#Labyrinth SH

[crimescrimson]

The Labyrinth in Silent Hill 2 (2024)

[goddessofwisdom18]

"I'll place the moon within your heart..." / "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too?"

-

Elucien as Sarah and Jareth from Labyrinth (1986)

[tititiri]

I committed this crime. I drew my kins with the attributes of the graphic for this personality...

Thank you @diveniweh

[forsakenmb]

"Im just helping"

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Word Count - 1.5k

Warnings - Dark! Rafe Cameron, Gentle!Rafe?, dub-con/non-con, alcohol use, manhandling?, unprotected sex

The air around you was warm, and the deafening howl of music was loud as you walked slowly through Tannyhill, the large estate twisting and turning around you like an infinite labyrinth. The drinks you had had earlier were way too strong, and now all you wanted to do was find an empty room to lay down in. Away from the loud, thunderous roar of the music, the chatter of people, and the smell of alcohol.

The tips of your fingers traced the length of the wall next to you as you walked further down the next hall. Sauntering through the mazes of doors and corridors.

Before long, your head began spinning relentlessly, your stomach twisting and turning. You placed both of your hands against the wall and closed your eyes. Even from behind the lids of your eyes, it still was as if the world was spinning, twirling faster and faster on its axis.

You leaned your head against the wall, your knees beginning to buckle. And just when you thought they were going to give out and you would drop to the floor: a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist, bracing you against their firm build.

Your feet stumbled in an attempt to turn around to see who was steadying you. In your hasty attempt to see the person behind you: you lost your footing and fell into the strong chest of the individual holding you.

“Sh, it's okay, I've got you.” The voice was familiar and belonged to a man. His arms moved, scooping you up into them swiftly. He held you in bridal style, your head lying against his shoulder as he began walking through the twists and turns of Tannyhill. Your eyes fluttered shut as the man holding you continued to walk, rocking you into a restless sleep.

You could feel yourself being set down onto a plush mattress, your shoes being slipped off, and the distinct ‘thud’  of them hitting the ground.

He slid in between your thighs, his hands gripping the exposed skin of them. Then the man leaned down, one arm bracing himself against the mattress next to your head, the other rubbing up and down one of your thighs, almost soothingly.

He pressed a quick kiss against your jaw, then continued down your neck with sloppy kisses and sharp nips. Your eyes peeled open at the feeling, a small whine slipping past your lips. In the darkness of the room you were in, you saw Rafe Cameron hovering above you, a lustful gleam in his eyes.

“Rafe..” his name came out in a short gasp, like you couldn't catch your breath. “What are you-” Before you could finish your sentence, his lips were pressing gently against yours, locking you into a deep kiss.

When Rafe pulled away from your lips, you were panting lightly. “You're doing so good already,” he said in a sickly sweet tone, pressing another peck against your lips. Rafe sat back up, his hands moving the skirt you wore up until the panties you sported were exposed to his intrusive eyes.

One of his hands stayed planted against your thigh, keeping it open. The other sliding down in between your legs, his thumb running against your clothed slit.

“I-I don't wanna-” you slurred, your eyes struggling to stay open. Your arms moved, and you sheepishly grabbed onto the wrist between your thighs. Panic started to set in quickly, your heart beating faster and your breathing erratical.

His hand moved away from your cunt, gently tugging his wrist out of your weak grip. And just when you thought he'd finally gotten it, his hands moved higher to the waistband of your panties. His fingers hooked around the elastic band, and began pulling them down your thighs slowly, knuckles brushing lightly against your skin, and he cooed gently. “I'm just helping you, baby,”

Again, your hands gripped his wrists loosely, a pathetic attempt at stopping him. “Stop it, Rafe” your words slurring together. Still, he kept tugging it down your supple thighs, your hands losing their grip on his wrists.

He slid off the bed, your underwear going with him. You tried to sit up. However, your arms couldn't quite hold the weight of your upper body, and you fell back down onto the bed. You heard clothes dropping to the floor, your stomach beginning to twist and turn. With the little energy you could muster, you rolled over onto your stomach and began to scramble across the bed, trying to escape the man behind you.

Before you could reach the edge of the bed, Rafe's hand wrapped your ankle tightly and yanked you back down. A shrill scream managed to escape your throat, but you could still hear the loud beat of the music downstairs, the sound of chatter and footsteps.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him until you could practically feel the heat radiating off of his body. “I told you, ‘m just helping.” his tone was still gentle, but the grip he held on your hips was tightening.

His thumbs ran up and down the skin of your hip softly. He started grinding gently into you. Only the thin layer of his briefs was in the way. Suddenly, the heat radiating off of Rafe's became too much. It was intoxicating and overwhelming.

“Rafe, stop it” you say, tears beginning to well up in your dazed looking eyes. Uneasiness sinking further into the pit of your stomach.

Soon, he pulled away, letting go of your hips as well. “Shh, it's okay” he hissed , then you heard the quiet sound of clothes shifting behind you. One of his hands regained its grip on your hip, the other guiding the tip of his cock through your folds. A low throaty groan escaping his mouth.

Nausea swelled inside of you, heart hammering inside of your chest, small cries and sobs leaving your mouth, your breathing uneven and sporadic.

Then Rafe pressed the crown of his cock against your entrance, the hand on your hip tightening its grasp on you, and slowly he slid into you. A dull ache spreading through your lower half as he did. You began squirming underneath him, hands grabbing at the comforter, attempting to pull yourself out from beneath him.

One of the hands on your hip let go, and moved up to grip at the nape of your neck, pressing the side of your head into the mattress. “Enough of that shit” he said, annoyance edging into his tone. Puncturing his sentence with a shallow thrust, burrowing deeper into your cunt.

Slowly, Rafe pulled out of you, his cock dragging against the walls of your cunt until just the tip of his cock remained inside of you, before driving back into you harshly. A shrill squeal escaped your mouth, your hands gripping the comforter harder than before.

Soon, the dull ache between your thighs began to lessen, and pleasure arose in its wake. It was as if every nerve in your body was ignited at once, a gasp leaving your mouth as he started driving into you at a fast pace.

Then, a series of small gasps and moans were leaving your mouth, your body shaking under Rafe from his brutal pace. “Rafe!” You cried out, tears dribbling down your face.

“That's it, baby” he groaned, the fingers around your nape flexing and squeezing the back of your neck in a bruising grip. “Jus’ lay there and take it”

The only sounds left in the room were from your gasps and moans and the slapping of skin against skin. His thrusts were brutal almost, each knocking the wind out of your lungs, the bed lurching forward every time he burrowed into your cunt.

You could almost feel yourself dripping onto the bed below you, getting wetter with every thrust into you. The hand at the back of your neck moved, slithering under you, forcing you up onto your knees.

When he lifted you up, you couldn't keep your head up, instead laying it on Rafes shoulder. His pace was just as harsh, each stroke hitting deeper inside of you than the last.

The hand resting on your hip slid down and started rubbing tight circles on your clit, the other reaching up and grabbing at your breast through your thin top, another moaned leaving your lips as he continued playing with your body.

Every thrust left you panting and whining, your hips involuntarily trying to buck back into him, your hands grabbing at his bicep, nails digging into the skin, leaving little crescents in their wake.

You could feel yourself practically throbbing around him, his cock hitting so deep you were seeing stars. “Fuuck” you moaned.

“You gonna cum already?” Rafe said, almost tauntingly. He began thrusting harder into you, fingers lightly pinching at your clit.

More tears pricked in your eyes, rolling down your flushed face. Your stomach twisted and turned with the overwhelming pleasure, and before you knew it you were cumming on his cock with a loud moan.

Rafe's thrust became sporadic, his groans more frequent as he kept driving his cock into you. “You're gonna take it all, right baby?” He said, nipping at your jaw.

But before you could respond, Rafe burrowed himself inside of you, and with a low moan, he came, depositing his seed inside of you.

The End

[crunchkind]

🌇🌇🌇

[muzetrigger]

In celebration of Nevermore S2, I feel the need to explain why I’m hoping for more Ada page time/development and why she’s my absolute favorite character, despite the series being absolutely stuffed with quality.

Oh and also why MorellAda is peak. I WILL TAKE NO ARGUMENTS ON THIS POINT.

So yeah, MAJOR SPOILERS Y’ALL

Okay, so when we’re first introduced Ada, she’s a minor antagonist, not just in the sense that she’s not the main villain, but that literally, she’s just kind of an annoyance to both Lenore and Prospero. That being said, shortly after the Labyrinth arc, we see her genuinely impressed with Lenore and trying to make amends.

Now at that point, there’s no real reason for us to believe that Ada is telling the truth. Yeah, she seems like she’s being genuine, but so far, we also know that she’s been playing some social games to get ahead.

That’s where we get this first piece of insight into her character (not actually the first piece but whatever):

Ada chooses caviar as her last meal, despite not liking it, or ever having had it before. She is the only student who doesn’t enjoy her final meal, and that tells us that one, Ada doesn’t know what’s good for her; two, that she probably comes from a lower class background that never would have had access to caviar; and three, that she aspires to that upper class position. She is exactly what Morella would call a “phony” but while her phoniness impacts her social behavior in the ways that Morella criticizes, she’s also lying to herself without even realizing it.

Okay, but that’s a bit of subtle character development, so Red and Flynn hit us with this:

(In case you didn’t hate Montressor already)

This moment is so critical to understanding Ada because it shows that she has absolutely no limits when it comes to proving her worth to other people. Why? Because Ada has no sense of self-worth. She is completely dependent on other people’s thoughts to feel adequate. That’s why she clings so hard to Prospero and Annabel Lee, which makes this preceding exchange even more brutal.

Ada reaches out to Annabel for support, and Annabel ignores her.

Annabel BETRAYS her, and this is going to become something of a running theme for Ada.

Now, of course, Annabel has problems, but this is COLD.

So cold even Prospero is surprised, and this sets up why Ada crumbles so easily, because the one person she thought was her friend at this school, literally her roommate (and we know what happens when you’re not on good terms with your roommate), the person who gave her (fake) love advice, just left her out in the rain.

No one is on her side, not Annabel who’s ignoring her, not Prospero (who is rightly) annoyed with her clinginess, not Will who is supporting Montresor, and certainly not Montresor who is verbally abusing her.

The only person by Ada’s side is Morella, partly because she’s being targeted too, but also because Morella is trying to protect Ada.

(Look at that hug. That is a small puppy trying to cheer up her depressed friend.)

Chapter 39-40 firmly cemented Ada as my favorite character because we get a deconstruction of this preppy, pompous, phony personality into someone with crippling self-worth issues, and I don’t know about anyone else, but I relate HARD to those feelings of inadequacy and needing external validation. Will might be the doppelgänger, but Ada is the one with Imposter Syndrome.

Anyway, now we’re going to have to skip a few chapters, because while the haunted house arc is great, it doesn’t really do much with Ada’s character. We do learn that Ada was almost definitely a servant in her past life because she’s able to navigate the house’s secret passages, and we learn that yes, she’s a romantic who clearly doesn’t understand TPO (time, place, and occasion).

Those details are important to understanding Ada, because they help contextualize why her confidence is so abysmal (servants aren’t to be seen or heard) and why she clings so strongly to ideas of ladyhood and romance (the women she served would certainly have appeared to be more comfortable than her, though I’m sure Lenore and Annabel would disagree).

We also get this feast for the MorellAda shippers:

At this point, it’s implied that Morella has stonewalled dozens of students into Prospero’s death trap, but she makes one exception that she will not stand for, and it’s Ada.

At first, I thought this was a little weird, because why wouldn’t Morella protect Lenore? I mean, she’s the protagonist and clearly treats Morella better, but looking back, it’s telling that Ada is the one who Morella chooses.

Morella’s whole deal is that she wants to protect people, and Lenore isn’t vulnerable, Ada is.

Red and Flynn do a lot of excellent foil work in Nevermore, most prominently with Lenore and Annabel, but the contrast between Ada’s dependence on what other people think of her and Morella’s dependence on what she can do for other people is just another reason why I think MorellAda is so good.

But the real interesting events happen post-house.

Prospero has had it.

Now, was Ada being clingy? Yes.

Was she being totally oblivious to all of Prospero’s signals? Yes.

Did she deserve to be told directly that Prospero was just not that into her? Hell. Yes.

But did she deserve THAT much of a verbal beat down? Probably not, especially keeping in mind that Annabel told her this:

So now that I’ve thrown Annabel under the bus for her hand in this disaster, I want to look at one line from Prospero in particular:

“Nothing you say will make you good enough.”

It’s not the final line of Prospero’s diatribe, but it’s definitely the one that hits the hardest for Ada. She is trying SO hard to play the part of a lady in order to be loved, and she is being told that at a fundamental level, she is inadequate.

And she takes that about as well as someone who’s had this happen to them could:

A hatchet to the stomach’s going to ruin anyone’s day, but we can reasonably infer that the person who axe’d Ada was probably the young master she was serving and was having an affair with, and that he aimed for her stomach to abort any kind of child she might have carried.

Again, we see this theme of betrayal and rejection. Ada might not have been able to be a lady, but in an affair, she might been able to pretend that she genuinely had her master’s affection, even though she was just there at his convenience.

This was foreshadowed all the way back with Ada’s first confrontation with Montressor and it’s a great example of how thoroughly planned Red and Flynn’s writing is (Annabel Lee’s panic attack at Lenore’s death in the Labyrinth and the House Fire is another amazing example).

But, it’s also super traumatic which means we finally get Ada’s Spectre!

First, let me gush about how AMAZING this design is. Just aesthetically, it’s great. But it’s also amazing because of how it showcases so much of Ada’s identity. If you look at the spectre’s skirt, you’ll notice it has two distinct parts, a larger back that mimics a lady’s hoop skirt, and a pleated miniskirt, which wouldn’t be out of place in a skimpy maid costume. In her spectre form, we can clearly see Ada attempting to match a lady’s silhouette but upon closer inspection, we can also see the part of Ada that might have sparked her fatal affair, this symbol of risqué servantile behavior.

It’s also worth mentioning what ISN’T in the Banshee’s design, her abdomen. Obviously, this might be a reference to the fact that she was killed by a hatchet to the gut, but if we get dark with it (and it’s Nevermore, we can’t not get dark with it), what men traditionally (and unfortunately still do if the 2024 US elections are anything to go by…) value in a woman, her reproductive ability, is absent.

Ada, who places so much importance on what others think of her, is literally is worthless to them. (I want to clarify, I DON’T personally believe that, but from a 19th-20th century male perspective, that tracks.)

We could also read her abdomen’s absence as another attempt for Ada to play into feminine expectations. Because she’s missing her stomach, she has a tight hourglass figure. I don’t personally believe Ada has an eating disorder, but as the last dinner scene clearly indicates, she has a complicated relationship with food and what stigmas are attached to specific cuisines, and unfortunately many people do metaphorically throw away their stomachs to pursue beauty goals like Ada’s spectre does literally.

Stepping away from design, I also love how Ada acts immediately after getting the slightest bit of power.

She is PETTY.

She taunts Prospero (and let’s face it, you cheered. Don’t lie to me!), which I find so interesting because suddenly, Ada is the one giving opinions.

Ada is finally allowed to express herself.

Here, she takes it out on Annabel, which makes total sense. Annabel abandoned her and is the embodiment of what Ada craves outwardly. But Ada also recognizes that she herself is a servant who was forced to serve people like Annabel and denied their comforts because of her status. If Ada hadn’t been a maid, if maybe she had been a noble or a “true lady”, maybe should would have been allowed a romance or allowed to keep her child or at least allowed to live.

The Banshee is such a perfect moment, because until this scene, Ada has bottled up her insecurities and played the part of a loyal lackey and been this “phony”. As a servant, her entire livelihood would have revolved around keeping up appearances (or disappearances) around her masters, but as a ghost, Ada is more genuine than she has ever been.

And that’s so wonderfully displayed by how Annabel defuses the situation:

To the very end, we see Ada being vulnerable. Annabel takes advantage of her insecurities, and as the Banshee, Ada doesn’t try to hide the fact that it devastates her.

If the Montressor moment didn’t guarantee a place in my heart for Ada, Episode 71 definitely did. I’m not going to argue that characters in Nevermore haven’t experienced worse, but I will argue that no character in season one ever gets close to how pathetic and distraught Ada is here.

And what’s so heart-wrenching about this for me is that Ada is aware of how pathetic she is. She knows she’s been acting like an idiot and throwing a tantrum like a child, which is a surprising amount of insight and maturity for someone we have been led to believe is quite frankly an idiot. And yeah, I relate to those feelings of self-loathing and not knowing what to do or even where to start triaging a disaster I made myself.

Now, Montressor takes advantage of this like the abuser he is by swooping in and wooing Ada, but before that, I’m going to rewind like the shipper I am to replay this:

Again, we see Morella trying to help Ada! And obviously, that’s not what Ada needs at that moment, but it’s worth keeping in mind that out of everyone in the lecture hall then, Morella is the first and really only one to reach out to Ada. (Montressor is a manipulator. He doesn’t count.)

Last time skip, I promise!

The end of the Wall arc doesn’t quite reach the highs (or is it lows?) of Ada’s character development, but I’m so excited for what it sets up in season two.

So, Lenore and the gang find where Montressor has Cask of Amantillado’d Duke and they dig their favorite French man out while beating the shit out of our cowboy(?). There’s a ton of great moments (hell yeah, Pluto! Get him!) but the battle really swings in the misfits’ favor when Duke hypnotizes Ada to traumatize Montresor.

One, this is just an amazing display of Duke’s spectre, two, it shows that Montressor has reasons (maybe not great reasons but at least they’re reasons) for being such an asshole, and three, it shows us that mental spectre powers are straight up busted.

We already knew from Prospero that Ada’s fear factor could trap a person inside a vision of their own trauma so realistic they can feel the physical effects of it, but she can also send a man with a broken Fibula into a full blown frenzy, AND Duke’s hypnosis is something even he can’t dispel.

(Does this look like the face of a man who has things under control?)

It also sets up this exchange:

Morella is able to break through Duke’s hypnosis, and she does it without attacking Ada’s insecurities like Annabel did. Now, I’m a hopeless MorellAda shipper, so of course I reading into this, but even then, it showcases how important Morella is to Ada. After all, Morella is basically the only person who has stuck by Ada’s side this whole time.

…At least until this happens:

Morella has had enough of Ada’s excuses, and just like Prospero basically tells her to shove off.

But the painfully ironic part about this is, Ada is telling the truth. This ONE time, it really isn’t her fault. It’s Duke’s.

But Morella won’t let her get a word in and I love how Flynn drew Ada’s face. It’s a different kind of fear than when Ada was groveling in front of Montresor or reeling from Prospero’s rejection. Here, she isn’t afraid of being abandoned by Morella; she’s afraid of losing Morella.

I know that difference might sound REALLY contrived to some people, but in this case, Ada has a way to keep Morella in her life that doesn’t involve debasing herself and believes that Morella will listen to her. For the first time ever, Ada thinks she has a little control over the situation together with a friend, not an enemy. They can talk things out, and that really shows how close her connection with Morella is and how that connection can be the catalyst for Ada to start developing some self-respect.

Except Morella totally shuts her down.

Of course, I’m disappointed that there’s this “divorce arc” but it makes sense in context and it’s healthier for Morella to make a clean break from the posh crew (even though Ada clearly needs her wife more than ever, like come on, don’t leave her in Monstresor’s clutches!)

Speaking of which, I’m much more disappointed with how Ada immediately crawls back to Montresor and Annabel after being chastised. If there’s one thing I have on my season two checklist, it’s Ada learning to have some confidence in herself (and maybe tossing Montresor to the Hunt).

And I really want an apology from Morella and Duke to Ada. Now THAT’S delusional, and I might be the only one who thinks Ada deserves those apologies, because let’s face it, Ada is a wreck, but it would be nice, especially if she gives out the several dozen apologies she owes the misfit crew too, so that she can hang with them and spend more time with her wife Morella.

Anyway, yeah.

I really like Nevermore.

And I really like Ada. I think she’s severely underrated.

Of course I love Lenore and Annabel, and Morella is a precious and badass cinnamon roll, and Duke is so SO cool, and Pluto is cute as hell, and Eulalie is basically manga-Orihime (which is amazing), but there’s something so HUMAN about Ada.

I empathize with her in ways that I just can’t with the rest of the cast because… they’re just too awesome. I have difficulty believing Lenore or Annabel will ever feel something as fundamentally devastating as Ada has. At their core, they’re just stronger people. Ada is someone who needs more support and it’s nice to see those weaker characters treated with the same amount of care as a protagonist who we typically see stumble a lot but ultimately succeed. With side characters, there’s a genuine chance that they fail permanently and that adds so much to Ada’s stakes.

And honestly? I’ll say it. I think a lot of the students had alright lives or even good lives, they just happened to be cut short traumatically. Exceptions for Lenore (obviously) and Pluto (baby, you deserved so much better than your deadbeat dad), possibly Eulalie for having to live through WWII, but you’re not going to tell me that Montresor didn’t have a good run being awful, Duke didn’t have a successful performance career, and Prospero wasn’t a wealthy bastard. But who knows? We haven’t delved too much into the others’ backstories, so I could be very wrong.

Anyway, I guess this was just a very long-winded way of me saying I love Ada because I’m a total girl-failure and also I’m super excited for season two.

[ohcorny]

Mr Taylor can you share your hb Playlist links please

thank you for asking ❤️ yes

DO NOT click through and listen to these if you have not read the book. these playlists are meant to convey the characters' full arcs throughout the story and could spoil the experience of it. yes, you can in fact be spoiled by a vibe. and also the album art. the album art is very spoilers.

We Could Have Been Happy Anywhere

“Red Hook Stoop” by Tin Hat Trio “the first step” by jung jaeil “Searching” by Miguel d’Oliveira “Rich (feat. Andrea Vargas)” by Cosmo Sheldrake “Dirty Imbecile” by The Happy Fits “Foolishly Wrong” by Autoheart “Evelyn Evelyn” by Evelyn Evelyn “Done For The Night” by Theodore Shapiro (from Severance) “Shango” by The Stargazer’s Assistant “As The World Falls Down” by David Bowie (from Labyrinth) “Never Love an Anchor” by The Crane Wives “Fortuna Impromptu” by Chelsea Norman “La Revacholiere” by Sea Power (from Disco Elysium) “Lover // I’m Waiting” by Kriti B. “Last Train Home” by Pat Metheny Group

You Won't Get That Anywhere Else

“Fisherman’s Friend” by Útidúr “Hip To Be Square” by Huey Lewis & The News “Birdhouse in Your Soul” by They Might Be Giants “Come Sail Away” by Styx “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by The Beach Boys “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” by Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox, Sara Niemietz “Sh-Boom” by The Chords “Love Me” by Dudley Moore, Dudley Moore Trio (from Bedazzled) “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads “Mi Capitán” by Kiltro “Stalker’s Tango” by Autoheart “Blood and Sword” by jung jaeil (from Parasite) “The Longest Night” by Tin Hat Trio “Hearts A Mess” by Gotye “Beneath the Brine” by The Family Crest

I'm Not A Dog

“Main Title” by Dudley Moore Trio (from Bedazzled) “A Good Song Never Dies” by Saint Motel “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse “Rats” by Daniel Kahn & The Painted Bird “The Man Who Sold the World (2015 Remaster)” by David Bowie “A Street That Rhymes at 6am” by Norma Tanega “Is It Poison, Nanny?” by Hans Zimmer (from Sherlock Holmes) “Macguffin” by Atticus Ross, Leopold Ross & Claudia Sarne “Goodbye Sun” by I Monster “I Am a Rock” by Simon & Garfunkel “Creep” by Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox, Haley Reinhart “Vampire on My Fridge” by Low Roar “Want To Be Free” by Sea Power “Wrong Black Mare” by Brown Bird “Adore” by Savages

A Perfect Spiral of Consumption

“Capitalism (1988 Boingo Alive Version)” by Oingo Boingo “Smiling Faces Sometimes” by The Undisputed Truth “Sympathy For The Devil” by The Rolling Stones “Puttin’ On The Ritz” by Bing Crosby “Toxic Love” by Tim Curry (from FernGully) “Soup is Good Food” by Dead Kennedys “Gallows Pole” by Led Zeppelin “Parasites” by Daniel Kahn & The Painted Bird “Paint It Black” by London Symphony Orchestra “Volk” by Thom Yorke “Waltz to the Death” by Danny Elfman (from Batman) “Sighs” by Goblin (from Suspiria) “Note To Self” by Theodore Shapiro (from Severance) “Empire” by David Byrne “The Hell Of It” by Paul Williams (from Phantom of the Paradise)

[artemis-melody]

welcome to my girlblog!

MEN DNI

(I am a minor)

about me!

౨ৎ hi! my names ell but you can call me artemis too ^^ (she's such an icon)

౨ৎ i love making friends on here you guys are so cool so just dm me or send me an ask!! also i love spam liking peoples blogs so dont mind me

౨ৎ raging feminist and probably bi (still figuring it out tbh)

౨ৎ not religious but i support everyone's beliefs <3

౨ৎ sewing, crocheting, reading, painting, sketching, biology, tennis, writing, baking, debate team, egalitarianism, poetry, yapping, decorating my room, girlblogging, scrolling on pinterest n blr

DNI if - TCC shooter romanticizer (sybau genuinely), men, bigots, porn blogs, ed and sh blogs

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

currently on my bookshelf

robin hood alice in wonderland

great expectations jekyll and hyde

the portrait of a lady mansfield park

listening to

hard times - paramore

so damn dangerous -dea matrona

the other woman - lana del rey

babydoll - dominic fike

we are the people - empire of the sun

fable - gigi perez

labour - paris paloma

watching rn

the office friends gilmore girls

girl interrupted pride and prejudice

dead poet's society gone girl

(open to reccs!)

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆

my moots 🪽

@laced-ultraviolence @watercolovreyes @hauntedhorrormaven117 @prettiestgirlinthemorgu3 @luvleyangeldust @adraksgirlblog @dariasonlinedairy @chae-3l @prisbliss @mysummerchild @nanamoonnight @brunnetteangell

@dollfacediary @strawberrywhoree @is-the-labyrinth-living-or-dying @issyyhearts @spiritually-a-deer @jellybeanshotshit @lizzyhoziersverson @coquettewhore420 @cherries-in-wine @sincerelyourangel

@roselynquartz @ang3xxx @oakleysneilcaesersalad @uhalexa @urbeautifulandiminsane @rawrissh @xlcovo @avalogginout @compositionselene @bunny016 @messy4nge1 @amrplastique @lanadelrey-lvr @im-on-crack-send-help @irl4ng3l

@evcrmoreee @na9mi3

[choicesbookclub]

✨The Crown and the Flame✨

Welcome to The Crown and the Flame Book One Book Club!

This Book Club is open to ANYONE and EVERYONE. You can participate as much or as little as you want. We will play a new chapter every Saturday, beginning April 12. However, late entries are more than welcome if you are unable to play on time.

[Learn more about how to participate here]

Reading Schedule:

Saturdays, beginning April 12 (polls will be posted around noon, EST)

Each week, I'll try to include questions, polls, or prompts to inspire some discussion. Feel free to send suggestions if you have something you want to see!

Weekly Prompts:

(links will be added when the prompts are posted)

Chapter 1: The Broken Alliance

Chapter 2: The Ruins of Rajkur

Chapter 3: The Ambush

Chapter 4: The Mercenaries

Chapter 5: The Challenge

Chapter 6: The Duel

Chapter 7: The Gilded City

Chapter 8: The Gilded Cage + Chapter 9: The Escape

Chapter 10: The Battle for Aurelia + Chapter 11: The Technocrats

Chapter 12: The Labyrinth + Chapter 13: The Mechataur

Chapter 14: The Foundry + Chapter 15: The Return to Stormholt

Chapter 16: The Cannon + Chapter 17: The Return of the Queen + Chapter 18: The Queen of Stormholt

Participation

You can post screenshots, reactions, dialogue, sh*tposts, memes, fanfiction, drabbles, moodboards, edits, drawings, sketches, poems, songs...anything that inspires you or that you want to share during the playthrough.

Please tag @choicesbookclub and use the tags "choices book club" or "cbc tcatf"

If your post isn't shared within 48 hours, please send me a link to @lovealexhunt.

[la-horrorosa]

AAI2 Manosouta x SH2 AU

I made a super self-indulgent Manosouta AU because they're extremely perfect for it and I'll never be over SH.

Basically this AAI2/SH2 AU plays out months after the endgame, Simeon is just getting used to life in prison but he definitely isn’t making personal progress processing his guilt over what he did to Bronco

-Because the prison they’re in is going through renovations, prisoners are arranged to a temporal transfer to a different prison, and said prison is a pretty suspicious place with claims of being haunted, although nobody really cares, and nothing noteworthy happens for the first few days.

-Simeon is nervous, because he realizes he’s being observed by a young prison guard that bears a striking resemblance to Bronco. And then, slowly, he starts to notice weird things about the prison.

-He leans to Kanis for support, but the old man warns him about not letting his senses be fooled by what’s around him. He can sense that something about the prison is very odd.

-The mysterious prison guard decides to make small-talk with Simeon, and he introduces himself as Horacio, and even his voice is oddly familiar. Simeon tries to avoid him, but by that time, strange walls and new stairs and rooms begin to appears through the prison, making him get lost easily and making him get punished for ‘trying to sneak away’ from authorized zones.

(Content Warning: blood, minor gore, body horror.)

-The following day Kanis tells him that Helmut is scared, which is why he refuses to leave his cell. For days, Simeon tries to stay inside the prison cell with Kanis as much as possible, and for a while, things appear to stay relatively normal.

-However, during the nights, Simeon can almost swear that he hears a wet breathing near their cell’s door.

-One day, however, the guards tell Simeon that he’s got a phone call from outside prison, which he hesitantly goes to respond. The caller is Edgeworth, who is trying to confirm if he’s been transferred… but the phone call gets abruptly cut off by weird gurgling noises.

-When an unsettled Simeon leaves the phone behind to return to his cell, he finds the hall completely transformed and desolated. He gets lost again, but just when he thinks he finds someone other than him, he realizes that it’s not even a person.

-Simeon finds himself running around a labyrinth where monsters that look like monkeys are hunting him for sport. Just when he’s about to get slashed down, however, he is saved at the last minute by Horacio, the prison guard.

-Horacio seems oddly calm, but he himself acknowledges that while prison has been weird for a while, this was the first time he’s seen monsters. Reluctantly, Simeon decides to tag along with Horacio for a way out. When talking to Horacio to fill in the silence, he begins to realize that personality-wise, he’s very different from Bronco.

-At first, Simeon is hesitant to depend on Horacio, finding his earnest nature a bit fake and jarring, but the longer they stay together, the more it unsettles him how much this Horacio wants to put himself in harm’s way just to keep Simeon safe.

-They manage to find a prison wing where the supernatural hasn’t touched the inmates, and when Simeon goes to find Kanis and Helmut, Horacio has already gone his own separate way. Seemingly, the other prison guards and inmates have been completely unaware of the shifting architecture of the prison and the presence of monsters.

-Simeon attempts to explain what he’s been through, but all Kanis has to say is the same as before with other words. Kanis very sternly tells him that something that lives in this prison has taken hold of him, and only Simeon himself can pry himself out of it now. He gives him one of his bells as a charm before going to bed.

-The following day, Simeon wakes in his cell all alone. Not a single soul seems to be in the building.

-In his search for a way out, Simeon begins to encounter more monsters, increasingly impossible structures and turns in the prison… and surprisingly, Horacio. “So... I told the warden about the monsters, but they didn’t believe me.” “OF COURSE THEY WOULDN’T, YOU IDIOT!”

-In their new partnership, Simeon can’t stop thinking about how Horacio is increasingly less gentle, and the gap between him and Bronco seems to be closing.

-He reaches a point in which being near Horacio just makes Simeon physically him ill, which makes Horacio upset. Some of Bronco’s mannerisms are beginning to mesh into Horacio, sometimes for the worse. The longer it goes on, the more it messes with Simeon’s sanity and all the ugly feelings he has about Bronco.

-Horacio is beginning to say out loud things that he shouldn’t be able to know about Simeon, and in a quiet moment of realization, Horacio looks bothered and unsettled, because he knows he shouldn’t know.

-In a heated moment between them, a horse-head monster attacks them, wounding Horacio lethally… and Simeon finds himself uselessly watching him cry and babble as he bleeds out.

-Simeon spends a long time watching the corpse of Horacio, sometimes wondering if he’s not seeing Bronco’s body instead. When he finally has the energy to leave him behind, his sanity reaches its lowest point.

-Simeon gets lost again, but through the bell that Kanis gave him, he brute-forces himself to fight back the monsters he encounters in the labyrinth.

-… Until he finally enters a new room, with a familiar person behind a cell, waiting for him.

And... that's all what I got so far. You could say it follows the same beats SH2 does to a T, I'm not going to pretend it doesn't. But I need to put these characters in situations, so it's okay!

I probably will drawa few more things related to this, in case anybody cares!

[in-my-locket]

intro post :p

so like basically im simone and this is my blog !!

as of right now, im 14 (12/26), omnisexual with a male preference, and I go by she/they/him, but im comfortable with any

no DNI I’ll block u if I don’t like u

TW for possible SH discussions and slight gore

(SOME) of my fav oomfies are: @maureen-starr @cemetarybabyyy @whatthefuck1200 @st1nkfinger @flynnstarrzz @pinkertoast and MORE

@invertedrat is my BESTIE I love her SO MUCH love love love love LOVE this girl mwah

@dolly4stxr is my husband I love him sm

interests: PJSK, Fortnite, grow a garden, thrifting, reading, listening to music, collecting physical media, biking, urbex, etc. 

artists: Radiohead, static-x, Korn, KMFDM, type-o negative, ALICE IN CHAINS, oingo bingo, MSI, chemlab, NIN, London after midnight, deftones, HIM, stone temple pilots, Motley Crue, Lana del Rey, genitorturers, she wants revenge, Cocteau twins, etc. 

tv/books: the diary of Anne frank, disenchantment, the good place, the amazing world of gumball, yellowjackets, severance, big mouth, the dirt, labyrinth, the queen of the damned, easy A, thirteen, to the bone, saiki k, jjk, atla, tlok, death note, kevin spencer, the ettingville club, how i met your mother, etc. 

this is me chat

[crimescrimson]

The Labyrinth in Silent Hill 2 (2024)

[sitkowski]

time waits for me in bloom - nicholas ruffilo x cam (oc)

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x cam (OC) cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ gentle femdom, subby nicky, orgasm denial, chastity device (cock cage), praise kink, dirty talk, sexting (explicit pictures), oral sex (f receiving), handjobs, vaginal sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, they just love each other a lot word count: 4k author's note: here is the sequel to get me low (like a basement), aka this is nicky gets the cage. many thanks to illy for looking over this to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be, i owe you my life boo 💓 title comes from "blue reverie" by erra. divider by @saradika-graphics 🔐

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || read on ao3

Cam gets in late from the bar the second night Nicholas is gone on tour. It’s just her and the cats, and she’s glad for their company while he’s away. She showers the smell of spilled beer and smoke off of herself, and then puts on a pair of sweats and one of Nicholas’ shirts before crawling into bed. She grabs her phone to text him, just to let him know that she made it in from work safe and sound. They had talked before the show and Cam had been a little amused at the little edge in his voice. He’d said he was fine, he was handling everything okay.

It’s only been two days.

When her phone pings with a notification, she’s expecting a goodnight or something. They’re still in the same time zone right now and she knows he’s probably going to be either sleeping soon or bored while they travel. But when Cam opens the message thread, she sees that it’s a photo. And it’s not that she has any doubt whatsoever that he’s going to be wearing the cage like he told her would, but to see it like this is another thing entirely. It’s obvious that he’s locked himself in some gas station bathroom, where the lighting is terrible and there’s graffiti all over the stall door. All she can really see is his lower stomach, the little padlock that sits atop the cock cage, and a hint of the glittery silicone encasing him. Her mouth goes dry at the sight, and she has to think of what to say, what to do. Does she send him words of encouragement? Does she send him back a picture that will no doubt drive him a little crazy because he can’t do anything about it?

She makes a decision, shimmying out of her sweatpants so that she’s only in her underwear and Nicholas’ Labyrinth t-shirt. It takes her a minute to get comfortable and take the picture at the right angle. It’s not even that risque, not compared to what he just sent her, but she knows it’ll do the trick. Cam sends a second one right behind it, without the t-shirt, so that he can see the tiny gold key that goes to the lock on his cage where it hangs around her neck, sitting just above her breasts. This one, she attaches a message to.

Be good.

She doesn’t wait for a response, setting aside her phone and putting back on her clothes before picking up her book. And when nothing comes through her phone, she isn’t surprised either. Even with the silence, she knows that he’ll be good for her. She’s confident he’ll be able to handle the cage okay, and it’s not as if there’s any punishment if he can’t. Cam thinks he just wanted this challenge for himself, to see how deep into denial he could get with it. Of course there’s a part of her that likes the power having the key for the cage gives her.

It takes him four more days to crack, just a little. Cam wakes up in the middle of the night to her phone ringing. Her immediate thought is that something’s wrong, and she scrambles to answer. All she hears at first when she says his name is his choppy breathing, and panic swirls in her stomach.

“Nicky?”

“You gotta tell me, Camille,” he says, his voice strained. “You gotta tell me I can’t take it off.”

A little bit of relief settles in her, “Oh baby, are you hurting?”

She’s not sure where he is but he has to be alone if he’s calling her like this. She hears a thud, which is probably him knocking his head against a door. She pictures him locking himself away in the hotel room bathroom, trying to be quiet so as not to be overheard while he struggles to get control.

“You’re doing so well Nicky, I’m so proud of you,” she says because she knows that’s what he needs to hear and it’s the truth. “You’re going to wear that cage. Eight more days and then you’re going to come home and I’m going to take such good care of you.”

“I’m losing my mind a little, fuck. All I want to do is—”

“No, Nicholas, listen to me.” Cam makes her voice a little more stern and she hears his sharp intake of breath. “You tell me right now if you want to safeword out, and then you’ll go and wake Noah up and tell him you want your key. Is that what you want?”

The sound of the call changes and she can tell he’s put her on speaker. She hears the sound of water running and splashing, and then after a minute, he finally speaks again. “You know you’re the smart one in this relationship, right?”

She makes a face that he can’t see, filing that away to deal with once he’s home. “You said you could do this for me. But maybe I want you to do this for you, Nicky.”

“Eight more days,” he says. He still sounds shaky, but it’s kind of unavoidable. “I can do eight more days.”

“You can. And if you can’t, that’s okay too. But I think you’re gonna be just fine.”

He laughs, a little hysterical. “Ask me again in eight days.”

Cam chooses then to distract him and ask him about the tour, and it seems to work for a little while. It doesn’t really matter to her that it’s the middle of the night, she’s happy to talk to him as long as he needs her to. Eventually, neither of them can stop yawning and they say goodnight to one another.

The next few days seem to fly by and as far as she can tell, he’s handling it okay. There aren’t any more middle of the night phone calls where he’s begging to be let out, at least. She even asks Noah, without really asking him, how Nicholas is holding up. And while Noah’s got the second key, he’d only taken it under the explicit instructions that he was given no absolute details. He has to know what it’s for, but he’s perfectly capable of pretending to be deaf, dumb and blind about the situation unless Nicholas tells him his safeword. There’s doing a favor for a friend, like holding the spare key to his chastity cage, and then there’s talking about it.

Cam decides to meet up with the tour on the last day to surprise Nicholas. She books a hotel room for them for after the show because she’s got a feeling they’re not going to make it out of the state before Nicholas gets the cage off. It’s surprisingly easy for her to convince him she’s still at home, even when she all but sneaks off to the venue to pick up the pass that Bryan left for her. Everyone knows that she’s there, and she manages to avoid being spotted by Nicholas at all. He doesn’t even realize that she’s side stage.

It’s obvious how the cage is affecting him, she can see that much just from watching him out there. Nicholas’ playing might be fully controlled but the rest of his movements are frenzied and Cam stays out of his line of sight so as not to distract him. She watches as he paces between songs, and maybe she feels more than a tiny amount of joy at how worked up this has made him. Now, all she can think about is what’s going to happen when he realizes that she’s here. What’s going to happen when she gets him back to that hotel room? She can’t even imagine making him wait until they get home.

She moves even further out of the way as the show comes to an end. As the band comes off stage, they each see her as they go by and make their way back to the dressing room. Nicholas is last, and he doesn’t even realize she’s standing there at first, not until she calls out his name. Once he sees her, he passes his bass off to the first tech with free hands, and pulls Cam into his arms.

“You’re here!” he says, as if it’s not obvious. “I thought you were at home.”

He’s burning up like a furnace, but she still clings to him anyways, “I thought I’d come and surprise you. It’s day fourteen after all.”

His eyes go a little fuzzy and she sees the desperation in them. He’s got things that he has to do before she can fully steal him away for the rest of the night, and she gives him a guiding push towards the dressing room. She can feel how tense he is beneath her hands, but chooses to ignore it for now. The post show chaos is enough of a distraction for him, even though Cam can tell now that they’re closer together how twitchy he really is. 

“It’s gonna be a long drive home,” Nicholas says at one point.

“We’re not leaving just yet. I got a room for us for the night, I figured we’d just leave in the morning.”

It seems to click in his head that as soon as they leave the venue, he’s finally going to be getting out of his cage. He gives her a grateful look and rushes off to wrap things up, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. Cam watches him go in amusement, mindful of the key that’s still around her neck, tucked beneath her hoodie.

By the time that the stage has been broken down and the equipment has been loaded, Nicholas looks as if he’s going to have some sort of breakdown if he doesn’t get to leave soon. If anyone else has noticed how off he is, they’re being very polite about it. For all Cam knows, they either already know or they’re scared that Nicholas will tell them exactly what’s going on and traumatize them all. She can never be too sure in this group.

He all but drags her out of the venue as they leave, and he’s practically squirming in his seat on the cab ride to the hotel. She was lucky he even thought to grab his bags from the bus before they left. But all it takes is one hand firmly placed on his knee and Nicholas seems to settle right away, blowing out a breath and leaning his head back against the seat.

“Not much longer,” Cam promises, and he gives her a jerky nod. “Hey, look at me. Are you absolutely okay?”

He turns his head and meets her gaze. His eyes are still a little unfocused, but he gives her another nod. “I’m okay. It’s just been a long two weeks. You’ll take it off once we’re in the room?”

“I promise, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He’s a little more subdued once they get to the hotel, and once they get into the room, he sits his bags down with hers and turns around to look at her expectantly. Cam takes her time in pulling off her hoodie and taking off her shoes. His eyes immediately go to the key where it’s standing out against the front of her shirt, and she sees his hands twitch at his sides.

“Go ahead and take off your clothes for me?” she asks softly.

Nicholas hadn’t bothered to change out of his stage clothes before they left the venue, and he leaves everything in a messy pile on the floor. Cam knows the flush on his face and chest is still lingering post show endorphins, but she also knows he has one goal right now. Stepping closer to him, she undoes the clasp on the chain and takes the key off of it. She watches the way he shifts around almost nervously, and she presses up to kiss him on the forehead before turning her attention to the cage.

His breath hitches and he stifles a whine in the back of his throat as she unlocks the tiny padlock and eases the cage off of him. She doesn’t touch him any more than she needs to and when she raises her gaze to him, she can see tears of relief gathering in his eyes.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, it’ll make you feel better,” Cam catches his jaw in her hand, squeezing just a little. “But no touching.”

He looks as if he wants to argue, already half hard and moments away from full on pouting. It’s cute. But finally he grabs his shower stuff from one of his bags and disappears into the bathroom. Cam waits until she hears the water start before she finally moves from where she’s standing. Taking a deep breath, she goes through the normal motions that she does every night at home; makes sure both of their phones are plugged in, changes out of her clothes into one of Nicholas t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts that she probably won’t even be in that long. The check out time tomorrow isn’t until eleven in the morning, and she plans to use as much of that time as she can to their full advantage.

The shower cuts off and a few moments later Nicholas appears in the bathroom doorway, haphazardly drying off. She still thinks about that day in the hotel room in Wyoming when they got back together every time she sees him like this. She can’t help but walk over to him, taking the towel and scrubbing it through his hair for him. He’s still tense and she knows exactly what he needs.

“Come over here to the bed,” she says, pulling him along.

She crawls to the middle, leaning back against the pillows and Nicholas moves to follow her. She stops him before he can get close enough, gesturing for him to turn around so that his back is to her chest. He does it without complaint, though she’s sure he might be a little confused. Before he can ask, she leans in and presses a quick kiss to his cheek, before reaching over and picking up a bottle of lube off of the nightstand. She can feel it when his breath hitches in his chest.

“Camille—”

“Shhh,” she pours some lube into her hand and reaches down, wrapping her fingers around Nicholas’ cock. “Just let me take care of you first, okay? We’ve got all night.”

His only response to that is to arch up into her touch, a quiet moan falling from his mouth as she moves her fist in a slow stroke up. She pauses at the tip, giving him a gentle squeeze only to make him louder. Not wanting to rush this, she repeats the motion, enjoying every noise she drags out of him with each twist of her wrist. His hips rock up into her touch greedily, and Cam peppers kisses along his bare shoulder to urge him on.

“My needy boy, keep making those sounds for me,” she murmurs. Nicholas whines and squirms, one of his hands clamping down on her thigh. “You’re so hard for me, aren’t you? It doesn’t seem like you’re going to last that long. It’s been two weeks”

Cam doesn’t tell him he’s not allowed to come. It seems so cruel after he’s done so well while he was away. And she tells him so as she cards the fingers of her free hand through his hair, tugging just a little on the damp strands. She can tell that he’s trying not to come yet though, that he’s trying to drag this out even though she promised him she’d take care of him, and she speeds up her strokes. Each desperate sound he makes sinks into her skin and turns her on even more. But this isn’t about her right now, and she gives him all of the attention he deserves.

“Don’t hold back on my account, Nicky, just let go.” she urges.

He curses and knocks his head back against her shoulder, body going taught as he spills over her fingers and his stomach. She’d be surprised how messy it was if it hadn’t been so long for him. Eventually he’s got to wrap his hand around her wrist and pull her hand away, gasping for air. He grabs for the towel to clean them both off before flopping back against the bed.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, and Cam grins, leaning over to kiss him.

“Did you miss me, or did you miss orgasms?”

She’s fucking with him, because she can. He lets out an exasperated noise and gives her a playful shove, crawling over her. “Shut up, I’ll show you orgasms.”

“Oh, you're gonna get bossy on me now, Nicholas?” she asks. She loves the way he blushes at that.

“I don’t know,” he says with mock indifference. “You gonna lie back and let me take care of you now?”

She loves him like this too, and the answering kiss he gives her knocks her head back into the pillows and makes her stomach twist pleasantly. One of his hands comes up to cradle her jaw and she melts into the mattress when his other hand starts pulling at the waistband of her sleep shorts. Cam opens her mouth for him, lets him lick his way inside, and she reaches down to help get her shorts off. They get tangled around her ankles, but she manages to get them off and toss them aside. Nicholas’ hands move to get her out of her shirt, and then they’re skin to skin, finally.

“You didn’t answer my question, Cam,” he says as he drags his nose up her cheek. “Can I take care of you now?”

How the hell can she deny him when he asks her like that? “Of course you can, baby.”

He ducks his head down, kissing her neck tenderly, before he starts to move down her body. Cam would tease him about his oral fixation but honestly she wants his mouth on her as badly as he wants to put it there. Anywhere he wants. Rising up on her elbows, she watches as he drags that mouth over her stomach, across her hips. He grips the undersides of her legs, pushing them up until she hooks them over his shoulders like he wants. 

Cam sighs and sinks her fingers into his hair as he presses his mouth to her, a soft parody of a kiss that starts out slow but becoming more firm presses of his tongue as he tastes her, teasing over her clit. While she had no problem not teasing him tonight, he doesn't seem to have the same sentiment as he moves slowly in a deliberate way that says she hasn't been restricted from coming in fourteen days. A ridiculous sound escapes her lips and she scratches her nails over his scalp when he dips his tongue into her briefly before pulling back and licking upward again. When he lets go of one of her thighs long enough to slip one of his fingers inside of her, Cam shudders and her hips buck up.

She can feel his laughter against her, even when he never takes his tongue off her clit, but then he's adding in a second finger and causing her to squirm more. Her hips shift back and forth and he moves easily with her, letting her ride his face and yank his hair. She doesn't have to worry about hurting him, she knows he likes it. She was already on the edge to begin with, just from seeing him fall apart for her so easily earlier, but when he crooks his fingers up into that spot inside of her at the same time his lips close around her clit, she can't do anything but let herself fall back against the bed and let her orgasm wash over her.

Reaching down, she pulls him back up to her by the jaw and seals their lips together. She can feel him getting hard against her again and she reaches down to dig her nails into the flesh of his ass, just for him to twitch and grind into her. It doesn't matter to her that her entire body is still buzzing from her climax, she still needs him inside of her now.

Nicholas pulls back a little, “Turn over for me.”

He gives her the room she needs to roll over onto her stomach and she tries to stay still as he trails his lips up her back and shoulder. His hands are everywhere and she gasps as she feels him dragging his cock between her folds. When she tries to rock back and get him inside of her, he pulls back, laughing again.

“You’re gonna spend the drive home in that cage again Nicholas, I swear to god.”

“Promises promises,” he says with no small amount of glee at the idea that he has the upper hand here. “You’ve gotta have some patience, Camille. You said I could take care of you.”

She can’t exactly argue with his logic, Looking over her shoulder, she realizes that’s what he wanted. He wanted her eyes on him as he finally sinks fully inside of her. Her breath leaves her in a gasping rush, both of them freezing and reveling in the moment of being together like this again. Finally she gives in and she arches back into him. This time he lets her, his hands sliding up over the swell of her ass, tracing up her spine and sliding back down to grasp her hips. He pulls her back into each thrust and her mind starts to go fuzzy with overstimulation and the drag of his cock inside of her. Cam doesn’t think she needs to be touched to be able to come again, she thinks this is more than enough.

His forehead presses into the curve of her neck and she feels his teeth set into her skin. Her stomach clenches and she inhales sharply, mouth dropping open. It's just another sensation shooting through her body. One of her hands comes up to tangle in his hair, trying to keep him as close as possible. It’s in the back of her mind that every single hotel in the world has the most shitty insulation and they’re probably giving some poor soul an earful. Each lungful of air leaves her in a choking moan and every time Nicholas pulls back and starts mouthing at another section of skin she feels dizzy.

It's too much and she comes with a sob of his name. His hips piston into hers relentlessly, fucking her through her second orgasm as he chased his own. Cam can hear him whispering in her ear but his words are intelligible over the thudding of her heart in her chest. He finally comes, his fingers slotting between hers as he buries his face into her hair and goes still against her.

“Stay still for me,” he murmurs and Cam nods slowly. She doesn’t think she could move if he actually asked her to.

She hisses out a breath when he pulls out, long past embarrassed when she realizes she can feel his come dripping out of her. His touch skates over the back of her legs, and he nearly falls off of the bed to get another towel to clean her up with. She thinks about a shower, or taking advantage of the very big jacuzzi bathtub that this hotel room has, but it all requires moving. Sweat cools on her skin and eventually Nicholas lies back down beside her, pulling her over onto his chest.

“Thank you,” he says.

Cam’s eyebrows raise, “Are you thanking me for the sex, Nicky?”

He huffs out a breath, cheeks going a little pink. “I’m thanking you for believing that I could do what I did.”

“Oh, baby,” she reaches up to card her hands into his hair again, managing to lift herself up to press a kiss against his forehead. “I never doubted you for a second.”

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses

@thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp@kait16xo @wonh0z

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[shellys-bah]

for the transfem cookie run pack ask, any cookie?

we hope you enjoy our pack ! it was wonderfully fun to make !

SMC ALTER PACK

𐙚 -> names ⋮ jester. prince. umbra. omen. fox. harlequin. masque. masquerade. deceitelle. marius. lady. caroline. jestatelle. actress. omen. fae. phantomive. marionette. shadow. mortimer. azure. morticia. lunette.

𐙚 -> pronouns ⋮ she/her. it/it’s. shey/shem. shy/hyr. shi/hir. lie/liar. grin/grins. act/actress. pup/puppet. sh?/h?r. thing/things. beast/beasts. crumble/crumbles. mask/masked. mira/mirage. trick/treat. taint/tainted. tru/truth. dei/deceit. stae/stage. shad/shadow.

𐙚 -> orientation ⋮ tfemme. agender. femnulle. agirl. girlboy. bigender. gaybian. fpsexual. universefluid. gendershattered. g?rl. astrostarlic. shapeshiftic. cosmeldriem. labyrinthsongic [a term we’ve coined that lacks a flag, it’s a -songic gender related to the song labyrinth by cg5]. eclipsvamparos. shadowmilkcookiecharic. pourlajusticeic. fem-ish. girlvoid. shadowbeingic. noviaeus. omnisdoth. biolumien. wrongsomian. nightmarearchivistic.

𐙚 -> roles ⋮ persecutor. symptom holder. bpd symptom holder [if applicable]. npd symptom holder [if applicable]. prankster. puppetmaster. playmate. delight.

𐙚 -> age ⋮ ageless adult.

𐙚 -> source ⋮ cookie run kingdom.

𐙚 -> faceclaims ⋮

art 1 — art 2 — art 3

𐙚 -> front signs ⋮ spiked interest in puppetry. excessive laughter. mischievous behaviour. blue & yellow taste in fashion. spike in impulsive urges. unnecessary lying.

𐙚 -> front triggers ⋮

𐙚 -> sign offs ⋮ 👁️. 🧿🐇. ⭐️. 💫🐺. 📜.

𐙚 -> typing quirks ⋮ lie tends to type with excessive exclamation marks & in caps, even if it doesn’t directly mean yelling. thing also uses italics & bolded words to emphasize treats sentences. pup also uses “witches” in placement of “god” or “jesus”. “ I JUST CAN’T WITH THEM!! Witches, they’re annoying..!!!! ”

— And that’s a wrap ! We adored making this pack, though I wish we thought to make it of gcc sooner… Perhaps another time ! 01011

[lowlylux]

Silver Spoons (And Butterknives)

Chapter One | Fear of Water

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4k

Ship: Jegulily/Wolfstar

Description:

For a moment he wishes Sirius was there.

He closes his eyes, allowing him to accept it even as his lungs scream for him to continue fighting. He hurts…so much. It is overtaking him, drowning out the voices that continue to berate his mind. But he still cannot bring himself to fight back. His mind goes fuzzy, his consciousness beginning to lessen its hold on his body.

Yet, for a moment, he swears the pressure of the water leaves him. He swears that he is gasping for air and actually obtaining it. And, the thing that makes him fully realize that this is his mind’s last attempt to give him peace, is the mirage of his brother staring down at him, eyes widened in shock.

And just like that, Regulus finally loses consciousness.

Or…

A simple loophole ensures the survival of Regulus Black, and he is about to make it everyone’s problem.

Ao3 Link

In the labyrinth of choices, one's fate is spun, Each decision, a weight, under the sun, Sinking deeper, lost in the tide's cruel spin, Drowning in the consequences of where one's been.

✧˚ · .

Regulus Black never thought of himself as one to stay locked up in his room day in and day out. He had assumed that the Dark Lord would call upon him once he ended his schooling at Hogwarts, yet it has not happened. He stares at his arm, the ink that permanently marks it as black as the day he received it. It was truly the best day of his parents’ life.

He does not regret his choices in that regard. He was already trapped, the threat of his loved ones being harmed was too great. Perhaps he will in due time when inevitably the world continues to turn and Regulus is forced into society. Having the mark of the Dark Lord could hurt his chance at a normal life. But his life has yet to ever truly be normal so he does not ponder about it much anymore. There just isn’t anything left to ponder about.

The moment he stood in front of the fireplace, his brother bidding him farewell before leaving forever, any choice was stolen from him. At that moment, it ensured that he would never have a normal life in exchange for his brother to have a chance. It was a much-needed sacrifice, and Regulus does not regret it one bit.

Honestly, he was rather insulted that the first summons he received after a month of absolute silence was a request to borrow his house-elf, Kreacher.

And then he was left alone.

His parents are still in the home, of course, lurking in shadows as they await for their son to emerge. It must be such a boring life, only living to see the family line continue. Perhaps that is why they are so cruel, the reality of their cheerless never-ending existence hitting them the moment the first heir muttered his earliest utterance.

He rests his head on the window of his bedroom, refusing to even face the outside world. The four walls of his self-created prison suffocate him to no end, closing in as the shadows grow.

The Dark Lord took Kreacher early in the day, and the realization that the household does not function without their house-elf is dawning on him. He was taken early in the morning when the dew clung to the windows, yet as the sun began to set, he could not help but wonder what exactly the Dark Lord wanted with his house-elf.

He stands, finally looking out the window in concern. Regulus puts a hand to the glass, the warmth of the sun’s glow making him back away immediately. It has been too long, and now he is growing worried.

He waves his hand, the wards he crafted falling instantly so that he can finally emerge from his room. His mother is the first to greet him, smiling widely at him. “Regulus! Your father was looking for you earlier.”

“I don’t particularly care what illness he has suddenly come down with,” Regulus utters cruelly, looking down at his mother. “I fear the more he finds himself ill, the less Saint Mungo’s can do for him.”

His mother’s face contorts into a scowl as she stares at her son in shock. “Your father is not to be receiving care from those quacks any longer.”

“Why not?” He questions, stepping down a singular step. “They’re the best in the country for a reason.”

“They made a mudblood head healer.”

Oh, that would explain the sudden dislike for the hospital. He has yet to find interest in the Daily Prophet, not with him living through many of the events they explain. He almost wants to laugh at some points with how much they get wrong. Sometimes Regulus wonders if he should anonymously inform Miss Rita Skeeter that while he appreciates that she has just gotten hired, she best learns early on that people do not like lies told about them.

But then he remembers that in all technicalities he is a criminal and all thoughts of informing her are thrown out the window.

He shakes his head, careful with his words and actions. A tad bit of cruelty is expected, welcomed by his mother in fact. But too much and he will be labeled as ungrateful, which he would like to avoid. Too kind, and then he is punished for being too soft, something an heir should not be. “I fear I’ve grown hungry, has the house-elf returned?” He is even particular in his word choices, avoiding using Kreacher’s name.

“No, I’m afraid not,” she grumbles, simply bemoaning her lack of food. It’s almost appalling, her apparent lack of compassion for a being that has dedicated his entire life to making her happy, but Regulus should not be surprised.

“If he takes much longer, I’ll be sure to go and borrow one of Narcissa’s for the night,” Regulus says at once, not waiting for his mother’s response before locking himself back in his room. It is best to avoid her, unpredictability gives him a headache after all.

He stares at his arm with a blank expression, the skin still exposed to the light. With a sigh, the boy tugs his sleeve down, not wishing to gaze upon it any longer. It is simply not good for him to dwell on actions that he has no control over.

Regulus almost jumps out of his own skin when he hears the familiar pop associated with his house-elf. Well, it is the same noise as anyone apparating, but Kreacher is the only one able to get past the wards.

Kreacher does not look well.

The house-elf has water dripping from him, creating a puddle where he lays, his small body breathing heavily. Regulus finds himself rushing to the house-elf, careful not to touch him but concerned nonetheless.

But, it does not make sense. Why request his house-elf if the Dark Lord simply wanted to harm Kreacher? Regulus pauses, his hand flexing as he thinks of the last time he spoke to the wizard, his own words echoing in his mind.

“Why go after another town of muggles when we could easily strike down the Order?”

This was Regulus’ fault. He questioned the Dark Lord, and Kreacher paid the price for it. This was not a punishment, no, this was a warning. But it only makes Regulus want to question the easily offended man more.

If his empire is truly so frail that a barely of age wizard can topple down, was it truly worth building in the first place?

“Kreacher, what happened?” Regulus is careful when speaking, not wishing to alarm the house-elf even more.

“Master Regulus…” Kreacher whimpers, not looking at him. “Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to return after his task.”

Regulus stills, staring at the house-elf in shock. Is that truly the only reason why Kreacher is standing in front of him? Sometimes he forgets just how important orders are to house elves.

“What happened?” He repeats, his tone steady.

Kreacher does not respond.

“I order you to tell me exactly what happened,” Regulus says coldly, ignoring the house-elf’s state. He will be sure to conjure a quick drying spell after figuring out what is going on, but not before.

Kreacher whimpers again but nods. “The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave to hide something.”

“What was it?”

“A locket.”

How curious…Regulus does not know the context, but it sounds intriguing.

“Kreacher was forced to drink a horrible potion…and the Dark Lord left Kreacher. Kreacher made sure to return to the young master with much difficulty.”

“Is there anything else?” Regulus asks calmly, pretending he is not seething with rage over the fact that his house-elf was almost murdered.

“Kreacher did not like the locket…it was reeking with old dark magic. Made Kreacher uncomfortable.”

Regulus nods, awkwardly patting Kreacher’s head in an attempt to comfort the house-elf. It does very little, but it does make Regulus feel better about himself so he supposes it was not all for naught. “I need you to never tell my parents about this, understand? It is an order.”

“Kreacher would never dream of disobeying the young master’s orders.”

And with such devotion, Regulus cannot help but feel guilty that he ever gave the Dark Lord a chance to harm his house-elf.

✧˚ · .

Regulus Black never thought he would return to Hogwarts. On the last day of his sixth year, he attempted to take in the entire school and commit the small secrets to memory. But the task was far too large, and he never was able to. If he had more time, perhaps he could have. But his time was cut short the moment the Dark Lord rose to the power he currently holds and cut even shorter the moment Sirius decided to leave.

He always liked the halls of Hogwarts when the moon was high. It was a wonderful moment when he was named prefect, giving him ample opportunity to walk the halls undisturbed. The stars would protect him, staring down to ensure every night would bring him good fortune. Now it simply feels as if he is being mocked. They stare him down, practically laughing at the way his life has turned out. Perhaps they were always gleefully observing him from afar and he just never noticed.

Regulus pauses at a specific statue, staring at it intently. It stands tall, resembling a golden griffin, and while he knows that it is not alive, he feels the statue’s eyes judging him.

Regulus stares back with the same regard.

“I need to speak with Dumbledore.”

The statue does not move, as if daring Regulus to question its judgment. He scowls, finding himself annoyed with the gargoyle. The more he looks at it, the more ugly it appears. How ironic the gargoyle is golden, almost as if it’s required to show just how much Dumbledore adores his own house.

Regulus wonders if the old man was the one who painted it, he’s conceited enough to do so.

“It’s important,” Regulus says carefully. “It’s about the Dark Lord.”

The griffin moves, allowing Regulus access to the staircase at last. He supposes he should thank the gargoyle, but he just cannot bring himself to do so. It’s sapient, but not sentient, so he hopes the statue ignores his manners.

When he enters the office, he immediately scrunches up his nose for a moment before going back to his usual blank expression. Dumbledore’s office is far too…bright for Regulus’ liking. Perhaps it works for some people. Perhaps some people adore such a thing, but he does not.

As if expecting him, Albus Dumbledore sits in his office, sitting in a chair, overlooking the entrance. Regulus immediately finds himself pausing, staring at his old headmaster in shock, but he brushes it off, going back to his usual blank expression. Yet, Regulus still finds himself clearing his voice, readjusting his stance as he looks at the old man.

“Mr. Black, while I do insist that Hogwarts will continue to have its doors open to everyone, I must say I did not expect you at such an hour,” Dumbledore says cheerfully in a way that makes Regulus’ skin crawl. It is the same fake sincerity that assured him that his family would do the right thing, not allowing him to be marked as merely sixteen years of age.

But quite obviously, that never happened. Because that is all Dumbledore is, words and broken promises all bundled up in a mirage of a happy-looking old man.

Regulus sighs before slamming his notebook onto the century-old desk, the sound echoing throughout the overly crowded office of his former headmaster. “That is all of the notes I have of him.”

“Pardon?”

“The Dark Lord,” Regulus says as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Because truthfully it should have been. Dumbledore knows why he is here, or he would have never opened the passageway to his office. Unfortunately, it is a dance with the old man, one Regulus finds himself stumbling through in a feeble attempt to survive. “Everything you need is right there.”

“Everything I need? My dear boy, I’m confused,” Dumbledore says with clear amusement. Something is twinkling in his eye, a light that Regulus has to stop every cell in his body from squashing. The boy's hand twitches, his wand close enough that he would simply need to grab it. It would take one second, a singular spell, and Regulus would be regarded as a hero to all that matters to him.

But that reality became unobtainable the moment the Dark Lord hurt his house-elf. That moment was destroyed in the same way every positive connection he had was. And even if he wishes he could turn around and repair them, he knows that wish will never come to fruition. He is too far gone to be begging for help now, that much he is sure of.

Regulus feels his eye twitching next as he stares at the old wizard hailed to be the hero of the wizarding world. “For the last month, I have taken note of every small detail that the Dark Lord has given us. Every plan, everyone I believe to be a traitor, and every theory I have to his downfall.”

Dumbledore looks Regulus over for a moment, clicking his tongue as he observes the boy. “I am afraid I am in no need of your information Mr. Black, I do apologize.”

“He’s created Horcruxes. Multiple of them I believe.”

Now this gets Dumbledore’s attention, something Regulus knew would happen. For how much the man wishes to distract others with a peacock-like mirage of golden and crimson feathers, he knows exactly what kind of man lies beneath them.

“Do you have proof?”

“It’s in the notebook,” Regulus says, tapping on the book. “It’s there, all of it.”

“Thank you for the information Mr. Black,” Dumbledore says, nodding at him, “but I'm afraid I have already heard the whispers of Voldemort’s magical potential. I do not need the conspiracy theories of one from his inner circle at this time.”

“He disrespected the House of Black!” Regulus yells, slamming his hands onto the desk loudly as he stands. “That stupid half-blood took my house-elf to a cave and left him there to die!  My elf! Kreacher comes from a line of elves that have been with my family for centuries.”

“So the ramblings of an angry child then.”

“He has the upper hand if you lot do not have this information!” Regulus groans, grabbing his notebook. He runs a hand through his hair in a feeble attempt to calm himself that does not work. “Why aren't you accepting this?”

“At this time I have no need for it.”

“Your people will die if they do not have this!” Regulus retorts, his hand twitching once more, inching closer to the pocket that holds his wand. “Why aren't you helping?”

Dumbledore just leans into his hands, staring at Regulus with those annoying eyes that reveal more than the old man would like to admit. “I am.”

“You’re a fool,” Regulus scowls, holding his precious notebook as if the old man will suddenly change his mind and steal it from him. “You’re going to lose, Dumbledore. The Order of the Phoenix will fail, and it will be your actions that caused it.”

The boy turns away before the headmaster can say any more words to him. His steps are quick, his need to escape this hell far outweighing any logical reasoning to stay. And as he comes across the entrance of the school that was only his home for a few short years, he does not pause, merely walking on.

✧˚ · .

“Kreacher…” Regulus trails off, glancing at his house-elf with a semblance of pity. The elf is practically trembling, the constant boom of waves slapping against the earth overwhelming him. He jumps when Regulus speaks, staring up at him with those large eyes. “I have something to ask.”

“Of course Master Regulus,” Kreacher says, bowing with much difficulty. “Anything that the Master wishes, Kreacher will do everything to fulfill.”

Regulus kneels toward the house-elf, an action that would send his mother into a spiral. If his mother were to learn the truth of what exactly he is doing, Regulus is sure that even he would not be safe from her wrath. “In there, I will not be in the right mind.”

“Master Regulus?”

“In that cave, you are not to listen to a single order from me, am I clear?” Regulus says carefully, observing the house-elf. “It’s the only way, Kreacher.”

The house-elf stares at him, his eyes widening. Regulus swears that if he could look closer, Kreacher’s lip would be trembling. Which, if he is being honest, is refreshing. Kreacher is the cause of this, and if the house-elf held no care for him, it would feel as if all this were a waste.

Regulus finds himself tightening his fist right before the blade comes in contact with his skin. His blood sizzles, the magic understanding that the requirements have been met and allowing them access. They enter the cave, the immediate smell of mildew and decaying matter entering his nostrils and refusing to let him be. Regulus cannot help it, he scrunches up his nose in a feeble attempt to avoid inhaling such a scent. He knows how it looks, childish, which makes him curse at himself internally. He is the head of the House of Black, being childish has been out of the question for a long time.

He grabs a thick green chain, revealing a boat, covered in grime that would normally cause him to grimace, ensuring that it is seaworthy. Regulus decides not to comment on it, intentionally ignoring as much as he can to avoid regret forming. The wizard and house-elf climb into the boat, the adventure far from over.

It is odd, the water is calm yet causes Regulus to feel uneasy. When he lifts a lantern toward the water, he knows exactly why.

Inferi, creatures made from extreme dark magic, cover the sea floor, staring up at him. They are waiting, blank eyes knowing that there will be a moment of success. That eventually there will be white hands gripping onto Regulus’ skin, pulling him into the depths so that he will never see the light of day again. So that he will never see the stars again.

The boat hits the other end of the cave, the only noteworthy item being a basin. For some reason, this is the moment that gives Regulus pause. Even when Kreacher leaves the boat, Regulus remains, staring at the thing that the Dark Lord has attempted to keep so hidden.

Regulus swallows the excess saliva that has been pooling in his mouth as he finally stands, his feet meeting hard ground. His knees wobble, he knows they do. He knows exactly what this must look like;

Fear.

He takes one last glance at the inferi in the water, utterly aware of how they are closer, waiting with bated breath for their chance. He moves closer to the basin, observing the potion with a critical lens. Emerald potion, a dark green liquid known as the Drink of Despair looks back. He finds his hands trembling as he leans toward the potion.

He looks at Kreacher with glassy eyes, taking a shaky breath before he even thinks about speaking. “When I collapse, you must force me to drink it, understand?”

“Of course master Regulus.”

“And then replace the locket with the fake one.”

“Master Regulus…you have gone over this with Kreacher already.”

“Kreacher, listen to me,” Regulus mutters, closing his eyes as he fears his expression will show the pure amount of terror overtaking his body. He is far too young for this…he is only seventeen. How did he think that this would be easy? “When you get the locket…leave me here.”

“Master-”

“Leave me here and destroy it,” Regulus says, finally opening his eyes so he can stare at his house-elf intently. “That is an order Kreacher.”

The house-elf stares at him for a moment, slowly blinking as the words hit him. Meekly, Kreacher nods, his eyes never leaving Regulus. And if Regulus is being honest with himself, it makes him happy to see the creature’s reluctance. At least in the end, he has someone in his corner, worried for him. That is truly all he could ask for.

“Right well…” Regulus mutters, looking back at the potion, and grabbing the small crystal goblet so that he can begin. He brings the goblet to his lips, taking one last glance at Kreacher with a wry smile. “Good luck Kreacher.”

He downs the drink.

He scrunches up his eyes, flashes of regret overtaking him the moment the potion enters his system. But he continues on, filling the goblet once more and downing it. It is as if his brother is now standing in front of him, berating the way their lives have gone down different paths. Paths that perhaps Regulus regrets.

He downs another glass.

This time he cannot stop himself from sobbing, tears freely falling as the potion affects him greatly. The words of his mother, her encouragement as he went down a path that saw no way to turn around. There was no stopping when it came to the Dark Lord, merely going forward. Because once you are on the road, it is as if you will never be able to leave.

Another goblet-full portion of the potion enters his system.

It is as if every person he has wronged is coming to haunt him at this exact moment, whispering words he knows to be true. His existence is a sham, any semblance of self-perceived power only hesitantly given to him after others make their own choices. He drops the goblet, holding his head as more and more people overtake his very being, ensuring that every voice can say their piece.

He is vaguely aware of the fact that more of the potion is being forced into his system, the final words his brother had spoken to him being far more distracting. How did his life come to this? Why did he refuse his brother’s offer? He could have been…happy. Perhaps eventually the Dark Lord would have killed him as unfortunate incidents have been occurring far more, but he would have been happy.

He is gasping for breath now, ragged breaths overtaking his small, thin frame. He hates this, he hates all of this. But he must continue on. It is not atonement, as that would take much longer than a night, but it wrongs a right. If Dumbledore cannot help his people, at least Regulus can give them a chance. He can give his brother a chance.

He is gripping onto Kreacher now, the faint sight of glimmering gold peaking through his despair. Good, this is good. “Kreacher…you need to go.” His voice does not sound like his own, but he decides to ignore it. He hears them, the Inferi, finally realizing that they are not their master. “Go!”

His vision blackens again, the potion still affecting him in ways that he does not quite understand. He knew he had regrets, but this? This is far more than he thought. But he is aware of the icy-cold hands that grasp his ankle. He is aware of the rocks from the cave digging into his skin as he is dragged away. Water fills his lungs yet he cannot bring himself to scream. Weakly he reaches upwards, hoping for one moment that perhaps someone would be there to catch him and drag him out of his eternal resting place.

For a moment he wishes Sirius was there.

He closes his eyes, allowing him to accept it even as his lungs scream for him to continue fighting. He hurts…so much. It is overtaking him, drowning out the voices that continue to berate his mind. But he still cannot bring himself to fight back. His mind goes fuzzy, his consciousness beginning to lessen its hold on his body.

Yet, for a moment, he swears the pressure of the water leaves him. He swears that he is gasping for air and actually obtaining it. And, the thing that makes him fully realize that this is his mind’s last attempt to give him peace, is the mirage of his brother staring down at him, eyes widened in shock.

And just like that, Regulus finally loses consciousness.

02 >>

Masterlist

[satorudefender]

Jujutsu Kaisen characters as Taylor Swift Songs!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Yuji Itadori - Robin, The Tortured Poets Department

Nobara Kugisaki - Begin again, Red (TV)

Megumi Fushiguro - This is me trying, Folklore

The trio as a whole - It’s nice to have a friend, Lover

*ੈ���‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Satoru Gojo - The Albatross, The Tortured Poets Department

Suguru Geto - My tears ricochet, Folklore

Shoko Ieri - The archer, Lover

The trio as a whole - Sad Beautiful Tragic, Red (TV) & Bigger than the whole sky, Midnights

Stsg - loml, The tortured poets department & You’re losing me, Midnights

Shokos feelings AFTER the trio “split/Geto leaving” - You’re on your own kid, Midnights & New Year’s Day, Reputation

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Toji Fushiguro / Zen’in - The smallest man who ever lived, The tortured poets department

Miwa & Mechamaru - How did it end, The tortured poets department & Coney Island, Evermore

Rymonen Sukuna - Vigilante sh!t, Midnights & Who’s afraid of little old me?, The tortured poets department

Utahime Iorio - Mad woman, Folklore

Nanami Kento - Dress, Reputation (heh) & Look what you made me do, Reputation

Yuta Okkotsu - Happiness, Evermore

Maki Zen’in - Cowboy like me, Evermore

Maki & Yuta - Labyrinth, Midnights & Hits different, Midnights

I honestly do not have anything for Panda & Inumaki ….

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚