eyebrow, down the apple of your soft cheek, and over the cute slope of your nose. His thumb gently pulled at your bottom lip, and he wondered how soft your lips would feel against his. It had been easy to fall for you, your heart too pure and kind. Tending to his mothers wounds and encouraging Eris to be better. A better male compared to Beron and his cruel brothers.

Lucien leaned in, his breath fanning over your lips, inching closer. The tickle of his breathing caressed your eyes open, taking in the handsome man holding you, his warm hand cradling the side of your face. “You're incredible,” he whispered, nothing but wonder in the way he was looking at you. Your lips parted in a wide smile as you bathed in his praise. He was the most beautiful male in all of Autumn, and you wanted him, needed him in ways that made you blush. Lucien noted your longing and decided now more than ever that he wanted you too. Without another thought he crashed his lips to yours, groaning into your mouth as you swiped your tongue along his bottom lip. He kissed with the hunger of a thousand wolves, nipping and grabbing at exposed flesh. He wouldn't have you in the stable, where anyone could watch. “I need you now sweetheart,” he growled, as he lifted your body in his arms, whisking you away to his bed chambers in a smoke cloud of orange and gold. It was true what you had heard.

The males of Autumn did have fire in their blood, at least Lucien did. When you told him you had never laid in another males bed before, he slowed down his hunger to devour you. He took things slow at first, stretching you open with his fingers as he peppered kisses and lapped at your clit till you were a withering mess beneath him. When he finally sheathed himself inside you, his length stretching you deliciously- Lucien knew this wouldn't be a one time thing, couldn't be.

What was once friendly chatter and shy glances quickly turned into a romantic whirlwind of horse rides and stolen kisses. Giggles under his sheets as he blew raspberries on your soft stomach. ‘I love you’ whispered in heavy breaths every time he felt you flutter around his cock. Lucien was adamant in keeping the relationship a secret, afraid of what his brothers or Beron would subject you to if they knew. It didn't matter in the long run, all it took was one dinner for the fairytale to come crumbling down.

~~~~~~~

You were allowed in the forest house as Lady Autumn’s ‘Lady in waiting.’ your role was to accompany her wherever she went, and assist her in daily activities. She had introduced you as “Khaos” which quickly turned to “Aos” over time. An orphan to a High Lord from across the continent she claimed. It was all lies.

This role gave you the chance to map out all entries and exits of the forest house, familiarize yourself with all the guards and what times their rotation were to occur and even where Lord Berons bed chambers were. You noted his schedule from early morning till late evenings. Eyes aware of his house guests and sometimes the topic of conversations. No other guest shocked you as much as when the entire Autumn line found themselves seated next to the King of Hybern. You sat between Eris and Lady Autumn, a rare occurrence to be invited to sit with the family. Lucien decided to sit across from you, to not strain his neck while he admired your beauty in comfort, his other brothers followed suit. At the head of the table, Lord Beron and the King of Hybern sat at opposite ends, showcasing their importance and power even at dinner.

Beef ragout and cheese souffle were passed around in the finest flatware. The flame from the candlesticks placed in the center of the table gave off a warm light, casting Lucien in a God-like glow. For a moment you imagined it was just the two of you, enjoying a night out for the world to see. “Try the grey stuff” Eris spoke from your left, spooning into the pudding like substance. Surely he wouldn't attempt to feed…

Lucien's eyes widened slightly as Eris brought the spoon to your lips. There were too many eyes for him or you to make a scene, so instead he looked away as you parted your lips for the delicious treat. It was an honest mistake humming around the spoon as the flavor melted in your mouth, a sweet sound noticed by Eris as he gently thumbed at the corner of your mouth. Wiping away the frosting that was never there to begin with. Lucien had been looking down and didn’t notice the intent behind the action but apparently Lord Beron did.

“Seems like you’ve caught my son's eye, little one. I wouldn't object to a courtship.” Your gaze quickly went to Lucien, had they known of your relationship? Was that why you were invited to dinner, to finally let the secret be known? You were about to respond when Beron addressed his son, “Eris do you find this female attractive enough to bed?”

“Father!” It was Lucien who interrupted, “surely this conversation isn't appropriate for the dinner table?” Lucien attempted to steer away from the current conversation, anger slowly bubbling to the surface. You remained planted in your seat as everything unfolded before you. Being a female in Autumn where even if you voiced your choice in Lucien, you had no right to even speak on the matter. The females were to marry, obey their male partner and breed an army of children if her husband wished. Since the High Lord mentioned it, then his word was law. You’d be tortured if you went against his wishes, Lucien would be beaten for even suggesting the lack of appropriateness of the conversation. Your gaze landed on Lady Autumn, a silent plea for help in your eyes. She merely smiled, squeezing your hand in comfort. You realize there was nothing she could do, as her makeup barely covered a fading bruise beneath her eye. It wasn’t that Eris had been terrible to you, quite the opposite. He just wasn’t the male you had fallen in love with.

“I do find her desirable, and I would be honored to court her.” Eris’s amber eyes met yours, a look that meant he was sorry for the circumstance the both of you were in. “A toast then,” the King of Hybern stood, “ to the happy couple.” He cheered, raising his glass in the air before he threw his head back, downing the flute of wine.

The High Lord followed as well as Eris and his brothers, leaving you, Lady Autumn and Lucien to stare at each other in trepidation. Lucien was going to be sick, his skin had paled at the thought of you producing an heir for his brother. Eris hands all over your soft skin, how dare he desire what belonged to him. Lucien's jaw was clenched so tight he was going to crack a molar. Unable to voice his anger or pull you away to keep you safe, he stood, shooting daggers dipped in faebane at everyone but you. You stared at your lover as he drank from the flute in one fluid motion.

Blinking back the tears as he threw his head back. His eyes met yours once again, red rimmed pools of honey ready to overflow from heartbreak. You were unable to mask the pain you were in as easily as Lucien. It occurred to you that perhaps he meant more to you than you did to him. With a heavy heart you brought your flute up to your lips, and a lonely tear tracked down your cheek. You didn’t want this life. You didn’t want to be a Death God. You didn’t want to marry Eris. You didn’t want other people making decisions for you. You didn’t want to be forced. Yet you agreed, there was no other way.

“Tears of happiness no doubt,” Eris cooed, gently wiping at the tears that followed after the first. Lucien had never looked at his brother with such raging hatred as he did now. Eris wrapped his arm around your waist, settling his hand on your hip as he tugged you close enough to kiss your temple. His gaze trained on Lucien for a hint of a reaction. Lucien swore he saw Eris smirk.

You didn’t stay long enough for dessert, opting to be alone with your thoughts. Walking aimlessly through the halls of the forest house, you didn't attempt to wipe your tears. There was no point in hiding how hurt you were, no reason to put on a brave face. You passed through a stone archway that led to a balcony, overlooking the canopy of trees that fill the forest floor. Autumn was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the stars that littered the night sky. The stars didn’t shine as bright in Autumn, they looked dull and sparse. Not at all what they looked like from home. You missed home, the space beyond the stars.

Hushed whispers floated to your ears and you quickly hid behind the stone railing that curved the space of the balcony. “- we were able to modify vegetables and fruit with faebane. The results were successful in potency and effectiveness. We can use these samples in farmlands for mass production, and give high doses of faebane through modes of consumption without the individual's knowledge.” You could recognize Lord Berons voice even though he whispered. “Once we remove the Night Court's High Lord the rest will fall.”

You attempted to peek over the railing, needing to know who he was speaking to, who else you needed to kill. “You’ll become High King of Prythian and keep your title as King of Hybern.” It couldn't be, you felt panic rising up your throat. The King of Hybern and Lord Beron in an alliance? You needed to tell Eris. Your bargain to assist Eris in killing Autumn's High Lord just became more difficult.

Quickly trekking back through the halls you found yourself in front of Eris bed chambers. You knocked softly at his door, hoping he’d still be awake at this time of night. Shuffling on the other side. you heard him near. Opening the door with a soft click, “what do I owe the pleasure?” he purred as he stared down at you. His chest was completely exposed, toned with a light dusting of freckles, similar to Lucien. Your eyes traced down his carved abs, noticing his narrow hips and how dangerously low his night pants hung. You averted your eyes, focusing on the slight curve of his mouth instead. “I have something to tell you..In private, please.” You don’t know why you were suddenly nervous in front of the princeling. “Is everything alright?” he asked with softness in his tone as his back pressed against the door frame, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by. Still facing the future Heir you walked over the threshold, your chest grazing his warm body as you slid into his room. Eris' head thumped against the frame, ‘control yourself’ he thought, as the brush of your breasts along his chest had left him breathless.

Explaining in full detail what you heard between The King and Lord Beron took longer than anticipated. Eris took every bit of information and wrote down possible outcomes and strategies to counter the mass production of faebane. On top of killing his father another player had entered the game and now Eris' work to bring down his father had doubled to now needing to bring The King of Hybern down as well.

Eris didn’t know how long he stayed hovered over his desk, but when he finally turned towards his bed and noticed your sleeping form, dawn was fast approaching. He didn’t have the heart to wake you, opting to cover your body with his warm sheets. He had no problem sleeping on the couch, respecting you enough to not join you in bed. He’d fallen asleep at the sound of your soft breathing, the sweetest lullaby to grace his ears.

It had been mid day when you both greeted the high sun, bashful in the position you were in. You apologized profusely for falling asleep in the Heirs bed. But he simply waved you off, “nonsense Fawn, what kind of male would I be to rush you off in the middle of the night?” Your cheeks flushed at the pet name as Eris opened the door to his bedroom, letting you pass by easily. You turned to thank him, missing the male that stepped back into the corner of the hall, hiding himself from view. But it was Eris who spoke first, “thank You, for last night. I’d like to see you again.. soon. to talk about,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry about all this,” he gestured at the air around him. “It's not your fault. We’ll figure it out,” you said through a sigh.

Eris wondered if you would ever forgive him for the way things were turning out, he didn’t want to force your hand. Hadn’t even thought about it, but as he pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you in a warm embrace, and inhaling the scent of your hair he was right where he wanted to be. Even though nothing intimate transpired that night, Lucien's imagination planted a rotten seed as he witnessed you leaving Eris bedroom. Eris' hold on you lasted too long to be a friendly hug and the flush on his brother's bare chest told a different story. Lucien decided then that he no longer wanted to be in Autumn, he’d branch out to other courts, and take you with him. But first he needed to speak with Eris.

Present

The rays of the morning sun cracked through the window, and once again you found your side of the bed empty. Loneliness has been a better lover to you than the future Heir. Before you had left to seek out the other Dead Gods; Eris only visited the cottage to see his mother and make love to you.

You hoped things would be different once you returned, but he hardly stayed the night and he was usually gone by morning. You’d never admit his absence made you feel used, causing more pain than you wanted.

After Lucien you vowed to never care for another male again. Never give your heart out willingly. From your experience everything they touched seemed to break, crumble, and wither. They hurt the women they claimed to love and protect, only for them to be beaten and assaulted. Traded to the Highest Lord in exchange for an alliance or merely because the female had the hips and cunt to breed powerful heirs, and that wouldn't happen to you. You wouldn't be touched with careless hands when you so beautifully crafted the very soil they walked on and the fresh air they breathed.

After your morning shower you find yourself searching the cupboards for your contraceptive tea. Placed high above the eyeline, away from Eris and Marrian. You had taken the tea without Eris’ knowledge. He wanted you to carry his child; it would be under your terms and only when you wanted. The decision to bear children would be out of love and with someone whom you formed a relationship organically, not like it had been with Eris.

You found no tea in the cottage. Not even healing salves for your wounded wing from your attack days ago, another injury unnoticed by Eris. You didn’t have the necessary ingredients for either so you traveled through the forest searching for the particular herbs. You could have gone to a healer for your wounds but not for the tea. Loyal to the court, merchants would talk and the last thing you needed was Lord Beron finding out and throwing you in a cell for insubordination. Contraception was hard to come by in Autumn, another rule placed by controlling males.

You were in deep concentration, biting at your fingernails trying to think of the last ingredient for the tea. When a sneaky shadow wrapped itself around your waist, squeezing you tightly just as one would for a hug. You stumbled back at the force in which the shadow had rushed to you. But you were met with a hard muscular surface and gentle hands that held onto your hips for stability. You then felt the cool caress of Azriel's breath across your neck, “You haven't healed your wing yet, any reason why?” He asked. Still in his hold, you quickly turned to face him, a little shocked to see him still in The Autumn Court so close to your cottage. “What are you doing here? How did you find me? Oh my Gods you're going to get killed.” You fire off question after question, glancing behind him and all around in a frenzy of panic and caution. Azriel follows your hurried gaze from left to right, amused in your nervousness.

“Answer my question first and I'll answer yours, deal?” Azriel suggests with a smirk.

“Ughh, fine. Not here though, come on.”

Azriel stifles a laugh as you pull him by the hand, a large overgrown bat following a pretty girl like a lost puppy. You lead him to a giant hollowed out tree trunk, the inside large enough for you both to sit without being seen. Azriel sits on a thick twisted root that's sprouted from the ground, his knees touching yours as you sit opposite of him.

“So what are you doing here?” You begin.

Azriel chuckles, “nope, you answer me first.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, “I’ve forgotten how to heal,” you mumble softly. Azriel scratches at his temple, brows furrowed in clear confusion, “I'm sorry, did you say you've forgotten how to heal?”

“Yes, I have forgotten how to heal, now answer my questions.” you crossed your arms over your chest, adamant in knowing what the hell Azriel was doing in your neck of the woods.

“But how did you forget? People forget names and faces, not how to use their power, “ he prods, striking an exposed nerve that puts you on edge.

“ You know what, forget it. I’m in a hurry, I don't have time to play games with you. I already told-”

“Alight, alright. I’m sorry. Will you at least let me help you?”

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicious of his intentions. “Why?”

This was going to be harder than Azriel thought, “I just….I’d like to repay the favor to someone who did a good thing.”

You scoff with a shake of your head. He was unbelievable, but you allowed him to help. It would be a stretch to reach your wing let alone change the bandage. You handed Azriel your satchel with all the supplies you had gathered. He took each item out and laid them out, recognizing each leaf and its purpose.

Azriel immediately notices the list of ingredients scribbled on a note paper in your bag. At the top of the list are the three herbs needed for the contraceptive tea. His eyes widen as they shoot to your pretty face and down to your womb. Nightshade, only found in The Night Court was missing from your bag. One of the many herbs imported to the other courts for distribution. You wouldn't find it in Autumn’s forest.

His jealousy flared slightly as he couldn't imagine another male touching you, seeing your naked figure bare for someone else. He shouldn't be jealous, you don't belong to him, but every ounce of his body is screaming for your attention. Any ounce of affection you're willing to give, Azriel would gladly accept.

Azriel doesn't notice when you remove your top. Keeping your breasts covered with your arms wrapped around your chest, you nestle between his spread legs, wings displayed beautifully like angels from the heavens. His breath hitches as your backside grazes against his crotch, the close proximity doing nothing to settle his nerves. Your skin looks soft and delicate, he almost doesn't want to taint you with his scarred hands.

But the urge to touch you overpowers his negative thoughts and he takes the first steps in removing your bandage. He’s about to caress your wing when he suddenly remembers the sensitivity of his own, “Illyrian wings are very sensitive in this area, I’m about to remove the bandage, I just want to make sure you're comfortable.” You peek over your shoulder giving him a shy smile at his thoughtfulness, “they’re sensitive too, based on the type of touch and pressure. But it’s the only way.” He nods in understanding, and the first glide of his fingers against your skin startles you. “Sorry,” he winces, quickly removing his hands. “It’s Ok, I just wasn't expecting..” You weren't expecting his tortured hands to carry such a tender touch. You couldn’t tell him that, not sure what he would think, “you can continue, please.”

Azriel resumes his attempt at removing the bandage, gently pulling back the adhesive holding against your skin. It was a sick kind of torture having this handsome male care for you in a way that no one ever has, his careful touch is delicate and soft despite his rough exterior. Each brush against your skin felt like a sweet kiss between lovers, healing not only your skin but the broken pieces of your soul. You let yourself relax under his touch, memorize the feel of careful hands nurturing you. Making you whole not only physically but mentally. In your blissful state a soft moan slips past your lips when his fingers glide over the space between your wings. Azriel smiles at the sound, wishing to be the reason for every sinful noise out of your mouth.

Azriel fills the silence in hopes to hush any more sweet sounds that may arouse him.“To answer your question, my shadows seem to be very fond of you. And they’ve been able to track you easily. I’m not really sure why or how but they pick up on your scent, and I just… from the last time we…” Azriels cheeks flush as he remembers your last encounter, “Why aren't you happy?” He’d thought about your previous conversation and how you mentioned you weren’t happy. The admission plagued his mind, wondering what weighed so heavy on your heart that happiness was no longer on the table. And the way you said it so casually made it seem you haven't been happy for a long long time.

You’re about to dismiss his question, your life is none of his business but something in the way he's touching you allows you to be vulnerable.

“I’m unhappy because I’ve lost my way home. Each time I die and resurrect, I come back forgetting a piece of myself, powers I once had are temporarily gone, or I don’t recognize the people around me. I’m just trying to find my way back, but I can’t seem to remember. Nothing is keeping me here but my mission to bring Death to this realm, and the many bargains Ive made in search of home. I have no family to keep me here. No worthy lovers. I feel stuck in a place that only sees me as a tool for their personal gain, And I’m tired of the confinement.”

Your voice wobbles, as you explain the depth of your pain. He knows too well the feeling of not belonging, the loneliness weighing heavy on one's shoulders. Your memory loss after each death explains his earlier question; the reason you don’t remember him and the reason you couldn't heal yourself.

He can’t see your face, but he notices your hand coming up to wipe away your fallen tears. Selfishly he doesn't want you to part from his world. His feelings for you are already so strong, he couldn't bear a life knowing you weren't in it. The Mother was cruel in her ways, he had just found you after 500 yrs only to reach you on your way out. But he’d choose your happiness over his every time.

He listens intently as you reminisce about your home. How large the moon looks from your humble throne, its proximity so close you can fly to its surface. The brilliant stars that shine brighter year after year, their vibrancy thawing the coldest of hearts. Sapphire and violet swirls of the milky way, a visual so stunning it leaves you breathless. A longing sigh passes between your lips, shoulders deflate slightly. “I’m sorry for unloading all that on you,” you shake your head, info dumping was never your intention. “Can you tell me what your home is like? I really liked the stars in The Night Court. It’s one of the reasons I stayed longer than I should have.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize for how you feel,” he says, as he continues to apply the healing salve, its cooling properties taming the angry laceration. “The Night Court is very similar to how you describe your home.” A slight blush travels up his neck, “I’d like to show you where I live, See how you like it there. I think you’d find it more home like than any other Court,” Azriel flusters as he mumbles the words out.

“I’m not sure how that would work out. I seem to have angered your High Lord.” You lift a shoulder in a shrug, “but thank you for the offer.” Azriel hadn’t thought how Rhys would behave if he knew you were a guest in the very city you threatened. How the Inner Circle would perceive you. What kind of High Lord would that make him if he did allow you to visit Velaris. Rhys head wasn’t shoved that far up his ass, was it?

“Will you allow me to help you find happiness then?”

His question has you shocked. He feels it in the way your wings have straightened and slightly flared. No one has bothered to ask if you were happy, let alone help you seek said happiness, certainly not someone you barely knew. Something about this male was different. Special, even. In a world where death and violence was in every court, usually brought on by males. This one had a thoughtful heart. Where men took from you, Azriel had given. He’d offered his services to kill for you. Offer his body to worship you. He offered his scarred masculine hands and willed them to be delicate and soft if only to heal the damaged pieces of a goddess. And now he knocked at the gates of your guarded heart willing to weather the storm in pursuit of your happiness for nothing in return. Those wrought iron gates flashed gold with every rap, Its faint pulse crashes against your heart like a violent wave, pummeling jagged rocks along the coast.

Azriel was everything you had ever wanted in a male and it scared you more than anything.

Then you remembered the words spoken by The Suriel, ‘An invisible thread that weaves and winds, binding hearts two of a kind.’

No. You wouldn’t allow your emotions to get the best of you, so you shut them down.

Azriel stilled. His deep heavy breathing suddenly the only sound that could be heard. His hands trembled in his lap. He felt it, the golden pull towards you. It was as if he was watching himself from above, gripping those iron bars so tightly his knuckles turned white, gold spreading beneath his palms coating the iron, bar by bar. But then you pushed. And he watched as your heart frosted over in stone and cold Ice, protecting itself from breaking. The iron gates doubled down, forging a firewall of blue and orange flame. He would need to jump through fire and ice to even get to you.

“There's a book, well two books I’ve been looking for. They contain the spell I need to remember my past and to go home. Book of The Minds Eye and The Book of Breathings.” It was dangerous telling Azriel, but you had exhausted every option. Bryaxis would look In Velaris Library for The Minds Eye, and if he found it he’d give it to you when you both met in the coming war and his bargain would be done. But the book of breathings was impossible to find. If he knew where to look, then it was worth telling him.

Azriel blinked back to reality confused. Did you not feel the undeniable pull? or maybe you did but you closed off, blocked it. Wait. Was that…Azriel slammed his eyes shut, willing to go back to that place, wherever it was, drag his body across glass and gravel, he didn't care. Hell he’d jump through hoops of fire if it meant you got to be his. All he saw was vast emptiness.

“Did you feel that tug?” Azriel longed for that connection, and had been looking for it his entire life. At one point he felt unworthy of such deep love. Jealousy gripped him so hard he began to resent his brothers for finding their mate. But as he saw how happy and whole they were, their joy had bounced off and with time he welcomed their delight. The Mother it seems skipped him or she didn’t deem him worthy. Perhaps it was the manner of work he was in, who would love such a soul who tortured people. Would his chosen one stomach his work and still desire to be in his presence? He had a feeling you were his chosen one, you had to be with how much he thought of you. Even after all these years searching it had to mean something in the end right? There had to be a reason he couldn't get you out of his head.

“I didn’t feel anything at all. I can tell you’ve tended to many injuries, your hands are very gentle.”

“Oh,” Azriel glanced at your fresh bandage, “your wound. Right. It's cleaned and I applied the salve and new bandage.” he couldn't help the sadness in his tone. He was wrong. Of course he was wrong, you were a Death God and what would a God want with him? You kindly asked him to turn around so you could pull your top back on, “good as new I’d say.” You shot him with a wide smile, flexing your wings, showcasing their movement despite the taut feeling of the bandage.

He nodded in agreement, “you were saying something about a book?”

Azriel caught some of the information as you retold what you were looking for, his mind weaving in and out. Thoughts between this book you were in search of and that lingering feeling deep within his chest. He was startled to hear Rhys' voice in his mind suddenly, ‘We’ve been invited to the Day Court In celebration of Helion’s Birthing Day. Wrap up your findings and report at once. With or without the girl, Mor’s returned with her findings.’

Azriel followed you out of the hollowed tree, pacing back and forth anxiously, “There's this celebration in another court. I was hoping you’d attend. With.. with me? They have multiple libraries and Helion he’s a spell cleaver, I’m sure he’d allow you to visit the-”

You cut off his rambling, a clear attempt at convincing you to the Day Court. “Are you asking me on a date shadowsinger?”

The flush across his cheeks was adorable for an illyrian his size, “ Yes!” he confirmed, “I’d be honored to have you on my arm.”

Gods you wanted to accept and forget about your duties even for a night. You’d be working for Lady Autumn, ensuring her safety in secret as well as attending to her needs. “I’ll be in attendance. But I'm afraid I’ll be on someone else’s arm.”

“Someone else? Who?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart from its imminent break.

“Eris Vanserra.”

He should have stopped and stayed silent as his eyes darted to your bag. But his thoughts came spewing out of his mouth in anger, and once again he’d let his jealousy take over. “You’re fucking him! That's why you’re looking for contraceptive tea, I saw it in your bag.” Not a question but a statement.

“Who I fuck is none of your business!” You spat with equal rage, power surging through your veins clouding the once bright sky in gloom.

Azriel scoffs, and with a nasty bitter tone he landed a blow so low even his shadows recoiled, “how could you say you loved lucien and then fuck his brother? No wonder he left you!”

Immediate.

Regret.

Your face crumbles in pain as his words form a dagger and slice at your beating heart. As if sensing your sorrow, a roar of thunder echoed nearby, threatening to unleash its ferocity.

“Shit! I’m sorry. Please… I didn’t” Azriel inches forward. You step back, eyeing him slowly from head to toe and back up again, nothing but loathing and hurt in your cold stare. You remained silent but all Azriel heard through the agony in your beautiful face was ‘you aren't worth my time.’

“I don't expect you to understand the sacrifices one has to make when you're in love, when no one has ever loved you! And the next time you decide to disrespect me, I'll be sure to remind you how vile a Death God can be.”

You didn’t bother to look back at him as you walked away.

Part 5

A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read, I really appreciate it. :)

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luxtout · 11 months

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Flames Unveiled (Chapter 5- Red Eyes) Aegon II Targaryen X (Bastard Velaryon) Reader X Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After six years living away from Kings Landing, you and your family are summoned back, for reasons unknown. Your mother, Rhaenyra, has different plans for you. You swore to always protect your family, but at what cost?

Warning: References to / sexual content (18+), injuries, cursing, drinking, fights, angst

Tagged: @faesspace

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Hands gripped your waist, squeezing your flesh. Your breath hitched as the hand slid up your frame and stopping underneath your chin.

Your eyes remained close, no one spoke, only the feeling of hands roaming your body sent a wave of madness over you. Lips kissed the skin that was bit, causing little gasps and moans to escape your lips.

"Please," You moaned, your voice was needy, you reached for the figure's hair, but could not find anything. The voice was unrecognizable, only humming resuming its sucking on your neck.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, as you pressed your thighs together, pleasure rushed over you. A moan slipped from your lips, as your eyes cracked open to see a flash of silver hair...

The sensation of hot water pouring over your head brought you back from your daydream. You had awoken earlier from the dream, the aches from your core still lingered from the pleasure the dream gave you.

"Was it exciting?" Mara asked, her hands busy lathering soap on your scalp. She had pieced together your nighttime escapade when she noticed the rags beneath your bed, stained with wine and emanating a distinct odor.

"It was different," you sighed, glancing over at your handmaiden. Her fingers worked through your hair, but your mind wandered to the hands that had explored your body. You grappled with the confusing sensations in your stomach, a mixture of feeling both wrong and right. "Mara, I have a question. I didn't understand the sounds. The sounds the women in the pleasure house were making—were they in pain?"

Your handmaiden stifled a laugh, "Oh, let me think of how to explain this... The women were experiencing delight. It is normal, my Princess."

You fell silent, responding only with a thoughtful hum. As Mara rinsed your hair, she observed you clenching and unclenching your fists, lost in your thoughts.

"Are you alright, Princess?" Mara's voice was soft as she applied oils to your body.

"It's just," you began, "I felt off last night. It feels sinful to feel this way." You hesitated to reveal the details of your dream to her.

Mara continued to work, rinsing your body, and then spoke gently, "No, it is not sinful. Those are very normal feelings. They are what drive men and women..."

"Drive them to what?" You asked.

"Has your mother ever discussed... how to perform the marital act?" Mara whispered in your ear; her tone hushed.

You shook your head, a blush rising to your cheeks. "I'd rather not ask my mother about that. It would turn into a very long conversation."

Mara hummed and assisted you out of the tub, her gaze falling on a slight bruise on your waist. "Is that from riding Lyrax?"

You followed her gaze, feeling a slight pang of pain. You hadn't remembered what could have caused it – perhaps a bump or a fall, or maybe it had resulted from Aegon's firm grip when he pulled you away from the man in Flea Bottom. "Perhaps," you replied.

Your riding leathers were laid across the bed, and you instructed Mara to leave and instruct the guards for a carriage to take you to the dragon pit. As you dressed, you watched your reflection in the mirror, noting the light purple bruise on your waist, faintly resembling the impression of a couple of fingers.

The air was moist outside, and you knew that rain was expected later in the day. Lyrax enjoyed all kinds of weather, but he particularly loved storms, blending in with the grey clouds and rain. When you were ready, you made your way to the carriage waiting outside the Keep. Guards stood at the ready, nodding as you approached.

"Princess."

The carriage was comfortable, and you leaned against the cushions, ready for the short journey to the dragon pit. As you settled in, you heard someone enter through the door.

"May I join you?" Aemond was dressed in his riding leathers, and he didn't wait for a response before taking a seat. The carriage door closed, and it started moving along the stone path.

"Well, I don't see why not." You crossed your arms, attempting to avoid his watchful eye. His dagger, one you hadn't seen him carry before, was strapped to his hip, and he lightly tapped his fingers against it. "Have you seen Helaena?"

Aemond adjusted his position in the seat. "Yes, she's well. She wishes to apologize. As do I."

"Why must you apologize?" You responded almost too quickly, clutching at your leather, a noticeable anxious tick.

"For my brother," Aemond began, his hands falling to his knees.

"You don't need to apologize for him, and neither does he," you stated firmly, a slight smile curling at the corners of your lips.

Aemond's chuckle was low, "I knew you would say that. Aegon gets off too easily."

Your smile dropped, and your eyes took on a distant look as you remembered Aegon's growing problems. His once occasional drink at dinner had escalated into replacing every empty cup with more wine, his wandering eyes peering down the dresses of handmaidens. The change was nearly too much for you to bear. The two of you had been great friends, bonding as the eldest siblings in the family, but the mounting pressure seemed to have taken a toll on him.

"Why have you come to the dragon pit, uncle? I thought you had training to attend to," you asked as the carriage came to a halt.

Aemond nodded, "Yes, but Vhagar hasn't taken to the skies in weeks."

There was a lump in your throat as he mentioned Vhagar. "Well, I will leave you to it," you said before quickly walking from the carriage toward the dragon pit. The eager cries of Lyrax reached your ears, bringing a smile to your face.

"Māzigon kesīr, Lyrax," you called out to him, and like a child running to its mother, he squalled and rushed toward you, causing a few men to chase after him. "Easy."

The bond you shared with Lyrax was unique; even after years apart, you both acted as if no time had passed. Lyrax had missed you, and the loyalty he showed you was something you cherished.

"Ivestragī's sōvegon," you cooed in his ear as you mounted him. Let's fly. His grey wings spread, running slowly before pushing up into the air. Your fingers wrapped around the reins as you leaned to the side. You felt the light droplets of water as you rode into the clouds. Underneath Lyrax, you heard the roar of another dragon, and Vhagar nearly knocked Lyrax off balance.

Your heart leapt into your throat as Aemond eyed you from Vhagar. Vhagar's towering presence over Lyrax caused him to roar at the giant.

"That was a very dangerous move, Aemond," you scowled, trying to adjust yourself in the saddle.

"Why not ride together?" Aemond proposed, his smirk widening as he issued the challenge.

"Fine, if you can catch up with us," you responded, feeling Lyrax shift beneath you. He let out a triumphant roar as he dropped down, spinning through the wind. Such daring maneuvers were not uncommon when you rode with Lyrax, and you loved the exhilaration and the sense of freedom that came with them. Riding on the back of Lyrax was where you felt most alive. His speed and agility made it seem as though he could slice through the air like Valyrian steel.

Aemond made every effort to keep up, but his dragon struggled to match your speed. Vhagar's massive body dipped low, and his wings stretched wide above you. Lyrax shot forward, twisting and soaring upward before plunging down, sending you both freefalling toward the ocean below. You braced yourself for Lyrax to halt the descent and shoot back upward.

"Sȳrī gaomagon," you praised him, rubbing his head. Well done.

Aemond peered down at the scene from above, his heart sinking until he saw Lyrax gracefully ascend to meet him. He couldn't help but laugh at your boldness and audacity.

You both flew like that for hours until the rain started to coat your face. Landing the dragons in the rain proved to be the most challenging part, with the wind picking up as you closed in on the dragon pit.

Lyrax darted inside the pit, cooing in contentment before disappearing from your sight. The carriage was just a few paces away, but someone stood at the opening: the Queen.

Aemond remained behind, his gaze fixed on you until you nodded your goodbye. "Come here, dear. Before you get sick," the Queen's soft voice beckoned.

"I apologize, Your Grace. I hope you were not waiting long," you said as you took the seat opposite Alicent. She was attired in a dark green dress, with a black cloak draped over her, and her hair was elegantly coiled around her head.

"You do not need to apologize. I have heard that once you and your dragon are in the sky, you will stay up there for hours," she remarked, reaching out to take your hand. "You remind me of your mother when she was younger. Always with her dragon."

"I have heard stories. Is there a reason for this meeting?" You asked, your anxiety growing, waiting for her to mention your escapades with Helaena.

"We must make proper preparations for your name day celebrations," Alicent smiled, and the carriage started moving as you both discussed the upcoming event.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘

"Se dāria emagon ivestretan issa hen aōha kȳvana syt issa brōzi tubis." The Queen has told me of your plans for my name day, your voice softened as your mother's fingers ran through your hair.

"Gaomagon ao daor raqagon skoros īlon planned?" Do you not like what we planned? She sounded eager to know, her fingers halted, causing you to quickly shake your head. They both planned a three-day event, on the first day would be a grand feast, the second day a tournament, and the final day a ball.

Switching back to the Common Tongue, you addressed Jace, who was sitting in the corner of the room, and Luke beside him. "No, I think it's brilliant. But is it too much? I am only turning eighteen."

Rhaenyra smiled, "You are the daughter of the heir to the throne, my future heir. The King has approved."

Jace, however, changed the subject, "What were you saying before in Valyrian? It was hard to keep up." He was grinning, and his comment prompted laughter from both you and your mother.

"Jace, you never truly liked to learn Valyrian unless on dragon back," you replied with a laugh. Your mother joined in, and the tension seemed to ease.

"Sister, what about your flying today? I believe I heard two dragons overhead," Jace pressed.

Squirming in your seat, you began to explain, "Uh, Aemond was going to Vhagar-"

But your brothers' groans and your mother's stiffness interrupted you. Jace spoke firmly, "Do not go near him, sister."

"He did not try to feed me to his dragon. It was a friendly race," you defended yourself, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I will always remember what he is, brothers."

How could you forget.

Rhaenyra decided to change the subject, "That's enough now. Boys, why don't you take the air with your sister?"

Groaning in unison, your brothers reluctantly stood from their seats. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror; your hair hung loose, and you wore a simple blue dress that was a bit too long.

The courtyard was teeming with people, gardeners meticulously tending to the flowers, and the ladies of the court huddled together, whispering as you walked by.

"Dear sister, do you not bathe?" Jace sneered, his voice carrying so that the ladies could hear, and Luke began to gag.

"I will feed you to Lyrax," you retorted through clenched teeth. Your face burned with embarrassment as the ladies around you laughed and quickly walked away. "Did you find pleasure in that?"

The boys were consumed by uncontrollable laughter, Jace wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he gathered his breath. "Y/N, do you realize this will be our last moon together as a family?"

Your head cocked to the side, puzzled. "Why would you say that?"

The smile faded from Luke's face as his brother explained, "After your name day, you are to be married. Some lord will take you away to a part of Westeros, and it won't be long until you become Queen."

You shook your head, whispering softly, "I will not become Queen in this lifetime. You've seen how they challenge our mothers, right? For the realm to follow a second woman, it would shatter. No one would pledge fealty to me."

"I will kill anyone that tries to-"

"You will do no such thing, do not be stupid, brother," you admonished Jace, pinching his side. "Be smart, if anyone overhears this talk..."

"Niece, nephews, what a pleasure to see you all here today!" Aegon's voice interrupted your conversation. He stumbled into the courtyard, not holding a drink, but his brother was at his side.

You took a step forward and addressed Aegon, "Aegon, I thought you would be piss drunk by supper."

Aegon drew nearer, laughing as he pointed his finger. "That time cannot come soon enough, right, brother?"

Aemond straightened his posture, glaring at your brothers behind you. Jace attempted to hold you back, but his grip loosened with a shrug.

"Then I should not deprive you of your drink, uncle," you said, waiting for him to leave. But he didn't. He clasped his hands in front of him, smirking and unable to contain his excitement, rolling back on his heels with a chuckle. "May I ask what's funny, uncle?"

Aemond turned to his brother, appearing just as bewildered as the three of you. Jace and Luke attempted to reach for your sleeve, but Aegon finally stepped forward and leaned in close. His lips grazed your ear as he whispered, "Nothing. I was just thinking you would be such a lovely bride." He paused, then added with a wicked tone, "Or whore."

Your vision was blurred with anger, and neither of you noticed your hands raising, delivering furious strikes to each other. Anger seethed through both of you, with his hand finding your head and chest as your retaliation came in the form of slaps. Jace, Luke, and Aemond stood still for a moment, watching in disbelief as you both exchanged heated words in Valyrian, and the fight escalated from punches to slapping.

"Cease this!" Guards began to rush into the yard. Jace and Luke restrained you, while Aemond did the same with Aegon. Both of you were now bruised and bloody, with Aegon flashing a pathetic smile, revealing teeth stained with blood. "What is the meaning of this?"

Your chest heaved as you listened to Aegon speak, "We were just having fun."

The guard looked between the two of you, "You both will have to report to the King."

"The King?" You both whined, as the guard already started to escort both of you up the stairs. Embarrassment was all you felt as you walked shoulder to shoulder with Aegon, who seemed to share the same feeling.

"This is your fault," you accused, keeping your gaze on your gown, your fingers curled over the fabric, noticing specks of blood on the material.

"My fault?" Aegon laughed, sounding astounded by the accusation. "You struck me first."

"You started it. You got mad that I got the best of you in a fight." That comment caused Aegon to stop moving, and he only glared at you with clenched fists before resuming his steps.

The guard left both of you in the King's bedchamber, even though it was empty. Your lip quivered as you looked around, and Aegon had already made himself comfortable, helping himself to a glass of wine and pouring a second. "Here."

You were hesitant to take the glass, but you needed a way to soothe your anxiety. The wine was a sweet Dornish blend. Aegon downed his glass, and you followed, placing the glass back on the table.

"What is the meaning of this?" The King hobbled in, his breath was rigid as he tried to balance himself on his cane. The Queen and your mother ran in behind him, and you prayed to the Gods that Daemon did not show up.

Both of you spoke in a jumbled rant, trying to explain what happened, but the King, your grandsire, did not want to hear it. "Enough."

"Y/N, tell me why you struck him," Rhaenyra demanded, her lips pressed in a firm line as she waited.

"I do not know." Your words shocked Aegon, his eyes widened slightly. "We were talking, and I-"

"It was a playful jest," Aegon interrupted, pouring himself another glass of wine. "My niece and I were at a crossroads on dueling. She wanted to try since she could not hold a sword, and she decided to use her hands. It was a fair fight."

The Queen's lip quivered in anger, glaring at her husband. Your mother looked down at you, as if she did not know what to do. The King moved closer, saying, "Say your peace with each other and be done with it."

Alicent's face reflected the same look she had when Aemond lost his eye. She did not think that was sufficient. "She struck the prince."

"He struck the princess," Rhaenyra interjected, watching her father for a response.

You and Aegon felt like spectators in the verbal war that was about to start. Alicent turned to look at your face, noticing a bruised forehead, cheek, and a split lip. Her eyes shifted to Aegon, who had blackened eyes, a split lip in two places, and a gash on his cheek. She quickly made her way to Aegon, striking him where he stood.

He held his head down after the blow, but you heard him sniff, adjusting his posture to avoid any eye contact.

"He did not mean it, Your Grace," your voice faltered, noticing the tears forming in his eyes. "I am equally to blame."

Everyone stood still, watching to see what was to happen. "The both of you leave as we discuss your proper punishments."

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, nodding as you turned to leave the room. Aegon stood frozen for a moment, but he quickly turned and followed you as his mother came near him again. You could hear the murmurs of the three adults inside before the door closed behind you, leaving you both out in the hall.

Aegon's eyes were glossed over, his jaw clenched in anger or sorrow. His fists clenched and unclenched, letting his guard down.

"Aegon," you started, your hand reached for his, but he hastily turned away, his face contorted with emotion.

"Don't you touch me," he spat, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Like you said, you're equally to blame, yet I get punished, always. You cloud their judgment because you were born a girl, and I, a disappointment. Now they are furious that I am taking you down the same path."

You stepped closer to him, licking your lips, tasting the blood. "If you weren't an asshole, you would not be treated like a disappointment."

Aegon licked his teeth, laughing bitterly. He did not respond, just stood in silence. The blood on your dress darkened, and you tried to rub it off with your nail. You fought the burning sensation in your eyes, but a tear rolled down your cheek. You were once friends with this man, shared jokes, played games, danced, and now you beat each other senseless.

A click of the doorknob made you both stand straight, and everyone walked out in a line, the King struggling to keep up with the women. "We have come to a decision. You both have confirmed it to be a game, but at your age, you should know better. Both of you, back to your bedchambers at once. You will stay there until prompted."

Your eyes found their way to Aegon one last time before he stomped away. Rhaenyra took your arm, guiding you with her free hand on your lower back. The Queen stood watching everyone disperse before following her son to further his punishment.

"How dare you make a fool of this family?" Your mother shouted as she closed your bedchamber doors.

"I made a fool? It is not I who started it!" You finally let the tears fall.

"Then tell me, why did you not speak the truth to your grandsire, the King?" Her hand rested on a chair, motioning for you to sit, but you refused.

"I do not know." You lost your voice again, causing your mother to laugh.

"If I bring your brothers here, will they tell me the same story? That they 'do not know?' Please, Y/N, the Queen wanted you to be as equally punished as Aegon. Be grateful she pardoned you."

You hated Aegon, and you were glad he was getting punished, but why did the thought bring tears to your eyes? "Leave me be."

Rhaenyra sighed, placing her hands in yours, "You are to be a woman grown. Your name day will change everything you know. If the gossip of this fight came to light... You are lucky."

You bit your lip, causing it to sting, "Leave."

Rhaenyra nodded, kissing your forehead as she made her way to the exit. You let out a sob; the air in the room was suffocating. Your dress was ruined; you grasped for the strings, ripping them from the corset. Torn fabric and string pooled around your feet, leaving you in your chemise.

You spent hours sitting on the floor, whether it be to read or to think. No one came to relieve you from your chambers, but you did not mind. A knock at the door startled you from your book, quickly finding your red and black robe, tying it around your waist. "Come in."

Aemond walked in, and Mara followed after, "I thought you could do with some dinner."

A smile formed on your lips as you watched him help Mara place the plates of food on the table. Mara eyed you with a wide smirk, but you lifted your hand to leave. "Thank you, uncle. You did not need to go to these lengths."

"No bother. The least I can do after my brothers... antics this evening." His voice was low, like Aegon could hear the conversation. He pulled out a chair at your table, pushing it in after you settled in.

"I apologize for my appearance..." You looked to the floor, the remains of your dress still coated the carpet and wood. "How is he?"

Aemond poured you a glass before speaking, "My brother knows his stunts will leave him in a compromising position with our mother. He does them anyway, but this time I truly do not understand why he did what he did."

You sipped at your glass, "I thought he would grow from these... He was never like this when we were children." You glanced at your plate, meat pie and roasted vegetables, making you suddenly aware of how hungry you were.

"It has been years since you had last seen us. Before, you were just a girl... now you are a woman grown." His eye lingered over every part of you, making you wish you had a gown on. "Your name day will come soon enough."

"I would rather wait. Your mother has come up with a very elaborate three-day celebration leading up to the day. It is something to entertain all in the realm, that is to be sure." You started cutting at your plate. Aemond moved his plate around, looking at the food in distaste.

Silence engulfed the both of you, turning your stomach sour. You watched his hand drop his fork, leaning forward as his fingers grazed yours. "Uncle, is the food not to your satisfaction?"

You did not know why you asked that, if it was genuine or if it was to cut the tension, but Aemond didn't respond. His hand rested on yours, his cold stare sent shivers down your spine, thinking of the dream you had.

"Uncle?" Your gut twisted as he scooted closer, his hand trailing up your arm to your face. Panic welled up inside you.

You sat looking at him for as long as it took for the food to grow cold. His eye never met yours, only glaring at how his thumb and forefinger rubbed your soft features. Your hand crept up to his, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. In a flash, he let go, lifting from his chair and leaving the room.

You sat unbelievably still; shock went through you as the door clicked shut. Your eyes shifted to your plates; the food now turned your stomach upside-down, raising from your seat with a tremble.

"I thought he would never leave." A voice spoke from behind, and Aegon entered the front room with a stumble.

You jumped, "Aegon, what... How did you get in here? Did the guards relieve you?"

Your uncle was dressed in the rags he wore the night before; his shirt was a tad oversized for his frame. He discarded his cloak on the floor as he eyed your table.

"The passageways, remember?" He brushed past you, his hand brushing against your back and arm before sitting at the table. He picked up the fork Aemond was holding, shoving the food into his mouth.

"Did they not feed you?" You noticed his pace, clearing his plate and moving to yours.

"What was my brother doing here?" He questioned, ignoring yours. His eyes were focused on you, raking over every detail.

"It is not out of the ordinary, he comes here with supper, and we talk." Your voice was quiet as you watched Aegon pour two glasses of wine. "Why did you lie to them?"

He halted, his glass barely touching his lips, "We are not friends."

You nodded, "Of course not. You are my uncle."

"Not even that." You did not understand, "Drink."

You slowly reached for the glass, sipping the sweet blend. Aegon followed, his violet eyes staring into yours.

"I did not tell them because my sister cares for you. Last night, she begged to show you mercy. Aemond made me swear not to tell anyone, and I don't know why. I honor my family. You, I do not."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, drinking more of the wine. "You hate me that much?"

Aegon laughed as he refilled both of your glasses. "I don't hate you... I loathe you. Ever since we were kids, if you got in trouble, you were never punished, it was me being punished. When you left, it was like a weight lifted from my shoulders, but then you returned. You can speak out whenever you like, strike whomever you like, sneak about, and yet face no retribution. When I cut your hair, I felt a piece of you crumble, finally showing some weakness. I wanted to leave you in Flea Bottom with those people, but I didn't-"

You interrupted, "Then why didn't you? You said it yourself; you loathe me so. Trust me, Uncle, I abhor you. You claim I can do as I please, yet you can disgrace your wife by visiting whores in a pleasure house. You drink every moment of every day, beat on my brothers, and whisper cruel comments in my ear. The blood of the dragon flows through me just as it does through you."

He smiled down at you, raising his glass to his lips. "Seems you have gotten me all figured out, haven't you?"

You gulped your wine. "You blame me for your beatings, but maybe it's because you shame your wife, your mother's daughter, and the King doesn't love you because you're not his daughter."

After those words left your lips, Aegon slammed his glass against the table, standing up. His lips formed a straight line as he licked them, watching you squirm. You attempted to straighten up in your seat, waiting for him to speak.

"Is that so?"

You nodded, "Why are you here?"

He let go of the table, stumbling around it. "Just wanted to stop by before I left."

Confused, you snapped out of your chair, "You're planning on leaving? Are you going to Flea Bottom?"

You were both face to face, not uttering a word to each other. You wanted to leave with him, to see what he does, who he sees. You wanted to leave the confines of your room. His eyes raked over your face, leaning in closer. "Go to bed, niece. You've gotten into far too much trouble for this day."

"I wish to go," you demanded, "Take me with you."

He pushed you aside, walking to his cloak. "No. Do you want a repeat of last night? I suggest you stay here, or else I tell the Queen of your times spent in a pleasure house."

You followed him, "If I am to be with you, nothing will happen."

"Did you forget about our conversation? I loathe you; you abhor me?" He cracked a smile, fastening the clasp before fixing his hood.

"I understand, and my hatred towards you will be pushed aside if you take me with you. Just for tonight, then we can ignore each other forever. Please, I want the freedom before I am to be sold off as some old lord's wife."

You saw the conflict in Aegon's eyes, anger and pity mixed together as he sighed. "Get dressed."

A small smile appeared on your face, and you rushed to the clothes underneath your bed. You turned around to Aegon. "Don't look." You would normally be shy about changing in front of someone other than a handmaiden, but your excitement clouded all anxiety. As you slipped on all your clothes and grabbed your hat, Aegon made his way to you.

"How did you know I was finished?" You cocked your head, annoyance lacing your words. Aegon grabbed your hat, shoving it on your head to cover the white streaks.

"At least hide these." He quickly took his hands from your hat, walking to the secret passageway and pushing back the door.

The familiar rush of adrenaline filled your body as you both rushed down the stairs. Aegon shushed you as you both hit the open air. Flea Bottom was just as lively as the night before, with music and laughter.

As you made it down the stairs into the streets, Aegon kept you within arm's reach. You tried to pinpoint where the music was coming from, wanting to listen to the drums all night, but Aegon gripped you by the arm, dragging you down an alley.

"Hey! I wanted to—" You protested, but Aegon placed his hand over your mouth. His face was close to yours, making it hard to see who he was hiding from. In the corner of your eye, you noticed the flash of a gold cape.

"If you don't want to get caught, I suggest you pay attention to your surroundings," Aegon whispered harshly, letting go of your mouth. His hand reached for your forearm, and he weaved in and out of the crowds of people before leading you into a tavern.

The tavern was different from the one you and Helaena had visited; this one had lively music playing as people danced and sang. You couldn't take your eyes off the musicians, watching their feet tap to the rhythm.

A bump to your shoulder pulled your attention away. "Here, drink." Aegon had two glasses of wine, handing one to you. You nodded, taking the glass and raising it to your lips. You gulped it all in one go, and Aegon followed suit, turning to the barkeep, "Another."

This time you were both served something stronger in spirits. As you lifted the glass to your lips, you both twitched from the strong taste. The beat of the drum vibrated in your bones, and the animosity you felt between each other seemed to disappear. The drinks piled on as you both clearly became intoxicated.

Hours passed as you both left the tavern, returning to the Keep became more of a challenge. You both hummed, running into walls and each other, stumbling up the stone steps. Your hat fell to the ground as Aegon's hood slipped while he tried to bend down to pick it up.

"Forget it," you hiccupped, "I have no... no need for it."

His hand still wrapped around the hat, "You forget, no one can notice you."

Your legs twisted in front of you, stumbling in the passageway hall. Aegon barely caught you, laughter echoed as he stumbled over you.

"We... We must find my chambers," your speech slurred as you finally found your footing. You reached your hand out to him, and he hesitantly accepted, his body shaking as you tried to guide him to your room. You found your chamber with the door cracked slightly.

Your eyelids felt heavy as you spoke, "I must take my leave, uncle. It's late, and I am... drunk."

Laughter spilled from his lips, and he walked closer, "Why should we stop now?" He pushed past you and walked back to the table where your wine was left. The passageway door was left open, and the cool air filled your room. You watched Aegon discard the glasses and bring the pitcher, drinking straight from it.

Laughter left your lips as you watched the wine spill down his chin. He slowly walked closer, and his fingers gently lifted your head, bringing the pitcher to your lips, feeling it drop down your chin. You both stood in silence, drinking your wine for hours.

"I still loathe you, Y/N," his voice croaked, his eyes were glazed over, almost as if tears were going to fall.

"I know," you felt a burning in your face as you swallowed a lump in your throat, "I still abhor you too."

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #jacaerys velaryon #lucaerys velaryon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #game of throne #daemon targaryen #slow burn #aegon x you #helaena targaryen #aemond x you #enemies to lovers #house targaryen #house velaryon

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thevesuvianchronicles · 6 months

Text

Burnt Amber

I was reading something the other night about the fact that in the dark the cones in our eyes legit can't respond to light like, at all. considering my recent bg3 binge that obviously got me thinking abt a certain sassy vampire and thus... this piece. (I've also been told there's a scene that could go along with this but I legit just got to act 3) enjoy!

spoilers for vague bg3 things

If he had to explain it - which he never would- the world lost its color. Many people looked back upon childhood so happily, everything had been brighter, the world bigger, love was so easy and quickly fleeting. A babe’s eyes opened to blurry yet vivid shades, pastels, and tints. Yet the first thing Astarion’s crimson eyes had seen was only the darkness of his own coffin. Color meant nothing to a vampire who’s first vivid memories consisted of clawing his way through six feet of funerary dirt.

Though his vampiric vision allowed him to make out the different threads on a rich man’s lapel, he only ever saw it in moonlight. Only a reflection, a fraction of the beauty the sun would give the fabric. Where there had been pastels there was now muted tones, tinted colors became gray, and shades became nothing but more inky darkness.

Centuries of this and he slowly began to forget the true colors the world had to offer. Was purple always so deep that one couldn’t discern where a sleeve ended and the night air began? Had yellow always seemed so dull? And red… had red always been so greedy? Soaking up and glaring back the same sick color he saw in Cazador’s eyes.

That’s all his vampiric life had been, that was all it ever would be.

Yet there he stood, watching the last of the sun’s rays dip below the horizon

Despite his suave demeanor and sweetened words, he knew how to woo someone, lure them into his bed with his body and honeyed words, and later back to his master. Yet no words could describe the sun now. It burned his irises, his eyes ached for him to blink, turn away, and do anything but stare into the sun. He simply couldn’t stop; it would take away his breath if he needed to breathe.

His first realization that color was far better within the sun was, rather unfortunately, Gale. Upon falling on his ass, Gale had done the wizardly thing and began rambling. However, Astarion wasn’t paying attention at all. His eyes were on Gale’s robe. He couldn’t remember a purple ever being so vibrant, so cocky almost, as if requiring you to look at it. It fit Gale as Astarion would come to learn. Then he saw purple everywhere. Balsam blooms carried but seemed a warmer tint of Gale’s robe. Shadowheart’s armor was even darker, matching that which Astarion saw late at night in the alleys of Bauldur’s Gate. He hadn’t really thought about it but he rather thought purple and red clashed. Leave it to that wizard from Waterdeep to be a walking fashion faux pas.

Yet despite the fashion error, Astarion couldn’t stop thinking about purple, the many different shades he had seen in a matter of days. The sun making the slightest variations more obvious to his crimson eyes.

He first realized that light is what made the colors so polluted, as if the colors were waiting to leach into his eyes when he couldn’t help but stare at the color yellow. It was, by far, not his favorite color, drawing too much attention of a rouge like himself.

Yet the golden glow of the divine seemed to suit Shadowheart. The brilliance of a guiding bolt whizzing past his ear, bathing a goblin in light, setting it ablaze. The disgusting color had saved his skin to many times to count by now. All thanks to the devotee’s hands.

The vampire couldn’t say he understood Shadowheart’s devotion. But the sheer power her belief brought the color yellow, made him quirk a brow. Such polluting brillance made him wonder if light was able to redeem every color.

The color followed him after that battle. Yellow licked at Karlach’s flames, light reflected off the golden threads of Halsin’s armor, it even sparked every time Lae’zel sharpened her sword.

Yet there was nothing that could redeem the color red. No amount of light or dark could make crimson look any better. In darkness it looked like a cesspool of all things evil, an open maw waiting to swallow whatever it could. In the light of day, it reminded him of nothing but lost souls, glowing red eyes, and a sickly grin.

It was the color Cazador liked most on him, both his clothes and his skin. It was the color his life had been reduced to. Living off such crimson ichor, so much so that it stained him, stained even his eyes from what he had gathered about vampiric looks. It was the only color that he would be happy to forget, but never could.

“You know if you stare at the sun long enough… you could go blind.” The voice came from behind him, his pointed ears finally picking up on the crunch of gravel beneath feet. His eyes did feel a bit dry as he blinked, black and swirling colors hindering his vision as he looked back over his shoulder.

The leader of their little group was… interesting to say the least. So focused on the tadpole and their companion's journeys that Astarion hadn’t learned much about their own personal goals, if any. He should work on that.

“I always love to look at beautiful things, not unlike yourself darling.” Astarion let the words lilt off his tongue, but didn’t turn away from the setting sun.

He heard a small hum from you as you settled beside him, standing close enough for him to tell that you had refreshed yourself from today’s adventuring.

Neither said anything for a while, the gentle rustle of trees and soft calls of animals in the underbrush the only noise. He had been so lost in his musings that he hadn’t realized how far the sun had set, a barely visible sliver of yellow still visible surrounded by orange and red.

“Well… now that the lovely colors are gone I do believe I’ll turn in for the night. A book and a glass of red do seem to be calling my name.” Astarion sighs, as if it would be a hassle to get up and walk the few steps to his tent. It is a hassle, to leave the presence of their leader has become more and more of a hassle on his heart than he’s willing to accept.

“Don’t go now, it’s just started to change.” Your voice was soft, softer than he has ever heard it and a glance tells him that your eyes are still on the setting sun.

“No thank you darling, I do think I’ve seen enough shades of red for a thousand lifetimes.” There is a twist of pain in his voice, one that makes him wrinkle his nose. He was getting too easy, a slip like that with Cazador and he would have been reminded how much he hates red.

“But the sky is beautiful-“

He cuts you off with a flippant wave of his hand and a scoff. A change of subject was all they needed, easier territory. “It’s just red. You know they say a red sky at night means-“

“It’s not just red Astarion.” You cut him short this time, tone sharp. He didn’t understand why you would defend such a color. Of all things to fight for, a color. They saw red spilled every day, every day their leader fought, for teiflings, for druids, for their companions. Each day that color ruined everything it touched.

“Oh? Do tell darling, what is oh so special about that distasteful mix of colors. A muddled mess of all things awful-“

“I rather think red is beautiful.” Astarion snaps his eyes up, disgust curling his lips, a flaunting jab just ready on the tip of his tongue when your eyes stop him.

At some point, he wasn’t sure when, you had turned to look at him. Eyes just as soft as your voice had been. There is a sweet tilt to your lips as he turns, as if finally seeing what they had been after.

He sees the minute shift of you eyes, as if darting back and forth. He can hear the uptick in your heartbeat, the tension releasing from your shoulders. As if the sight of him was what you were after, as if waiting to catch his eye.

Then he remembered. Remembered exactly what color his eyes now were.

“I happen to like that color.” You grinned, eyes steady on his. His mind was blank, no haughty taunt or seductive words. He could do nothing but blink as a grin spread wide on your lips and you turned back towards the sun.

“When the sun hits just right… it’s beautiful, a burst of burnt amber. I think it’s the prettiest color I’ve ever seen.” Astarion knew they were definitely not talking about the sunset anymore. He couldn’t help but stare at you. The curve of your nose, the way your smile seemed so giddy, the way the sun reflected in your own eyes.

Red was the color of the flowers Karlach had tried to pick for all of them. It was the color the jewels in Lae’zel’s armor, the color the hem of Gale’s awful robe. And it was the color of the blood you so willingly gave him. Had offered as soon as he had explained himself that night, without asking for anything in return. You were so different than what he expected.

He tutted, realizing he had been staring and turns back towards the sunset, listening closely as you go to sit on the ground. The bright yellow of the sun diffused into a russet orange that slowly eased into a vibrant, dazzled red. He sighed, slowly settling himself beside you, far closer than before.

“Yes darling, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I could grow to love it.”

#bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion

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lazyjellyfish300 · 4 days

Note

Can I request "watching a horror movie with Peter B. Parker"? 😳

Reader loves horror movies but Pete invites her over without knowing that

HIII. Sure, love! 🫶🏽 Wasn't sure if you meant to submit this as a SMAU request, since this idea seems to be more suited for a fic. My fic requests technically aren't open rn but since there is scarce material for Peter B., I will make ur dreams come true 🎃

I will open my requests for the entire month of October too as like a Flufftober thing so stay tuned for more information about that. 🖤

a horror movie night with peter b. 🎥🍿🎃🕸️🔪

CW: X FEM!READER, TAD SUGGESTIVE , MINORS DNI, DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD AND GORE, NAUSEA, KINDA GROSS. FLUFF AND CRACK. MINIMAL PROOFREAD.

WORDS: 2.6K 🔪

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer @spider-mon-de-parker @gltzpzy @pxtched

"Man, how are you about to have a Halloween movie marathon date night and no Halloween treats or decorations?!"

Margo Kess brings her fingertips together and leans forward, as though the absurdity of the situation was such that it required her full contemplation.

Peter B. quirked a brow, seemingly unable to grasp the seriousness of his offense.

"You're supposed to decorate?"

"Not supposed to, but you should." A new voice chimes in from around the corner.

Peter B. groans internally. He would be outnumbered this time. Enhanced spider hearing was both a blessing and a curse. And this time it leaned more towards a curse as it enabled the two spidergirls access to his private business.

2 versus 1.

Gwen saunters in, accompanied by a curious Pav.

Scratch that, make it three.

"It's kinda like returning your grocery cart in the parking lot. You won't get arrested if you don't do it. But it's a litmus test about whether or not you're a good citizen, or in this case a thoughtful boyfriend." Gwen hums.

Peter B. rakes his fingers through his hair, leaving the brown mop with flecks of silver disheveled.

"Oy vey, you ladies act like I'm not even going to feed the poor girl. I have snacks on the itinerary, you know this."

"Let me put it this way." Margo angles her clasped hands at Peter to lay down her point. "Your girlfriend is coming over to your apartment for the first time. Cool Ranch Doritos and Diet Coke isn't gonna cut it. And I say that as an individual who particularly appreciates those two things. Do you even have soap in your bathroom? Not counting the one you scrub your ass with in the shower? "

Peter groans, his mind suddenly plagued with an unchecked to do list of God knows how many items he was missing. And the movie date was to happen in t-minus 5 hours. He must have been out of the dating pool for longer than he thought.

But, they made a compelling point. Peter was crazy about you, and you deserved better than that. After a couple dates and a few intimate encounters that got a little bit, steamy, shall we say, your relationship was at a pivotal point. Teetering at the precipice between something serious and long lasting, or a fling that springs to a flame quickly but blows out with the winds of a couple fleeting months.

He sure hoped it was the former.

"We got you." Gwen assured, nudging his rib with her elbow. "Just give us your credit card and like... three hours?"

Pav strains his neck into the conversation. "I am correct in making the assumption that pumpkin spice flavored beverages and cake pops will be part of this excursion?"

Gwen sighs. "Yes, Pav."

Margo nods. "Yeah, you know, we could use your attention to detail, Pav."

Pav clenches his fist victoriously and Peter sweats a little bit for his financial stability by the end of this.

----

Peter can't recognize his living room as it's been transformed from head to toe into one of those rooms straight off some girl's Pinterest board entitled, "fall bucket list <3 🎃"

Festive orange candy corn and purple cauldron lights are strewn around his TV and from the ceiling to the floor, secured discreetly by spider webbing. His entertainment center is decked out in ghost shaped tea lights, casting decorative shadows on his empty walls. A large candle is burning on his coffee table that smells like a cinnamon pumpkin exploded in an apple orchard in the heart of October during a rain storm. Next to the candle is a large charcuterie board with assorted fruits, cheeses, crackers, and deli meats arranged to look like a spooky graveyard, next to a large tub of freshly popped popcorn with a mummy on it.

"The socks were all Pav's idea." Gwen hums in approval as she stands in front of her, Margo, and Pav's handiwork. Pav nods his head in acknowledgement, mouth full of a generous swig of his fall blended coffee drink in one hand with a half eaten cake pop in the other.

Peter notices the jack o'lantern print socks for him and the witches striped socks for you sitting next to some Frankenstein decorative throw pillows, along with an extra large plush throw blanket with black cats dressed up as trick or treaters, big enough for two people to snuggle underneath.

"Oh and do not forget to give her this!!" Margo holds out a spooky basket stuffed to the brim with all your favorite things straight out of a Target Halloween aisle.

"Hold on a sec, Burt's Bees, perfume, Ulta gift card...how much did you guys spend??"

"The pizza will be here in 10 minutes." Gwen checks her watch.

"Wait-hold on..." Peter B. is extremely particular about his pizza toppings.

"Oh, and we made some improvements to your bathroom. So it should be girlfriend-friendly." Margo shivers as she recollects the sad state of affairs they found it in before the trio waved their magic wands.

"Guys-"

Ding dong.

"Ope, that's her. Time to skaddadle. Anyways, good luck Pete!" Gwen webs to the outside window in the blink of an eye, Margo giving him the farewell salute close behind.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't dooo!" Pav calls in a sing-song voice before he's already gone as well.

Nothing like being thrown out a window without a parachute huh?

Peter straightens up and walks to the door.

Here goes freaking nothing.

He opens it and there you are, donning a comfortable crew neck Halloween sweater and eccentric earrings to match, a pan of brownies in hand.

Suddenly, the price tag of his Halloween apartment remodel is completely irrelevant.

You flash him a gorgeous smile. "Hi Pete."

"Hi, honey..." His lips spread into a charming grin. "Come on in."

You hand him the brownies and walk in, oxygen discarded in the entryway when you see the decked out, cozy movie setup for your date.

His apartment smells divine, first of all, and second of all, his living room looks like something straight out of your ideal version of a movie night if you could have planned it from scratch in your head.

It pulls you in like a freshly baked cinnamon roll with pumpkin cream cheese frosting with a blanket around your shoulders. You might just end up spending the night at this rate. You look over at Peter who's lost in your beauty like usual.

"All this for us? You shouldn't have, Pete! It's perfect."

"Y-yeah, hah. It was nothing, really. Just a little something. Wanted it to be festive, you know since it's Halloween and October and all."

He tried to play it off. You smile as he sets the pan of brownies down, almost catching his hoodie sleeve on fire on the giant candle in the process.

You weren't born yesterday. Peter must have some really sharp coworkers or something that did all this for him. He didn't seem like one with a knack or ability to be this elaborate. But, he was thoughtful, you'd give him that. He really was a man you hoped to be with for a long long time. And this Halloween date night, even if it was brought to you by the goodwill of the pumpkin fairy, you appreciated the gesture all the same.

"Make yourself at home." Peter gestures to the couch. The tense feeling in his muscles departs the moment you lean against his chest with a sigh.

"I missed you babe."

"I missed you, honey." He smiles, running a finger down the side of your face.

"What's this?" You take notice of the conspicuous Halloween gift basket and matching socks.

"Oh-those are for us." Peter leans forward, handing you your pair of socks. "And this is for you..." He hands you the spooky gift basket.

Your smile spreads wider and wider across your face as you unwrap each item. Who gives a damn if the pumpkin fairy was responsible? Nobody's ever done anything like this for you.

"Pete....you're so sweet. Thank you."

"No problem, beautiful."

Your gaze moves to one another's lips, both of your eyelids inadvertently becoming heavier when your eyes meet his.

"Um-" the apples of Peter's cheeks bloom a little red as he takes the remote hastily in his hand. "Let's get started, shall we?"

You nod, looking down with a smile as you shifted to get more comfortable on the couch, leaning snug against his chest, both feet tucked in your brand new socks and underneath the fuzzy edges of the Halloween blanket. There would be plenty of time for some action later.

"Why don't you choose the movie, honey?" Peter hands you the remote.

Honored with the power in your hand he was relinquishing over to you, you take it with a smile and begin to scroll through your options on his flat screen TV.

Peter kicks his feet up leisurely, already making a sizeable dent in the popcorn bucket. The doorbell rings again, signaling the arrival of the pizza.

—-

When Peter sets the plates of two generous slices for each of you on the coffee table with bottled root beers, he is a little surprised to discover the option you landed on while he was gone.

"Oh, what's this?"

"Psychological horror." You hum nonchalantly ,snuggling next to him and taking a large bite of the pizza, melted cheesy goodness warming your belly.

"I heard it's really good. It won an Oscar for the special effects, I heard."

"Ohh."

Peter gulps. He wasn't expecting you to make such a...bold choice for the first movie. You look up at him with those adorable big eyes of yours, a little bit of pizza sauce staining the corner of your mouth.

Well what was he going to do? Tell you no? Reveal that he's actually a huge pussy when it comes to scary movies? When he invited you over for movie night, he was expecting Tim Burton level horror. Not this hard core stuff.

Well, once again, here goes nothing.

---

Movie number one is done, and Peter already knows he's having fucking nightmares tonight. It's gonna take a prescription of an episode of Friends, maybe 2 episodes of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air to cleanse his system before he can comfortably fall asleep, just to be safe.

And there you are, happy as a clam.

"That was crazyyyy don't you think??" You turn to him with an enthusiastic smile.

"Uh, yeah it was...it was something alright, honey."

Peter's white as a ghost, but miraculously you seem to remain unaware of his struggling state, possibly thanks to the dim light, as the sun has set below the horizon for quite some time now.

"Can we watch one more?" You ask, sitting up to help yourself to a brownie.

"Um..."

And once again, what is Peter to do?

"Sure we can, honey."

"Yay!"

Peter feels like he might have a little bit of hope as you start looking at some older films. Those cheesy horror movies could probably be much more manageable.

"This one!"

But oh no, he's not getting off the hook so easily. His heart sinks to his stomach as he realizes he's in for another long ride.

You chose some 80s slasher film. And yes, while it has that corny nature of old horror movies, there is no shortage of gore. Blood spurts everywhere, guts flying across the screen. It's detailed and it's quite violent.

Oh here we go...

----

About an hour in and Peter feels himself turn a sickly shade of green.

This time, it's more obvious as you notice Peter seems to be fighting for his life next to you. He isn't digging the horror flick as much as you thought.

"Babe, you okay?" You look up at him, the expression on his face slightly unclear, as the glow of the TV's flicker shadows his face a bit.

He turns to look down at you tucked under his arm. "Y-yeah. I'm good, honey."

He gives your shoulder a squeeze but he's not winning an Oscar for his acting anytime soon. He chokes back a gag when the masked killer slices one of the character's throat and a blood squirt shoots up like a volcano of forbidden fruit punch.

"You don't like these?" You ask, raising a concerned brow.

"Well..." Peter winces as he watches the fake red sea of viscous blood fill up the screen as the killer held up the decapitated head.

"Not particularly, I mean..."

The guts on screen begin to look like his pizza toppings. Peter B.'s appetite flies out of the window quicker than the beginnings of his hairline at age 28.

"Yeah n-no, not really..." He chokes back a wretch.

"Oh Pete!"

You pause the movie, leaning over and turning on the lamp on the table next to the arm of the couch. Peter's discomfort is much more clear to you now as he leaned over, holding his stomach.

"Peter, why didn't you tell me you disliked horror films??"

"Why didn't you tell me you liked them?" He takes a deep breath, leaning over and laying his head on your chest.

You play with his hair, reclining back until you position your head on a pillow, his nausea slowly disappearing with each steady, calm thrum of your heart in your chest next to his ear.

"Silly man, I thought we were having a scary movie night." You tease softly, kissing his hair, subtle notes of his shampoo and Old Spice. The familiar scent of your boyfriend you've come to know and love.

"I was expecting Beetlejuice scary at most..." Peter scoffs, looking up at you, flashing you those most adoring, chocolate brown eyes. Sweeter than any Halloween candy on the shelves.

"Baby." You sniff air through your nose, shaking your head. "I love all that horror shit, but you should have told me." You smile, the feeling of his blunt stubble tickling the palm of your hand, his gaze liquifying as you caressed his face with your caring touch.

"We can watch something silly so you can fall asleep."

"Mm..." Peter's eyes close. If he was a cat, he would be purring. You smile, continuing to tangle your hands softly in his messy hair. He was so damn handsome, and you just wanted this Halloween movie night to end on a good note for you both. "Thanks, sweetheart." He sighs deeply.

He turns his chin, his hands finding purchase underneath your sweater, the heat from his bare palms cascading all up and down your body as he silently watched some 90s reruns with you, eyelids weighing heavier and heavier as the late hour dragged past midnight.

"Stay with me tonight?" He asks softly, some time later, sitting up and leaning over you so his body is pressing directly into yours, groaning, and your lips parting slightly as you took in the sight of him on top of you. A bit of that suppressed tension that was bottled up from earlier was fighting to be released at last.

"I don't wanna impose, Pete..."

The ending of your sentence fades into a muffled moan of surrender when he starts leaving slow, tantalizing kisses in a coaxing row on your jaw.

"You can sleep in my bed..." He whispers. "We don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with, baby..."

He kisses you gently, at long last. "Just stay with me, sweetheart. I don't want you going home alone this late..."

You gaze up at him, a sea of putty underneath him.

"Please?" He wiggles his brow in that adorably goofy manner that had you biting your lip.

"Okay, Peter."

You smile, your eyes screwing shut once again when his lips connected promptly with yours, sweeping you up into his awaiting arms, tucking you into one of his hoodies and pajama pants before he fell asleep with you cuddled in his arms.

Nightmares kept at bay thanks to your loving presence. Halloween couple's movie night a spookily romantic success.

#from my trees . ˚ 𖧷 ·𓇥 ° . ♡#peter b. parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter b. parker x reader #atsv peter b parker #peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #x fem!reader #atsv fluff #peter parker

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honey-crypt · 2 months

Text

KEEPER OF THE GLISTENING SEA - a merman!elliott x plus-sized!reader love story

01. LIGHT IN THE NIGHT

word count: 2.6k

warnings: mentions of shady capitalistic schemes (joja, duh!), one-off mention of psychedelics/hallucinogens

summary: it’s time for you to learn the ways of the lighthouse from willy, the expert of all things sea-related. you befriend a few residents of pelican town and find yourself easing into the groove of the valley. but what’s that flash of red you keep seeing at night?

author’s note: i wrote this like an hour after the prologue so enjoy <3

The incessant gawking of seagulls startled you awake before the crack of dawn. You grumbled a curse to yourself at their volume and tried to fall back asleep. Of course, that was a waste, as the seagulls continued to shriek at one another. Defeated, you kicked the covers off your body and pulled yourself out of bed, the woody floor creaking loudly under your bare feet. You soon dragged your exhausted body into the tiny bathroom and began your morning routine.

Halfway through brushing your teeth after your shower, you heard rapid knocking on your door. You exited the bathroom and opened the front door, revealing an older man with a greying beard and a brown cap, “Ahoy,” he greeted you, “Name’s Willy. Benny informed me that you arrived yesterday.”

“Willy!” you mumbled aloud, pulling the toothbrush out your mouth, “It’s, uh,” you realized that you were still in your pajamas and with terrible bedhead, “Wish we could’ve met when I was more… dressed.”

“No need to fret,” he reassured you, “I’ve seen worse, such as the time I caught the mayor in his lucky purple shorts,” the fisherman jested. He then held out a white box to you, “I just wanted to deliver you yer uniform, I got dear Emily making a few spares in the meantime.”

You took the box from his hands, surprised by its weight. Willy tipped his cap to you, “I’ll see you in an hour,” and walked off towards the nearby docks, where you noticed a small shop perched on it. You waved him off and shut the door behind you, eager to see your uniform. Gently, you unboxed the package, pulled out each part of your uniform, and fully assembled it on the dining table. Your face grew hot at the design of the uniform, a cross between traditional lighthouse keeper's attire and the kind of seafarer outfit someone would purchase for a Spirit’s Eve party.

The top half of your uniform was pretty fine, consisting of a white button shirt with a navy blue suit vest and matching suit jacket. Yet, it was the bottom half that made your palms sweaty. The pants, while appropriate for the warmer seasons, were high-waisted black shorts, adorn with three metallic buttons on each side. At least, the pants were the only real issue you had, the provided knee high socks and sturdy docker shoes not being much of an issue. You looked back at the pants and let out a frustrated huff before returning to your morning routine.

You stood before the wall hung mirror on your bathroom door in your new uniform, trying to break it in a bit before work. It caught you off guard how good it fit you, especially the pants. You adjusted your hat, navy blue with the symbol of the valley’s pride and joy- the Stardrop- in the center. Almost like the keeper’s uniform from hundreds years ago, you fiddled with your uniform, Except mine’s… more twink-ish.

You checked the time on your phone, thankfully able to get service from the one cell tower in the valley, Oh! It’s time.

After double-checking that you had everything you needed for your big day, you made your way out of the cabin and towards the lighthouse, only a few feet away. Outside its entrance, Willy was nursing a cigar, he quickly sniffed its flame upon your arrival, “Ahoy, again,” the fisherman pulled out a large ring of keys and selected the shiniest one, “Thank you for being timely, laddie, I do appreciate it,” he unlocked the door to the lighthouse, “Follow me and do be listening to all my blabbering.”

You followed Willy into the lighthouse, the door slowly closing behind you. A soft whistle escaped your lips at the interior, just as sleek as Benny described it in his letter. Yet, you couldn’t admire its shininess for long, as Willy began reviewing the basics of lighthouse keeping while walking up the spiral staircase, “Usually, it be up to a member of the Ferngill Republic Coast Guard or Navy to man a lighthouse such as this beaut, but given the ongoing war, not many are available to take this job.”

“How come I got it?” you asked, “In all honesty, I have very little experience with this kinda thing.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” chuckled the fisherman, “The mayor wanted me to do it since I’m a retired member of the Navy,” his footsteps thumped against the stairs, “But I already have my hands full at my shop. That’s when yer cousin told us that you had the guts to take it on,” the older man stopped upon making it to the main mechanical floor of the lighthouse, “And the fact that you be the strongest swimmer he knows.”

You raised your eyebrows, “What does good swimming have to do with maintaining a lighthouse?”

Willy cracked a small smile, “You be surprised. When out on these waters, yer ability to swim be the divide between making it home for supper or sinking to the bottom.”

You pressed your lips together, still not comprehending his words. Nonetheless, Willy moved onto explaining the basic functions of the lighthouse and your duties. To your joy, your main responsibilities were cleaning the light and troubleshooting its automated systems when necessary, “Thankfully, ‘is not like the old days where a keeper had to maintain the wicks of the lighthouse,” stated Willy, “The system is set up to do most of the work for you.”

He showcased the various dashboards of equipment, detailing each of their purposes. You made sure to take notes while he explained, not wanting to break any of the obviously expensive equipment. By the time you finished your tour with Willy, you were utterly drained, lighthouse terminology bouncing around your head like ping pong balls. Willy flashed you a toothy grin, “You’re doing well, laddie. This won’t be too hard for you and I’ll be here to train you for the next week and so.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear,” you relaxed your posture, relieved to hear that you weren’t being thrown to the wolves- or sharks, in this case- already.

“Report here tomorrow by dawn, laddie. We got a lot of work on our hands! Other than, you be free to enjoy the rest of your day,” Willy laughed, giving you a gingerly pat on the back before making his way to the bottom of the lighthouse. You copied his move and headed outside, grateful that you could change out of your uniform. Back in the cabin, you swapped your uniform for a comfy muscle tee and some shorts, collapsing on your bed. You checked the time again, that took FIVE hours? you gawked at the change in time. A groan fell from your lips, “It’s not even noon and I’ll already tired.”

Not wanting to succumb to your exhaustion, you switched your focus on unpacking your belongings. It only took an hour or so to fully unpack, you didn’t bring that much with you. For the final touch, you placed your photo frames on the dresser; one of you and Benny as kids at the beach and another of your mother holding your toddler self. You weren’t sure why you kept those photos for all those years, but you were now grateful that you did.

A knock on your door suddenly caught your attention, “Willy?” you questioned when you opened the door.

“Nope, it’s me,” your cousin greeted you, “I take it you wrapped up your tour with dear old William, huh?” they were covered in dirt and reeked of something tangy but ultimately nasty.

“Yeah,” you pinched your noise, “Why do you smell so… so putrid?”

Benny sniffled his shirt, “Sorry, I’ve gotten nose blind to the smells of the farm. You might be smelling my homemade fertilizer.”

“Yeah, that’s,” you tried not to gag at the smell, “That’s probably why I’m smelling.”

“You’ll get used to it,” snorted Benny, “The whole town has,” he gestured to the pathway to the community you came to know as Pelican Town, “Speaking of the town, I thought I’d swing by and get you acquainted with the residents!”

You grimaced, “Are you sure that I have to talk to them?” They didn’t seem so welcoming.

Benny crossed their arms, “Yes, yes you do,” before offering you a hand. Hesitantly, you grasped it and allowed your cousin to drag you off to Pelican Town. It appeared to be a busy day, as groups of people wandered about the main area of town. Benny, the extrovert of you two, waved at the group closest to you, an elderly couple, “Hi Evelyn! Hi George!”

The woman, Evelyn, wore her smile like it was made of pearls, absolutely radiating positive joy, “Oh, hello, dear! It’s so nice to see you!”

The man, George, on the other hand? He seemed to be the exact opposite of his counterpart, sporting a bitter frown, “Mmpf! Ben, it’s too early for your hollering!”

“Sorry, George,” your cousin placated the grump with a bowing nod, “I want to introduce you two to my cousin, (Y/N).”

“Oh, goodness!” proclaimed Evelyn, “I remember you! You were just a munchkin the last time I saw you, oh how big you’ve gotten, my dear.”

You winced a bit at the word big, but promptly shook it off, knowing that she wasn’t referring to you by your weight but rather your overall growth. Evelyn resumed her chatter, “I used to bring homemade cookies and lemonade to you both when you would stay with Charlie for the summer. I’m so glad you’re well, sweetie.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” you gave her a small nod and an awkward smile. Meanwhile, George huffed and commented, “I remember you, too. You were quite the troublemaker, you nearly destroyed my TV set!”

Benny concealed a snort of laughter and you did the same, thinking back to the time you visited the Mullners’ house and nearly ran straight into the TV while being chased by Benny and the Mullners’ grandson, Alex. I wonder if Alex’s alright, you thought to yourself; you’ve seen him in years, surely he was off in a city somewhere doing something.

“It’s nice to meet you, uh,” you held back a playful snicker, “Again, George.”

“Well, we should be off!” your cousin diffused the situation and whisked you off to another group of townies before George could run you down with his wheelchair.

Throughout the afternoon, Benny introduced you to the various residents of Pelican Town, from the carpenter Robin and her family to the general owner Pierre and his family. Everyone in town had such a bizarre energy about them, but you found yourself most comfortable with Robin’s son Sebastian and Pierre’s daughter Abigail. They were the closest to you in age and you could relate to them as a fellow “weird” person, as you were quite a fan of the occult like Abigail and of Solarian Chronicles: The Game like Sebastian. Soon, you were introduced to Sam, another member of the “weird kids” clubs in Pelican Town, who fancied himself a musician. You spent the remainder of the day getting to know the three of them, as you all longued about the rec room of The Stardrop Saloon, owned by a kind moustached man named Gus.

“It’s really cool that you moved here, (Y/N),” mused the purple-haired girl to you, “Don’t get me wrong, your cousin is cool and all but they’re too focused on their farm work to really hang out like this with us.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you acknowledged, “Kinda glad I didn’t inherit the farm then.”

“Oh yeah, what’s with that?” Sam piped up, “Is it like an age thing that determined it?”

You unknowingly shifted your body away from the trio, “Yeah, something like that.”

“You don’t seem like the farm type, anyway,” stated Sebastian. You tensed up, “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he sunk deeper into the couch, “You seem like you don’t give a rat’s ass about the boring logistics of it all, I know from Benny that being a farmer requires you to wear too many professional hats.”

“You’re totally right about that,” you laughed, letting go out of the tension in your body, At least he didn’t call me too fat for manual labor. Trust me, I’m more than capable of doing it. you kept your thoughts to yourself.

“I’m gonna grab us some drinks!” the blond next to you exclaimed, “What does everyone want?”

“Joja Cola,” was Abigail’s order.

“Beer,” replied Sebastian.

Sam looked at you curiously, “And you?”

“Oh, uh,” you squeezed the loose ends of your tee, “Just water will be fine.”

“Okie dokie, be right back!” the musician skipped off to the bar to grab the drinks. Sam returned shortly after and passed out the drinks, having gotten himself a Joja Cola. With drink in hand, he raised it to the ceiling, “I propose a toast!”

“A toast?” you adjusted you grip on your glass of ice cold water.

“Yeah! To you moving to the valley,” elaborated Sam. Abigail smiled and held her drink up, followed by Sebastian. You did the same, all four drinks pointing at the ceiling.

“To (Y/N), may they find success in the valley!” Sam toasted.

“To (Y/N)!” Abigail followed.

“To (Y/N),” Sebastian add on.

“To me!” you exclaimed.

The four of you clinked glasses and cans together; feelings of joy and peace bubbled in your stomach, as dusk passed and the night went on. You didn’t have many friends back in your hometown and you most definitely didn’t have any in ZuZu City so this was a nice change of pace.

A new beginning, your cousin’s words crossed your mind. You smiled to yourself, A new beginning.

You found yourself back on the shore outside your cabin, nursing another cup of melatonin. Your new friends unfortunately had to depart for home sooner than expected, Sebastian and Sam having work in the morning and Abigail having to study for a class of hers. Nonetheless, you were beyond grateful to have befriended them, happy to have a chance to socialize with like minded peers. Like your first night in the valley, the ocean waves were almost hypnotic in their movement, you felt yourself grow sleepy just from watching them.

Then it happened, you noticed a flash of red, just like the night before. You rose from the ground and walked closer to the shoreline, squinting out into the distance to see if you could locate the possible buoy responsible for the flash of red. Yet, much to your confusion, there was no buoy in sight. You looked down at your cup of tea, “Do I need to switch brands?” you muttered aloud. It was Joja Doz-ja Melatonin Tea and Joja was known for their shady shortcuts, it wouldn’t be that much of a shocker if their tea contained psychedelic or hallucinogenic ingredients.

Another flash of red darted across your eyes, earning an exasperated grunt from you. You downed the rest of your tea and stomped to bed, not wanting to entertain the potential hallucination you were having. Thankfully, with the magic of Joja Doz-ja Melatonin Tea, you were out like a light and sleeping the night away.

In the midst of twilight, your supposed halluncation was perched upon a nearby rock. Long ginger hair clung its form like seaweed, as it flapped its tail against the rock.

“Come back soon,” the creature whispered into the darkness, its deep seafoam eyes twinkling like stars in the sky.

#honey crypt fics #stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #stardew elliott #sdv elliott x reader #stardew valley elliott x reader #stardew elliott x reader #merman elliott #plus sized reader #chubby reader

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grigori77 · 4 months

Text

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 95

Ia must admit, I am enjoying Marisha taking up the slack from Sam for the plugs. Oh, a perfume ad spood? Coool ... and it's ASHLEY?!!! Sweet. I mean she does have the SEXY VOICE in the bunch, so ... wow ... really going all out there, ain'tcha Ash? XD

Why is Matt turning into the announcer from The Running Man? That's ... something ...

Saucy? Yes indeed ... LOL

Laura: "Speaking of Bells Hells ... we weren't ..." XD

Yeah ... Aeor ... this is gonna be ... INTERESTING ...

I know! Fucking ASTRID!!! Total shocker! And also we got our boy, too ...

Why is Astrid suddenly FRENCH, Matthew?

A FUGITIVE? How so? I thought Essek was doing alright these days ... Occultus Thalamus? Huh?

"Beautiful purple man"? Dorian knows what's up, definitely ...

His "PARTNER"? Oh Essek ... O.O I mean that's ADORABLE ...way to go, Caleb ... :3

Oh, so there was like a proper OFFICIAL Armistice? That's pretty cool ... I mean I'm not THAT good at keeping track, but still ...

Upgrade? Hmmm ... ah, now then, Astrid, careful there ... you don't wanna mess with THIS piece of business right now ...

Group Persuasion check? Interesting ... Taliesin rolls a 2, but Ashton's "tempted to just threaten physically" ... XD

Good point ... what DID happen in Zadash?

Awww ... KITTY!!! :3

A terrible flaming bird? You mean like a phoenix?

The Genesis Ward?

"Farts are funny" ... okay ... Astrid: "I will treasure it always." Yeah ...

Prudence? Awwwwwww ...

The Gale & the Raven is a bit trite? Hmmm ...

Oh here we go ... yeah, Tusk Love, no surprise there ...

Dorian: "Oh, there's a book that's called Just the Tip right here!" XD

A "picture porn"? FEARNE CALLOWAY!!! O.O

An Exandrian Kama Sutra? Fascinating ... yeah, OF COURSE she takes it ... LOL A Nat20? Yeah, no surprise there ...

So ... she thinks they're like ... A POLYCULE? Intriguing ... in a hilariously saucy way ... whoa, HOW MUCH?!!!

Yeah ... I wonder if Essek's having flashbacks right now ...

Yussa? Really?

Supples? Okay ... OH!!! YES!!! Is Pumat still in town? Go there! GO THERE!!!

The Pentamarket! Cool!

Taliesin wants a shopping episode ... and honestly that sounds like fun ... yes ...

Ashton wants a new jacket? Yes. Definitely. Oh, new wardrobe for EVERYBODY? Double yes. Good idea.

Marisha: "What? I WANT THAT!" XD

The Emerald Curtain ... sounds like it could work ...

Ah, the new clothing smell ...

"Musicians"? Really? Oh ... memorialise FCG? Yes ... cloaks? Definitely ... oh, yes, checking through the stock sounds good ... yes, do that.

"Keith"? Hmmm ... oh yes, they are high-maintenance clients indeed ...

Artsy-fartsy? Yeah ... a slender half-giant? WOOD CARVING?!!! Oh wow ... Chetney is DEFINITELY interested ...

Damid? Oh, I like this guy already. "An audience? It's been a bit." XD Yeah, I love this guy.

Just the dye ... yeah, Laudna's very hands-on ...

"HOT BOI" ... Marisha's fan is sending me ... XD

Matching corsets? Go Imodna! :3

Fur-lined leather coveralls for Chetney ... YEAH. Definitely. Oh ... leather BRIEFS?!!! Hmmm ... so he's expecting to full-on HULK IT, apparently ...

235 gold pieces overall ... Laura INSTANTLY reacts, much as expected ... "I'm just Imogen here, I don't know what things cost."

Yeah, they don't HAVE TO roleplay all of it ... LOL

Magic shop? Oh please ... PLEASE ...

FOOD!!! Yes, FOOD!!! God idea ...

Oooh, noodles, yay! Now I'm getting hungry ...

The Invulnerable Vagrant ... OH YEAH ... here we go ...

O.O This is gonna be so much fun ...

PUMAT SOL!!! PUMAT SOL!!! PUMAT SOL!!!

Oh I have missed that voice ... Matt just slips RIGHT BACK INTO IT like he never went away ... Robbie's reaction to gettting to see this first hand is PRICELESS ... I love it ...

Yeah, the clones ... Fearne: "What is happening?" I KNOW!!! XD Ashton: "This is what the inside of my head is like all the time right now."

Oh, so they're EXACTLY like the Ludinus clone they fought before ... crazy ... I love how they're incapable of being sent into an existential crisis regarding their autonomy and originality ... it's kind of cute ...

Ah! Potions! Here we go ... and other goodies! Cool ...

A harp? That sounds very Yasha ... is it a BONE harp?

Robe of the Midnight Rune? Interesting ... oh yes, that is DEFINITELY exactly what Imogen's been looking for. GET THAT!!! Whoa ... 9500 gold pieces? Are you KIDDING ME?!!!

3500 for the armour ... ALSO ridiculously expensive ...

The harp fires arrows. Ye gods ... BOOMY arrows, too ... oh, that is a SWEET item. The arrows do THUNDER DAMAGE!!! That is SO CHOICE. Oh wow ... that whole thing just keeps getting MORE AND MORE impressive ... 8000 gold pieces? Fuck ...

Healing potions, yesh ... and a SPEEDY potion? Wow ... a potion of INVULNERABILITY?!!! Double wow ...

Dorian gives Orym ALL OF HIS MONEY to buy the armour. OH MY GOD!!! That's just adorable ... he might as well just put a ring on it right now! Seriousl O.O

Oh yeah! Sell some of the Ruidian shit! Smart!

They must have souls, surely ... they way they are, they MUST HAVE ...

NO!!! Orym, don't sell you new sword!

How to blow Pumat Sol's mind - tell them you've been to the Moon! XD ... and now Imogen's talking into his head ... oh, appealing to the unity for the greater good? Persuasion check! Oh NICE ROLL, Laura!

The Bank of Chetney ... XD

These ARE very unique down here right now ... roll good for Persuasion, Marisha ... 23? Oh yes ...

Fearne will have 69 gold left ... OF COURSE she will ... XD

Chetney COULD do with a ranged attack, yes. That is the smark move, give HIM the harp ...

So robe to Imogen, the armour to Orym and the harp to Chetney. Plus the potions, that's a SWEET haul ...

Oh yes, that's right ... the moon not being in the sky WOULD have been proof to FCG that the world is ROUND ... awww ...

Holy fuck ... the world really is just GOING TO SHIT right now, clearly ...

Awwww ... seriously, Orym, he only did it because he LOVES YOU. You could totally tap that if you want to. Which we KNOW you do.

Ashton: "Do you know Stairway to the Astral Realm?"

Oh, so that's it for the night? Okay. And time for a break ...

Oh my gods that Beason advert was complete genius ...

The Lodge of the Eclipse. Oh, it's a jazz club? Cool ...

Rooms for the night? Good. Oh, Essek has WAYS, does he? Interesting ... wow, THAT is a very good deal indeed ...

Essek does squats, apparently ... XD

Come on, Esxsek, be FUN for once. Surely it's been a while since you've done this kind of thing ...

A BURLESQUE SHOW?!!! Really? O.O

A sexy buxom half-orc? Nice ... that's definitely my style ...

Laudna, chill! Dear fucking gods ...

Yoink! Ashton grabs some of Fearne's lacy stuff ... and she lets him ... :3

Yeah, Dorian and Chetney are clearly having a blast ...

Madame Feathered-Face? Oooooh ... a sexy dwarven fan-dance? Nice ... a feathery beard? Cool ... oh WOW that is AWESOME, she can FLY with it! O.O

Ashton is showing Essek his head ... oh, this should be interesting. He knows A LOT about this particularly kind of stuff, if I remember ... oh, NOW what the fuck is he doing? Seriously? This feels ... rash ...

Dunamis ... yeah, I thought so ... needless to say he is concerned but also DEEPLY impressed ...

Ashton does the rainbow sparkle thing ... Essek: "Now you're just showing off.

Chetney's heart is lost once again ... XD

Orym is checking out Otohan's sabre ... okay ...

Ah, the Luxon Beacons ... yeah ... oh, so it looks like Ludinus and co have one or more at their disposal, then ... great ...

Ashton: "When you jump out of a window, you try not to blame the quality of the glass ..." Oof ...

Oh wow ... so they could actually use their own dunamancy to MESS THE KEY UP?!!! Yes, that sounds REALLY good ...

Awwwwwwww ... Fearne gets him talking about Caleb ... :3

Awesome ... hover, boy, HOVER ...

Much floaty foolishness ensues ... XD

The story of how Ashton first found Letters ... awwww ... oh, I am NOT alright now ...

Arts and crafts is fun ...

What is Orym going to do with this thing? Oh ... he's TRAINING with it? Whoa ... oh, he's CLAIMING IT? That is ... INTENSE ...

The Wildmother? Oh ... man ...

Marisha: "The night before San Diego ComicCon ..." XD

Matt: "Tim Burton's Island of Misfit Toys ..."

Oh shit ... this is the first time Dorian's seen LIVING Pate ... "Oooooooh ... is it too late to back out of this now?" Yeah ... oh, he is THOROUGHLY disturbed ... I am NOT surpised ... this is a TRULY SURREAL scene ... in a truly CREEPY way ...

Awww .. alone time for Orym and Fearne ... and here's Dorian ... the original trio back together ... :3

Finally Fearne leaves them alone to catch up ... oh my gods ... is THIS what we've been waiting for for so long? O.O

Time for a much-earned rest, yeah ...

Laudna does NOT like Orym with Otohan's blade ... oh fuck ... not NOW ... FUCK OFF, Delilah!

Fuck ... she KNEW Ludinus? Great ...

Seriously Laudna, DO NOT listen to this evil bitch ... oh no ... I mean it, this is SO STUPID ...

Oh shit ... is Otohan's sword SENTIENT? Is this gonna be another Grog situation?

Yeah, Orym's ridiculously aware EVEN WHEN HE'S ASLEEP ...

Darkness? REALLY?!!! Oh my gods ...

No ... sriously, Laudna, DO NOT Wither the vines ... oh fuck, she's doing it ... Wither & Bloom ... oof ... and she has to be PRECISE doing it ... oh fuck ... O.O

Yeah, of course this wakes him up ... and he's in total darkness while he's QUITE CLEARLY being fucking ATTACKED ... oh yeah, he's IMMEDIATELY ready to fight regardless of the conditions ... NOW what?

A contested Dexterity roll? Oh fuck ...

Dear fucking gods this is going SO BAD SO QUICKLY ... and now everybody else is waking up too ... perfect ...

Mage Hand? Really? Okay ... this is ALL bad decisions at this point ... and now she has the fucking sword ...

Seriously Laudna, I'm saying it AGAIN, DO NOT trust this evil c£$%!

And now they can all see ... great ... oh this looks SO BAD ...

Fuck ... is this REALLY starting to turn into a genuine conscious fight between these two right now? Oh no ... she's going to FLEE?!!! This could get even worse so quickly ...

Well that's it then ... the sword is OUT of her grasp ... now what?

Just STOP!!! Right now, please just STOP before this gets so much worse ...

Both of them are making VERY GOOD POINTS right now and I don't like where either of them are going with this ...

Ashton is doing something SO FUCKING SMART right now and I'm here for it ...

Fearne can Identify the sword? Okay, yeah, totally do that, that's really smart ...

Imogen casts Detect Thoughts on Laudna ... there is a collective intake of breath around the table and I don't blame them ...

Whispers? Oh, here we go ...

Chetney's been asleep this whole time? Wow ...

Be VERY CAREFUL Fearne ... Ishta the Summit Blade ... of NOW we get the little card? Matthew fucking Mercer!

Wake up, Chet! We need you ...

"Geometry and stuff" XD ... I love how rudimentary Fearne's understanding of Chetney's abilities is ...

Grim Psychometry ... here we go ...

Oh this is some TRULY UGLY SHIT ... this blade is HORRIBLE ... oh fuck, Zephrah? No, I don't want this ... don't do this, Matt ... seriously this thing should not be used again ...

Chetney VOMITS. Of course he does ...

Wait ... nobody else knows about his deal with Morri ... did he just OUT his deal with Morri? SERIOUSLY Orym?

Can Dorian finally break this standoff?

Oh for fuck's sake ... now it's Laudna against Imogen ... this won't end well ...

Imogen: "Let it go." Laudna: "Why?" Imogen: "Because I don't think it's YOU that wants this."

She just LEAVES? What?

And now Fearne tries to stop her ... oh boy ... now Imogen's going out after her ...

Oh fuck ... Delilah? Seriously? Tell me she's now being full-on fucking TAKEN OVER right now ... Laudna's ABSORBING the knife ... bloody hell ... this is HORRIFYING ...

Fuck! It IS her! Not good! Not fucking good! A "Delilah CAGE"? Fuck ... great ... now it's BOTH OF THEM TOGETHER ... I hate this ... seriously, did they come up with this in advance? It feels like they did and I HATE IT ...

Holy ... I LOVE you and it made that all go away? CAN their love really be strong enough for this? Suddenly I'm SO WORRIED that it's not going to be enough ...

THAT'S where he ending it? Fuck ... oh this is SO MUCH right now ... that was INTENSE ...

I'm SO SCARED for them right now ...

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breannasfluff · 1 year

Text

Multicolored Rabbits

Flufftober 3: You love me?

AO3 link

Legend and the rest of the Chain return to the house where the Ravio colors have taken over. This time, it seems like they are settling in to stay for a while—at least longer than the scant hour of last time.

Gold is in the shop, helping a customer when Legend tromps in, followed by the other heroes. “Hi, Ravio—why is your robe yellow?”

“It’s gold.” He turns back to his customer. “Apologies, sir. Now this fine wand will save you time lighting fires! It’s not so powerful that it will damage an enemy, but candles, fires, and cookware alike will benefit from its steady stream of flame!”

The man frowns at the small rod. “I guess my wife would like it.”

“Yes, yes! Think how happy she’ll be when she saves time making you dinner!”

Legend edges closer and tugs on Gold’s sleeve. “Hey. The robe. It’s different.”

Gold rolls his eyes and pushes the vet away. “I’m busy! And I like this color!” He aims a blinding smile at the customer. “This can be yours for a steal! Just 299 rupees! If you buy the ice wand as well, I’ll throw in a discount!”

“299!” The man shoots him a look. “This isn’t worth more than 50!”

“50!” Gold doesn’t have to feign his horror. “I’m an honest salesman! I need to put food on the table for my family!”

“You’re just trying to scam me!”

Legend edges around the two, waving the other heroes to follow him. “I call the bath and then I’m taking a nap. The rest of you, get settled. Ravio, mind finishing that sale and putting on something for dinner? The other heroes went to Kakariko for supplies, but they will be back later.”

Gold ignores him. “I don’t scam! I have fair prices! It’s called supply and demand, and I have the only supply.” His smile has the customer taking a step back. “Where else are you going to buy a fire wand?”

The customer finally leaves and Gold counts his rupees before carefully noting them in the book. Purple may owe him for watching the shop for the afternoon, but Lolia, it is always good to make rupees.

Purple hums as he hefts his bag of goods. Kakariko is a nice place to visit and it’s good to get out of the shop for the day. Gold will probably complain about how much he spent, but there was a good deal on carrots! Combined with the honey saved in the pantry, they can make some nice roasted carrots for dinner.

“Ravio!”

Purple fixes his smile in place on pulls on the Ravio persona—mostly himself with Gold’s wheedling. It’s good enough to make it through short conversations without arousing suspicion.

However, the people approaching are not customers. Are those…the heroes that stopped by before? The youngest waves energetically. “Mr. Rabbit! You’re Ravio, right? We met last time we stopped by!”

Does this mean Link—Legend is back? Purple hurries over. “Hello, heroes! Are you heading back to Mr. Hero’s house?”

“Yeah! We’re stopping in town to restock on supplies and then heading back.”

“Oh, what do you need? Maybe I have it?” Purple pulls open his bag and looks at them expectantly.

“Ah—” Warriors waves the offer away. “I don’t think we want to make a deal—”

“A deal!” Purple clutches the bag to his chest. “If you need something, I want to help you! It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of you!” Gold’s voice screeching about rupees echoes in his ears. “I, ah, save that for the…customers?” It comes out a question more than a statement.

Warriors gives him a squinty look but shrugs and lets it go. “Okay, we need to pick up some health and stamina potions.”

Purple dives into his bag, pulling out the bottles he’d picked up to restock their supplies. “Here you go! Now, what else do you need?”

Cyan stares at Four. The smith stares back. Their sword, almost a replica of the one Ravio found gleams from its sheath.

“You seem…different.” Four squints at him. “Weren’t you wearing a yellow robe earlier?”

Cyan blinks at him. Gold would be disappointed to hear them get the color wrong.

“Did you change?”

When will the others get back? Actually, where’s Gold? Wasn’t he in the front shop?

“Is this some sort of item? Can you…duplicate?”

Cyan would like to see the sword, but logically it makes more sense to wait for everyone before explaining. No need to do it multiple times.

“Did something curse you from talking?”

Where does the hero come up with these theories?

“Can you understand me? Do you know hylian? Sign? …words? Speaking? Anything?”

The color blinks slowly and continues to stare at the small hero. Throwing up their hands, Four stomps out of the room, muttering about weird rabbits under their breath.

Pink comes inside after finishing organizing the cellar to find strangers in their house. Two of them are hiding in the hallway, peering into the kitchen. This is strange—besides the fact that they are strangers—so Pink pauses to watch for a moment.

There’s a rhythmic thud in the kitchen where Pink left Gleam chopping vegetables.

White cape nudges wolf pelt. “Twilight. Why is Ravio in the kitchen angrily chopping a carrot?”

“I’m more concerned about the fact that he’s glowing. But sure, Sky, let’s focus on the carrot.”

“The glowing is weird but, you know, potions and stuff.”

Silence as they watch. Pink watches them. They seem nice, even if their names are odd. Purple mentioned those names before when he told them about the heroes. Maybe they’re back? Oh, Legend must be back as well!

Sky nudges Twilight again. “How long has he been done with that carrot?”

“A good couple of minutes.”

Pink edges closer so he can see past the heroes. Gleam is where he was left and, after dutifully finishing his pile of vegetables, continues to chop the air on the empty board. Well, Pink did promise to come back with more veggies and he did get caught up organizing the cellar…

“It’s creepy!” Sky hisses.

Gleam isn’t creepy! Sure he’s…odd, but he just needs a friend. And directions. Very clear directions.

Twilight’s ears flick back at a particularly loud chop. “Do you think he’ll murder us before dinner?

Well! That’s enough of that! Pink pushes past them with a sniff. “Gleam is perfectly nice.” Then he turns his attention to Gleam. “Hi, Gleam! Sorry it took me a while to get back, I got distracted in the cellar.”

He dumps his armful of supplies and vegetables on the counter. “I got some potatoes—no!” He slaps Gleam’s hand away when he reaches for them. “Remember, we need to wash them first. In water.” A pause. “Without soap.” See? Pink learns from experience! And the complaints of three colors about soapy food.

“Ravio?” comes a tentative voice behind him. It’s Sky, edging into the kitchen.

“I’m Pink!” he offers before scooping the potatoes into the sink.

“I can…see that.”

He passes a potato to Gleam and turns to smile at Sky. “No, I mean you can call me Pink. This is Gleam.”

Sky looks between the two, then turns back to Twilight. “You got anything?”

“Don’t look at me. Magical weirdness is Legend’s domain.”

Pink perks up. “Is Mr. Hero back with you?” Gently, he nudges another potato into Gleam’s hand and takes the clean one before the skin is rubbed off.

Twilight doesn’t answer, but he leans back into the hallway and bellows, “Legend! Sky is stealing your stuff!”

“No, I’m not!”

For a second, there’s silence. Then, a door slams, and the vet pounds down the hall and barrels into the room. “Don’t touch my—Ravio! Multiple Ravio’s! Din’s Tits, did you get into the cursed rings?”

Sky looks from one to the other. “You have one that does that?”

“I’ve got one that does everything. Seriously, Rav, what’s going on? And why are you…glowing?”

Before Pink can answer, Gleam turns and chucks a wet potato at Sky, who squawks and ducks. “What was that for?”

Gleam stares. “Don’t. Steal.”

“I’m not stealing! I’m not touching anything!”

Gleam points to where Sky’s feet are on the floor.

“That doesn’t count!”

Before the situation can devolve further, the front door bangs open. “Hey Ledge!” Wind shouts. “We met Ravio out shopping and brought him back with us!”

“Did you now.” Legend’s brows are scrunching in so much Pink wants to smooth it away. “Funny. Because Ravio is already here.”

“What? No, he’s right…here.” Wind trails off as Purple bumps into his back.

“Oh.”

The vet is seething as he rounds on Purple, who likely looks the most like Ravio. “Why are there clones of you? What did you do?”

“Hey now—”

Gleam throws another potato at Legend. “Don’t yell.”

“It’s my house!”

Pink pries the rest of the potatoes away from Gleam and nudges him further from the knives. Just in case.

From down the hall, comes Four’s voice. “I know you can hear me! I see your ears twitching! I heard you talk early!”

Blue squeezes past Legend to grab a glass from the cabinet, ignoring the tension in the room. Pink is in front of the sink but takes the cup with a smile and fills it.

The color takes a sip and looks around. “Looks like everyone’s here now. Four has a sword that looks identical to the one we found.”

“You do talk!” Four, for all he’s short, manages to gain inches in height. “Why were you ignoring me—wait.” He deflates and rocks back on his heels. “What do you mean about my sword?”

More heroes crowd into the doorway and everyone shuffles, trying to accommodate the extra people.

Time puts down the supplies he was carrying. “Four? What’s going on with your sword?”

“I don’t know!”

Legend points at all the colors. “Which one of you is Ravio?”

Silence.

Then, from the hallway, Gold bellows, “Did you fucking forget about me?”

Blue blinks placidly. “We’re missing Gold.”

By the time everyone is sat down and explanations are traded, Four is clutching his head and Legend is banging his on the wooden table.

“Four. This feels like your fault.”

“I’m not dealing with this again! Especially not—him!” He points at Gleam.

“Hey!” Pink moves next to the color and squeezes him in a hug. “Gleam is nice!”

Sky edges behind Twilight. “He threw a potato at me.”

“And me,” Legend says.

“Yeah? Well, he didn’t throw knives!”

The vet’s head meets wood again. “The bar is so low.” Then he glares at the colors. “Figure out how to fix this. I’m not living with multiple Ravio’s.”

Four seems truly miserable as he raises a hand. “I can probably…help with that.”

“Cyan,” Purple says, “why don’t you go talk to Four? The rest of you can help me make dinner.”

The color goes, as does the smith, even if he is hissing like a tea kettle.

Pink shifts. The tension in the room makes him itchy. Why can’t everyone get along? All he wants to do is give Legend a hug. He’s missed him! And if Pink misses him, everyone else does, too.

The heroes file back out of the room and spread through the house, but Legend stays. “What were you thinking? Cursed swords in Lorule? That’s your idea of treasure?”

Purple steps forward. “Where do you think your items came from, Mr. Hero?”

“Don’t you ever learn? You could have gotten hurt! You are—split! What if it’s not reversible?”

“That’s a risk we took when we went looking for treasure! We can’t change it!”

“Well, I wish you did! Of all the idiotic, truly goddess-blasted things to do, you had to do this while I was gone! Wait—” He steps forward and nearly snarls at Purple. “You were acting weird when we visited last.”

Purple shrinks back slightly. “Ah…the others were gone and, well…there wasn’t a good time to tell you?” It ends in a squeak.

“You lied? You lied about being a person?!” The vet is yelling now, face flushed red.

“We are people!”

Pink whimpers and burrows into his scarf. Why is everyone so angry? This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

Gleam looms behind Pink and wraps his arms around him, pulling him into an awkward hug. Pink pats his arm in thanks.

The yelling continues. Purple is at the end of his rope and Legend long ago lost his. Pink watches the back and forth, cringing with each cutting word.

“You should never have left!” Legend shouts.

“Stop it! Just stop!” Pink’s scream silences the room and they all turn to stare at him. He’s crying, but it doesn’t matter because everyone is mad and he never got a hug. “I’m sorry you h-hate us, but don’t yell at Purple!”

Legend opens his mouth, closes it, and then tries again, softer. “Hate you?”

With a nod, Pink rubs his sleeves against his eyes. “I’m sorry Mr. Hero. We can…well, Cyan will fix it.”

The vet is still stuck on the previous words. “I don’t hate you, Ravi. Any part of you. I love you, even if you're a freeloading pain. I’m just worried! And I don’t…deal with worry well.”

Pink stares. “Wait, you love us?”

“I always have. Jeez, you think I’d let you crash here otherwise?”

Purple picks up the conversation, but Pink tunes out. Legend…loves them. He loves Ravio. He loves…all of them?”

Something warm settles in his heart at the thought. He’ll need to discuss it with the Colors later—or maybe they’ll be Ravio again. Legend loves them.

Maybe he’ll get his hug after all.

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baldursmeme · 3 months

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things said while playing baldur's gate 3. part 1.

random things that have been said during many runs of baldur's gate 3, some of these are meta gaming but they are meant to be fun...general warning some of these are n.sf.w, feel free to adjust accordingly!

“I think we invented global warming!”

“How are we going to get him not to kill himself if nobody’s fucking him?”

“Check your oath!!”

“You know who would like this? Gale.”

“Yay! We’re going to get sooo cured!!”

“Close the door again!!”

“[name], sadly, there’s not any [goblin] children for you to kill.”

“If I was in a room with Elminster, Chicken Wings, and Spider Guy, and I had two bullets, I would shoot Elminster twice.”

“FLAMING SPHERE! FLAMING SPHERE! FLAMING SPHERE!”

“When we roll up on our flaming spheres…”

“I love how you could describe any Pokemon and Gale would know that Pokemon.”

“Are they drows or are they just purple?” “Oh my god, you can’t just ask someone if they’re drow!”

“He hates lesbians exclusively – never mind, he’s going for other categories of LGBT.”

“Psychological warfare on Daddy!”

“I’m not your asset! You don’t even have an ass!”

“Do you think Raphael and Yogurt explored each others’ bodies?”

“‘Most excellent,’ and my pussy throbs.”

“Deploy the twink!”

“This is not the mob! This is someone important.”

“I need to stop Gortash and have like a sexual tension about it.”

(in unison) “Yay! We got allies!”

“Why are these people allergic to the word dragon?”

“Because it’s a wyeeeeeeeerm.”

“He saved the corrosive spit? Oh, fuck you!”

“We got him to live without using our pussies at all!”

“She went from druid to whore!”

“We’re gonna have to go back…I don’t think those guys we killed were cultists.”

“The oathbreaker guy shows up like, why did you kill all those refugees?”

“Mr. Monkman, monk me a man!”

“The true dark urge…is the dark urge to be a dick.”

“He saw me missing all my hits and hitting the floor instead and it scared him. Psychological warfare!”

“That guy has gotta stop barking.”

“But you already have skulls, [Yogurt]! You know what would make a better trophy? Raphael’s dick in a tiny jar!”

“We need a mod for this. A mod that makes me good at everything. No skill required.”

“Did you just cast Hold Monster on yourself?”

“Sorry, I was too busy thinking about telling Raphael that he lasts no seconds in bed.”

“Raphael would be hot if he wasn’t such a loser.”

“I didn’t see you! Well to be honest, you were invisible.”

“He conjured a poor person!”

“I’m going to Circle of Druids blast you out of this planet.”

“[Ethel]’s kind of GILFy.”

#rp meme #bg3 rp #baldurs gate 3 rp

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welcometoteyvat · 7 months

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@apologems asked for wanderer & furina (among others) for the random characters prompt. I was gonna post all the pairs in your ask together but I love instant validation so they're getting split up lol. here, have too many words. feedback deeply appreciated!! <3

———

Furina opens her eyes to blank, vast emptiness. The cream tiled floor of the Palais Mermonia stretches on and on beneath her, the white-veined marble mirror smooth. It reflects the dismal cloudiness outside—if there even is an “outside” in this strange space. She wonders idly whether she could ask Neuvillette to cheer up a bit, to make the dreary grayness go away, or whether he would even listen to her requests like he used to. Rain seems likely.

She supposes she should walk around and find a way out of this place, even though it doesn’t seem very urgent. Nobody needs her to take care of anything now—they won’t be waiting for her return. Her footsteps echo against the marble—one, two, three—one, two, three. Is it possible to dance a waltz with just herself and the empty silence? Oh, but there’s someone a ways away, over there. Maybe they could dance with her, and it won’t be as lonely.

The figure in the distance is dressed all in blue, wearing a wide brimmed hat with strips of fabric dangling from the edge. They turn when she comes close, and their eyes meet; it’s a young man, with red eyeshadow, a bored glare, and puffy cheeks on a pretty face. It’s rather striking how he looks so sharp yet soft, swooping curves and hard angles, all at once.

“So, whose funeral is this?”

“What? Where?” A funeral? But she didn’t see a coffin…

“The dead body’s right there. Are you walking around with your eyes closed?” He sneers, and gestures carelessly to the bare floor in front of her.

“There’s… nothing there.” That catches the hat-guy off-kilter. He narrows his eyes, and his gaze is like a quick knife.

“Don’t play dumb, idiot. It’s quite obviously you, isn’t it? Look at that white vest and suit.”

“I—what?” There’s really nothing there. She’s definitely alive, too—no dead double in sight. But—what is he saying about a white vest? Unless… this is one of those fantasy children’s novels where everything is just a rabbit-hole dream? Just in case, Furina blinks a couple times. She opens her eyes, and—huh?!

“Same stupid rooster-frill tailcoat, small blue top hat, frivolous accessories, mascara eyelashes; the only thing different is the long jellyfish h—”

“Wait! I can see someone, but it’s not me. It’s a child, wearing all white with a purple veil.”

And she expects him to scoff again, because maybe she really is seeing things, maybe her acting has gone a little too far, but instead, Hat-guy blanches. He throws her another sharp, piercing glance, seems to find nothing—and then—and then, a terribly familiar smile creeps onto his face. The sight of it makes her bones ache and her eyes fill with inexplicable tears.

“Well, if that’s what you see, I suppose this is a funeral for both of us. Hah, how curious.” His voice has turned into sandpaper and tea's bitter dregs, scratchy with loathing and cynicism and absurdity. Now he's turning towards her, and in his fierce gaze she sees... her old self, lying there on the cold not-Palais floor. Her eyes stare unseeingly at nothing, and that horrible, wretched smile is frozen on her lips. Furina flinches. She wants to throw up, to pluck out her eyes, to claw at her face until it bleeds. She looks away instead. She knows that Hat-guy is watching her and is grateful he doesn't comment, and when she finally meets his eyes again, she is grateful too that his face is carefully blank. He simply offers Furina his hand and says, “Shall I do the honors?”

She nods, and takes his hand.

A fire blazes up immediately, engulfing the dead child and his purple veil. Furina watches as its clothes disappear in licks of flame, as its doll joints are exposed, then stripped away, until nothing remains besides a pile of ash, and a small, blackened kernel that might have once been a heart. She wonders what Hat-guy saw—a little Oceanid, evaporating into nothingness at the final curtain call? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. It’s past now, regardless.

Furina doesn’t know when it starts to rain. The last embers have long since blackened when she realizes that the downpour is soaking her clothes, running down her cheeks. Water drips from the edge of Hat-guy’s hat, dampening his knee-high socks. Yet he makes no move to leave, so neither does she.

They continue to stand there, long after their clothes are soaked all the way through. Two false gods, drenched, alone.

———

a/n: idk whether I handled their emotional states correctly please give feedback if ooc. this entire thing is just "it's about THE NARRATIVE PARALLELS" and i dont even know whether it's the interp I wanted. extra ending thoughts include this wouldn't happen in canon bc i think wanderer is already at a place where he's partly fixed. maybe emotional closure. idk idk. people who think more about furina and scara should give me your theses on them. and of course, if you're wondering What Even Happened In This Fic, don't worry, so am I. didn't stick the ending but that's ok

also on ao3 ig

#TIL it's palais mermonia not palais memoria #i am illiterate #apologems #anyways thanks for the ask! im probably giving u a rain check for thma + kuki and shen.he + bz #just because i dont have many thoughts rn JSKDFJKDSHGKDSLJ i can more clearly see how sh and bz would interact #but am still thinking about specifics. like i see the vision etc its just not condensed in my mind's eye #not much for thma and kuki though the thought soup is still stewing #the others will hopefully come slowly but steadily :-)#wanderer #furina #scaramouche #playing gods #new r/ship tag :)#teyvat thoughts #genshin impact #genshin wanderer #asks #extra secret authors notes here:#i was gonna make this a lot more surreal bc i really enjoyed one fic i wrote that was surrealismmaxxing and chock full of descs #but it just didn't turn out that way #this was also gonna be short but i decided to add descriptions to it and it got longer. then it got longer and longer. idk #also ignore teyvat lore idk this isn't happening in canon or in modern au it's just there. surrealism etc make up whatever logic you want #genshin fic

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hecatemoon87 · 1 year

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This story will eventually contain smut. Minors DNI.

Chapter 3

Johnny wasn't all that complicated of a man. He was loyal and generous to his friends. He loved getting on the open road with his bike and gang, and he worked hard as a trucker to bring home the bacon.

That being said, if Johnny didn't like something, and you made yourself an enemy to him, well, then only God could help you.

Johnny and Benny stood in front of a bar that wasn't too far from Big Sal's place. The only difference between this bar and Sal's was that it was on fire.

The thick black smoke billowed up into the clear blue summer sky. The red and orange flames lapped hungrily at the dry wood of the structure, emitting loud pops and cracks as the support beams caved in.

All the while, Johnny smoked a cigarette calmly while Benny looked at the destruction in front of him with awe. Johnny had done this for him.

"They ain't gonna be fucking about with Vandals now will they?" Johnny said in between puffs.

"Nah, they sure ain't," Benny agreed.

Once the men had their fill of watching their vengeance unfold, they hopped on their bikes and went their separate ways. Benny to his girl and Johnny, well, he just hit the main highway and drove.

His mind wasn't entirely on his biker club. He was thinking of Amelia and where she was right now.

It had been almost a week since their first date, and he had called her once, but she hadn't answered. He just assumed he was too much for her, but that didn't take her off his mind.

A day later, he caught her coming from her uncle's bar. She was wearing sunglasses, but he could see she had a cut on her lip.

As he approached her, she slowed down and awkwardly stood there, saying nothing.

"You okay? I haven't seen or heard from you. I guess that second date ain't gonna happen," he said, a little annoyed, but also concerned about her lip.

Still, she said nothing and looked away from him. He watched as a single tear rolled out from her sunglasses. She quickly brushed it away. "I'm...I'm sorry, I like you, but...I'm sorry," she said, her voice wavering. She tried to walk past him, but he gently took her hand and guided her to the side of the building.

"What's going on, hmm? Take those sunglasses off," he said.

She hesitantly removed her sunglasses, and he immediately saw the deep purple that surrounded her left eye. The cut on her lip was all the more pronounced.

"Who the fuck did that to you!" Johnny said, the rage immediately boiling up in his chest. He was going to tear apart the man that did this.

"It was...," she started to say, then more tears trickled down her lovely face. Johnny took her into his arms, and she burrowed her face in his chest and cried.

Stroking her hair and holding her tight, he tried his best to soothe her. After a few more moments, Amelia lifted her head and finally said, "It was my mother."

That shocked him as he was prepared to murder the person (or in his head, man) that had hurt Amelia.

"What? Your mother did this?"

Amelia nodded, turning her face so that her better side was visible. But Johnny hooked a finger under her chin and gently turned her face towards him. He paused, then ever so softly, kissed her bruise. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Why would she do this to you?"

"She overhead Uncle Sal and my dad talking about how I was doing at the bar. They just meant me handling the books. But Mama, she misunderstood and that I was working as a waitress. She got really mad and when I came home she...she took her rolling pin to...to my face," Amelia said, a sob escaping her mouth. She quickly covered her mouth, and then more tears escaped her pretty eyes.

It broke Johnny's heart to see this little lamb of a woman so distraught. "Baby girl, she hurts you often?"

"Only sometimes. Dad...he intervenes when he's around. He stopped her. I just...I can't live there anymore. I've been saving for my own apartment in the city. I'm almost there...but it still feels so far away," she said sadly.

"How much do you need?" Johnny asked.

"Um, about five hundred and fifty, that will cover my deposit and first month's rent.

"Done, I'll get you the money tonight," he said, firmly.

"Huh? No, you don't have to do that. Really," she said, shaking her head. "I mean, I'm even uncertain of what kind of relationship I want with you. Don't waste your money, John."

"Now you be quiet. I ain't wasting a dime if it means protecting you. I don't care if you never wanna see me again, I'm going to make sure you're safe, Princess."

#tom hardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy fan fic #johnny #chicago vandals #the bikeriders

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duckies27 · 4 months

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My boys lost the poll and therefore you will get hurt/comfort to mourn

Spoilers for Season 2!!

Trigger warning for PTSD attacks, death, guilt, mentions of jail time, and overall issues with recovery

It was early in the morning and Normal still hadn't stopped shaking. Taylor and him had been married for only a few months, he still didn't know how nasty these attacks could get. He was just so broken, so violently broken. No way for him to know, no way they can talk this through. Taylor was finally clean, he was finally free from all three monitors and the officers. Why drag him back down?

His eyes looked over to his sleeping husband. Taylor resting with his tail switching and horns resting against the pillow. He seemed so peaceful. So happy. Normal pushed himself off the bed and headed to the bathroom. Looking in his reflection he just saw an empty man. The only scars he was proud of were the top surgery ones. Others were just painful reminders.

Every failed attack, every bad heal, every mistake. The failure of a man, who's own father isn't proud of him unless he saves the damn world. He ruffles his hair, messy curls falling around his cheeks. "I...I look like my father, I should get a hair cut." He mumbled, going through the normal routine. Make sure all the scars were still closed, all the new nicks and scratches from his clumsy behavior weren't anything serious enough to warrant a healing spell. As he moved his hand to check his horribly scarred cheek from the flame walls that almost took him down, his eyes glanced at his wedding ring. Instead of diamond, it was made of obsidian. Taylor insisted, have a piece of hell with him. Be together always. He turned from the mirror, rubbing the stone softly. His mind went to Taylor's vows, their wedding day.

"I promise to love you through the good and the bad. Through the heavens and the hells. When we got married in space, I didn't really mean it. I mean it now. I want to be your husband, I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine."

He weakly sighed, tears pricking at his eyes. "He has to be lying, right? At least a little, no way he would take all of this-" he motioned down to himself, almost to an invisible camera. "I'm more than just a little broken, I'm a whole bag of shattered glass waiting to burst out!" He sat down and hugged himself tightly. Single tears turned into rushing waterfalls. He couldn't stop crying, everything quickly came back, all of it rushing back. Lark's angry cries after he let out that thing, code purple, Sparrow's eyes as he said he wasn't proud, Willy, Hermie's death, the battle in hell, both times falling unconscious, the last battle, years alone and struggling. Even therapy could only do so much.

Taylor shifted awake to an empty bed. A cold, empty bed. He sat up, his tail swishing. "Norm?"

No response. He sighed, getting up. Maybe he left, maybe he was in his office. Grabbing his cane, he carefully fumbled to his feet. Lately his hip had been worse, maybe because he was up and about more. It was hard to explain how strange things had become as of late. Normal and him dated for 2 years, and then he suddenly proposed. Cut a few weeks later and they were wed! Yet they were so separate. Normal was quiet the majority of the time, he kept to himself. He normally smiled most after work, but it would fade after a few hours. It has taken him this long to just get Normal to actually sleep in the same bed as him. It was as if he was afraid.

Who could blame him? After his high school crush was shot, then brought back, then disintegrated right in front of his eyes. The rest of his high school career was miserable. He hated everything, he hated the people, he hated the world. Before the reunion, he literally didn't talk to anyone. He shut off, he shut down. Then again, so did Taylor. Jailed in 3 separate dimensions isn't easy. Thankfully Nick pulled some strings and got him working instead of on house arrest, saved his life.

After a moment of thought, he carefully started moving out of the bedroom to take a quick check around the apartment. The only light on was the bathroom, and he could hear heavy sobbing on the other side. "Normal?"

The sobbing stopped for nearly a moment, almost hoping he would leave, before resuming. Once you start, it's hard to stop. Taylor carefully sat on the other side of the door. "You don't have to talk to me but I'm here. I married you for a reason, I love the good and the bad." He set his cane down, twiddling his thumbs. "The really bad. Even if I don't know it all, I know you're worth it." He gently knocked his horns on the door, a weak smile on his face. "You're real fun to cuddle, much better than a body pillow."

Soft footsteps were followed by the door swinging open. Taylor would've fallen if Normal wasn't there to catch him. The half elf was sobbing, uncontrollably so. He dropped to the ground quickly and wrapped tightly around Taylor. His face was shoved into Taylor's shoulder and just kept sobbing.

"I-i-i-i'm so b-b-b-broken, Taylor, W-w-why am I so broken?!" He squeezed the demon under him, completely lost in his pain and fear. Taylor carefully shifted so they were hugging chest to chest. They sat for a while, just letting Normal get everything out. His hands gently ran through the blonde curls of the shaking elf.

"I mean...you did almost died...I almost died." He gently cupped Normal's cheeks. "In that flame ring, pitted against each other...when I got out and I watched you go down so many times..." He sighed, kissing his forehead. "I hated it. I hated all of it. We spent 6 months fighting and hiding and putting our all into attacking and hurting. But you...you were made for love." Taylor felt tears pricking at his eyes. "And someone tore it away from you. Your father, Willy, even me...I don't know. All I know is that you didn't deserve any of it." To hide how hard he was about to start crying himself, he pulled back and held his hands nice and tight. "I want to make you feel safe again and loved and like you deserve love. Even with the scars and the burns that never fully healed. Even with the stupid mascot suit and all the issues, I want to love you and take care of you!"

All Normal could do was weakly sputter in response. At this point, his glasses were fogged up and he could barely see. He couldn't see the warm smile on Taylor's face. Warm, demonic hands reached up and gently cupped his cheeks before little horn nubs pressed against his forehead. He melted, especially on his burnt side. Anyone else who touched the scar got shouts of frustration or a guiding bolt to the hand, but Taylor always got a melty kitty. The few tears that were left were gently wiped away as the pair shared a short kiss. More of a peck that Normal quickly pulled back from.

"...too much?" Taylor quietly asked, ready to pull his hands away.

Normal shook his head, quickly wiping his eyes. "I-i-i'm tired...and thirsty. Plus, I have work in the morning..."

Taylor pouted. "No you don't, you're taking care of your disabled husband!"

That seemed to catch Norm's attention, his hand shooting to Taylor's hip. He felt around the bone, then the joint, then around the general area. His hands started to glow with magical properties, but Taylor stopped him.

"Hey now, you know that doesn't work. I just have a doctor's appointment in hell and I hate going alone." He smiled warmly. "Plus gets you out of state testing~"

For the first time since the wedding, Normal smiled his smile. The dopy one he always had after doing Teenie routines or after a spell fired how he wanted. Before everything with his father. It was crooked now thanks to his burn scars, but he looked just as happy that he used to.

"Fine, fine. I'll call out." He carefully stood up, hands out to help Taylor back to his feet. The demon was shtakey, but he managed it with his cane. "...it's worse than I thought." They slowly shuffled to the bedroom, getting water for both of them in the process.

Taylor was first down, setting his cane down. Head first into the pillow with a pained groan. Normal followed, gently sitting while chugging down a water bottle. He set it down before resting a hand on his husband's back.

"Come cuddle meeeeee" Taylor giggled, reaching to grab at Normal's hands.

With a soft giggle, Normal fully laid down and wrapped around Taylor for the first time in their married life. He finally was fully there, fully safe.

He may not be all better, but he sure as hell feels less broken with Taylor by his side.

#dungons and daddies #dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads season 2 #dndads s2 #dndads spoilers #cheerweeb #tayoak #taylor swift dndads #taylor swift (not that one)#normal swallows oak garcia #normal oak #mini fic #hurt/comfort #favorite niche/unpopular ship bribery #favorite niche/unpopular ship propaganda #i know it's over but they're so cute #they've taken over my brain

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