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prythianpages · 9 months ago

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I've Been Waiting For You | Bonus

Azriel x Reader bonus scenes based off of this one shot. These are some scenes/ideas that didn’t make it to the final cut.

warnings: just some suggestiveness with the last one (but not really, it's just the morning after you and Az spend the night together but the scene itself is just fluff.) all of these scenes are purely fluff 🤧

Thank you so much for all the love you showed this imagine! I'm so happy you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing ♡ I tried to keep all of this roughly in chronological order.

Azriel groveling after snapping at you.

Azriel found himself in a situation that required more than just words to apologize to you, especially with the look of hurt he had seen in your eyes. Determined to make amends, he decided to enlist Elain's help, knowing that you had a sweet tooth and that snickerdoodles were among your favorite treats. Elain was happy to help, agreeing to bake them for you.

Azriel carefully left the freshly baked cookies in the kitchen, accompanied by a note expressing the sincerity of his remorse.

However, the next morning took an unexpected turn when Cassian stumbled upon the kitchen with Nyx in his arms. "Cas-see-an," Cassian kept repeating to Nyx, enunciating his name so slowly in an effort to get the infant to repeat it.

Nyx babbled in response as Cassian gently set him down on the counter. He kept a hand on the baby while his other reached for a mug, missing the way Nyx's curious gaze landed on the colorful note resting atop delicious cookies.

His tiny hands grasp at the note, squeezing it in his hand before it it falls from his grip. Nyx watches as the note falls to the floor, landing under the cabinets. He lets out a small whine.

"Are you hungry?" Cassian asks, turning back to his sweet nephew and follows Nyx's gaze.

"Oh!" Cassian exclaims with a gleeful grin when he spots the plate of cookies. "Don't tell your mother."

Cassian quickly uncovers the plate, thanking the Cauldron for gifting him with a wonderful sister in law that loves to bake. He offers a cookie to Nyx while he takes a couple for himself.

Sensing your presence nearby, Azriel dispatches his shadows to investigate the kitchen. They quickly report back to him with the unfortunate news that the cookies had been devoured. He's then rushing into the kitchen himself.

"Morning, Cassian," he hears you say and then with a much lighter and excited tone, "Good morning, Nyx! Whatcha got there?"

"Morning y/n," Cassian greets back, brushing crumbs off his shirt.

Azriel's eyes narrow, gaze flickering between the empty plate and the crumbs on both Cassian's shirts and Nyx's face.

"Oh! Good morning, Az."

At the mere sound of his name, he notices the subtle tension in your body. Before Azriel can utter a word, you swiftly conjure up an excuse and make a hasty exit from the kitchen. As Azriel turns his gaze to Cassian and Nyx, he finds himself unable to muster any anger.

A sigh escapes him. His first effort to make amends had not gone as planned.

Undeterred, Azriel decides to try a different approach for his next apology. This time, he chose to give you flowers, intending to leave it somewhere for you to find. However, in his haste or maybe his distraction, he accidentally placed the flowers in a spot where someone else stumbled upon it. Amren, of all people.

"What are these, boy?" She asks sharply, eyeing the colorful arrangement warily as her hands wrap around the vase.

"Flowers."

"I know they're flowers."

"They weren't for you."

"Oh, thank the gods," Amren says in what sounds like relief.

And just as Azriel is about to take them back, his shadows sense you approaching. The Cauldron must not favor him, he thinks. He hears the sudden pause in your step as your gaze lands on him and catches the way your fingers tighten against the book in your hand. He catches a glimpse of Seers in Prythian etched across the cover.

Azriel knows you want to turn around but given it'd be absolutely obvious that you're avoiding him if you did, you find yourself frozen. When he meets your gaze, you turn your head, focusing your direction on Amren instead.

"Nice flowers, Amren."

"Thank you," Amren smirks, silver eyes flashing between you and Azriel. "Aren't they lovely?"

"Lovely as you!" You reply with a smile and then leave.

Once again, Azriel finds himself sighing deeply at another failed attempt in apologizing to you.

"Do better, boy."

"I know."

Azriel's third attempt in making amends is cornering you so he can finally talk to you. He sits in the living room, perched on the couch that directly faces the door to Rhysand's office, with a book about the history of seers similar to the one he had seen in your hands the other day. You're currently inside with Elain as you both debrief Rhysand and Feyre on your progress with Elain's powers.

Elain is the first to step out, eyes widening in surprise. "Azriel," she greets with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Reading," he replies simply, gesturing toward the book in his hands.

"About seers...?"

"Just thought I could help..."

Elain's eyes narrow at him and Azriel finds himself sinking further into the couch. Though he's apologizing because he genuinely feels remorse and wants to make things right, he can't escape the fact that Elain had chastised him for not doing so already days ago.

"You haven't apologized yet, have you?"

"I'm trying."

Elain's gaze softens and she lets out a small chuckle. "She'll be out in a couple of minutes."

Azriel feels a wave of relief as you step out alone, prompting him to rise to his feet and call your name.

"Hey, Azriel," you greet politely, and his shadows seem to dance with delight at the acknowledgment of his presence. Finally, they whisper eagerly into his ears.

"Can we talk?"

"Oh, um...," Your gaze shifts over his shoulder, seemingly fixed on something that his shadows report as nonexistent. "I think someone else is calling me. Maybe another time? I have to go!"

As you attempt to maneuver around him, Azriel subtly moves with you, blocking your path. "No one called your name," he points out softly, suppressing a smile as your eyebrows furrow. He senses you scrambling for another excuse.

"The future!" you exclaim, your eyes brightening as you tap the corner of your eye. "The future is calling me. I must go."

As you move, Azriel doesn't have it in himself to block your path again. He doesn't even have it in himself to be upset. Not when he finds your excuse amusing and your presence itself endearing.

His shadows, however, aren't as forgiving. They whisper harshly into his ears, growing impatient with each failed attempt. "Next time," he promises them quietly.

(And almost two weeks after him snapping at you, he finally succeeds in asking for your forgiveness during his fourth attempt when he brings your dinner to you in the library.)

Elain gets a vision, where she finds out you and Azriel are mates.

"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," you instruct her softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”

Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration and as her head grows quiet, the world around her seems to awaken. She can feel the power coursing through her veins as she says, “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”

“Good. Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”

“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow as she struggles to delve deeper into her power. She finds herself stuck amidst the wild sea of the unknown. Wave after wave crashes down on her, knocking her down before she could even get back up.

“Here, take my hands,” she hears you say and then she feels your hands reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”

Elain does as told, bringing herself back to that sea of unknown in her mind. This time, she's not alone and she's able to rise from the water. You're there with her, the two of you standing knee deep in the waters that are beginning to calm in your presence. The world stills around you two and Elain feels her body relax as she allows you to guide her to the center.

And suddenly, the dark sky around her begins to brighten with visions, dazzling her like the stars in your eyes do. She finds herself overwhelmed by the all the flashes and voices. She takes deep, steadying breaths like you always do and the visions begin to slow, developing before in a way she can discern.

Her eyes widen she realizes they're all of you.

In the first vision, you're sat at the breakfast table, making small conversation with Cassian and Nesta as you bite into your pancake. The next couple of visions are mundane, just you going about your daily routine.

Then, you're seated at one of the tables at the garden, basking in the sun while Elain gardens a couple of feet away.

"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"

"Many things," you answer her with a grin. "Called him his Fox boy..."

And Elain wants to linger in this vision longer, itching to know more. But as quickly as it flashed before her eyes, it's fading away and a new vision is brought forth.

Now, she stands within a resplendent ballroom nestled within the House of Wind. Fae lights adorn the ceiling, casting a celestial glow that lets her know its Starfall. Amidst the enchanting scene, you and Azriel gracefully twirl on the dance floor. Elain, intrigued, takes a step forward, captivated by the mesmerizing dance unfolding before her.

“You should stay.”

“Why?”

She watches as a wistful expression takes over your features and she has to stop herself from reaching out for you. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of Azriel's hold before the next song starts, missing the way Azriel frowns at the loss of your warmth.

“There’s no one here for me.”

There's a deep, haunting sadness to the laughter that follows your words. Elain also finds herself frowning. She didn't know you were feeling this way, or rather, going to feel this way.

Elain detects a subtle twitch in Azriel's hand from the periphery of her vision, as if he longs to reach out to you but is held back by fear. Redirecting her focus to Azriel, she observes the tender and affectionate gaze he bestows upon you, while you remain unaware, fixated on the ground. This sight tugs at Elain's heart.

It's surprising because she thought she would feel hurt by it. But she doesn't. Instead, empathy floods her, accompanied by a silent wish that you would lift your gaze and witness the profound way Azriel looks at you in this very moment.

Please, she wants to scream but even if she opens her mouth, she knows no sound will come out. Please look up!

“I’m right here.”

Elain exhales with relief as you finally meet Azriel's gaze, but the moment has passed. Azriel's expression transforms into one more guarded, his eyes now concealing what was once openly displayed. A subtle frown settles on your lips, and Elain witnesses a fleeting trace of hurt that crosses Azriel's face. Whatever you sought in that exchange, it appears you did not find it.

The scene before her blurs, shifting into another. Elain is now standing at the foyer of the river house, watching as you make your way down the steps. Suddenly, the door slams open and Azriel's chest is rising and falling as if he's been running. His eyes are wide and frantic, relaxing only when he spots you.

"It's you. All this time. It's been you."

“You know?”

"You're my mate."

A warm smile graces Azriel's lips as his gaze meets yours, and the tender expression Elain previously observed during the Starfall vision reappears on his face. She feels her heart melt at the sight because this time, you don't miss the way he's looking at you.

And just as she's about to dive into another vision into your future, she finds your connection abruptly broken. The warmth of your hands leave hers and you disappear from the depths of her mind. The sky around her darkens and though the waves begin to lap at her again, they remain calm and soothing.

"Stop!"

"I'm not hurting her!"

Elain blinks her eyes open and widen at the sight before her. You wear a pained expression on your face and there's blood trickling down your nose. Guilt courses through her, making her skin pale. She didn't know she was hurting you. Oh gods, if she knew, she wouldn't have lingered in the visions of your future. She didn't even know she could do so and judging by the look on your face, you're completely unaware of her accidental intrusion. Maybe, it's best if she didn't tell you...

"Are you okay?"

Elain doesn't have time to dwell on it as Azriel is urging her to go grab a towel while he guides you forward with a worried expression. When she returns with the towel in hand, she finds her apology dying at her throat, reluctant to disrupt the tender moment between you and Azriel.

"Like what?" She hears Azriel asked in an amused manner.

"Don't make me answer that."

At that moment, your gaze locks onto hers, and Elain assumes an air of nonchalance as she finally approaches the two of you with the towel in hand. Azriel takes it from her, carefully wiping at the blood on your face, and as Elain silently watches, she can't believe how she didn't see it before.

You and Azriel are mates and she feels nothing but pure joy for you both. She only wishes she had known sooner.

Elain confesses to you about Lucien and then asks you about Azriel.

The vibrant streets of Velaris hum with excitement as you and Elain approach one of the bustling markets. Amidst the lively atmosphere, you find yourself marveling at the enduring beauty of the city. You inhale, taking delight in the sweet blend of fresh flowers.

There's a certain lightness to Elain's steps, more so than usual today. Catching your gaze, she turns to you with a soft smile, intertwining her arm with yours and drawing you closer.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Your eyes light up involuntarily, driven by your insatiable curiosity for gossip. "Of course," you reply and though this is a secret you promise to keep, it doesn't dim your desire to hear it.

"I wrote to Lucien. I think I'm ready to give him a chance."

You stop, halting her in the process as well. A frown creases your brow as you look at her. "Are you sure?"

"I used to think mating bonds were precious," you speak again, mind drifting to Azriel briefly, before redirecting your focus back to Elain. "But I've come to realize there's an even greater beauty in choice."

"I want to give him a chance," she reassures you. "It's my choice."

"Okay then," you reply and the two of you resume in your walk toward the markets. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

Elain's gaze lingers on you, a fleeting trace of guilt flickering in her eyes so briefly that you wonder if you imagined it. Curiosity takes hold as she ventures, "What about your own happiness? Is there anyone special you fancy here?"

"I like you," you smile, completely missing the point. "I like Feyre, I like Nyx, I like--"

"No," Elain giggles beside you. "Anyone you like, like?"

"Maybe a certain somebody...," she hints, her voice trailing off and when you stare blankly at her, she adds, "Like maybe Azriel?"

At the mere mention of his name, your body tenses. You're silently hoping Elain doesn't pick up on it, but given she still has her arm wrapped around yours, you're sure she felt it. Still, you feign nonchalance.

“What about Azriel?”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s beautiful, yeah.”

"That's not what I asked," Elain laughs, wearing a knowing grin as if she's already privy to your response.

Your heart skips a beat, prompting an abrupt halt once again. At this rate, you won't reach the stall that sells your favorite pastries in time.

"The other day," you start, and she instantly understands the reference to the day she accidentally glimpsed into your future. "Did you see anything?"

"No," she responds a bit too hastily. "Did you?"

"No," you say with a shake of your head and that dull ache from that day returns. "All I saw was a dark void."

Elain asks what the Suriel had to say about Lucien.

Nestled on one of the lounge chairs in the garden, you close your eyes as you bask in the sun. Elain, rests a couple of feet away on the soft grass, as she tends to the gardens.

"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"

"Many things," you reply, opening your eyes. Your lips curve into a grin as you remember all the late nights you spent talking about said Autumn male. As emissary to the Spring Court, who often got sent on a lot of missions, the Suriel had a lot to say about him.

"Called him his fox boy...What are you itching to know?

Turning your head toward Elain, you catch the way she blushes. "I don't know," she admits sheepishly. "I was just curious."

"Did you know he told Amarantha to go back to the shit-show she'd crawl out of?" Elain's lips begin to twitch upwards, but your next words prevent the smile from fully forming. "It cost him his eye, unfortunately. "

"Lucien is good male," you speak again, swiftly shifting the topic to something lighter. "He has friends everywhere, in every court. He's the type to do anything for those he holds dear. From what I've heard, he's a pretty generous lover and given he's from Autumn Court, gods are you in for a treat. One night, the Suriel told me that he took a female to--"

"That's okay!" Elain cuts you in sharply, making you laugh.

"Autumn males have fire in their blood and I heard they fuck like it too."

"Feyre!" Elain gasps with wide eyes, her face growing as pink as the roses she just planted.

You're turning to face Feyre with a delighted smirk. "So you know too!"

Elain stands up, brushing her hands on the dress, indifferent to the dirt staining the fabric.

"Where are you going? We were just about to get to the good part." You muse.

"I'm actually going to go see him," Elain admits and before you can any anything, she adds, "I think I'll just ask him what I want to know myself."

You respond with a shrug of your shoulders and wish her good luck. "Have fun!" Feyre calls after her.

After Elain disappears from view, Feyre gracefully settles into the lounge chair next to you. Her blue eyes carefully assess you for a moment. "What else do you know about him?"

You meet her gaze, detecting an unspoken knowledge. "What else do you know?"

You feel her presence asking for entrance in your mind and you let her in, smiling when all she mentally utters is one word. A name, actually. Helion.

His father, you reply back with an all-knowing gleam in your eye. Did you know the Lady of Autumn and him are mates?

Feyre's eyes widen, and she releases a gasp. There's more isn't, there? She speaks into your mind.

Of course there is, you reply back. With a graceful wave of her hand, a complete tea set materializes along with an array of snacks upon the iron table between you.

I sense we'll be here for awhile, she muses to you, blue eyes glimmering with anticipation.

You chuckle as you start to sweeten one of the steaming cups of tea to your liking. Your attention shifts to the untouched third set on the table, and a dull ache settles in your chest as you envision the Suriel, absent yet somehow still present at the table.

As you bring your tea cup to your lips, you proceed to indulge Feyre with every bit of knowledge and gossip you possess about Helion's affair with the Lady of Autumn through your mind.

You don't realize it then, but this day, marks the beginning of what you and Feyre would later name "the Suriel fan club." As time passes on, the club grows more and more, until it becomes a monthly meeting amongst the inner circle.

The morning after you and Azriel spend the night together for the first time.

Your eyelids flutter, like delicate butterflies stirring from slumber, as the muffled whispers of morning dance in the air. You stir and turn to your side, bringing the warmth of your sheets with you. Your movement causes a chain of reaction and your entire body freezes when you feel an unfamiliar weight come to rest over your side.

It's instinct, the way your fingers grasp for the dagger you keep under your pillow. In a moment of panic, you find yourself straddling a body and pressing your dagger against what you initially thought was an intruder.

"y/n, what are you doing?"

Your eyes snap wide open and memories of the night before flood your mind. You find yourself looking down at Azriel. Your mate, Azriel. Despite the dagger pressed at his throat, he smiles lazily up at you.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaim with a heated blush, throwing the dagger onto your nightstand, relieved that you didn't knick him on accident. Judging by the way he's looking at you, you don't think he'd mind anyway.

"I'm not used to sharing my bed," you admit sheepishly, sliding off of him and wishing your bed would just swallow you whole at this point.

Taking advantage of your shift in position, Azriel turns on his side and hovers over your body, hazel eyes gleaming down at you. "You sleep with a dagger under your pillow?"

"Yes and?" You retort, a touch too defensively, eliciting laughter from him that sends an infectious warmth coursing through you. A smile tugs at your own lips. "You were listening when I told you I lived between Prythian's forests and shady Inns for many years, right?"

"Of course, I was. I listen to everything you say," Azriel responds smoothly. "It's just..." His voice trails off, and though your gaze remains fixed on his face, you notice him reaching for something in your peripheral vision.

He flashes you a grin as he pulls out his beloved dagger from under the pillow his head was resting on earlier.

"I sleep with a dagger under my pillow too."

a/n: hope you enjoyed these little scenes! I also wanted to clarify that Elain was starting to think about giving Lucien a chance, even before she found out reader and Az were mates, and it's her finding out about your bond that gives her the confirmation to move forward. She realizes that Azriel won't be alone as he has someone waiting for him (:

tagging: @stormhearty @shinyghosteclipse @justvibbinghere @mybestfriendmademe @aandweaa @loveareum @hellodarling1357

@sassybluebird, @crookedcrusadestranger, @xlosttdreamss, @peachcontour-blog, @shadowandlightt, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @darlingbravebelle, @scooobies, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @toobsessedsstuff, @kaysav608, @idkitsem, @coffeebeforewater, @rinalsworld, @elissanatok, @mischiefmanagers, @paranoidhwks, @meshellexplosionmurder, @skylling, @irismoon, @addieslibrary, @wildrosewhiskey, @aneekapaneeka, @mx13sworld, @vixemi, @strangersreadingcorner, @aristocrrat, @olive-main, @moonyscherry, @stressed-reader, @alysena2, @heartysworld, @aomi-recs, @vardda, @awritingtree, @sillysillygoose444, @spideytingley, @aria-chikage

I tried tagging everyone who had left a comment or reblog with comment/tags, just in case you were curious to read more about Az & seer reader. Idk why not all tags worked out :(

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction #ABBA x acotar

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woodenanemone · 10 months ago

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"you’re so precious to me.”

you look up at choso, who in turn was looking back at you. you didn’t realize he had been staring at you, quite invested in the meal he had just prepared for you two. looking down at his plate, you notice that it was untouched. shifting your gaze back to him, you had to physically flinch at the pure, unadulterated adoration in his tired gaze. looking back down bashfully, you pushed your food around on your plate, unable to help the smile that bloomed on your face.

before you could react, choso had reached over the small table, soft hand wiping at your cheek faintly. you look over to see him withdrawing, a tender look in his eyes. “did I have some food on my cheek?” you questioned, wiping the other side of your face, observing your hand for any crumbs.

“no.”

you look back at him in slight surprise. “oh.” was all you could lamely say. it was hard having such an affectionate boyfriend at times; he was constantly outperforming you in terms of love. you know a relationship was supposed to be anything but a competition, but he couldn’t even speak straight. its literal pure poetry falling from the mans mouth. how could you measure up to that?

“i love you, you know.”

you look down at your plate intensely as you say this, unable to look him in the eyes. even his mere eye contact felt deeper than your simple words of, “i love you”. you see him rise from his seat out of your peripheral, but you still stubbornly stared down at your warm plate of food, which you’re sure he poured some of his literal soul and spirit into (even food outdid you…). feeling a warm hand guide your face, you look up to see that familiar soft gaze on you once again, filling you with the type of warmth only felt by a million suns.

he cupped both of your cheeks, bending down to look at you closer. you didn’t even have to say anything, his eyes already telling you that your love is enough. more than he needed, than he deserved. leaning forward, his warm lips placed themselves between your brows, longer than he needed to. he pulled back, only by a hair, to whisper his professions.

“i want to say you have my heart, but you are my heart.” he kisses your face once more, a little further down from the last kiss.

“there’s nothing and nobody else that I need.” another kiss, further down again.

“i surrender my everything to you.” another kiss, landing on your cheek.

“do you know how long I’ve prayed, begged, for your lips?” your other cheek.

“you own me. you, and you alone. you own me.”

you at first thought choso to be a quiet man, shy even. a person unskilled with his words. and yet… you’ve never seen anyone more assured, confident, and certain than him when he spoke to you like this. to know that the one thing this man was undisputable about was his adoration for you… well, it spoke to your soul in a way no store bought flowers ever could.

he punctuates the absolutely devastating confession with one last glance to your lips. you notice his eyebrows are furrowed, his voice strained. you swear these confessions hurt him somehow.

he plants his lips on yours with a sweet inhale, slowly breaking away just to reconnect his mouth to your own, over and over. the kiss was languid, syrupy, and filled to the brim with adoration. he pulled away slowly, his nose still brushing against yours.

"i love you.”

yeah. he was better at this than you.

i need to stop and go study omg

#choso #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x reader fluff #choso x reader #choso x reader fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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creantzy · 5 months ago

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Defying God - a parallel between Fyolai and Stavrovensky

The Demons brainrot is taking over, and you know what happens when I acquire a new interest: my brain WILL find a way to connect it to my other interests, whether I like it or not!! And this is essentially what it's about xD I've come here to present a parallel I found between Fyolai (Fyodor & Nikolai from BSD) and Stavrovensky (Verkhovensky & Stavrogin from "Demons" by Dostoevsky). Before I start I want to clarify a few things:

• I don't think these two pairings are similar, I just love picking up any crumbs of connections I can find between my interests, even if it'd count as reaching.

• This interpretation (in either character's case) is in no way "the only true way of looking at it". It's merely one interpretation out of many and I chose to focus on just a few aspects out of the many others there are to explore in these complex characters.

• Feel free to add onto or disagree with anything I say! I'm interested in your thoughts :D

WARNING: There will be spoilers for Bungou Stray Dogs and Demons.

The reason Nikolai wants to kill Fyodor is because he feels affection for him. Emotions are a prison to him, and he basically seeks the opposite of what his emotions make him want to do. Thus, in the face of affection, which makes you want to be closer and wish the best for your friend, he does the opposite and decides to kill said friend, going directly against his feelings in an attempt to prove free will. But here I want to focus more on the "You want to defy God in order to lose sight of yourself" part, specifically the bit about God.

One part of my interpretation is that Nikolai associates God with control. If there is a God who controls all, how can there be a free will? He wants to go against Him and His creations (the human mind, morality, etc.) to prove that it's possible. But God is very abstract - the idea of God is influential but varies depending on cultures, etc. For this point, I'll use the example of the biblical God, or, more specifically, some attributes commonly assigned to the idea of God:

• omnipotence (all-powerful)

• omnipresence (all-present)

• omniscience (all-knowing)

What I am leading up to is the fact that these traits can, in one way or another, be applied to Fyodor. Fyodor's character represents everything Nikolai wants to defy. Nikolai hates control; he wants to fight the idea of God and prove the possibility of complete independence. Fyodor (though not in a "direct" way) could be seen as a symbol for God. He knows everything, he is always present (metaphorically and sometimes literally, the way he spawns sometimes I swear-), and he seems to control everything. Only few people actually see him, but he pulls the strings behind the scenes, and his power is felt everywhere. For Nikolai, to kill Fyodor is not just a protest against his feelings of affection, but can also be a symbolic act of defying "God", of killing "God", by killing Fyodor.

This is supposed to be very symbolic and not taken literally. I feel the need to repeat this because I personally dislike the notion of Fyodor as a literal God (and disagree with the idea of him having a God-complex), so this is merely about the God-like traits he possesses, like a "substitute" for the idea of God, and how it interacts with Nikolai's philosophy. (I've also exaggerated some points for the sake of simplification - for example, I don't actually believe Fyodor is in control of absolutely everything, etc.)

Moving onto Demons:

Pyotr Verkhovensky grew up religious and (assuming based on Stepan's description) with a fear of God.

Now he's an atheist and very anti-religious. He plans to overthrow society, and destroying religion + everything it preaches is part of that plan. But interestingly enough, he picks not himself as the official future "ruler", but someone else: Nikolai Stavrogin. He chooses Stavrogin to be the role of the leader in Verkhovensky's ideal society. But not exactly the "leader" in the traditional sense, because he wouldn't necessarily give Stavrogin all the power. He would simply use him as a "pawn" (for lack of a better word) while himself pulling the strings behind said society. With that, Verkhovensky puts someone else above himself, in a God-like position, but he wants to do it while still keeping full control over Stavrogin. By doing so, he would overcome his childhood fear of God because instead of being controlled by God, *he* will control God.

(Same case here, not the literal God, but the character who he assigns God-like traits to.)

I am undecided (with both Nikolai's and Verkhovensky's character) whether this could be read as a solely subconscious intention or if it would make sense as a conscious one as well. Given that both have a different "main" goal (Nikolai focuses on emotions and Verkhovensky on the revolution) I lean more towards thinking it's subconscious (if present at all - like I said, just interpretations!)

It doesn't help that Verkhovensky describes his vision of Stavrogin's leadership as "hidden": Everyone believes in him and his power, but only very few people are said to actually have laid their eyes upon him. When I first read this part, I was honestly reminded of Big Brother from Orwell's 1984, but eventually realised that similar things can be said about God as well.

While these are parallels, they don't come without differences. Nikolai needs Fyodor dead, Verkhovensky needs Stavrogin alive. Nikolai wants to kill Fyodor for a sense of freedom, Verkhovensky wants to keep Stavrogin for a sense of control. Yet both symbolic goals are bound to fail:

Fyodor turns out to be unkillable, and Stavrogin ends up dead.

At the end, "God" stays untouchable.

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bekolxeram · 6 months ago

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I'm late to the party I know, but I need to learn how to make gifs first. I actually find the Bucktommy dinner scene a bit awkward, but not because they "lack chemistry" or the "flirting is problematic". It's not supposed to be just a cute bonus scene, it's engineered to stuff as much information as possible into mere 55 seconds. Here is my read on it:

The good old always at the hospital joke, probably just Tommy trying to lighten the mood after such a hectic day for the 118, but mainly a set up for the next part.

Buck does not see the humor in it, he seems upset.

Tommy has apparently gotten to know Buck enough at the stage to immediately clock it, and under all the dark humor and sarcasm, he does actually care about Buck's feelings.

The scene of Buck and Eddie in the hospital room with Bobby ends up on the cutting room floor, we've only got that one shot of teary eyed Buck when he breaks the news to Eddie at his house, so this is the first time in the episode Buck gets to express his fear of losing Bobby, his father figure.

And here we are, controversial moment number 1. There isn't much context attached to this line, so viewers interpret it differently. I'm in the minority camp that thinks Tommy is being serious here, Lou's delivery makes it seem like Tommy says this out of concern. I believe it's a call back to this line from the medal ceremony:

Here Buck is talking about Phillip the same way Tommy and Chimney (possibly Hen too) talk about Gerrard: like he's dead. Tommy is probably wondering if Phillip is another Gerrard situation, and he invites Buck to talk about it if he wishes to.

Buck gives a humorous but one word answer, so Tommy gets that he doesn't want to get too deep into it.

From this line on, it's a set up for the Gerrard reign of terror in S8. Tommy reiterates the jealousy he mentioned in 7x04, that he wants to become a part of the 118 family, which he only had a little taste of before he left to become a pilot.

Tommy backstory crumb. Buck and Phillip at least see each other at family functions, Tommy doesn't have a relationship with his dad at all. Judging by the medal ceremony, he doesn't seem to have any family left.

It confirms Gerrard as the anti-Christ anti-Bobby. Buck becomes the person he is because of Bobby, while Tommy behaved the way he did in the 3 begin episodes because of Gerrard. It acknowledges Tommy's toxic ways back in the days, but as we can see by the time Bobby became captain of the 118, Tommy was already on friendly terms with Chimney and Hen, we might have a chance to see the transformation in between next season. I've heard that season 7 is supposed to be a soft relaunch of the entire series, so maybe Gerrard is a good plot device to make new viewers understand the positive influence Bobby has on the firefam.

Classic deadpan humor from Tommy, Buck gets the message that he wants to keep the conversation lighthearted.

Now Buck has the power to decide which direction he's leading the conversation into, and he gives us controversial moment number 2, he brings up daddy issues and makes it horny. Look at his smirky face, he's definitely not trying to have a serious chat about father complex. He's the one who starts flirting, not Tommy, and it shows us unlike the nervous fumbling at the beginning of their relationship, Buck is now comfortable enough to initiate flirting.

Tommy can't say no to that face, so he flirts back, but it can also be interpreted as him being in denial of his obvious daddy issues. More conflict and angst for S8?

More flirting. Boy's got rizz towards all genders. He basically admits he might have "daddy issues" in a sexual connotation.

Now comes THE controversial moment of the scene, if not the episode. I've seen people online bashing Tommy for "making it sexual" (Buck did), "interrupting a meaningful conversation to satisfy his daddy kink" (no one is actually talking about any kink), or even "exploiting Buck's trauma to put him in an inferior role in a dom/sub relationship" (What? That's not what d/s is about).

I raise you the point that the word "daddy" is no longer some kind of kink exclusive lingo. This word has entered the popular zeitgeist the last couple years, and now it basically just means a sexy older man. I bet the daddy kink thing doesn't even cross the mind of most of the GA, they just take it as Tommy hoping Buck find this older man sexy. I think we might have collectively read too many smutty fanfics, that's why we all immediately jumped to the very extreme of the kinkiness spectrum when it comes to this scene.

Conclusion, the dialog in this scene may not sound natural, but that's not the point. This scene is in fact, an infodump. Kudos to the actors for making it cute.

#still suck at making gifs #just my own two cents #bucktommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #tevan #kinley

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folie-a-deux · 5 months ago

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Boston Hannibal Reunion 2024

Photo © krisandcats via Instagram

Oh I can't even begin to tell how overwhelmed I am with the number of interesting questions asked in this panel. I was only halfway through the video and my interest was already beyond satiated. No mere crumbs today, we're being fed really well.

Some great topics (and my personal favorites) that were brought up in the panel were:

Hannibal's time travel equations in Digestivo

Will about 'falling in love with Hannibal'

Hannibal Extended Universe being brought up (like if any of Mads & Hugh's other characters could do a cameo in Hannibal, and if one of their characters could meet the other's character)

If they could eat a painting, which one would it be

What would Hannibal say to Molly if he met her

How Will would have described Hannibal to Molly

On Hannibal and Will's habits and life on the run

About the time skip in TWOTL

How Will's mind palace looks like and a bonus question of how Mads & Hugh's personal mind palaces would look like

I really enjoyed this panel! ❤️

#hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #fan expo #boston fan expo #fan expo boston #hannibal reunion #hannibal panel #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannigram #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #murder husbands #hannibal series #fannibals #hannibal extended universe #madancy

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cassyxox · 1 year ago

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𝒞𝒽ℯ𝓇𝓇𝓎.

𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝘢 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗒 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 ..𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤．

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬！, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘳！,

(𝘳！𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨/𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨), 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝟭𝟴+𝗺𝗱𝗻𝗶.

u could say u were in a very glum mood. getting all dressed up for your girlfriend to not even notice—or compliment you.

but instead here she was stuffing her face with her third—no fourth chocolate muffin..you had made them for her..well for you both.

You glanced over at her. watching the way the crumbs fell from her mouth. so messy. and she wouldn’t stop groaning.

𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱?…

just as she was reading ur mind. mumbling out a small “god..” before finishing off the rest of the tasty batter.

“babe I swear..you always make the best deserts f’me—never fuckin’ miss.” she gritted. licking the chocolate off her lips. 𝗼𝗵.

offering her a small smile u nodded—“mhm..”

you couldn’t help but stare at the way her tongue flattened against her lips.

𝗴𝗼𝗱 𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿—

“babe?..” her voice pulling u out of the nasty daydream.

“yeah el?—sorry.” u spoke. hoping she didn’t sense the way u were shifting around on the small cloth.

she gazed a look down at ur wrists..watching as they hugged the cloth so tight. she could see the grass peeking through.

she brought her hand to ur thigh. slowly rubbing up and down. “what’s wrong babe?..”

u sighed lowly. not meeting her eyes.

“uhh—nothin’..”

𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻𝘁 𝗯𝘂𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁.

“(y/n)..” she squeezed ur thigh ever so gently.

“nothing el—it’s 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜..” u frowned.

how were u supposed to explain she was getting u all needy and tense just by eating a muffin.

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮.

“yea ok.” she huffed. letting go of ur thigh. reaching for the picnic basket.

“fine you don’t wanna tell me cool—I’ll just eat another muffin.”

u tensed. watching as she grabbed her fifth one?! 𝙟𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙨.

“I hate you..” u quietly muttered—well u thought u did.

next thing u know u heard a plate rumble and 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙣 fumble onto the ground. a very angry ellie moving her way into ur space—𝙤𝙝.

“what’d u say?” her voice was low. 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙮. her eyes a dark fade. glaring into ur closed ones.

“huh?—open ur eyes and look at me” your eyes widened. only because her voice sounded so stern?—no.

“see?..wasn’t so hard was it?” u gulped. shaking ur head. ur panties felt too tight..𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙚𝙧.

her ragged hands reached ur face gripping ur cheeks tightly.

“now u wanna tell me why ur acting like a baby—hm?..”

“I’m not..” u mutter. playing with the bracelet on ur wrist.

𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚’𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛𝙘.

“not what?” 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙗𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜.

“not being a baby..your one to talk tho—you’ve been teasing me since we got here ellie.” u admitted.

u watched as a little smirk came upon her face.

pushing her hands away. “it’s not funny at all..”

𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙪𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪. 𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠. 𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙖𝙥. 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙬𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙪 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙬. 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

she was in mere thought before she spoke. a small shrug appearing.

“not my fault u can’t control yourself around me when i eat.” u froze.

𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙚? 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙪𝙩..

“ellie it’s literally all ur fault…my panties are so wet just from watching you eat a—fuckin’ muffin..”

she tried to hold in her laughter from ur weird confession. attempting to get ahold of herself. 𝙬𝙝𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙛𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙮?

“..you done?” u paused waiting on her response. she glanced at you again. not even two seconds later a startled laughter filled the air.

“ugh—el s’not that funny!…seriously” u whined. pushing her back onto the soft cloth. she had grabbed ur arms pulling u with her.

letting out a small “𝙢𝙥𝙝..” landing right on her chest.—𝙤𝙝.

pushing urself up. u were met with a cheesy faced ellie. her hands came up to grip the back of ur leg under ur shorts.

“well isn’t this a sight..” she squeezed the fat. 𝙨𝙤 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙤𝙢. “—mhm..” u softly groan.

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.

Ellie was just teasing u even more. she didn’t move an inch. except for her 𝙨𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙮 hand. reaching up under ur shorts to feel the outline of ur cunt—through ur 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙨.

“ellie..” u whined. gaining her attention. “hm?” her fingers now rested on ur behind.

“want more please” u pleaded with her. the way she wasn’t even touching on ur cunt anymore. but she still had u 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 was insane.

𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩.

“yea?..my baby wants s’more?” she spoke. ghosting her fingers 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 over ur outlined cunt.

u nodded letting out a small—“𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚.“

she leaned up. ur weight being pushed into her lower lap. “lay back for me—and take ur panties off.”

u swiftly turned over getting ready to pull ur shorts down—“ellie what if somebody see’s us?” she smirked. pulling ur shorts the rest of the way down ur ankles. “let them.”

𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠.

she had u on ur 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 now. thighs parted as her fingers were abusing ur cunt so good. u had 𝙘𝙪𝙢 2 times already..𝙜𝙤𝙨𝙝.

pulling her fingers out she had took notice of ur wet slickness glistening with a little 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚— glow. “such a pretty sight—your so pretty.” she rubbed at ur folds wetting them up even more. “god just…look at it—it’s so greedy for me..look.” she gripped ur neck with her unattended hand. pulling u up to make u watch as she rubbed her fingers through ur folds. letting out a low chuckle as her fingers accidentally slipped back inside u from how wet you were. “so wet I love it..”

u were a moaning mess. and a nervous wreck. 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙖𝙠𝙚! anybody could walk by seeing the image of Ellie’s hand 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 between ur upper thighs. 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“wish I had my strap on me..𝙝𝙢 ur so lucky.” she growled. “I need to actually tear this perfect cunt apart” u whimpered from her words. gripping her wrist. “el—please put them back in me..”

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙣𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙗𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙪 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨..𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚.

“keep ur eyes on me—wanna see when I..” she paused with a falter. as she buried her middle and ring finger back inside you.

“oh my—el!” u were humping into her hand. the pace of her fingers adding to ur despair.

“yea?..feels s’good?” she hummed. ur warm walls making a mess around her. 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙙 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚.

“god—𝙢𝙥𝙝 ‘think i can feel ur little cunt breaking my fingers..”

𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙪 𝙨𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙯𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧. 𝙗𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨.

“she’s so greedy” u heard her chuckle. “wish I could put a baby in you—I swear to god.” a low whine left ur lips. 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪..𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧.

“els—𝙖𝙝𝙝𝙝” she pushed her hand down on ur stomach. “yea..would be right here.” she mentioned with a slight push of ur belly. the feeling made u clench roughly around her.

“please..𝙢𝙢..-wanna have ur baby s’bad..” crying out. u squeezed ur thighs around ellie’s wrist.

u were so into the feeling not even noticing ellie humping the fuckin’ ground. her jeans getting covered in the moss from the dark grass. her boxers were damp. so wet with her slick.

“yea gonna get you pregnant babe..”

“wanna 𝙘𝙪𝙢 inside you so bad..” she kept muttering lowly. voicing her desperation to 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙙 you.

she was close. u were close.

“ellie it’s coming again—𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠—𝙣𝙜𝙝..”

𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙖 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖.

she reached over into the basket full of snacks. pulling out the box of cherries from earlier.

“don’t let go yet..” she warned. pulling her fingers out. a yearning ache filled you.

“ellie what are you—“ “-open ur mouth.”

you were confused. why does she have a cherry in her hand? 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙, opening ur mouth.

“chew it you better not swallow it.”

“but els..” she narrowed her brows. causing u to silence urself. “good girl.” she put the cherry inside ur mouth. her fingers rested on ur tongue for a couple seconds. u bit down on the tasty fruit. the juice swallowed down by your throat.

u let out a soft hum at the taste.

“yummy right?” u looked up at ellie. her gaze connected to ur lips. watching the way they moved as u chewed on the sweet cherry.

you nodded. Ellie’s hands spread ur legs open once more. being met with ur inner thighs covered in slick..you looked away. dripping in arousal.

“so sweet baby..I bet it tastes better than you..” she muttered bringing her thumb to rub at ur cunt softly. watching as she leaned into you.

“I wanna kiss.” she gripped the back of ur neck. squeezing rather roughly. her other hand sliding her way down 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣. u gasped. giving ellie a view of the half bitten cherry. “thought u swallowed it—𝙝𝙖𝙖..” u shook ur head. “wanna be a good girl..”

“yea?” “mhm.”

in mere seconds her lips were on ur’s. it felt like heaven. the taste of ellie and the cherry inside ur mouth made ur eyes roll back. and the way ellie’s fingers were 𝙣𝙤𝙬 —digging in ur cunt.

𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣.

u relished in the kiss. not wanting ellie to pull away but she did. “fuck—𝙪𝙝𝙝𝙝..that is sweet..might be sweeter than you.” she bit out. licking at her lower lip.

u shook ur head. the chewy fruit still nessled behind ur lips.

“oh?..you don’t think so?—“ “-I’m sweeter..” u mumbled. desperately trying to catch the rhythm of ellie’s fingers but she was going so 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝. 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚.

“hm—well maybe we should put it to the test..bend over for me.”

#cassy’s nav #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie williams imagine #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams x yn #ellie x yn #ellie x fem reader #lesbian

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hypnagogics · 8 months ago

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how soon is now? | part one

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

teasers: one. two. series masterlist. next part here!!

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: listen, i know this timeline is kind of ridiculous, but i’ve organized it all best as i can! this is the expanded story based on those first little blurbs introducing the au (reads fine on its own though), and this part specifically was originally going to be one huge fic, but i've ultimately decided to split it up and drop the first part now, because i feel like it ends in a convenient enough space where i can make a separation not so jarring. so that means this will have a direct continuation (how soon is now? 2 ? lol this is so stupid-), and that will be posted soon enough once i finish it! but yes that means after so much waiting, it's finally here for y’all. i literally thought up this silly idea right before i passed out on new years, and never expected y’all to love it so much…but i keep my promises, so here. also love the smiths and felt the title sort of fit. i feel like not too much happens but eh anyway, thank you for waiting, thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

♧:4.6k word count

◇:suggestive but not explicit - horny descriptions and tension, however no smut (for now?….BUT DON'T HOLD ME TO THAT.) no descriptions of reader’s physical appearance, no use of “y/n”, slow-burn construction and loooooads of pining, a lot of build up but stay with me, attempts at occasional foreshadowing, smau elements(text messages lmao), savage starlight is a plot point lol, hallwaycrush!ellie is sort of a mix of loser/modern/university au/dorky-ish ellie I DON'T EVEN KNOW. abby is your bestie, girl what else do i put here- this is just kinda plot, plot, and more plot progression about the whole ordeal, and me indulging my obsession with modern!ellie. (lmk if there's anything to be added!)

“Abbyyyyyyyyyy.”

You rolled around your lifelong best friend’s bed, babbling her ear off while she studied away at her desk, or tried to at least. This situation has been a daily occurrence for weeks at this point.

Laying on your stomach facing away from her, you could hear her scoff in annoyance. “What?” “Please give me some advice..I don't know what I'm even supposed to do. She's driving me up the wall." This crush was the sole thing occupying your poor mind, so naturally, you had to drown your bestie with your troubles as well. That's what friends do. Abby spun around on her chair to face you, with a clearly fed up expression on her face, and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“Well I don’t fucking know man, I’ve already given you my best advice, and that's either introduce yourself, or suffer.” She said coolly. You sat up and groaned. Wasn't there an easier way? One that didn't involve actually taking initiative and doing something? Maybe, hypothetically, you ace a test, and the professor announces it in front of everyone as he emotionally congratulates his star student, and she bounds over, beaming. Then tearfully confesses her love and admiration for you- hold on, where the fuck is this going?

“Oh come on, you know I can’t do that..” You gulped a burning bundle of anxiety down as you replayed the scenarios with your obsession for the thousandth time that day, the mere crumbs you were forced to fixate on until you saw her next, the first sighting that started this whole fiasco, and shook your head to clear it and listen to what your best friend had to say. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, slamming her textbook shut and making her way over to sit next to you.

“Listen babe, I love you, but you really gotta get ahold of yourself, alright?” She spoke sternly, looking you straight in the eyes to make sure you understood and absorbed every last word she said. “Listen, here's what you're gonna do. when you pass her in the hall, smile, it's simple but it's a classic, okay? And then you listen to the lecturer as normal, right? I have no idea what you nerds do in astrophysics, but that's besides my point. Make sure to pay attention and not stare only at her like a stalker or something, I cannot stress enough how normal you gotta be. But here's where it gets good, you still with me?”

You're listening to her for sure, and nod vigorously. Crystal clear. She continues, “Okay you said you sit as far as possible from her? Sheesh, why'd you do that? When the class is over I want you to go over to her, and introduce yourself. Catch her on her way out, tap her on the shoulder if you're feeling bold. Ask for some of her contact details, play it cool. Just don't shit yourself, got it? All you gotta do."

Abby finishes her speech, smirking and looking smug. She's positive she got through to you this time. On the surface you're totally chill, confident even, ready to snatch this ethereal being for yourself, however underneath all that you knew you didn't have an ounce of the courage that was required for this seemingly impossible task.

Breathing deeply to calm yourself and try to take in her helpful words as best as possible, you give Abby a hug. “Thank you Abs, really. I'll do my best. Oh, but what if I freak out and start stuttering- or what if I trip and fall on her…I can't do this what the hell.” Swarmed with worry, you start doubting yourself yet again. Burying your face in your palms, you feel two strong hands on either side of your upper arms and you look back at Abby, who's really not playing around anymore.

She was so serious about this it almost scared you. Either she cared about you more than anything, or she wanted to hear the end of these pathetic, lovestruck rambles. You prayed it was the former.

“Suck it up. You can do this. You've had crushes before haven't you? This should be a piece of cake c’mon, I believe in you. Make sure to keep me updated every step of the way! I need to hear every last detail.” She lightens up at the end and releases you from her grip once she sees you've relaxed.

Unsurprisingly, your best friend always knew what to say to snap you out of your spirals. Maybe most would disagree with her methods, say she was being rough, but they worked for you. Heart rate returning to a normal pace, you reply genuinely.

“Okay, okay I got this. Yeah, it'll be fine.” She was getting through to you, this time you felt sure of it. “Good, good. Now will you let me finish this stupid assignment? Then we can watch something or do whatever." Abby chatted as she got up and sat back at her desk, resuming her studious endeavor as she left you with your thoughts.

Immediately you heard her mutter, “All this and you don't even know her goddamn name…good grief.” For the sake of preserving the peace you chose to graciously ignore that one. She said she wanted some quiet, didn't she?

Drifting away into a sea of daydreams, your thoughts inevitably returned to being clouded by this cryptic figure. It was like she'd cast a love spell on you. Did she even know who you were? Or did she shoot everyone those insufferably charming looks of hers. Was she even aware of how fucking cool she was?

Dressed in that deliciously grungy style, you yearned to know what floated behind her greener-than-grass eyes. Her hair looked so smooth and soft, the wispy auburnette strands framing her refined features, intriguing fern tattoo decorating her lean forearm…. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as a portrait of her materialized in your mind's eye. Nestling into the comfortable atmosphere of your best friend's room, you sunk deeper into your thoughts.

Like Abby had mentioned, it certainly wasn't as if you've never had crushes before, you've certainly had your fair share of them, like most people. But that was a sort of flaky, surface level interest, whether it be for their looks, their little quirks, or ways they treated you. Maybe it has been a while since you'd had a proper crush, but you couldn't recall a time when the infatuation, the pure limerence, had hit you this hard before. You almost felt helpless, just besotted by her.

You simply needed to act on this. Right then and there you steeled yourself, and decided you were going to follow Abby's advice after all, and go after this hallway crush. Worst comes to worst, she turns you down, you get over it eventually, bla bla end of story. It wasn't going to be too complicated, right?

You and Abby had stayed up all night, dusk till dawn, gossiping about things other than your hallway crush, shocking, and you were greatly regretting that decision the very moment it was time to gather your books and get to class.

You really did not feel like stunning everyone around you with a gorgeous outfit today, you were just trying to make it through the day in one piece to be honest with yourself.

With a pounding headache you threw on some mismatched sweats, and ran out the door to be on time. Your bag felt unreasonably heavy as you made your way down your apartment stairs, and you cursed your past self for choosing a building without an elevator. Sure, exercise is healthy, but it can’t be when you’re feeling like a zombie, and wish for nothing more than a good, long nap.

Luckily the lecture hall was a comfortable distance away from your place, not far enough to make it a pain, but enough so you could get a much needed breath of fresh air. The tiredness had pushed all plans of action you and Abby had discussed the previous night to the back of your head, and you weren't thinking of your crush at all. At least for now.

Walking slowly with your gaze pointed downward, you eventually made it to the hall. Completely dazed and zoned out, you made a mental note to never pull an all nighter again, gross, who’s idea was that- thump.

Out of nowhere you're rudely jolted from your silent sulking by colliding with something, or someone? It takes a moment to register what happened, and you quickly look up from staring at the ground to sort the situation out. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry..”

Profusely apologizing while simultaneously being smacked across the face with the realization of who this was. Her. Your words trail off as you’re suddenly winded, and you feel your blood run cold. You’re transfixed by the intense eye contact, and it feels like time has stopped. Goodness, this is dramatic.

In the time it takes for you to briefly die and come back to life, the young woman has lowered her chunky headphones so they rest around her neck, Morissey’s vocals faintly floating out of them, and is looking at your stunned state with an indiscernible sneer playing on her face. Was this actually happening? Holy shit you and Abby did not discuss this scenario…you weren’t looking where you were going and had collided with an actual Earth angel. Great.

Still gawking at her like an absolute buffoon, akin to a deer in headlights, she breaks the tension first, with a smooth voice that you would obey virtually any command for.

“Nah, you’re good.” And a wink. Your heart skipped a beat, or four, when you witnessed her wink at you. Did you imagine it? Was she being suave on purpose or did she have an eyelash in her eye…Was your life a literal rom-com or what?

“Um..” Your mouth opens and closes in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, but your brain is much too fried to do so because, well, you had just made physical contact with the literal girl of your dreams. And gods did she smell good…while you’re unable to tear your eyes away from hers, she keeps talking as if nothing happened.

“I think the prof had an emergency or fuckin’, I dunno.” She stops to gesture around the two of you at the crowd that had formed in front of the auditorium’s double doors with elegant, ring adorned fingers..holy fuck you needed those inside you right fucking now- WHAT.

Briskly shoving those thoughts down to the deepest depths of your subconscious back to where they belong, you turned your attention back to her, and put on a brave front. Hyper aware of how searing hot your face felt, her pretty self didn't show a hint of caring that you were making a fool of yourself. They say that any situation is always worse in your head than it was in actuality, well you hoped so.

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Clearing your throat you managed a sentence back, hooray. You were doing this. Good job. Although, of course, before the gorgeous nymph before you had a chance to respond with her own assumptions, a substitute lecturer you had never seen before pushes his way through the crowd and unlocks the door while people file in, separating you from her. You felt like Rose, viciously torn away from Jack from Titanic, what a cruel, cruel world this was.

And once again you didn't get to ask her name. Re-slinging her bag with one arm, she looks back at you one final time and throws you a “cya around.” Before disappearing into the auditorium with everyone else. You meekly nod at her and force a lopsided smile, before leaning against the wall to steady yourself after that fiasco in the now empty hallway.

Wasting virtually not a moment of time, you pulled your phone out and began furiously texting Abby with a recount of the events at a speed faster than the speed of light.

Once that excruciatingly torturous class was over, you applauded yourself for containing the stares in her direction and keeping your eyes fixated on the professor. Whether you actually retained any information, now that was a different story. Picking up your bags and laptop, you stay behind for a moment as everyone else files out, no need to crowd and suffocate amongst the other students, and you had nowhere to be except catch up on your favorite shows and relax all by yourself.

Filing out the auditorium with everyone else, you see a familiar face pass by you, and vaguely hear Abby’s voice in your head urging you to seize the moment. Now’s your chance, go! And so you gather every little bit of strength you possess to do just that.

After a couple deep breaths you jog up to her. “Uh, hey.” She turns around and gives you a warm smile, making your legs instantly turn to jelly. You subtly checked her out and took in her outfit, another bulky jacket and lightly distressed jeans. Fingers studded with layered silver rings, and those big ole headphones seemed to be magnetically attached to her, she always had them on her. Note to self: ask for some music recommendations.

She was even hotter up close…with a beautiful galaxy of freckles scattered across her fair skin, you wanted to place a kiss on every single of them. “I, um, never caught your name.” “It's Ellie.” She sticks out her hand for a handshake and you accepted it, you finally had a name to the face you've been pining over so intensely for so long. Abby was going to lose it once you tell her about this. You steady your voice and hide the glee that was likely evident from this interaction going so smoothly, and introduce yourself to her as well.

After some time of idle chit chat and standing there, neither one of you knowing really what to say, Ellie pipes up, facepalming, tsking, and furrowing her brows. “Oh yeah, I don’t mean to spring this on you outta nowhere, but would you wanna study sometime?” She flushes a dusty pink, “I don't know anyone else taking this course and am having kind of a hard time with it...when I chose it, I expected it to be more about space and the planets, and less about numbers and math, my head hurts.”

Her demeanor was making you feel rather comfortable with her, even though the two of you had just formally met a few minutes prior. “I would love to, yeah!” Maybe you were being a little too enthusiastic, but at this point you were operating on pure instinct and not thinking critically of what was coming out of your mouth. “I actually don't have any plans now, or today at all, so if you want to, we can get a head start before the next class?” Well that just slipped out. Go you, blurting things out.

You had no idea why you'd said that because your place was an absolute mess, clothes strewn everywhere, trash can still full, you'd been too preoccupied with your studies, and well her, to do much about it. To your horror, Ellie exclaims, “Hey, that's perfect! I don't have anything to do right now either, and it would be good to act on it while it's still fresh in my mind, y’know?” Her face morphs into an adorable toothy grin as she taps on her skull comically, you were becoming more obsessed by the second, if that was even possible.

Every little sliver of her personality you got to see under the stoic one you had assumed she had just grasped at your heartstrings. You smiled back at her so hard you almost pulled a muscle in your cheeks, “Awesome! Follow me, then, my dorm isn't far.”

The walk there was mostly fine as the two of you made it to your place, Ellie occasionally making comments about how she hates the class even though she adores outer space and learning about it on her own time, and you were nodding and acting as if you're listening, agreeing with her robotically while she rambled away and you daydreamed about what her lush lips would feel like on yours. You wondered if she was gentle with it, or if she’d kiss you hungrily, devour you like her very last meal….gulp.

Leading her to your place was an automatic task, not much navigation needed, and when the journey was done you had to legitimately stop short for a moment in an attempt to soothe the pounding in your chest.

The crush that has plagued your mind for ages, who you've just met formally today, was about to be in your room. The two of you were about to be alone. That was totally fine, yeah, she can't be a murderer…..right?

“You good?” She asked sweetly, why did she have to be so nice, “Those stairs were killer, I totally get it, phew.” “Oh for sure, gets me every time.” Covering up your panic smoothly, you unlocked the door and went inside with her. When she walked inside, Ellie took a glance around your room and set herself down at the edge of your bed, immediately making herself comfortable, while you still lingered in the doorway, awkwardly swaying and staring at her, unsure of what to do with yourself.

Suddenly you had completely forgotten why she was here in the first place. “No way, you read Savage Starlight too???” She spotted the figurine on your desk and snatched it up in her hands to inspect it thoroughly, with a childlike wonder in her eyes. “Wow, this one was a limited edition and it sold out in like an hour, I'm so jealous you got this!! How much you want for it, I'm serious.” She was so excited, and you couldn't believe it. Savage Starlight has always been one of your favorite comics ever, you've loved it since you were a young teen, and now this seemingly perfect human before you, who you're hopelessly obsessed with says she loves it too? Could she get any more flawless, is all you could wonder.

Her happiness because of this little thing you two bonded over was infectious, and some of your nerves slowly began to go away. Grinning genuinely, you sheepishly said, “I've never met anyone else who likes it, that story has helped me through lots of phases in my life, and Daniela was my gay awakening.” Ellie gaped at you for a beat, making you almost doubt revealing that information.

“No. Fuckin’. Way. Mine too! Her suit was just- damn. And those action scenes in the third volume had my thirteen year old self’s brain just mush for, I don't even know for how long. This is crazy, I can already see we’re gonna get along so well.”

You wanted to talk to her about everything and anything forever, and her glee made you want to squish her, but there was unfortunately work to be done first. “There’s so much we have to discuss, but we gotta get some studying done first if we wanna make it out of this course alive.”

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over the sprawled out textbooks and messy notes, as you drew the graphs and talked to her about the concepts she was struggling with. Your desk was so small and you only had one chair, and you were the one using it, so Ellie was forced to hover over you to see all you were doing.

Focusing solely on the subject before you was proving to be more difficult as studying time went by, because you were a little too aware of the way she had caged you in against the desk to watch, her oversized shirt grazing your upper back. You gripped your pen ever so tightly to minimize any trembling, and kept a steady voice as best you could while explaining it all.

She was so, so close, the tension in the tiny room was palpable, she didn't seem to notice your nervous tremors or the proximity she’d created, and the low murmurs of, “ohhh, mhm, yeah,” as you embarrassingly stammered over your explanations made you flushed and to be frank, needy. You could feel her warmth radiating off of her, could faintly hear her breathing just above you. You didn't dare move a muscle. Was she feeling this too?

At this point you swore the delicious gravelly vibrations from her voice this close to you would be plenty enough to make you cream your pants. The air in the enclosed space was getting hotter and thicker by every passing moment, it took everything you had to keep yourself from losing your mind right now. If you moved back a petty few inches, you’d be pressed flush with her front. What would that be like, you wondered. Oh, no. Your throat felt drier than the desert when you swallowed, the thought of that making you weak.

Since your focus on the work was lapsing, you were beginning to make some little mistakes and blunders, compelling her to take the pen right from your hand and fix them herself. “No, no, this one’s supposed to be like this instead, see? Then you're able to get the right answer which is…” She stretches over you further, you nearly whined, someone save you, and grabs the textbook to review the solution. “Like this, yeah, I was right. Honest mistake though, don’t worry about it.”

You nod your head and make a pathetic murmur of approval, ignoring the fiery tingles spreading all the way up your arm when her hand bumps yours to return the writing utensil, and the blistering coil of want forming in your stomach. This all had to be deliberate, right? She couldn't lack that much spatial awareness, could she? Well, it wasn’t that you minded, she could get as close as she damn wanted to, you'd let her throw you around like a ragdoll even- you were just afraid your heart was going to give out if she kept it up. “Could you show me this work you guys did? Of course the one day I'm late, the prof talks about something new and I miss it.”

What feels like an eternity later, you hear her groan above you and she returns to her earlier spot on your bed. You can finally breathe properly. Glancing at the clock, your own headache begins to set in. Crap it was late, how time flies.

“We’ve been studying for so long, it’s getting late.” “Shit, you’re right, I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome. Sorry about that, and hey, thanks for this. I understand it all a lot better now, see you tomorrow.”

She stands up abruptly and ushers herself out of your door in a flash, to which you clumsily stand up, knock your chair over, and hastily run after her, not wanting her to go just yet. “Wait, Ellie!” “What's up, did I forget something?”

She pats her pockets and looks at you with concern. Round puppy dog eyes, and lips in a miniscule pout, so cute. You were in front of her now, but did not process what you actually wanted to say. Just ran after her like the smitten nincompoop you are. Upon feeling your face go hot, you look at the ground to mutter, “Uh- nothing. See you later.” Realistically, what were you planning on saying, or doing?

After stumbling over your words you two finally part ways and you slump down against your door, missing her presence already. You simultaneously wanted to jump around or open your bedside table drawer to release the energy you'd accumulated, and wanted to fall into the deepest sleep of your life to recuperate from the experience. This was just, a lot. You wanted to scream and screech like there's no tomorrow, but did not want to deal with noise complaints from the others living on your floor. Gosh she was so close, she shares your niche interest, your hands touched, albeit accidentally, lo and behold you were in love with her.

Maybe it was early to call it that, but you were going to plan out your future together. Preferably a quaint, peaceful farmhouse, the one you two lovebirds renovated together exactly how you envisioned, where you could ogle her doing the farmwork. Ugh. Cook all her favorite meals, make sweet, sweet love under the moonlight. Take strolls through the flower gardens you two planted, receive her curated bouquets as gifts, you two are going to have such a tender, domestic life.

You had to mull it over some more, and didn’t dare wish to forget how close she was to you, you were still buzzing from her essence. You were pointlessly pacing around your room now, unable to stop looping the study session's events in your head. The simplicity, the eroticism of the encounter. One-sided or not, you had yet to find out more about her, the impatience was going to take over. The day almost seemed too good to be true, but for now you had to force yourself to relax and think about something other than her. Time to browse Pinterest with striking kitchen ideas for your beautiful future.

What were you going to say to her the next time you see her? You were eager to know how, or if at all, this new friendship was going to progress. Part of you was dying of impatience, but the rest of you wanted to take it all as slow as possible, savoring every little moment and making the most of it.

You sighed, this was going to be a long, long, year.

lovely taggies: @amiorca @mostlyhornyandsad @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @ellslvr @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms

.......really hoping this doesn't flop because it isn't smutty, yall wanted more fics that are plot soooo

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nyoomfruits · 1 month ago

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osctober day two

prompt: curse pairing: charles/oscar word count: 1,2k

“What do you mean ‘I turned Lando into a bat’,” George says, slightly incredulous.

They’re in a meeting room right next to the FIA press conference room, a tiny little thing with a table and a few chairs and not much else, offering mostly exactly what they need right now. Privacy.

“I didn’t…” Oscar starts, sights, runs a hand through his hair. On the table, a tiny little bat – Lando – putters around. Oscar’s been carrying him around in the front pocket of his hoodie for most of the morning and it’s clear he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of his little bat feet yet. “It’s a curse.”

“A curse,” Alex repeats, voice flat.

“You cursed your teammate?” George asks, voice becoming slightly more incredulous.

Oscar rubs at his eyes. None of this is going in any way smoothly. But he guesses that’s what he gets for, well. Cursing his teammate. “It was an accident.”

George opens his mouth again, but Charles cuts him off. “Magic can be tricky like that,” he says, crouching down to hand Lando the bat a crumb of the protein bar he’d been eating. “Athur once turned one of his mechanics into a frog.”

Oscar had been there for that. The whole thing had been chaos but it had been resolved very quickly when the curse seemed to have a run time of merely 20 minutes and the frog turned back into a mechanic. A very disgruntled mechanic demanding a raise, but a mechanic nonetheless.

This curse, unfortunately, is not that simple.

“Okay so, now what? What’s the solution here?” George asks, eyeing Lando the bat a little wearily as he happily munches on his protein bar crumb.

Alex leans close to the table, examines Lando, who chirps happily and tries to toddle over but faceplants in the process. “True love’s kiss?” Alex asks.

“Yeah,” Oscar says. “Or well. Sort of.”

George sucks in a breath through his teeth. “That’s a tricky one. I mean, who do you ask?”

“Carlos,” Charles and Oscar say at the exact same time.

“But I tried that and it didn’t work,” Oscar says.

“So not true love’s kiss?” George asks.

“No, definitely true love’s kiss,” Oscar says, wishing he was anywhere but here right now.

“Wait a minute, you made Carlos kiss a bat? For nothing?” Alex asks, sounding way too delighted about this. Oscar suddenly remembers him and Carlos will be teammates next year. He pulls a face and vows to apologize for sharing this information with Alex. Then he remembers it’s Carlos and vows to not instead.

“Ah, and so this is why you came to us,” George says, puffing out his chest. “To help you find Lando’s actual true love.”

“I didn’t come to you,” Oscar says. “You followed me in here. And I already told you who Lando’s true love is.”

“You asked me here,” Charles says.

“Wait so why is Charles here and not… Oh,” Alex says, and his face does. A thing.

Oscar wants the ground to swallow him whole.

“Yeah,” Oscar says.

“What-“ Charles starts, but then his eyes widen.

George frowns. “Why do I feel like you all know what’s going on aside from me.”

“Because we all know what’s going on aside from you,” Alex says, and then, to ram the final nail home in Oscar’s coffin. “Lando’s not the one who’s supposed to kiss his true love. Oscar is.”

“Ooooh,” George says. “Wait. So why are we here?”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Oscar says, through clenched teeth. Charles is still staring at him, but he’s not. There’s no anger or anything. Just. Wonder, maybe. Fascination. It’s. Well. It could be worse.

George opens his mouth again. Makes it worse. “But you asked- Oh. Oh, you think Charles,” he gestures between them. “You think Charles is your true love?” He says it in a certain way. In a ‘everyone thinks Charles is their true love but no one actually believes it, kind of way’.

Oscar shrugs, trying to aim for casual, but his shoulders are tense and his mouth is tight. “It’s. He might be,” he says, purposefully not looking at Charles. Not wanting to see the rejection in his eyes.

“Yeah, but-“ George says, but Alex, mercifully, saves him, by pushing George out of the room with a, “You know what, you two test out that theory and we’ll catch you back later, bye!”

The door closes, cutting off George’s protesting and leaving Oscar and Charles blissfully alone.

Well, Oscar, Charles, and Lando, who has taken to trying to fly. He only makes it a few centimeters of the table each time before crashing down again.

“So,” Charles says.

“I know,” Oscar says, scrubbing a hand down his face. God, this whole day has been so fucking embarrassing. From letting his magic slip enough that he turned his teammate into a bat, to forcing Carlos Sainz to kiss said bat only for nothing to happen, to having his crush revealed to his crush in the most humiliating way possible. “I know there’s a chance you’re not- I mean, there’s probably now way you-“ He can’t even find himself to say it. It hurts. He knows there’s no way Charles is his true love. But like. He has to try, right? For Lando.

“We’ll never know until we try,” Charles says, and when Oscar looks up, he’s smiling softly, looking way too chill about the entire thing.

“I.. Are you sure?” Oscar asks. It feels. Too easy maybe.

“Come here,” Charles says instead, beckoning Oscar forward. Oscar goes, willingly, until they’re face to face, only centimeters apart. Charles is still smiling softly, and he carefully reaches up to put his hand on Oscar’s cheek. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes out, not entirely sure this is a thing that’s actually really happening. Maybe he cursed himself, too. Sleeping Beauty style. Maybe this is all just a weird dream he’s having.

“Good,” Charles says, and then leans forward and presses his lips, ever so gently, against Oscar’s.

At first, nothing happens. Nothing but the thudding of Oscar’s heart in his chest, the sweatiness of his palms, the hypnotizing feeling of Charles’s lips pressed against his.

Then, everything happens all at once. There’s a loud bang and Lando the bat, who had only just successfully managed to fly roughly a meter above the table, turns back into Lando the human, and comes crashing down onto the table with such a force that it actually breaks in half, sending Lando and the table tumbling to the floor. Charles and Oscar spring apar to opposite ends of the room as the door flings back open, Alex and George spill back inside, having clearly listened in on everything happening, and they’re followed by even more staff and drivers that were alerted by the noise.

Oscar watches it happen a little wearily, watches as Alex fishes Lando out of the pieces of table, totally in tact and chattering loudly about his adventures as a bat, seemingly not hard feelings. Watches as people set about clearing up the bits of broken table, seeing what they can salvage.

Watches, as Charles’s eyes meet his, over all of the ruckus.

And suddenly, everything slows, and it’s just Charles, and his bright sparkling eyes, and his soft smile and Oscar takes a deep breath and thinks True Love.

#this might be my fave one so far #(is on day two)#choscar #osctober 2024 #drabble

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theemporium · 1 year ago

Note

! Luke Hughes falling for a girl in college who isn’t the stereotypical hockey girlfriend, (and all his friends and family are stunned at the fact he chose her).

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

When Luke had casually mentioned to his brothers over the phone that he had been talking to a girl from one of his classes, everybody already had an idea on what she would be like.

Brother confidentiality was thrown out the window in seconds and the Hughes family had been conspiring ever since. They took the crumbs Luke gave them over the weeks and they conjured up an image of you before they had even met you. But they knew Luke, they knew what his type was like, so they really hadn’t considered you being all that different from past girlfriends and flings.

It was around the summer break when Luke finally got to introduce you to his family.

The lakehouse was just going to be the Hughes family for two weeks before the others joined and, after a few months of being official, Luke wanted to share you with his family. And they seemed just as eager to meet the girl who captured the youngest Hughes’ heart.

To say they were shocked when they met you was an understatement. Not in a bad way, not at all. But simply for the fact you were nothing like they expected at all.

“So, honey, how did you two meet?” Ellen had asked during the first initial meeting, the whole family sat in the living room to officially meet you for the first time.

“Was it a hockey game?” Jack guessed, a teasing smile on his lips. “Luke always had a habit of trying to impress girls during games.”

“Oh, uh, I actually wasn’t a fan of hockey when we met,” you admitted with a sheepish smile. “To be honest, it took Luke a month before he convinced me to come to a game. And even now, I’m not totally convinced I understand how it works.”

That was the first surprise.

The second happened mere hours later when you insisted on cooking dinner for the family. You wanted to thank them for their generosity of letting you stay, and you wanted to show them you weren’t just planning to stay around like a guest for the whole time—even if you technically were.

And it seemed like the longer you spent with the Hughes family, the more they were caught by surprise by the girl their son had brought home. But they loved it, they loved you and just how happy you made Luke.

“She’s a great girl,” Ellen said to her youngest son as they stood side by side in the kitchen, cutting up some fruit before they took it out to the patio where the rest of you were sitting.

Luke lifted his head to look out the window, a fond smile on his lips as he watched you animatedly talk away to his dad. He knew Jim had been eager to try and teach you the rules of hockey (something Luke had tried multiple times to do) and despite the fact he was sure you were still as clueless as you were before, he couldn’t help but feel something in his chest tighten at the fact you were trying so much with his family.

“Yeah, she’s amazing,” he murmured as a faint pink tint spread across his cheeks. “I think she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Ma.”

Ellen’s gaze softened. “You seem really happy with her.”

“It’s kinda nice knowing she likes me for me and not all the hockey stuff, ya know?” He said with a shrug. “She likes Luke, not ‘that other Hughes brother that wants to make it big’.”

Ellen smiled. “That’s what you deserve, honey.”

When they made their way outside, it seemed almost automatic for Luke to pull you off your seat, plopping down on the chair before bringing you down on his lap. You didn’t even stop your conversation with Jim, just briefly smiling down at the boy before you continued talking away to his father.

You weren’t what the Hughes family expected, but they cannot say they are anything but happy you were a part of Luke’s life.

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months ago

Note

Could you please pleasepleaseplease p l e a s e continue the halfa cass post? I'm dying for some more of it, it's SO GOOD

The first thing Cass notices about the Fentons is how utterly silly they are. She had been expecting a group of far more regal people, especially with the castle they lived in and being protected by Phantom.

She still doesn't really understand what's going on, but she can piece together that Phantom is in charge. The people who had stopped to stare at her all whispered about the King, and she could tell that a few of them gained helpless hope by the mere sight of her.

If they were truly trapped here, then her appearance meant there was a chance of escaping.

But were they trapped because of Phantom? Dan mentioned the Fae's costumes of tricking humans into signing slavery contracts with a feast. Had Phantom done the same?

"Maddie!" Dan yells at the top of his lungs, floating towards the draw bridge. "Maddie, I think you want to look at this!"

"What is it, sweetie?" A woman calls back, quickly followed by an explosion in the left tower. Cass stiffens as the window of the tower is flung open, and a woman in an overalls sticks out her head. Behind her, black smoke rises. "I was just making headway in the latest Fenton Escaper!"

"Really? How's that going?"

"It exploded! There is nothing left!" She beams, pulling her oversized goggles off her head. They leave a black outline around her eyes. .

Dan's body language doesn't show his surprise at her failure. In fact he seems oddly amused. It must be a common thing."I supposed that's good?"

"Oh, it's wonderful! Jake is going to be so happy that it reacted quickly to the new element!" The woman chirps. "He's out with Danny, gathering some more supplies for our people."

"They went hunting without me?"

"You know you're grounded, young man."

Wait, was this woman Dan's mother? Could the dead have parents? Or was it more of an adoption relationship?

"Yeah, Yeah, I know. Anyway, Maddie, I wanted to introduce you to the new arrival-"

"You brought a girl home!" Maddie cuts him off, flinging herself out the window. Cass would have rushed to her aid were it not for her apparent control as she spun into a landing. "Hello there! I'm Maddie Fenton! Dan's mother from another timeline, welcome to the family!"

Cass could tell she was going for a hug before the hug arrived, but she was still somewhat surprised by how forward Maddie was. Oddly friendly in a way no one in Gotham dared to be. Unless they were crazy like Harely. She can only blink as the woman wraps her up in an embrace, her muscles belying her small frame.

A fighter. A rather skilled one at that.

"I was so worried Dan would never find a partner!"

"Maddie! She's not my girlfriend!" Dan hisses, "She's a kid!"

"I'm twenty-one" Cass corrects

"A baby," Dan insists.

"Oh, that's a shame. She's gorgeous- from what I can see with the mask. The grandchildren would have been beautiful." Maddie sighs, letting her go. Then, it seems the woman noticed her features for the first time because she looked startled. "Are you a living human?"

"Worst. She's a halfa," Dan responds. Maddie's upper body goes rigid, and Cass can see thousands of emotions go through her—shock, denial, awe, wonder, glee, despair—to name a few—before she settles on one.

Glee.

"Jazz! Dani! Come here!" She screams, and Cass only has a few seconds to step away from Maddie's sudden craze before another glowing blur speeds towards them.

It's a younger version of Dan but female. She stops just short of ramming into Dan with a giggle. "Made you flinch!"

"You did not."

"Did, too." The girl, nineteen maybe, insists but twists to Maddie while speaking. It doesn't seem like she thinks about whether she is correct. Cass wondered if she should say that Dan really did not flinch. Besides his hair swaying slightly by the gust of wind she created, he hadn't moved from his crossed-arm position. "Who's this?"

"A new Halfa!" Maddie cheers.

The girl's friendly demeanor crumbles into horror. "What?"

"I know- isn't this exciting?"

"No, Mom, it means she died." Yet another voice sighs. "What did we say about our science?"

"Not to let it overpower my morals and to be tactful of other feelings." Maddie quotes with an eye roll, though Cass can tell she's not bothered by the reminder. Strutting from the castle draw bridge, the only one that uses it is a beautiful woman clad in a purple sleeveless dress.

She moves with the confidence and elegance Cass had expected of a Queen. It's when she stands next to Maddie that it becomes clear they are mother and daughter- almost all her features are a copy of Maddie. "Hello there. I'm Jazz Fenton. I heard you've been through a horrible ordeal. I'm very sorry for your loss of life."

Cass blinks at her, then shrugs. She isn't sure if she is grateful that Damian's ninja mask is still across her face, keeping her amusement hidden.

Jazz smiles even wider. "Welcome to Phantom's Keep. We welcome you inside."

Hmmm, well, no, Cass did not like how she said that. Sounded a little too Fae-like for her taste.

Jazz isn't aware of her unease as she gestures to the castle. "We have some questions on how you arrived. See, Dan and I thought you had died and placed you in the sector for new ghosts. Dan was supposed to greet you and get you settled. But your new status changes everything."

Was Jazz....Phantom?

If so, Cass needed to be careful how she continued interacting with the woman. She didn't want to get stuck here for seven years, either. She had a family she was going to get back to.

__________________________________________________________

"Where is Cass? She hasn't checked in for days," Bruce asks his children, looking over everyone's logs. Her last entry was twenty-four days ago, a short "Investigating Amity Park—pending field report" blinking on his screen.

"I'll ask Raven." Damian volunteered. "She should be able to give more insight into Cass' mission."

"Thank you, son."

Bruce hoped the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach was just untreated paranoia like his children liked to claim and not that something had happened to his daughter. He never liked it when his gut feelings were right.

They were never a good reason.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Cass the Halfa #Part 3 #Time moves oddly in the Ghost zone #Cass meets the Fentons and went “Jazz seems the most sane”#Dan and Dani are siblings

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comfortless · 10 months ago

Text

Deep Water

nix! König x fem! reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. no.. intentional harm done to reader but there are sporadic mentions of murder (drowning), König is kind of a creep here do you guys forgive me (say yes), implied sex; dubcon everything. König is wearing a fishing net rather than the usual hood because. it made sense to me sorry.

notes: yet again, i have found that i can not manage to write anything except for silly fantasy nonsense… bear with me this will pass (it will not). if you’re uncertain of what a nix is, i recommend skimming over this (or tl;dr— a shapeshifting water spirit).

You’ve always been told to beware of the river, especially on nights like this. When the singing starts up you were to run, as far and as fast as your feet could carry you. It would be the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, as well as the last. Whatever beast lies in wait along the silt of the riverbed luring people in with its haunting song isn’t kind. The drowned bodies resurfacing bloated and paled are enough for the townsfolk to assume that assuredly, a monster lies in wait someplace within the glassy water.

For all of the fear, town myths were just that— myths.

As always, there’s no singing when you seat yourself on smooth, mossy stones by the river’s bank. The moon hangs low, casting its brilliant reflection on calm, dark water. The air is alive with the buzzing of cicadas clinging to the trees at your back and night birds calling out to the wind. Nothing is amiss; it’s only peaceful, and that’s why despite the warnings, you often find yourself here when the temperature is favorable.

There are nights when the river isn’t calm, and currents are the most reliable reasoning for the deaths from past summers. The water is full of large rocks with sharp corners, teeming with plants that could so easily snare an ankle, and when the water is frothing and cruel it’s no surprise that one could be thrashed to unconsciousness if they weren’t careful.

You didn’t come here to take your chances on swimming, anyhow.

If anything, it’s a mere reprieve from the bustle of the town. No one wanders here any more since the myths gained traction, passed from mouth to listening ears time and time again, leaving this place entirely untouched. Occasionally the obnoxious teenager would cross your path on the walk here, declaring loudly to their friends about how they supposedly saw some slimy beast, eyes like moonbeams and scales like razors lying on the bank.

During your little adventures here, you often carry a snack with you, but not for yourself. Tonight, it’s just a small package of vanilla flavored cookies. In truth, they were awful— dry and near flavorless, but you suspect your friend here wouldn’t mind too terribly much, and if it got them out of your pantry without wasting it was a win for the both of you.

When the large dorsal fin crests over the water mere meters from the bank, you gratuitously crush the treats in a closed fist and toss the crumbs into the water. Time and time again, you’ve fed the large animal, watching as it thrashes about just below the surface before disappearing back into its depths. You’ve never gotten a good look at it, either, but you imagine it must stretch out past your height or further; some sort of gar or sturgeon.

Just as many times before, it glides further in, fin entirely out of sight now. The only evidence of it ever appearing at all were the small waves rippling in its wake. All is quieted once more as you embrace the placid bliss, readying your small flashlight and losing yourself into the book perched in your lap.

The next night, you’re greeted by a large snake basking over the rock you typically sat upon. It lies still, coiled into itself as it regards you, forked tongue flicking out for several moments before it simply slithers off, hiding itself away beneath the moss and stone.

“Best to leave you alone, huh?,” you ask to it’s retreating tail, feeling a bit silly for speaking to the reptile at all. It doesn’t respond, of course, nor does it bother to come out of hiding either.

You opt to seat yourself on the hill overlooking the water instead.

You find that after a day occupied by tedious tasks, there truly was no greater place to abandon your woes than here. Everything was peaceful; wild yet simplistic. Even with all of the death that seemed to haunt this place, you never feared the thought of ghosts. You’ve even entertained your imagination a time or two, that if you ever did meet one, you would only ask it not to disturb the wildlife you have grown so fond.

There’s a freedom and a mystery to places like this, places without the foot traffic of other people. It brings with it a sense of whimsy, especially when you glance towards the water and see the surface reflecting every twinkling star above.

The fish doesn’t appear, even as you listen to the water in wait, your head tilted as you lie back on soft grass to watch for ripples, for the swell of a large fin moving beneath. Nothing. You read your book as the night progresses, nearly completing it entirely before you make your way back home.

Weeks pass by like this— work, river, home and repeat. Occasionally it’s the same large snake that greets you when you wander there, more often it’s the large fish circling about waiting for crumbs of whatever treat you choose to bring. The bank and the small hill overlooking it have become a separate home to you, one where you can be away with the fairies, talking to your animal friends that never seem to stick around for long.

When the weather grows warmer, you even dare to take a swim.

You’re stood on the slick stones of the bank, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. It’s not proper swimming attire, but you reason that you’re not at the beach, not a soul is around, and it doesn’t really matter at all that you might look a bit silly. The prospect of swimming along that behemoth below is a tad terrifying, but you wouldn’t dare to wander too far in. Maybe the fish would even be intelligent enough to not attempt to eat you after you’ve been so kind to it.

It’s hot, and with a sticky layer of sweat glossing your skin, your worries seem minuscule in light of an easy way of cooling off. You toe at the calm water for a moment, testing its temperature before willing yourself to take a step forward, then another before you seat yourself in the vibrant expanse of darkened blue. Here, you realize, is the best place to stargaze, too; they shimmer all around you, within reach as you tap at the surface of water, watching it undulate beneath the pressure of your fingertips.

You could reach the moon, too, if you swam further out. A few meters from the bank and you would be directly beneath its reflection, bathed in that ethereal glow.

You watch for your friend for a time, trying to prioritize your wariness over your whimsy. When the fish doesn’t tread by you, the water remaining calm, you rise to your feet and take slow, metered steps as the water parts and flows against your shins.

Though the river is disturbed no matter how gently you stride forward, nothing slides out from its depths in pursuit of you. Nothing happens at all when you reach out to splay your hand out against the reflection, the water now gently lapping against your stomach rather than your legs.

You hadn’t expected any sort of shift in your reality, that would be ridiculous, but perhaps some sort of clarity; a further calm for a weary mind. It doesn’t come, and with a disheartened splash you wade your way back towards the shore.

This has been your sanctuary for some time. Excusing the snake, there’s not been any sort of threat to you, not here. A safe water world all your own. Though, that peace is shattered the moment that you make it to the bank and hear the water shift some small distance behind you. Turning your head, you’re met with the sight of a man, the bulky muscular silhouette towering in the patch of moonlight you had just stood in. Bright blue eyes catch the light, reflecting like an animal’s as you scramble back to where you’ve left your shorts.

He stands there, silent and unmoving like an obelisk even as you hastily dress yourself with a thundering heart and breaths that sound more or less like gasps, senses heightened by your panic as you turn tail to run.

No one had been there. You were sure of it when you sunk into the water. There was no sound when this person had swam over to take your place. He was just there, as if he had been the entire time and you somehow failed to notice.

You make your way into the woods framing this place, hurried steps and untied shoelaces. You don’t even bother with your flashlight.

Finding your way back home with aches in every muscle, the desperate rampage you had taken to get away finally coming to a close when the door slams shut behind you, you quickly shower and mull over what’s just happened. A ghost, perhaps. It had to of been. Any other person would have made noise in their approach, especially being that big. The mind could play its tricks; what you had seen was likely not even there at all— a terrifying figment of your imagination. That sets you at ease, somewhat, but not enough.

You don’t sleep well that night, tucked beneath your blanket and staring at the filtered moonlight through your curtains. Work isn’t on your mind at all come morning until your phone chimes with a notification from your manager, questioning your tardiness. A languid crawl out of bed follows, another shower, an unsatisfying breakfast, all before you opt to send a text back to let him know you won’t be in today.

It could be excused, you’re reliable and decent enough at the job; not one to boast, but far more eager to please than the rest of your coworkers. You would be entirely useless if you went in on no sleep, you reason.

You don’t want to go back there, not under the veil of night, but you find yourself horribly curious the longer that you bide your time indoors. You had to know if the thing that you saw was really there, had to calm your nerves. What if he had always been watching each time, and you simply hadn’t noticed? The forest bordering the river is terribly dark at night, anyone could crouch behind the shield of a tree and remain undetected until they willed the courage to drag you in, cup a palm over your mouth to silence your cries.

Maybe it was the monster the people in town rumored about.

The thought of some strange, silent thing living beneath the water waiting for an opportune moment to take you by the neck and drag you down to the silty floor to watch you drown horrified you. Yet, that’s the one conclusion that sticks. Those eyes… so lurid and haunting, no human being had eyes like that.

You inhale sharply, steeling your nerves as reach for a pocket knife for defense, toss it into the bag slung over your shoulder, and storm out the door.

The trek there is nothing short of dull.

No matter where you look, what shadows rise up beneath the dim glow of a falling sun, there’s nothing out in the woods. The river is equally tame. The water babbles over rock, cicadas buzz off in the distance, and not a thing seems amiss. Your search for footprints that don’t belong to the soles of your shoes turns up empty. The only thing that suggests just maybe it wasn’t all in your head is the book you had neglected to retrieve in your fear the night before.

The cover, every page within, now warped as though it had been pulled into the water and spit out to dry. You pick it up, peeling through damp pages, running your fingertips over the smeared ink. It’s possible that a particularly aggressive splash could have sullied it, but something tells you that that isn’t the case. Either way, it’s unreadable now. You sulk a bit as you slip the ruined thing into your bag and step towards the smooth stones to watch the water instead.

Night creeps in slowly with you there, and you’re on high alert for a time before you begin to relax as usual. Even giggle to yourself at how silly it was you believed you saw a ghost at all as you entertain yourself by skipping small stones across the water.

No large snake, no massive fish, no titan of a man appears before you, only a calming crescent moon and a few wandering wood ducks, gliding down from the bank to splash about. A thought comes to mind as the calm emboldens you: what would happen if you got in just one more time?

There’s nothing to suggest that you’re playing with fire as you leave your shoes neatly in the dry sand. If the ducks could swim unbothered by fish or men, then surely you could, too. You watch the little creatures a distance away as they dip their heads beneath the surface and chitter away amongst themselves while you take your first step in.

You don’t dare to go as far this time, stopping when the water brushes over your knees. You wait there while time seems to slow to a crawl, expecting the absolute worst, glancing further down the river, dipping your hand below the glassy surface until your fingertips brush the sand beneath.

It’s horribly hot and you’re still exhausted from the sleepless night before. The water feels nice, and you feel as though you have some sort of claim to it as you’ve been here more often than anyone else would dare to. Ghosts and monsters be damned, you seat yourself and let the water lap over your shoulders, tilting your head back to watch the stars.

When the singing begins it takes a moment to register just what it is that you’re hearing. It’s not beautiful, not like the myths have said. It’s hissed, a low whisper, a mockery of what a human song would sound like. The voice is rasped, lilted yet cold. The realization that it sings words from your book of poetry is what terrifies you the most, the warped pages all making sense now.

Your eyes dart to either side of you, forward, before realizing the voice is coming from behind you. Cold spreads through your veins as you try to force yourself to stand, but in your fear you find yourself petrified, rooted in water that would surely become your grave.

You can’t bring yourself to turn around, to inevitably find your eyes locked onto the shadowy frame of a man far too large, his eyes glistening and pale like the moon hanging above.

The voice pauses when it finds you unmoving, and you can hear the rustle of the creature shifting its weight where it’s stood on the rocks lining the bank. You’ve no clue how deep the river gets, where the opposite side leads, but your only chance of escape seems to be swimming through in the hopes that this thing doesn’t choose to chase after you. A part of you knows that he would, that that is exactly what he expects you to do, goading you to flee deeper with his eerie song so that he can drown you just as he did the others.

You do the opposite as you squeeze your eyes shut and crawl back towards the bank, making sure to keep some distance despite your willful blindness. You wouldn’t look at it, wouldn’t talk to it, you would just go home and never come back.

“Best to leave you alone, hm?”

You still as your fingers brush against wet moss, the voice no longer a whisper but loud, loud as it echoes your words from days past just above you. Beating back your own curiosity proves futile, because you look up at the damned thing then, expecting to see an impossible terror before you, sharp fangs wet with blood and appendages too spindly reaching out for you. Instead, you see only a man.

He’s crouched, only a meter or so away, and you immediately recognize his broad figure. The same as the night before. From this distance you can make out the finer details, the length of net covering his face and neck, the webbing between each finger. Still a scary sight, but only in the way it’s unfamiliar and imposing rather than instilling any sort of primordial fear.

“Excuse me?” You pull yourself fully out of the water, rising to your feet and taking a tentative step back. You’re prepared to run, a coil pulled too tight on the verge of snapping.

The man, creature, whatever he may be just tilts his head, lets the silence hang in the air for a moment before he has the audacity to laugh whether to himself or at the strange, bewildered expression on your face.

His stare is assessing as he sucks in a breath, follows suit in rising to his full height. From the size of him alone, you know you’re not getting away. A mere stride for him would be two or more for you, a deliberate tug of your wrist from him could snap it in an instant.

Yet, he doesn’t reach for you, only gestures toward your bag lying on the ground with a subtle flick of a finger. You give him a quizzical glance in turn, not bothering to retrieve it. You could come back during the day with a friend, gather it and never return. Only, your knife sits somewhere inside, the only protection that you’ve got. The realization spurs you to bend over and toss the strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll… I’ll be going now.”

The stare remains fixed upon you as you take another step back, blinking slowly every now and then as you both remain in some strange stasis.

It takes you a moment to put the pieces together. The reciting of words from the book, the mimicking of the words spoken to the snake, the hint at your bag… he’s expecting something and it’s not to steal away your life, only to be fed and have your company. It’s not charming, it’s awfully strange and eerie, but you find yourself giggling at the prospect of taming some murderous, shapeshifting monster with subpar treats and poetry.

You pull open the bag, searching for anything you may have brought along that he could eat, eventually prying out a small package and offering it out to him.

“Is this what you want?,” you ask, voice hushed and trembling.

He shakes his head, rustling the net cloaking him in the process. So, he understands, he’s just been willfully ignoring every other thing you’ve said prior. You store the package away with a perturbed expression crossing over your face.

“Then what?”

Any relief you had felt seems to dwindle when the giant takes a half-step closer. His skin is cool and wet as the river as he brushes his hand over your forearm, curling a set of fingers around it. The touch is gentle, but there’s a promise of violence lurking somewhere in the depths of his eyes.

“Come with me,” he urges in that harsh whisper from before, delicately squeezing as he pulls you towards him, leading you back to the river with a tight grip and a step back over the stones. Though his touch is passive, there’s a frightening strength lurking someplace beneath his flesh, tacked to bone, and as your gaze trails lower to rest to rest at your feet, the space between you two, the evidence of a life prone to violence and strength is laid bare before you.

You don’t fight the hold as he leads you to water so deep it caresses the base of your neck, right below the milky glow of a waning moon. Deeper still, as you’re pulled below, pressed down to the very bottom with his body lain over you. You can only hold your breath so long before an involuntary gasp leaves you, and a wave is funneled straight into your lungs.

Panic is fleeting, but the adrenaline stays ever-present. You claw, push, kick, to no avail. Pinned down by a hand weighing like an anchor you feel your vision flooding and hazy as his head knocks against your jaw, mouth sealing tightly over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss, the net fashioned into a hood digs into your skin, teeth scrape over your lip until you feel the sting of blood drawn.

All at once, your vision darkens and it’s over.

You find yourself lying back on the shore as the morning sun warms your face, causes your dampened shirt to cling to your skin. Disoriented, but alive, brushing your thumb over your lower lip as you sit up to stare at the subtle waves lapping over moss and rock.

Just a dream, you tell yourself, knowing full well you hadn’t fallen asleep.

Just a dream, even though you avoid the river entirely now. Your route home from work changes too, avoiding even a glimpse of the path that leads down to that place. You don’t even replace the book, you toss what remains of it after fishing through your bag, murmuring something about it surely being cursed and entertain yourself with film at night instead.

Sleep remains tentative, you wake with every sound, and your dreaming is filled with visions of a figure pushing you down into deep water, his weight bearing down upon you so heavily that you can not move until you wake with a start, eyes searching your bedroom.

Several weeks, and the fear does eventually fade.

The morning that the rain begins to fall, you realize you haven’t even thought about the river in days. There’s no monster prowling your nightmares anymore. You lived through what may or may not have occurred, and that was the end of it, simple as it may have been.

A late shift at work has you wandering out into the rain, umbrella in hand. You’re grateful that you live close, that you’re not entirely soaked to the bone when you step inside of the mundane building. Your coworkers notice your change in demeanor immediately, chirping about how glad they are that you’re finally feeling better, looking more yourself as the hours pass you by. It brings a smile to your face, a real one that you haven’t had in place since that last night.

Even in the summer, there’s a chill to the air in the late afternoon as you hurry home from work and make your way inside, stripping out of your wet clothes and setting your umbrella aside. It’s darker outside than it should be, even more so indoors. Reaching for the switch to turn on the lights proves useless— the power’s out.

You light your way with your phone, ignoring the way your pulse quickens and your heart flutters with the fear that something just doesn’t feel right. Your skin prickles with the thought of some unseen pair of eyes watching you, blue and cold. You only relax when you slam your bedroom door shut, locking it and pressing your forehead to the wood as you sigh. The puff of breath that escapes your lips is not the only in the room, you find out when the light of your phone illuminated your bed. Crouched beside it, a towering figure with a face veiled by fishing net. Words don’t come when you open your mouth to speak, and your heart stutters in your chest as you stand shaking but otherwise petrified.

“You didn’t come back.”

Of course you hadn’t.

Most people wouldn’t have.

“No. I’ve been… busy,” you choke out the excuse, hoping to pacify whatever emotion you imagine lurked beneath his tone, undetectable through the hiss of his voice. “I’ll visit soon, promise,” you lie, back pressed against the door as your fingers curl over the knob.

Your fear seems almost unwarranted. He doesn’t move toward you, only stands to wander back to the window where he must have broken in.

“Tonight?,” he asks in a voice so soft, the voice he must use as a lure because tugs at your heartstrings immediately, makes you want to follow despite the threat this thing poses merely by existing, despite everything.

“It’s cold— I’ll get sick,” you murmur. “How did you even find me..?”

“I will keep you warm.” The question goes unanswered.

You find yourself stifled again as he lumbers towards you, brushing cold fingers across the side of your face. It’s not a mockery of a kiss you receive next but a firm bite where your neck meets shoulder, not yet hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shiver, to grip at the wall of muscle that makes up his chest.

There’s a desperation to his movements as he herds you towards the window, pushes you toward the path leading back to the river. You’re soaked to the bone in seconds, hardly able to keep your eyes open past the weight of dampened eyelashes. The rain is so heavy it feels as though every step is like the first you took into cursed water, your feet sinking into the mud along the path with each tentative stride. The realization that you’re there doesn’t even hit you until you’re chest-deep in the chill, violent waves pushing against you, each carrying the threat of toppling you over entirely.

The palm splayed out against your bare back keeps you upright, leading you to a smooth rock jutting out in the midst of what seems a sea of frothing white and blue. The sea above is just as dark, angry clouds roaring as you’re pressed down onto your back, shivering terribly.

He keeps his promise though, a tight grip on each thigh as he pries your legs apart, sinks in between them and blankets you from the rain. Even with the cold pressed to your back, you feel the warmth of a summer sun above you, scorching from inside, just as blazing as the look in his wild eyes. The last of any resolve slips when you’re pulled beneath the violent waves, a tangle of limbs and desperate kisses coaxing oxygen into your lungs. Each roll and pull no less tumultuous than the waves overhead. A placid end when the rain comes to an impromptu halt, just as he stills over you. Hands rush to cup your face with one final, desperate and biting kiss.

When the morning sun pulls you from sleep, cool moss against your back and the weight of his head resting over your middle, the shallow water lapping lazily at your figure, you find that you no longer fear drowning.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #könig #konig #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #konig fanfiction #i have been mulling over this for an eternity sorry it needed to be extracted from my brain #he is absolutely more lycanthrope coded to me but whoosh whatever nix König be upon ye #also apologies to everyone for not writing much lately and the fact this is hardly a real fic #cursed by the sleepy i just need a 10yr long nap #<- in my ‘in denial about burnout’ era

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scaredpigeons · 11 months ago

Text

Deus Auri

Zhongli x reader (gn)

Word count: 1.04k (smol)

CW: sfw:) mild spoilers for Neuvillettes voice lines about Morax, he calls him Deus Auri, which is god of gold in Latin— might just be a title but any little tidbit of Morax we get I just gobble gobble up. Flirting, zhongli calls you my dear, darling, vixen. No pronouns or other gender specific language used. Some kisses and allusions of wanting more.

Enjoy!

“Deus Auri.”

You can nearly hear the crack of Zhongli’s neck as his gaze whips towards you, but you keep your gaze trained on your book as if you hadn’t seen its comical swivel in your peripherals.

“I’m sorry my dear, could you repeat that?” He said, though there was an edge to his tone.

“Deus Auri—God of Gold. What can you tell me about that name?” You said, index finger gliding down the edge of the book. You were no longer reading, but still kept your eyes trained on the pages to pretend like you weren’t vibrating with excitement at his reaction.

Zhongli was naturally very stoic, a well maintained facade to those who weren’t interested in looking deeper.

You had been plenty interested, taking one look at him and instantly knowing he was no ordinary man.

Now the better part of half a year into your blossoming relationship, he still hadn’t outright told you, but he’d grown comfortable.

You’d catch glimpses of his wrists, normally covered— deep onyx with veins of pure gold. Though this only happened in the safety of his home— there was a time he had to remove his gloves to help you in the kitchen, and his perfectly pale, human hands had distracted you the entire time.

The glamor he kept up in public slipped a bit when he was more at ease.

To the eye that was actually looking, zhongli really wasn’t subtle about who he was.

“Well, why don’t we start with where you heard such a name?” He asked.

“I was with the traveler last week, helping she and paimon with a commission in Fontaine.”

You can see the minuscule wince he gives out of the corner of your eye. Just a twitch of the brows as he blinks, so graceful, but you catch it because you’re looking for it.

“I overheard a conversation she had with a lovely gentleman over there, though I didn’t get to introduce myself. He mentioned the name when the traveler was asking him about Rex Lapis.”

You closed your book, finally turning to look at him, though you kept your gaze coyly through heavy lids, peaking demurely at him through your lashes.

“And you know, I thought that was very strange, her asking him about Rex lapis, when she could learn anything and everything about him from our resident expert.”

“The traveler has not visited liyue to see me in some time, darling. And I'm sure there are others who’ve studied the gods. I am not the only knowledgeable one in Teyvat.”

“I know, I know.” You chewed on your lip a bit for effect, looking puzzled. “So who is this Deus Auri? Is it perhaps another one of Morax’s many names?”

You looked at him expectantly, grinning as he grew more stiff in his seat beside you. A mere foot of space between you on the couch and he looked like he was ready for you to pounce on him.

You wanted to, you have wanted to, but he so chivalrously insists upon taking it slow.

Hand holding in the harbour. Chaste kisses good night. You wanted so badly to break through his barriers but you knew he was holding back.

“You are…” he let a puff of air through his nose. “Correct in the knowledge that Morax was known to have many different names. Unfortunately that is all I can say on the matter.”

“So cryptic.” You squinted at him. He often shut you out when you pried like this, poking and prodding in places you know you shouldn’t be, but he was always kind and straightforward about it—so you usually dropped it as soon as he denied you.

“Do you think he had a favourite name that he went by?” You pushed a bit more, hoping to get him to give you just one more crumb before you played your cards. It was time, you were getting tired of hiding it.

He smiled thoughtfully, relaxing into the couch once more. “I’d like to think that he enjoyed the name Rex Lapis, the name given to him by his people. I’m sure it brought him a great sense of pride.”

You grinned, soaking in his expression and words. Knowing what you know— gods. He really was so cute sometimes.

You open up your book, stilling your grin to prepare for what was next.

“Really? I’d like to think Zhongli is his favourite. Retirement is a good look for him.”

You expected denial, perhaps his neck snapping back to you like it did when you first mentioned the ancient name.

What you didn’t expect was to be tackled to the floor, a gloved hand supporting your neck instinctively as you and your book tumbled along the floor with the blur of rich oranges and browns that took you down.

When you finally settled, you were on your back with him looming over you, pining you to the ground.

“You little vixen. How long have you known?” His eyes were wild, hair a mess, cheeks flushed and breathless. Disheveled.

He looked more beautiful now than you’d ever seen him before.

“From the moment you opened your mouth.”

He kissed his teeth in a quick tsk, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Nothing escapes you, does it? I knew I would be in trouble with you.”

You cupped his face in your hands, pulling him back towards you.

“And yet you kept me around regardless.” You smiled, giving him a quick, teasing peck on the lips.

“How could I not? You have an inescapable magnetism that I am completely captured by. I’m afraid to say that you’re unraveling me even as we now speak.”

You grinned at him, face feeling just as flush as his.

“How much more unraveling do I need to do to get you to let down those walls you keep around you?”

“They were gone the moment I saw that you knew the truth, my dear, you should have said something much sooner.” He tilted his head with a soft grin.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer.

“Kiss me then, you old blockhead.”

He gave a rumble in his chest that sounded very much like a growl, and it set your nerves on fire.

“Behave.” He said sternly.

“No promises,” you said as you kissed him.

#zhongli #zhongli fluff #rex lapis #genshin morax #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli fic #zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader fluff #fluff #genshin fluff

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