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ghouldump · 4 months ago

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I love how you write for Lestat!!!! PLEASE NEVER STOP ❤️❤️❤️

Thicker Than Water | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.

lol, thank you, rewatching s1, after seeing s2, he is so toxic 😭 but so passionate and caring about everything he does, and lestat and claudia are so much alike so i thought of this

Motherhood. One of the biggest blessings this life could bring forth. You were unfortunate, turned before you were given the opportunity to bring creation into the world. Lestat always managed to keep your relationship alive, not allowing the chance to think about it, but there were times.

Those late nights, hunting for your next meal like an animal, you’d see mothers, holding the hands of their sons and daughters. Staring for a moment, you could feel your heart, which hadn't beat in years, break. Then Claudia came along, or you came to her, saving her, pleading that Lestat turned her.

He warned that she would be a mistake, forced into the body of a child forever. While you understood him, you couldn't think rationally at the moment. A child needed to be saved and you weren't letting up, begging him, before he finally gave in.

Claudia was turned and quickly became the apple of your eyes. A mother, you had become a mother overnight and you loved her as if you'd birthed her. Her relationship with Lestat always seemed strained, the two constantly bumping heads. You found it adorable at times, they couldn't see how much they were similar, with Lestat’s blood in her veins, she was his daughter through and through.

Your baby, she was, although you may have spoiled her too much. As she grew older, wanting more than other preteen girls, the guilt began to sink in. Your baby, yet instead of taking her to a hospital that night, you forced her into becoming what you were.

“Hey,” you smiled as the front door opened, Lestat walking in. Claudia sat in a chair, while you stood behind her, carefully brushing her hair.

“Hey,” Lestat said in a weird tone, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“He’s such a dick,” Claudia said, crossing her arms.

Staring at the stairs for a second, letting his tone process, as he disappeared upstairs. Putting on your best fake smile, you changed the subject, letting Claudia talk about the current boy she had a crush on.

Your relationship, recently, had been distant. At times it was about things you felt you should no longer do, inviting people into your home, your sex life, threesomes, and orgies. You didn't want to expose Claudia to those things. Then came discipline, you never corrected her, at least not like Lestat. You were gentle with her, always, never raising your voice, and making excuses for her. It was beginning to cause a rift in your marriage.

Braiding the soft curly hair into pigtails, you sent her off to her room, the sun would be rising soon enough. Going to your bedroom, you were surprised to see Lestat already in his coffin.

“Honey, is everything alright?” you asked. One of the essential rules of your union was never to go to bed angry at the other.

“I am fine,” he said with a huff, as he opened the coffin.

“I don't like when you talk like that in front of Claudia,” you told him, watching as he rolled his eyes.

“Claudia does a lot of things I don't like, and I don't complain”

“Yes, you do, to her face and me, she's a child-

“She is not a child, she’ll be 19 in four months. She's a brat who whines to get her way, and every time, you give it to her,” he said, making you scoff.

“Sorry for being a mother to our daughter, even if you don't like her,” you told him, getting into your coffin.

“Y/n,” he called out, his voice full of sympathy.

“Just leave me alone, I'm tired,” you said, closing your eyes to fall asleep.

As night fell upon the sky, you opened your coffin, going straight to the closet, picking an outfit. You could hear Lestat standing up, but you didn’t dare to face him. His eyes set on you as you changed, slipping into the form fitting dress.

“Ma chèrie, I want to apologize for the way that I spoke to you-

“It’s fine,” you told him, adjusting the pantyhose, before stepping into the heels.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a smile, he was still bare, while you had already dressed, and were walking out of the room.

“Out,” you said, nonchalantly.

Leaving out of the room, you saw Claudia come out of her room, looking at you as you passed.

“Are we going hunting?”

“No, I have a few things to do,” you told her.

“Can I come?”

“No Claudia, I have to go alone, see if Lestat will take you”

“But-

“Or go alone, it doesn't matter,” you told her, walking away. You knew you'd probably hurt her feelings, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You couldn't care about anything right now.

You needed a break from both of them. Lestat is such a dick, Claudia is a brat, He wants you all to himself, She is trying to take you from me, it was an endless cycle of them bickering against each other - leaving you to try to be a mediator.

“What did you do, asshole?” you could hear Claudia scream at him.

“Shut up, you insolent brat,” he told her, as you left out of the front door.

Walking through the streets, you attempted to clear your mind. Claudia could be heard, talking, asking if you were alright. If you wanted to leave Lestat for good, but you ignored her. Entering the crowded bar, you tuned out her voice, choosing to focus on the jazz music played by the band.

Sitting at an empty table, you sighed, enjoying the comfort the harmony brought to your sanity.

“Mind if I sit here?” you heard, making you look up, gasping immediately.

“George,” you smiled, your eyes traveling from head to toe, examining the army uniform.

“I thought it was you I saw, I had to be sure,” he laughed, pulling you into a firm hug.

“What are you doing here? I thought-

“I’m only home for a few days, then I'm going overseas,” he said. Truth be told, you weren't paying attention to much he was saying, focused on his Adam’s apple.

“Please, sit, it has been forever,” you smiled, as he sat next to you.

George was a childhood friend, while not exactly your first love, he was your first for other things. You remembered your last time with him, he had been drafted and was being sent away to the military. He was only 18, when he left, that night being over a decade ago.

“You still look as beautiful as you did back then,” he told you.

“I know,” you smirked. You could hear his thoughts, sex clouded his brain, his eyes full of lust.

Leaning close to him, tilting your head, you slowly pressed your lips into his. You and Lestat both had your fair share of fulfilled fantasies, but this was different. Something on your own, the stress relief you needed from the problems in your life.

“You want to come back to my place?” he asked you.

“Lead the way,” you told him, biting your lip, as he stood, walking you to his car.

During the drive, he caught you up on his life and how he managed to rank up within the service. The loss of his parents, inheriting their house while he was away. He went on about how he was getting older and needed to start looking for a wife.

“What about you?” he finally asked as he parked in front of the house.

It wasn't nearly as extravagant as you had become accustomed to, living with Lestat, but it was perfect for a normal, small, but growing family.

“What about me?”

“Your life? How has it been these last few years?” he asked as you followed him, and he unlocked the door, letting you in.

“Well, I'm married and I have a daughter,” you said, chuckling as his eyes widened.

“You probably should've told me that before I took you to my house,” he told you, as you went to the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“It's complicated”

“Then talk to me, you know you can trust me, sweets,” he said, you couldn't help but smile at the old nickname.

“My daughter, she's…adopted, but that doesn't change a thing, she's mine. She and my husband, are always bumping heads, they are so similar and so stubborn. Their relationship is causing a rift, I just need a break from both of them,” you shook your head.

“You sound stressed out, sweets,” George said, reaching for your hand.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Maybe I can help you?” he said, as you looked at his hand, the way his thumb brushed against your skin.

“Yeah?” you smirked at him, as he pulled you onto his lap.

“You don't think she’ll leave us, do you?” Claudia asked her father. They sat in the car, a good distance from the house.

The two of them were worried about you, and while they argued at first, they quickly got it together and chose to follow you. Full of jealousy, it took everything in them to not kill the man the moment he joined your table.

You, despite also having Lestat’s blood, weren't like them. You weren't so quick to kill, hunting rodents before you’d choose to drain a person to death, always trying to bring comfort to the two of them. You held onto human traditions while embracing immortality. From convincing them to partake in family portraits to bonding with the two of them in the living room. They loved you greatly, so much that they'd put up with each other.

“You know this is your fault, she asked you to stop messing with that hussy, and you wouldn't,” Claudia spat at her father.

Lestat could hardly listen, his shaken hand going to his mouth. He could hear undoubtedly, what you were doing, what the two of you were doing. This was different than a threesome or orgy with people that meant nothing to the two of you. They'd usually end up drained or glamoured before the night was over. But this, my god, was different, Lestat felt the lust that you felt for this man, that you knew, and that made him sick to his core.

“You went to see her again?” you crossed your eyes, leaning against the doorpost, as he entered the house.

“She is no competition, ma chérie, it is you, who have my heart,” he told you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I thought we decided to put all of this stuff behind us”

“You did when you decided you wanted to become a mother,” he said, a gleam of disgust in his eyes, briefly staring at Claudia, as he went upstairs.

This was his fault, he had caused the wedge between the two of you, and he had to be the one to fix it. A bloody tear slipped out his eye, while he moved his hair out of his face.

“She won’t leave us,” he told his daughter, as he started the car, driving past the house.

“I have to go,” you told George, straddling his waist, in his bed.

“You don't have to leave,” he told you, his hand caressing your back.

“I do,” you laughed.

“Your family, you can leave them, start over with me, get married, and we’ll make a daughter of our own”

“Those things are easier said than done, I couldn't up and leave them, they need me as much as I need them,” you said, pulling away, to get dressed.

“I didn't mean to offend you, sweets,” he apologized.

“It's okay, really, I just need to get back home, the sun will be up soon enough,” you shook your head.

“Well I can drop you off-

“No need, you don't live too far from my house”

“Can I see you again, tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, before leaving his house, walking home.

Entering the house, you were surprised by how quiet it was, abnormally quiet. Going upstairs, you peeked in Claudia’s room. Everything was neatly organized, with her coffin in the middle of the room, closed. Smiling lightly, you shut the door, before moving to your shared bedroom. Lestat was already away in his coffin, while yours was still open.

Stripping from your clothing, you felt a weight lifted from your shoulders. The previous tense stress that was there before, was gone. Climbing into your coffin, you looked over at Lestat’s before shutting your own.

“Good night,” you said lowly, before falling asleep.

Sleeping throughout the day, as night approached, you felt an uneasy sensation in your stomach. Unable to move, you felt restricted, when suddenly, your Achilles’ heel was sliced. Your eyes finally opened, widening seeing Claudia stand, a small blade in her hand. Staring into her piercing eyes, she held a deep frown, before going to Lestat’s side.

Your mouth was taped, and your body was wrapped in chains, you felt weak and confused. Immediately, you looked to Lestat, whose back was turned to you, before he turned to face you, moving to reveal the surprise.

George sat tied in front of you, tape on his mouth, his face already bruising. George looked at you, before screaming at Lestat, who frowned at him.

“Pathetic,” he said before his eyes went to you. You could see the blood stains on his face that he had been crying.

“Ma chérie, you hurt me badly, both of us,” he told you, before ripping the tape from your mouth.

“What are you talking about? How is this different from you going to see her?” you asked him.

“That was different and you know it, I heard you, I could feel your passion for him,” he screamed at you, tears pouring out.

“No one told you to follow me”

“No, but he will pay, for thinking he was worthy to have you, and for trying to break our family apart,” he said, as he moved to George, using his nail to cut his face.

“Claudia, let me out of this, I need to heal,” you hold her, but she turns her head, the bloody tears leaking from her eyes.

“He wants to take you from us, mama, and give you a new daughter, I know we had our problems, but I never thought that you would want to leave,” she said, crossing her arms.

“I don't, I told him I didn't, I love you both, I’ve been overwhelmed with stress, and I wanted relief, but that's it, not to leave you, either of you,” you told him. George continued struggling to speak. Claudia rolled her eyes, ripping the tape from his mouth, making him yelp.

“It’s true, she said she needs you both, as much as you need her,” George said, making the two look at you.

“Ma chérie-

“Mama-

The two spoke at the same time, making their way in front of you, and wrapping their arms around you.

“I’m sorry for how I've acted, I don't want you to find pleasure anywhere else, just hours with you in the arms of another, feels like death all over,” Lestat told you.

“And I don't want to lose you as my mama, I’ll be better,” Claudia said, her voice cracking. You found both of their confessions heart-touching, becoming emotional.

“You both are perfect the way you are, we should've communicated better as a family,” you told him, as they both agreed.

Standing tall, you watched as Claudia grabbed the bolt cutters, breaking the chains from around you. Lestat helped you stand, holding your waist, as you leaned on him.

“We had to be sure you wouldn't break free if you were leaving with him, sorry, mama,” she said, glancing at your feet.

“It's alright”

“Y/n, help me,” George pleaded with you.

“Your meal, ma chérie,” Lestat eyed him.

“We know you prefer hunting your rodents, which is why we brought the meal to you, as we celebrate,” Claudia said.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Our companionship,” Lestat smirked.

“Our family will be stronger than ever, after this,” Claudia told you.

Looking at George, he was confused and scared. Baring your teeth, you limped over to him.

“Don't worry about the mess, we will clean up,” Claudia said.

“Y/n, what are you-

Covering his mouth, you sank your teeth into his neck, climbing into his lap. Your eyes shut, as you took pleasure in the rarity, the blood dripping from your chin.

“Y/n, please,” George begged, his eyes slightly rolling back.

“Join me,” you told Claudia, smiling as she rushed over, biting his wrist. Looking at Lestat, he was more hesitant, approaching as you held out your hand. Intertwining your fingers, he leaned down, kissing your lips. The blood smeared on his mouth before he attacked the other side of George’s neck.

Leaning against the brick wall, you watched as Lestat and Claudia burned the body. Your arms wrapped around your body, as you watched them interact. They calmly conversed with each other, before they turned, walking towards you.

“And so who was right in the end?” You could hear Lestat talking.

“You were”

“Correct”

“What was he correct about?” you asked Claudia, smiling at the two.

“Blood is thicker than water,” she said, as he pat her head in approval. All you could think of us was how close they seemed.

“It's cause we're a family, mama, we have our problems but we are meant to all be together,” she giggled, as she heard your thoughts.

“You're right, I love you, both of you,” you told them, accepting Lestat’s kiss, before kissing Claudia’s forehead.

“We still have a few hours before sunrise, should we go for a nice drive?” you asked him.

“Sounds perfect,” Lestat said, watching as you turned, going into the house.

“You did well,” he told Claudia.

“I learned from the best,” she said, as they shared a secretive handshake, going inside, pleased, knowing that together they were able to fix the problems in their family.

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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octuscle · 5 months ago

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Welcome to Overland!

Overland Park in Kansas. I really had to google it first. Where the hell did my father get the idea that I would really study here? I mean, I have offers from Stanford and Cambridge. I'm not going to Overland Park. Kansas! Sure, it might have been a good fit for my dad. My dad is the prototypical corn-fed athlete. He looks dazzling for his 42 years, still a cross so wide that my two younger brothers and I can hide behind it. His mullet is a bit of a show-off, if you ask me. But he seems to go down well with his customers. His car dealership is the biggest in the state. My two younger brothers both have petrol in their blood. They both want to get their MBAs at Overland Park. But I'm much more interested in law. And Harvard would be my dream for that.

Anyway, my father gave me a car for my 18th birthday. A super impractical Dodge RAM. Doesn't suit me at all. And the car came with a gas voucher and a voucher for a mall around the corner. Well, I hope they'll have a Brooks Brothers store. But I'm quietly guessing that they'll only have cowboy boots and plaid shirts… Okay, not to be ungrateful, I'm making the trip to Overland Park in the monster car. I'll also attend his alma mater's orientation event if I absolutely have to. But I'll sign up over my dead body!

The drive to Kansas wasn't so bad. I admit that the car is really huge and comfortable. But the closer I got to the Midwest, the less comfortable I felt. Guys with arms thicker than my legs asked me about the car at gas stations and rest stops. I have no idea how much horsepower it has… I'm not interested either. But here you're obviously only defined by your car. And most of the muscular rednecks here made no secret of the fact that they didn't begrudge me this car. It got even worse when I parked the car in front of the hotel in Overland Park… The valet service looked almost sympathetic when I got out of the car. Tomorrow I'd better take the bus to the information day at the university.

It's incredible how many people are interested in this pathetic campus. It's pretty full in the auditorium. The dean gives a speech that is as boring as the landscape here. And the faculty members either all look like they're coaches of the football team or gardeners on campus. Hillbillies. All of them! The professors introducing each faculty call on the potential juniors who have signed up on the list for that faculty. I didn't put a cross anywhere. All uninteresting for me. And so the auditorium empties out with each professor dragging a train of high school seniors behind him. And at some point, the auditorium is empty. Only three people are still sitting here. A redhead who spends the whole time reading a book. A skinny guy playing with his cell phone and me. I speak to the skinny guy. "No desire to go to Overland Park either?" "Not on your life. I'm not studying thousands of miles from the nearest decent opera." The redhead interjects, "And pretty much everything else you'd call civilization." We laugh and introduce ourselves. Erik, the redhead (how appropriate, I'm not joking), the skinny one is Brayden and I'm Callan. We start talking. Somehow we all have a similar fate. Either our fathers or our brothers studied here. We all have more artistic than sporting interests. We all want to study either in California or New England. Erik suggests that we go out and sit on campus. The weather is nice. It's a good idea. We're sitting in the sun talking when we suddenly hear a voice.

"Hey squad! Finally found you, fam! I've been straight up grinding and hunting all over this place to link up with my homies!" Towards us comes the epitome of everything I loathe about university. An unkempt muscleman, his greasy mullet tamed with a baseball cap on backwards, in a sweaty tank top. Four bottles of beer in his hand. He hands each of us a bottle and says "Yo, yo, yo, what up fam! The name's Ryder, my professor homie spilled the tea that there are three total bros up in here who ain't about that study life, and guess what? Yours truly got the task of keepin' it real with y'all. Haha, I'm the king of slacking off, ain't nobody got time for studying and whatnot. Let's kick back and chill, my dudes!" Ryder stinks of sweat. Disgusting. But somehow also hypnotizing. He opens his bottle and says "Cheers". As if in a trance, we open our bottles and say "cheers".

"Yo, fam, check it out, I'm gonna give you a lit tour of the campus, but not that lame-o typical stuff. Like, forget about the snooze-fest library or whatever. Bro, regular dudes walk in there and walk out looking like they just stepped out of a nerd convention with their thick glasses and wack sweaters. Let's bounce and hit up the real vibes, ya feel me?" Ryder almost chokes with laughter at his own joke, which Erik counters with a fist bump. What the…? "Yo, peep that cafeteria comin' up! It's legit crucial for gettin' in that dank protein intake, ya feel me? And bro, protein is like, the holy grail of gainz. That's the fuel for them epic protein farts, man! Rock on, get that fuel, unleash the beast!" As if on cue, he lets out a fart. Shit, that stinks. Erik laughs. And farts too. Shit, didn't he actually want to study piano? At the conservatory in Boston? Strange behavior for a pianist….

Ryder tells us to wait a minute. He runs into the cafeteria and comes back with four fresh cold bottles of beer. Shit, yes, the beer tastes good. I take a deep swig. And…. BUUUUURP! Ryder and Erik are laughing uproariously. Brayden looks irritated. And I reply ""Yo, it's gonna be, like, forever until those protein farts are unleashed. So, a real dude just gotta let out a mega burp, bro!" Erik and Ryder give me a high five. And Ryder says that he's about to lead us to the source of all protein farts.

You can smell the gym changing rooms before you see them. Erik and I take a deep breath. Brayden holds the sleeve of his jacket in front of his nose. "Yo, bro, it looks like we're getting closer to your second home, huh, Ryder? Watch out for the vibes!" says Erik. Ryder does a double bicep pose and says that Erik can fucking take it. Poor Brayden is standing right next to Ryder. His nose is basically right in the sweaty bush in Ryder's armpit. "Dang, I forgot my gear for the gym! I'm totally itching to pump some iron, man." comes out of his mouth. "Dude, no worries, at our next stop we'll totally score something way cooler for you to rock." says Ryder. "Yo, dude, spit it again - what's your name, pumpin' pal?" Braydon copies Ryder's double bicep pose. I didn't think he had muscles like that. "Yo, my dudes, I'm Beau, like, duh, isn't it obvious? I mean, come on, who else could it be, right? Beau in the hizzouse, representin' like a boss!" The two of them do a chest bump. Erik and I actually look at each other a little enviously. I mean, everyone wants to be best mates with Ryder, the hottest guy on campus.

"Yo, dudes, head to the most lit spot on the whole campus. And watch out! If you think it already smells like sweat and musk, you haven't seen anything yet!" We walk across the student parking lot towards the football field. Past my baby. Ryder raises his eyebrows appreciatively and says that you rarely see cars this cool here. I pose proudly: "Geez, check out this 410 horsepower beast with eight cylinders and 581 Newton meters of torque! My 6.7-liter monster needs that kind of power too. Rocking full leather interior, a massive 12-inch touchscreen infotainment system, and a killer 750-watt sound system with 17 Harman Kardon speakers. Damn, could never roll in a hybrid after this!" Ryder gives me a chest bump too. Shit, I'm in the club!

Erik thaws out when we're finally in the changing rooms of the football stadium. He takes a deep breath. "Yo, peeps! You feelin' me on this? This smell is like pure home vibes, amirite?" he says. Ryder points to the pile of dirty laundry in the corner. "Yo, dudes, wanna toss some balls around? Let's get our sporty vibes on and slay the game with our rad skills! Let's flex our muscles and show off our mad throwing game. Let's get that adrenaline pumping and have a blast on the field. It's gonna be lit, so don't miss out, fam! Let's do this!" He really doesn't have to say that twice. In no time at all, we're undressed and rummaging naked through our clothes for something to pass. Erik deliberately lets his cock swing for a very long time before putting it into an XXL urine and cum yellow jockstrap. Dude, that boy would make horses jealous! And he can impress Ryder. Out onto the pitch and with a well-directed throw he chases the ball the length of the pitch through the goal. Four-chest bump! Shit, we all can't wait to play for the college team!

"Yo homies, any more burning questions for your boy? The sickest crew on campus is definitely mine - Alpha Phi Alpha, baby! Don't stress, you guys are total Alpha bros, so of course you'll get in. If you're down, we're throwing a lit party at the frat house tonight. Crash on the couch if you want, solo, duo, trio… whatever floats your boat. Just remember, never make eye contact, that's like, no homo!" Beau asks where he can get a cold beer now. Rick has a mega boner. And I can't wait to suck him off right away. Unless Ryder beats me to it. Shit, I'm so proud to be a business major at the University of Kansas on the Overland campus. My dad will be even prouder.

"Yo, so you wanna join the sickest crew of all the raddest universities in the damn USA?" I love the information days on campus. Lots of hot fresh meat. And the premium meat belongs to Alpha Phi Alpha, just like us! "Yo, peep this dude with the sickest Mullet ever, that's my bro Beau. And check out the fiery buff dude over there, that's Rick, the top quarterback of the football squad for real. I'm Cletus, and we 'bout to show y'all the raddest spots on campus. But first, in honor of the hottest dude to ever grace this campus, let's crack open a cold one." We take a big sip. And burp "Ryder" loudly!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #broification #bro tf #jock tf #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk #frat bro

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ventique18 · 5 months ago

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I know there are some people who don't think Malleus and Silver have a sibling relationship. And that's fine because there was never any explicit statements in-game that says so. But from everything that happens in Book 7, I think that's pretty much what the writers and Yana intended: that they're brothers born from different parents but nourished by the same man. "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Some people might say that they don't act like brothers, but not all siblings treat each other like what's commonly accepted. Malleus was already grown when Silver came to their lives, so it would be very hard for them to joke around as if they're siblings with two years of age difference between them. This is anecdotal, but I myself am the youngest of siblings, with the older one 15 years ahead of me. I don't joke around with them because when I developed my brain enough to think properly, they were already well past the rambunctious age. Our relationship has always been built on respect and seniority.

And that's how Malleus and Silver's relationship is. Silver looks up to Malleus and wants to reciprocate everything he's done for him, and Malleus still thinks of Silver as a baby he needs to protect. Maybe this is not ideal, and maybe this isn't the healthiest, but for all their faults they care deeply for each other. So much that they get mad on behalf of each other, they get jealous of each other, they would go to extreme lengths for each other. Like what siblings do. They just don't know how to express it properly, because there's an unspoken wall between them: the simple fact that they didn't come from the same womb. And this is exactly what Book 7 intends to address.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #ventique rambles #twst silver

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abrunettefangirlnerd · 1 year ago

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If You Love Her

Prompt: You are dating Rafe after JJ cheated on you... but you're still a member of the pogues. A party and the boneyard makes tensions rise between everyone.

Rafe POV

Her head rests against Rafe’s chest as they soak up the last bit of the sun lounging on the Druthers. It has been a rare peaceful day and Rafe is thanking whatever higher power there is that she has become his saving grace. He just hates the way that it happened.

(Y/N) is originally a pogue, but it never mattered to Rafe no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Rafe never picked on her, only her friends. She became close with Sarah after saving whatever the latest sea creature was at the time. So she had been over a few times before Sarah started dating John B. Though it was the moment she stopped hiding behind the boys and found her voice, that Rafe has never stopped listening. He has been in a trance ever since. Her fire is what drew him in, but it is (Y/N)’s heart that melted his core. The only problem, she was JJ Maybank’s girl. “Was” being the operative word.

Rafe will never forget her tear stricken face, red eyes, and piercing sob from that night. It took everything in him to not beat that punk to a pulp. Thinking about it even now gets Rafe all riled up. He hates that she is still around JJ, she never left the group. Rafe understands they are her friends, but he doesn’t like it.

“Come on,” (Y/N) stirs, still half asleep. “You promised we would go to the party.”

“Right, the boneyard party. With the pogues.”

“Hey, I’m a pogue.” (Y/N) angles her face to look up at his with a teasing smile.

“You’re my pogue.” Rafe smiles and leans down to place a kiss on her forehead.

Yeah she is his pogue and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Any other party he would be excited to go. He loves parties with his girl, dancing the night away and playing drinking games. Tonight will be exactly like that, except he will have to see Maybank. I wonder if him and Kie have made it official yet, Rafe wonders to himself.

Your POV

The music can be heard from a mile away in Rafe’s truck. My arm wraps around his as his hand gently squeezes my thigh. I know he doesn’t want to be here. He is doing it for me and I love that he is willing to entertain me for a few hours. I won’t make him stay long. I want him to see that my friends can be cool, and I hope one day they can put away their bad blood and get along.

Years of pent-up anger at both groups has been baking as long as I can remember. If it wasn’t for becoming secret friends with Sarah years before she joined the group, I may have the same outlook on Rafe as the others. Can he be a jerk and annoying as hell? Yes, but he can be sweet and at times my friends can be no better. Things between the kooks and the pogues have been quiet lately, but I know Rafe has it for JJ. I can’t blame him, I did too before I accepted that JJ deciding to cheat had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him. If I could have wished for anything that if JJ had to cheat, I would have chosen for him to cheat with anyone else but Kie. It makes the tension in the group that much thicker.

“Relax,” I giggle. “We’ll make an appearance. Stay an hour, two tops. Then we can go off on our own.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything but I can see a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. His thumb lightly brushes against my skin and I sense him starting to relax a bit. I just hope that tonight ends up being drama free.

The truck is parked and Rafe is on my side opening the door. I learned early on that I am not allowed out of the truck unless he opens my door for me. Made that mistake and he wouldn’t move from his spot till I got back in so he could do it properly. I thought it was annoying and egotistical, but now I find it sweet. JJ never did that for me when we were dating.

There are a lot of things that Rafe does that JJ never did. Aside from the whole cheating part, JJ was a fairly good boyfriend. He looked after me, was a good cuddler, made sure I had a good time. Being with Rafe though is so different. Sure he does look after me, kind of always has. We have the best time when together and I feel so safe in his arms. I’m not worried about a pretty blonde catching his eye. He is a complete gentleman making sure I am okay, respecting boundaries, going slow, being open. Something I did not expect is for him to communicate as well as he does. I guess once he knew I wasn’t going anywhere and that his feelings don’t scare me, he trusts me enough to talk about all the crap with his dad and if he is feeling insecure. He never freaks or overreacts when I have an issue with something.

“Hey boys!” I greet John B and Pope at the keg. I notice a small release of air leave Rafe’s chest at the realization JJ isn’t around yet.

“(Y/N) what up! I miss you at the chateau.” John B goes in for a hug and Rafe lets go of my waist to accommodate. The two shake hands after John B releases me. It is a simple gesture to an outsider, but with these two it means everything. John B is practically my brother and with him dating Sarah, and Rafe dating me, they both are trying to put in an effort.

“Here you two go.” Pope hands me and Rafe cups of beer that we gladly take.

A few drinks later, we depart for a dance near the fire. The music pulsates through my veins mixed with the alcohol and a nice buzz fills my senses. Rafe loops his arms around my waist and I pair mine around his neck. We sway to our own beat, not minding the people jumping around us. We are lost in our own world and we are the only two people who exist.

Rafe’s eyes peer into mine as we rest our foreheads against each other. His lids close and I do the same, focusing on his hold on me. Warmth swarms over my body originating from his touch. I can’t wrap it around my head that I am with Rafe Cameron and that he can make me feel like I’m on top of the world. I only hope I can make him feel the same, that is often one of my insecurities. One that Rafe knows about and tries to assure me that I am more than enough for him.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Rafe whispers in my ear and places a kiss on the tip of my nose. I swear he can read my mind.

Before I can say anything Rafe’s touch disappears from my body. I immediately open my eyes and find the back of a blonde standing between me and my boyfriend, JJ. The alcohol has me stumbling against the sand as I land against Rafe’s arm and he steadies me before putting my frame behind his. Always my protector.

Rafe makes his stand but waits to see what JJ plans to do first. He knows that if he threw the first punch I would be mad. All I want is peace. Except I would not ask him to hold back if JJ started it first. He promised me, and so far he has kept his promise.

“You got the money, the job, and now the girl.” JJ’s words spread through the dry air, and people are beginning to take notice of a potential scuffle. Tears sting my eyes. Why is he making it sound like it is my fault I left him?

“Well Rafe if you plan on dating (Y/N) I want to fill you in on a few things.” JJ takes a step forward and I can feel Rafe’s muscles tense beneath my hands. JJ begins to speak but his gaze falls to me. “She always has trouble falling asleep, and she likes to cuddle while under the sheets.” JJ sends a wink my way and whistles from the accumulating audience fill the air. “She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV. There’s still a few other thin-“

“She loves love notes and babies,” Rafe interrupts. “And likes giving gifts. She has a hard time accepting a good complement. She loves her whole family and all of her friends… not that they deserve it.”

I didn’t think it was possible for the air to get thicker than it has just now. JJ’s drunk eyes danced over me until Rafe unexpectedly interrupted. Both of our eyes cling to Rafe as he spoke but for two different reasons. My heart skips as Rafe reaches to grab my hand and gives it a light squeeze. I had no clue JJ was going to do something like this, but I am even more surprised at the fact Rafe has been paying attention this well. He continues to amaze me and all I want to do is kiss him.

“When she gives me her heart completely, I won’t break it like you did. (Y/N) is safe with me. I’ll stand by her side instead of sneaking off behind her back.” Rafe stares JJ down a few moments more before turning towards me.

His hands cup my cheeks and looks into my eyes silently asking if I’m okay. I nod to answer him and bring my hands up to rest against his wrists. Rafe places a soft but protective kiss against my forehead and whispers for us to go. Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he pulls me in close and nods his head toward a stunned John B.

The walk to the car is silent. Rafe opens my door for me and waits for me to climb in before closing it. He quickly joins me in the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the car. Instead he turns towards me, he eyes furrowed as he contemplates what he is going to say.

“I’m sorry if I over stepped.” Rafe’s voice is a whisper. “I know you can handle yourself, but I couldn’t let him do that. Act like he still has claim over you, that he is the only one who can know you.”

“Hey, hey it’s okay. You did everything right.” I lean over and let my hand cup his cheek, bringing his gaze back to mine.

“I meant everything I said.” His beautiful orbs pierce mine. “I want you to know that. I’m in it for the long game. I love you (Y/N).”

His voice cracks and I can tell how scared he is to say that last part. We’ve only been dating a month but we have known each other for years. Staying the night with Sarah has usually ended up with late night talks with Rafe after she fell asleep. We are the unlikely duo but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I trust you.” I say and my face heats up with my smile. “I love you, Rafe.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in Rafe’s ears but once they do pure shock and adoration quickly take over his features. He leans in and gifts me with a soft but passionate kiss. All his love and vulnerability is wrapped in every movement he makes with me and I can already tell this is forever.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #drew stareky x y/n #obx fanfiction #outerbanks fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #jj maybank #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader

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14thgalerie · 1 year ago

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"In a chilling twist of events, you find your walls marred with splatters of crimson red, and at the epicenter stands your fiancé, a haunting nonchalance in his gaze."

• pairing: tom riddle x reader

• now playing: nfwmb by hozier

• word count: 4.2k

• genre: angst

“What have you done?” You ask, voice breaking in trepidation.

A heavy sense of unease permeated the air, leaving no doubt that what may come out of his mouth will only confirm your worst fears, yet, you still ask. Grappling at the little hope, that fading light, that maybe you might be wrong.

There was no response. The only audible noise was the eerie ruffling of the trees outside, swaying terrifyingly from the storm, paired with the endless ticking of the grandfather clock at the end of your entrance hall.

Hands turning cold and clammy, itching to scratch at the blockage in your throat. To plead with him to answer you truthfully, for once in the entire 10 years you’ve known each other.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here.” He finally speaks.

Maybe it was a false light. One that he deliberately put himself in order for you to believe that he was still worthy of your time, of your saviour acts.

“Did I ruin your act, huh?” You entertain this show of his, one last time. Letting him believe that he still holds the reins. But his piercing dark eyes that are brazenly fixed on you with such a deep intensity urge you to cower back against the door.

“No, I was just surprised, is all.” He puts on that god-awful mask— making you wonder how painfully stupid you were before to not realise you were being played as a fool. The one that he quickly plasters on as he walked the hallways of Hogwarts back then. A gentle smile that mirrors the one in his eyes, inviting and comfortable. “Let’s go outside, shall we?”

He reached out his pale hands, fingers decorated by silver rings, one of which was a gift from you years ago. His hands that always housed themselves above your thigh, tracing mindlessly despite the evident warmth that followed it.

The normalcy that laced his visage made you want to throw up the bile that had been bubbling in the pit of your stomach since your nose registered the metallic smell that permeated the living room air. It makes you sick that he is capable of such atrocities.

“No.”

You let a moment of silence occur, watching the mask crack, his perfect smile flinching. You have got to give it to him. He was able to send waves of fear through you, willing you to succumb to his every whim. Even now, as the blood paints the once cream-coloured walls. The walls that you spent hours meticulously covering.

“Let’s talk here, instead.”

He nods slowly, for the first time, you see how the state of being unsure of your next actions leaves him unsettled and tense. Eyebrows creasing ever so slightly, the bulwark he built around himself getting thicker.

“Did you honestly think you could get away with this?” You ask, puzzled at his gall. “To pretend that you can barely even see the original colour of our walls now because of-“

Your breath hitches at the thought, unable to speak the words out loud. To do so is to acknowledge that someone has brutally died in the very place that you planned to raise your child in. Somewhere that should have been a safe haven for you.

“Nothing a little magic couldn’t fix, Darling.”

“Are you dense? I don’t care for the walls!” You shout, unable to keep your wits on you anymore.

“Then why are you complaining about it then?”

“I’m talking about how you just killed, no, murdered somebody in our house. Our home. the one place that I should feel safe in.”

“And you are…anywhere you are as long as you’re with me.”

Raising your hands to your pursed lips, dragging it down in exasperation. It truly baffles you how unstirred he is in this situation. You knew he had a qualm for unusual habits, but never did you think that this would be one of those.

“How am I supposed to feel safe when you are the reason for this? The reason why someone would be left wondering where their loved one has gone missing?” The irritation poisoned your speech, but the alarm wasn’t veiled by it. “He could’ve been a father, a sibling, or whatever!”

“Do you really think I didn’t take the time to snuff out every possible hindrance to this? What do you think of me?” He says, almost offendedly. Although you weren’t even sure why. As if that made it any better.

“I don’t know. My fiancé, who works diligently as an auror for the Ministry and wouldn’t do such a terrible thing?” You sarcastically reply.

“Well you got the first part right but don’t act like this wasn’t all because of you.” He points at you with that long, slender finger. It reminded you of your father’s back when he used to reprimand your mother for whatever mistake she had supposedly made.

You glare at him through your eyelashes. “Don’t twist this around, Tom.” A snarl escaped you and you could feel a twinge of anger coursing through you at his words. In your confused and irritated mind, you don’t notice how he flinches at the sound of his name. He forces himself to believe that it was just a slip of the tongue.

“I’m not. I am honestly delighted that I did such a great job, dismembering his face enough that you can’t even recognise this man.” He says as he steps over the body that lies unconscious with its limbs twisted in unnatural ways. Blood covered the canvas of his face, his eyes welled up into dark circles, and from your view, seemed to have been missing a few front teeth. “I want to say I’m sorry that I had to take away the pretty face that you were so enamoured with, but that would be a lie because I hadn’t enjoyed my time like I did while doing so.”

You finally dare to look directly at the body, at the unfortunate person who runs out of luck, and a tiny light bulb in the back of your mind sparks. Yet, you still couldn’t quite put a finger on it. By a few breaths, you calm yourself enough to continue observing the broken figure.

From the corner of your eyes, a warm golden ring hits your vision. The shape was distinct enough that your brain made quick work to make the connection.

It was like a pin dropped in the still silence.

The realisation of who it was sent you spiralling even further into the hollow space in your mind. Cowering in the darkest corner of the space.

He is leaning against the marble counter in your kitchen, where you are still within clear eyesight for him. His body was lined with tension, like a spring coiled to a point of painful traction and you were just waiting for it to snap back.

“Tom…” There it is again.

“Yes, hun?” He takes a tasteful sip of the amber liquid. Savouring the taste of every last drop. The sight honestly distracts you for a second before you forcefully pull yourself back. Horrified at the thought of being aroused when a body lies cold on your carpet.

“Is this-”

“The man from the bar?” He hums, “Yes. Yes, that is him.”

A wicked grin paints his face, cruel malevolence dancing in his eyes. The glint in his eyes flickered with genuine delight as if he was presented with a chance to show off his new toy.

“It was an easy catch, I will tell you that. I was expecting him to put up a bit of a fight seeing as he was all macho with you.” He divulges. Leisurely walking back to the living room, stopping at the person’s head, giving it a nudge with his speck clean leather shoes.

“Why did you do it?” You cut him off. Your mind was reeling at his words as an endless pit formed in your stomach. Talking about it as if it was something mundane.

But he ignores you and continues as if your words were only a gust of wind. While he expectedly should not be a fan of your blatant disregard for him, he doesn’t say a thing about it.

“I followed him the day after, tracking him for a while, noting if there was something else that would hit him harder but seeing him regularly forget he has a family by flirting with young women day and night…it was only right that I rid the world of vermin.”

“You mean to tell me that you had tortured this man to his death all because of his proclivity for cheating on his wife?”

He looks to you, and for the first time that night, a semblance of something else appears on his face. A cocktail of disdain and hatred. “Is that something not worthy of punishment? To swear your vows to a person you declared to be your love and then blatantly lie to their faces about your nightly habits. To forget that your children are waiting for you to pick them up from kindergarten so he could get his cock wet.”

Tom kept his eyes on you, his face breaking into pieces of anger and confusion. “Tell me. Is he not worthy of such when he deliberately chooses women who are half his age? All the while knowing his age gives him power over them?”

You shook your head, tears welling and blurring your vision. You blinked to keep them away as you didn’t want to appear weak in front of him. The way your emotions have dipped and hiked in the past hour has already been too much, leaving you utterly confused about what is even happening anymore.

“I don’t know anymore, Tom. I have no idea what to think, what to focus on and scorn you in particular. Your blatant disregard for our home, using it as your fucking slaughterhouse, now that we mention it, should be something to talk about. You just killed a person, no, you tortured somebody with pure malice.”

“He should’ve been hung, strangled, and quartered!” He pauses, realising his voice has turned a lot louder than he intended. “I’m sorry. But it’s true, Y/N, even if he has done nothing to you, he deserves all of those things and no less.”

His thumbs soothed over your knuckles that have turned pale from their tight clench, easing your hands until your palms are open to him. The twinge of pain from the pink crescent moons on the surface alleviated with his gentle touch.

He leans down, lips tenderly kissing the hand secured in his grasp, before twisting his head to press with the same gentleness on your other hand.

“I am well aware that you abhor these kinds of actions. It’s why I worked hard to keep it from you, I never wanted for you to think of me as some person who reverted to violence for no reason.” He kneels down next to your seated figure to level your eyes. “You are somebody special to me, and not a single word that I know of would be enough to perfectly explain that to you. Nothing in this world, in this reality, could take you away from me unless you wish it yourself. But please, I beg you to understand that I did this out of pure concern and love only.”

Tom raises one of his hands, letting it sit gingerly on your knees that, without your control, has succumbed to your habit of bouncing it in moments of tension. Pressing it with just the right balance of force and gentleness to calm you.

He swallows hard, his chestnut brown eyes flickering back and forth between your own. The previous edge in them is long gone as he looks up at you, instead, a hint of desperation takes its place.

“You love me, don’t you? I know you do and I never for a second have doubted that. I feel the same, and possibly even more than you do and it scares me. I was never made to know love nor ever experience it so when I met you, I swore that there would be nothing in existence that can forcefully keep you away from me.” He says in one breath until his body finally forces him to take one, then he continues. “When I told you how my mind and soul is yours only, I meant it. You are the sole person who can tell me that we are done but please. I will beg on my knees until they are bleeding so that you understand that.”

You finally look at him, actually, look at him. Not one of fleeting glance only. Stomach twisting.

“No law or morality will stop me.”

This is what worried you.

You were sure to tell him off. Take him up on his offer to be away from him without a hint of resistance. At least, more than halfway sure already, but those eyes. Those fucking eyes. You were worried that if you looked at them, every nerve in you that was ready to run would relax. That you would be catapulted into your foolishness, and all the right senses would be nothing.

To see that there isn’t an inkling of malicious ambition in those eyes, but instead, there was only unabashed determination and genuineness behind his words. An openness only reserved for you.

Your heart immediately starts hammering against your rib cage, and you try to resist the urge to give in to him. Forcefully diverting your mind to the monstrosity he committed in your home.

Tom sees this. He always did. He knows you better than you ever will.

“I won’t promise that this would be the last time because that would be a lie and I promised to you that that is something I will never do to you. But I can promise you that you won’t ever have to see this ever again, also because I don’t want you to.”

When he sees that you have finally cooled down, he slowly moves to sit next to you. Making sure that there is still enough space between the two of you so that you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Tom…” You call out in a meek voice. He hums, patiently waiting for you to continue.

“I get the reason why, as much as it still baffles me, but you didn’t have to go through this much.” Exhaling shakily. “You didn’t have to beat him until he saw the pyres of hell. Report him to the proper authorities for his crimes! That should’ve been the first thing that popped into your head, for Merlin’s sake!”

Your torso swivels to face him, eyes wide as you let everything out. Emotions pouring out of you in the form of tears, staining your cheeks wet again. Tom wanted nothing more than to wipe them away and pull you to his chest, but he knew that you were like this because of him and he didn’t want to push further away from him.

“Why did you have to drag him into our home? Tainting our home with this kind of violence, hell Tom! This is supposed to be where our child would be raised, where they would be spending their lives and now I don’t even know if they should be.” You shouted, waving your arms around wildly.

“They can, darling. This is the safest place they would be in, I would make sure of that. If there is anything that I will prioritise more than anything is your safety and our future kid.” He assures you.

“I don’t want them to witness these kinds of violence.”

“And they never will, just as you never will also. Tonight was an unfortunate mistake for me, one that I will never make again. And I am sorry that you had to, please forgive me.”

“I don’t know.” A murmur, one that could have been passed for a breath. But his sharp ears strained to pick it up.

He was angry. Enraged at himself. This wasn’t how he planned tonight to go, it was supposed to be an easy work and toss. He hadn’t expected you to be a part of the equation, planning the events of the night around yours to ensure that you wouldn’t have a clue of what transpired in your home.

In all fairness, it was a dangerous game that he played. Taking that piece of disgusting waste to your home was a step that he had to take so that he wouldn’t be disturbed by nosy strangers. Taking the off chance that you wouldn’t be home by then.

He was angry at himself that he had broken the unsaid promise to keep this side of him away from you. A small part of him was terrified that you would turn your back on him just as the people before you did. Taking the life that he could have only dreamt of back then with you. The thought curses away the ridiculous calm facade that he has kept when around you.

“No.” Vehemently shaking his head back and forth, dropping your hands on the softcover of your couch as he jumps up to pace in front of you. Trying to calm himself at the prospect of his worst fear turning into a reality. “I’m sorry, okay. I really am. We could move far away, build the house of our dreams and forget that this happened. But I need you to forgive me, Y/N. Please.”

To your utter surprise, he harshly drops onto his knees. Taking your hands back in his trembling hands.

“Tom.” You begin before you are cut off, “You need to stop calling me that.”

“What do you mean? That’s your name.” You confusedly ask.

“Call me darling again, call me anything but that. It’s almost as if you gave up already and that can’t happen, please. I need to know that I'm not alone in this. Please, I’m so sorry.” He says, a slight tremor in his voice.

Your heart breaks at the sight in front of you. The once strong and unwavering countenance he puts on every day was nowhere in sight. Instead, there was a man who was unknown to you, placing his vulnerable self all out for you to see. In a sense that you’ve never before seen, he was gentle to you, yes, but never like this.

Tears lined his waterline until it couldn’t be controlled anymore and they were slipping down his cheeks like a torrential downpour. He was inconsolable.

No time would be enough for you to understand the emotions twirling behind those dark eyes. Overwhelming you to the point of giving in. There was anger, pain, sorrow, and all of it. And you knew he was trying his best to control it, evident by the way his hands were tensing, not wanting to fist them.

“I’m so sorry, ok, and I know that saying it repeatedly for the rest of our days together wouldn’t be enough, but I need you to know that I am. Words are the only thing I can give you right now, however, if you let me…I would prove it to you every day in any way possible to man.”

“I’m pregnant.”

A pause in the beat of sound.

His ears were ringing.

He had no idea if time had paused and his mind was left wondering in the abyss of time if he was hearing things that weren’t true.

“I’m about three weeks pregnant already.”

It was only when your tiny voice permeated through the silent room that he realised he wasn’t being delusional. His ears had not fooled him.

“You…you are?” He asks, with hesitation lining every syllable.

“I am. I found out today which is why I came home.”

If he was confused by the torrent of emotions and thoughts that waved over him earlier, now it was like he couldn’t comprehend a single exhale anymore. It was only at your touch and call that he let his lungs feel a wave of oxygen.

“I already had my suspicions earlier this week, but I wanted to be sure before I told you, hence why I made a plan with a friend to go to the doctor today. I kept it a secret so I wouldn’t get your hopes up, I know we have been talking about it for a while now so I didn’t want it to be a false alarm.” You explain.

“So here I was, so excited when the doctor told me that I was indeed pregnant with our child that I forgot to tell you I was coming home. I assumed that you were making dinner and I wanted to make it a surprise, so I got ourselves a cake to celebrate.”

A single chuckle leaves you. “Well, obviously that didn’t go well.” You said as you looked at the box of ruined dessert by the door from when you dropped it.

Although his mind was still haywire from what you had announced, he still made an effort to let you know he was listening intently. Giving you a gentle squeeze in the hand.

“I want them to have a normal life, one that is far from the atrocities of the world and I know that is a child’s prayer, a romantic dream, but I will try my very best to achieve that. That includes taking them far away from this home, from their father, if need be.”

He looked at you as he moved to sit back next to you, keeping hold of your hand still, an unfamiliar look in his expression.

“Y/N…darling, forget what I said earlier. I would never put a hand on another person again if it meant there wouldn’t even be someone for me to do it for. I will control myself, take the sessions you told me about.” He declares, with a finality in his voice that shows his determination to prove he was being true.

It was a lie, and you knew that. A little, white lie. You’ve been with Tom since 5th year, and now you are at the age of 24, if anybody knew his body language better than anyone, it would be you.

He would only be more cautious now, making sure that every grainy detail is there in its proper places. Ensure that he would never make the mistake of making you see what he is capable of.

You look at the dormant body that has long passed in the middle of your living room. Mind reeling back to what he mentioned earlier. Now that you have calmed down, you realise that your outburst was more because of shock and less of that piece of trash. He did indeed make you uncomfortable, and if Tom hadn’t been there, you had no idea of your fate then. Added on by the fact that this was apparently a pattern he does to other women.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know what to feel at the moment after all that had happened in the span of an hour. You suppose you should be livid, upset, hell, even guilty that you’re somewhat relieved that someone had enacted an act of revenge on a disgraceful human being.

Tonight was a whirlwind of emotions, to say the least, and you couldn’t trust yourself to make a just and coherent decision.

“If-“ His breath hitches, the thought that flashed behind his eyes making him gasp for air. “If I lose control again, I will never force you to stay with me.”

“Tom, I am not asking you to do all of that. Though, it would be great for yourself and for your mental well-being because you need to find more healthy ways to deal with your problems.” You sigh. “I just ask you to please never let our child see whatever violence you inflict on others, I don’t want him to grow up thinking that this is the answer to everything. They should grow up with the proper mindset that you didn’t that I know you want also.”

“I know but I’ll still try to better myself, for myself. I can’t promise it would be fast, nor can I even promise it would work, but I’ll try.”

“I’ll go stay at an inn tonight while you deal with this-“ Waving your hand around unfashionably. “mess. I’ll call you in the morning and please?”

“What is it?” He asks.

“Take another day off because we need to look at a new house immediately, I cannot stand to breathe in another particle from this place anymore.”

“Whatever the wife wants.” He smiles and pushes a whisper of a kiss against your soft lips. “Still a few more months, Mr. Riddle. I’m tired so I'll go now. Let’s talk more tomorrow because I don’t think I can last another second staying awake.”

“I’ll drive you there, I don’t want you apparating anymore.”

“No complaints here,” You mumble against his lips that gently press onto yours. Wanting to say the three words that you loved to say but before you could,

“I love you, too.”

— hello there ! moved my notes here becuase the intro was too long. this initially had a whole back story that lead up to the events here but i cut it out because that part was taking too much time to complete. also hello, i'm finally writing for my og crush in harry potter but uh i decided to use the tom hughes fancast since this is set way after they graduated.

masterlist

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle angst #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #slytherin #tom riddle oneshot #tom marvolo riddle

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tanadrin · 2 months ago

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This is a fun paper on the arXiv: Towards the Minimum Inner Edge Distance of the Habitable Zone. In other words, given a Sunlike star, how close can we possibly get a habitable planet while gerrymandering all the other variables in our favor? The answer is about 0.4 AU, which corresponds to around 600% the insolation that the Earth receives. Toasty! You need a very dry planet, though, not only to prevent water vapor acting as a greenhouse gas, but to prevent a runaway moist greenhouse scenario. They even explore very hot atmospheres (with high pressure, to keep what water there is liquid), but note that DNA and amino acids become unstable above about 500 K.

I would have thought you would need a very thin atmosphere to reduce heat retention, but apparently if the atmosphere is too thin (<0.1 bar), the planet loses all its water in about a billion years. If pressure is too high, on the other hand, you don't get a proper water cycle (heat is too evenly distributed for precipitation to occur). But the dominant variable affecting where the inner edge of the CHZ is is really the amount of water in the atmosphere. Humidity would have to be around 1% (Earth averages 70% at sea level), and the albedo would still have to be decently high so that a good portion of solar energy was reflected back out into space. Clouds would help with that--but by the time you got enough moisture in the atmosphere to form clouds, you'd be getting enough to significantly heat the planet from water vapor acting as a greenhouse gas.

They only look at the inner edge of the CHZ because, as they point out in the introduction, in principle the outer edge can extend to infinity--a planet with sufficient internal heating from, say, the decay of radioactive elements, or tidal heating from a gas giant primary, could remain habitable even in deep space, if it had a sufficiently thick hydrogen envelope. You don't get hydrogen atmospheres around Sunlike stars because near a star solar radiation is enough to cause hydrogen to escape the upper atmosphere--which is obviously not an issue for a rogue planet.

I think in practice the hard limit for smaller stars would be further out than this, because of the tidal locking issue--slow rotators seem to be a bad fit for this kind of extremal climate. Maybe if it was a really small star, so the inner edge of the CHZ had one of those single-digit-day orbits? I kind of like that mental image: an enormous blood red sun that occupies like six and a half degrees of sky, thirteen times the size of the Sun in our own. A totally cloudless atmosphere, water confined to small patches here and there, and mostly near the poles. Because there's not enough water to properly hydrate the upper mantle, you have drip-and-plume tectonics with enormous mountainous uplands surrounded by flat sandy plains. Or even massive Mars-like uplands and huge shield volcanoes, heavily weathered by the thicker atmosphere, but still towering over the landscape. Eventually the interior of the planet may get so cold the carbon-silicate cycle stops and the atmosphere slowly leaks away, driven by the stellar wind of the close parent star.

But there are other issues with the habitability of red dwarf systems, so maybe not.

#exoplanets #conworlding #worldbuilding

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dronebiscuitbat · 2 months ago

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Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 83)

Uzi was cold.

It was a strange feeling, considering that she'd spent almost a full year at this point staving off overheating, but right now a shiver was rolling up her spine in her half-asleep state.

It was early yet, but her mate- her normal source of pleasant warmth seemed to be absent, either going off to get oil or do a protective sweep around the nest before he came back. Not that Uzi was thinking of these things, she was still solidly dazed and clumsy from waking up, and all she wanted was to bury herself in his heat.

She mumbled, tail dragging the floor as she felt around for the nearest heat source, maybe N had just rolled over and was still in the nest somewhere? Instincts guided her slowly before she felt heat waft over her and she hummed, crawling up next the source with a sigh, there he was, she wasn't even going to question why he was so far away.

She wrapped her arms and tail around him and she felt him shift, almost like he was confused, before a feminine snicker brought her closer to consciousness. Huh?

She felt an arm wrap around her, bringing her snug against pleasant warmth, by pure habit, she nuzzled into a fur lined collar with a soft smile, humming in contentment.

“G’morning to you too~” She heard, and it took half a second for her to register that it wasn't N's voice. No.

It was V's

Uzi's eyes snapped open, pushing back against V's chest as she looked up like a deer in headlights, golden eyes looked back, V having the words biggest shit eating grin that evolved into a cackle as Uzi suddenly tried to scramble away.

“V?! I thought you were- why did I!? STOP LAUGHING!” Uzi yelped, still trapped in V's grip as the dissasembler refused to let her go, Lizzy beside her, joining her in her hysterics. Uzi was blushing like mad, visor a impressive shade of neon purple.

“Let me go!” She screeched, waking up Thad from the corner with a jolt, he woke up clumsily, Tera; who had somehow made her way over to him, poked her head out from beside him.

“Why? You're the one who crawled over here to cuddle up to me.” She teased, bringing her closer into her chest with a fake contented hum, Uzi fought harder to get away, squirming like caught prey.

“I thought you were N! And you let me! You could have told me!” She whined, grumbling, trying to fight against V's iron grip was impossible, especially when V squeezed around her tighter.

“Clearly he's not giving you enough attention, don't worry, I've got you~” V began to purr, wrapping her tail around Uzi much like N had done so many times before, Uzi whined and fought a little more, but V's heat was so, so pleasant, she slowly stopped fighting, a purr starting to escape from her core in response.

“Awww, listen to you… you're enjoying this.” V's voice was sickly sweet, Uzi grumbled, blushing the hardest she had since N and her got together. Fuck! She couldn't help it! V was warm! And… actually kind of comfortable - No!

“Please let me go… this is so embarrassing…” She mumbled in defeat, a bark of a laugh escaped V, who looked like she was having the time of her life.

“Oh it's priceless is what it is.” V replied, resting her head on Uzi's own, just to rub salt in the wound.

“Absolutely~” Lizzy commented, her phone up to record it, Uzi whimpered, this was the absolute worst… she purred louder.

There was the sound of something landing outside the nest, and V glanced up with a smile. “Oh even better, we can explain it to him together.”

She wanted to perish, actually perish, oh Robo-God.

“Oh! Is everyone already… awake?” He poked his head in, starting with a beaming smile that quickly morphed into a confused one, eyes settling on Uzi and V, Uzi groaned in embarrassment.

He had three containers of oil with him, so that's where he'd gone.

“Hey N~” V hummed, still refusing to let Uzi out of her forced cuddle. He cocked his head, but thankfully didn't look too upset.

“Uh, Hey?” He replied, looking at Uzi for some sort of explanation.

“I… I thought she was you! I got cold!” She whined, and N's smile turned from confused to amused.

“Oh she nuzzled up to me and everything~” V purred, Uzi could feel V's tail wrapping up against her leg, and huffed indignantly. “I think you haven't been giving her enough attention if she came all the way over to me.”

V then, to be even more of an ass, nuzzled into Uzi's neck, which made the already embarrassed worker squeal when the silicone met her sensitive neck.

“Agh! Let me go! N! She's got me trapped! I'm not a willing participant here!” She pleaded, once again trying to fight against V's grip.

“Naww, but you're still purring~” She was, it was very audible. Still she gave N a pleading look, as if begging him to come save her.

Lizzy was still laughing, even Thad was giving a stifled chuckle, she even caught N laughing slightly, much to her irritation.

“THIS ISN'T FUNNY!” She screeched, before all the excitement finally had a consequence, pain flooded her head and she suddenly whimpered, she felt V immediately tense up around her before gently relasing her hold.

There was a beat of silence, where Uzi was squeezing the sides of her head hard, She felt N, actually N this time, wrap around her and pull her up from behind, two more warm pair of hands checked her for injuries on the front, that was probably V.

After a moment, the sudden headache passed and she was able to open her eyes, everyone surrounding her with worried looks and Tera climbing into her lap.

“You good?” She heard N ask, and she nodded, V was giving her the world's most guilty look, but Uzi sighed.

“I'm fine, I think I did it to myself by screaming…” She reassured, leaning back into N and graciously accepting a container of oil from him. He handed one to V too.

“Sorry…” V said after a moment, Lizzy leaning into her shoulder, still clearly sleepy.

“I was the one that cuddled up to you…” Uzi admitted, not quite meeting V's eyes.

“Ya'll make me feel so single…” Thad hummed, standing back from the group slightly, there was a beat of silence.

And a feral twinkle appeared in everyone's eyes.

“Wait. No…” Everyone drew closer to him, aside from Uzi, who was holding Tera, before all the nestmates dogpiled him, smothering him utterly.

“Guys! Gerroff!” It came muffled, and nobody was listening, Uzi sipped on her oil container laughing lightly, looking out the nest window, putting a hand on her daughters back, who was looking up at her curiously.

For a moment, just a moment, they could enjoy this.

Next->

#murder drones #uzi doorman #serial designation n #nuzi #biscuitbites #oil is thicker then blood #tera doorman #okay! here it is!#vuzi #kinda #she's kinda just relentlessly teasing #and uzi is embarrassed

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readerstories · 5 days ago

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Our Alpha - Poolverine x male reader

Someone was talking about A/B/O on my dash, and for some reason my brain took it, ran away with it, and came back with this fic. (AO3)

Warnings/tags: a/b/o dynamics, male reader, porn without much plot, anal, fingering, oral, knotting, friends to lovers

Wordcount: 4935

Summary: Wade and Logan accidentally trigger on of you ruts. Fuckery ensues. (Reader is about the same height as Logan and Wade, has hair, and is clean shaven. Age wise he has had ruts for more than a decade.)

When you first met Logan, you had been surprised that he’s not an alpha. All about him screams alpha, the posturing, caring, the strength. But, after Wade had explained to you that Logan came from a universe where alphas, betas, and omegas are not a thing at all, it made a lot more sense. He’s just Logan, not anything else.

Logan is a great addition to your friend group, even though he takes up a spot you had wanted for a good while, that being the one of Wade’s partner. You have known Wade for years, and he had always been in love with Vanessa, even when they had broken up. So you had long since settled for just being near Wade, and now near Wade and Logan.

Sometimes you will have movie nights over at their apartment, just the three of you. It’s almost a sweet kind of torture, being so close to them with no on else around, but you will take what you can get in just about any context.

Which is why you find yourself in front of their apartment door, ringing the doorbell, bag of snacks in hand.

When Wade opens the door, you are about to greet him like usual, but the words die on your tongue as the smell hits you.

Wade’s blood. Logan’s blood. The lingering scent of sex. Sex between Wade and Logan.

It’s not like you have never smelt any of these scents before, but they’ve never hit you all at once, and so FRESH.

They’ve clearly just come back from a job, Wade is still in a torn up suit without his mask on, Logan much the same as he steps next to Wade since he’s still just holding the door open.

“You okay?” Wade asks, worry on his face.

Your mind has stopped working, all you can clearly hear is the blood rushing in your ears. All you can feel is your gut stirring alongside your cock.

Fuck, you are going into a rut.

Your first unplanned one in about a decade.

FUCK.

“I- I- I’m sorry!” You drop the bag and turn on your heel, booking it down the hallway. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you need to get home and fucking deal with this.

How fucking embarrasing.

—---

You get home and change immediately, only putting on a loose set of pants and a t-shirt. You’ll want the clothes off soon enough, but for now you keep them on as you pace you living room, cursing yourself for being sent into a rut by your fucking crushes. You are too old for that kind of shit. You have more control than that.

Your doorbell rings. You ignore it.

There’s hard knocks on your door. You ignore it.

Your door is kicked in, this you can’t ignore, finding yourself on your feet in seconds.

You growl, feeling your canines grow as the sound spills from your open mouth. Your mouth snaps shut as Wade steps into your apartment. He has changed, he’s now wearing some grey sweatpants, sneakers, and a red hoodie.

But he clearly hasn’t showered, because he still smells like blood and sex, which is making your head swim. Logan is much the same as he follows just behind Wade, a black flannel instead of a hoodie covering his torso. He closes the door behind them both, leaning back against it, keeping some distance while Wade stands just a few steps away from you.

Omega, beta, omega, beta, protect, fuck, scent. Your rut-brain not very helpfully screams.

“You can’t go running like that and not make us think something is super wrong.” The scent of them both is maddening, and it’s only growing thicker with every second they spend it in your apartment. You swallow, clenching your hands at your sides, ignoring the urge to drag the omega Wade closer.

“Nothing is wrong.” You grit out between clenched teeth.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” Speaking of pants, you are glad you are wearing loose ones, so at least your hard cock isn’t as obvious as it feels. What is obvious however, is the scent of a rut rolling off you in waves. You wonder how Wade hasn’t noticed it yet as he keeps looking at you, for once showing that he can be patient, waiting for you to speak.

Logan notices though, taking a few deep sniffs, then pushes off the door. Your eyes snap to him, but he doesn’t return the look, grabbing Wade’s shoulder, making him look at Logan too.

“Wade, what is that smell?” He asks Wade, and your face burns. Of course Logan hasn’t actually smelt a rut before, but with his heightened senses he picks up that something has changed.

“What?” The skin where Wade’s brows should be scrunches up before he takes a few deep breaths.

Then his head whips towards you, a grin spreading over his face and delight filling up his brown and beautiful eyes.

“Someone’s going into ~rut~" Wade almost sings as he keeps grinning. You are breathing heavily, though you stutter as Wade licks his lips, and all your mind supplies you with is how good they would feel on you.

“Don’t think I’ve ever smelt that on you during the time we’ve known each other.” That had been on purpose, you always stayed away from Wade around your ruts, always able to find some excuse that never made him question it, at least not to your face. “What made that change?” Your eyes flicker between him and Logan, taking in how they are both paying full attention to you. It makes the alpha in you purr in satisfaction, you resist the urge to let the noise out, suppressing the urge to preen under their shared attention. Wade gasps, taking your looks and silence as an answer.

“Logan? Well done peanut, didn’t think you had it in you!” He turns around and squishes Logan’s face in his hands. The shifting of their attention away from you to just each other almost makes you growl, but instead of a noise out of your mouth, you manage to find a few words.

“Both of you.” Wade’s head whips around again, and he grins.

“Ohhh, greedy little alpha.” This time you let out a growl. If he’s going to be an ass about this, you rather not have him near, even as much as all your instincts are screaming at you to grab them both and show them who the alpha is. Their alpha.

“Just leave.” The words feel wrong leaving your mouth, like ash covering your tongue when all you want to feel is the heat of the men in front of you.

You blink slowly as Wade invades your personal space, throwing his arms around your neck, but he doesn’t touch anymore of your body. Your mind screams to grab his hips so you can have him fully against you, but the little self control you have left makes your arms stay at your side. His scent is strong this close, you want more of it, so you close your eyes, letting yourself at least have that. His smell is familiar to you, burnt sugar, leather, and gunpowder, all with an undercurrent of omega. Your omega.

He chuckles, fingers treading through the hair on the back of your neck.

“Come on, what would you rather do? Spend the next however many days stuck with just your own hands and a knotting fleshlight for company, or do you rather want two hot sets of hands and two hot bodies on you at all times?” Your eyes open to first look at Wade, then at Logan, who’s still standing a few steps away.

“Two? When did I get dragged into this?” He tilts his head, you see Wade grin in the corner of your eye as you and Logan look at each other.

“Like you haven’t looked and thought about it.” Logan shrugs just as a hand hooks itself under your chin, and your gaze is redirected back to Wade.

“So, what do you say?” You are not going to say anything, but you are definitely going to do something as the little control you had slips through your fingers.

You grab Wade’s hips and pull him flush against you, swallowing the little noise he lets out as you press your lips against his. They are softer than you thought, if a little bumpier than other people that you’ve kissed before. Not that anyone else matters right now, as the hand in your hair tightens as you deepen the kiss, stealing breaths as your lips move against one another.

Your tongue brushes against his lips, asking for entry, which Wade gladly gives with a little noise you try to chase with your tongue. The inside of his mouth is soft and warm, an untouched part of his skin. Your fingers push his hoodie up just enough to feel the skin on his stomach and hips while your tongue dances with his, making him let out these little gasps you take in greedily.

Wade is the one that breaks the kisses, which you make a sound at that you will forever deny is a whimper, but at least it gives you the opportunity to kiss down the side of his neck instead as your fingers press into Wade’s bare hips.

“Come on peanut, your turn.” You lick over his neck as he speaks, feeling his pulse under your tongue. You see movement in the corner of your eye, which makes you look to the side, mouth still on Wade’s neck as you see Logan step closer.

Everything about him screams alpha to your brain, your mind not all there in the warmth of your rut. The growl starts low in your chest, which makes Logan raise an impressive brow where he now stands next to you and Wade.

“No, bad dog!” Wade slaps your chest, making you stop kissing his neck, directing your attention back to his face. The growl dies in your chest, but you huff at him. “Don’t you fucking start, just smell him.” Wade reaches out and grabs Logan, yanking him close, pressing him against the side of your bodies with just a small grunt of protest from Logan. Your eyes flicker between them, the alpha in you wanting to satisfy your omega, so you move just slightly, just enough that you can push your nose against Logan’s neck while keeping your hold on Wade.

You take a deep breath in, letting Logan’s scent wash over you. He smells like he always does, pine, tobacco, and coffee, but now with a delicious add-on of sweat, blood, Wade, and sex. A noise starts up in your chest again, but this time it’s a purr as you lick over the warm skin under your mouth, drinking in Logan’s scent and taste. He startles as the first touch of your tongue, but tilts his head to the side to give you more access, and a warm hand settles on your hip.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Wade mutters, the purr in your chest just deepens as he lets out a little laugh. “I’ve always called Logan kitty because of his hair, but all along it’s been you that's the kitty.” You lean back from Logan, replacing your mouth on his neck with a hand. You lean in to kiss Wade again, but is stopped by his hand over your mouth. Your purring stops as you look at him with confusion.

“As much as I will let you ravage me anywhere in the future, let's move this to a bed?” You do not like being stopped, but the word future and all its implications you do, so you must concede that the idea of soft sheets under you is a great one.

So, you do the next logical step, letting go of them both so you can bend down and throw Wade over your shoulder. He yelps in surprise, but relaxes as you grab Logan’s hand and start to walk towards your bedroom.

“Great view from up here.” A hand grabs at your ass, which makes Logan snort behind you, and the alpha part of your brain happy with how you are doing well with your mates.

You throw Wade down on your bed, he settles after a little bounce, not having time to do anything else besides opening his legs as you crawl up onto the bed and settle between them. He grabs your hair and tries to pull you into a kiss, but your mouth descends on his neck instead.

“Oh, yeah, this was worth those many words of build up.” You roll your hips against him, your hard cock sliding deliciously against his quickly hardening one. The smart thing would have been to get both of your clothes off before getting into bed, but all you want is to be pressed close, no time for anything else.

Wade doesn’t quite seem to agree though, as his hands push at your waistband. Your main focus is on his neck, tongue licking over his textured skin, tasting the slight salt of sweat mixed with Wade’s scent, and the sweet aroma of omega. Your omega.

“Come on honey badger, little help here?” The bed dips next to you, and then there’s a second set of hands pushing at your pants. They slide down easily until they hit the bend of your knees, which you are gently encouraged to lift, one at the time. Your mouth keeps working over Wade’s neck, over what you can reach while he has his hoodie on. You pull on the collar of it, a thought forming of trying to just rip it off him, but the thought is quickly gone as hands push at your chest. You growl, not wanting to take your mouth of Wade for even a second.

You are made to do so however, as you’re yanked back by the collar of your t-shirt, which is then quickly pulled over your head. You snarl at Logan, who just throws your t-shirt to the side and raises an unimpressed brow at you. The alpha in you craves control, so grab his hair and pull him into a kiss.

He’s quick to return it, giving as good as he gets. Slightly chapped lips opening for you so willingly as your tongue presses against his lips, his own tongue meeting yours in a way that makes electricity zip down your spine. You feel your cock leak pre-cum, even though Logan’s hands are only on your shoulders.

You keep his head still with your grip in his hair, licking into his mouth between deep breaths and scenting the air. Arousal rolls of him, making him smell stronger, and more and more right by the second.

You are just about to twist sound fully and push him onto his back so you can crawl over him, your hands moving to his still clothed chest ready to do so, but you are distracted by a textured hand grasping your cock.

You break your kiss with Logan, looking down at Wade, who has during your kisses with Logan undressed fully. He’s hairless all over, all lean muscle rippling as he shifts. His legs are splayed open, his hard cock standing at attention, slick leaking slowly from between his thighs. His hand pumps your cock slowly, grinning as both of you look at him, and your mouth fills with drool as you take a few deep breaths to fill your nose with the scent of him too.

“Was starting to feel left out.” You let go of Logan, who immediately starts to unbutton his flannel as you fall back between Wade’s open legs. One of your hands slips down to his cock, giving it a few strokes, mirroring his hand on your cock. His hand not on your cock tugs at your hair, his knees pressing into the side of your hips.

“Hmmm, hey there alpha.” The title runs off Wade’s tongue so easily, it sounds so right, so your purr starts up again as you move your hand from his cock to between his legs where slick leaks out of him. His breath hitches as you slip two fingers into him, the digits sinking in with ease as he tilts his head back, putting his neck on display for you.

You lean in to kiss over it, letting teeth dance over the skin in a tease of a bite. He rocks down onto your hand as you slip a third finger inside, his hand around your cock tightening and making you grunt.

You need to get inside him soon, or this round might be over too quick for anyone's liking.

You pull your fingers out from Wade, turning your head as you hold them out towards Logan, who was just about to pull his pants off. He pauses, glances as Wade, before he looks at you. He then leans forwards as keeps eye contact with you, sliding your fingers into his mouth. He sucks and licks at your digits, tasting Wade on you, making you and Wade groan in unison. You from the tight feeling of his mouth around your fingers which makes you imagine it going elsewhere, Wade from how good Logan looks with his mouth occupied.

“Fucking hell peanut.” Logan grins, pulling off your fingers with an obscene pop. You lean on your elbows over Wade as you watch Logan take his pants off, leaving him fully nude too. He’s a lot hairier and bulkier than Wade, a beautiful contrast. He’s fully hard as well, kneeling next to you and Wade. One of his hands brushes over one of Wade’s legs where it’s pressed against your side.

You turn your head back towards Wade, leaning down and rubbing your face over his neck and shoulders, purring again. His head shifts, and then there’s the sound of kissing above you. Your purr only stutters with a growl for a second before a solid hand joins Wade’s on your cock, and guides you against Wade’s hole.

The hands fall away, and with a single thrust you are fully seated inside Wade, balls resting against him. You feel him gush around you as he moans loudly, hand in your hair tightening for a moment before it loosens.

“There you go alpha, come on.” Wade’s hands dance over your back as you lick over his neck. He’s so warm and wet around your cock, so perfect, like he was made for you. For the moment you just grind down against him, pressing him into the bed with your full weight. It traps his cock between the two of you, making him leak all over your stomachs.

Your grinding doesn’t last for long however, as you pull your hips back so you can start fucking into Wade. Small movements at first, barely moving as you keep your mouth on his neck, sucking hickeys into textured skin that disappear in seconds. It irritates part of you that it won’t stay, but part of you also is happy with the neverending space to make new marks on him.

Your head swirls with the thought of mate mate mate mate, arousal building with every second, making you speed up, and Wade moans loudly as you do so.

“Yes, yes, alpha” Wade's breath stutters at a particularly hard thrust. “Give me your knot.” You growl in satisfaction, hearing your omega beg while his hands grasps over your back is just how it should be.

“Knot?” Logan’s voice talks over Wade’s little moans and groans, and the wet sound of you filling Wade with your cock over and over again.

“Oh yeah, this is like a new sex ed for you. Rememb- AH, fuck -I told you, alpha’s has knots- shit, shit, shit- makes their dick swell and makes them stuck inside- Inside! Ah! -their partner. It’s an evolut~ion~ thing, to make it really have an opportunity to stick. I- I- I- can’t actually get kids, buT I don’t think that’s go-go-gonna stop our little greeeeeedy alpha here from try-ing!” Hearing Wade struggling to explain to Logan while you fuck him makes you grin against his skin. You shift up to kiss him, to steal his moans and grunts right out of his mouth. He clutches as you, knees pressing hard enough against your side that you are sure you are going to bruise your hips. You keep fucking into him, but push at one leg so he folds it up. Logan pushes at the other leg, making Wade fold in half underneath you. The two of you hold him in place as you pound into him, chasing your orgasm.

Another wet sound joins the cacophony of wonderful sounds in the room, which makes you stop kissing Wade and lean back a little. Wade keeps his eyes closed, and moans loudly and arches his back as soon as his lips are free. You look at Logan, who has the hand not on Wade around his own cock. You slow down your thrusts into Wade ever so minutely, making him whimper and open his eyes, looking at you first, then glancing at Logan. Wade whimpers again as you growl.

“Stop touching.” It’s the first words you’ve said during this whole thing, you don’t know if that is what makes Logan listen, or if it’s the scent of alpha you can feel rolling off you as your hips keep rolling into Wade. You know the scent is strong, especially for someone with his nose.

“Fucking hell, hot as hell, alpha, alpha!” Wade splutters, hole fluttering around your cock.

“Mine.” You growl, shifting so you can lean down and take Logan’s cock into your throat as you keep fucking into Wade. They moan in unison, making your head scream the word mine over and over and over again. Your head swims with arousal, the scent and taste of them pushing you closer and closer with each passing second.

Logan is heavy on your tongue, leaking precum as you swallow around him, tongue stroking over veins as you bob your head up and down.

Wade is moaning below you, clutching and pulling at you, each snap of your hips against him making him leak against his stomach.

Your own cock is leaking inside Wade, your precum mixing beautifully with his slick. You can feel that you’re close, so close. You need your mouth back on Wade, but you also need Logan in it. You groan around him, making your throat vibrate around his cock in your throat. One of your hands moves to grasp at his cock, pumping it as you suckle on his head.

A barely there graze of your teeth on your next suck is what sends him over the edge. His hands are in your hair, but he doesn’t push as you drink him down.

Swallowing the last remnants of his cum, you shift your focus fully to Wade. Your hands push at his thighs, mouth going to his shoulder. This time it’s not a hickey you make, instead you mark him with your teeth as your canines grow and you bite down hard enough to taste blood. It explodes over your tongue, mixing with the taste of Logan’s cum in your mouth.

“ALPHA!” Wade yells as loudly as he comes all over your stomachs. It makes him tighten around you, and you feel your own orgasm coming. Your teeth let go of his shoulder, but you keep your mouth on him to lick over the quickly healing skin.

Your orgasm hits you hard, cum pumping into Wade with each move of your hips, which soon slows as you feel your knot expand, trapping you and Wade together.

You catch your breath, panting against Wade’s neck, licking your lips as you take breaths, tasting the scent of sex in the air.

You start purring, rubbing your face against any part of Wade you can reach without jostling the two of you too much. He smells so much of you already, but you can’t help yourself. He lets out a breathless little laugh as he threads a hand through your hair, his other stroking over your back is slow motions.

“Good thing you’re clean shaven, or else I would have some serious beard burns.” You hum, feeling your brain turn a little clearer with every second that passes. You feel another hand join Wade’s on your back, and you look to your side, where Logan is sitting, legs stretched out and leaning on one hand while the other dances lightly over your sweaty skin.

Mind a little bit more with you, you shift more onto your knees, and with some careful maneuvering, you manage to get you and Wade on your sides, your back pressing against one of Logan’s outstretched legs with Wade’s around your waist. The movement causes you both to let out a little moan, which makes you want to start purring again, but you don’t for the moment.

“How long will this last?” Logan asks from above you, hand moving from you back to your hair as Wade scratches both of his down your back now.

“My knot should go down in half an hour or so.” You lean forward to catch Wade’s lips in a brief kiss. “My ruts tend to last about three days.” You look up at Logan, eye flicking to his lips, which gets the message across. He leans down and places a light kiss on your lips. You can’t help the little content hum that slips out of you. Everyone is satisfied for the moment, and it’s really hard to not start purring again, but some part of you should actually try to talk a little now that you have your non-rut brain back for a little bit. But Wade beats you to it, of course.

“We are going to need to order so much takeaway, I’m guessing you don’t have a rut stash.” His hands knead into your shoulders, wonderful pressure that makes you sigh and close your eyes.

“I don’t, I wasn’t supposed to have another one for a few more months.” You feel your cheeks heat up at the admission, but should you really be embarrassed when this has been the outcome?

“Rut stash?” Another question from above you. Oh yeah, Logan doesn’t know this, though earlier it had sounded like Wade had at least tried to explain some aspects of all of this.

“Well, when one is fucking like rabbits, you use a lot of energy peanut, and that has to come from somewhere. A fuckton of food and water mostly.” Logan’s hand in your hair massages your scalp, between him and Wade’s motions you feel almost ready to fall asleep, so it’s with great effort that you open your eyes. You tilt your head back to look at Logan, licking your lips to gather your thoughts, somehow managing to stay focused even as Wade moves forward just enough to bury his nose against your throat.

“It’s normal to have a stash since ruts tend to be somewhat regular, just like heats, though they can be triggered. For example, an alpha’s omega going into heat.”

“Wade’s not in heat though?” Logan tilts his head and Wade chuckles against your skin.

“Which is why I thought it was you that triggered the rut first, but no, our alpha is just greedy.” Hearing Wade so casually and no longer in the moment referring to you as their alpha makes your heart beat faster, and your cock leak, which in turn makes Wade let out a little satisfied groan as he clenches down on your knot. Which makes you moan again.

“It’s like a feedback loop.” Logan mutters above you, looking down to where you are trapped inside Wade, and will be for a while.

“Better to do it from behind normally, easier to spoon.” Wade says, a little breathlessly as he clenches down on you with purpose, making you growl a warning. He chuckles, booping your nose.

Logan is still looking down at where you are joined, which Wade takes notice of with a grin. So he can’t help but tease.

“Think you could take it? You might need a little more prep but…” Wade lets the words hang in the air, making both you and Logan imagine it.

Fuck, Logan on back or even on his knees, begging for your cock, begging for your knot? Knowing he would need more effort, more desperation? It makes your cock leak inside Wade, who’s breath hitches as he feels you, and then your breath hitches as you see Logan’s spent cock give a minute little twitch.

“Fuck, my beautiful little perverts.” Wade teases, making you roll your eyes, and Logan snorts out a little laugh.

“Pot calling the kettle.” Logan swats at Wade’s thigh, which makes him move, which in turn makes him clench around you again.

“Careful.” You grunt out, grabbing Logan’s hand. He grins down at you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

“No promises.” He lets go of your hand, you swat at his thigh in return.

“Go get us some water or something since we are stuck here. The two of you are going to be the death of me.” Logan rolls his eyes, but gets up anyway.

“Ohhh, that we can promise, pookie.” Wade grins, clenching around you on purpose again, making you grunt and Logan glance over his shoulder just before leaving the room.

You can hardly wait for whatever happens next.

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anyca786 · 3 days ago

Text

"SAY IT"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister &niece) poly relationship, family drama.

Series

Rhaenyra wore a beautiful black dress with hints of gold. As for the other Princess, she wore a red and black amour corset with black trousers. Her hair styled into two braids. The shiny dagger nested securely on her hips, she look fierce.

The Throne room was divided into two groups.

On one side, there were the Blacks, consisting of Daemon, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Rhaena, and Joffrey, all dressed in black and hints of red.

In the middle Baela was standing close to her grandmother. They both gave Daenys a kind smile.

The Hightowers on the left wore the color green symbolizing their loyalty towards their mother's house. Aemond couldn't help but admire her beauty, she was radiating in the crowd. He wondered what if would have been like if she was on their side.

The hush whispers ceased when the Hand, Otto Hightowe sat on the Iron Throne and spoke loud and clear, "Though It is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survives his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. On a Hand,I speak with the King's voice on this, and all other matters. The crown will now hear the petitions,' Otto announced.

Aemond almost smiled at Daenys, when they made eye contact. Instead she chose to give her a subtle nod, and Aegon on the other hand, completely ignored her. The sweet Helaena smiled at her aunt, which Daenys returned.

"Ser Vaemond Velaryon of House Velaryon," Otto called.

"My Queen. My Lord Hand," he greeted.

"The History of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind.. Our forebearers came to this new knowledge that they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name." he paused momentarily, "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin. His blood. The true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins"

Daenys glared at Vaemond, "How dare you?"

"As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,"Rhaenyra stated, "If you cared so much about the House's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition." Rhaenyra said.

"You will have a chance to make your petition, Princess Rhaenyra." Alicent interrupted. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,"

Daenys rolled her eyes,

Vaemond smiled and looked at them, specifically at Rhaenyra, "What do you know about Valyrian blood, Princesses? I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it,'

Daemon tensed and Daenys grabbed and held him in an attempt to hold him in place.

"I can show you mine, surely mine runs thicker than yours" Daenys commented.

Ignoring her true comment, he continued, "This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours," he told her before locking eyes with Lucerys, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of survival of my House and line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brothers' successor..The Lord of Driftmark. The Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond," Otto spoke once he was finished, "Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

Rhaenyra stepped forward, "If I am to grace this farce with some answer. I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago in this very-'

The doors to the throne room opened loudly banging on the stone walls for everyone to hear. Heads were turned to see King Viserys walking using only his cane to help him move.

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of his Name King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Daenys breath hitched, while Rhaenyra looked shocked. The Greens seemed disappointed and angry.

"I will sit on the throne today," Viserys said once he reached to where Otto Hightower stood.

"Your Grace." Otto Hightower said, making his way to stand beside Alicent.

When Viserys walked forward, he stumbled a bit. Daenys didn't hesitate to move forward to catch him. Daemon had joined helping him up the stairs to the throne.

His crown fell off the top of his head, clattering on the ground before him. Daemon picked it up and returned to help him sit on the chair. As the King sat panting on the throne, Daemon stood before him laying the crown on his head.

Viserys eyes softened at the pair, his brother and sister. His eyes held the words he wanted to say and Daemon understood. He gave his brother a slight squeeze on the hand before making his way back to his spot guiding Daenys to stand between Lucerys and him.

Daenys wrapped an arm around Lucerys's shoulders protectively and the boy didn't hesitate to lean in at her gesture.

Aemond's eyes narrowed at the pair.

"I must admit...my confusion," Viserys breathed, "I do not understand..why petitions are being heard..over a settled succession. The only one present...who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys' wishes..is the Princess Rhaenys. Viserys said.

With that everyone's attention turned towards Princess Rhaenys.

"Indeed your Grace," Rhaenys said stepping forward to the centre, "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed nor did my support of him"

Rhaenyra looked surprised, while Daenys smiled.

"As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena" she continued, "a proposal to which I heartily agree,".

The children exchanged happy looks.

"Well." Viserys continued, nodding in agreement. "The matter is settled, again...I cannot think of a better pairing to one day rule Driftmark throne...So I hereby affirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon...as Heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Before anyone could clap or celebrate Vaemond scoffed, "You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit Velaryon....I will not allow it."

"Allow it?" Viserys asked breathlessly, "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

Vaemond stood seething at Lucerys making Daenys shield him and glare back at Vaemond menacingly, "That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine!"

"Now, hold your tongue," Daenys snapped quite fed up.

"Lucerys is my trueborn grandson," Viserys stated, "And you ...are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

"You may run your house as you see fit,"' Vaemond snarled shaking his head. "But you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations beside." He turned directly towards the blacks, "And Gods be damned..I will not see it ended on the account of this-"

"I fucking dare you say it," Daenys stepped forward.

"Princess Daenys, mind your language in the court," Alicent tried to school her.

"My wife can speak however she sees to fit," Daemon scoffed.

"I will not see my house ended on the account of this-"

"Say it" Daemon challenged him.

Vaemond stopped to look at him and back at Viserys, "Her children... are BASTARDS!" he yelled, "And she is a whore marrying another whore"

Everyone in the room gasped. Rhaenyra was fuming with anger and Daenys looked ready to draw blood.

"I..will have your tongue for that!" Viserys yelled weakly, standing from his throne to unsheath his blade.

But in a spilt second, Daemon sliced Vaemond's head from his body, "He can keep his tongue," Daemon said rather calmly.

Daenys had a proud look on her face.

"Disarm him," Otto shouts to the guards in fear.

"No need," Daemon simply said, cleaning his sword and took his place back, beside Daenys.

"Let this be a warning to anyone who dares to question Princess Rhaenyra's claim," Daenys announced to the court.

She looked at Otto coldly, and for the first time in this long, he felt something- Fear.

Aemond stared at Daenys and Daemon in awe, while Aegon almost gagged at the scene. Sweet Helaena, covered her ears shielding away from the scene.

Suddenly Viserys started to moan in pain.

"Call the maesters!" Alicent voiced, walking up to him to help him.

"Father?" Rhaenyra asked worriedly, Daenys brows frowned, "Viserys?" Her voice surprisingly low.

"Please, my love. You must take something for the pain," Alicent coaxed.

"I will not cloud my mind," he protested, "I must put things right,"

The guards quickly helped Viserys to his chambers leaving the remaining confused.

The hearing had come to an end.

🥀

The entire room was candlelit beautifully.

The three dragons looked powerful and united wearing shades of black and red of the House Targaryen.

"Do we have to attend this?" Lucerys complained.

The greens were already present. Alicent, Otto, Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond sat at the opposite side of the table while the other side was filled with empty seats.

Aemond eyes soften seeing his aunt Daenys.

Daenys didn't say anything but nodded in Aemond's and Helaena's direction before looking at Alicent " Alicent," she greeted simply out of politeness and before Alicent could say anything the Targaryen had looked at Helaena and smiled, "Helaena - it's lovely to see you, my dear," Daenys said, her crystal purple eyes holding a fondness for the shy Princess.

She then turns to Aemond, "Aemond," she acknowledged him with smile which he returned. When Daenys was about to sit near Aemond-

"My love, come this way" Rhaenyra asked her to sit with Daemon and her.

Everyone sat down in silence while the children were talking amongst one another. Helena joined in with the chatter all except Aegon who was already drinking and Aemond refusing to associate with the Velaryon boys.

Daemon occasionally kissed Daenys hands, while having small talks with his other wife.

The doors slowly opened to reveal Viserys being carried in on his chair. Everyone stood up from their seats.

"How good it is...to see you all tonight, together," Viserys said wistfully. He looked at his daughter, Rhaenyra and then towards his siblings.

The two women shared a soft smile and it was clear that the favoritism was there. Alicent's children have never come close to the love he shared toward his daughter and sister.

"Prayers before we begin?" Alicent asked, leaning towards Viserys a bit to get his attention.

"Yes," Viserys agreed.

"May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long," Alicent clasped her hands together tightly, "And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest"

Daemon and Daenys wore brief smirks on their faces at the thought of Vaemond.

They all continued their small talks, Aemond's eyes refusing to leave Daenys, which did not go unnoticed by Daemon.

Viserys stood, "It both gladdens my heart, and fills me with sorrow...to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world...yet grown so distant from each other in the years past," Viserys said, then proceeded by taking off his golden mask for the first time, allowing to see how ill and sickly he had become, "My own face...is no longer a handsome one..if indeed it ever was." he said, looking at each person in the room,Daenys looked at him without tearing her eyes away, she didn't seem fazed by his appearance but more by the fact that he was dying slowly.

"Tonight... wish for you to see me...as I am. Not just as a King, but your father..your brother..your husband..and your grandsire who may not it seems... walk for much longer among you," A statement so true.

"Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances if not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly." Viserys said, before sitting back down.

Rhaenyra got up next, moved by her father's words and raised her glass, "I wish to raise my cup, to Her Grace, the Queen." she said looking at Alicent, who was finishing helping Viserys with putting his mask back on, "I love my father, but I must admit that no one has stood..more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him..with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude. And my apology."

"Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess," Alicent responded to Rhaenyra. "We are all mothers...and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow," she said before rising from her seat. "I raise my cup to you and your House. You will make a fine Queen."

Everyone raised their glasses and had the wine. Aegon gulped the wine in one go, and stood up from his seat, walking over to Baela.

He offered her wine and whispered something that made Jacaerys angrily stand up, Aemond got up in defence as well.

Daenys gave Jacaerys a look, telling him to not engage.

"To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but we have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles." Jacaerys said with a raised glass.

"To you as well' Aegon said almost defeated which earned a smirk from Rhaena and Lucerys.

"Well done my boy," Viserys praised, showering his grandson with affection.

"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena," Helaena said as she got up. "They'll be married soon, it isn't so bad, mostly he just ignores you...except sometimes when he's drunk."

Daemon chuckled at this, and so did Otto who said," Good" to his granddaughter.

"Let us have some music," Viserys said, and the small band played a folk tune.

Jacaerys offered to dance with Helaena which made Daenys smile delightedly. She was happy seeing Helaena smile, she never does whenever she was around Aegon, it seemed.

Daenys felt a tap on the shoulder to see Aemond holding out his hand to her,"Would you be kind to grant me a dance, dear Aunt?"

"I've only just started eating Aemond," Daenys replied, but the pleading look in his eyes made her falter. Suddenly she was brought back to the better days when he was just a child.

Daemon looked ready to speak but it was Rhaenyra's hand that told him to stand down.

That didn't stop Rhaenyra's suspicion but gave a nod of approval. She wished to have no fights during this dinner.

Daenys stood up and placed her hand on Aemond's, letting him guide her to the floor where Jacaerys and Helaena were dancing.

Rhaenyra and Alicent returned to the conversation like old times. Daemon would merely listen and make small talk with his brother while keeping a close eye on Daenys.

"It's been years since we've talked," Aemond said, leading his aunt to the floor. Daenys gave him a look of regret and shrugged, "A part of me is to blame I admit." she acknowledged.

"I missed you," Aemond admitted this time. "It's been terrible all alone with no one that understands me,"

Daenys was out of words, all she could say was, "I'm sorry, Aemond. Perhaps if things would have been different,"

Aemond remembers the first and the last time they had fun together. He remembered riding their dragons till the sunset. He remembered how he poured his feelings out to Daenys and how she told him, "I'll always be there for you". He felt loved and wanted that day.

"Excuse me," Daenys goes back to her seat and so did Aemond with a heavy heart still longing for his aunt. Eventually laughter feels the room. Daenys starts digging into her food again, while Rhaenyra made her laugh at something.

But then there was a loud bang at the table which made Daenys instinctively grab Daemon's hand.

She looked up to see Aemond had punched the table with all his strength, causing the plates and almost everyone's cups to knock over.

"Final tribute," Aemond said and Daenys's stomach dropped. "To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them is handsome, wise,...strong."

"Aemond," Alicent attempts to stop him.

"Come, let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys," he continued, emphasizing the word "Strong"

Aemond toasts, and Jacaerys steps toward him,"Dare you to say it again," Jacaerys dared him.

Aemond was amused to think Jace could beat him.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment," Aemond says, and both boys make their way toward each other.

Jacaerys did not hesitate to punch Aemond however it didn't phase him. Daenys attention pulled away from him when she saw Luke stand up from the chair, Aegon did the same and slammed Luke into the table and held his head and neck down.

"Aemond! Aegon!" She moved towards Aegon and Lucerys, "Get your hands off them," she commanded.

Aegon tried to hit Daenys in response, but Daemon warned him, "Get the fuck away from my wife,"

Alicent grabbed Aemond's arm, "Why would you say such a thing before these people?" her voice low but admonished.

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, mother. Though it seems my nephews aren't quite proud of theirs," Aemond provoked making Jacaerys break loose and charged at him again.

Daemon placed himself in the middle of the chaos. His eyes are now cast at Aemond wearing an amused look and let out a contented sigh while Aemond merely glared at him.

By now Rhaenyra ordered the four of the eldest children, "Go to your quarters, all of you". Daenys made her way over to Rhaenyra to see if she was alright.

Daenys gave Aemond disappointed look. Aemond let out a long exhale and walked past Daemon.

Daemon watched Aemond leave in scrutiny.

Meanwhile, the three women shared a conversation, "It's best, I think, if we go back to Dragonstone," Rhaenyra stated, it was clear that after what happened it was best to leave.

"Both of you only just arrived." Alicent's eyes flashed in despair. She takes their hands in hers. She missed Rhaenyra and Daenys.

"We will see the children home and we'll return on Dragonback" Daenys said.

The Queen tearfully smiled, holding their hands tightly. "The King and I would both like that."

The Queen, Heir, and Princess shared a smile for once feeling like they are finally getting somewhere. Except it was only the calm before the storm.

A/N: We are heading towards the end of Season 1😭

#tumblr #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen x reader #hotd daemon #hotd #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targaryen #house targaryen #x reader #rhaenyra targeryan

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pursuitseternal · 9 months ago

Text

“Dark Kissing:” 🫦 nsfw, making a Vampire Bride in “Our Blood is Thicker:”

(Ascended) Astarion x Cordehlia (Tav) | E | 2.6K of the Nsfw Dark Kiss

Art by co-creator and illustrator @marimosalad , NSFW version on X

Summary: Cordehelia rouses herself to feed, but the Dark Kiss is far more dangerous than merely awakening. She must be checked, subdued, brought under control by her love and creator by any means necessary

CW: Rough Sex turns Romantic, blood kink, hair pulling, Feral Vampires getting freaky, The Knee™️, (lovingly) Dom!Ascended Astarion, my interpretation of Van Richten’s “Guide to Vampires” 2e, heartbeat kink, nothing like feral sex followed by soft cuddling aftercare

Previous Ch | ao3 Link | Masterlist

Chapter 19: Dark Kissing…

🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦💞🫦

“Astarion…” she purred, voice thickened with his blood, a bit strange on her tongue, as if she savored every letter in his name.

But that strangeness hardly registered, his body winding tight with lust as he looked into her own crimson eyes, as her lips drank him down for the first time. He could feel himself inside her, coursing in her veins, pumping in her whole body, not just that sweet, slick channel he longed to fuck into once more. Something deep inside him unlocked, robust and powerful and all consuming.

Blood ran down her chin, a sight that made his every breath race from his slack-mouthed, fang-licking grin. Her lips were cool on his wrist, warming hotter the more of him she drank. “Oh, my love,” he groaned, slinking to straddle her prone body between his thighs. “I could watch you swallow me down for hours…”

“You have, my love,” she chuckled, thick and deep in her chest as she hardly broke from his flesh.

A flash filled his mind, stronger than their tadpoles, their bodies and minds and souls as one. It was as if he relived every time she had sucked his cock, tasting himself on her tongue, feeling the way her throat closed with all the cum he spewed countless times over countless years. Instantly, his cock strained again against his leathers, that claustrophobic feeling of clothing suffocating his ever-growing desire.

His need to have her.

And yet she drank more. Until his skin began to tear, his head growing slightly light. “Enough, Cordehlia,” he whispered, a grind of his hips above her, his wrist freeing from her mouth.

Only to be ripped back by her fiercely strong grip once more. “But you taste so good, my love,” she crooned, “and I am just so hungry.”

Astarion recalled all that reading, gritting his teeth as he pulled against her, fought against the way both her hands clawed into his arm. “You will listen to me,” he ordered. Louder. “You must stop, or else you will die.”

Her voice made him shiver, unnatural and dark. “I think that’s already happened, hasn’t it?” One last musical laugh from her bloodstained lips, and she sank her newborn fangs into his forearm to feed all the more.

A growl on his lips, Astarion dug deep into whatever new well of power, of strength lay inside him. Never mind the way his heart actually began to rap harder in his chest, in lust and in fear. “You will listen to me, Cordehlia,” he hissed through clenched fangs. Wrestling his arm from her mouth, he felt every muscle in her body move to attack, ready to spring. Wanting more. “Ah, ah,” he smiled, darkly, determinedly. Catching her hands, he pinned them over her head, staying them with all the strength he could find, even as she thrashed and kicked and snapped her teeth. “Little Raven, I promised you I would save you, now you have to trust me just a little further. You are still being remade, turning into something so beautiful, so fierce I can hardly believe it. Why don’t we try a little something else to busy your lips and tongue with, hmm?”

A roar from her mouth, she bucked him off, sending him clean off the bed. Astarion braced himself against the wall, feeling less dizzy and stronger the less she drank. Somehow, his body knew what to do, more than that which was just between lovers. He knew he had to subdue her, keep her safe, lest she endanger herself.

A duck of his head, and he dove out of her tackle. Wild and crazed with bloodlust, she might be, but all that grace was yet to come back to her. He gripped her by the back of her shirt, his fingers easily tearing through that linen, baring her even paler flesh for him to see at last. “Come on, Cordehlia,” he laughed as she turned, eyes narrowed and breasts heaving with her pants, “you used to put up a better fight as a girl.”

Yes…. She took the bait, racing for him blindly, only to be shoved from behind and laid flat out on the floor at the foot of the bed. She froze for that moment, wind knocked out of her, even though her undead lungs required none of that now. He needed to finish this, needed to subdue her in more than one way. His hands ran down her back, lightly tracing over the bumps of her spine. “I’m going to strip you, my darling, going to take your mind off that pit in your stomach. You hunger, and I can sense how painful it is, my love. Let me ease that pain.”

“Want me… to say please?” She panted, breathless as she gasped for air.

“If you’d like, my darling…” he wasted no second of his advantage, shimmying down her trousers, ripping them like paper with such ease in his new and powerful hands.

“Fuck you, Astarion,” she grunted trying to get up, but he just covered her backside with his whole body and grabbed for her hands again to capture them against the floor.

“That is the idea, my love,” he tried to chuckle, the same jibe as they had made many times before. But never like this. Never with every instinct in his ascendant brain screaming at him to claim her and finish the task at hand. He settled heavily on her back, pushing her as hard as he could into the ground to keep her steady, her two cold hands in one of his, he tugged off his shirt and freeded the laces of his breeches.

But for all the pounding drumming in his head that could have blinded him, he looked down at her. Pinned, subdued, ready and panting and sweating.

He didn’t see some creation half-made. Didn’t see a servant or slave for his use.

It was her, addled and unsure and newborn. Lusty and scared. And he tried to slow that reborn and foreign beating in his chest.

“Cordehlia,” he leaned forward, tracing the pad of his tongue up her chilled, pointed ear. “My sweet, I’ve got you.”

Still she fought, twitching and jerking under his hold, but his hands rested on each of hers to slide them next to that mess of fiery red hair. He could see her breathing so hard as her skin pulled between her ribs. She needed calming, claiming… he suckled on that cool right ear, forcing the urge to bite into her flesh again back into his stomach. Something inside her purred, her voice maybe, her soul perhaps. But whatever it was, he did it again. And again. Suckling on the edges of her ear as it twitched. Feeling her flesh mildly warm now with his blood flooding her and her lust taking command.

Her breathing grew softer, steadier and less frantic, he sensed her rising heat, smelled the way slick began to gather between her folds. His cock jolted to feel her begin to buck beneath him, almost grinding against the floor as her hunger traveled below her belly to simmer lower and stronger. Shifting carefully if quickly, his knees spread her wider, his sharp ears hearing her arousal dripping to the wood beneath them.

The way she raised her hips ever so slightly as he slipped between her thighs drew some kind of noise from his throat. Feral. Hungry. He loved it, laying his whole length down to cover her head to toe. Her skin was cold, a strange shiver raced down his spine as he pressed her into the floor. As he pushed her apart, letting his cock slip in so naturally, so slowly, finding that wet and tight warmth he craved more than air.

A low purr seemed to sound from her, her back arching against his chest. She hissed, a little roll of her hips, pleading for more of him. raising herself against him, she wriggled his cock deeper, bracing for his thrusts to begin. “Please, Astarion,” she breathed, voice honey-thick in her throat, “you wouldn’t leave your Bride unsatisfied, would you?”

Bride. At the word, he groaned loudly, fangs wet as he smiled, shoving his cock deeper inside as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. “Never, my darling,” he rasped. Another guttural noise, and he released one hand from hers, wrapping that length of bright fiery hair around his hand once… twice, and yanking her head back slightly. “You are mine forever now, my love until the stars fall down.”

Warm lips pressed against the cool ivory of her neck, careful to keep his teeth covered, lest he stir awake her bloodlust again. But Cordehlia wasted no time, slamming and wriggling her cunt against his cock, easing forward to easy back again.

A hiss rushed from his mouth against her skin each time she dared to move. Finally, he rocked into her ever so slightly, letting his cock sink all the way into her, letting that aching, pulsing head brush against that edge of her channel. Curling, she snapped her hips hard against him, stealing his breath.

Another snap, and he groaned, that insatiable hunger for her growing unbearable. That reality of his freedom, his power starting to course in his veins as she bucked back against him with even more fervor. “You’re an eager little thing,” he sighed, running his tongue over the scars on her neck, taking her ear into the warm, wet of his mouth once more. “I like you this eager,” whispering, he savored the way she shuddered beneath him.

“Then give me some of your own eagerness back, won’t you? I would hate to do all the work for you… my lord…”

Enough of coyness and carefulness he decided as he grasped her head, pulling her mouth to his to assume control. He needed her on his tongue again, needed to devour and consume and dance with her lips as they had a thousand times. “I love you,” his words breathed between her lips as he sucked more of her with each kiss. “I never want to do this with anyone but you ever again.”

A wish he had made once, so long ago under the elven forest and stars.

He could almost smell the woods near their homes, almost hear that babbling stream and feel the moss beneath them as every sinew sought the release they both craved. Thrust after thrust, he could feel her pressure rising, the way her thighs began to shake, her mouth panting and sighing heavily against his open lips. He could taste himself on her tongue yet, that rich iron, that tingling sensation of power, the same that raced down his nerves… and just like that, he knew she was about to seek more of him.

Drink more of him.

A yank of her hair in that fist, and he pulled her off his flesh just as her own razor-fangs snapped shut. “Tch, naughty, my bride,” he teased. A trail of caresses down her spine, and he raised himself. One hand rested on her shoulders, hair tugged just tight enough, he slipped his warming touch around her hips. Her clit was hard, aching and easy to find, and it was so simple to circle it. To make her moan for him, to raise her ass up just that little bit higher and take him all the deeper. To angle himself as he slammed into that spot inside that he knew better than she did herself.

He chewed into his own lip, clenching hard but not to draw blood. No, he needed her sated. Pleasured. Flooded with the bliss they shared now.

Lord and Bride.

Maker and beautiful creation.

Her pleasure tore into him, every muscle that clenched around him pounded as if his own. Her voice cried his name, that she loved him… her sweet words panted over and over again as she crumbled to the floor, boneless, bloodless, hot, and writhing.

Slowly, he pulled out, turning her on her back, longing more than anything to see her smile. Radiant, breathtaking, her breasts heaved as she caught her wind, her hair streaked over her damp and sweating face, and most beautifully, she smiled at him through her bliss. Her little fangs peeked beneath her rosy lips, her tongue wetting her mouth as she pulled those fiery, loose strands from her cheeks and chin.

Reverently, his own hands helped to clear her forehead, strand by precious strand. Laying his body atop hers, a groan slipped from his lips as she raised her hips to slot his cock back into her seeping, wet folds. He breathed her name, believing for the first time that she was with him again, saved.

Now made of one flesh.

Sharing one blood.

A blood that ran hot and thick forever between them.

He couldn’t hold her close enough, couldn’t thrust into her smoothly or deeply enough. He couldn’t taste enough of her on his tongue or feel her slightly chilled breath sweep into his own lung in any amount that would satisfy. His fingers gripped against the back of her head, weaving tightly again into that mess of her locks, the other wrapped firmly around her breast, the hard, cool nipple pressing into his palm like stone as he gripped it, as it swayed in time with his taking of her.

That tether between their bodies, that bond between their minds, something within them snapped taut, his heart beating in her chest, his very essence hers too. Every sensation between their bodies doubled, coursing harder as he drove her to the edge of her climax, thrown there himself as her side. She clawed at his back of ancient scars, body arching and trembling as she groaned her love for him again.

And this time, he followed, pouring every last bit of himself into her, making and remaking her anew. His cock shuddered, jolt after jolt of pleasure bursting from his core into hers. Seed seeped, hot and slick and mixed into one as he lowered himself into her arms.

Nestled into that bloodied crook of her neck, he could do nothing but breathe, forcing his eyes to remain open, to assure himself that this was it. That it was done.

That every little bit of trust she had put in him was replaced tenfold. And would be repaid again for the rest of their immortal lives.

Touch ghosting up and down his back, she smiled against his forehead, lips pressing their strange, cool kiss just beneath the edge of his curls. “I love you…” she whispered, almost imperceptible. Almost inside her own mind.

With a grunt of effort, he slipped from inside her, a tender kiss on her lips before he reached up and over the top of the bed to grab for the blood red covers. The heavy fabric fluttered as he draped it over them both, as his hands tucked it around her shoulders, her back. “I love you, my darling…” he kissed her cheek, “my consort…” he kissed her forehead before staring softly into those searching, crimson eyes, “…my bride.”

Astarion pulled her into his chest, rolling her to rest against his warm flesh and racing heart. “Rest, my love, we have eternity to make up for lost time now.”

His hands traced through the softness of the blanket, and his warmth seeped into her skin. She wouldn’t let it out from her lips just yet, how strange it was now to be the one corpse-cold, to be the lover to seek the warmth of her love. But as she nuzzled closer into that perfect dip in the muscles of his chest, she smiled.

A tear leaked from her eye.

To hear that ancient pattern of his heart beating beneath her ear again.

203 notes · View notes

whimsimille · 6 months ago

Text

THICKER THAN BLOOD

Chapter 2: "Come home to me, darling."

(Jeong Jin-Man x fem! reader)

"Why are you leaving so suddenly?" You questioned, your voice bouncing off the tapestry that adorned the living room wall of your quaint shared apartment and the oak bookshelves filled with classics.

The comforting aroma of a simmering homemade tomato sauce filled the air, mingling with the sound of sizzling pans and the rhythmic chopping of crisp, fresh vegetables on the polished granite kitchen countertop.

Dressed in a worn-out apricot apron adorned with faded sunflower prints, your hands were occupied with diligently kneading the carefully prepared pasta dough for your dinner, a recipe passed down from your Italian grandmother.

All of a sudden, the living room's normal sounds—the soft purr of Gunpowder, his gray cat curled up on the plush Persian rug, the low drone of the television playing the evening news—were replaced by an eerie silence that made your skin crawl.

On turning, you noticed Honda in the midst of rushing preparations for departure. He was hunched over the suede couch, lacing up his sturdy boots, his face etched with stern concentration. Against the dimly lit backdrop of the room, his figure blended seamlessly, rendering him no more than a transient silhouette.

"Where exactly are you off to? And what's the urgency?" You signed, your hands dancing in the air while you leaned against the wooden door frame. A knot of unease formed in the pit of your stomach at the sight of his hasty departure.

His gaze met yours, a small, reassuring smile playing on his lips as he signed back, "I have to go. Jin-Man needs me. I can't disclose more for your safety. You know how it works."

He continued to pack his bag—a small duffel made of worn leather with patches on the corners and straps slung over one shoulder. As he did so, you caught sight of an old photograph falling out of the side pocket; it was of you both from what looked like a summer festival years ago, grinning widely under colorful umbrellas while balloons swelled around you both.

"But can't it wait until tomorrow? Is it really necessary to depart on the day that we get back together after several months?

The worn-out leather of the couch groaned under his weight as he rose, his tall figure casting a long shadow against the faded brown wallpaper.

Moving towards you, he avoided the cluttered coffee table littered with dog-eared magazines and discarded newspapers. His leather jacket, draped over the back of a nearby armchair, was quickly pulled on, the rusted zipper scraping against the silence of the room.

"No, it can't wait. But I'll be back in time for dinner. I promise." Even as he used a gentle swipe of his thumb to remove a stray splotch of tomato sauce from your cheek, his smile never left his face. “When I return, we can lounge on the couch, munching on popcorn and be engrossed in those old Hollywood classics you're so fond of. You can also show me your progress with that hacking project you've been working on. Maybe try not to fry the motherboard this time?"

"First of all, you better keep that promise. Second, I’ll hold you to it. Third, for your information, that was a one-time thing!"

"First, I will. It's a promise. And second, I remember it being a three-time thing." He chuckled, his laughter warm like a summer's day.

"Shut up. But tell me, why the secrecy? Why can't you share what's happening? Jin-Man usually keeps me in the loop when a mission comes up.”

Despite your persistent questioning, Honda remained resolute, his face as unreadable as a closed book. He gently loosened your grip on his arm. "Stop nagging me like Mama would. I can't divulge any details. It's not safe. But I need to go. Jin-Man needs me. Don’t you have any government sites to hack? Or do you plan on crashing our systems again?"

"Stop it, douchebag. You're being reckless. We need to tread with caution, especially now more than ever. You know that. And that was not my fault; their security was just… upgraded."

However, he simply shook his head as he smiled at your pout, pulling you into a warm embrace. The cold, hard metal of his brass knuckles, concealed in his pocket, pressed against your side. A chilling reminder of the danger that lay ahead. Yet you refrained from voicing your fears, choosing instead to hold him tight, the rhythm of your heartbeats synchronizing.

"Alright," you conceded, swallowing your protests, "at least take some food with you." Gesturing towards a Tupperware container on the table, filled with steaming eggs and a side of kimchi jeon—both staple dishes in your shared meals.

His eyes softened at your concern, and he took the offered container, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead before making his way towards the entrance.

As he neared the door, a rush of childhood memories invaded your mind. Sometimes you stayed up late whispering secrets under the covers; sometimes you felt his pain even when he was miles away, and sometimes you both fell off your bikes and ended up in the emergency room with scraped knees. They dubbed it the twin instinct, but to you, it was a lifeline, a warning system that alerted you when Honda was in danger.

"Honda, wait!" You called out, your voice echoing off the creaking wooden floorboards.

The desperation in your plea stirred Gunpowder from her sleep, her tail twitching softly against the worn-out rug as though caught in a dream of chasing unseen mice. Honda turned, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes questioning in the pale afternoon light filtering through the gaps in the old blinds.

A knot of guilt twisted in the pit of your stomach, threatening to crawl out through your lips and fill the room with its bitter taste.

The two of you were caught in a moment where petty bickering had canceled all the plans you had carefully added to your shared agenda. Your hands, once intertwined in unity, had become unglued from one another, your fingers now tangled in the strands of hair sprouting from your head. The hateful words you once spat at each other—words that had plunged through the gaps of your milk teeth—had turned into a somber reality. It suddenly seemed oddly appealing to consider dying in order to keep him around.

"I...I love you, brother," you admitted, the words feeling foreign yet so right. It was something you should have said a long time ago, after your parents' deaths, when it was just the two of you against the world. But you had always been afraid—afraid that admitting your fears would make them real.

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he nodded, an unspoken understanding passing between you two. "I love you too, sis," he signed before stepping out into the afternoon, leaving you in the silence of the empty apartment.

While life in the apartment carried on around you—the stove still burning, the TV blaring the evening news, Gunpowder curling around your ankles, licking your calves—you felt tears springing up in your eyes as your thoughts raced.

Come home, Honda. Come home and tell me everything about your day, from the way the sun glinted off the skyscrapers to the way the coffee tasted at your favorite café. Come home and argue with me again, about trivial things like who left the lights on or whose turn it was to do the dishes. Slam your bedroom door like you used to when we were teenagers and stomp around the house in Dad's old boots.

Come home and laugh with me, share those terrible inside jokes that only we understand. Handle your knife in the wrong way, the way you used to when you're not on a mission, when you're just my brother and not a covert operative.

Come home and hold me again while I cry in your lap about the girls and boys that shattered my heart. Come home to fix the TV you always mess up with those greasy fingers of yours, leaving stains on the remote.

Scream at me if you need to; let out all that pent-up frustration that I know you keep bottled up inside.

Come home and tell me how you always manage to burn the pasta, making it stick to the pots. Come home and let me nag about your messiness, about the dirty socks you always leave on the floor and about the dishes in the sink.

But most importantly:

“Come home safe. Come home to me, Honda. Please."

2 months later

Late afternoon light filtered through the window, casting elongated, capering shadows across the glossy surface of your living room's hardwood floor.

Finally, after a whole day cleaning the place and trying to make it more child friendly, you were curled up in the embrace of the vintage couch and a soft, threadbare blanket, a relic from your childhood, was wrapped snugly around you, providing a comforting barrier against the creeping chill.

You idly stroked Gunpowder, who was as much a part of the family as any human member. Her fur was coarse, yet soothing under your fingertips.

Gunpowder was the only other living being that missed Honda as much as you did; her amber eyes held a profound sadness that echoed your own. You were grateful that Jin-Man let you take her from the animal shelter.

She didn't deserve to be alone, not when she had already lost so much.

With the monochrome scenes flickering against the brick wall, the contemporary television set in the room's corner was showing Casablanca.

Nonetheless, your mind was elsewhere, lost in a world of thought, meandering through a labyrinth of candid memories as your eyes were glued to the window, drinking in the expanse of the verdant family farm outside.

In your hands was your favorite cat mug, the one with the chipped ear and faded paint, a sentimental relic from your college days.

It was unusually quiet, the usual cacophony of farm life replaced by the relentless drumming of rain.

Not only was Ji-An nowhere to be seen, but Jin-Man's rusty truck had vanished from its customary location beside the red barn.

A glance at the old, ticking clock hanging on the wall—16:00, way past the time Ji-An usually got home from school—made your anxiety spike.

Just as you were about to pull on your trusty yellow raincoat to go look for her, you saw Jin-Man's truck pulling up the gravel driveway. He got out of the truck, his jacket hanging haphazardly off his broad shoulders, and his jaw clenched in a way that set off alarm bells in your head.

You quickly signed , "Hey! Old man! Good afternoon to you too! Where's Ji-An?" as he stomped past you, heading straight to his office. But he didn't answer; he didn't even spare you a glance.

Following him, you tried to make sense of what was happening, but he closed the office door right in your face. You were left standing there, frustration bubbling up inside you, a sense of foreboding making your heart pound in your chest.

As you paced around the living room, worry gnawing at you, the front door creaked open. Your heart leapt at the sound, and you turned around, expecting to see Ji-An, safe and sound.

But what you saw made your heart drop.

Ji-An walked in, soaked to the bone and covered in mud, carrying her pink backpack—the one her mother had bought for her last Christmas. Her uniform was clinging to her small frame, her hair plastered to her forehead, but she didn't make a sound. Not a sob, not a whimper.

Seeing her, you rushed over, dropping onto your knees to be at her level. "Ji-An, sweetheart, what happened? Why didn't you come home with Uncle Jin-Man?" you asked. A flutter of panic seized you as she remained silent, her eyes downcast. "Did something happen at school? You can tell me. I'm here for you."

“I need a bath, Noona. I don't want to talk about it right now. Is that okay?”

You looked at her for a long moment, the sight of her shivering form causing a lump to form in your throat. Her hair, previously neatly braided, was now a mess; the ties you had made for her earlier that morning were nowhere to be found.

"Yeah… Of course, baby," you reassured her, offering a weak smile.

With a sigh, you slowly rose to your feet and gently took her hand, leading her to the bedroom. You could feel her fingers tremble slightly in your grasp, her small hand cold and damp from the rain.

You then went to the bathroom to prepare a warm bath for her. You quickly grabbed a fresh set of clothes for her—a soft purple cotton t-shirt and a pair of comfortable cartoon pants that had cute little teddy bears printed on them. You placed them neatly on the bathroom counter, within her reach.

Once the bathtub was filled with warm water and a generous amount of bubble bath, you helped her undress the wet clothes sticking to her skin.

While Ji-An enjoyed her warm bath, Gunpowder sat in front of the bathtub. Her amber eyes were focused on the bubbles, her tail twitching with curiosity. Every now and then, she would bat at a stray bubble, her paw slicing through the air with a fluid motion as if it were a game.

With Ji-An safely in the bath and the clothes inside the washing machine, you then went to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner. Using cookie cutters, you shaped the food into fun shapes—a star-shaped sandwich, fruit cut into the shape of animals, a bowl of soup with alphabet pasta. You even managed to make a small salad; the vegetables were bright and colorful. It was a small gesture, but you hoped it would bring a smile to Ji-An's face.

Throughout the days you've been living in this place, you've tried countless times to make Jin-Man and Ji-An eat at the same place, to share a meal like a family. But Jin-Man always avoided you and Ji-An like you were viruses, always eating small things before burying himself on the couch while watching movies all alone or in his office working with Pasin. It was frustrating to see the distance between them, but then again, it wasn't your job to force conversations and lovey dovey moments.

Once the food was ready, you set the table and then sat down in front of Ji-An, waiting for her to finish her bath. She emerged a while later, her hair damp and her cheeks flushed from the warm water.

Gunpowder, having finished her bubble play, twined around Ji-An’s legs as the child sat at the table. You both sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the gentle hum of the washing machine and the occasional clink of cutlery against plates.

Then, to your surprise, Ji-An was the one to break the silence.

"Today, I waited for Uncle Jin-Man to come and pick me up from school. But he was late, and it started to rain. I decided to walk home instead."

You watched as she continued to sign, her hands moving with a quiet determination. " I was walking in the rain when I saw Uncle Jin-Man's truck. He slowed down, but I didn't want to get in. I was upset with him. So, I continued to walk, even though it was raining hard. Uncle Jin-Man stopped and waited for me to get in, but I didn't."

“I wanted him to come out and apologize, to tell me he was sorry for being late. But he just accelerated and went away. I was so angry, Noona. I wanted him to understand how I felt and how it felt to be forgotten."

"It's okay, baby. It's okay to feel upset. But remember, your uncle loves you very much. Sometimes, adults make mistakes too."

Shortly after dinner, you decided it was time for Ji-An to learn a new task: cleaning the dishes.

Filling the sink with warm, sudsy water, you showed her how to hold the scrub brush and guided her hand to clean the surface of the plates with gentle but firm strokes. You made sure she understood the importance of removing all leftover bits of food and how to rinse each dish thoroughly under the running water.

"Remember, Ji-An, cleaning is also a part of cooking. Once you're done eating, always make sure to clean up after yourself. It's not just about keeping your area clean, but also about respecting the people who will use the kitchen after you. See, we're not just cleaning up our mess; we're also preparing a clean space for the next person, " you signed, watching as she absorbed your words and continued washing the plates carefully under your watchful eye.

When you were done and completed with the task, you noticed that the sky had completely darkened, the bright hues of the day replaced by the deep blues and blacks of night. You gently dried Ji-An's small, pruney hands with a plush, soft towel and led her towards her bedroom. The room was bathed in the warm, cozy hue from the night lamp sitting on her bedside table, casting playful shadows that danced on the walls.

You tucked her into her bed. The fluffy comforter was pulled up to her chin, and you couldn't help but laugh at the way Gunpowder jumped onto her lap, purring contently.

"Noona," she signed, her eyes wide and luminous in the dim light, reflecting the soft glow of the night lamp. "Can you tell me a bedtime story? "

"Of course, sweetheart. Do you have any particular story in mind?" You asked, settling yourself comfortably at the edge of her bed, your hand gently rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"No, you choose, " she shrugged, her small body snuggling deeper into the warm covers.

You mulled over her request for a moment, your mind flipping through the pages of the countless stories you knew. Finally, one came to your mind. "There's a sad yet beautiful story from my hometown about two squirrels. They were mates—lovers for life and the town's favorite pair of animals. They were seen everywhere together, always chattering away in their own language, their tails intertwined. "

With each word, you painted a vivid picture of their life together. You told her about the female squirrel's illness and the male's devotion and his refusal to leave her side even in search of food.

As you narrated, you noticed Ji-An's eyes welling up with a faraway look. She interrupted you multiple times. "Why didn't the male squirrel eat?" "Why didn't he find another mate? " "Do all squirrels do this? "

You answered each question patiently, explaining the depth of the squirrel's love and the depth of his grief. You told her about how the male squirrel mourned for his mate, returning to their empty nest alone each year.

As you reached the end of the story, you noticed Ji-An's eyes growing heavy. Her questions became fewer and farther between, her chest moving slower until she slept. Still, she was twitching ever so slightly, hands closed and then jerking open in a rhythmic pattern that spoke volumes.

In an attempt to provide some comfort, you laid down next to her, being careful not to jostle her too much. You wrapped your arm around her small form, pulling her closer to your warmth.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of yellow and red. The hyena. It was lurking in the corner of the room, its eyes gleaming malevolently in the dim light, eager to haunt you too. You didn't even turn to look at it. It was there, but it wasn't real. You knew it.

"Goodnight, Ji-An," you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, placing her bunny toy in the place where you'd been seconds before. "Sleep tight, sweetheart," you added, stroking her hair soothingly. "Noona's here. You're safe."

You switched off the night lamp, plunging the room into darkness, save for the faint moonlight filtering through the window.

As you left her room, you closed the door gently behind you, leaving the hyena and the remnants of your past locked away.

Easing back into the worn porch chair, the fabric of Jin-Man's purloined shirt fluttered against your skin in the cool night breeze. A stolen moment of solitude, with nothing but a half-burnt cigarette for company.

The embers at the tip flickered, casting an eerie glow in the darkness. Drawing the cigarette to your lips, you inhaled, letting the sharp tang of nicotine coil around your senses and momentarily dull your worries.

Eyes shut, you allowed your thoughts to drift to the intricate web of coding and changes you had to make in Murthehelp.

The only sounds were the distant hum of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves under the night sky's vast expanse. Yet, this tranquility was abruptly shattered by the encroaching sound of hushed footsteps gradually growing louder. Your eyes fluttered open to see Jin-Man standing before you, arms crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the cigarette nestled between your fingers with a look of distaste as if you had the devil's hands between your lips.

A chuckle escaped you; the sight of Jin-Man, usually so composed, visibly irked by the cigarette, was enough to momentarily diffuse the tension. "Insomnia again?" you asked, flicking the ash off the cigarette with your thumb.

His hardened gaze didn't waver as he retorted, "I was waiting for you to come to bed."

You shrugged nonchalantly. Since your suicide attempt, Jin-Man has taken it upon himself to keep a watchful eye on you. The concept of solitary sleep had become foreign to both of you.

“What's eating at you?" he asked, his gaze softening slightly.

"Why did you abandon Ji-An at school?"

"I got tied up and lost track of time," he replied, but his excuse fell on deaf ears. You scoffed at his words, well aware of the truth. He hadn't forgotten; he probably thought leaving Ji-An to trek home on her own would toughen her up.

"That's a load of crap, and you know it," you retorted, stomping out the cigarette under your feet. "Do you think making her walk home alone in the rain is going to make her stronger? Is that your grand plan?"

His silence was a response in itself, resonating in the quiet night air louder than any words.

"You are unbelievable, Jin-Man," you muttered. The scent of fresh paint and pine filled the air. It was a far cry from the gunpowder and blood that once filled your memory. But you couldn't help but crave it sometimes, even if it meant pain. Pain meant life; it meant survival. "You keep pushing her away relentlessly, like a stubborn child refusing his vegetables. You're so preoccupied with making her tough and resilient that you forget she's just a child. She needs your love and your understanding. You forget that she can't even communicate normally and that her aphasia is only getting worse! You don't even let me talk with her teacher, and don't pretend I don't know about the bullying she's enduring at school! We're not in Babylon , Jin-Man! We're in a small town where everyone knows everyone else. For heaven's sake, grow up!”

He retorted, his voice sharp as a blade, slicing through the heavy silence. “You should be more concerned with managing your own aphasia and PTSD. Ji-An’s not your responsibility. She's not related to you by blood. Drop this saintly act of playing mom. We're not her parents. This isn't a dollhouse and we're not Ken and Barbie.”

"Act? I kept Ji-An alive after her parents died! I trained her to communicate again! And even though it's hard, I've made her eat properly and taught her how to brush her teeth and do her homework again! I've been here for her every step of the way! You just... sit in your office or hide in your room!"

His jaw clenched tightly before he spoke again. "You think that's all it takes? Just feeding her and teaching her sign language?" He spat out angrily. The tip of his tongue traced his bottom lip as he continued speaking harshly, "It's not enough! She needs discipline! She needs structure!"

You shook your head violently. "She has enough structure! She needs us, Jin-Man! She needs our support, our guidance. She doesn't need a soldier; she needs a parent!"

His face tightened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"Are you that afraid to care for someone, that afraid to love again? Are you hiding behind your uniform, your duties because you're too scared to face your own feelings?"

"Don't play with fire. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I do! And do you think Jin-Suk would like to see his daughter being trained as a warrior rather than growing up as a normal girl?" you challenged, your voice echoing with the strength of your belief.

The mention of his brother struck a nerve. A flash of anger crossed his stony features, and before you knew it, he was charging at you like a wild animal.

Suddenly, Jin-Man's hands shot out, pushing you roughly against the wall. Your back slammed into the gnarled wooden planks, the splintered texture scratching against your skin. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through your spine, causing you to gasp as the wind was knocked out of your lungs.

"Why are you doing this, Jin-Man?"

In response, his large, calloused hands wrapped around your throat in a vice-like grip, cutting off your airway. His fingers pressed against the delicate skin of your neck, the strength in his hands threatening to crush your windpipe. It felt like you were sinking into an abyss, the darkness of his rage engulfing you, making it impossible to breathe.

You clawed at his hands, desperate to pry them off. But his grip was unyielding; his hands felt like iron bands around your neck, tightening with every second that passed. As you gasped for breath, your vision started to spin, the edges blurring as black spots danced in front of your eyes. Your lungs felt like they were on fire, screaming for air.

Panic surged within you, a tidal wave that threatened to consume you. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity as you struggled to draw breath.

Finally, his grip loosened just slightly, allowing a sliver of oxygen to rush into your lungs. You gasped; the taste of air was like ambrosia—sweet and life-giving. Coughs racked your body as you struggled to regain control over your breathing, your throat raw and your chest heaving. The salty tang of tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision.

But you refused to back down, to give in to the fear. You locked eyes with him, defiance burning in your gaze. "Go ahead, Jin-Man, continue," you spat out, your voice raspy from the assault. "Kill me. But know this: my death won't change the truth.”

“Jesus, you're so weak, girl.”

A chuckle found its way through your bruised vocal chords. “Yeah? Wanna see who's weak then?”

Summoning every iota of your willpower, you retaliated against his suffocating hold. Your fingers clawed at his wrist, nails digging into his skin as you strained against his formidable strength.

After a fierce and desperate struggle, your adrenaline-fueled power seemed to catch him off guard. With a sudden explosive kick, you managed to wrench yourself free, pushing him violently away from you.

Caught off balance, Jin-Man stumbled backwards. His feet skidded across the wooden floorboards, and his body crashed into the pot of vibrant lilies you had carefully chosen from the local market to adorn the porch. The pot shattered on impact, fragments of terracotta scattering across the floor, intermingling with the uprooted flowers and loose soil.

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The only sounds were the soft rustling of the brutalized lilies and the quiet patter of dirt falling onto the floor. But inside? Inside of you, the hyenas laughter echoed through your mind, mocking you for getting what you deserved—too used to chaos and violence.

The sight of the destruction seemed to snap Jin-Man out of his rage-induced stupor, his furious gaze softening as he took in the aftermath of your altercation.

"I'm done," you said, breaking the silence. "I'm done with this, Jin-Man. I'm done with your anger, your stubbornness, and your refusal to let anyone in. I'm done with the constant battles, the endless wars. I'm grabbing my stuff and leaving."

“Y/N…” He trailed off as he grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you around to face him. Your bodies were just inches apart now, his breath hot on your cheek as he pleaded silently.

“Don’t. Just shut your mouth and let me go. I'm not your Barbie, right?” Each word was punctuated by the bitter taste of blood as you absentmindedly touched your raw throat.

“You can't sleep alone.”

“I'll manage.”

“You can't remember when you last ate.”

"I'll set a reminder.”

"You can't drive without crying."

"I'll get a taxi."

"Ji-An needs you."

I need you.

"She needs you more."

"And you, Jin-Man," you added, the sting of your words sobering the air. "You need to realize that before it's too late."

----------------

April 3:

"Are you serious? Did I actually have to buy another chip to send you messages? You know, the store owner looked at me like I was crazy."

1 missed call from Ahjusshi

April 5:

"Ji-An keeps asking for you. She asked me to tell her the story about the couple of squirrels. You know, the one about their endless love and devotion."

2 missed calls from Jeong

April 7:

"Pasin showed me the link to the site. It's pretty quick and easy to access. Even an old man like me can make requests for guns, right? Technology these days, eh?"

April 11:

"She asked me to put on Casablanca. It's one of your favorites, right? I remember Honda telling me that you're addicted to Hollywood classics.”

“Gunpowder keeps sleeping on your side of the bed. I hate it.”

3 missed calls from Jeong Jin-Man, son of a bitch

April 22:

"I have a mission for you. It's critical and requires your skills."

"Can you come home so that we can discuss the details? There's something about it I can't trust in a message."

8 missed calls from the son of a bitch

“I guess I will ask So Min-Hye to replace you then. I know you wouldn't want that."

May 7:

“Ji-An's teacher told me that you visited her today. Did you really make two boys eat dirt by grabbing her money?”

“I could've helped.”

May 9:

“Went to the market today and heard Kyung Soo say that you're a good kisser. I had to stop myself from laughing."

“I heard from the locals that he went to the hospital after being knocked out. Strange, right? Or should I say, expected?"

May 16:

"Gunpowder brought a dead bird into the house. I think she's trying to replace you as the hunter of the family."

May 21:

"I saw a girl at the market wearing a dress you would like. It had sunflowers all over it. Made me think of you."

"She was about your age, too. For a moment, I thought it was you ."

-------

As Jin-Man speeds in the direction of Ji-An's school, his heart pounds against his ribs like a war drum. His knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, his forehead slick with beads of sweat. He curses himself silently, berating his own negligence.

How could he have not noticed that Ji-An hadn't come home?

The typical view of the small city blurs past him, the houses and trees merging into a hasty collage of colors under the evening gloom. The town's bakery, the park where the children play, and the old library all blur into indistinguishable shadows. But he barely registers any of it. His mind is filled with vivid images of you screaming at him for this oversight.

He imagines your small fists beating at his chest, your eyes—those captivating eyes that he secretly admired—flaring with anger and worry.

“How could you forget her again , Jin-Man? She's just a child!"

The guilt, like a ravenous beast, gnaws at him, driving him to press the pedal harder. The old engine protests, its roar echoing through the tranquil evening.

Suddenly, he remembers his phone.

Snatching it from the passenger seat, he dials your number hastily. The line rings once, twice, thrice, but there's no answer. He fumbles to leave a voicemail, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks into the device. "Hey, I… messed up. Ji-An... I… Just call me back.”

The voicemail ends with a beep, leaving Jin-Man alone with his thoughts and the eerie silence of the empty road. He tosses the phone onto the passenger seat, his eyes never leaving the road.

Nearing the school, his eyes flicked to the digital clock on the dashboard—it read 19:00, the hour when the last echoes of childhood laughter usually fade away. But now, the school grounds were eerily silent and deserted, a stark contrast to the daytime symphony of playful shouts and laughter. The playground, usually a vibrant hub of activity, was painted with somber shades, the swings swaying lightly in the breeze, their squeaky chains the only sound piercing the silence.

As he swung into the school's parking lot, a small figure suddenly sprang from the shadows, frantically waving his arms.

A boy was shouting, his voice hoarse and strained, as he pointed towards the grimy basement door at the rear of the school building. "She's locked there!"

Without a second thought, Jin-Man abandons his car, leaving the engine running as he sprints towards the basement door. The door is locked, but within, he can hear Ji-An's voice, her pleas echoing through the desolate night.

"Jeong Jin-Man! Jeong Jin-Man! Jeong Jin-Man!" she is calling, her voice scratchy and strained, likely from the first use of her vocal cords in months.

Frantically, he scans his surroundings. His eyes land on a fire safety box nearby. Inside, he spots a hammer.

With no time to spare, he smashes the box, glass shards raining onto the worn-out asphalt. He grabs the hammer, using it to break the rusted chains and unlock the door.

In a final heave, he throws the door open, revealing Ji-An inside. Her cheeks were flushed red from crying and her eyes were brimming with a mix of relief and fear.

She doesn't waste any time rushing at him, her small fists pounding against his chest. He doesn't move; he doesn't try to stop her. She's screaming at him, her words punctuated by her furious hits: "Why did you take so long? You promised you were coming back soon! Why did you arrive so late? Why did you let her go? Why did you let Noona go? Why? Why?"

He could only look at her, absorbing her words and feeling each syllable like a physical blow. Her pain, her anger, and her confusion were all directed at him.

Then he did the only thing he could think of—the only thing he thought you would have done in this situation.

He pulled her into a tight, protective hug.

For minutes, he doesn't say a word until he grabs her, holding her close.

Turning to the boy, he nods, "I'll give you a ride home."

The journey to the kid’s home was silent, save for the muted hum of the car's engine and the occasional rustle of cloth against leather.

Ji-An was huddled against the passenger seat, her body trembling slightly. Noticing this, he pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her small frame in the same way he did for you.

After dropping the boy off and Ji-An finally falling asleep, he drives aimlessly. The city lights flicker past in a hazy blur, their glow casting fleeting shadows on his face. He thinks of you—your laughter, your anger, and your determination. It's strange, he thinks, how the absence of someone can fill a room, a house, or a life.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sudden ringing of his phone.

Glancing at the screen, he sees your name flashing. He hesitates, his thumb hovering over the decline button.

But then he remembers how things used to be and how it felt to hear your voice without the weight of regret and guilt. He misses when your name didn't make his chest ache, when it was just a name he heard now and then but held no significance to him.

He yearns for the days when he didn't know you, when his eyes didn't instinctively scan every room he entered in hopes of finding you there. He misses the sight of you standing among strangers, wearing that ridiculous skirt he used to tease you about but now finds himself missing.

He finds himself longing for the mundane details. How you'd take off your shoes at the front door, placing your keys with care in the small glass bowl on the corner of the kitchen counter. How you'd drape your coat over the back of a dining room chair, your socks left at the foot of the bed next to the sleeping cat.

He misses holding back your hair as you succumb to the side effects of your PTSD pills, your body rejecting the chemicals meant to help you cope. He yearns for the times when you would climb under the white blankets with him, forcefully opening his arms to encase you between them.

He misses how you would place your legs on top of his and let your hands wander to his waist and chest. He misses hearing you say, "I missed you," telling him about your day as you would slowly drift off to sleep. And he longs for the times he would secretly kiss your cheek softly before he inevitably had to leave you for work.

He misses when you were simply strangers—not two people who act like strangers in public but once knew each other better than they ever knew themselves. He misses the simplicity of those days and the innocence of not knowing what it felt like to lose you.

Because, in the end, when the lights are off and his eyes flutter shut, the back of his mind always whispers your name, calling out to you like you are the only place he was ever meant to call home .

When he finally decided to answer the call, he placed the phone on the dashboard, the worn leather creaking under the weight. He switched to speaker mode, the familiar chime filling the small space of the car.

"Hello?"

Tinny and distant over the phone speaker, you responded almost immediately. "You left a voicemail. What happened?" In the background, he could hear the faint, unmistakable sound of a lighter flicking open and the soft hiss of a cigarette being lit.

"Your voice sounds rough," he commented, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a touch of humor. "How many days have you been communicating only with sign language?"

"Shut up, motherfucker. What about Ji-An?”

"I…" he started, faltering. The words he needed to say were stuck in his throat, like a bitter pill he couldn't swallow.

“Look, Ji-Man. I have nothing to do with you anymore. I’m calling you back because you sounded like a wounded little bitch and you said her name. Drop the show and spit it out.”

“I failed again, okay?" The confession spilled out of him, the words tasting like defeat. But he couldn't stop there; he had to finish what he started. "But, look, Ji-An spoke.”

He could almost hear your sharp intake of breath and the sound of the cigarette being hastily put out in the background. There was a long, drawn-out silence, the kind of silence that spoke volumes. He could imagine your surprise—the way your eyes would widen slightly, the lit cigarette forgotten in your hand. But when you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, filled with a strange mix of relief and trepidation.

"She spoke?"

"Yes. She called out to me. She used her voice, and she spoke."

"Look, I'm not going to pretend that everything is okay between us," he continued, his voice gruff, "But I'm also not going to pretend that we don't have a shared past. One that involves a little girl who misses you."

"You're such a bastard. You know how to manipulate me using her," you snapped, the sound of a chair creaking in the background signaling your agitation.

"Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that Ji-An misses you. And you miss her too, don't you?"

A silence followed his words—not an uncomfortable one, but a silence filled with unspoken words and a shared history. And then you sighed, a deep, heavy sigh that echoed with the weight of your unspoken thoughts.

"I do miss her. But you, Jeong Jin-Man, are a pain in my ass.”

He couldn't help but chuckle at your words. "I've been told that before."

"I'm sure you have."

Another silence filled the line, comfortable yet heavy with years of shared experiences.

"By the way," he added, his voice softer now, "the key is still under the cat statue you put by the front door. You can drop by anytime."

"I'll think about it. But don't expect me to come running back, Jin-Man. We're not the same people we used to be."

"I know. But we're still us, aren't we?"

"We're something ," you admitted, a sigh slipping past your lips. "But I don't know what that is anymore."

"Neither do I. But maybe we can figure it out together, old lady."

"Old lady?" you scoffed, a hint of amusement in your voice. "Coming from a man who's 10 years older than me."

"Years are still years," he teased, a smile playing on his lips. "But whatever we are, Y/N, whatever we become, you're still… something to me. And so is Ji-An. Remember that."

"I will. I will, Ahjusshi."

#lee dong wook #imagine #a shop for killers #jeong jin man #lee dong wook x reader #lee dongwook x fem! reader #poetry #jeong jin man x reader #jeong jian #seo moonjo x reader #lee dongwook x reader

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fortisseto · 1 month ago

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I enjoy projecting onto different Falsettos characters like there is no tomorrow (within reason), but my most favourite thing to ponder is Jason's entire life up until we saw the story end!

- Kids who resent their parents tend to hate any and all associations with them (me), but Jason looks like Marvin. Acts like Marvin. Could grow into Marvin. That's a scary thought considering how Trina and Jason had been afraid of Marvin for so long, and he doesn't want to turn out like the asshole his father was or be in pain like his mother was. What do we do? Distance. Create distance. Don't look into the eyes you share with the monster, because that is where you will see the monster in its truth.

- Bouncing off of that, I wonder how many nights Marvin spent away where Trina would look at Jason and pretend to see Marvin sitting in that chair with just the attributes of his face. probablyyy the pain doubling down with the fact that she and Marvin made him together, so she has to see herself in him too. No matter what beautiful traits he takes from her, they won't seem as pretty in the moment.

- The way Whizzer serves as Jason's friend as well as his father's. Jason is very asocial and didn't make much of any friends, and this is something I mentioned in my fic, so I'll do it here- part of Jason's Immaturity, I feel, comes from seeing his parents as friends more than mother and father (to define "friend" and "parent," especially as an autistic person, is incredibly difficult). To Jason, Marvin is kind of like a pen-pal or a long distance relationship: there's still some kind of barrier between you no matter how "into" each other's lives you are. Jason is immature (obviously), so his perception is closer to "so why can't you just close the distance?" But, Jason doesn't want anything to do with his father once he tries waltzing back into his life when he didn't have anything else. I don't even exactly know what friend I'd define Trina as, but even including Mendel and Cordelia and Dr Charlotte, they all seem to be friends before they're much of anything else. That's because they're all strange as fucking hell

At like, ten/eleven years old, you shouldn't have a reason to think about it so large scale, but Jason was presented his affair with Whizzer at that time, and that will always be the age where one starts to question just about everything. That's what our formative years are for. Out of all social relationships, the one man he continuously chooses to be friends with is his father's own ex-lover. I sometimes wonder what makes Whizzer his best friend? Well, friends are chosen, not premade. However, as a ten year old boy, that isn't something you ponder. regardless, "the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb" for a reason, and no matter how many friends Jason has, Whizzer was the first that wasn't made by his mother or father for him.

Long story short, stone me in the town square if I'm wrong. I should go rewatch Falsettos before I drown in the sea odnmy own obsession

#marvin trilogy #in trousers #christian borle #falsettos #jason falsettos

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hypothermic-dream · 5 months ago

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She deceived us all. We once called her the Angelic Mother, with her shorn head gleaming like a beacon in our barren world. The drought stretched on endlessly, blurring the lines between years— Centuries, perhaps millennia, bled into one another. The once vibrant ochre paint that adorned our faces had faded, replaced by the dull patina of despair. We, the remnants of the Green People, were mere whispers of who we once were. Time, a concept as withered as our crops, held no meaning in this arid wasteland. Hunger gnawed at our bellies, a relentless beast whispering promises of oblivion in our ears.

Conversations, if any, were guttural groans, the symphony of a dying language. We were marionettes on the strings of starvation, our movements jerky, our eyes hollow caverns. The elders, their skin stretched taut over brittle bones, mumbled incoherently of a time when the sky wept with life-giving rain, a paradise mocking us from the dusty recesses of memory.

The once vibrant colors of our communal life had bled away, replaced by a chilling sense of isolation. The drought had stripped bare not just the land, but the very soul of our tribe. Gone were the days of shared meals and joyous songs. Now, every man, woman, and child was an island, a fortress of gnawing hunger. Trust became a luxury we couldn't afford. Sharing a morsel of dried lizard meat was akin to inviting a viper into your tent.

The nights were worse. Under the cold gaze of a million indifferent stars, our minds played cruel tricks. The shimmering mirages of shimmering oases danced just beyond reach, driving us to the brink of madness. Some swore they saw plump, ripe melons growing in the cracks of the parched earth, only to collapse in despair as the cruel mirage dissolved into dust. Others saw their deceased loved ones, their spectral forms beckoning with ghostly feasts, only to vanish with a heart-wrenching sigh as we reached for them.

Hunger, the great leveler, stripped away all pretense of civility. The bonds of family, once sacrosanct, frayed and snapped. The cries of children, once a source of joy, became a maddening symphony of need, a constant reminder of our dwindling resources. Desperate whispers of a forgotten prophecy surfaced – whispers of a red moon and a sacrifice to appease "the Thing." We, who once scoffed at the superstitions of neighboring tribes, now clung to this sliver of hope like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood.

Enter the Angelic Mother. She arrived like a wraith, shrouded in black leather that seemed to drink in the ever-present sunlight. Her shaved head, once a beacon of fertility, now gleamed like a skull polished by the desert winds. Her eyes, cold and calculating, held no warmth, no empathy. Her smile, a chilling crescent moon, sent shivers down our spines. Despite the gnawing suspicion that curdled in our bellies, her pronouncements held a strange power.

The queen, a woman with eyes as hollow as our bellies, became a mere pawn in the Mother's game. We were desperate, so desperate that reason itself became a luxury we couldn't afford. The Mother's demands – the desecration of our most sacred traditions, the sacrifice of our ancestors – were met with a mute acquiescence. Hope, a flickering candle in the wind, fueled our compliance.

As the crimson moon, a bleeding wound in the inky sky, painted the parched earth red, a flicker of something akin to hope stirred within us. Gathered on the shore, the once vibrant pulse of the ocean stilled, replaced by a slick, crimson calm that mirrored the blood sacrifice staining the Mother's hands. Her chant, a guttural invocation in a language older than time, echoed across the desolate landscape. It wasn't a prayer. It was a pact, a bargain struck with a power as ancient as the stars.

The ocean churned, waves of blood crashing against the shore. From the depths emerged a monstrosity that defied comprehension. Six spindly legs, each thicker than the mightiest baobab tree of our forgotten past, propelled a gelatinous mass that pulsed with an unholy luminescence. Its eyeless head, a grotesque parody of a starfish, writhed with impossible angles, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth that gnashed at the air. An inhuman stench, a cloying amalgam of decay and sulfur, assaulted our senses, threatening to melt our very flesh.

The Mother, her laughter a chorus of rasping echoes that seemed to emanate from every crevice of the world, threw herself willingly into the creature's maw. Panic, primal and raw, seized us. We scattered like frightened insects, but escape was futile. The entity devoured everything in its path, leaving behind only the chilling emptiness of a world devoid of hope.

I never believed in gods. Even now, staring into the abyss that swallowed my tribe, I don't. This… thing… was no deity. Perhaps a devil, a manifestation of our collective despair given form. A single tear, a glistening ember in this wasteland, rolls down my cheek. Does it even matter if I believe anymore? The Green People are gone, their vibrant colors replaced by the crimson stain of a hungry god, or perhaps, a reflection of our own corrupted souls.

The vast, indifferent sky stretches above, a canvas of countless, mocking stars. In this cosmic dance of oblivion, where meaning crumbles to dust and civilizations rise and fall like fleeting breaths, what is the purpose of a single life, a single tribe? Lost and alone, I stand on the precipice of oblivion, a solitary echo in the face of an uncaring universe.

But a chilling memory surfaces, a testament to the true horror of our demise. In the throes of starvation, driven to the brink by the Angelic Mother's maddening pronouncements, the whispers of cannibalism began. At first, it was the weak, the elderly, those who succumbed to hunger's cruel embrace. But the hunger, once awakened, became a ravenous beast with an insatiable appetite. Suspicion turned into accusations, accusations into violence. Families fractured, bonds severed. Brother turned on brother, sister on sister, all for a single, meager scrap of flesh. The stench of roasting human flesh, a macabre incense to a pitiless sky, became a constant companion.

The nights were the worst. The gnawing hunger, fueled by the taste of forbidden flesh, twisted our dreams into grotesque parodies. We feasted on spectral versions of our loved ones, only to awaken to the emptiness of our bellies and the chilling reality. The line between sanity and madness blurred, leaving a chilling emptiness in its wake.

The Angelic Mother, that harbinger of doom, watched with a detached amusement. Her eyes, devoid of any human emotion, gleamed with a cruel satisfaction. Was she a prophet, or a puppet master, a willing servant of the entity that rose from the crimson sea? The answer, like the meaning of our suffering, remains shrouded in the dust of this desolate world.

Now, I am the last. A lone survivor in a graveyard of forgotten dreams. The entity, satiated for now, has retreated to the depths, leaving behind a chilling silence. Do I yearn for death? Perhaps. But a flicker of defiance, a vestige of the Green People's spirit, still burns within me. I will not surrender to despair. I will live, if only to bear witness to the desolation, a living testament to our folly and the cruel indifference of the universe. There may be no redemption, no solace in the afterlife. But I will cling to this life, this solitary existence, a final act of rebellion against the oblivion that awaits.

Painting : “sacrifices” by scott flament

#dark academia #literature #poetry

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jellybear455 · 2 years ago

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let me heal you is one of my fave fics ever!! could i request a dreamwalker!reader x tsu’tey where tsu’tey has to teach reader the ways of the people because if he teaches jake he’ll rip his head off and he develops a major crush on the reader

Thank you for your request! This took me way too long to do for some reason.

Tsu'tey x reader

Warnings: blood, violence, loss

Word count: 3.2k

Part 2

Pandora. A planet full of new colours, knowledge and danger. Compared to Earth, it was heaven. Except, you can’t get there by dying. Instead, you must pledge your life force to science. Even then, only incredible luck got me here. Not as much luck as Jake Sully had, though.

The ex-marine, paralysed from the waist down, had a brother. I remember when Tom died. There was no funeral. No one hold funerals anymore. We spent years together, learning about Pandora and preparing to be launched into space. Tom was killed barely a month before we were due to leave. Six years in cyro can’t fix that pain.

Now, I watch Jake Sully, standing in Tom’s tall blue Avatar body, marvelling at the dirt between his toes. Human or not, he looks exactly like his brother.

Today was our first time linking to the artificial Na’vi vessels. The lack of a mask on my face feels strange, but strangely relieving. The Pandora atmosphere, containing curiously higher percentages of carbon dioxide, hydrogen sulfide and xenon, feels different to oxygen, somehow thicker as I breathe it in. It’s almost an out of body experience. I can feel my body, and I know it is mine, but when I look, it feels as though it is someone else’s. But that will go away in time. For now, I will enjoy the new freedoms and sensations that come with the Avatar.

The next morning, at 0600 on the dot, I am in my Avatar, and we are soaring above the Pandora jungle. I lean out over the edge of the helicopter beside Jake, who is also in his Avatar. We are zooming low over a huge body of water, accompanied by a flock of purple creatures, that squawk when we get too close.

The air craft rises again, over the trees, before descending onto the forest floor. Immediately, I jump down, ignoring how Jake waved his gun around like an idiot. He pushes ahead of me as the helicopter shuts off, tail whipping my leg. I hissed in annoyance, but followed behind without protesting.

We trepassed through the jungle, and despite the mind-blowing scenery, all I could think about was Pandora’s humanoid inhabitants. The Na’vi. The people we were impersonating with our Avatars. I was fluent in Na’vi, but Doctor Grace liked to tell me that my pronunciation was off. I think she just likes to get on my nerves.

The Na’vi were hunters by nature, and dangerous creatures that could kill you without batting an eye. Or so everyone would have us believe. Doctor Grace says the Na’vi are intelligent, sympathetic creatures, no different from us. Either way, I am certain that they are watching us right now.

Green monkey-like creatures with 6 legs swing through the trees. Jake raises his gun, but I reach out to lower it.

“Prolemuris.” I tell him, watching as they cartwheel away from us. “They are not aggressive.”

“Relax, marine. You’re making me nervous.” Grace says loudly, rolling her eyes and pushing past.

Eventually, Jake keeps walking.

“So,” Norm speaks up after sometime. “How will they know we’re here?”

“I’m sure they’re watching us right now.” Grace replies nonchalantly, echoing my thoughts from earlier.

We emerge from the thick forest and into a clearing. In the centre is a small, rotting, wooden hut. Grace strides in confidently, and the rest of us follow, a little less certain. Inside is the remains of a school. Books, which used to rest neatly on shelves, are scattered across the floor. Most of the desks remain upright, with chairs tucked underneath, but some are upside down and have been strewn across the room.

I watch silently from the door as Doctor Grace trails her hand sadly across a desk. When moves to another part of the room to gather equipment, I approach where she previously stood. Squinting a little, I can make out the rough letters scratched into the desk. ‘Sylwanin’.

“What happened here?” Jake questions, snapping me out of my thoughts. He stands next to an old black board, which is riddled with bullet holes.

Grace inhales sharply, and I watch as she fumbles for an answer. She finally settles on avoiding the question entirely. “Are you gonna help us here? We’ve got a lot to do.”

As Doctor Grace and Norm collect samples from a tree root, I wander off into the jungle. I enter another clearing, this time filled with round, spiralling plants. My hand brushes one, and it shrinks back into a little bud on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Jake demands, appearing from behind me.

I can’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl. “Watch this.”

When I poke another plant, Jake laughs too. I tough another, then another, and then they all shrink, leaving the clearing empty. My amusement fades away as Jake tenses beside me, and I spot a huge, armoured hammer-headed creature snorting at us from the trees. Jake yanks me behind him, and raises his gun. Fear spikes in my chest.

“Don’t shoot. You’ll only piss it off.” Grace’s voice crackles through the intercom in my ear.

“I think it’s already pissed off.” Jake responds, still pointing his gun at the creature.

“Trust me, Jake. That armour is too thick.” The marine relents, lowering his gun. Grace continues. “It’s a territorial threat display. Don’t run, or he’ll charge.”

“Thank what am I supposed to do, dance with it?”

“Just hold your ground.”

The animal huffs, pawing the ground, before letting out a roar and charging anyway.

“Grace…” I mutter, frozen in fear.

With a scream of his own, Jake ran, headfirst, towards it. My heart skipped at least three beats before the creature skidded to a halt, the webbed fans behind its hammer head spreading in alarm. It slinked away into the forest and Jake whooped in victory.

“Oh yeah! Who’s bad?” He shouted triumphantly. “That’s right. That’s what I’m talking about. Bitch.”

I laughed in relief, turning away from Jake to catch my breath. It did not take long for my blood to turn to ice again.

“That’s right, get your punk ass back to mommy.”

“Jake,” I whispered.

“Yeah, yeah you got nothing! You keep running.”

“Jake!” I hissed, a little louder.

Finally, he turned around. “What?”

The black, slick, panther-like thanator roared threateningly. It loomed above me on the tree, before leaping over us and growling at the pack of hammer heads. Jake raised his gun again in alarm.

“So, uh, what about this one? Run, don’t run?”

I grabbed his arm and pulled him in the other direction. “Run, definitely run!”

Leaping over a tree root, I rushed into the forest, Jake following close behind. I weaved around a tree, then through bamboo looking plants, then under a tree root. Still the thanator roared and crashed behind me. Launching myself off a particularly high rock, I curled my hands around a vine, using the momentum to swing myself up into a tree. The creature raced past, instead favouring Jake, who had taken refuge in the roots of another tree. He fired his gun desperately, but it did nothing to slow his pursuer. I searched my surroundings frantically, looking for someway to help. My eyes landed on the crack in the branch I stood across from.

My hands grappled for another vine, and I swung at the branch, hard. I was rewarded with a sickening crack. Still, the thanator dug at the roots, claws dangerously close to Jake. I swung again, once, twice, three times, until, with particularly loud crack, the branch plummeted to the ground, landing on the thanator’s tail. It screamed out, and Jake scrambled, running into the jungle. I grabbed another vine, sliding down and following after. The thanator kept screaming.

Jake ducked under a root ahead of me. Before I could make it through, the thanator soared over me, grabbing Jake by the backpack and swinging him through the air. He unclipped the back, and went tumbling to the ground. I rushed between the creatures legs as it shook the bag out of its jaws, and pulled him up with one hand. We kept running.

We hurtled through a break in the trees. The little control we had over our Avatar bodies was not enough to stop us as we realised we were fast heading off the edge of a cliff. I scream ripped out of my throat as the thanator snapped its jaws behind us. I crossed my arms over my chest and pushed my legs together. All I could do was hope that there was water beneath us.

My feet hit the rapids first, and the rest of my body followed. I did not have time to swim to the surface for air, because my head struck a rock, and I was rendered unconscious.

When I could think clearly again, the first thing I wondered was if I was dead. Then I realised that I certainly wasn’t, because why was my dead spirit being jostled around like a sack of potatoes? I pealed my eyes open, glad the light was not too bright. As it turns out, the person tossing me around was strangely familiar.

“Tom?”

The person looked down at me and grinned. “You’re awake.”

It was Jake, still in Tom’s Avatar. He had one arm under my knees, and the other across my shoulders, carrying me through the jungle. My head throbbed, and when I reached up to touch my forehead, my fingers came back with flakes of dried blood on them.

“How long have I been out?”

“Hours.” Jake said worriedly. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up at all. But hey, look on the bright side.”

He nodded ahead of us. A tall blue Na’vi woman carrying a bow stalked through the trees. She looked back occasionally, as if checking we were still there.

“Is that…”

“Hell yeah it is. She’s taking us back to their village.”

“Oh wow,” I muttered, taking her in. “What’s her name?”

“That’s a good question. I’ll ask.”

He did not get the chance, because his legs came out from under him, and we fell from the particularly high tree branch we had been walking across. I groaned loudly in pain when we hit the ground, unable to move as Jake frantically pulled on the rope around his ankles. As he tossed it away, more Na’vi on 6-legged, horse-like creatures emerged, wielding weapons.

Jake drew his knife, turning to see more Na’vi behind him. I struggled to stand, the pain in my head making me dizzy. I looked up, only to meet the eyes of a Na’vi. He aimed his arrow, no doubt laced with a neurotoxin, at my chest. I raised my hands in fear.

“Calm, people, calm.” The woman that had been leading the forest shouted. Despite being fluent, it took me a moment to translate the words.

The Na’vi pointing the arrow at me lowered his weapon, dismounting his horse thing, and stalking toward the woman.

“What are the doing, Tsu’tey?” The woman asked.

Tsu’tey. His name was Tsu’tey.

“These demons are forbidden here.” Tsu’tey replied.

“There has been a sign.” The woman insists. “This is a matter for the Tsahìk.”

I could not begin to comprehend what that meant, because my legs began to shake uncontrollably, and I fell to the ground again. Tsu’tey stared down at me, before grabbing me roughly under the arms and pulling me up on the horse thing with him, and laying me across his knees. I gasped, the sudden movement amplifying the dizziness in my head. I looked back to see Jake being dragged behind us by the Na’vi on foot.

When the jungle began to thin out, a huge tree came into sight. This was where the Omatikaya clan lived. The tree was at least three times bigger than the tallest tree in the jungle, and Na’vi flowed in and out of the trunk from a cave-sized hole at the base of it.

We rode straight into the hole, and the horse things began to slow down. Tsu’tey dismounted, pulling my down with him. My legs were still weak, but I managed to stand.

“This is so cool,” I whispered, gazing round at the curious eyes of the Na’vi around me.

Tsu’tey gave me a funny look, before ushering me forward through the crowd, that parted like a sea. I could count the four fingers pressing into the skin between my shoulder blades, although his touch was not rough like before. Some of the people whispered among themselves, and others reached out to touch me, darting away quickly, as though my five fingers were contagious. A little girl grabbed some of my hair, forcing me to stop. My hair went past my waist, since I had not had the chance to cut it. I smiled at her, and she giggle shyly, letting go. Tsu’tey pushed my forward.

We came to a stop, and soon Jake was pushed into position beside me. The woman stepped in front of us, talking to an older man with a huge belt across his shoulders. He approached, scanning us critically. I made the gesture the woman had made a few moments before. Three fingers to the forehead, then forward. I see you.

“Why do you bring these demons here?” He questions. The commanding tone, plus the decorations adorning his body. He is Olo'eyktan, the leader of the Omatikaya clan.

“I was going to kill them,” The woman says. “But there was a sign from Eywa.”

That’s the second time she’s mentioned a sign. What does that mean?

“I have said before, no dreamwalker will come here.” The Olo'eyktan booms.

“What’s he saying?” Jake whispers.

“The alien smell fills my nose.”

“You smell bad.” I whisper back, holding in a laugh at the confused expression on his face.

“My father is deciding whether to kill you.” The woman says.

Jake shifts uncomfortably. “Your father. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

He steps forward, offering his hand, and the Na’vi behind him leap to restrain him. I step forward too, quickly shoving Jake’s arm back to his side. The woman shoves him back, and Tsu’tey steps in front of the Olo'eyktan defensively.

“Step back!” Someone calls. “I will look at the aliens.”

A woman descends from a stairway above. She is decorated too, but not as much as the Olo'eyktan.

“That is mother.” The younger woman says. “She is Tsahìk, the one who interprets the will of Eywa.”

“Whose Eywa?” Jake asks.

I groan in annoyance. Can he be anymore oblivious? The Tsahìk circles us, pulling on Jake’s braid and tail, then running a hand through my hair and examining my fingers.

“What are you called?” She asks, her Na’vi accent dripping over the English words.

“Jake Sully.”

“And you?” She looks to me.

“My name is (Name).” I say in Na’vi, gesturing I see you to her as well.

The woman huffs a little, then withdraws a small pointy spike from her necklace. She reaches out suddenly, slicing it across both out faces in one fluid strike. I recoil in shock, then stead myself again. She licks it with her tongue, and her expression immediately changes to one of surprise.

“Why did you come to us?” She questions.

“We came to learn.” Jake replies confidently. I look at him out of the corner of my eye.

“We have tried to teach other Sky People. It is hard to fill a cup that is already full.”

“My cup is empty, trust me.” Jake insists. “Just ask Doctor Augustine, I’m no scientist.”

“Then what are you?”

Jake is silent. “I was a marine-“

“He is a warrior.” I cut in, thinking as quickly as I can with the pounding of my head. “Of the Jarhead clan.”

“A warrior!” Tsu’tey cries. “I could kill him easily.”

“No.” The Olo'eyktan stops him. “This is the first warrior of the Sky People we have seen. We need to learn more about him.”

“My daughter, you will teach him our way.” The Tsahìk says.

“Why me? Why not Tsu’tey?” The other woman hisses.

Her mother’s lips twist a little. “They will likely kill each other before the day is out. It is decided. My daughter will teach you our ways, Jakesully.” She approaches me again.

“What about her?” Jake asks, gesturing to me.

Yeah, what about me? Butterflies flap in my stomach. What if she kicks me out? I’m not a warrior. I am a scientist.

“That depends. Are you a warrior?”

“No…” I say. “But I can learn, too.”

The Tsahìk cocks her head. “Why should I believe you?”

“She is a warrior.” Jake cut in. “Just a different kind.”

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Saving your ass.” He mutters back. “She came here to save her people down on Earth. She will learn, trust me.”

It is silent, as the woman before me contemplates what to do. “Tsu’tey, you will teach this one.”

Tsu’tey growled. “But-“

“You will learn, child, or you will leave. Now go.” Tsahìk waved her hands. “You must begin immediately.”

With a hiss, Tsu’tey stalked toward me, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me through the crowd. I stumbled on my own feet, struggling to keep up with his pace.

“Why are we in such a rush?” I huffed in annoyance when we had ascended to a higher, less crowded level of the tree.

“What is rush?” Tsu’tey asks, still leading me through the village.

“Um, to do something quickly, I guess.”

We stop at large hut. As we go inside, I take in the three women sitting in the corner, and the piles of bowls containing brightly coloured pastes around them. The rest of the floor is covered with woven mats.

“This is the healing hut.” Tsu’tey says.

10 minutes later, we emerge again. The wound on my head is clean and covered with a patch. The healers had retrieved a few garments of Na’vi clothing. A cloth top winds around my back, across my chest and loops around my neck. A second, much smaller cloth dangles between my legs, held up by a strap that curves above my hips. It definitely covers the extremities, but not as much as I’d like. I suppose this is a part of the learning.

Again, Tsu’tey grabs my arm, leading me further up and into a large communal level. In the centre is a bonfire, and Na’vi circle it, all crouched on their hunches. We walk right through the crowd and sit at the front. Tsu’tey hands me a rolled up leaf. Upon opening it, I pick up one of the contents. It is a beetle shaped thing. Tsu’tey crunches on his own, so I follow suit. Its hard on the outside, but soft and smooth in the middle. It kind of tastes like chicken soup, just… solid.

Beside me, the woman from the forest pushes Jake down to sit.

“Hey,” He says to me.

“Hi.” I wave back, munching on a beetle thing.

Jake talks to the woman, who eventually introduces herself as Neytiri. Tsu’tey hasn’t said a word to me since we left the healers.

“So, Tsu’tey, what is this stuff?”

“Teylu. You call…” Tsu’tey pauses to search for the words. “Beetle. Larvae.”

“Oh.”

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