#y'all gonna make me cry
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jugacolours · 2 years ago
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redfoxwritesstuff · 4 months ago
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Ty for writing misd 💙💙
Thank you so much for reading love!! <3 It's hard sometimes to remember there are people out there in the void!
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mebiselfandi · 2 years ago
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i just read your fic after i got out of class and i am both hurting and comforted! your writing is incredible and you get into ney’s head so well, i love your style! they are so sweet and so are you 🫶🫶🫶 lots of love
Oh my goodness please you guys are all being so nice to me I'm gonna cry😭
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read my fic and send me this ask. I'm glad you liked it. You're even sweeter for sending me such a sweet message🥹🥹🥰
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vincentmatthews · 2 years ago
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Just wanted to say real quick that it's always a treat seeing your writing and hc's <3 your writing and OCs are hella good 🤌
OMG, HI LOVE💕
Thank you so much🥺💕
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But your OC: Valen is so pretty. 🥺💕 I wanna eat him {dis}respectfully. Your renders are *licks fingers* delicious💕 The aesthetics and neons of your posts are so fucking beautiful and captivating💕
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howlingdemon13 · 2 years ago
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Gonna say this til the day I croak, but I'm so thankful for the love on my art! Reading the tags and comments fills me with so much joy. Been a really ick few years in terms of my anxiety and my relationship with my art, so I'm glad my weird little contributions resonate n stuff ahhhh ;w;
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katsu28 · 2 years ago
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you seem like a very sweet person to hang around with!!
:)
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crystalflygeo · 2 years ago
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The dragon and the sacrificial lamb ft. eroded!Zhongli + gn!reader
cw/tags: rape/non-con, angst, bad ending, yandere-ish zhongli? feral/eroded zhongli, biting, crying, restraints (courtesy of improper use of geo as usual ehe)
notes: Alright this is a special one get ready. There's two "version" of this story bc I couldn't decide which path I liked more. This one is the dark/bad ending. Both stories are exactly the same at the start, changing a few word here and there but then reach a point where they divert completely in reactions/emotions and the underlying feeling of the stories are very different. They can be read independently ofc so by all means feel free to choose which tags you vibe with more or enjoy picking up the differences between both!
Bittersweet ending version here!!
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Once upon a time…
A long, long time ago…
The people of Liyue revered their beloved Archon Rex Lapis. Just and kind, he led his nation for millennia, upholding order and contracts, defeating countless enemies, and defending their safe Harbor.
It is said the Lord of Geo took a human as partner, and fell in love deep and pure.
And his partner loved him just as much.
A love that would tragically become a twisted obsession.
It is said the God understood that even he himself was not immune to erosion, and it would one day be his downfall. So, he made sure his people were ready to live on without him. That his adepti were strong enough to subdue him if the day ever came.
As for his lover… well…
-----
Your bare feet crunch along the soft grass as you run and run, panting, gasping for air, almost tripping and letting out a yelp but quickly regaining balance and scurrying faster, past the falling golden ginkgo leaves, past the soft sound of rushing waters.
The golden sunset is gorgeous, dying the sky pink and orange with pastel hues but you simply ignore it, having grown tired of it, sick even. It is fake, an illusion. Just as everything else in this adeptal abode.
Everything except, of course, you and the beast you are currently fleeing from.
It is useless to try to escape, this you know, and your heart clenches painfully as tears prickle at your eyes. You’ve done this before, played this game many many times. But at least for one moment… just one moment…
A roar turns your blood to ice and against all common sense you look over your shoulder to see a massive long dragon twisting in the air and diving straight towards you.
Your legs tremble and fail you as you fall down, the grass is soft but your body aches, tired, burning. You scramble around frantically to stare at the beast again and your eyes widen in panic as it lands right on top of you, majestic and terrifying, caging you with its serpentine body. The golden claws alone are as long as your forearms, digging on the ground at either side of you.
You whimper.
The dragon lowers his head, growling at you, fangs mere inches apart and you squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down your face.
“Why do you run away from me?”
“Leave me alone!” You scream.
“Are you not happy with me? My mate?”
At the words you only sob harder.
Mate.
Oh, how much joy did that word bring you once. And now you can only feel your heart shatter.
You feel a shift in the wind, in the energy, in the light around you, and when you open your eyes, the massive dragon has faded to a more human appearance. He changes back to the form you’re most used to.
Long strands of dark hair tipped amber, striking golden eyes with stunning red lines that highlight their sharpness, a handsome face and a muscular body with arms died black, and lines of gold… lines that run along his cheek and down his neck. Cracks, like a broken glass, like scars, under his eyes and around his chest, ruining the pristine skin and unable to disappear despite his ability to change forms.
The undeniable marks of erosion.
You snap back to attention when he dips down and starts nosing at your neck, his hands pulling at the robe you’re wearing, the only article of clothing you picked up before scurrying away from the mansion. It parts open easily, revealing your naked body to his eyes, littered in past bruises, hickeys and bite marks. Claims from the dragon.
“W-wait. Stop-!” You try to push him back, panicked, desperately pressing your palms against his broad shoulders, but of course he’s immovable as stone.
You kick and trash until he gets irritated and suddenly your arms are immobilized, held above your head and pressed onto the ground by heavy geo cuffs.
“Submit.” He growls.
You squirm a little more until your body sags into the ground, exhausted, panting. There is no use. Instead, you shudder as his hands grope and rub all over your body, rough and callous.
He spreads your legs and slots between them as your breath catches. His palm presses at a spot on your navel possessively, a glittering geo symbol engraved on your skin there, glowing subtly like his horns. You whine.
Then his touch goes lower and teases at your entrance, circling the hole and dipping in just barely.
“Z-Zhongli-!”
Another growl comes out of his throat, deep and guttural. “You dare speak another man’s name in my presence? In my realm? When you belong to me?!”
Your whole body shakes, with rage, with fear. Your heart about to burst. You grit your teeth and glare at the dragon god with as much venom as you can.
“I don’t belong to you!”
He snarls, eyes widening to serpentine slits.
“Insolent. No matter, I’ll fill you up again and show you.”
The eroded God leans down to bite at your neck and you yelp, sharp fangs break your skin and you cry as you feel the warm blood spill. His claws prick at your thighs as he starts unceremoniously humping against you. The ridges on his draconic cock making your hole twitch and you gasp as he presses in, dipping slightly inside your thigh warmth. No need to prepare your body after so many years of coupling. Your hole already soft and molded to him like a worn-out toy.
“No, please… n-no.” Your voice breaks, tears running down your face.
Everything turns blurry, fuzzy, and your head spins.
How had things ended up like this?
You see no love in his eyes, no recognition. And you don’t recognize him either anymore. This creature, this beast… he is not your lover. He is not Zhongli…
And hasn’t been for who knows how long…
Zhongli raises one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other and pushes further in the slick warmth, ignoring the sounds you make. “Too big! I can’t-!” You scream and it just urges him to slam it in. “No- Ahh!” Sheathed all the way to the hilt, Zhongli groans as you clench around him.
He immediately starts thrusting and you feel the world tilt. It’s all too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, your walls getting battered by his thick member, his animalistic grunts and groans, and the way your body betrays you… a speck of pleasure mixed in with the pain.
It's so cruel.
“Sto- gh! Stop it! Zhongli, please…!” You sob.
Zhongli hisses, muscles taut and flexing as his hips buck into yours, finally finding that spot that has you choking out a moan, your body shivers, forced to surrender and feel everything, a hot coil building on your lower stomach where the mark of geo glows as he continues to take what he wants from your struggling form. He laps at your skin and nuzzles there, almost lovingly. “Mine.”
Your moans start turning sweeter, previously pained sounds turning to vocalizations of carnal lust, your eyes glassy. You try to fight it, conflicted, but the stimulation is too much.
You come with a raw cry through gritted teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks and your own juices coating your skin causing you to feel dirty in more ways than one. Zhongli continues through your overstimulated state, chasing his own pleasure as his thrust become erratic until finally, he stills deep inside and moans long and low, painting your insides white.
You feel him twitch inside you and groan, absolutely exhausted, overwhelmed with emotions, feeling sick, used and abused. He lowers your leg but doesn’t bother pulling out, keeping you there as he nips at your skin, murmuring soft words. “My mate. All pretty and filled up. All mine. Love you.”
You can’t bear to hear those words, spoken in the voice you continue to love after all this time. It shatters your soul, breaking it to pieces like the corroded dragon’s destroyed mind.
Feeling about to pass out, you close your eyes and your head lolls to the side, sniffling against your own forearm as tears continue to fall. “I love… Zhongli. Miss him. I hate you…”
He dissolves the geo shackles into specks of gold and holds your unconscious body in his arms, satisfied with the claims and scent he’s left on you. His tail swishes slowly, pleased with himself as he carries you back to the abode’s mansion.
Home.
Were he’ll keep you safe, bound to him.
Forever and always.
-----
…It is said that his lover is the key to keep the eroded God confined.
Trapped by the possessive dragon in a sealed realm, to keep him ensnared, enchanted and bound to them.
Until they both turn to dust.
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cheriteri · 16 days ago
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when i close my eyes, i play in paradise
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deweyduck · 2 years ago
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@pscentral​​ event 15: favourite relationships
↳ ANNE BOONCHUY, SASHA WAYBRIGHT, & MARCY WU
Change can be difficult, but it's how we grow. It can be the hardest thing to realise you can't hold on to something forever. Sometimes... you have to let it go. But of the things you let go... you'd be surprised... what makes its way back to you.
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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 6 months ago
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[CN] Li Zeyan’s Upcoming Top-up SP
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“The sweetness I desire is at your fingertips.”
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“All those summers we have missed have come to see you.”
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seventh-district · 1 month ago
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Dying Star
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In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.
You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.
"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."
You think about dead stars.
You think about time.
- - - - - - -
Sam’s words have been weighing heavy on your mind ever since you discussed your shared future and the various forms it could take. You didn’t realize just how heavy they were until it all came spilling out of your tired mind on a late night spent together beneath the stars.
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Pairing: Sam x Darlin' / Reader
Word Count: 4,053
Contains: [angst] [a dash of humor] [a hint of chubby!Sam bc i like 'em strong and soft] [crying] [cuddling (dub-con cuddles with Quinn in the past & consensual ones with Sam in the present)] [emotional hurt/comfort] [implied/referenced dub-con sex (nothing graphic) (in the past between Darlin' and Quinn to be specific) (refer to my Ao3 notes for further explanation)] [mentioned Quinn] [not quite Dissociation i guess but Darlin' does zone-out/get lost in thought more than once] [pet names (Darlin' (obvs.) and honey)] [Reader is Darlin'] [Sam wears a cowboy hat bc i said so] [some passive suicidality from Sam if you squint (hell, maybe you don't even have to squint)]
A/Ns: Well, well, well, here I am, the person who said they wouldn't write any Redactedverse fanfic. I recently felt a mighty need to expand upon the blurb I wrote in this post, and I'm braving my fandom anxiety by sharing it here. pls be nice 2 me abt it
Timeline-wise, this fic takes place sometime after the ‘Talking About the Future With Your Vampire Mate’ audio but sometime before their presumed eventual departure from the house that William gave Sam, given that they've already had the 'turning' discussion but are still on the same roof in this fic.
This is a songfic, inspired by and quoting verses from 3 songs. Those being:
‘Dying Star’ by Ashnikko feat. Ethel Cain
‘Fix What You Didn’t Break’ by Nate Smith
‘No Plan’ by Hozier
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The roof of Sam’s house is far from a ‘cushy’ place to relax. But as you lie here next to him under the stars, a knowledge settles within you that you wouldn’t trade the rough shingles beneath you for the softest mattress in the world. Not if it meant there’d be anyone other than him lying next to you.
Some people might counter that it’s an easy thing for you to say, given the number of nights you’ve thrown a balled-up shirt onto one end of a worn-out couch and called it a bed. But some people don’t know you as well as they think they do.
You’ve known luxury. Quinn might’ve been just as content taking his fill on a seedy motel bed as he was wrapped in silks at a Hilton, but he knew how to play up the luxe when it served him to do so. And in the early days as he worked to lure you in, it did. Plush sheets and expensive drinks helped to soften the preordained blows and dull the imminent pain that your nights with him held.
Once you’d latched onto the bait though, he let the act drop one piece at a time, like props collapsing on a stage. After all, what was the point in all of those frivolities when you both knew what you really came to him for? It wasn’t to be wined and dined, it wasn’t to be dressed up and shown off, and it wasn’t even to be slowly stripped of it all, laid out across the rolling clouds of a pillowy mattress.
It was to be used. Tranced. Restrained. Bitten. Drank from. Choked. Hit. Edged. Denied. Made to writhe and whine and bleed and plead. Plead for more, for less, for nothing, for anything. Anything to quiet your mind and fill the ever-expanding void inside you where you suspect love was supposed to live.
That’s what you both really wanted.
At least, that’s what you told him you wanted.
That’s what you told yourself.
You only got what you asked for.
To your right, Sam stirs, stretching gently with a yawn. The soft noise he releases as he does so reminds you of where you are, and you trace back through your thoughts to find how you got so lost.
…Right. Luxury.
While your relationship with Quinn certainly changed over time, you never forgot what it felt like in the beginning. 
You remember nights laid next to him, body sore, mind quiet. Quinn’s idea of aftercare was lacking to say the least, but you had nothing better to compare it to at the time, and you’d take what you could get. At least your head felt empty, and the bed was soft. Exhaustion would pull you under soon enough.
The mattress, sheets, and pillows enveloping you were likely worth more than you even made that past month. ...Or several. You found that display of luxury hard to be impressed by though, when it wasn’t the type of comfort you’d been seeking.
As Quinn shifted in his presumed sleep, pulling you in tighter, you didn’t fight it. You found yourself unwilling to fight anything he did, like his mere presence was enough to drain the fight right out of you. You told yourself that you were okay with that. Because you wanted it.
Lying there with your head on his bare chest, you took a deep breath and told yourself that you liked the stench of cheap cologne, poorly masking the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath. You silently told yourself that you liked everything. You liked the pain that he chased with hints of pleasure. You liked the loss of power, the way you couldn’t fight back if you wanted to once he looked you in the eyes. You liked all the things he said, no matter how much the truth might hurt.
He was right, you supposed. Your desires, the things you craved, the depravity that you so enjoyed, wasn’t normal. It was uncommon, unusual, and in the eyes of some, unfathomable. To possess such dark desires, there must be something truly broken inside you.
How lucky you were, to have found someone willing to indulge you. Someone that could give you everything you wanted, and be so kind as to keep it a secret too. He promised that word of the things he did to you, the things you let him do, would never get out. You remember the way he held your hand as he told you, falling for the guise of sincerity in his eyes. You remember his warm smile, and his razor sharp teeth.
You remember seeing that exact same smile on his face through one-way glass as he sat across from Sam and told him everything.
You stood in that room and thought back to those nights of luxury. To the feeling of his nails ghosting over the freshly healed punctures in your neck. To the way he held you against him. You remember laying there, lifeless, feeling like prey playing dead. Afraid to move, afraid to disturb him. But why? He hadn’t threatened you. He never told you that you had to stay. He never said that you couldn’t move, or pull away. So why did you feel that way?
As you stood, helplessly witnessing hours of his slander in that interrogation room, you understood. Your rose-tinted glasses had long since shattered, and you saw that smile for what it was. It was the smile of a man playing a dangerous game, brimming with satisfaction, thinking he’d won.
The radio near you begins to crackle, static obscuring the hosts voice as they announce the upcoming song. Sam doesn’t even open his eyes, just raises a hand and reaches out, blindly adjusting the antenna of the old device.
You’ve teased him for holding onto it for so long, as he is wont to do with damn near all of his possessions. But as you watch him deftly extend and angle the antenna with practiced care, the response he once gave you proves itself true once again.
“I don’t wanna replace it, Darlin’. It’s not broken. It just needs someone who knows how to make it sing again.”
The static clears, and music flows through the radio’s old speakers once more.
You watch Sam return his hand to its prior position beneath his head, acting as a makeshift pillow of his own. The way he’s lying has his hat pushed forward, and it’d be doing a damn good job of shielding his face from the sun if it weren’t somewhere around midnight at the moment. Still, it suits him somehow, despite its lack of any practicality. All he’s missing is a stalk of wheat between his teeth and a tree to lean against and he’d be the spitting image of the cowboy he swears he isn’t.
His other hand rests on the soft curve of his stomach, rising and falling again as he breathes. He’s the image of peace in moments like these, and you’re drawn to it like a moth to flame. Maybe one of these days you’ll find some of your own, but for now you’re more than content to bask in his.
As you admire him, he takes a slow, deep breath and you mirror it on instinct. The grounding practice helps you leave your mind and return to your body, if just for a moment. In doing so, you realize just how tense your ruminations have made you.
You relax your hands, releasing the blanket beneath you from your iron grip. You brush your palms over it, worried that you’ve torn the fabric once you realize that your nails had halfway shifted to claws. You don’t fret much over damage to your own possessions, but this blanket is Sam’s and you’d hate to ruin it. Though, you suppose he doesn’t prize it too much or he wouldn’t have laid it out here across the roof in the first place.
“If I buy somethin’ it’s because I wanna use��it. Now quit frettin’ and get over here.” You recall what he told you earlier as he patted the blanket next to him in invitation, and you smile.
Doing a small stretch of your own, you release the tension in your shoulders, turning your attention back to the stars above you. For a while, you let the soft music wash over your tired mind.
“I asked him not to kill me politely. He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source. I washed up on the sea glass shores. I’m nobody's captive.”
In spite of your best efforts to relax, you’re still subconsciously futzing with the loose threads of the old blanket beneath you.
You’re made aware of it when Sam reaches a hand down, gently laying it over yours and effectively stilling your anxious motion.
“Burning like a dying star, invasive weeds rooted in my heart, set in a crooked trajectory. The journey here was hard, I was almost pulled apart. Trying to leave his orbit took what’s left of me.”
You flip your hand over beneath his so you can hold it properly, lacing your fingers together.
For reasons beyond your understanding, emotion tightens your throat, the threat of tears pooling in your eyes.
…You must be more tired than you thought.
As minutes pass and one song fades into another, your gaze dances across the blurry, scattered points of light in the dark sky.
“You were the star in the pitch black, shine the way on the way back. Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers.”
Sam’s always been so much better at identifying stars and finding constellations. But as the music plays, you begin to see one of your own.
“Picked up the towel that I threw in, took in a heart that was ruined. Showed me the past ain’t a tattoo, loved me even when you didn’t have to.”
“Sam.” You squeeze his hand to get his attention.
He squeezes back in acknowledgment. “Hm?”
“I want you to look at something.” You swallow back the emotion that tries to seep into your voice, but it catches his attention all the same.
He leans up and lifts his hat from his head, setting it aside near the radio. He then reaches to turn a dial back, lowering the music’s volume to give you his full attention.
You release his hand, raising yours up as he turns back to face you. You don’t say anything at first, nearly too lost in your own mind to realize you need to actually voice your developing thoughts.
"What—what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"
Your hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in your line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above you. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."
Sam does his best to follow your less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', your pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along your exposed wrist where your sleeve had slipped back, he takes your hand in his again and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"
"That's you." You say, matter-of-factly.
"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.
"Mhm." You nod with finality, blinking slow.
Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting you. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."
You scoff. "I am being serious."
Sam stifles a laugh. "No—no I mean—like... what's another name for it... Oh, it's also called the Dog Star."
"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."
He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but you cut him off before he can start. "But no. No, this isn't about me. That's you."
He decides to play along, finding something endearing in your overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"
Your frown is audible in your voice as you latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"
He smiles at your over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, honey, I promise."
You huff, but begrudgingly shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention.”
Sam’s brow furrows as you continue to explain, realization setting in that you really are being serious.
“I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...And there you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places and people that I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, at Wonderworld, surrounded by the ghost of him. Your warmth, your presence, your aura—even with all of your walls up, you outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me home."
In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.
You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.
"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."
You think about dead stars.
You think about time.
"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand squeezes yours tight, his urgent tone pulling you out of your thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"
You look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, faint shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.
You reach out, pulling him down into you. He falters for a moment at the sudden proximity, but quickly embraces you in turn. Burying your face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear your words, muffled against the thick flannel, but his hearing catches them just fine.
"Don't burn out too quickly. Please. I still need you here. I don't—I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."
The words feel like a weight being lifted from your shoulders, but with it comes a flood of emotion they’d been holding back. You cry harder into him, and as much as it pains Sam to witness, he lets you feel it, for as long as you need.
Your fear of losing him manifests itself physically, nails curling and sharpening again. When he feels them prick his skin through the fabric of his shirt, he calls your name but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans further down into you, letting his weight ground you. “Darlin’, I am right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
As you eventually cry yourself out, enough wherewithal returns to you to realize that you should probably release the poor man from your grasp, and the awkward position you pulled him into. When he pulls away enough to see your face, you notice a string of snot running from your nose to his shirt collar. Quickly batting it away out of embarrassment, you cringe, voice thick as you apologize. “Eugh, gross. Uh… sorry. About that.”
He shakes his head, laughing good-naturedly as you wipe at your nose with your jacket sleeve. “It’s completely fine, honey. After all, I’ve been covered in plenty of your, uh… various fluids before. When you come from my line of work, this is child’s play.”
He leans to his right, reaching back and pulling—of all things—a handkerchief from his jeans’ left back pocket. You laugh at his words, and at the sight, but with how congested you are it turns into more of a hacking cough than anything. Accepting his offering, you blow your nose into the black patterned fabric.
As soon as you can speak somewhat clearly, you can’t stop the teasing remark that slips out of you, gesturing with the wad of fabric in your hand. “You know, you really aren’t beating the cowboy allegations with stuff like this.”
He rolls his eyes but his soft smile remains. “It’s a practical thing to have on me, ‘allegations’ be damned.”
You shake your head with a smile of your own, but don’t disagree. As you’re visibly unsure what to do with the dirtied fabric, he takes it from you, setting it aside. “I’ll toss it in the wash when we go back inside. Along with my shirt, and…” He eyes you for a moment. “…that jacket of yours too, given how long you’ve probably been wearin’ it.”
Normally you’d argue that it hasn’t been that long, but come to think of it, you actually can’t recall when you last washed the thing.
Reaching up and rubbing your temples, you already regret your crying fit as a headache begins to set in. “Fuck, Sam... I’m sorry for… whatever that just was. I don’t know what came over me.”
His expression falls into something serious again. “You never need to apologize for feeling. And it certainly seems like… you needed to feel that.”
You nod quietly, but don’t elaborate, prompting him to question you gently. “Darlin’. What was that about? The—the askin’ me not to leave. Are you… afraid that I’m gonna leave you?”
You close your eyes, weighing out your response. “…Not in the sense that you’ll break up with me or something, no.”
His gaze narrows and his head tilts as he rolls your answer over in his mind. “If it ain’t that, then—” He remembers how you mentioned ‘forever’ and cuts himself off as the puzzle pieces start coming together. “Oh. …Oh, Darlin’, no.”
You open your eyes to watch as he shifts from leaning next to you, moving to sit up beside you. “Is this about what I told you, when we sat up here and had our uh… turning discussion?”
You hate to admit it, but you nod in confirmation. “…It’s your choice, Sam, and I never want to take that away from you. I shouldn’t have said what I just did, I—I don’t want to make you feel guilty, or like you have to stick around for my sake. But I’d be lying to you if I said it hasn’t been playing on my mind. The thought of you… leaving. Like that.”
He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “I… think I maybe should’ve been a bit more clear, when I said that. Because I wasn’t talking about any time soon. I didn’t want to give you the false impression that I plan on sticking around for centuries, but… I also wasn’t trying to imply that I’ve got plans to do it next week either.”
You bolt upright, voice cracking. “Next week?! I sure as shit hope not!” You grab your head, pain flaring and suddenly dizzy from the quick shift in position.
He places a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “I’m not, honey, I’m not. Did you catch the rest of my sentence? I’ve got no plans to leave this world any time soon. I promise.”
You groan, head pounding. “I heard you, I did, I just—fuck, I don’t even wanna think about you leaving so soon. Here I am, stressing, thinking I’ve only got—I don’t know—some odd years left with you, and…” You sigh, trailing off.
Sam stays quiet for a minute, letting the crickets sing.
Eventually, he interrupts their chorus. “…Can I get closer to you?”
You nod. “…Please.”
He closes the gap between you, carefully wrapping a strong arm around your curled shoulders. “You’ve got way more than a couple years. I promise you that.” Your tension begins to ease a bit as he clarifies. “You… you’ve helped me find a life that I actually feel like livin’ again, for the first time in a long time. And I want to experience it with you for as long as I can.”
“…Really?” Your voice sounds so small, so unsure, so… unlike you when you question him that he wants to kick himself in his own ass for the role he unintentionally played in making you feel this way.
“Yes. Really. I mean—” His voice takes on an edge of humor. “If you decide to set your sights on the year 3,000…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. But as far as the 21st century is concerned? …I think I’d like to see it through. For as long as you’re there to see it with me.”
His words cause fresh tears to well up in your eyes, and you sniff in an attempt to hold them back. The sound catches his attention, and he leans forward, thumbing across your warm cheek. “…I’m makin’ you cry again…”
You shake your head, clearing your throat. “No—No, it’s okay. It’s good. They’re… they’re good. It’s… relief.”
He breathes out a relieved sigh of his own. “Yeah?”
You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah.”
As you rest against each other, breathing in the cool night air, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Can we… lay back? For a bit?”
He squeezes your arm in gentle confirmation. “Of course.”
He twists and reaches back to straighten the wrinkled blanket beneath you, before laying out across it himself. The radio crackles as he turns the volume back up a bit. Watching him with tired eyes, you smile at the sight of him patting his chest in habitual invitation.
“Sit in and watch the sunlight fade. Honey, enjoy, it’s gettin’ late. There’s no plan. There’s no hand on the reign. As Mack explained, there will be darkness again.”
Curling up against his side and laying your head on his chest, you release a heavy sigh when his hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. As his fingers press rhythmically into the tense muscle beneath them, you breathe in his scent. Black coffee and wildflower honey… he smells like home.
“Your secret is safe with me, and if secrets were like seeds, when I’m lyin’ under marble, marvel at flowers you’ll have made.”
You reach your hand out across his broad chest, slipping beneath his open flannel and sliding down to rest on his waist. He sighs, relaxing further beneath your touch.
“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand. That’s how I know now that you understand.”
Yeah, you’ll take this over ‘luxury’ any damn day.
“There’s no plan. There’s no race to be run.”
Laying there with him, listening to the low hum of the radio, the moment grows so comfortable that you almost hesitate to break it.
“The harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song.”
“…Sam?” You whisper into the night.
His hand sweeps across your back before returning to your shoulder. “I’m here, Darlin’.”
“There’s no plan. There’s no kingdom to come.”
You smile. “I… I’d like to be there, to be here, to see it through with you, too.”
It takes him a moment to recall exactly what you’re referring to, but when it hits him he hums a low understanding tone, clearly pleased. “Then let’s see where it takes us, yeah?”
“But I’ll be your man if you got love to get done.”
He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve got plenty a’ time.”
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A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my extensive notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. My Sam & Darlin' Playlist My Sam Playlist My Darlin' Playlist My Sam & Darlin' Moodboard My Sam Moodboard My Darlin' Moodboard Header Image Credit: Gage Smith on Unsplash
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted sam#redacted darlin#redacted fanfic#redacted fandom#sam collins#samuel collins#redacted tank#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#one of my last Redacted posts didn't make it into the tags. which wasn't a big deal since it wasn't something important#but i spent some real time and effort on this fic so if tumblr yeets This post into the void i Will cry. and then painstakingly repost it#i've got big feelings about Sam and y'all r gonna see it whether u like it or not /lh#anyways hey this fic was unexpected. and much like Midnight Hour the production time was relatively fast thanks to the power of Fixation#i was gonna post the next chapter of Heaven in Hiding and then work on a Boothill oneshot and then maybe the [N]MbD New Year's fic#but i've been feeling Some Kinda Way lately and i guess i needed to project it onto Sam. so this fic took precedence#i humbly offer my first contribution to the Redacted fandom. pls don't attack me if they're OOC /hj#i'm out here doing my best to walk the line between canon compliance and self-indulgence#also i know that bright thing in the header image i used can't be Sirius. it's gotta be like. a planet i think? not sure which one tho#i've never even seen a planet that bright but my sky isn't all that dark so maybe they Can look that bright in some places#idk. the image description on Unsplash doesn't say. but 'planet' is in the tags so that's my guess#the only thing i've seen be that bright in the night sky 'round here is military flares. but maybe it's to do with how the photo was taken#a n y w a y s point is. the star Darlin' sees isn't That bright but the photo was too fitting not to use
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paranormaljones · 4 months ago
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i propose we kill walmart
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osamusriceballs · 1 year ago
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The Accident - Part XVII
Atsumu x fem reader
Warnings: Making out
Words: 1,5 k
About: Back to Onigiri Miya &lt;3
Part I II -> Next Part
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"Finally. Took ya long enough."
Osamu rolls his eyes when you both enter the shop. You apologetically smile and wave while uttering a greeting. "Hey, Osamu. Sorry for being late." Atsumu grins widely, simply ignoring Osamu's comment while you both move to the counter, where Osamu is working. You notice that he looks a bit tired after moving closer, the bags under his eyes proof that he probably only slept a few hours before he had to open up the shop again. Yet, he still professionally forms Onigiri with his hands, everything looking as flawless and clean as the last time you had been there.
Osamu finally looks up to you both when you reach him and suddenly raises his brows when he sees how tightly your hand is held by Atsumu's. His mouth opens slightly, as if to comment on it, but he closes it silently without saying anything before he diverts his attention back to the Onigiri in his hands, now with a small smile adorning his lips. Your face warms up and you mentally thank every deity for making Osamu the more tactful and considerate twin. You're quite certain that Atsumu would have commented on that, if he had been in Osamu's place. Such a tease.
You clear your throat and let go of Atsumu's hand, but his grip around yours is so tight that it doesn't make any visible difference. "Samu, I'm starvin'—could eat the whole menu today. Gimme that please." Atsumu points towards the filled plate in front of Osamu, who just groans as a response and rolls his eyes. "Yer only here for five seconds and I already wanna kick ya out."
You blink in surprise when Osamu simply pushes the plate towards Atsumu and then turns around to open the fridge. "I prepared somethin' for ya. Take it before I change my mind." He hands you another plate with dishes that you remember from the last time you had been there, and you hastily pull your hand out of Atsumu's death grip to take it. "That's—amazing! Thank you." Your stomach clenches at the sight of the food, and you become painfully aware of the fact that you haven't eaten anything since last night, and it's around 4 pm at this point.
"I'll make sure to tag ya in an Instagram post, Samu." Atsumu grins and places one hand at the small of your back to direct you towards a free table. "Here." He quickly places his plate on the table and moves back to the counter. "I'll get us something to drink." You smile and nod while you try to calm yourself down. Your heart starts beating faster when you think about what has just happened with him in his apartment. How he had kissed you and held you. How he was laying on top of you and grinding against you- so needily and desperate. How your hands had been buried into his hair, desperate for him to deepen the kiss—and he did.
But it all came to an end when you had moaned against his lips, the sound so breathless and lewd that your eyes shot open—and he pulled away with a curse. "God, y/n. I can't—we shouldn't—gosh, fuck. I want you so badly." You could see his clenched jaw, his flushed cheeks, and feel the hardness in his pants without a doubt. You knew he wants to go further- but the wetness between your legs was also evidence of how much you wanted him, and you were quite certain that he could feel your warmth and wetness through his pants at this point. But you knew it's not right. Not now, not so shortly after all that.
You had taken a deep breath and then untangled your legs around his body. "It's probably for the best if we stop right now." You smiled a bit strained, your body wanting nothing more but to stay here forever and let him have his way with you, but your mind told you to slow down. You didn't want to ruin this by starting something like this too soon. He had simply nodded but still leaned down to press a longing kiss against your lips. You had melted into the feeling of his lips against yours and reached out for him, only to have him grab your wrists a little clumsily while he pulled back from the kiss and pinned your hands to the bed. Your eyes widened at your vulnerable position under him—and a throb of need rushed through your body.
His eyebrows shot up and his lips curled into a smug grin at your reaction. "Oh? Ya like that? Seems like we're in for a good time then." You swore you could have exploded any second, especially if he kept looking at you like that, and you simply released a shallow huff at his words. "Yer really testin' me here, wifey." He closed his eyes for a second and then pulled back. "Imma take a quick shower and then we can grab somethin' to eat at Samu's. Is that alright with ya?" You had simply nodded, too flustered to form words, and he pecked your cheek one last time before he headed to the bathroom.
After that, you wobbly made it to the other bathroom, quickly washing your face and getting dressed again, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you were this close to giving in and begging him to sleep with you. You have never felt like this with someone else; Atsumu just elicits feelings and actions from your body that you would never have thought were possible. He's a great kisser, and judging from the way he had been grinding his hips against yours, you were quite certain that he will be equally as good in bed. Your face had heated up again at the thought of sleeping with him, and you had quickly grabbed your stuff and go back to the bedroom. You both quickly took your things and made your way towards Onigiri Miya, but not without making out heavily in the elevator.
"Here ya go." Atsumu places two drinks on the table, and you get pulled out of your thoughts. You try to look calm and composed with a smile and thank him while he takes his seat, shortly admiring him in his simple, yet very attractive outfit. A white shirt and a pair of jeans—nothing special, but when Atsumu wears it, it just looks that appealing.
"Don't worry, these are alcohol-free. I'll stop drinking for a while for sure." He scratches the back of his head bashfully, and you laugh softly. "I figured so. But aren't you training like crazy now? Isn't it bad for you to drink anyway?"
A faint pink hue covers his cheeks at your words. "True that. I'm gonna stay away from alcohol for a long time." He shakes his head and then looks away. "Can't believe it's just a few more weeks till the Olympics. Time is running but- oh, let's start with the food already. Can't wait any longer, I'm sorry." He takes an Onigiri off his plate and eagerly digs in, and you're quick to join him, amused by his cute expression while he's chewing. He must have been starving for sure.
"I feel so much better already." He grins, and you nod while you eat a spoonful of your meal, enjoying the taste of fried rice. "Me too. I love Osamu's food." Atsumu nods and pretends to think for a second and then smugly grins. "Seems like yer fallin' for all the Miya's. We're a talented family after all."
"I'm not falling for all the Miyas!" You weakly protest, but the food could definitely make you consider Osamu as a possible partner. "Just kiddin'." He chuckles but suddenly yawns while he reaches for another Onigiri. "I'll drive ya home after that. I'm way too tired for anything more." He does look exhausted now. You don't know how he manages to even hold a proper conversation in his state, his eyes closing every few seconds before he almost violently pulls them open again.
"That's okay." You smile sympathetically and reach for your drink. He got your favorite, and you feel a sudden warmth running though your body at this realization. "I'm also exhausted after last night. But uhm..." You hesitantly fish for your phone and unlock it. "Do you maybe want to give me your new number?" You feel a faint blush creeping up your cheeks, but you're too afraid that you'll forget about it later- especially when he can barely keep his eyes open. "Oh? Sure." His eyes light up, and he quickly wipes his fingers on his tissue before he takes your phone. "Here ya go. I'll make sure to text ya every day."
"You don't have to text me every day." You snort but smile at the thought of always waking up to messages of Atsumu. "I will. Don't worry." Something about the way he says that makes you believe him, and break the intense eye contact when you take the phone with slightly shaky hands and look at the screen.
There it is, your new contact:
Husband
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soaps-mohawk · 6 months ago
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CRCB reminds me of a wolf hybrid reader fic, Reign Down On Me by @/placeinthemiddleofnowhere (probably bc I found both of them and read both on the same day), and they're both my favorite little comfort fics.
-⚰️
Aww 🥺 I do love a hybrid fic, I'll have to add that one to my tbr list 💚
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im-derty-dan · 2 years ago
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they're brothers and they make each other laugh and they have inside jokes and they grew up together and share the same memories and they love each other and
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schnoop · 19 days ago
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sorry if there's an increase in horniness levels on my blogs. im only regaining a taste for life I thought I had lost forever.
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