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ornithicwen · 5 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 intentions ‧₊˚ ⊹

꩜ pair ; sunday x male reader

✧ tags ; smut, angels, slightly religious(?) theme, soft domtop reader, subbottom sunday, overstimulation, creampie, dacryphilia, corruption kink, mirror sex

Feathered wings behind his ears and a halo behind his head, colored in white and gold, complemented his fair skin. Before you stood a vision of ethereal beauty, radiating tranquility from his serene expression and graceful posture. Yet, despite the divine light that enveloped him, the chains binding him were obvious.

He was a stunning bird with clipped wings, unable to soar through the sky he longed for. Confined in a thorn-adorned golden cage, the delicate bars contrasted with his beauty, trapping him with a distant dream. You yearned to be the one to unlock his cage, helping him experience the true meaning of freedom— paradise.

You had pure intentions— to simply free a bird. With your keen perception and ability to see through the illusions that shroud reality, it was hard to overlook. After all, you were an angel, a high-ranking one at that, destined to protect and nurture these beings. However, shouldn’t a divinity be as pure as the others?

Why do you seek to confine him within the cover of your wings?

…

He was not pure either, so why should it matter if those pure thoughts turned impure the moment he fell from his stage? Why should it matter if he seeks refuge in the confines of the Astral Express or in your room? Why should it matter if he is on your sheets, bent over the bed with your cock slamming in and out of him?

Gray wings were formed from your back, their muted tones contrasting sharply with Sunday’s pristine white ear wings. Perhaps this is your punishment, and you wondered if these striking wings, once symbols of beauty and divinity, would soon succumb to decay, their delicate plumes drifting away like whispers in the wind. You wondered if the act of giving in to pleasure, entwined in the arms of another, would corrupt every inch of your essence to the point of no return. You also wondered what force could have pulled you away from the divine serenity of the heavens, plunging you instead into the murky depths of desire and temptation, as your larger hands tightly held the other man’s wrists behind his back.

His skin was a flawless canvas, fair and smooth. Pink hues highlighted his cheeks, contrasting starkly with the glistening tears that flowed like tiny rivers down his face. His mouth wide open as a series of moans and whimpers escaped his lips like a harmony that stirs your deepest passion, all while you fucked him through submission and corruption. As if you weren’t divine to begin with.

So pretty. You thought. From his silvery soft gray hair and his teary golden irises down to his glistening body, covered in both his and your cum, a warm hue of red across his skin, and the notable bite marks imprinted on his skin. These marks, heavy on their meaning, painted his skin as a symbol of ownership.

He was yours. In and out.

You have finally locked him in your cage.

“Beautiful,” you murmured, your fingers which held his waist tightly moved upward to his chin, and grabbed it firmly. You tilted his face up, forcing his gaze to the mirror that reflected both your images, ensuring he could see how thoroughly ruined, tainted, and fucked up he’s become.

He whimpered in response and your hips brutally snapped once again, causing him to let out a loud moan and orgasm harder than the previous as your cock hit his prostrate one last time before halting, your cock swallowed deep into his once virgin walls. Then, you came hard, spurting your seeds into his hole until it could no longer keep them inside, forming a circle as it spilled with your cock still inside. As soon as you two came down from your high, you shoved your fingers into Sunday’s mouth, forcing him to choke on it while your other hand moved down to hold his already hard, leaking cock.

“One more time,” you said, a smile forming your lips as your gaze met his hazy ones in the mirror, face thoroughly fucked out as tears stained his pink cheeks and droll escaped his lips. “Please,” you continued with a whiny tone, and that alone was enough to earn you a nod despite the fingers that choked him, even though he had been overstimulated for quite a while now.

“Thank you,” you said before pulling your fingers out and grabbing his hips with both hands, once again fucking him into a pit of lust, with no regard for your divine identity nor punishment.

It’s fine. You thought.

Heaven is with me. You thought.

“Heaven is under me,” and you whispered. Now you wonder— can the saint save the tainted?

Can he save you?

Even though he was never a saint to begin with.

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ceoofglytchell · 2 months ago

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To be the Thorn to a Rose

Summary: Aegon knows only that he will marry a lady of great beauty, a flower of House Tyrell. He is certain that he will find nothing but misery in this union, until he finally meets his betrothed and everything changes.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Tyrell!betrothed!Reader

Word count: 3144 words

Warnings: fluff, a bit of humor, Reader has Tyrell features, longing, aegon’s mommy issues, alicent being mean, brief talks of abuse (from otto and alicent), hurt/comfort, soft!Aegon, no mention of Y/N

Notes: This is based on this request. I changed a thing or two, but I hope you’ll like it! Likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated. Enjoy 💛

Aegon always knew he would marry a lady his mother would choose for him, not because he fell in love.

Love was a rare concept among couples these days. Did his mother love his father? Probably. Yet they hadn’t loved each other when he had taken her as his wife twenty years ago.

He knew such marriage alliances were forged to merge great houses and their bloodlines and to show strength, but it still didn't seem fair to him.

Yes, he enjoyed having a lot of sex with all sorts of women, be they were ladies in waiting, maids or the whores out in Flea Bottom.

But the thought of a future bride he didn't know, with whom he would spend his entire life, who would give him heirs, and who would most likely hate him, was more than a little frightening to him.

"Who is she?" Aegon asked his mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, after she told him of the marriage plans one sunny afternoon.

"Lady Tyrell of Highgarden. She is said to be beautiful, kind, and loving. Also very popular with her people. They say she goes out every Sunday to deliver bread to the townspeople."

Gods, have mercy on him...

His promised wife was apparently everything he was not. He was neither kind nor loving, and he certainly wasn't popular with the people.

Aegon was a drunkard, quick to anger and rebellious.

He could still remember the day he cut off his then-long, wavy hair. After Driftmark, he had simply needed a change, and it came in the form of copious amounts of wine and many nights out in the taverns and brothels with his companions.

When he had returned to the Red Keep the first thing in the morning and greeted his family at breakfast, Alicent had slapped him in the face, and Otto had dragged him back to his chambers by the collar.

They had called him a rabid dog. Chaotic, restless, and out of control.

And now someone like him was supposed to marry such a beautiful flower as Lady Tyrell?

No. Out of the question.

He couldn’t and he wouldn’t.

That thought had firmly settled in Aegon's mind... until the day finally came when he was allowed to meet you. And from then on, everything changed.

Your father, Lord Lambert Tyrell, rode a white horse in front of the carriage containing you, your Lady Mother, and your two sisters. You had no brother. Or rather, not yet, because rumor had it that your mother was with child again, even if she was past her prime.

Prince Aegon stood with his family in the courtyard of the Red Keep. His mother and grandfather had forced him to dress up, which is why he now wore his finest green doublet, his boots were polished, and his silver hair was neatly combed.

Queen Alicent stood beside him with her head held high, and every now and then he could feel her scrutinizing gaze on him. A gaze that made him feel small. Her dress was as green as the leaves of the King's Wood, and her fox-red hair was tied back in an elaborate hairstyle. A necklace with the seven-pointed star of the Faith of the Seven also adorned her neck.

At her side stood his younger sister Helaena, who was examining a small blue butterfly that had just landed on her hand, and his younger brother Aemond, who was staring fixedly at the ground and looked as if he wanted to murder someone.

His father, King Viserys, was, of course, absent in his condition. His old man often stayed in bed these days, where the maesters cared for him.

Oh, he loved this family.

The carriage doors opened, and suddenly it felt like the sun was shining brighter.

You were breathtaking.

In a pink gown with floral embroidery and long, wavy hair, you stood between your sisters and your mother. Like a brilliant red rose amidst pesky weeds.

He swallowed.

Aegon had considered so many possibilities beforehand. If you had been ugly, he would have simply told you, and you would have hated him, and everything would have been fine. But you are not ugly.

Apparently the gods were punishing him, for you were by far the most beautiful lady he had ever seen.

He hated it.

"The Lady Tyrell!" announced one of the bannermen of your house.

You stepped forward, and with every step you took toward him, the prince could feel his throat tighten. He couldn't breathe. He hadn't expected you to have such an effect on him.

If you had been any of the ladies he had a glimpse of in the castle, he wouldn't have hesitated to try to woo you and lure you into his bed, just so he could find someone else the next day.

But you weren't just any lady.

You were his future wife, the future mother of his children.

He couldn’t use you like that.

When you finally came to a stop in front of him, you bowed deeply and smiled at him with a warm, inviting look in your eyes. His heart leaped, and he didn't know how to react. He could feel his mother's gaze on him, and he knew she already believed he would ruin this marriage.

"My lady," he finally greeted you, giving you a small bow of his own.

There was no kiss on the hand, as expected. He had forgotten.

"My prince," you replied in a sweet voice, and in that moment he realized that you were indeed not untrue.

You were not like the others with their feigned smiles, their bold touches, or their provocatively low necklines. You were genuine.

But above all, you were kind, and that wasn't something you often found within the walls of the Red Keep.

"I hope your journey was pleasant?" he asked you, trying to sound polite. The perfect son and husband, just like his mother had always wanted.

Your smile widened, and there was a sparkle in your eyes that he had never seen before in any woman he spoke to. Joy.

"Yes, very much. But I must say, I already miss the gardens of my home. The scent, the colors... Nevertheless, I believe I can find my place at your court," you answered him gently.

Immediately, an idea planted itself in his mind. You missed the flowers? He would give you some.

He needed to prove to you that he wasn't just a drunkard and a disappointment. Perhaps then, once you were husband and wife, you wouldn't hate him completely.

"We have gardens as well. Sure, they will never get close to the beauty of the gardens in Highgarden, but I would still offer to show them to you?" he suggested with a shrug, as if it were no big deal and just something mentioned in passing.

"You would show me the gardens?" you asked him, blinking as if you couldn't believe it.

You had been told so many bad things about the prince beforehand. You were told that he was constantly drunk, that he always carried a glass of wine in his hand, that his hair was never combed, his clothes were never clean, and that he was always chasing the nearest skirt.

But the image you just got of him was a contrast to that.

You didn't see the prodigal son or the drunken prince, just a man like any other. A man you would like to get to know better.

"Perhaps you could let the lady inspect her new chambers first?" Queen Alicent suddenly interjected. "I am sure her journey has tired her out, and some rest would do her good."

Aegon and you were both about to object, but your father suddenly chimed in: "An excellent idea, Your Grace. We will rest first, and then we can break bread together."

You nodded obediently and curtsied again, this time to the queen, before disappearing into the castle with your mother, father and sisters.

Aegon sighed and was about to go back inside, when a hand suddenly turned around his arm.

"You are too hasty, Aegon," his mother reprimanded him.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What had he done wrong now?

"I just wanted to show her the gardens?" he replied questioningly.

"Which is something you can do after breakfast, too. She will be resting today, and in the evening we will have dinner together. Until then, behave yourself, do you hear me?"

He stared down at the ground beneath his feet. The biting edge of his mother's voice cut him as deeply as the sharpest dagger.

"Yes, Mother," he finally replied.

The Green Queen turned and disappeared into the castle corridors, whereupon Aemond followed her, and finally Helaena turned away as well. But not before muttering one last sentence:

"Flowers take time to bloom."

At dinner, he was drunk. How could he be otherwise? His mother's words had cut him deeply, and he couldn't help but devour one cup of Arbor Red after another.

You were sitting right next to him, and he just knew you were disappointed in him, too. You had to be. What lady so beautiful, pure, and kind would ever want a man like him? A drunkard and one that was useless.

You deserved better than this. Better than him.

Your sisters often whispered in your ear, and he knew it was about him. His terrible manners, his behavior, everything. You whispered back, and he knew you hated him. What else could it be?

What Aegon didn't know, however, was that you constantly contradicted your annoying sisters.

"He is drinking again," Flora whispered to you, rolling her eyes. She clearly didn't like your betrothed.

"With this family, I probably would too," you defended him, looking at her with eyes as piercing as if they were daggers.

Flora pursed her lips and shook her head. "I cannot understand why you like him."

For a moment, you looked at your future prince-husband. The expression on his handsome face was blank, and his gaze was distant, even as he stared into the dark red liquid in his bronze cup. The circles under his eyes were deep and dark, and his shoulder-length silver hair seemed uncombed, with a few strands falling wildly across his forehead.

He seemed sad. Lost.

You wanted to see him when he was happy.

You would tend him like one of your beloved roses in the garden your father had planted especially for you at home, and which your sisters would hopefully take care of in the future. And maybe, just maybe, he too would finally bloom under your care.

After dinner, the prince stumbled down the corridors toward his chambers. His vision was blurry, the world was spinning, and he felt so sick he was afraid he might empty the contents of his stomach into the nearest flower vase.

His hand stroked the cold, stone wall of the castle, which now felt more like a cage to him than anything else. He needed some form of support, because without it, he would probably fall to the floor without being able to stand up on his own.

It wasn't the first time this had happened, and it wouldn't be the last.

Suddenly, the wall he was holding on to ended next to him, and he could make out the outline of stairs on the floor in front of him. He took a step forward, but before he could stumble and fall down the grand staircase, a gentle hand wrapped around his arm, and he felt someone gently pull him back.

"You must be careful, my prince," you said gently, and he could feel a shiver run down his spine.

You were being gentle with him. So loving. Almost... motherly.

"I need to—my chambers," he stammered drunkenly, about to move on, but you gently pulled him back. You certainly didn't want your betrothed to fall down the stairs and die.

"I will accompany you, my prince. Let me help you."

Before he could even say a word for or against—although he would never have objected—you took him by the hand and led him down each step one by one. You kept telling him he was doing well and not to rush, as you would still need him. It made his heart race.

No one had ever cared for him like this.

At some point, you reached his chambers and you slowly led him inside. His rooms were messy and unclean, but that didn't bother you at the time. You could guess why he was doing this.

His family had placed a chain around him from which he couldn't escape.

The alcohol didn't help, but it seemed as if he still needed it to numb his senses. You hoped that one day he wouldn't need the bottle to escape his duties.

You hoped that one day you could take on that role.

You gently led him to his bed and chuckled as he flopped onto the mattress like a sack being tossed onto the pantry floor. He mumbled something, and you understood.

First, you slowly removed his boots and placed them beside his bed. Then you helped him slip out of his doublet, which you folded and laid on a chair. You placed his tunic right next to them, as well as his belt. You left his trousers on, not knowing how he would react, if you would touch him this way.

"Do you need anything else, my prince?" you asked him solicitously, but you received no answer. Not even a murmur.

Instead, you heard a soft snore, and you sighed.

With quiet steps, you approached the bed and looked down at the sleeping Targaryen. His features were relaxed, and he seemed to be sleeping calmly and peacefully. It suited him well.

You would love to see him so relaxed during the day.

You leaned forward carefully and stroked a silver strand of hair from his forehead ever so gently. He had his demons, but he was admittedly so very beautiful.

An angel in the sheets.

With a sigh, you finally got up and left his chambers so you could go to bed yourself. The day had been long, and you, too, were exhausted.

Aegon awoke the next morning with a throbbing behind his forehead and a great deal of confusion spreading within him.

He didn't know how he got to his chambers, nor who had undressed him. For a moment, he thought he had shared a bed with someone, but no woman lay beside him, and the sheets weren't dirty either. So he hadn't had a rendezvous.

Sitting up, he wiped the sleep from his eyes and let out a long, hearty yawn. But then his gaze fell on the small table that stood beside his bed. Instead of a bucket of wine, which should have been prepared, there was a cup of water and a small pink flower lay beside it.

It was you. You, his future wife. You, the woman he had thought would hate him.

You had cared for him in a way his mother never had. Your sweet, gentle nature was something he had never encountered before, but he wanted to experience it anew every day.

He barely knew you, and yet he was now certain that he loved you. He couldn't help it. Who could not love such a wonderful being as you?

And so he set out to find you.

He found you in the gardens of the Red Keep. The sky was clear, and the sun fell in soft rays onto your face, giving you an ethereal glow. Your hands stroked some of the rose petals, and you leaned closer to the bush to smell them. The smile that then formed on your face made his knees go weak.

What had he done to deserve a woman like you?

He approached you with slow steps, holding the flower you had left on his nightstand. The crack of a branch under his boot finally betrayed him.

"My prince," you said happily, beaming at him.

"My betrothed," he replied, giving you a small, uncharacteristic bow. He held out the flower for you to take.

A blush bloomed on your soft cheeks as you took the flower from him and tucked it behind your ear. The petals were the same color as your dress, which framed your body in such a way that he wished to worship you like a goddess.

"I wanted to apologize to you for last night," he began slowly, careful with each word. "I acted like a fool."

"Yes, you did," you replied in your soft, almost melodic voice. You expected something more.

"I have embarrassed and disgraced myself. I beg your pardon, my lady. Sincerely. From the bottom of my heart," he tried, holding his breath.

It was only a few seconds of silence, but to him it felt like an eternity.

But then you took a step toward him. And then another, and then another, until you had to tilt your head back slightly so you could still look into his eyes. Although not much, you were still a little shorter than him.

"I wish to be a good wife to you, Aegon," you began. "But in return, I would like to call you a husband I love and enjoy being around."

For a moment, Aegon didn’t know how to react. He wanted to jump in pure joy, take you in his arms, kiss you, push you against the nearest wall to show you how much you already meant to him, but instead he just stared at you.

"Aegon?" you asked carefully, placing one of your delicate hands on his arm. The gesture sent a spark through his entire body, a flame that would never go out.

"What do I have to do?" he asked instead. "Please, I want to be good. I want your love, your trust. I want you."

Your hand slid gently down his arm, and Aegon felt as if he had reached the arms of heaven. Finally, you intertwined your fingers with his and squeezed lovingly.

"If you declare me worthy of your love and affection, then I would gladly have it," you answered with a smile that melted his heart.

He nodded immediately and brought your clasped hands to his face, where he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. After all, he had missed it during your first meeting.

You, too, leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to the back of his hand.

He smiled at you, and you smiled back.

And when he leaned in and his lips brushed against yours in a feather light kiss, you and he both knew that your marriage would not be a disappointment.

He would prove it to his mother. He would prove it to you.

And he would be the best husband you could possibly have.

For you.

His love, his beautiful rose.

The Divider is from the wonderful @zaldritzosrose !

Taglist: @bey0nd-1he-stars @sassypain @hisfavegirl @dahaenatargaryen

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fanfic #tom glynn carney

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monamipencil · 6 months ago

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when strawberries bloom (teaser)

“When the strawberries bloom, I'll be by your side.”

premise. mingyu is content with his life in the capitol as a victor, although he's haunted by the images of the nightmare he lived ten years ago. but all that comes to an abrupt stop, when he discovers that you—his greatest demise had been alive all this time.

content. hunger games! au, victor! mingyu, f! reader, pseudo major character death, hints of trauma, mingyu is a blink away from alcohol poisoning, capitol shenanigans, this is set in the period of second rebellion, slow burn, jealousy, both of them are in denial, fight scenes, friends to lovers (?) to strangers to rivals (it's one sided??) to ???, angst, fluff, crack, smut. heavy fruit metaphor, yearning, pining, happy ending.

warnings. will be added in the fic post.

word count. tba.

release date. around december end.

author’s note. this is a part of the ‘catching fire’ collab hosted by @vitaminkyeom. i'm very excited to write this and share with you guys. though i'm barely done with fic, i thought i'd put out as a teaser to fuel me to finish it. and pls feel free to come to my inbox and scream abt this fic <33 send an ask to be added to the taglist !

Mingyu controls a deep sigh as yet another woman presses herself against him in the name of dancing. He fakes his gaze, pretending to be enamoured. The strong perfume she’d used makes his head throb, and irritate his nostrils.

The woman whispers sultrily, “I can’t believe I got you all to myself tonight.”

She flutters her eyelashes at him, her hands playing with the tie of his masquerade mask. It only covers the lower half of his face—a skillfully sculpted skull mask, lined with golden chains. He avoids looking at her, eyes darting all over the room to find something to fixate on.

His lack of attention doesn’t seem to faze the woman as she only steps in closer. He bites his tongue and focuses on the details of the mansion. Gold painting lines the ivory walls that are basked in the dim lights of the party now. Grand, maroon curtains hangs by the arched windows, slightly swaying as the wind flows in.

Awe turns into confusion which is replaced by disappointment when his eyes land on a glowing liquor fountain. But if he’s really honest, he’s a bit intrigued and his tongue feels dry, aching for the bitter taste of alcohol on it.

Another shift of his eyes lands on a familiar lady, adorned in a black gown and dancing with an old man. He recognizes you as the lady from the balcony though your face is now obscured with a masquerade mask. Relief floods through his system, if he had to catch another glance at your face, his heart would stop beating once and for all.

But as Mingyu had discovered long ago, things never really go the way he wishes them to. You turn your head, catching his gaze. Heat floods his cheeks and all the oxygen trickles out his lungs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you maintain eye contact. He doesn’t realise that he had stopped dancing till the woman whines. The sound prickles his skin, sending a shot of annoyance through him.

All the voices around Mingyu drown out, turning into a mere buzz. A vine wraps around his heart, its thorns puncturing the gentle muscle. He watches as you shift your attention. Your beautiful lips curving into a smile, reacting to whatever the man had said. Your body leaning towards the old gamemaker, drawing attention to your cleavage. Rage courses through his veins along with another feeling. Jealousy.

The feeling is foreign to him and he can’t even deduce why he’s jealous. Or, he knows why he’s jealous but even that mere idea seems incredulous. Still envy coils in his gut, rattling its tail at him and mocking him. Your eyes land on him again, and his heart skips a beat.

Just then, the song switches, carrying a seductive note. Soon, the woman is whisked away and not even a second later, you end up in his arms. His hands skate down your silk gown to the small of your back and he pulls you flush against him. The proximity makes your breath hitch and you place your arm on his shoulders, swaying to the notes. Your breaths mingle together, body heat diffusing into one.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe you look too much like her, but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. With a sudden craving of intimacy, he holds you tight against him and the other intertwines with your left hand as you both sway to the flowing music.

Any rational thought is chucked out his mind. The more he looks into your eyes, the more you look like her. In contrast to his prior wish, he wants your mask gone now. It obscures most of your face, cutting off near your right cheekbone to expose your right eye.

He brushes stray hair aside. His soft, manicured nail beds caress the exposed skin off your face. You tighten your hold on him, doe eyes staring up at him with something he can’t pinpoint. His heartbeat quickens, a strange nostalgia permeates the air. Mingyu swears that this has happened before, a sense of deja vu fills his veins.

Before he could comprehend his own actions, he undoes your mask. The sultry note tunes out into nothingness and the world seems to have stopped spinning. The mask hits the ground with a clank that gets muffled in the shock of the revelation.

And there stands Kim Mingyu with his long lost lover and best friend who’s supposedly dead.

You mirror his expression, horror staining your face as you shuffle to retrieve your mask. All while he stands still, going over the millions of possibilities. Why and how are you alive? Or is this a sick joke that someone is trying to play on him?

You try to slip away from him, but he catches your hand, stopping you in your tracks. His grip tightens when you try to pull your hand away. His fingers brush over a bump on your skin, drawing attention to it. His eyes land on a scar that runs from the palm of your left hand to your wrist.

Just then, you free yourself from his grip and escape into the bustling crowd of the party, leaving him alone. Though the mansion is filled with hundreds of citizens, an impermeable bubble seems to surround him—as if no one had witnessed what had occurred. It makes Mingyu question whether you’re real or if he made you up, like a mad man.

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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago

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The fae princess proposal was angsty but all I could think about was the couriers going.

Couriers who hate reader: It's the best news the king is finally going to marry a REAL fae and not some prey dressing like one.

Couriers who've been pinning after reader: So what you're saying is reader is going to be back on the market soon?!?!?!?

Couriers who hate reader: What?! Who would ever want to marry a human?!

Couriers who've been pinning after reader: Answer the dang question! Is reader going to be single again?!

Like John and the boys better squash that or else reader might just get stolen. Or Alternatively the fae princess just wants reader and is using the marriage proposal to get to her. Cause fae princess knows John won't divorce reader and she's been looking to slip into readers bed. She knows John ignores reader so setting herself up as a friend and later lover is her best plan (plus I keep imagining Farah as the fae princess)

Imma focus on the first part 🤤 cw: angst but not that much

You were something borrowed, not beloved.

The thoughg lay thick in the silence that followed you now, like ash on your tongue, heavy and bitter and clinging. You did not cry, and you did not scream. You did what you always did- pushed it down, deep, beneath bone and duty and cracked pride.

You picked up your quill, and continued your work- for peace for everyone was for more important than peace just for you.

But still, the kingdom always watched. The court always whispered. And not everyone believed what they were told to believe- even if it was from their King and thier advisors; not everyone had been fooled by crowns and smiles and the new, glittering bride paraded through the moonlit halls like a victory.

Some of them still saw you.

Some of them had only ever seen you, if they ever were forced to admit it.

The gift came in a box of carved rosewood- small and discreet and left on your vanity. A brooch inside, fashioned of starlight glass and obsidian, shaped like a moth. Not Glowy, not exactly, but close enough to be unmistakable. The note was unsigned, and Glowy was already flapping its wings happily at the sight of the gift.

“You’ve outshone every flame in this court, my Queen.”

Then, a few days later, the next arrived.

An invitation- handwritten, on fine pressed vellum- to a private gathering in the Duchess of Mosstomb’s moonlit garden. “A gathering of minds,” she’d called it, though the subtle weight of suggestion soaked every word as did her soft perfume that settled quiet into your mind. You would be the only guest of honor, you assumed.

You went, of course. Not like you had anyone to question you. Not like you wanted anyone to question you when the beautiful Duchess handfed you honeyed bread and roasted nuts by her own clawed fingers like an offering to a god.

And of course, others came.

Flowers with petals that moved as though breathing, accompanied by poems in ink that shimmered like frost; a saddle crafted from wyvern hide and mooncloth- “for Thrain, if he would deign to let another touch him.”- scrawled with a sharp, elegant script; paintings left on your desk- not of your fae-adorned mask, but of you. Soft. Unmade. Reading by firelight. Braiding your own hair. Smiling, faintly, at something just beyond the frame. Draped in flowy, light fabrics like a blessed maiden.

A lord from the far northh bowed low before you in the corridor, offering you a crystal vial of firefly tears. “To soothe eyes worn down by too many hours of work,” he murmured. His gaze lingered, almost reverent, and he kissed the back of your hand that reached to accept that vial.

And there were still others; somany others.

The courtiers, the younger nobles, the bored wives of powerful men, men who clung to your like fireflies to light- each drawn to the quiet ache of you. To the softness beneath your thorns. The tragedy stitched behind your smile.

They watched the new bride be ushered to their throne, draped in opal and praise. Watched the High King and his men hover, ever attentive, ever devoted- now. Now, when it was easy. Now, when it looked perfect.

They saw you, alone in the hall. Saw you working late beneath lamps of goldroot flame. Saw you carry yourself with dignity even as the entire realm shifted its eyes away.

And they thought: If they do not want her, we will take her. And why shouldn’t they? You were not bound in the ways that mattered now.

The High King had not spoken your name once in the announcement. Had not sought you out for comfort. Had not told the realm to remember who had bought them peace through sacrifice.

If you were not beloved- then you were free.

And freedom, in the fae court, is a flame no suitor can resist. Let us woo you, they whispered. Let us try, beautiful Queen.

Because if the kings would not treasure what they’d been given, the rest of the realm- those with enough sense to not be blinded by prejudices- would gladly worship the woman they abandoned.

#noona.asks #noona.writes #fae angst au

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parkerslatte · 9 months ago

Text

At Last

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of scars. mentions of mild torture. injury.

Summary: Y/N reunites with Azriel after she comes back from Under the Mountain and finish a long overdue conversation.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

50 Years Ago

“Y/N, can we talk?” Azriel’s voice was strangely quiet and uneasy as he stood in the doorway, shadows restlessly moving around his frame.

Turning away from the mirror, Y/N greeted Azriel with a smile. “Of course. I’m just finishing up here. I can’t decide which earrings to wear tonight.”

“The diamond ones bring out your eyes,” Azriel said as he stepped into the room. “How long do you have?”

“I’m not sure,” Y/N said, fastening the diamond earrings to her ears. “Rhys said he’d collect me when we need to leave.”

“Right,” Azriel mumbled before looking at the dress that adorned her body. “You look beautiful.”

Y/N walked over to Azriel and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, causing a faint blush to dust his cheeks. “Thank you, Az. So what did you wish to talk about?”

Azriel slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his heart beating rapidly. “Well, I—“

Another knock at the bedroom door caught Azriel’s attention. Rhys stood there. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”

Y/N nodded as Rhys left to wait for her outside. She turned to Azriel.

“What did you want to say?” Y/N asked.

Azriel looked down at his hands. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You should leave with Rhys, you don’t want to be late.”

“No, it’s okay. Tell me now,” Y/N insisted.

“It will take too long,” Azriel said. “I will tell you when you return.”

Y/N sighed. “Fine. But it will be the very moment my feet step back in this room.”

Azriel smiled. It was small but it was there. “I promise I will tell you then.”

Y/N smiled. “I’ll see you later, Az.”

“See you later,” Azriel said.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders and he melted into her touch. He hugged her back tightly, inhaling the scent he loved so much. If she would allow it, Azriel would pull her back into her bed and hold her to him for all of eternity. All he wanted was to be wrapped in her arms.

When Y/N pulled away, Azriel reluctantly let go and stood from the bed. She bid him goodbye and left him standing within her empty bedroom.

The bedroom would remain empty for fifty years.

Present day

Once again Azriel felt himself walking past the empty room of the female he loved more than anything else alive. It was nearly thirty years ago when Cassian finally convinced Azriel to leave her room after he slept in it night after night, praying for her to return to him. Her scent was slowly replaced with his own.

It had been years since Azriel had stepped into the room. He had gone as far as opening the door but he couldn’t bring himself to step inside anymore. He always stared at the bed where Azriel sat when he was about to confess his feelings. If only he had told her then. Perhaps he would have delayed both Y/N and Rhys enough for them to decide to stay home. Then they would both be with him, Cassian, Mor and Amren.

Azriel sighed and rubbed his eyes. As he did so, his hand caught onto the earring hanging from his ear. It was Y/N’s earring, the very ones she had taken off before she put the diamond ones in. Azriel’s ears weren’t even pierced when she was trapped, but when he could finally leave her room without tears falling down his face, he had asked Mor to pierce them for him.

Azriel touched the earring fondly and slowly inhaled.

He frowned.

That familiar scent. The scent he loved. It wafted from the room.

Azriel hadn’t smelt the scent ever since it faded from Y/N’s belongings.

With shaking hands, Azriel reached to touch the door handle and slowly pushed down. The cream emitting from it echoed down the empty hall. His heart pounded in his chest as his hope rose.

Light filtered into the hall and cast over Azriel’s face. He squinted, allowing his eyes to adjust to the intrusion. He let go of the door and allowed it to slowly open on its own until he was illuminated by light.

A figure stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around themselves as they stared out of the window.

Azriel’s heart stopped.

“Y/N?” His voice was small and quiet, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Y/N turned and faced Azriel. Her hair was longer and knotted as if she hadn’t styled it in weeks. There was bruises and cuts in her arms and scars wrapping around her wrists as if shackles had been there once upon a time.

Azriel took a step forward.

“Please say something if it is really you, Y/N,” Azriel whispered. “I can’t trust my own eyes at this point.”

“Az,” Y/N sobbed as tears immediately began to fall down her cheeks. “It’s really me.”

Azriel didn’t take a single moment to linger. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head into the crook of her neck. She was solid in his arms.

“I missed you so much,” Azriel cried, allowing his tears to fall.

“I missed you too,” Y/N sobbed, clutching onto Azriel even tighter.

The feeling of her in his arms was one Azriel hadn’t felt in fifty years yet it was one he remembered in all of those lonely nights where all he could think about was Y/N.

“How are you here?” Azriel asked, gently caressing Y/N’s face as he looked at her. “Is Rhys here too?”

Y/N nodded, holding onto Azriel’s shirt tightly. “A human called Feyre helped us. She saved us all.”

Azriel wiped her tears away and rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t believe you're here. What happened?”

“Amarantha,” Y/N spat. “I’m glad that devil is dead. She kept me chained up for the first five years.”

Azriel glanced at the scars wrapping around Y/N’s wrists. He pressed a gentle kiss against them.

“She doused my food in faebane so I wouldn’t heal properly,” Y/N said.

Azriel hugged her once more. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

He felt Y/N shake her head. “I am glad you weren’t. You were safe here. You were protecting everything and everyone in the city by being here.”

“When Rhys sent that message, I was ready to follow. I was ready to march in and slaughter Amarantha myself,” Azriel confessed. “I would have done anything to get you back.”

“And Rhys,” Y/N added.

“And Rhys,” Azriel confirmed.

Y/N pulled back and studied Azriel’s face. “I was beginning to forget what you looked like. You became just a blur in my mind for the past few years.”

A single tear slipped down Azriel’s cheek and Y/N wiped it away.

“I never thought I would see you again,” Y/N continued. “The first couple of years I was expecting to leave, that someone would find a way. But then more years passed and nothing happened. More and more years passed and it was the same thing day in day out. But do you know what kept me going, Azriel? Do you know what kept me wanting to live when everything got too difficult? When Amarantha decided that I was taking up too much space and decided to beat me?”

Azriel shook his head.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “It was you. I thought of your smile, your laugh when you think no one is listening. Your touch, your scent, your feel. I always thought about you and that conversation we never got to have. It has been on my mind for half a century. I have wondered what you wanted to talk about that night.”

“Well,” Azriel said. “We are in the room where I promised to tell you.”

Y/N rested her forehead against Azriel’s. “Then tell me. Tell me the answer to the question I never got an answer to.”

There was a small pause as Azriel laced his fingers with Y/N’s.

“That night was the night I finally found the courage to do something I was scared to do for a long time,” Azriel said. “I was scared of messing things up and the way you would react. I didn’t want to ruin whatever relationship I had with you. But it got too painful not to tell you. Seeing you everyday, looking so beautiful, it was going to slip out eventually.”

“What are you saying, Azriel?” Y/N asked.

“I am saying that I am in love with you,” Azriel confessed. “I am utterly in love with you, Y/N. I have been for centuries. These past fifty years have been torture without you.”

Y/N didn’t answer as she stared down at their linked hands. Azriel’s heart sank. .

“Listen, if you don’t return my feelings, I am not going to force you, but I need you to know. I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer,” Azriel said. “If you don’t love me, I understand. We can both move on with our lives.”

If she didn’t return his feelings, Azriel knew that he would never be able to move on. He loved her too much and he knew that it would be unfair to anyone else he fell into a bed with.

“Azriel, it’s been fifty years,” Y/N said. “And you still love me?”

Azriel nodded. “I do. My feelings have never changed or wavered even a little. I slept in your room for twenty years after you were trapped. I was a mess. I didn’t keep up with any of my duties or training. Ask Cassian, Mor or Amren.”

“You love me?” Y/N asked.

“I do,” Azriel confirmed. “You are the love of my life even if I am not the love of yours.”

Y/N slowly slipped her hands out of Azriel’s and his heart plummeted to his feet, but the moment she caressed his face, he felt it spring back up.

“You love me,” Y/N said. This time it was phrased less like a question and more like a statement. “That was what you wanted to tell me when we were in this room fifty years ago?”

Azriel nodded. He couldn’t get words out as they were caught on his tongue.

A small smile graced Y/N’s face. “I see Rhys’s prediction was correct.”

“Prediction?” Azriel questioned.

“Thirty years in, Rhys asked me about what you and I were talking about. We never saw each other much, Amarantha kept Rhys all to herself most of the time and me chained up. There was a night where I was finding everything too different and Rhys found me. He asked me about the night we left and what we were talking about. When I told him you never got to tell me, we made a small game out of it. We would guess ridiculous things as to what you wished to speak with me about. It was the only form of entertainment we had. Although now I guess not all of Rhys’s guesses were a complete joke,” Y/N explained.

“When Rhys said that you were coming to confess your undying love to me, I laughed. Because I thought that there was no way that you would be in love with me. I was so in denial that you love me back that I didn’t even consider that Rhys was correct. I thought you coming to tell me that you were somehow pregnant as a more plausible theory,” Y/N said, avoiding eye contact.

While Y/N’s right hand remained on the side of his face, she trailed her left down to link their fingers together. Azriel caressed the hand that rested on his head, pressing a soft kiss to her palm.

“I love you too, Azriel,” Y/N admitted. “It was my love for you that kept me fighting every day. Fighting to someday return to you.”

Azriel closed his eyes, savouring her touch, afraid that somehow he would wake up alone in his cold bed.

Another tear fell down his face but nothing compared to Y/N who was freely crying now.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Azriel cried.

A sob slipped past Y/N’s lips and Azriel pulled her into him, wrapping his wings around them both, cocooning them in their own small world. His shadows softly caressed her skin and where scars littered themself on her soft flesh.

“I can’t believe I’m free,” Y/N sobbed. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

Azriel’s fingers tangled in her hair as he let her cry into his chest. He held her so tightly, so securely that if anything tried to take her again, Azriel would make sure that it never happened— and it never will happen again.

“Can you do something for me?” Y/N asked.

“Anything,” Azriel muttered.

“Can you kiss me?” Y/N said. “I’ve only been able to dream about what it would feel like.”

Azriel offered her a soft smile. “Anything else you want me to do.”

“Stay with me,” Y/N said. “Stay with me and never let me go.”

“My love,” Azriel said, cupping her face between his hands. “I will stay with you for eternity. I will love you for eternity. You don’t need to ask.”

Y/N smiled widely, cutting through her grief and sadness like a knife. Azriel smiled in return, offering her one of his true, genuine smiles specifically reserved for her.

As he leaned forward to connect their lips, that golden thread that connected two souls snapped into place.

#acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff

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feyascorner · 1 year ago

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Astarion would never admit it, but the charming lines he uses as a constant attempt to seduce you are not all his own.

He’s talented, he knows, at coming up with the heart skipping lines, describing in detail the massive amount of so-called ‘adoration’ he says he can give. He knows how to flirt, and he knows even better that despite the way you roll your eyes, he’s starting to wedge his way into your heart.

But sooner or later, ideas come to an end. And he’s starting to think you’re incapable of falling in love if he’s used all his lines and you still haven’t approached him. Perhaps you just don’t do romance. But hope wavers. Why he’s so adamant on wrapping you of all companions around his finger, he doesn’t know. He knows you’re the most difficult to seduce, yet he can’t help himself.

You’re almost like a drug to him.

So, unable to quit, he turns to his books. They’re sappy romances, and many of the lines even manage to make him scrunch his nose, scoffing at the sheer disbelief of how unrealistic some of the scenarios are. But hours upon hours later, he picks out some of the most upfront lines, because he’s sure you’ll just ignore him otherwise.

He knows you have little interest in romance, but he wants to entice you. He wants to be good enough for you to look at him.

“I must confess that the moment I laid eyes on you, everything in my body and soul told me you were the one.”

You stare at him, eyes lidded and barely fazed. Puzzled, he has no choice but to continue.

“My heart beats terribly, my beloved, whenever I see you bathing in the glory of the sun. My breath quickens, but vanishes when you get a step closer. My very existence, it seems, is meant to yearn for you,” he rattles off the lines of the book, as enticingly as he can, with eyes so seductive that they almost appear to glow. “Your beauty is unmatched with any other. If you asked, I would die—“

“—a million times in the thorns adorning my own desire,” you cut in, and his eyes widen. “The skies could fall and I would use my bloodied body to hold you up again, against the starry nights as a star gleaming brightest in its competition.”

As you finish the line, he blinks, completely and utterly confused. “How did you-“

“It’s my favorite book,” you confess sheepishly.

Astarion, for the first time, sees you as you are. He sees you as the being who yearns for love, just as a young maiden would yearn for their prince—perhaps even more innocent. He’s read you completely wrong, and he feels his throat close up. “It’s…it’s a childish one.”

Your cheeks burn, and he thinks you almost look cute. He rips away from the thoughts though, appalled at what he just considered. “I think it’s romantic.”

“No kind of love is so ideal.”

And while your face falls, you lift your head to look at him with squinted eyes. “…next time, just make your own lines—-or, at least, don’t choose ones that don’t fit you.”

“Don’t fit me? How so?”

“I doubt we would’ve fallen in love at first sight. You had a knife to my throat.”

“A loving knife.”

You stifle a laugh, and he swears he can’t take his eyes off of you. “Well…if you want, I have other books in my tent if you want to see…I have a few you might like, or at least, help.”

He just stares at you, only realizing moments later that you were awaiting an answer. “Ah, of course, darling. I’d love to accompany you. Perhaps I’ll learn a new line or two, though I doubt any writing has as much charisma as myself.”

You smile softly, nodding. “Okay then. Come over tonight after dinner, and I’ll show you.”

And as you walk away, he thinks that rather than him doing the charming and you falling irrevocably in love with him as it should have gone, your interaction has left him charmed instead.

It seems the romance novels are more than just effective at their jobs.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 1 year ago

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𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

synopsis: your knight who is sworn to protect you is also who you sneak around wirh

tags: princess and knight trope, kingdom au, explicit, vulgar, cunnalingus, oral, penetration

wrd cnt: 1.8k

a/n: i need argenti

“A paragon knight of the Knights of Beauty. He embodies righteousness and honor, possessing an admirable nobility”

Oh please. Honor?

Like many others across the universe, you too were struck by the sophistication and beauty of Argenti.

But unlike the rest of them, you were close enough to see the thorns that adorn the rose.

Sure, Argenti is calm and courteous but spending enough time with him led you to see the truth behind the petals.

He’s so very kind, and praiseful.

Incredibly honest, especially about his lust.

Eager and forward, especially about how much he craves you.

Careful and humble, except when he fucks you.

His favorite place to do so is in the most ironic place of all, the Keep.

The strongest and safest place in the castle.

You weren’t blameless, he was once as hard as steel and now his hardness came from somewhere other than his heart.

It was something you were familiar with, especially when he snuck you out of your bed chamber and carried you to the Keep.

The minute the door closed, he’d pull you into him, pressing your body against his silver plates.

It wasn’t enough, as he dropped pieces of armor off him along with your clothes, quickly unwinding the bindings along the back of your corset and watching the rest of your fabric come down with it.

He trails a hand down your chest, first pulling your neck closer to his face so he could plant kisses down it, making sure to not leave marks; but he desperately wanted to. The entire kingdom adorned you, but he wanted so eagerly to show them he was yours. That he was the only person taking your breast into his mouth, and hearing your soft noises while he sat you down on his thigh and held your hips tight while pushing them back and forth.

He loved it when you said his name, even more when you moan.

He kept his hands planted on you, kissing and licking down your stomach.

“Argenti- please….”.

Without any hesitation, he obliged.

Only a “Yes, my princess” falling from his lips before they touch your inner thigh.

He picked you up and sat you down on a barrel, much higher up so he could stand tall and look up into your eyes while he ate you. Most eagerly at that.

“Fuck- yes! Just like that!” You sqeal, watching his blazen eyes never leave yours while his tongue circles your clit, his fingers prodding your hole and making the most insidious noises from your wet heat.

He wasn’t incredibly gentle in his ways, but chilvary never dies.

He always held your hand, soothed over your skin, and kissed every orifice before ruining it.

He was quick to tell you that he’d be there for you, always.

Even if you had no idea what was happening, he was there to help.

He’s been waiting a lifetime for you, and he’s here to fulfill your needs.

All of them.

And you loved him for it.

With a loud moan, he finally pulls his head away from between your legs and looks up at you, catching your eyes with his own.

“Ready, your highness?” He asked with a smile, knowing full well the answer.

He picks you up, holding you

He picks you up, holding you close to his chest and then pushes you down onto the barrel, looking down at you with his fiery eyes.

“I am”.

“Good, because I need this too…so desperately.” He says, before unsheathing his sword.

“Don’t move”.

He says, putting a finger over your lips, a stern expression on his face as he starts to enter you slowly, inch by inch.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/n-.” He says as he enters you fully, gripping your thighs and thrusting deeper into you with each passing moment.

He grabs both sides of your hips, as he fucks you faster.

“Aeons, you’re beautiful.” He whispers into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to cover your entire body.

You feel him start to go harder and deeper, until suddenly he stops and pulls out completely.

“Please don’t stop.” You beg, reaching for his cock and wrapping your hand around it, stroking it gently as he watches you intently.

“I have something else in mind….” He says firmly, turning you around so you’re facing away from him, straddling him as he holds onto your hips.

“Now, sit down slowly and take me deep inside of you.” He commands, leaning back against the wall and relaxing as you follow his orders, sitting down slowly until he’s buried deep within you.

“There we go, that’s perfect. Now just start- fuck…up and down slow and steady.” He says encouragingly, placing a hand on your lower back to support you as he pulls on your long braid.

You obey him without question, starting to grind against him slowly at first before picking up the pace.

“That’s right, just like that.” He moans, running his hands up and down your sides as he watches you pleasure him.

“Keep going, love. You’re doing great.” He encourages, his voice growing increasingly more desperate as he nears climax.

“Oh god, yes!” You cried out, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to climax as you keep going.

“Come on, Princess, give me everything. I need all of it- all of you.” He begs, tightening his grip on your ass as you pick up the pace even further.

“Yes! Yes- Fuck!” You scream, feeling him cum deep inside of you as you continue to grind against him until your release quickly follows.

“Thank you, Princess.”

#jo’s posts #hsr smut #hsr #smut #honkai star rail #hsr argenti #argenti #argenti smut #honkai star rail argenti #argenti fic #argenti fanfic #argenti hsr

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milswrites · 1 year ago

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The light which persists

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel finds his source of happiness in the most unlikely of places.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors Dni (p in v)

It's strange how Azriel could identify the very moment in which his life had just changed forever. All it took was one look, a second-long glance in your direction, and the shadowsinger was certain that his entire world had just shifted. Whether it be by the cauldrons design or his own, Azriel had no doubt that your fate was to be entwined with his.

It was unbeknownst to Azriel, how a flower as lovely as you could bloom in the toxic gardens of the Court of Nightmares. Yet here you were, sitting across from the male in this tedious meeting, a soft smile adorning your lips as Azriel admired you in all your beauty. A rose untouched by the thorns of her less than savoury counterparts.

The radiant aura you permeated acted like a beacon, a glowing light of warmth and comfort. Your bright signal subconsciously drawing Azriel into your safe harbour. He had yet to hear your voice and Azriel was already sure that whatever sweet nectar poured from your lips would coat his mind like honey, pulling him deeper still into the soothing waters of your tangible soul.

Azriel failed to register the dull words which Kier was speaking, his thoughts occupied by you and only you. In fact the shadowsinger found it impossible to tear his eyes from you. Afraid that if he were to do so for even a second, whatever hypnotic spell you had cast upon him would be severed and his world would be rudely shifted back to the mundaneness of its usual orbit.

Instead, his hazel eyes stayed locked on you, Azriel’s searching gaze committing your delicate features to memory. Noting the slight furrow of your brows knitting together and the growing pout of your plush lips as you listened to Kier’s absurd proposition, his chest tingling with satisfaction at the sight of the flames which flickered in your determined eyes. And when you finally spoke, each syllable which fell from your lips had Azriel clinging on for more, entranced by the power which laced every well-spoken word.

Azriel had only received but a taste of your presence and yet he was already addicted. The tantalizingly delicious way your light coursed through his veins was a feeling the male wished never to forget. He would bottle it if he could, squirrel away a piece of your light and take it back with him to Velaris so he could experience the high which had been gifted from you whenever the male wished.

And so, with your gravitational pull too mesmerizing to resist, the shadowsinger became a ghost in the ebony halls of Hewn City's palace. A shadowed phantom haunting the corridors, hoping to receive just a glimpse of your warming light with the goal of replenishing his well. Returning day after day to silently bask in the glory of your presence.

Even his shadows had fallen victim to your siren’s song, enraptured by the comfort your luminesce provided. The smoky tendrils slipping from Azriel’s control in order to seek you out and soak up the warmth of your prevailing light.

It was therefore no surprise when you noticed the new little followers who trailed after you like lost puppies as you walked through the winding halls of the palace of nightmares. Bringing you a warm satisfaction when you were able to return them to the blushing shadowsinger who always seemed to be hiding nearby.

It wasn’t long before the days where Azriel’s visits to the Court of Nightmares which were once filled with harrowing screams and cries for mercy were now few and far between. Instead, no longer needing to pine after you from a distance, his visits involved friendly walks through the gardens in Hewn. The twisted vines and dull flowers failing to hold a candle to the beauty which was you.

Azriel’s senses were right that day he had first met you, it was destined for both of your fates to be intertwined. Far behind were the days of being strangers, and soon, so were the days of being friends. The shadowsinger’s growing love for you was why it didn’t take long for the cruel city to become one of Azriel’s favourite places to be.

It was the highlight of Azriel’s day, wandering through the winding avenues of Hewn City as he made his way to your home under the cover of his obedient shadows. Following the faint glow which led him through the familiar streets, its presence holding the draining aura of the wretched city’s air at bay until he had safely passed through the threshold of your home.

And just like the day he first met you where you knocked his world off kilter with only one glance, a single look at your beaming face as he entered was all Azriel needed to feel the worries of his arduous day start to slowly ebb away.

A single look being enough to remind the male just how in love with you he had grown to be. Thankful that the prayers whispered from the dark cage of his childhood had finally been answered, because the gods have given him you.

Only you had the power to illuminate his life. Your presence a lighthouse which called him back from the festering darkness of where he once inhabited. Azriel could withstand anyone, any place, even the looming evil of the Court of Nightmares, if only it meant he was weathering them with you.

One look was all it took to muddle his senses and scramble his thoughts. Clearing Azriel’s mind of all the sweet things he had planned of saying to you as his lips came to meet yours instead.

Azriel kissed the same way he fought, rough and calculated. Each skilled brush of his tongue and sinful nip to your swollen lips done with the intention of drawing sounds of pleasure from you. But Azriel didn’t only kiss to please, every swirl of his warm tongue sought to absorb more and more of your comforting light. The two of you locked in a passionate kiss which was only growing wilder as he attempted to sate his never-ending hunger for you.

His scarred hands explored every inch of your body that they could possibly reach as his salacious lips moved to devour the soft skin of your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive flesh until the purple marks of his labour began to appear in the wake of his reddening lips. Pleased with the desperate manner of which Azriel was attacking your neck you teasingly pulled away from the male, lips pulling into a smile as you goaded him, “What no hello? You’re not going to ask me how my day has been?”

Groaning at the distance you had created between you, Azriel closed the space once more, leaning forwards until his lips tantalizingly brushed against your ear. Using his teeth to gently tug on your lobe until his lips upturned into a cocky smirk, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he spoke lowly, “Why should I when we both already know that your day is about to get a whole lot better?”

“Confident in your skills are we?” you teased, not missing the twinkle which flashed in Azriel’s lustful gaze.

“Why don’t I show you?” Azriel asked, hovering his warm lips over your own, your sultry eyes glancing up at him through the shadow of your eyelashes, “And then you can tell me just how good my skills are.”

Azriel fucked well, there was no doubt about it.

Having done the act with him hundreds of times you were familiar with his unforgiving pace and the brutal force behind his thrusts. Azriel fucked like a man starved, seeking to steal every ounce of pleasure from you possible with each wild snap of his hips.

Yet tonight something was different, Azriel still drew the same cries of strangled pleasure from your lips, though his hips worked at a slower pace. The male taking his time to tear you apart, the leisurely pounding of his cock into your heat working to slowly bring you to your completion.

Tonight Azriel wasn't just fucking you, he was making love. His eyes, once blown black with lust, were now filled with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher and each languid thrust of his insatiable hips pulled soft moans and whimpers from your mouth. Your sounds matched by the shadowsinger's strangled groans escaping from his own lips at the newfound softness of the moment.

His stable hands entwined with your own, fingers laced together as he gently moved your hands to rest on either side of your head. Trapping you beneath him as he patiently drew you closer and closer to your high. Azriel was an expert of torture, never failing to stop the arduously slow rhythm of his thrusts no matter how much you cried for him to go faster.

The heat from his loving gaze becoming too difficult to withstand at the steady pace he was keeping and so you snapped your begging hips to meet his, allowing his cock to hit that sweet spot inside your core, urging the male to seek his high quicker.

A low rumbling laugh tore from his mouth, that cocky smirk once more returning to his lips as he continued his torturous pace. "So good for me princess," he crooned, his words stirring the butterflies in your stomach, aiding to pull you closer and closer to the high you were nearing, "You take me so well." The regular pulse of his hips unwavering, the repeated rhythm inching you closer and closer to satisfaction.

"Keep your eyes on me" he warned as the blissful wave of release began to wash over you, a scream of pleasure escaping from your lips as he finally began to speed his thrusts, "Don't stop looking at me my love."

It was Azriel's turn to reach his high, but it wasn't just satisfaction he was chasing, it was the glowing ball of light which stemmed from you that Azriel longed to absorb. Each mighty thrust working towards reaching that light, growling with the effort of reaching his completion.

Once he had found it, and that familiar golden glow had settled in his chest, Azriel's hunger was sated as his high washed over him and he spilled into your aching core. Panting in time with you as he carefully drew his cock from your heat and pulled your aching body into his soothing embrace, whispering sweet words of affirmation into your ringing ears. Aiding in bringing you down from your crushing high.

It was in the wake of his overwhelming pleasure, still inebriated by the intoxicating feel of your warming light, that the words slipped unceremoniously from his lips. "Come with me" he blurted, that unknown emotion from earlier still dancing in his begging eyes.

"What?" you asked breathlessly, unsure what it was that the male was asking for. Sensing their master's wavering nerves, his shadows had made their appearance. Slowly travelling across your heated skin, their soothing caress, acting to cool your burning flesh.

"To Velaris" he explained, the words leaving his mouth with a anxious gulp, "Come with me to Velaris."

Your eyes blow wide at his question. Thoughts becoming clear as the wave of your pleasure retreated. It was love you had seen in Azriel's stare, which you had felt in his passionate thrusts and searing kisses. Love which fueled his shaking nerves at the prospect that your answer would be anything other than yes.

"You deserve so much more than this cursed city" he continued, gentle hand coming to meet your cheek, his grounding touch drawing you from your tempestuous thoughts, “The world deserves to see so much more of you, you’re wasted here. This city, it just kills off everything good, everything pure. You deserve to live, to share your light with likeminded people."

"My light?" you questioned, not quite understanding what it was that Azriel was trying to convey.

Azriel moved the now shaking hand which was settled on your cheek to rest against the center of your chest, taking a few minutes to absorb the steady beat of your heart before continuing to speak.

"I don't know what it is, or why it's there. But I see it, the same light I only ever see on one day of the year, on Starfall. It calls to me, you call to me. . . I don’t know if we are mates, but I just get this feeling, the same one I felt on the day I met you, that this light was made for me. That it’s guiding me towards something. . . towards you.”

You looked down to where his hand was resting but was disappointed to see there was no light shining, yet the intensity of your lovers gaze already told you everything you needed to know.

“Is it there now?” You ask, noting the way Azriel’s hand had stopped trembling at the realisation that you believed him.

“Yes” he smiled softly, and whilst you couldn’t see the light yourself you could have sworn you saw the reflection of a warm glow in his hazel eyes, “it’s always with you, like my shadows.”

As if answering their masters call his shadows had begun to swirl around where his hand was placed, you could only assume they were dancing with the mysterious light that Azriel had likened them to.

“So Velaris huh?” You ask, looking deeply into Azriel’s hopeful eyes, “When do we go?”

And with those four words all of Azriel’s wishes had come true. The male no longer needing to bottle your calming light, sipping at his reserves until he was blessed with your wonderful presence once more. No, this time when he left he would be bringing his star to Velaris with him. To his home.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel oneshot #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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yuuniee · 1 year ago

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I’ve been having like several ship brainrots since forever so... AMA :)

❥ [ship list]

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robin-evry · 8 months ago

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Hiiiiiii !!!! Could I please ask for half-flower (rose) yuu? ♡

Sure thing, ask and you shall receive

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇 🌹🥀

A nymph (Ancient Greek: νύμφη, romanized: nýmphē; Attic Greek: [nýmpʰɛː]; sometimes spelled nymphe) is a minor female nature deity in ancient Greek folklore. Distinct from other Greek goddesses, nymphs are generally regarded as personifications of nature; they are typically tied to a specific place, landform, or tree, and are usually depicted as maidens.

I know this isn't what you ask for, but I decided to modify it a little to have a little background, I chose nymph due to them being a personification of nature, so this yuu will be a nymph that is the personification of the flower rose

( English is not my first language )

Yuu's appearance is deeply tied to the rose motif. They have half of their body adorned with intricate rose patterns, where thorny vines twist elegantly along with their skin, possibly wrapping around their arms and legs.

They are calm and nurturing like a flower in full bloom, but if someone harms those they care about, they reveal her "thorny" side, becoming sharp-tongued and quick to defend themselve and others.

They are the embodiment of the rose—elegant, serene, and welcoming to those who approach them with kindness. They value harmony, often seeking to create peace among those around them, much like how a rose beautifies its surroundings. However, like the thorned stem of the flower, they have a sharp edge. They are fiercely protective of their friends and can be quite intimidating when someone threatens them.

When they walk past the surroundings with plants, flowers or roses start to bloom out of nowhere since they have a connection to nature. Become NRC affocial gardener

Regardless they are actually very good at gardening, when Crowley was visiting ramshackle he saw that ramshackle is like a green house rich with beautiful plants, instead of a run down shack it looks like a rich and bountiful house that are filled with flowers around it making it beautiful. Soon they were hired to be a gardener including a paycheck for them.

And it did not disappoint, the school became a lot more popular, the school has become a much nicer place than RSA, the film research club usually films scenes that takes place in forest or an area field with flowers in exchange of not damaging the flowers, even some famous brands, photographer etc do their photo or filming in NRC, Crowley managed to double the amount the his getting but 80% of the money was given to yuu.

During some time epel ask half flower!yuu to help him with the trees in his village, since their grandparents have apple trees and it been getting hard to maintain. As well to use their natural ability to turn dead trees into flourishing apple trees.

Each winter, they're powers and energy slowly begin to dwindle as the weather turns colder. Much like how roses enter dormancy during the winter season, they also withdraw from their usual lively state. Their body and magic are tied to nature, so they require this period of rest to rejuvenate their powers. During hibernation, the rose vines that adorn their body recede slightly.

This hibernation period usually lasts from late fall until the first signs of spring. During this time, their personality becomes quieter, more introspective. They tend to avoid conflict, conserving their energy by staying indoors and using her magic sparingly. However, even in this dormant state, their thorns remain sharp, ready to defend themselves and others if necessary.

Since they're connected to plants and nature, they have the ability to manipulate any plant similar to poison ivy powers but the drawback they are unable to create plants, only be able to only existing resources.

Example : during the savanaclaw arc, they were unable to manipulate plants due to the lack of plants or nature in the area. So they carried a sack of seeds In case of this situation.

They're floral pheromones can calm, soothe, or subtly influence others. At NRC, they uses this ability carefully, often to de-escalate conflicts before they spiral out of control. In dangerous situations, they can amplify the effect to create an overwhelming sense of peace, putting their opponents into a dazed or passive state.

In ramshackle, there's a small garden filled with rare flowers, and some students found half flower!yuu tending the flowers during their free time and if any students pluck their flowers without permission or destroy it, they will dangle by the leg upside down for half an hour.

Their dorm room is a sanctuary of its own, filled with potted plants, vines, and roses that respond to their presence. It has a calming atmosphere, with the faint scent of roses always lingering in the air. Friends often visit their room for peace and quiet when the chaos of NRC becomes overwhelming, knowing that their plants will offer comfort and protection. They've become known for her green thumb, and their room is a hidden oasis amid the more chaotic, dark environment of the school.

They are also knowledgeable about biology on plants. During their free time if a student manages to come in contact with their dangerous plants, they will create an antitude for the situation. They are also excellent pharmacists.

Classes like potionolgy are extremely easy for them, one of Mr crewel star pupal. Some students seek for them for their guidance on the subject

Them and Vil share an appreciation for beauty and elegance. Vil respects their natural grace and sees her as a symbol of refined strength. They bond over skincare, fashion, and the art of presentation, though Vil sometimes wishes they would embrace a more high-maintenance beauty routine. meanwhile, they enjoy Vil's dedication to perfection but reminds him that even roses have imperfections that make them unique.

Also they usually have a sun bath, they will lay in the ramshackle ground wearing a sun glass and enjoy the sunlight.

They are also to be described as very confident and brash by people, described by people as their thorn side even tho that people said this side is ugly, half-flower!yuu would ignore them due to them loving both sides of themselves and always be true to themselves.

Even tho people see them as a kind and brash person, they are also very judgemental immediately judging people's fashion sense, during their first meeting with ace, in their head they are judging his uniform and hairstyle. They also had a very sharp tongue immediately roasting the first years during their first meeting.

#not canon #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst scenario #disney twst #twisted wonderland yuu au #twst mc #twst wonderland #twst x reader #twst yuu au #half-flower!yuu #nymph!yuu kinda

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hawkinsbnbg · 9 months ago

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standin' at that altar, or we will run away

prompt: sneaking around | @steddiesmuttyseptember

tags: exes to lovers, bathroom sex, daddy kink, barebacking, creampie, top Eddie, possessive Eddie, bottom Steve, babygirl Steve, steddie in love.

word count: 1k7 | rated: E | ao3

Steve sipped his wine and sighed inwardly. It was too early to ingest the alcohol, but knowing his parents would criticize him no matter what, he didn't have any reason to behave himself.

If they thought being late was a power move, then he should be allowed to drink all of their expensive wine.

At least, he snorted humorlessly, waiting for them was better than another blind date.

Steve was a little tipsy when he finally saw him.

Black suit jacket, white open-collared, ironed trousers, and shiny shoes. His long curls were pulled up in a ponytail, tattoos visible on the back of his hands and fingers—adorned with silver chunky rings.

Since the restaurant wasn't exactly packed, it was criminally easy to pick out a familiar face among the sea of dining patrons.

Steve knew he was staring, but Eddie Munson wouldn't be a thorn in his side if the man stopped looking good even for a second.

Especially when he dressed up, a once-in-a-blue-moon thing that would make Steve weak in the knees.

He watched Eddie empty a glass of water and set it down, then stand up from the table and walk away.

Steve loosened his tie and sat there for a moment longer, glancing at his watch to check the time before also getting up and leaving his table.

———

Steve couldn't believe he would follow his ex of all people into a restaurant's bathroom. Which, sadly, wasn't news at all.

Because if there was nothing to stop him, he would follow Eddie to the end of Earth and even beyond death.

Perhaps, Steve supposed, he was a bigger freak than he gave himself credit for.

"Ed– Oof!"

He was pulled into a sturdy chest as soon as he opened the door.

The sight of Eddie—tall and broad shouldered—with his shirt's sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing more of the intricate inks, would forever be ingrained in Steve's brain.

A ringed hand came up to hold his chin aloft, dark brown eyes regarded him with an unreadable look before plump lips descended on his own, seizing him in a fervent kiss.

As his pants were stripped and long slicked fingers pressed into him, Steve couldn't remember why he didn't want to trail after Eddie in the first place.

In the mirror, he looked debauched with his disheveled appearance; tousled hair, unbuttoned shirt, red swollen lips, and hickey-covered neck.

All the while, Eddie's gaze felt like a physical touch on him—scorching, heavy, and ravenous.

Steve had missed it; the feeling of being desired and adored in the same touch and in all one breath. It was intoxicating, got him light-headed more than any alcohol or drug.

"More," he pushed his hips back, one hand hooking behind Eddie's neck while the other splaying on the bathroom counter. He clenched around the fingers working inside him, hoping they would be replaced by something bigger soon.

"Such a greedy little thing, hm?" Eddie mouthed the column of his throat and stroked his prostate relentlessly, drawing punch-drunk moans from him. "My fingers not enough for you, princess?"

Steve shook his head frantically. He wanted Eddie; whole and scalding and everything. He wanted and wanted until his body was torn into pieces, reaching its limit and incapable of containing his greed, his hunger—

His love for this beautiful man.

And oh, he had said it again, didn't he?

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Unrestrained. Unashamed. Unrepentant.

Eddie made a wounded noise like it was punched right out of him.

And while Steve loved like the sun, burning and consuming; Eddie loved like the moon, tender and forgiving.

Embracing him in warmth and affection even when he was the one at fault. Even when he had been a coward and run away.

"Missed you, Daddy," he trembled in the safety of those strong arms, barely able to conceal the desperation in his voice. "Need it so bad– Please–"

"Anything, baby," Eddie clutched his waist in a bruising grip, sounding hoarse and shaky, as he pushed slowly into him, stretching him open, tearing him asunder. "Anything."

Steve dropped his mouth in a silent moan, squeezing his eyes shut when Eddie set up a brutal pace right off the bat.

Neither of them had much time to savor this sacred moment. A reunion after two months apart. A drop of morning dew sliding off a green leave.

And he let Eddie use his body, slamming into him with an urgent need—as if his inside was the hearth of life, as if Eddie needed to be balls deep in him like air—chasing the blazing flame that they were both after.

"Am I that girl you dream of, baby?" Eddie grabbed his jaw to make him meet those crazed eyes in the mirror, hot lips pressing against his artery—thumping like a hummingbird. "Does she pamper you the way I did? Does she make love to you and fuck you like this? Does she tie you up? Eat you out until you cry and beg for her cock?"

"There's no one–" Steve was interrupted by the insistent knocks on the door. And suddenly remembered that they were very underdressed in a public setting.

Not that it had ever stopped Eddie from bending him over the nearest surface and going to town.

"Fuck off!" Eddie shouted at the door with a scowl.

"Yeah, fuck off," Steve giggled.

His parents would definitely have a coronary if they found out their straight son was given the pounding of his life in a bathroom. And right in a restaurant under the Harrington's name, nonetheless.

"Wanna share with the class what's so funny, darlin'?" Eddie rolled his hips and Steve's laughter suddenly cut into a strangled moan.

The constant pressure on his prostate wasn't a joke, making Steve drool and lose his mind.

"Love you, Daddy," he babbled incoherently, not caring that it didn't make any sense. "Love you so much. Love your cock so much."

"Jesus Christ, baby."

His eyes rolled back as Eddie grounded into his prostate and bumped his weeping dick quickly, setting his nerves alight and sending him over the edge.

Steve convulsed as he got overwhelmed by the toes-curling pleasure, muscles flexing and milking the thick length inside him like his life depended on it.

"That's– Fuck–" Eddie groaned and pressed his forehead on Steve's shoulder, blunt nails digging into the trim waist and leaving their crescent indents behind.

Steve wished they would take forever to fade.

After a few stuttered thrusts, Eddie buried deep and spilled inside him, filling him up to the brim.

"Don't pull out," Steve whimpered, clamping down even as he knew full well it was impossible.

"Me and you both, sweetheart," Eddie pressed a wistful kiss on his temple, slipping out easily from his sloppy hole.

After using the toilet paper to wipe down his backside and dick, Eddie pulled his briefs and pants back on, deft hands snaking around his torso to do his belt and zipper for him.

When Eddie turned him around to button his shirt and tucked it in as well, Steve's softened dick gave a valiant twitch at the feeling of Eddie's cum dripping from his hole.

His underwear would be a mess by the time he was home, but if he played his cards right, Eddie would clean it for him.

"Hey, Ed–"

"Steve, I–"

They paused and shared a shy smile.

"You first," Steve said, cheeks tinged pink as Eddie's hands came to rest on his waist, boxing him in against the counter.

"I know none of this is your fault. So whatever you need to do to fulfill your duty, I forgive you," Eddie gave him a tender smile, stealing his breath away. "And I'll wait for you for however long it takes. Because I know it hurts you as much as I, if not worse, to listen to your parents. I don't agree with it, but I understand that you have your reason to do so."

Steve felt guilt run through him, his eyes burned and his lips quivered as he rested his forehead on Eddie's shoulder, wanting to hide his tears because what right did he have to cry now?

"Let me be your silent support, baby," Eddie's fingers combed through his hair gently. "Let me take care of you even from the shadows."

"No!" He lifted his head to meet those kind brown eyes. "You don't deserve that– I can't– I won't keep you a secret, Eddie."

"I love you, and there's no other way for us–"

"There is," Steve raised his hand to wipe the tears in his eyes, smiling wobbly at his boyfriend. "I'm here today to break the big news to my parents. If you're willing to take me in when they disown me and deny my inheritance right–"

Someone banged on the door loudly from the outside, but Steve didn't care about it. Wealth, fame, reputation; they all paled in comparison to the man he loved.

"–then I'll go with you."

Eddie gave him a searching look, as if what he just said was too good to be true. Which Steve couldn't fault him after everything he had put him through. But it hurt still, to be doubted by his love because he had proved himself untrustworthy with his foolishness.

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, caressing Steve's cheekbone with the back of his hand. "I'm not your parents. I'm just a small-time musician. A life with me won't be the same as anything you grew up with. I don't want you to regret your decision, baby."

"And you called me a worrier," Steve teased gently, before grabbing Eddie's wrist to kiss his ring finger—tattooed with a princess crown. "A life with you sounds good enough to me."

"Yeah?" Eddie smiled at him, fond and precious.

"Yeah," Steve smiled back, feeling his body tingle with light. So bright that he could rival the sun.

At the sound of the door being unlocked, Steve winked at Eddie.

"Let's bring me out of the closet. Show my parents that I'm as straight as a rubber band."

"Stephen Joseph Harrington," Eddie grinned widely and gazed at him in awe. "I'm gonna marry you one day."

Steve tipped forward and kissed Eddie soundly when those loving arms caught him.

Yeah, one day soon.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie smutty september #sionewritesatmidnight

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hrefna-the-raven · 10 months ago

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Mask

Horror masterlist - Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

RZ Michael Myers x female nurse reader

Part 1

Words: 1248

Warnings: very mild and short descriptions about violence

Summary: you seem to be the only person who's able to communicate with Michael and so you continued to take care of him on Dr Loomis' orders

Reader: short female reader in mind, but no specific descriptions are used

The following days and weeks passed with the same routine. You were overseeing Michael in the observation room until Doctor Loomis would arrive for the therapy session. Occasionally, the doctor would even request that you stay, hoping that Michael would open up in your presence. He did, although the doctor was too engrossed in his own theories to notice it each time, but you saw all of it. The little amused huffs behind the mask whenever you challenged him with a question, the silent chuckles and crinkling eyes whenever you told one of your jokes and the way his breath hitched as soon as your hand found his in an innocent touch. All the while a frustrated Loomis sat across the table, huffing as he scribbled down in his notebook, so much to write and yet no wisdom to share, only speculations.

The conflict within Michael kept raging on, torn between his urge to kill and the growing fondness for you. You were a thorn in his flesh of bloody sin and yet, you soothed his mind and your touch left a sense of longing burning beneath his skin. Your fingertips brushing the side of his hand as he tried to help you make your own mask felt electrifying, a spark straight to his rotten heart, nourishing its dying flesh. His heart raced, threatening to burst out of his chest while his breaths grew heavier. As his eyes finally locked on yours, the entire world around him froze, time trickling away while you observed him, your perfect lips slightly parted, realising what was happening to him, what you did to him.

"Well mine doesn't look as good as yours but I still have time to learn from the master", you giggled, holding your mask up for him to see, "shall we try them on?"

A faint smile spread across his lips, well hidden beneath the painted paper on his face. The way you giggled so carelessly in his presence, the graceful movements of your hands, making the piece of paper-mâché seemingly dance in the air, Michael could feel a knot forming in his stomach. He had never felt like this, not even prior to that one fateful Halloween. Although his heart suddenly jumped as he observed your cheerful expression falter, replaced by a hint of fear. Would this be the inevitable moment of truth where you'd finally realise how ugly he truly was on the outside and deep within?

"I...I should turn around", you murmured, "sorry I forgot for a moment that you don't like showing your face."

His fingers moved up to grasp your chin, preventing you from turning your head away. Observing your initial confusion, he handed you his new mask and slowly removed his old one. A hushed gasp slipped passed your lips, eyes wide in shock as you gazed upon Michael's real face for the very first time. He let out a rasped groan as your fingertips graced his forehead, brushing the long blonde strands of hair away to tuck them behind his ears. His handsome face bore a rough charm, tiny dark stubble adorned his broad jaw and chin, his lips trembling ever so slightly while his icy blue eyes locked onto yours. He noticed your flustered expression and the heat rising to your cheeks as you leaned closer and put the mask over his head, but you didn't pull it down immediately.

"That...uhm...is a very beautiful face", you whispered, "thanks for allowing me to see it...for the trust."

You pulled the mask down and right before it covered his face entirely, you saw his lips curl into a wide smile. As you were about to put your own mask on, the metal door swung open and Loomis entered with Cruz following closely behind.

"Thank you nurse", the doctor called out while Cruz simply waved at you with a smile, "you can take your leave now. Mister Cruz will take care of Michael in the coming days and I will commence the daily therapy session now. Happy Halloween!"

You sensed Michael tense beside you, the breaths under the mask becoming more erratic with each second of silence passing. Your hand found his, squeezing it gently while his gaze met yours at the subtle reassuring touch.

"I'll take a week off from this evening on, but", you spoke calmly, sensing his rising panic, "I know tomorrow is Halloween, soooo....after discussing it with Dr Loomis, I got the approval to drop by and visit you, in my Halloween costume. And of course I gonna bring you some candy."

You offered a gentle smile while your hand remained on his but it wasn't nearly enough to quell the anger burning within Michael in this moment. He had trusted you, opened himself up to you, and now, like everyone else in his life, you were about to leave him again. Leaving him all to himself and his darkness again? The thought of being abandoned consumed him, causing his teeth to grind and his once warm eyes turned cold and lifeless. His hand instinctively moved towards your neck while his mind exploded with images of how he could simply smash you head first into the table. The cracking sound of your skull, the crimson trickling from every wound, pooling around your face in perfect contrast against the dark grey metal underneath, all mingling with the sweet melody of your panicked last breaths, realising your life was drained away by his hand, the very one you're still holding onto right now.

"If you write me down your favourite candy, I gonna try and get that one for us. Promised!"

Your soft voice snapped him out of his murderous trail of thoughts back into reality and he felt his hold on your neck loosen, gently caressing your skin before retreating. Steel blue eyes blinked at you a few times, the love and gentleness slowly returning to them and with a loud sigh Michael leaned forward, hastily scribbling a few words on a piece of paper before sliding it towards you. The chuckle escaping your lips went straight through his chest, it being the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, forgetting all the pain and doubt it had caused within him just a few seconds ago.

"Oh those two are my favourites too", your finger tapped on the paper, "you have an excellent taste in sweets, Mr Myers."

He rolled his eyes in response but you could almost see the smirk peeking out from behind the paper-mâché.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Make sure to wear your scariest mask", you winked at him before heading towards the doors.

Before the door fell shut, Loomis slipped through it, calling out for you. It amazed you how this man knew so much and so little at the same time about his most famous patient. He listened, analysed and yet, he never seemed to truly see or hear Michael. Maintaining a friendly and professional expression on your face, you continued to listen as he provided additional instructions for your visit the following day.

As you laid in bed that night, a stash of candy and sweets stowed away and ready, excitement bubbled in your stomach while your restless mind got lost in the anticipation of your first private meeting with Michael, outside your nurse outfit and the obligation to watch over him. It would simply be you and him having as much Halloween fun as a place like Smith's Grove would allow.

Part 3 - Home (18+)

#rob zombie #halloween #rz halloween #michael myers #michael myers x reader #slasher #slasher x reader #michael myers x you #slasher x you #dr loomis #cruz #sanitarium #connection #ismael cruz #rz michael myers #rz myers x reader #mask #tyler mane #tyler mane michael myers

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valentine-cafe · 9 months ago

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. ˚◞♡ 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏-𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ jingyi verseless / fem sacrificial reader ꒱ your village has a tradition of picking the flower maiden, a woman to be sacrificed every so often to a demon of the abhorration. this year, it seems that you are the lucky flower

𖹭. content warnings◞ yandere behaviour . kidnapping . 0.8k

𖹭. receipts◞ had this idea and just had to put it onto paper because hello

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪

imagine being born to a village that sacrifices their most beautiful, most dutiful, most splendid maiden - as a bride to a demon, they always say.

the decade’s flower maiden. quite the title. both feared and revered.

but when you stood there with a crown of flowers feeling like a crown of thorns, the former shone true. your heart racing as though it wished to tear through your chest and flee from your body. run far - far away. what would it matter? your chest cavity would surely be ripped into two once the demon got his hands on you.

as you stood amongst the diagram drawn with nectar and rose petals. you inhale. bidding one final glance to the deranged villagers who only looked at you with sympathetic smiles and sorrowful eyes.

they could stop this. any time they wished.

who is to say the demon would come knocking on the door?

was there even a demon?

the question would crumble away once you stood before him. tall, dark. an accumulation of ebony mist framed over where you assumed his eyes should be. long claws you can only remind yourself are for tearing. razor teeth for the same.

“another?”

he sounds unimpressed. you are certain the flowers wilt when met with his dry tone. nevertheless you stand straight. fingers twitching as you shakily fiddle.

“are. . . are you -”

“the demon your people obsess over? take a guess sweetheart.”

a chill rises goosebumps in your skin when the demon circles around your far smaller form. while the fog obscures his face, you can almost feel the look of judgement. you could not help the thorn of irritation poking through your chest.

you were the prettiest lily of the valley, what critique might he hold?

the thought is drowned out by the screams of your logic. why were you upset over such a thing? it is not as though you will see the light of day with him to bask in his judgement for much longer. it matters not. you are prey.

and yet his fingers extending those dark claws, adorned in several silver rings — they caress your face as though you are not.

like a flower indeed. one to be put on display in a pretty, golden vase. treated with the utmost care and shown off to all entering one’s abode.

“well I typically release all the pitiful sacrifices your people send my way,” your heart sinks. he stills it by leaning down. a pale face only a breath away. “I must say that this decade’s sacrifice is . . . certainly stunning.”

those claws find your waist instead of your chest. an effortless tug flushing your body to his.

how might a demon feel so soft? like silk. . . wrapped around a bouquet of roses. it is what you felt like when the crux of his finger raises your chin.

“while I hold no interest in your incessant little village. . . I am quite the greedy being. when something catches my eye - well,”

a sharp thumb nail pokes at your lower lip. the first threat of a tear. so close - yet the distraction of mist dissipating to reveal pools of maroon. a face of a demon, that should surely belong to an angel. . . all fear leaks through your pores.

“I take it.”

the middle of your spine arches. the cotton of the white dress your village had clothed you in hangs, as the being leans over you. his height quickly making itself known once more. his hand finds place between your shoulder blades.

“I am sure you would not mind. after all. it is what your people sent you here for, is it not?”

“b-but -”

a chuckle. deep and dark. it strums a chord in your heart. a burst of butterflies flood your tummy. you practically see them venture out into the marble halls of what you can only assume to be his abode.

“your attempts to denial will certainly be cute. but I see it in your eyes,”

the hand glides down to the small of your back. claws tracing, yet never scratching. never tearing.

“you search for an escape. do you not, wild flower?” his thumb strokes. his body flushes to yours. perhaps it is the eyes of a demon. the essence of staring into them. drowning within his stare - that makes your mind echo his words in fervent whispers. desperate agreements.

“I -”

“now, don’t fight it,”

the demon croons. a curl finding his red lips. they set beside your ear and fan a breath lingered with a thousand promises, you can only imagine.

“I shall treat you like the most delicate of roses. the most revered of blossoms. my sweet, sweet wild flower.”

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malleleothreesome · 1 year ago

Text

Dancing with Malleus

✨ summary: Malleus invites you to the Briar Valley ball ༶༶༶ ✨ warnings: gender neutral reader, immortal Malleus, romance, SFW, I ain't gonna spoil this one for ya ༶༶༶ ✨ word count: 2.9k words ༶༶༶ ✨ song: Once Upon A Dream - Lana Del Rey "You'll love me at once... the way you did once upon a dream"

The castle's ballroom is exquisite and grand, with high arched windows that open out into a massive and impressive courtyard. Inundated with golden light, the whole room is sparking in ethereal shimmer and the aroma of crisp floral accents fill the room. From the high vaulted ceilings, chandeliers the size of trees glitter with a plethora of colorful gems, catching the light of magical, flickering flames like stardust. Couples twirl and weave around each other in fluid steps, like a choreographed waltz of swaying and swirling movements. An orchestra of beautiful instruments blend together in a soaring melody as the dancing continues in harmonious orchestration. A faint mist seems to cover the floor, glittering opalescent in the fading daylight, which gives the scene the surreal quality of a dream or fairytale. The ball is attended only by the most exotic mystical creatures and beings of magic, clad in jewels and other luxury wares. Fae of varying shapes, colors, and sizes, waltz together and converse in tight circles, but you couldn't possibly hope to learn their language or names, nor are you important enough to be greeted. You don't belong here amongst the unparalleled beauty of the resplendent folk who grace these halls—celestially carved beings whose mere existence was meant to mesmerize you and your fellow humans, yet Malleus had insisted that you become his plus-one. Despite your fears that you might embarrass yourself due to your utter inexperience at anything remotely resembling courtly dancing, you're inexplicably enamored by his stubborn determination to allow no argument or negotiation on the matter. So now, you find yourself clad in flowing silk that glows like it was created by stars themselves and bejeweled with all manners of beautiful and precious accouterments. With such extravagant adornments and attire, no one would be able to tell you are not of royal blood. Before you become completely subsumed in the buzzing magnificence of the ball, the finest details of your elegant surroundings become blurry.

Suddenly, there is only him.

Your eyes cannot help but alight upon his noble beauty, and for a moment, the entire crowd parts. The Prince of the Valley of Thorns floats through the room, the air around him parting. As his silky hair streams behind him like water, his beauty causes the room to gasp audibly, yet he hardly notices. Only focused on his true intentions, Malleus seems to drift effortlessly through his own subjects, his sharp features devoid of their normal grim severity, eyes sparkling with tender warmth as he fixates solely on you. Every step he takes exudes power and confidence, yet remains graceful and smooth, as he saunters his way to where you stand and outstretches his gloved hand. In an instant, a murmur arises among the guests—every single one of them captivated by the effortless charm and debonair allure the future King possesses. Seeing your bashfulness, he delicately pulls your smaller hand into his before brushing your knuckles with a sweet kiss, a broad, fangy smile illuminating his entire visage.

"Do not be nervous," he soothes you. His slender fingertips gingerly grip yours, raising your entangled palms to rest shoulder-height, and placing his other hand on your lower back, right at the junction of your waist—so carefully, it makes your heart beat a little faster. Despite his inhuman strength, Malleus holds onto you gently, not wanting to bruise you from his crushing grasp. And then, the room around you suddenly fades away—the hundreds of pairs of eyes on you fade to black, the delicate melodies fade to white, the sheer magnitude of magic and splendor falls away and you see only the verdant of his irises, glittering emeralds as bright and eternal as the crystals sparkling around you. The corners of his eyes crinkle just a bit, betraying an emotion he's rarely so candid with outside the sanctum of your relationship. His next words, a dreamy whisper of reassurance, cause butterflies to flutter through your stomach and the hot flush of your cheeks to flood over you.

"Just let me lead and I will bring you to paradise."

Those are his only words as the slow waltz of the orchestra starts, beginning the dance that will set you two into a careful and synchronous flow with each other. Your feet move effortlessly with him, never straying even as he picks up the pace, the momentum between the two of you increasing. You feel him cradle the curve of your body close to him, holding you in the nook of his arm as he deftly twirls you through the night's revels. Malleus expertly keeps pace with the orchestra, all while also maintaining the beat of his heart, which matches the rhythm of his footsteps. As he glides with a masterful ease around the room, every movement controlled and precise, the image you two paint in motion together is nothing short of flawless. There isn't a hitch or misstep in your movement, the two of you completely in sync with the beat, every turn and twist of the music matching each step of your waltz, as he leads you in complete command. His eyes never leave yours, only looking away to catch the flash of one of his deft maneuvers of your body. Time slows and you find yourself completely lost in the wonder as you gaze lovingly into the brilliant, viridescent pools of his irises—his gaze penetrates and drowns you in a wash of endearment, drinking in your visage with unrestrained emotion. It's intoxicating and dizzying, yet you're powerless to break away. As far as you're concerned, the other couples have completely disappeared, lost to the blur of the distance, and it is as though you're dancing to music that exists in a realm outside of the material world. Everything else pales in comparison to this ethereal fairytale—Malleus looks handsome beyond reason in his opulent uniform. The cut of the dark fabric seems to enhance the elegant definition of his strong shoulders and the perfect symmetry of his regal face, yet the lush tailoring highlights his muscular physique and the toned strength that hides under the gorgeous facade. His very essence, the ambiance he exudes, the captivating aura—it all acts as an enchantment of pure spellbound desire, beckoning for you to cast yourself into its endless depth, surrendering yourself entirely to him.

Every step, every sway, every twirl of your dance together is more surreal than the last. This fairy tale is unfolding right before your eyes and all you can do is feel your soul resonate with him. It's in the way your arms circle his body; it's in the way your breathing begins to match pace with his; it's in the way he sets your head spinning and fills your heart with an aching need to be closer. In a secluded corner of the dance floor, away from all the curious eyes, the waltz continues—a beautiful duet of your hearts connecting deeper with every step and spin, as if the magic is attempting to wrench your souls together, desperate to mingle them until they're indistinguishable. He cradles you in his embrace, holding your body against his. From the elegant swoop of his scale-covered forehead, to the sharp, sexy slope of his jawline, his handsome profile is aglow with radiant adoration as he stares down at you with half-lidded, smitten eyes, his cheekbones shadowed perfectly under the romantic light of the ballroom, giving him an ineffable mystique. You stare back at him, searching deep into the blackness of his slitted pupils until your heart aches as your mind rushes with so many unspeakable emotions that threaten to make tears well in the corner of your eyes. In that moment, your love for him burns brighter than the sun and is more potent than anything you have ever known. At last, he closes his eyes in contentment and sweeps you away, a dreamlike smile upon his lips as he spins you across the smooth ballroom floors, grasping onto you as though you are his only lifeline in the universe. Malleus moves as though in a dream, never faltering as he leads your soul into a euphoria you never thought possible, a state where words hold little meaning but the act of dancing could express everything. As he moves the two of you elegantly across the expansive floor, the ephemerality of your mortal existence burns starkly clear in your mind, while his ancient heart thrums within his chest—countless years of melancholy and loneliness he endured seem to give weight to every ponderous beat of his heart, resonating through his chest, enveloping you and shrouding you in the desperate urgency of his adoration for you. Even without uttering any confessions, his heart speaks them to you fluently—you and him are tied so intimately together, an unbreakable knot that holds the threads of your destinies and fate together in a weave too precious and fine to be cut or broken. His fingertips ghost along your neck, the gentle sensation setting your soul on fire, sending electric currents down to the very tips of your fingers and toes, as a powerful shudder rips through your body.

"Wherever I am, you belong by my side," Malleus tells you. His tone is soft, but filled with enough reverence to make your breath catch. He peers at you with uncharacteristic vulnerability, the mere existence of it is practically intoxicating, and he watches your reactions to him with wide and captivating eyes that give off the intensity of a solar eclipse.

"It was fated by the heavens. Our paths were always intertwined," his voice is just a tad unsteady, yet it resonates with his entire being.

For a moment, all the whispers that echo from the watching crowd silence—the buzz, the snippets of gossip about your relationship with the notorious prince—is as quiet and as inconsequential as a background tune to your dance. All those things were meaningless—their cruel whispers and jealous words, their apprehension and disapproval meant absolutely nothing. That momentary stillness grants you both a moment of solace; the very few seconds your lives needed for him to offer himself to you. A confession so pure it lifts the hair on the back of your neck: "I fell in love the moment I laid eyes on you. No one could possibly make my heart beat so wildly or ignite such fierce emotions as you do."

His words are just like the tempo of the violins that fill the chamber. Infinite. Mesmerizing. Their echoing sound lengthens into infinity, in their beautiful patterns, the bow caresses the strings and produces such an achingly sublime melody. They pierce through all the tension in the air and carry a stirring urgency along with them as they flow seamlessly with your bodies in sync. Every note perfectly transitions into the next, and the song swells to a climatic, fervid harmony that cannot be resisted. You want him with all the burning hunger and depth of a cosmic soul—for every molecule that composes you calls out to him and wants to interweave his being with your own, so that neither one can ever exist without the other. His form is graceful as you two blend into each other and the song in a divine synergy. Time stretches as the rapturous intensity of his longing is displayed on his face. As you look into his eyes, the entire expanse of his vast, magnificent soul is bared to you. No mortal has ever had the privilege to see him so honestly and fully exposed, yet Malleus gives you his everything—he's always been his whole self in your embrace. He holds you close, cradling your frame to him protectively, and the faint tremble of his grip reveals the depths of his emotional fragility as the passion of his love overwhelms him and renders him helplessly bare before you, like a servant devoted to the altar of an awe-inspiring, glorious God.

Suddenly, all those intense sensations coalesce into the single most beautiful sentiment of all, as the sum of these wonderful emotions create a glorious aria that rouses all the seraphic adoration and longing, and an emotional overdrive within him. With the sum of his desires and emotions pouring out of him in waves, Malleus opens his lips to pour forth his most secret and profound wish and what comes out next, the words barely a hushed murmur above the swelling musical climax, is an admission of raw love. "I wish to spend my eternal lifetime with you by my side. I long to spend it loving only you and I want us to grow together through the centuries as partners." His words, sincere, sentimental, and laced with the faintest traces of tears, are raw in their unapologetic declaration, and they contain within them a depth of devotion you didn't think possible for a soul to ever harbor.

His lip quivers, his eyes begin to shine, and he squeezes them shut just as the first tears begin to flow, spilling over the waterline of his closed eyelids and dripping down his high cheekbones. Tapered fingers firmly intertwine yours and he desperately gazes at Lilia, whose red eyes sparkle in a proud mist as he looks on, giving Malleus an encouraging nod. Finally, the dam is broken—the smile that cracks at the corners of Malleus' mouth blooms, causing his already dazzling complexion to gleam and become impossibly more breathtaking as a sweet, ecstatic sob bubbles out of his lungs. Tears of joy roll down his cheeks as a wide grin takes up half his face, the verdant color of his irises shimmering brilliantly through a crystalline veil of sparkling tears. Thanks to the confidence and encouragement Lilia—his Father—has instilled in him, he finally feels ready to face his destiny, and take you alongside him as an equal. He clears his throat.

"I understand you are a human of little power, a short-lived creature whose days will fleet and wane like that of a candle before a blizzard," his voice is somewhat hesitant, faltering a tad as his anxieties manifest, his vocal chords shivering as he stumbles over his own emotion. His free hand finds its way to clutch the front of his attire, as though the mere mention of you near death makes his heart seize in his chest. His lips form a pout, brow creasing deeply as his breath shakes while you clutch his cheek, a thumb smoothing over his cheekbone, collecting his tears. Then, Malleus steels his features as he delivers his ultimatum. When his beautiful, soulful gaze finds you, there's an immovable determination and steadfastness that betray the fact that he's already made the choice, and your presence at his side is inevitable. "Therefore, in order to make our union possible and feasible, I spent countless hours researching every ancient text and scroll to seek a loophole, to bend the fates and twist their strings around my fingers." His lips curl to the side and his eyebrows raise ever so subtly, an adorable hint of pride shining in the smile he wears. "At last, my labor produced a solution. It is possible through an ancient rite to bind my soul to a chosen mortal partner."

Your heart speeds as a burst of joy courses through your veins like fire. The crescendo of the orchestra and his musical words are building to a harmonious convergence, a swelling refrain of the melodies both your lives have played, culminating in a resplendent final verse, a foreordained tune of two halves at last being joined. It's almost too much for you to take; the very walls of this beautiful, mystical room threaten to melt away and fade from your awareness, and all you can comprehend is his stunning, baritone voice. "If you accept my blessing, your lifespan will be linked to mine for as long as I walk the realm of the living.” Malleus tells you, a tad smug at the work he has done on your behalf. “All I ask in return for giving you eternal beauty, granting you my protection, and offering you my whole life is that we come to be as one. Two souls permanently linked and intertwined for the eternity of our existence together. You will forever share my immortality and accompany me as we walk among the stars until they eventually go out. And even in the wake of that devastating eventuality, I promise to care for you, tend to you, and love you for however many eras remain. Please be my betrothed, my beloved child of man, for I cannot bear to let you go and there is no force that can tear me away from you."

He squeezes your hand before dropping to one knee. In the center of the expansive room, surrounded by hundreds of guests, his emerald orbs peer up at you through heavy lashes as his lips begin to part, finally ready to ask the one question that may finally put an end to the solitude he has endured since he first came into existence. He pulls a ring box from the interior of his tailcoat, his shaky hands slowly flipping open the box to reveal a platinum band in the shape of a dragon encasing a deep viridian gem, forged from the magical energies of his Draconia ancestors. The ring was last worn by his Mother before her untimely demise, and his Grandmother was insistent that Malleus should one day gift his betrothed this one piece of family history. As the ballroom goes completely silent and the eyes of his subjects rest on the two of you with rapt, nervous attention, Malleus draws in a wavering inhale to steady his quivering voice as he fights the fear of rejection, before allowing the soft and tender question to slip past the careful line of his lips, "Will you marry me?"

Do y'all want part 2? Am I cruel for leaving it off there? In "x Reader" fics, I like to limit putting words in the reader's mouth or feelings in reader's head so that I can let you decide for yourselves how you wish to experience my stories. I am happy to pick back up where I left off if there is demand for it. Otherwise, I hope you continue weaving this tale in your own daydreams and fantasies. Thank you for reading and for your support of my writing! 💚 Erica Malleleothreesome P.S. I'm SORRY my paragraphs are so long I truly DO NOT UNDERSTAND when to break paragraphs, I hope it doesn't ruin your experience!

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