#[ FORCES MYSELF TO POST THIS and slithers away ]

[redstringraven]

an excruciatingly long ramble about the '03 turtles and the enneagram 🐢 pt1

i’ve been working on this ‘project’ on/off for a year, and i need to get it out of my system. this is me posting the first part to force myself to stop fidgeting and hit the ground running.

i love the enneagram. i think it’s a useful tool not only for self-growth but also for character-writing and understanding. since 'typing' the boys, i've referred back to this tool while writing them or rewatching the series, and it's infuriating how much sense certain things start to make. to me, anyway!

as a heads up? this is going to be a big analysis over a series of posts. i have a lot to say fldjsfkl (i'm so sorry). i will try to keep it organized and understandable.

consider this the introductory post! posts will be linked below as i finish them. [ raph ], [ leo ], [ don ], [ mikey ]

some small disclaimers before we get started:

this is concerning the 2k3 incarnations of the boys only, and seasons 1-4 are given the most weight. 

i don’t take “”birth order”” into consideration. no one--not even them--knows the order they were born/hatched in. i won’t be referring to leo as ‘the oldest child’ nor mikey as ‘the youngest’, etc. when it comes to ‘filling a role’, sure, they do that just fine, but i tend to avoid referring to them in an actual birth order or approaching them from a birth order mindset. they step into roles rather than there being an established order. the 03 boys will frequently ‘switch roles’ depending on their circumstances and company.

these are also, obviously, my own thoughts/observations, and i’m not any sort of professional. I’ve just done reading and research and thinking. whether you agree or not is up to you, i’m not your mom, go--do whatever you want, it’s fine it’s good, i don’t care, blah blah blah, etc.

OKAY. an introduction and briefing:

we’ll start with some ground-work since the enneagram seems to be unfamiliar territory to a lot of folks i’ve spoken to. feel free to skip over the next two paragraphs if you’re already in the know. i’m not going to spend too long on it, but i feel like i need to spend some time or everything else that follows might get muddy.

while there were a few books i read in preparation for this, it was careless and neglectful of me not to mention the two i referenced and heavily pulled from in the more enneagram-focused sections of this project (the parts where the enneagram itself is explained rather than how it applies to the turtles) to aid in creating a baseline. i went into this excited to analyze and discuss the turtles specifically, but i should have treated both the sources and my own posting with more respect. i apologize for that massive oversight. i feel pretty damn stupid since i usually consider myself good at that sort of thing, but i'll continue trying to do better! the two books i referred from were:

the wisdom of the enneagram by don richard riso & russ hudson

the road back to you by ian morgan cron & suzanne stabile

and i recommend them if you have any interest in exploring the enneagram further!

the enneagram is a tool used to develop self-knowledge, self-understanding, and to grow beyond self-defeating aspects of our personalities, as well as improve the relationships with those around us and to grow in compassion.

one of my books uses colors to illustrate how the nine enneagram types work: there are an infinite number of variations of the color ‘red’, but they are all still variations of the same hue. similarly, there are an infinite number of ways a person may express their enneagram type. another thing to keep in mind: your number is not determined by how you behave, moreso why you behave. It’s less reliant on traits and focuses more on the motivation that drives you.

i also feel it’d be a breach in etiquette if i didn't say the enneagram should be used to type yourself, not others. these are fictional characters; please don’t go trying to type the people around you. don’t use it to justify your own questionable behavior, and please don't feel the need to adopt a more rigid personality if you see yourself in a type. again: this is a tool, not a rule book.

if you want my opinions immediately, and without further exploration or analysis, here they are:

Raph is an 8 and has a 7 wing Leo is a 1 and has a 2 wing Don is a 5 and has a 4 wing Mikey is a 7 and has a 6 wing

but if you want more details (including what the heck a ‘wing’ is), come along with me while i do some giant ass posts on the boys and how they align with their core numbers.

i'm especially excited to talk about "City at War" from the perspectives of an 8 and a 1, how mikey is a complicated combination of a lotta moving parts and almost stupidly self-aware, as well as "Same as it Never Was" and don's 5 and the fact this boy never talks about his goddamn horrors. like i warned: these are gonna be quite lengthy, but i’ll be breaking it up as neatly and in the most digestible way possible. as well as keep the meme-ing to a minimum. …but i make no promises.

stay tuned. i have an order i'm going in, and raph's up first.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Ten

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: It was in the drafts and it's been a while so I thought I'd post. Might not hear from me for a bit though after this, so I hope you like the next part. Thank you for all the love on this one.

Masterlist

A warm bout of light filtered into the bedroom through a small gap in the curtains. It gave the space a sepia feel, tinting the light bedding and walls a warm hazel colour. Creating a haze of skittering beams above me.

It wasn't much, the room. It simply held the necessities I thought I needed seeing as I didn't spend too much of my time in it, other than when I needed to dress or sleep. I’ve really had too many other things occupying my time during the past few years that have kept me from worrying over the state of it.

There was a rickety old dresser, which sat in the far corner and had been something I'd picked up during my time at uni. Student accommodation had been lacking and so Finn had decided, quite early on I might add, that it would be in our best interest to find ourselves some cheap furniture to fill it with.

In truth, we’d actually had to lug the pesky thing all the way down a dual-carriageway and across a roundabout, after having spotted it advertised in the window of our local offy. It held a good few memories though, like when the pair of us had jumped up onto it at the first sight of an eight-legged pal, or the time I’d walked in to find him getting railed over its top.

Then there was the large mahogany wardrobe that had been purchased from a wholesaler not very long after I had finally gotten a newly born Teddy settled into the tiny flat I'd rented out in Hackney. 

It had been cramped, what with the bathroom having been the size of a broom cupboard and the only bedroom having led straight into our ‘fun-sized’ kitchen. But we'd made it work. In fact, it had practically been a Godsend during those nightly feeds- six steps and I’d been right by the cooker!

The wardrobe had been a much needed purchase though, and one of the first things I had bought solely for myself since I’d moved out of mam’s.

Then there was the side table, sat next to the one edge of my bed that hadn't been backed into a wall, which held a reading light, a three wicked candle and a couple of novels with folded and refolded receipts sticking out the sides as page markers.

I had garnered quite the collection of books, I could admit, all of which seemed to line up haphazardly on the opposite wall. I tended to smile whenever I caught sight of its heavy shelves, a reminder of all the havoc that had gone into them whilst putting them up. It had taken me three whole days, and even though they were still a tad lopsided, I still gazed upon them in pride.

A woeful plant burdened my windowsill, a slither of its olive coloured pot barely seen from behind the billowing beige curtains. Whilst cushions sat in disarray across the hardwood floor below, having been tossed every which way the night previous.

There were dirty clothes in the hamper by the half-opened door and a basket of clean, partially folded, washing in a chair sitting beside the wardrobe. 

The room wasn't completely tidy, but not a tip either.

Humming groggily to myself, I began to stir from the deep sleep I’d lost myself in and used the ball of my palm to rub tiredly at my eye just as a furrowed line creased between my brows. 

It was far too quiet, I deemed, and must've been later than usual too because Teddy normally had us both up long before the crack arse of dawn. So I sniffed once and then went to turn over, just to check the time as I always did, but couldn't stop the way I stilled completely at the sight that greeted me.

Because in bed, right beside me, laid another body. One hidden deep beneath the weighted duvet and my favoured blanket, but a body nonetheless. 

Shit.

It appeared in the remaining foggy haze of last night, I had quite simply forgotten about the man I'd invited back home. And into my bed, it seemed. As well as the ill-timed events that had led up to it, too. 

My breath hitched when the man suddenly moved in his sleep and I did my very fucking best not to express any of my thoughts or feelings outwardly. Desperate not to actually rouse the sleeper. 

Instead, I inhaled. Once, then twice. Before finally, I gathered enough courage and strength to slowly inch myself all the way down to the very end of the bed. Mindful not to drag the duvet down with me.

Once I was standing- still fully clothed, I might tack on (thank you to small miracles!)- I allowed myself a second to just peer down and admire the dark, curling locks that now sprawled across my pale pillowcase. As well as the slither of skin which poked out from beneath the bed sheets. 

In all honesty, I couldn't actually recall the last time I'd shared my space like this, so freely it almost felt effortless.

Quickly though, I blinked myself out of those sorts of thoughts and took another, much needed, deep breath. The flat was still as quiet as it had been a moment prior, but I was careful to tread incredibly lightly when I turned to grab the nearest set of clean clothes. Then, cautiously, I started to tiptoe my way out of the bedroom.

Standing in the hallway, with a wooden door now planted firmly between me and my overnight guest, I threw my head back in silent ire. Questioning just how, why! I had gotten myself into a situation this stress inducing, a situation I had not been in since my days at uni. I could only  just begin to imagine how this would all pan out once everyone was finally wide awake and Teddy had-

Oh God, Teddy!

It was painfully embarrassing to admit that I had just about worked myself into a right state before it finally hit me that Teddy was, in fact, still with Finn. At his flat, not even ten minutes away, and not down the hall, sleeping in the same space as a fucking strange bloke he’d never even set eyes on.

So with that anxiety riddled train of thought now settled, I found that I was ultimately calmer and took a deep breath before resolving to head off to the loo before anything else happened to occur. Or before I sent myself into another full blown panic attack.

I wandered down the rest of the hall into the bathroom and went about my business before stripping out of last night’s clothes. I couldn't stop myself from wincing at the laddered tights I’d since tugged off, those which would surely have to go straight in the bin, and then stepped into a pair of well-worn joggers as well as a newer jumper I’d found during the early summer sales.

It was a long and thoughtful process that had me deciding that I should start on a pot of tea, because if I couldn't sneak my way out of this entire affair via the front door, then tea would simply have to do. Us Brits, hey?

But first, I needed to find my phone.

The thing wasn't too hard to locate. I found it lying on the kitchen counter when I walked in, charging, and did my best to recall the events of the previous night as I puttered around to fill the kettle.

There had been the phone call.

Then Finn taking Teddy.

The tube ride to the bar.

Ronan... As well as everyone else.

And then, Matty had appeared out of nowhere and turned my entire sodding night on its head.

"Christ." I heard myself grumble under my breath, feeling as though I had aged an entire year in a single night.

The hangover I was now supposed to be nursing was teetering around the edges of my mind, a headache oncoming I reckoned seeing as though my shock had hit it clean off onto the verge upon waking up. But still, I found myself rubbing at my temples for a brief second before splaying my palms out on the cold counter in an attempt to calm my brewing emotions.

"Could tell you a few ways to reach him, but I don't reckon he's the sort to make house calls..."

I startled at the sound of the unexpected voice and snapped my head straight up to find Matty standing in the doorway to my kitchen. The man had apparently foregone trousers, choosing instead to make up for the lack of material on his bottom half with a pair of thick socks and an oversized jumper I knew had been draped across my dresser only moments earlier. 

I couldn't find it in himself to complain though, not that I would've. Matty looked far too indecent standing there, morning light illuminating his milky skin and shadowing his already dark, tousled hair, watching me through bleary eyes.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Is what I chose to reply with, heartbeat still a little erratic, pulsing in the curve of my throat. I reached a hand up to tug on an earring, the other arm moving to wrap its way around my torso.

Matty’s lip quirked upwards when he stepped further into the room, just as the kettle whistled away to a boil.

"You're alright." He waved off, and shook his head lightly as he made his way over to where two mugs had since been placed on the counter. Two mugs I’d put down without much thought as to whether or not he was sticking around long enough for a brew.

Still, I hadn’t needed to fret over it, seeing as I was forced to watch on as Matty brewed the tea himself; popping a tea bag into each cup and steeping them in hot water. He then cocked a questioning brow in my direction which startled me into motion.

"Sugar’s in the tin.” I told him softly, pointing in its direction, “You'll have to make do with skimmed milk though I'm afraid, got none of that oat shit."

Matty snorted in retort and crossed the floor to open the fridge, looking almost too at home in my austere, little kitchen. Especially when the jumper he wore rid high enough up his thighs to expose the edging of his tight, black boxers.

I looked away.

"Might be a bigshot, babe, but a decent cuppa means actual milk." Matty tutted, paying no mind to the homage of colourful drawings on my fridge door as it rattled shut, and then returned to his station to pour an ungodly amount of milk into one mug. He hovered the bottle over the other.

"Just a splash, please. No sugar." I told him quietly and he hummed in turn, stirring methodically before he fished the teabags out and into the bin.

I took my mug rather cautiously once Matty had picked up his own and taken perch on top of my countertop, feeling a bout of unease at seeing the singer so comfortable in my humble home. What must he think of it all?

I tried not to stress anymore than I already had and took a small sip instead, looking at the way the man opposite fiddled with the old school radio that resided on the closest shelf. It was something I'd brought along with me from back home, it had belonged to one of my grandfathers, I wasn't sure which, but it tended to soothe me whenever I cooked in the late evenings, or during the long nights when Teddy was up all hours. 

The warm tea soothed my dry throat and eased some of that tension I still had coiled in the line of my shoulders, enough so that I felt the need to start up another conversation just to fill the lingering silence.

My tongue darted out to wet my bottom lip and then I cleared my throat, cradling the hot mug in my hands.

"So, about last night..."

I was overall quite surprised to see the way Matty's entire mood immediately shifted upon hearing my opener. His lethargic demeanour- mostly down to having just woken up- stiffened entirely and sharpened his tired eyes and soft lips.

"Last night." Parroted Matty, voice low and tinged with a slight rasp that I hadn't paid much attention to a minute ago. It held power, though toneless. 

I paused, if only for a moment to weigh my next words. It was important that Matty understood that last night had been a bit of an overreaction on my part, that I’d misstepped whilst drunk, and not something other. I couldn’t deal with any of that right now, if ever. No one needed to know the extent of what had gone down.

"Ronan, he's... well, he's just always been a bit protective."

Matty stared back at me, his face utterly blank. Enough so that I actually startled slightly when he scoffed. It was a loud sound that echoed off the tiles, before his jaw set sternly and his narrowed eyes met my own. “Hang on, you're actually choosing to defend that dickhead?" 

I blinked in return, gaping in truth, at the realisation that I’d completely forgotten the fact that I'd explained much of what had happened, drunkenly, to Matty on the cab ride home. The same journey which had ended with not only Matty escorting me up to my front door but me also inviting him inside. 

Couldn’t he have just been a gentleman and declined? Left me to choke on my own sick and perhaps allow me to die with the little dignity I’d had left?

It wasn't anything like most would've probably imagined though, the whole me asking him up thing, that much I knew. My intentions hadn't been anywhere near illustrious and I certainly hadn't set out to lure the illusive singer into my bed. I’d merely wanted some company after all that had happened that night is all, scared to be alone with the guilt, even.

Which was honestly a first for me. It had always been so much easier for me to just deal with my many thoughts and complicated emotions alone, behind closed doors and far, far from judgement. 

It seemed that the alcohol had addled my mind slightly.

I couldn’t help the sigh I gave then, nor the way I curled up further into the wooden chair I’d since sat in.

"No, just-"

Matty scoffed again, this time cutting me off completely. "Well, it sounds as though you are, darling."

I went to argue but found I couldn't- not that Matty gave me much of an opportunity to though. No, the man simply stampeded on, didn’t he?

Were all rock stars this pigheaded?

"I mean, for fucks sake, Mouse! What were you thinking? I've met my fair share of arseholes but he was no doubt one of the biggest, toed right in line beside me when I was off my face, in truth. He was so fucking arrogant, controlling and- moody! My God, he was a downright moody prick, too. And those were just my thoughts before seeing the aftermath of what went down at the end of the night!” 

He shook his head vehemently.

"And protective, really Squeaks? I'm sorry to say this, babe, honest I am, but you might need a reality check, mate. He was downright possessive. Glaring at you the entire night only to try and stake his claim the second you were alone."

I gritted my teeth, unhappy with the way Matty had portrayed everything.

"He's a friend!" I tried to defend but Matty, who had since quietly settled his mug down in spite of his obvious anger, jumped off the counter and stepped forward.

"More like deranged!" He spat back, "I saw you! I was fucking there! I had to look into your eyes, see the blinding panic, the fear. Don't tell me that he's a friend, not when he caused a reaction like that. I mean, you can be intimidating when you want to be- all sweet like, subdued, and intelligent. You're all these fascinating things rolled up into one oversized jumper, and yet, you let someone like him walk all over you? Treat you like you're his property or something." He scoffed once more, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe the words he was having to spew.

I stared long and hard into his dark eyes before I couldn't stand to any longer, instead I turned away to blow out an unsteady breath.

Matty was right, I knew that much, alright? But it didn't mean I had to enjoy having to admit to that. Having someone else in on a secret I’d kept for so long, one I hadn't even realised I’d been keeping, not really. It all just felt like a little too much to be dealing with all at once and so early in the morning to boot. Because in actuality, I didn't want to face up to the fact that I had actually allowed someone to treat me that way. To know that other people had finally been a witness to it. Seen me that weak.

I had vowed long ago to never let another person put me in such a state of vulnerability. But here I was, a-fucking-gain.

I heard Matty sigh before socked feet dragged closer and I felt a gentle hand come to rest at the bow of my elbow. He sighed again, softer this time though, when I only continued to stare resolutely out of the kitchen window.

"I'm sorry for blowing my top, yeah? I just- it annoys me, to see you wash your hands of it so easily. As though you believed what he'd done was okay."

I swallowed thickly.

"You deserve better than that, okay?" Matty added.

I had to glance up at the ceiling to blink away the mist in my eyes, but did finally dip my head in silent acknowledgement, pulling away slightly so that I could take a moment to gather myself.

Matty didn't move when I crossed the kitchen floor to riffle through my cupboards, rooted to the ground almost, but he was spurred into action only a few seconds later.

I’d just placed a carton of eggs on the side and moved to turn on the hob when the old radio stuttered to a start. It let that silence I so hated fade away, and gave me the kick I needed to carry on.

"How'd you like your eggs?" I asked, and felt more than saw Matty’s relieved smile. He just had a way of taking up all the space in a room, as though he were its own gravitational pull and everyone else just had to be aware of his every cue. 

I hid my own, however tiny smile, as best I could.

"Fried. Got any bacon?"

And just like that, things evened out and our 'talk' was seemingly long forgotten. To be honest, I actually got so caught up in the normality of it all, the radio playing, the sidestepping, the easy smiles, that I completely forgot about the world around us. Everyone else that lived beyond these four walls.

It was just as we’d finished up eating and Matty had jumped up to grab our plates, that a familiar alert sounded. I glanced away and was reminded that life had in fact continued on without us.

I hurried over to where my phone was still sat on the side and worried at my lower lip when I saw the many notifications which lined the dimming screen. The newest was from Finn.

Messages now Finnleyyy Awake yet drunkard? Got a little man here ready to head home, well fed and only a little dirty!

It was instantaneous the way my gaze darted up to where Matty was now standing by the sink, only a tad surprised to find him making an attempt at the washing up. He must've felt my eyes on him though because he turned to flash me a grin over his right shoulder a second later. I tried my best to smile back, but the thought of Teddy meeting Matty, and of Matty meeting Teddy... just didn't sit quite well with me.

My thumbs flew their way across the screen to type up a speedy reply. 

Messages now Just woke up Sort of got a visitor? And before you start, no it wasn't like that, but I promise to tell you more when you get here Can you give me half hour??

It was only a little embarrassing, having to mention my overnight guest, especially whilst knowing it was the same man Finn had been blatantly teasing me about these past few weeks, but I really didn't want to have these two parts of my life crossover. Not right now.

With everything I understood about Matty and his past, I had to be certain that he was the kind of person I wanted my son to be around. The kind of person my son was safe to be around. And I was nowhere near sure where I currently was on that scale.

Matty was unreliable. His job had him everywhere and nowhere at once, up all hours of the day, and on a bus most months out of the year. That was something I really had to consider here. 

Because I really was just trying to be brutally honest with myself. No matter how genuine Matty might've seemed in his recent efforts, I also knew that he was bound to get bored of our dubious friendship sooner or later, and that Teddy tended to get rather attached quite quickly. And I wouldn't stand by and watch my son get hurt when Matty finally chose to walk away. It was tough, him only having so few people constantly around, I wished so greatly that I could give him the big family I’d always dreamed of, but new people always had me so weary.

I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief when Finn finally messaged back giving me the okay, as well as the expected hard time.

Messages now Finnleyyy Ah I'll be sure to rinse you of every detail, you lazy sod! And Teds will be fine, we'll stop off at the park on our way over

Matty popped up right beside me then, just as I exited my messages, and I was merely thankful that I'd managed to avoid him seeing anything that could have led to questions. In an attempt to both evade and act casual, I scrolled down further to see who else had texted. 

"Anything interesting?"

I blinked up at him, mouth now suddenly agape, then to my screen, then back up at him.

"Erm, you might want to see this." I told Matty as I all but threw my mobile into his hands. 

The Sun 07:34 HOTHEAD HEALY IS BACK AND MAKING HEADLINES WITH DARK HAIRED BEAUTY

MTV 08:02 MATTY HEALY SPOTTED AT LONDON BAR WITH NEW FLING!

The Mirror 08:11 A WILD NIGHT OUT ON THE TOWN FOR 1975 SINGER AND FRIENDS TURNS SOUR

In all the new texts I’d gotten Jamie had been the one to send the first few articles, but one seemingly spiralled into another, like a spider spinning its deceitful web.

Matty’s sudden bout of boisterous laughter startled me though, the sound so unexpected, and I shot a hasty look over to find an amused smile dancing on his lips whilst he shook his head.

"Erm," I attempted, but stopped there when I realised I didn't quite have the words, or rather no actual clue on what to say.

"Same old story." Matty told me, shrugging it off as though him being pictured simply standing next to Indra, the friend of a friend from last night, in a crowded bar was enough to warrant such a spectacle.

"But you barely said two words to her!" I retorted when Matty handed me back my phone, surprised by his utter nonchalance.

He only shrugged again! "All publicity's good publicity, and all that crap. Besides, I know the truth, the people who matter know the truth," He dipped his chin over at me then for some reason, "And so does she. They'll find something, or someone else, to hound soon enough."

"What, so it really doesn't bother you then? Being made out to be this person you're not."

"A slag, you mean?" Matty teased as a mischievous smile limned his lips. 

Tutting, I could only roll my eyes at him before I forced myself to my feet and wandered over to the sink. The bigshot singer made an abrupt noise of indignation when he realised that I really did intend to redo all of his hard work.

"Oi, I already did those!"

I couldn’t hide my smirk as I rinsed the plates off properly, honestly glad for the distraction. "And you did quite well, what with it being your first try."

Matty scowled halfheartedly, but I took note of the faint blush that flushed the back of his neck. Seemed like I wasn't too far off in my assumption.

"So, what did Jamie have to say about it all then?" Matty quipped, swiftly changing the subject.

I let him have it, not saying a word more on the topic before I went to dry my hands. "What I think you mean to ask is, why did he text me?"

"Well, yeah." Matty replied with another single shoulder shrug, "How did he even know that we were together?"

"Made a good guess?" I supplied simply when I found that I didn't really have the answer to that particular question. 

But privately, I reckoned that maybe Jamie hadn't realised that Matty and I had been together at all. I hadn't been photographed in any articles, from what I'd seen at least, and neither me nor Matty had had any contact with him until right now. 

Maybe Jamie had just wanted to let me in on what was happening, on the know, perhaps he'd wanted someone to rant or share his frustrations with. It wouldn't have been the first time. 

So I made a mental note to message him again later, when Matty was long gone and I had time to stew on all of this.

"Enough about him anyway, what are you up to today?" Matty asked me as he jumped backup into the counter. I consciously avoided looking at the way his thighs pressed against the granite, the tattoos that marked the length of his skin.

"Apart from bleaching your arse off of my countertops?" I snarked back and snorted when Matty merely wiggled his arse in retort, "I've got a couple of things to sort today."

"Work things?"

I hummed my general assent but avoided meeting Matty’s eye, not wanting to outright lie. I really did have plans though, plans to waste the day away with Teddy, grab a late lunch, and maybe head off to the cinema to watch that new superhero film he'd been yapping on about for the past two weeks. Only, I couldn't tell any of that to Matty.

"What about you?" I asked instead (always so polite!) as I went about the kitchen, clearing away what remained of our cooking session. I'd rather get the majority done now, than fret over it later.

"Not much." Matty mumbled as he ran a fingertip along the edge of a nearby cupboard, kicking his feet up when I swept past. "Avoid Jamie, dodge a couple calls, maybe meet up with some friends. Think Ross got the new FIFA, so might bug him for a bit."

I hummed around a small smile, returning the dry cutlery back to its rightful drawer, "That Danny guy?"

Matty flashed me a knowing smile. "Mayhaps."

"Mayhaps?" I mimicked, shooting him a questioning brow.

"It's a combination of words, Squeaks. Emphasises the meaning!"

I snorted. "I'm sure."

Matty chuckled quietly to himself before he finally pushed himself off of my kitchen side and back onto his feet. "Well, I'd best get out of your hair then. Leave you to do your important work and what not."

I faked a sigh of evident relief and dodged the swat he aimed at my arm, grinning as I rounded a table chair.

"Don't act like you won't miss my Godlike presence, darling." Matty looked down his nose at me mockingly as he made his way over to the doorway.

A belly laugh bubbled up out of me upon hearing that and Matty all but lit up at the sound. "Godlike? Wow, it's nice to know that fame really does get to some people’s heads."

Matty cut his eyes at me and with a mirthful smile, flipped me off. "Dick. I'm just gonna head up and get changed. That alright?"

I dipped my head, feigning wiping down the table before I glanced up to watch him walk away, finding my smile never faltering even after Matty had disappeared from sight.

It wasn't too long later when he popped back up again though, all dressed up in a pair of expensive boots and the tight trousers he'd been wearing last night. I didn’t miss the flash of my jumper that had been hidden somewhere behind the zip of his jacket though, but I didn’t say anything, pleased that he’d taken a liking to it. 

Looking at him, it didn't even seem as though he'd been out drinking all night, or that he'd just rolled out of the bed of some other. He looked rather lovely like this, still a tad bit sleepy- it was all in the crook of his smile, you see- and soft.

"Well, I'd best be off then." Matty announced from where he was now stood idling waiting in the hallway. 

I propped myself up against the bannister and found myself wearing an amused smile, drinking him in. "Best be."

He grinned back over at me and just when it felt as though he was about to reach out, he stuffed one hand into his jacket pocket and pointed at me with the other. "I'll text you later, yeah? So make sure to actually reply this time, all right?"

Rather dramatically, I blew out a large breath and crossed my arms over the ball that sat atop the bannister’s wooden beam. "Seems like a hard task..."

I laughed when Matty shot me a particularly nasty glare, but relented.

"I'll be waiting on your many messages, my dear." I corrected, doing my best to feign the doting wife sending her husband off to war, even going as far as to clutch at my jumper in a pained goodbye.

"You’d better." Matty smirked and when I took a step away from the staircase, he decided to take that as his leave.

Though it was just as he was halfway out the front door that he paused and turned back to chance a glance at me, ring clad fingers toying with the latch on the inside lock. 

"We might've dropped the subject but, just know, if I ever see that ginger prick near you again I will put my fist through his face hard enough that he'll be shitting out my rings." And with that Matty dipped his chin at me once and let the door swing shut behind him.

I wasn’t ashamed to say that I stood there in the silence that encompassed the house for a very long moment, before my lips finally quirked upwards and I let myself laugh. 

It seemed that everyone was right, Matty Healy truly did have a way with words. Only, the wrong kind.

[lagncx]

ugly?!

( hi…so you know I’m not a good writer please don’t go back and look if you're new but I came back and here I am with fruits for you people. I think you should know I’m not fully educated in the world of AOT. This is supposed to be post-war Levi so apologies if everything is wrong or something. The reader is kinda something I came up with a long time ago cause I’m such a creative person…it’s stupid but you're a titan shifter in a way however yours is a wolf form..please don’t ask it just fits in with your character in this but u are a female my readers tend to be confident and dorky especially when I do one for Levi. You're taller. And yea please enjoy)

You sighed and cut your hair in the bathroom of your shared room. It was late and you tried to keep it quiet for Levi so he could rest but your dumbass made the cup Levi kept for his daily pills fall “ah shit.” You put the cup back on the counter and your eyes saw that pale face in the mirror peaking in the doorway “your home late.” You heard Levi softly say his face emotionless, his good eye looked at you and you could see a little red. “Levi..have you been crying-“Before you could finish Levi’s eyes gazed upon you looking into your eyes that showed nothing but concern, his eyes glossy, that milky white eye shining like a Pearl. “Do you…think I’m ugly?” You almost thought he was joking but those eyes spoke millions of words in just one moment. “Of course not my love. Why would you ask such a thing?” Levi winced in pain, his body was sore “You pushed yourself hard at recovery therapy again?” Levi shook his head as he rubbed the back of his neck groaning his eyes closed tight. “No…I was observing the new one's training and I-…” he looked down “went to go workout to see if I could even stay fit and guess I just hurt myself in the middle of kickboxing.” You crossed your arms “Levi you can’t put pressure on your body! You still have a long way off-“ “Of what?!” He snapped his eyes snapped to you piercing you and making you close your mouth like a force “That ‘therapy’ makes me feel like a fucking vegetable I feel shitty always standing to the side trying to instruct inexperienced fighters to fight without fucking being able to show them how by doing it” he cursed as he grabbed his hair in his fist’s breathing heavy panicking and you felt your heart sting your poor baby you couldn’t even imagine how it must feel you gently but firmly grabbed both of his wrists “breathe baby…let go. It’s okay to be upset but don’t hurt yourself okay? Easy…” your voice was gentle barely a whisper Levi had these attacks a lot now you could only form that they came cause of his fears of not being able to live like normal people or do things but Levi was just naturally anxious his grip on his hair stayed but your fingers slithered their way on top of his hands from his wrists which from the cold of your hands made his grip loosen “come on baby.” Levi let go of his hair pulling away from you almost as if he was embarrassed. “Come on…let’s-…go to the mess hall kitchen. I know they're a cup of tea that’ll love to accompany your belly~” you said in a sweet tone. Levi stayed silent, his face was his resting bitch face and he just made way for you to leave the bathroom with “your hair.” You heard Levi say behind you his fingers reaching to graze the undone section “Oh-…hm who knows maybe I’ll leave it just trimmed on one side. Kinda sexy.” You chuckled as you stepped out the room door Levi was close behind but silence ‘Not even gonna make insults to my stupidity…that bad huh?’ You thought as you and Levi walked through the dark halls lit by the moon “About the…ugly thing why ask me about that?” You looked down as you walked, him to your side, his hands resting at his sides, making his steps almost hauntingly silent compared to your combat boots leaving your heavy impression on the wood panel floors. It was super crazy to you how you and Levi got together. You two were the opposite. “I…was eavesdropping on a conversation during training. So maybe I shouldn’t have taken it to heart knowing it was my bad and they were new so I-“ “Levi.” Your voice called out to him your arm holding open the door to the mess hall for him, Levi walked in “Thank you. But they-…”

——Earlier——

Levi sighed in relief as one of the recruits finally got the takedown almost flawlessly “Good. We can work more on your confidence later. Till then- Chores!” Levi yelled to the other groups some nodded and some groaned and complained and Levi just blew a laugh through his nose as he headed to the horse stables almost turning into the doors till he heard a familiar name…yours “I mean…she’s amazing and so strong. But…Levi, he’s the total opposite” Two girls were cleaning the pens for both Levi and your horse so he sees why the topic of conversation could turn to you two but Levi didn’t care much he could give two shits about what the gossip was in your relationship cause it was yours and not anybody else’s he was gonna step in to interrupt their conversation with a smart remark but then “I mean it's sad she has to wake up to that sight” Levi’s feet halted, his eyes went from an unbothered look to a look of terror ‘The hell?! The fuck do they mean’ Levi struggled in his head debating whether to confront or listen “I mean…those scars, his hand…or that eye…it’s almost like a dying cow” said the girl wiping her forehead “he’s hideous and just how can he satisfy her needs or we'll give her a family” Levi swallowed the spit hoping to push the lump in his throat he took a step back disappearing.

——now And I don't know…it's just been lingering in my mind.” The world was silent except for the piping and creaky wooden structures of the building. Levi looked up through his hair seeing you glare at the tea kettle, your jaw was clenched and your breathing uneven but not loud almost like you wanted blood. “ Y/n…they were girls just gossip I shouldn't get so worked up” Levi walked up to you, his hand sliding up your arm now you needed to be comforted…no, You needed to be calmed. “love?” he whispered now fully in front of you looking up at you his hand caressing your face you simply leaned into his hand sighing softly Levi jumped from the feeling of your hand caressing his back then his… other hands the one Levi was worried about when it came to you but you gently took it putting it on your chest giving Levi a look before bringing it up for a kiss it was a conversation without words the sound of your lips on his skin the sensation communicated Love. “I'm sorry they said those things. They'll regret it.” Levi sighed “No need to do that my love let us just head to bed after the tea is done” he pleaded hoping you'd come to your senses but your eyes were dark staring into nothing like you were looking through him.

Levi smiled as the tea soothed and warmed him. You made it exactly how he liked it…you remembered, holding it gently as you both made it up to your room that was until you stopped “What is it?” Levi could read you like a book feeling your suspicious aura as he looked in your direction hearing faint giggling and whispers “Shhh be quiet they might hear us sneaking a drink!” Levi's eyes went wide and looked at you as the two girls turned the corner “That's them..” You shared a look with him before putting on a smile and stepping forward purposefully loudly crossing your arms and making the girls jump “Hello new gals! It's inappropriate to be out this hour. Sure do hope you both have a good explanation” The girls straightened up “Y/N! Captain Levi! We were just uh-..” the girl trailed off and her friend who you knew as Ava stepped forward “Some night food we got hungry." Ava said as she smiled at you “Hm…I see. Be on your way” You stepped to the side pulling Levi along though he was ready to confront the girls, lecturing him there was something in your grip that told him quietly as they walked in front of you both your voice was a cold stern tone “Wait a second.” The girls jumped and stopped turning to face you. Levi looked at you and your eyes were closed “I'm hoping you know me and Levi are together don't you?” you asked, “Yes of course!” Said Ava with a smile “So you know he means a lot to me if not the whole world? Yes?” the girls nodded sharing glances you opened your eyes your face pushing intimidation and rage

“So how do you think I should handle those with the balls to ever? Disrespect him after he has done so much for us?”

Levi looked at the girls who looked at Levi in terror “S-sir. Were so-” you stepped in front of Levi “You did not. Answer my question, but I know how you both can make it up to Levi” you walked between the girls as you placed a hand on their shoulders and whispered “kneel.” They shook and hesitated only a moment and kneeled “Good, now Bow your heads and apologize” You sneered at the girls and they apologized to Levi. You looked up at him “Satisfied? Or do they need a bit more of a push?” You raised a brow to Levi who shook his head “Enough. Both of you return to your rooms. y/n…stop it.” You sighed standing straight pulling the girls up by their shirts and smiling “See you gals at breakfast bye bye!!” You laughed pushing them off as they hurried on their own back around the corner. You smiled at Levi who glared at you and scoffed, his voice insulting your “childish behavior.” He turned and headed up the stairs towards your shared room struggling slightly but didn’t accept your help and you pouted. Levi stopped catching his breath, you sighed pushing yourself up behind him, arms wrapping around his stomach “I’m sorry babe, It wasn’t my place.” You massaged his hip making him hiss but relax in some sort of relief “I’m upset that you had to defend me…when I’m a grown man.” Levi played with your fingers, sighing tiredly “I should’ve called them out…instead, I asked if you thought I was ugly when I knew you’d say no'' You inhaled Levi's scent “When we get up there can we…” Levi whispered and avoided finishing the sentence but “Oh my Levi don't tell me my touch has got you excited~” you giggled before feeling the stinging pain of levis nail pinching a vein in your hand which your laughs turned into screams “Asshole you know what I meant!” Levi snarled you whimpered looking at the bruise on your hand as you both continued up the stairs “for a vegetable you're still like you…cruel.” you rubbed your booboo “but I know what you meant…we can finish that book. But I don’t know why you like me reading it.” You shrugged and you both made it to the door “Your voice…soothes me.” Levi said looking at his hand on the knob “helps me sleep…you know how little I get. Even worse when I feel sore…” he opened the door and you both walked in “But if you don’t want to read to me…that’s okay.” He rubbed his shoulders it was always chilly in your guy's room. Seeing Levi’s clothes tighten around him as he held himself made your face hot “did you know you have a banging hot bod?” You said Levi turned to you and glared “The hell?! Can you stop being such a shitty-ass therapist!!” You laughed as Levi threw the book at you and you caught it. You looked at Levi who had a small smile. Levi was always conscious about you and him and space when he wanted you to touch him, where, how, why. But since being together he’s been more open not having to ask and right now you were so close “You’re so beautiful my Pearl…” you said looking down into Levi’s eyes your empty hand on his hips pulling him gently into you earning a rewarding sigh of approval from him “your not getting any tonight you know?” Levi said smiling at you “Awe dang well guess I’ll throw in the towel” you joked sharing a kiss with him “I love you” you said to him and he replied with an “Me too.” Which meant a lot Never have you seen a more beautiful painting of a man than the one in front of you

[fukanouna]

Disconnect

Warning: SMUT 18+ Only, Minors DNI !!!! (and some angst)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Wanda has a wet dream involving her and Natasha - but it wasn't her Natasha. The Darkhold calls out to her and she succumbs to the book's temptation, discovering the spell to Dreamwalk.

Words: 2580

A/N: I haven't written smut in over 2 years. I hope it's okay. Please enjoy :')

*Cross-posted on AO3

---

It was the first time Wanda ever had a dream that she felt with such visceral clarity.

She dreamt of herself grasping the sheets of a bed that wasn't hers, her body exposed and every inch of her skin on fire with arousal as the head of a familiar woman was settled between her legs, an experienced tongue having her writhing in pleasure. A sinful moan escaped her lips, and though Wanda knew the voice was hers, it also was not. Her attention was drawn back to the other woman, jade green eyes glittering knowingly that Wanda was close, pulling away with a smirk curled on her lips. The woman crawled back up to lock eyes with Wanda, and before Wanda could whine at the loss of contact, the woman plunged two fingers into her throbbing center and instantly pumped her fingers in and out of Wanda at an unforgiving pace.

"Look at me when you cum," she husked out the command and Wanda's legs involuntarily spread further apart, desperate for those fingers to drive into her even deeper.

"Natasha! Natasha!" she sobbed between whimpers, the pressure in her lower abdomen reaching its apex, yet she couldn't deny the other's request, forcing herself to stare right back into Natasha's eyes. She cried out her lover's name when she felt Natasha's thumb rub harsh circles to her clit, hands moving from the sheets to gripping Natasha's shoulders, blunt nails digging into soft skin as Wanda's back arched off the bed from reaching her climax.

Then suddenly, the dream was over.

Wanda's eyes snapped open.

She was back in her own bed.

Alone.

---

In her isolated cabin away from civilization, Wanda prepared herself a simple breakfast that consisted of an omelet, hash browns, and a black cup of coffee. Typically, she preferred tea but after last night, she needed something dark and bitter. Her brows knitted together, trying to ignore the ache between her legs and focus on eating her breakfast.

A sinister whisper slithered into Wanda's ears. She didn't need to get up from her seat to know that the Darkhold was speaking to her, the Book of the Damned set on top of a desk in the living room, wide open to the last page she left off of. But there was something different. It wasn't just trying to speak to Wanda, it was trying to teach her something.

Unable to take the book's incessant whispering any longer, Wanda pushed her chair back and walked into the living room where the book resided. The first thing she noticed was that the book was turned to a page that was different from before. She scanned the ancient text, fingers gliding over the pages.

Her eyes flared red.

The whispering grew louder into a malevolent hiss.

"Dreamwalking… The Multiverse…" Wanda murmured.

As Wanda continued to read more into this new spell, she failed to realize that the tips of her right thumb and index finger became tainted black.

---

As soon as the front door closed behind them, Natasha pressed Wanda against it and captured her mouth in a heated kiss, the latter instinctively moaning into her mouth. Her hands were busy undoing the buttons of Wanda's blouse while the brunette's hands wandered to unbutton her jeans.

"Someone's impatient," Natasha teased in between kisses as if she wasn't equally feeling the same.

"Do not blame me for wanting you when you've been away on a mission for a week," Wanda said hotly, nipping Natasha's lower lip playfully. "If this keeps up, I will have to talk to Margaret myself."

"Calling Peggy by her full first name? You really are upset." An amused hum vibrated past Natasha's lips as she pushed the blouse apart, revealing a lacy scarlet red bra beneath and licking her lips at the sight. She moved to leave a trail of wet, open-mouth kisses on Wanda's jawline, down to her collarbone, then gently sucked on skin between her breasts.

Wanda groaned as she tangled her fingers in Natasha's reddish brown locks. "Natasha, as eager as I am, you are not taking me right at the door."

"Well, you were the one who went straight to undoing my jeans," Natasha quipped but she did agree with the unspoken concern that it'd be best to move to somewhere more comfortable. Wanda cupped her cheeks and brought her back up into another kiss, sighing contently.

"I missed you," Wanda murmured.

"I missed you more," Natasha whispered before kissing her again.

Somehow, they successfully staggered together up the stairs amidst the flurry of lips, tongue, and tangled lips. The moment they entered their bedroom, they helped each other tear off every article of clothing from their bodies and were naked within seconds. Wanda gracefully fell backwards onto their queen-sized bed and flashed a sultry grin as Natasha crawled over on top of her, tilting her head upwards when the older woman lifted her chin with a single finger to kiss her at an angle, moaning against her lips when she felt Natasha tease and pinch her nipple.

The erotic sound of Wanda moaning her name never failed to make Natasha throb. Her mouth replaced her fingers on the pert nipple, alternating between suckling and lapping it with an intensity that had her lover whimpering for more. When Natasha switched to give attention to the neglected breast, Wanda gasped in a way that shocked her and she immediately lifted her head in concern.

"What's wrong? Was I too rough?" Natasha quickly asked, worry bubbling inside of her when Wanda sat up and her eyes were wide, not from arousal, but from something else that Natasha couldn't decipher.

Wanda was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if she was gasping for air, but after a minute, her breathing returned to normal. "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

Natasha deeply stared at her with a furrowed brow. "Are you okay to continue? I don't want you to ever feel pressured with me."

Wanda leaned forward and pressed her lips to the Russian's, her hands traveling up and down her sides. "I'm okay. I'm sorry for worrying you."

The simple touches to her skin was enough to ignite the heat between Natasha's legs once more, pressing her knee against Wanda's slick center which caused the brunette to whimper. Still, Natasha wanted to make sure. "If you want me to stop, tell me."

Wanda wrapped her arms around Natasha's neck. "Don’t… I need you." Then she fell back down onto her back, tugging Natasha down on top of her and kissing her hard.

Natasha didn't miss the way the tone of the other woman's voice shifted in a different direction compared to moments before, but then her attention was drawn back to the way Wanda's tongue tangled with her own and the way she grinded her slick center against Natasha's thigh, groaning from how hot she was for her.

Natasha wasted no time worshiping the beautiful, flawless expanse that was Wanda's body. Kissed-swollen lips, fingers that dug into soft mounds of flesh, and her tongue lapping at every drop of sweet nectar Wanda's pussy gave her.

But something was wrong; something was different.

Wanda's body was normally sensitive to Natasha's ministrations, but Natasha had never seen her this sensitive and responsive. Wanda gripped the sheets beneath her so tightly that her knuckles turned white and wondered if she'd draw blood from digging into her own palms. The younger woman would thrash about and throw her head back, seemingly overwhelmed from the pleasure she felt, and tightly squeezed her eyes shut, her whimpers almost sounding guttural.

Unease bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

Natasha had to confirm her suspicions.

Without warning, Natasha thrust two fingers into Wanda's sopping wet folds, causing the latter to cry out in pleasure, and Wanda shamelessly rocked her hips against her fingers. The sight alone made Natasha gush and throb, loving how easy it was to turn Wanda into a whining mess, but the other more rational part of her brain didn't miss the way the Sokovian continued to keep her eyes shut.

Natasha pressed small, firm circles against Wanda's clit and moved upwards so they were face level. "Are you close?" she asked huskily.

Wanda's hips jerked and a long moan tore from her throat. "Yes!" the younger woman sobbed, desperately clinging to Natasha's shoulders. Natasha responded by pumping her fingers more vigorously.

"Look at me when you cum," she commanded, the speed of her thrusts not faltering for even a second.

"I-I can't!" Wanda cried out with flushed cheeks and back arched off the bed.

"Yes, you can," Natasha insisted hotly, gazing down at her writhing lover, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling in her gut. She felt Wanda's inner wall tighten and convulse around her fingers every time she went knuckle deep. Wanda couldn't even respond, tears pricking the corner of her eyes, the pleasure overwhelming.

Natasha bit down on her lip, feeling her stomach drop; she got her answer.

Natasha pulled out her fingers and began rubbing Wanda's clit mercilessly, and Wanda squealed with her hips jerked into the air. Leaning down towards the Sokovian's ear, Natasha's voice is soft and affectionate. "It's okay… You can let go," she whispered.

A strained cry tore out from Wanda as she called out Natasha's name and reached her climax, her petite frame shuddering violently with each wave of her orgasm washed over her. Her hips twitched as Natasha slowed down her fingers to ease her through the small aftershocks. Wanda covered her eyes with her forearm, chest heaving from exhaustion.

"Wanda, look at me… Please?" She wasn't sure if the other woman would comply, but to her surprise, Wanda brought her arm down and back to her side, finally looking at Natasha with teary eyes.

Natasha quietly studied the woman beneath her, deeply searching those ocean-green eyes that were so familiar yet not, and struggled to get out the question that had been itching at her conscious for some time. "You're not my Wanda, are you?"

Tears slid down Wanda's cheeks, smiling sadly. "Even in this universe you're very perceptive, Natasha Romanoff. You are right. I am not your Wanda…"

---

After putting back on their clothes, Wanda followed Natasha back downstairs and into the kitchen. Wanda thanked her when the other woman made her a cup of herbal tea, but all Natasha did was give her a nod then turned to focus on preparing a cup of coffee for herself. The silence between them was heavy, almost tangible, and Wanda understood why all things considered, patiently giving the woman space.

Finally, Natasha spoke.

"If you're dreamwalking, then that means you possess the Darkhold," Natasha observed, watching her warily. It was strange to look at this woman across the kitchen island. The body was her Wanda yet the person inside was someone different. She felt so conflicted and confused.

Wanda nodded then took a careful sip of her hot tea, well aware of the distance that existed between them. She tried to ignore the pain it was making her feel. "Yes. It seems that you're knowledgeable of the Darkhold's capabilities."

"In this universe, Steven Strange was in possession of the Darkhold," Natasha began, eyes downcast as she took a couple of sips of here coffee before continuing. "He used the book to dreamwalk to his other selves in other universes to find a way to defeat Thanos, and while he proved to be successful, his actions caused the destruction of those universes he traveled to."

"You talk about Strange in past tense," Wanda noted softly and tilted her head. "What became of him?"

Natasha shrugged her shoulders, still averting her eyes from Wanda's. The coffee tasted bitter than usual. "He atoned for his actions with his life. The Illuminati made sure of that."

Wanda fell silent. She wasn't sure who or what the Illuminati was, but their presence must have an impact on this universe. Her eyes fell back on Natasha, the woman's visage still unreadable as ever. "You must be revolted by the fact I'm using the Darkhold."

"No, that's not it at all," Natasha responded, finally looking at Wanda in the eyes since the bedroom. Her brow furrowed, trying to formulate her thoughts and feelings into coherent sentences. "It's just… I don't understand. Why did you resort to using the book? It corrupts its user the longer the person is in possession of it. And why come to this universe to dreamwalk into my Wanda?" The spy stood in place as Wanda came close to cup her face in her hands. Even though Wanda was smiling, Natasha could clearly see the pained anguish swirling in her eyes.

"Because I lost you. I was jealous that this Wanda had her happy ending with you. I know that doesn't excuse my actions but..." Wanda quietly trailed off. She swallowed back the tears that were welling up in the back of her throat. It slowly occurred to her that this was the first time she's acknowledged her reality out loud. "In my universe, Thanos succeeded in obtaining all six Infinity Stones and snapped half the universe's population away. I was one of those who were snapped away. But my Natasha survived. Because Thanos destroyed the Stones after he accomplished his goal, Natasha and the remaining Avengers devised a plan to go back in time to collect the Stones from the past to reverse the Snap."

The tears grew hotter in her throat, but Wanda pressed on as this Natasha quietly listened. "Clint Barton went with Natasha to retrieve the Soul Stone, both unaware of the price that had to be paid in order to receive it." The tears finally fell and streamed down her cheeks. "The two of them fought each other as they both wanted to be the sacrifice… and Natasha won."

Natasha felt her heart tightened. Wanda's tears wouldn't stop but she went on.

"When I was brought back into existence, something died inside of me when I learned that the one person I desperately want to see was gone. I didn't get the chance to thank her for saving me." The last words came out in a defeated whisper. "I didn't even get the chance to tell her I loved her…"

Natasha held the younger woman close, letting Wanda quietly sob into her shoulder, her heart ached at the thought of what this Wanda went through and how she became so broken as a result.

"I'm sorry… I just… I wanted to see you again…" Wanda whispered.

"I understand," Natasha answered back just as quiet. "But I'm not her. I'm… not your Natasha."

Wanda held this Natasha tighter.

"I know… Just a little longer. Please."

Natasha couldn't say no. There was no way she could. If she could, she wished she could take away all of the other woman's pain and suffering.

Once Wanda calmed down, she pulled away from Natasha and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. "Thank you for allowing me to be selfish."

Natasha nodded slowly with pained eyes. "Of course. What will you do now?"

Wanda gave a rueful smile. "Say goodbye. I've taken away the person you love long enough."

Natasha hated how sad she looked but she knew she couldn't allow this Wanda to remain in her universe any longer, fearing an incursion could happen. "And the Darkhold?"

"I'll close it for good. I know it's what my Natasha would have wanted." Wanda gazed into her eyes. "Your Wanda… Please know that she loves you dearly. I can feel it. Never forget to cherish her."

"I won't," Natasha promised.

Wanda gave one last tearful smile then mouthed her farewell, her irises flared red for a brief moment before eyes fell to a close and the body went limp. Natasha rushed in to catch her lover's body before she hit the floor, cradling her in her arms. The former assassin held her breath in anticipation, exhaling in relief when eyes fluttered opened.

"N-Natasha…?" Wanda rasped lowly.

"Hey, baby," Natasha smiled as she pushed some stray strands of hair away from the other woman's face. "Are you okay?"

Wanda stared up at the ceiling, eyes distant. "I… I had a dream."

Natasha pressed her lips tightly together. "What did you dream about?"

Wanda blinked a few times, swallowing thickly. "I dreamt of another me. From another universe. I felt all of her pain, all of her sorrow… because she lost someone really important to her."

Natasha was trying not to cry and blinked back the tears threatening to fall. "Is that so?"

"Yeah..." Wanda nodded slowly and turned back to look up at the older woman before wrapping her arms around Natasha's neck and burying her face into the crook of her neck. "I hope she'll find happiness again. I want her to be happy."

Natasha pressed her lips to the Sokovian's forehead and held her lover tightly, her thoughts drifting to the other Wanda she wished she could save.

"Me too, Wanda. Me too..."

[aeirithgainsborough]

I haven't played the game but I've read spoilers for tlou2. Will the next season of tlou HBO even be worth it? I know Joel dies but are there any other characters that become lovable or is this Abby person at least a little likable? Asking you because I agree with all your takes on the show. Ty!

abby is a tumblr darling even tho she is a fascist and her section of the game is 12 hours of fetching things in a way that’s completely pointless to the plot, she barely shows remorse ever for her actions, she thinks ellie should b grateful to her she let her live after destroying her life, she’s the top soldier for her militia and is sad when she doesn’t have time to torture more ppl after she’s done with joel, she sleeps with her pregnant friends bf, doesn’t blink after slaughtering so many of the people in her militia she was loyal to the day before bcus of a kid who is meant to provide some sort of parallel to ellie/joel for her but is actually just rushed and can’t hit the same emotional beats whatsoever cus it’s been like… a day lmao… the narrative falls foul of telling us instead of showing us having abby say ‘you’re my people now’ which is hard 2 believe when a day previous she was making plans 2 destroy their home and loved 2 kill them. but she has muscles so a lot of ppl love her lol even tho she’s extremely bland, her gameplay is boring in the context of the plot and adds nothing to it (might have been more fun as its own game rather than coming after we’ve already played 12 hours and built up to a massive climax before suddenly being dropped back down to find ppl we know are dead and collect things… it’s a serious structural failure), and she’s barely remorseful and doesn’t really earn the redemption arc she’s given, especially not when the narrative tells us joel was too doomed to be redeemed when he’s been minding his business making guitars and wood whittling for five years in jackson and she at the end of 3 days with her when she’s meant to have evolved and realised violence is bad and her revenge didn’t achieve anything (except it does for her lol just not villain ellie!) and is meant 2 teach us all these lessons still just straight up murders ppl with glee, bonus points if they’re pregnant, beats the shit out of ellie without a slither of sympathy that she had ellie held down and heard her screaming and screaming for abby to stop hurting joel but carried on anyway even tho just finding her dad’s body is traumatising for her. ‘we let you live and you wasted it’ god i wanted to fucking shoot her myself cus she destroyed ellie’s life, took the person she loves the most brutally away in front of her, and it wasn’t a waste of abby’s life when she travelled 14 believable days across a dangerous post apocalyptic country for her revenge, and we are supposed to find empathy for her whilst she can’t find any of it for ellie lmao. the narrative props her up any chance it can whilst demonising joel and ellie, the characters we already love, trying to force you to like her in the most heavy handed and ham fisted way possible. oh she plays with dogs whilst ellie kills them!! good she’s still a torture loving fascist. but apparently she can be redeemed in 3 utterly unremorseful days and joel can go through the journey he does but is completely Hopeless and ellie is now the terrible villain of the tale. there’s a whole section that parallels the diner fight with david, this time positing ellie as the david villain to abby which is gross enough cus he was her tormenter and assaulter when she was 14, but also abby can kill who she likes and act like she likes and do torturing and murdering and the narrative never gives her this treatment or condemns her actions at all. anyway that’s a long way to say no she’s not likeable. yeah yeah the muscles, but again, she’s a fucking fascist.

honestly the other characters are fine, but they suffer in a plot in which the plot drives the characters rather than the characters driving the plot. they aren’t there for any other purpose than to move the plot and they can be a little bland for it. yeah dina is fine but she’s lumbered with this pregnancy plot so there can be some weird parallel to mel and largely doesn’t do much once you get to seattle and thus is very underdeveloped. jessie is also fine but underdeveloped too for the same reasons and he falls victim to neil ‘watch be me so diverse but poc are gonna die more than anyone else’ druckmann. all of them, new characters and old ones, continually make decisions that make you scratch your head and want to throw the controller away, again bcus plot > characters. it’s a poor way to tell a story. the characters should always drive the plot, never the other way around. it gets to the point when none of it justifies itself at all. but neil was so determined to tell his grimdark violent murderous hatred is as universal as love story that he was going to make it all fit no matter what and his characters and their motivations and characterisations fall to the wayside for it. it’s hard to find the ellie we fell in love with in part 1, let alone muster up enough energy to care about the side characters.

(as an aside neil is wrong about hatred being that universal and he thinks he’s right bcus he is a west bank settler and that alone should make you wary about season 2… the conflict in seattle is a mirror of the palestinian/israeli one and the narrative pushes on you this idea neil has that there are no wrong sides… but there is (half get to go home after a fight to a wealth of resources and land which they are trying to get more of and the other half has much less and can’t travel around the city unless they use secret bridges… idk if that sounds familiar to you) and you should all question why neil is pushing that. makes it even more hideous that he spent 25 hours propping up his wlf top soldier fascist and so many ppl lapped it up…)

maybe craig can fix some of these issues but im not holding out for it lol. some of the ways he’s talked about joel and ellie and the changes he made to the show are incredibly iffy. some of the ideas he has show he shouldn’t be allowed to talk about girls and their trauma ever again and he also thinks love can be as bad as it can be good which is such an ugly and stupid idea, especially when the whole point of part 1 is that love is what we have to hold onto when everything else is terrible. and no one come at me abt them being neil’s characters and his story cus BRUCE was there he co-created it and was the lead for the game lol.

anyway this got long im sorry no i don’t think it will be worth it.

[frrrcus]

Jotaro x F!reader smut

i despise the plot of this but i needed somethinf to post :( its very rushed im sorry

I felt nothing but lust as Jotaro talked with his loving wife, my thighs squeezing against one another as I stared at Jotaro with love, biting my lip.

Crossed legs, I struggled to keep composure as Jotaro spoke, his beloved wife staring at him. I knew it was wrong, so damn wrong to he staring at him with such lust. I gulped, exhaling deeply as i begun to pay attention to my surroundings.

He fixed his hat as his wife smiled tenderly at me, resting her elbow on the counter. I gave a nervous smile in return, guilt tripping in me.

I had always loved Jotaro, ever since that trip to Egypt. But his wife made it to him first.

I was snapped out of my trance as Mrs. Kujo sighed, smile fading away. I furrowed my brows, taking note on the mood suddenly saddening.

“Y/N, dear, we have something to discuss,” she signaled to her and Jotaro. “Between me and Jotaro.”

I grew nervous as her nervous tone hit me, fixing my posture. “What is it?”

“Me and Jotaro are getting a divorce.”

I couldve sworn my eyes popped out of my head, “What?!” I yelped, sitting up in shock. I felt so guilty as excitement grew in my body, yet was quickly shoved back down by sorrow.

I lowered my gaze. “I’m truly sorry, I do hope the best for you two.” I couldn’t say more, I didn't know what else to say.

Yet Jotaros sharp gaze made me even more nervous. Had I said something wrong?

Days later

I wrote my signature on the paper, suddenly exhaling in relief.

“Yay! Last paper for the day!” I chirped, falling back and sinking in the comfortable couch, closing my eyes.

I worked with Jotaro as a female marine biologist, since I had a soft spot for M/A. We usually worked til noon, if not later, which was exactly happening right now.

My eyes widened as rough hands grabbed my waist, pulling me towards a hard chest. I nearly broke my neck as I turned to Jotaro, face flushed and desperately trying to search his face for answers.

“Y/N.” Such a rich voice, making me gasp and press my thighs together. I gulped. “I-Is something the matter, Jojo?” He chuckled, worsening my state.

He suddenly grabbed my shirt, ripping it off. I yelped, what the hell was he doing?!

I widened my eyes in realization as my chest was out, bra in full sight for him. I flickered my eyes to him, eyebrows furrowed.

“Whats up with you?! Are you— hoLY-!” I was cut off as I felt my body suddenly being lifted in the air, purple hands holding me up protectively. I yelped as Star forced my legs open, Jotaro taking advantage and pressing his crotch against mine, a whimper escaping my lips.

“Jotaro?” I rasped out, trying to push back the urges growing within my body.

I accidentally moaned out as said man began to grind against me. I bit my lip to try and suppress my noises, my body heating up.

“You don’t know how bad I’ve wanted this…” he whispered, grabbing his hat and tossing it somewhere in the room.

His hands slithered from my hips to my breasts, suddenly ripping the bra from me.

I widened my eyes, my first instinct being to cover myself. He grabbed my hands, Star getting ahold of them so Jotaro could do what he wanted.

He suddenly backed away, my pants and underwear being snatched from my body. I squeaked at his abrupt acts, feeling more heated.

He harshly grabbed my face, leaning down to crash his lips against mine. I moaned in the kiss as his tongue hit the back of my throat.

I felt him rubbing my clit, making me shake all the more harder. He suddenly pulled away completely, a string of saliva connecting our panting mouths.

“Wh-Wha the hell are you doing..? Quit going so fast—“

He crouched down, his face now in front of my dripping womanhood. I froze.

I nearly cried out as he suddenly stuffed his face in my cunt, eating and slurping like it was his last meal.

I moaned as Star grabbed my tits and fondled with them, flickering and pulling on my nipples.

My vision went blurry as I felt the string in my abdomen tighten in rapid speeds, bringing me closer to my peak.

He suddenly pulled away, a small smile on his face. “Were not done yet, Y/N.”

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

Schism

Summary: Combat boots :)

Pairing: Kappa x gn!Reader

Word Count: < 1k

Content Warnings: Degradation/Humiliation, It's Not BDSM With Them It's Consensual Violence, Petplay-ish, Allusions To Smut 18+!, Spit, Blood

A/N: This thing was prompted by this delightful post here! @chainsawgvtsfvck

Tagging: @starry-eyed-wild-child @blueberrypancakesworld

... sadly not Artie 🥲

@angelsanarchy Ash! Remember the screen caps you made for me last year? 🤩

Pure intention juxtaposed

Will set two lovers' souls in motion

Disintegrating as it goes

Testing our communication

- Schism By Tool

“Down.” A simple, brief command cutting through the atmosphere like an angled razor blade.

And before the last letter had bounced off the walls you went down on all fours like the obedient little lap dog you were and Kappa watched you, the expression on his face unmoved but a certain flicker in his half-lidded eyes gave him away; the pride he felt for having trained you so well glazing over his retina.

You put your cheek to the unloving concrete floor, cold cement against flushed skin.

“Now that's what I call a good mutt.” Kappa snarled, front teeth grazing over a slightly chapped bottom lip, flakey skin getting caught and torn off as the faint, metallic taste of blood slithered over a prodding tongue.

You remained silent, well aware and knowing that he preferred it that way. Don't talk unless you are being demanded to.

He titled his head and a strand of stringy black curls fell into his face like a tantalizing pendulum, fixating all your attention on him, unbothered by how he stepped towards you, the thick soles of wrinkly, worn out combat boots clinking against the floor.

“You just know that I like to make myself comfortable, don't you pet?”, You nodded, gaze transfixed on his face to read every little whim or change of mood immediately, “Yeah, you do.”

Your eyes didn't flutter shut as he raised his right foot, shoelaces dangling along your mouth before he pressed down harsh enough for your jaw to crunch, bone holding on to the socket for dear life - a little more and it would probably just slip out. Yet, you didn't wince or howl out, no, you took what was given to you and you took with gratefulness and decorum.

Kappa leaned down, eyeing you properly for a few breaths, testing if you'd break and beg him to stop applying so much pressure to your pretty face, sniffling that you'd make it up to him, apologizing and insisting that you'd blow him until your jaw went slack from that instead but this time you didn't, even as he tilted his ankle until your lips dropped agape, flesh being squished between cement and the bendable vinyl rubber of his boots. Not a single sound to be heard from your mouth. He felt himself getting hard just by thinking about your whimpered apologetic pleas.

“I'm in a benevolent mood today, pet.” Kappa commented on himself as he reduced the force on your jaw swiftly after, however, still keeping his boot firmly plastered to your cheek.

His eyes narrowed down in a pretentious play of concentration, slender fingers reaching for the bootstraps before he began tying them in meticulous artistry, hole for hole, looping the cords through before tightening them up. Saliva started trickling from the corner of your mouth and pulling around your cheek in a damp, tacky puddle.

“Look at how well you do that for me, mutt.” He truly was in a giving mood today, so much so that he adorned your face with a quickly reddening imprint of his sole, ridge for ridge welting up from brow down to your chin.

A barely even there, merely articulated Thank You slithered past your lips in a moment of complete subspace bliss as he was to turn away from you.

“Huh?” Kappa bellowed more than spoke, eyes widening and brows arching in distrust.

You stared at him, hoping that he would let it slip but there was no letting it pass of you failing on the last crucial meters to the finish line.

“The fuck was that, mutt? I know ‘m not hearing voices.” Teeth teared across his bottom lip anew, agitated and gnashing, wanting to sink into something.

Instead, in a literal knee jerk reaction, his leg kicked forward, the steel cap of his combat boots drilling into your ribcage; blunt force trauma inevitable and you whined out as the dull pain spread into thinner, more agonizing roots.

Your whole body twitched and jolted together, arms flailing to grab at your knees and pull them to your chest in an attempt to shield you from further assault.

“I'm sorry, sir. Please.” You sniffled between a snotty nose and an tearing eyes, not the physical pain but the emotional despair from your own failure pulling the wash of moisture from your tear ducts.

“Please what, bastard? HUH?”, In an erratic gesture, Kappa rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder, “Hou makin’ demands now?!”

You shook your head fervently, biting the very tip of your tongue to shut the fuck up.

“I better fucking hope so!” He snarled at you before his tongue pushed between bottom lip and a row of slightly crooked teeth, gathering an amalgamation of spit and blood before ejecting the milky pink mixture right into your face.

“This will have consequences.”

[primewritessmut]

19 - SCANDAL

Trust me. I’ve done this before.

I’ve done this before.

Have I done this before?

-----

The scandal only makes the club more popular. The hallway that used to be a straight shot from the bar to the break room is now a writhing sea of bodies, forcing me to swim upstream regardless of which direction I’m going.

A new set of strobing, multi-colored lights has been installed on the ceiling at the entrance to the corridor, splashing red and blue and green and yellow as people dance and shout and grind against each other. And, in between the splashes of color, the hallway is dark. Only for a split second at a time but long enough for the shadows to dance, too.

They rise and fall, lashing out whenever the lights flash off, coiling around the limbs of the dancers. Up and over, around, threading in between their thrashing forms. The darkness looks alive.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

One of the bartenders has leaned all the way over the bar to shout in my ear. It snaps me out of the near-trance I'm in, watching as the shadows creep and crawl, closer and closer and closer.

“It’s not like somebody died back there.” He guffaws loudly and slaps me on the shoulder before reaching out to ruffle the hair on top of my head in a way that makes me wonder how hard it would be to beat someone to death with an empty five-gallon bucket. “Now go get some fucking ice, ice bitch.”

Sometimes I let myself forget that the high-maintenance customers aren’t the only assholes in this bar.

I give Bar Dick Number One a mocking bow as I back away from the bartop, throwing in a curtsy for good measure, before turning back toward the hallway and flipping him off over my head. I wonder if he realizes just how lucky his is to work in the only well-lit area in this place.

A throbbing beat that I don’t recognize drops as I wade into the sea of people between me and the ice machine. Their faces freeze in rictuses of laughter but the way the lights flicker over them makes it look more like they’re screaming. The darkness is thickly woven between the bodies, nearly a solid thing, and I find myself searching for a path that doesn’t have such deep shadows.

There’s a bright white flash of light off to my left, a small group of colorful people pressed up against the section of the wall that it took me hours to scrubbed blood off of. They’re circled up and smiling, hunched over the phone and trying to decide just what photo to post on social that captures how much fun their having and how horrified they are.

But they’re not horrified.

No one is.

That’s why the wave of people keeps crashing into this hallway. They want to see. They want to know. They want to brush up against the dark and imagine that it can’t touch them. As if it isn’t there, waiting for them every time they close their eyes.

I watch them swipe through their photos, and crop, and filter, all smiles.

I blink and the wall behind them is smeared with blood again.

I watch them cram together for a selfie, all duck lips and peace signs.

I blink and the bulbs in the strobe light die with a loud pop.

I watch them pull up their flashlights, shining them at the floor.

I blink and all the little pockets of shadow coalesce into a thick, slithering line.

I watch them watching me as the darkness weaves around our feet.

I blink and it’s in front of them.

I blink and it’s in front of me.

I blink and cold, sharp fangs sink into the back of my hand.

I blink and it's gone.

I blink and they’re gone.

18 - PRESS || 20 - FREEZE

[trishmishtree]

Regency undergarments: take two (a rant). (Also, turning a shapeless sack into a petticoat.)

A while back I made a pair of Regency stays using the Bernhardt pattern (this dud of a project) and hated the fit of it, so I never really worked up the motivation to make the gown I’ve been dreaming of making that would go over the stays. The fit was wrong and the silhouette was wrong, and I just knew that I was going to hate myself for cutting into my special fabric I’d bought for the gown. (Although, I finally tracked down a store that still sells the fabric I’m using, so at least I can order more if I screw up now.)

So I sucked it up and made a new pair of stays. I realized that the problem with the old stays was a combination of the gussets not being the right shape or depth, the entire stays pattern being just too short on me, the straps being too long (hence not getting any lift in the bust), the fact that I used bias binding instead of straight grain binding over the bust gussets (which caused them to stretch out and not offer any support), and my body type. The Bernhardt stays pattern is scaled based on the distance between your midaxillary line to the center of your spine at the level of the fullest part of your bust. Which I'm sure works for most people, except I have scoliosis at that particular level of my thoracic spine. So when I took my measurements, there's a 5-7 mm difference between my left and right, so the stays would be smaller and shorter if I scale them based on the left side measurement, and they would have too much room in the width if I go with the right side measurement. My bust is also just too small to fill out even a 1/2 inch gusset, and too firm and low-set to ever lift into that shelf effect. It just kind of wanted to slither down into the stays and flatten out. I decided that I didn’t really feel like hand stitching in tiny bust gussets that weren’t going to do their job, so I went with the underbust version of the Bernhardt pattern. That way, the top edge of the stays, plus a straight grain binding for reinforcement, would force my bust into the correct position.

And it worked. Sort of. All I wanted was the correct silhouette and I got it, so yeah. I’m just a little really annoyed because I chose this pattern specifically because it’s cut on a partial bias in the center front, which should minimize wrinkling...and I still have a lot of wrinkling going on. But as this is an undergarment that will be completely hidden under the petticoat and dress, I guess it’s fine? Also, it’s still a pain to get into because it’s back lacing AND spiral laced, and my right arm does not like to do the things it needs to do to tighten spiral lacing properly. My only other complaint is that the wooden busk down the center front is kind of digging into my sternum with this new design, but I’ll deal. Since wrinkle-free stays are just not going to be a thing I am capable of making, maybe I’ll try for the c0rset a la paresseuse next time and do away with the lacing and wooden busk entirely.

I’m not posting any pictures of the new stays because they’re underbust, and the sheer fabric I used for the shift underneath leaves nothing to the imagination.

Anyway, then I needed to make a new petticoat because my first one was made for a much lower waistline than was correct for the 18teens. Since the gown I was trying to recreate was one of the straight fronted styles and dates circa 1810-1815, I didn’t want a gathered bodice to the petticoat adding bulk under the gown. So I decided to use my bodice mockup I had originally made for the gown to make a fully bodiced petticoat this time around. This decision had the added bonus of testing to see whether the old pattern (drafted over the shitty old stays) still fits over the new, more period-correct stays.

And it does. (Don’t judge the fact that it doesn’t hide the shift. The over gown will be an apron front/bib front gown, so everything will be covered eventually.)

Here’s a picture of the side/three quarter view. My left hand (yes, my left hand - this picture was taken in a mirror) is pushing the skirt in a little so that you can see where my underbust hits. The over gown will have a waist band that will actually define the empire waistline a little better.

Here’s the side by side comparison of the old stays (left) vs the new (right). (You can’t actually see the new stays under the petticoat, because modesty and stuff, but you can see the difference in shape they give.) See how flat and squashed the old ones made my already nonexistent bust look? It’s like it was trying to be 1920s instead of 1810s-1820s (disclaimer: 1920s c0rsets did not look like this either). Whereas the top of the new stays ends at the empire waistline, and the shift underneath controls the bust, and I look like I actually have a bust to lift.

I’m not really sure what kind of fabric the petticoat is made from. It’s this weird textured, pebbly 100% cotton. My friend had bought it as a dress but she didn’t think the style suited her, so she gave it to me instead. It wasn’t really to my taste either and just kind of hung like a shapeless ankle-length sack. I had hoped to maybe make some slight alterations to make it more flattering, but it was also several sizes too big, so all the bodice seams were in weird places and the armscye was too low to work with. I ended up mutilating the dress and taking it apart to use the skirt for the petticoat skirt and the sleeve fabric for its bodice. (Yes, there are serged seams on the inside from the original garment, because they were already there and I didn’t feel like redoing 7 or 8 long seams by hand.)

Here you can see the original dress didn’t have nearly enough width at the hem to allow for walking, so I added a 20″ wide strip of plain (American/utility) cotton muslin that I gathered up in the center back.

Also, yes I know the pleats on either side of center back are supposed to face the other way. But it’s an undergarment that no one’s ever going to see, and I don’t feel like redoing them.

Anyway, I guess I’m out of excuses for procrastinating this gown now.

[bluejayboi]

Ghost of the Past

This is my first post on this site. I hope you all enjoy :)

I never thought I’d feel this much dread at the mere notion of falling asleep. I did, as a child, feel a bit wary of my room at night but that was nothing compared to this. Back then, my imagination would play tricks on me, convincing me that the shadows of my lamp were actually a figure standing at the foot of my bed or some monstrous creature crawling across the floor. But back then, I could simply turn on the light and chase away the monsters. I never had to worry about my dreams returning me to that place. To that sloppily marked grave hidden among the trees in that dark forest. I would never have to worry about waking up in the middle of the night completely paralyzed and seeing him, lurking in the shadows. Creeping closer and closer; terribly, painfully slow, until he was right next to my bed. I can still remember the smell. That terrible, putrid smell that reeked of death! He would lean in close, close enough for me to see that sickeningly wide grin on his rotting face, and whisper in my ear; “Remember”. He would always tell me to remember. Remember what I did that night. Remember what I did to him. Then he disappears, fading out of existence as if he was never even there in the first place. All that remains from his visit being his rancid stench and the buzz of flies that once circled his foul head. I can never seem to remember what he wants me to. All I seem to remember are those terrible dreams. Of being trapped in a battered and broken coffin that rests snugly in a hole, too deep for me to climb out of. Listening as each shovelful of soil thuds against the disintegrating wood, adding to the ever growing mound. No matter how hard I tried to scream, to alert someone to my plight and escape my grotesque prison, I couldn’t. I was forced to sit and wait, in terror, as I was slowly buried alive. I tried clawing my way out and beating the wood with my fists but I only succeeded in bloodying my knuckles, tearing my nails, and skewering myself with splinters. As each mound of dirt was piled on, the air grew thinner and thinner. Each breath was harder than the last. I’d gasp desperately for air, like a fish out of water, as my lungs burned as if they had been set ablaze. Just as I felt I might finally pass (whether away completely or simply into the realm of unconsciousness I never can tell) I’d awaken in my bed, short of breath and gasping for air. There was another though. I was walking through a forest, one that looked strikingly similar to the woods just past the gate surrounding my yard. As I walked further, the forest seemed to gradually shift. The trees grew more gnarled and wild and the sky darkened until it gave the illusion of twilight. Plants withered, birds fell silent, and the rustling of any woodland creatures halted. The forest became utterly devoid of life. Despite this terrifying display I continued walking deeper into the belly of the beast. I couldn’t stop myself. I felt compelled to continue my march onward. Whether out of curiosity or the need for resolution, I could never tell. The forest grew ghastlier still as I reached a small clearing in the trees. Near the center of the clearing was what looked like a sloppy grave. I know I shouldn’t have. Something in my gut wrenched and roiled like a slithering serpent. But I had to approach. For some reason, this scene felt familiar. It’s not the sort of familiarity that you feel upon recognizing a site from a movie or show. No. I have been here before. I could feel my stomach tying itself into a knot as some unknown emotion slammed into my head. I felt horrible. Had I done something wrong? I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking as I stepped closer to the grave. The soil appeared as if it had just been shoveled in recently. The grave marker was made of two sticks sloppily tied together with a shoelace and stuck into the ground haphazardly. Something wriggles in the soil. It looked like a worm, albeit a large one. I notice as a second one comes up. Then a third. Then a fourth and a fifth. The more they wriggle around the more dirt falls off of them and the better I can see them. That’s when the realization hit me; these aren’t worms. They’re fingers! Rotting and slimy. Skin barely hanging on, exposing the patches of muscle and bone beneath. The fingers jolt towards me, revealing the hand they’re connected to. Before I even had a chance to react, I felt the hand grasp my ankle. With a force I never thought capable, the hand starts tugging me into the soil of the grave. No matter how hard I dig my nails and hands into the soil, in a desperate attempt to drag myself away from the grave, I can’t escape its grasp. Even when I wake, I’m still convinced that I can feel that thing grasping at my ankle! I would very much like to write these off as mere dreams but I can’t. Not when I awake covered in dirt, with splinters and blood peppering my fingers. Or purple bruises around my ankle in the exact place where the hand was. Or such an extreme shortness of breath that I feel like a near drowned man who has just barely escaped his watery grave. I can’t take this anymore! These dreams- These hallucinations are going to drive me mad! If they haven’t already. I need to know what is going on! Maybe then I will find an end to this torment! I’ll start in the forest. I always see it in my dreams. The source of all this must lie within that shadowy thicket! As I stand before the entrance of the forest, with the mighty trees towering far above me, I hear something. Among the rustling of the leaves and the chirping of the birds I hear a voice, breathy and barely audible, coaxing me in; “Come find…the truth … Come find…me …”

I start my trek into the forest. The farther I go, the louder the whispers get. The farther I go, the more I hear. Not sounds that would commonly be found in the forest. Not birds chirping, for that had stopped many moments ago. Not the rustling of leaves, for the wind had long since ceased. Other noises guided me forward. It started with merriment, with the clinking of bottles and two friends laughing. The laughter soon quieted before being replaced with angry mutters and yells. The sounds of a scuffle fill the forest as I start running, desperately, to the source of the noise. A deafening shatter can be heard permeating the forest before a deathly still silence grips me. For too long, the forest is gripped by an uncomfortable silence. This mirage of solitude is broken by soft whimpers, barely coherent apologies and pleas taking rise before falling back into the desperate murmurs. The faint sounds of something heavy being dragged across the forest floor lead me further down my path. I keep following even when the sound shifts from dragging to digging. I run, despite the ache in my legs and the burning sensation in my lungs. I run for what feels like hours before collapsing onto the soil. As I struggle to catch my breath and figure out where I am, I see something moving through the trees. I get up, on shaky legs, and follow it. It looks almost human. It looks like him. I keep following it even after it escapes my view. I keep stumbling in the direction I last saw it until I make it to a clearing, one which I recognize from my dreams. Everything is the same as it was from my dream except for the grave. It was empty. It seems that the same feelings from my dream are gripping me even here. Familiarity, fear, sadness, and what else? I walk closer to the grave, common sense forgotten after the deluge of foreign emotions hit me. What else am I feeling? Why don’t I know? Just as I stand at the base of the hole I hear a ghastly voice whisper in my ear; “Guilt, perhaps?”

I feel a ripple across my body as my hair stands on end. Goosebumps coat my skin in waves as I feel a clammy breath brush past my ear. I turn slowly, almost impossibly slow, and am met with a nauseating, horrifying visage. This creature that had been plaguing me all this time. Him. His flesh had long since started to rot and peel away. There were patches in the process of peeling off. I felt a wave of revolution rise in me as a chunk of its cheek sloughed off and made a soft “plat” as it hit the soil. Maggots and worms were crawling over, around, and through him. Flies buzzed around him and feasted on his flesh. Dried, nearly black blood decorated his head, hair, and clothes. Shards of glass could be seen poking out from his blood-clumped hair and across the side of his face. He was gaunt and pale, nearly skeletal, and his eyes looked like they were about to fall inwards upon themselves. The stench of death filled my nose as I gagged. I wanted to run but I was frozen in absolute terror. I heard a low, guttural groan as his raspy voice came out barely louder than a whisper; “Why did you…kill…me? … It hurt … I was…scared…alone… trapped…in my grave.” His scratchy voice slowly grew louder. His rotten face contorted into a look of rage. Flecks of spittle and a rotten tooth fly forth as he lets out a groaning yell “Be…cause of you! …You did this…to me! You…You…” 

His glare seemed to take on a cruel sheen. His once gaunt frown contorting into an inhumanly wide grin as the skin of his cheeks give way to expose his rotting molars. “…will know…how it feels…”

He slumped forward towards me. I can’t move! I feel his gaunt, nearly skeletal hands grip onto my shoulders as he falls forward, pushing us both into the open grave. I can only watch in terror as his eyes finally roll back into his skull. His jaw unhinges like a snake, allowing for all manner of bugs and vermin to crawl forth from the depths of his throat. The sound of insects scuttling and crawling over us were only interrupted by one noise; The most blood-curdling, guttural scream that I’ve ever heard. If I was not so lost in my own fear I would have realized that the sound was emitted from my mouth. Insects crawled over me, weaseling their way into any crevice they could find; Tunneling down my nose, through my ears, into my throat. Soil intermingled with the tears pouring down my face, making miniscule muddy patches as soil started to enclose upon us both. The mix of soil and vermin eventually gagged and muted the remainder of the screams. Just before the light was blotted out by the encroaching darkness, I looked upon the face of the creature that sealed my fate; the horrifying Cheshire grin still forming trenches through his cheeks.

Two figures in police uniforms could be seen walking through the forest. “Someone reported hearin’ screams from ‘round here.” An exhausted looking officer mutters to their jittery partner between puffs of a cigarette “It was probably just an animal or some kids fooling around or somethin’ but the Boss wants us to check it out anyway. Why’d I ‘ave to get stuck on this job?” They release a perturbed sigh as their partner shakily points to a small clearing “What is it rookie?”.

“I thi- Think it’s a grave.” The fresh-from-the-academy officer stutters, looking to the senior officer for guidance.

The officer lets a small “hm” as they take in the scene that lays before them. “Seems like the soil is pretty fresh. We should probably get the forensics team to come check it out.”

A small “kssht” and the static of a walkie can be heard as instructions and orders are transmitted to a person on the other end. For a time they would remain blissfully unaware of just how close they were to the source of the disturbance they had been sent to investigate. Unaware of the horror that was buried mere feet below where they stand. Hidden beneath the soil, two bodies would eventually be found. One which had been left to rot for months, having clearly undergone countless stages of decomposition. What was left of their face seemed to be expressing a content, almost peaceful look. The other body was fresher. While still clearly dead, this body looked as if it had just found its way into the grave recently. A look of unadulterated terror plastered on its face for as long as the skin may hold.

[flowersforjude]

𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ≈ 𝐢. 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

❛ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦❜

﹙finnick odair x fem!oc﹚

﹙next chapter ➵ masterlist﹚┈﹙read on ao3 ➵ read on wattpad﹚

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | canon typical violence, slight self-injury, mentions of death, etc.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.8 k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I've been working on this for little over a year now. I've posted all current chapters on Wattpad and AO3. I thought I might as well post it here too. This chapter was really just for scene setting and character introduction. The juicer stuff is in upcoming chapters. Hope you enjoy!!

The crunching of gravel beneath hundreds of feet echoed through district four in a sorrowful song. Each pair of feet belonged to a different person with their own story. Each pair was distinct from the one beside them, in front of them, or behind them. But today they were all moving in the same direction, for the same reason. Today they all had one thing in common. They were all reluctantly marching towards the Justice Building because today was the reaping for the annual Hunger Games. They were hesitant, and yet everyone walked steadily on their path without complaint, as if resigned to their fate.

I walked with my mother Camilla, my father Lyle, and my little sister Shae. We are silent as we make our way to the growing crowd of people in front of the Justice Building. Today was not the day for idle conversation. Today was the day for fear or for hope. Fear that your name would be called. Hope that it wouldn't, or that some other unlucky child would be forced to go to their deaths.

This morning, as I got ready, I found myself sitting in the bath longer than necessary. I watched with blank eyes as I dipped my hand down into the cooling water and lifted it back out. Droplets of water raced down the back of my hand until they faded out like one of the many lives taken by the games every year.

The longer I sat in the cold tub of water, the harder it became to keep my mind focused on the small things. Like how shivers ran races down my spine or how my damp hair rested limply on my shoulders. No matter how hard I tried, my thoughts wouldn't stay simple for long. Soon they morphed into debilitating notions of blood and death. My mind ran rampant with scenes of tributes dying in brutal and messy ways.

Now as my feet crunched gravel under my soles, my brain created new ideas of torment. Shae turned twelve this year, and that meant it was her first Reaping Day where her name was in the drawing. It was only once, I kept telling myself. She wouldn't be picked. But the odds never favored ones in our position.

"This is where we go our separate ways." My mother said when we reached the point where we had to split up. I could see unshed tears making her brown eyes glossy as she pulled me and Shae into a hug. She kissed both our cheeks before stepping aside for our father.

"Be brave, girls." He told us and then bent down to hug Shae. When he straightened up, he pulled me in and squeezed. He gave me a kiss on the cheek before he stepped away completely.

"After the reaping, we met back here, and we'll go home." My mom said firmly, as if cementing the idea that both of her daughters would be returning to her. She wiped away a few tears that managed to sneak their way down her cheeks. "We love you both."

"We love you too," I replied.

My parents went off to the area where the adults watched. Watched as two kids were chosen to fight to the death. Shae and I walked on together, our breaths shallow with fear and anticipation. As we approached the spot where our paths diverged, I turned to say goodbye. Her eyes flickered over to me as if to plead for escape. She switched her gaze to her line, staring at it like a slithering viper ready to strike if she dared take even one step closer.

"Shae?" I dropped down to her height.

She started shaking her head, and her pink lips began to wobble. "I can't, Lyssa. I'm scared."

I gave her a sympathetic look and smoothed down her hair with my hands. "I know you're scared, but your name is only in there once. The odds of you being chosen are slim."

She inhaled deeply, her chestnut eyes still wide and fearful. I pulled her close and breathed into her hair the words of reassurance that she needed. I cupped her face in my hands, gave her a gentle nod of encouragement, and watched as she tentatively stepped away from me and towards the other children. It took everything in me not to grab the back off her dress and run.

I took my place in line with the other seventeen-year-olds and watched as the people in front of me got their fingers pricked by an intimidating looking woman.

As the seconds ticked by like the timer on a bomb, it grew harder to breathe. The nerves I chained down all this morning fighting their way up. An anchor pressed down on my chest, weighing my whole form down as it rested in the sand of the sea. I couldn't look scared. I knew it made no difference whether or not my fear was visible. If my name was called, then that was that. But I didn't want anyone to view me as weak. Even if that's what I was in reality.

My feet shuffled forward as the line flowed. The girl in front of me gasped loudly as her blood was drawn. In seconds, she was moving out of the line, and it was my turn.

"Next!" The woman called. "Name?"

"Lyssa Monroe."

She looked down the list till she landed on my name. She silently held out her hand, and I held my pointer finger out to her. She pricked it, but I barely registered the small pain; I was too focused on staying calm. She smeared my blood on multiple sheets of paper; in a way, she just sighed my possible death certificate. Those slips of paper will be sent to the big glass bowl, whose only purpose was to hand out death sentences. And I stood a chance of being called. I wonder if that bothers her. That by doing this job, she's sending kids to their deaths. I wonder how she feels or if she feels anything at all. Maybe she didn't; maybe you have to be void of emotion to do this job.

When she called for the next person, I stepped out of the way and went to stand with my age group. I pressed my still bleeding finger into the fabric of my dress. It was the nicest clothing item I owned, and I hated it. I wore it on reaping day and reaping day only. The atrocious piece of material served as a reminder of the worst days of my life. Days filled with fear and dread. The only thing I felt when I looked at it was anguish.

I didn't know any of the girls I was standing with, so I searched the crowd for Shae. I found her standing between two girls her age, but she was so small compared to them.

I caught her eyes and sent her a smile and a wink. I tried to look carefree for her even if my stomach was twisting in rough knots. Something was off; I could feel it in the pit of my stomach, swirling around like unruly waves in a storm. No matter how much I attempted to convince myself otherwise, today was not going to have a good outcome. But Shae needed me to reassure her so she wouldn't break down. I knew she was scared. This was her first year in the drawing; her name was only in once, but it was that one chance that kept her up all last night.

I dug my nails into the palm of my hand. The sharp pain of them digging into my skin was enough to ground me for now.

Sabine Glass, our district escort, strutted out from the Justice Building, and we all focused our attention on her. She had the usual bold and careless air about her as clicked her way to center stage. With each step, her dress glistened in the sun, its green sequins catching the light like tiny mirrors. Around her neck hung a necklace of bronzy-white seashells that matched her earrings, bracelets. The same shells were intricately woven into her updo. Her shoes were the same color as her dress and had heels so long that I wondered how on earth she even managed to walk on stage without falling.

She cleared her throat into the microphone, getting the attention of the crowd. "Welcome! People of District four, to the reaping of the 70th Hunger Games! I know we're all very excited to see who our tributes will be this year, but before that, we have a presentation from the esteemed President Snow!"

The crowd clapped with a small fraction of Sabine's enthusiasm. four was a career district, but only half the population fell into that category. So some of the citizens had pride for this whole charade, but the hatred and fear of the other half far outweighed that misguided respect for the games.

Two huge black screens were set up on either side of the building, and with Sabine's cue, they started to play the origin video of The Hunger Games. We were made to watch this video every reaping day, year after year. It was to remind us of the horror before the games so we wouldn't want to rebel again. When the video was over, Sabine began clapping, and slowly, the crowd reluctantly joined in.

"That was spectacular!" Sabine cheered into the microphone. "Let's begin, shall we? As per usual, ladies first!"

She walked over to the glass bowl and swirled her hand around in it, meticulously searching for the right slip of paper. The tension of the crowd was palpable. Everyone was still and the quietness was suffocating. My heart raced in my chest, like I had just gotten done for a swim and was laying on the warm sand of the beach, soaking up the sun's rays. Though even after all the time I spent out there, my skin stayed its same pale shade.

Sabine plucked out a slip of paper and pranced back over to the microphone. As she neatly unfolded it, my nails racked deeper into my palm, digging into my skin until I felt a slight trickle of blood flow down my palm. My ears clouded with the sound of adrenaline, and only Sabine's shrill voice brought my senses back to me.

"Lyssa Monroe!"

My heart stopped along with everything else as the blaring silence rang in my ears. Chills ran down my body, and the blood froze in my veins. I didn't move; I couldn't move. The girls around me murmured amongst themselves and stared at my unmoving body with sympathy and selfish relief.

"Lyssa Monroe?" Sabine spoke again, this time as a question.

The girls parted like a great wave, creating an aisle for me to walk through. The first step I took was unintentional, but it was like my body had switched to autopilot. My legs numbly carried me all the way to the stage. I didn't raise my head until I walked up the steps and was in front of the crowd.

As I lifted my eyes, the sun seemed brighter than before, momentarily blinding me. When they adjusted, my eyes met the crowd of my fellow District four members.

I found my parents in the cluster of adults. My mother had her face buried in my father's chest. Even from here, I could see her shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs. My father's face was set hard, but I knew he was trying to keep his tears reigned in.

I turned my attention to Shae, who had pushed her way to the front of her section. Her tiny hands held the barricade in a death grip. Her cheeks were red and stained with tears.

Sabine shoved the microphone at my face, and only then did I realize she had asked me something.

"What?" I muttered dumbly.

"I asked how old you were, dear."

"I'm seventeen," I mumbled.

Sabine took the microphone back and placed her hand on her heart. "And how lovely you are, my dear."

She turned back to the audience, clapping her hands. "Now for the gentleman." She glided over to the bowl that held the boys' names. She repeated the same swirling hand movements around the glass until she snatched up a slip of paper.

She cleared her throat before reading the name. "Hector May!"

A gasp rang out among the crowd, and even me in my numbed state lifted my eyes in surprise. Hector May was Mayor Walim May's son. Of course, being the child of the mayor didn't exclude you from the reaping, but they were rarely chosen. That's why everyone had started to murmur amongst themselves as Hector slowly made his way up to the stage.

He looked behind him at his father. The mayor tried not to show any emotion at his son being reaped, but I saw how his jaw clenched and his hands began to subtly shake in his lap.

"What an interesting turn of events!" Sabine exclaimed. "How old are you, dearie?"

"Eighteen." Hector answered in a deep monotone voice.

"And you're the mayor's son, correct?"

"Yes."

Sabine laughed almost giddily. "What a wonderful pair we have here." She motioned for us to shake hands. We both moved forward and grasped the other's hand as Sabine addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure of presenting to you your District four tributes for the 70th annual Hunger Games!"

━

We were marched in silence down a long hallway, escorted by a couple of stern-faced peacekeepers. Hector and I were taken to separate rooms, mine with harsh fluorescent lights that cast everything in a painful brightness. The stark and sterile air felt suffocating as I helplessly waited for what was next. I shifted nervously on the hardwood chair, tracing small circles onto its smooth surface while my leg anxiously bounced up and down. Even pinching myself couldn't make this nightmare go away. My throat tightened in despair while tears stung my eyes.

A creak of the door handle made me jump, and I scrambled to my feet. My parents and Shae entered the room, their faces blurry with emotion. We raced towards each other, a tangle of limbs that collapsed into a heap on the floor. Someone was sniffling, and it took me a moment to realize it was me.

My father wiped the tears off my face and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Everything will be alright." He stated calmly like there was nothing to worry about.

I looked at him in disbelief. "Dad, how can you say that?"

He sighed. "I know you're scared, sweetie. But you can't let your fear control you. You're going to be fine because you're going to win."

"How? I can't–" I couldn't even finish my sentence. How could my father be so sure, so calm?

"Lyssa." My mother said, clearing the tears from her eyes. "Your father is right. I know you're scared, but you can't think about that right now."

"What do I do?" I asked helplessly.

My father was the one to answer. "Find a weapon that fits you. One that's easy for you to use but effective. Try throwing knives. You were always good with those."

"Okay." I nodded along with him.

"You have to come back, Lyssa." Shae blurted out.

I looked down at her small frame and immediately drew her to me. "I promise I will try my hardest." I said into her hair. My lips connected with the top of her head as her arms tightened around me.

The door opened again, and the peacekeepers came in. "Time's up." One of them said.

We hugged each other one last time before one of the peacekeepers escorted them out. They all called their last farewells as they were moved out of my view.

"Be brave, Lyssa! Remember what I said!"

"Win, so you come back home!"

"We love you, sweetheart!"

There was one peacekeeper left in the room with me. "It's time to board the train, Miss Monroe," he said.

I nodded and hesitantly followed him out into the hallway, where Sabine and Hector stood waiting.

"Now then, you're both very excited, I'm sure, so let's hurry along. The Capitol awaits!" Sabine sang, genuinely excited, with a smile plastered on her face. I tried to tell myself it was just because she was from the Capitol and didn't really know any better. Though, as she led a silent Hector and I away, I couldn't help but feel disgust towards her. She was voluntarily escorting us to our deaths.

My face remained blank as we boarded the train. The odds were never on my side, and they never would be. 

Let me know in the comments if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this story! <3

[danydragons21]

TSTS Chapter 18: The Void

Actually blown away that I’m posting another chapter so quickly. Who am I? I hardly recognize myself. But enjoy!

Read on ao3 here.

CHAPTER 18: THE VOID

It was raining when Elain awoke. Good, she thought. Much more fitting for her mood than sunny weather.

Unable to bring herself to face the day, she remained in bed for a while, watching droplets of rain slither down the window pane, trying her best not to think about last night but failing miserably. It didn’t help that she knew Azriel was sleeping on the other side of the door. She’d heard him outside the room all night, shuffling and squirming around. A small part of her felt guilty about making him sleep on the hard floor, but a much larger part did not give a shit.

It’s not like she was even that mad at him. Okay—she was pretty mad. But mostly she was just embarrassed. Humiliated. Her almost-kiss with Azriel the night of Solstice had been…it had been indescribably important to her. And when he rejected her, she had immediately assumed it was because of something she did. Because of some mistake she had made.

But no. If Azriel was to be believed (and as angry as Elain was at him for keeping this from her, she did believe him), the only mistake she’d made was thinking Rhys had her best interests at heart.

Rhys. It was him, not Azriel, at the root of her anger. She and Rhys had always been close. Even when she first arrived at Velaris, recently transformed into Fae and scared and heartbroken, he had always looked out for her. When Feyre was still undercover in the Spring Court, he made an effort to check on her at least once a day. And since then, they’d only become closer. She lived at the River House with him and his family, for gods’ sake, spent day in and day out helping with dinner and the garden and Nyx. It was disappointing and upsetting and infuriating all at once that Rhys had deemed her autonomy not as important as whatever political game he was playing.  She thought he cared about her more than that.

The shocked emptiness she’d originally felt about the situation had transformed overnight. It was now a massive void, a black hole, snatching at and internalizing every negative thought that flew across her mind. The void fed off anger, and she had no shortage of anger right now. It was nice, she supposed, to actually let herself feel something . It was nice to feel angry when so often, she forced herself to feel nothing.

She let that anger motivate her enough to get out of bed and dress. By the time she opened the door, Azriel had woken up and was leaning against the opposite wall. There were dark circles under his eyes. She ignored the slight pang in her heart at the sight.

He opened his mouth uncertainly, but Elain spoke before he could. “Let’s leave.”

He closed his mouth and nodded tightly. And that was that.

***

Azriel brought her straight to the River House. She surprised herself by how happy she was to see it. She’d never really thought of it as her “home,” but the contentment that washed over her at the sight of the city made her realize how much she’d missed it. Her home.  The second he set her down on the grass, she was off, throwing open the doors and racing up the stairs. There was only one person she wanted to see right now.

“Nyx!” She cooed. The baby squealed excitedly when he saw her standing in the doorway of his nursery. She scooped him up in her arms and clutched him tightly to her chest.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much! Look at you, look at how much bigger you’ve gotten!” She held him out at arms length. “You aren’t allowed to grow anymore when Auntie Elain is gone,” she said sternly. Nyx giggled and wrapped his chubby arms around her neck once more.

A voice came from the doorway. “I’d never tell Nesta this, but you are most certainly his favorite aunt.”

She spun around to find Feyre leaning against the doorframe, a wide grin on her pretty, freckled face. After kissing her on the cheek and tousling Nyx’s hair, her younger sister asked, “Where’s Azriel? Didn’t he come with you?”

Elain kept her face neutral as she responded, “I’m not sure. I ran up to see my nephew the second we got here,” she said, and rubbed her nose against Nyx’s, making him giggle even more.

“Oh, okay. Well, I know Rhys was looking for him.”

Rhys. A sharp burst of anger rushed through her at the sound of his name. And then her vision went slightly foggy.

It was a perfect storm of singing shadows: her anger and unchecked emotions, the proximity to her brother-in-law, Feyre mentioning his name…all of those reasons compounded and caused her to have a vision she did not ask for. The second time it had happened in the past week.  As if underwater, or underneath a heavy blanket, she sensed Feyre grab Nyx from her limp arms. But then the vision began and she could see nothing else:

“We haven’t spoken since that day on the mountain,” Rhys said quietly. He and Azriel were sitting across from each other in Rhys’ office. The sky was dark through the window; it was nighttime.

Azriel remained silent and Rhys let out a heavy, exhausted sigh.

“I’m sorry for how harshly I spoke. I am. But are you going to stay angry at me forever?”

Still, Azriel did not speak. Rhys’s violet eyes darkened with frustration.

“You know she does not belong with you. In your heart of hearts, you know that,” Rhys said quietly.

Elain gasped and broke above the surface. The vision washed away until Nyx’s nursery was once again clear.

“Elain? Are you okay?” Feyre asked, eyes wide with worry.

“I’m fine,” she panted, her skin cold and clammy. Shakily, she sat down in a nearby rocking chair. Nyx let out a slight whimper. Elain forced herself to smile at the baby.

“I’m fine, darling.”

“What did you see?”

Elain’s fists clenched. What did she see? She saw proof that someone she loved and cared about didn’t love and care about her at all.

“Nothing important,” she replied blankly. “Nothing important at all.”

***

By the time the Inner Circle meeting began that evening, Elain was in a much better mood. She’d spent the previous few hours outside with Nuala and Cerridwen; the twins had been kind enough to keep up with the garden while she was gone. Feyre had High Lady duties to attend to, so she’d brought Nyx with her to the garden, as well. She showed the twins how to braid flowers into their hair by demonstrating on herself. It had helped divert her attention away from the Rhys and Azriel situation, but as she sat down for the meeting and faced Rhys for the first time since discovering his betrayal, the familiar fist of anger inside her tightened.

“Who wants to start?” Feyre asked. Elain frowned in confusion. Her sisters and brothers-in-law were the only ones seated at the table; Mor, Azriel and Amren were noticeably absent.

“Where are the others?” She asked.

“Mor is in Vallahan, Amren is at the Summer Court, and Azriel is out on Spymaster duties. There’s been reports of Autumn Court soldiers seen roaming random islands in the southern hemisphere. He went to investigate. So they won’t be joining us today.”

Thankfully, Elain was able to keep her expression blank. But Autumn Court soldiers had been spotted on other islands besides Pentalos? That was news to her. She was also rather miffed that Azriel hadn’t bothered saying goodbye to her, though she supposed that was rather unfair. It’s not like she had sought him out either, and given how they left things, he probably knew to give her space.

“How are things going at the mortal manor, Elain?” Feyre asked.

“Very well,” she responded. “Vassa and the others have been very busy the past few weeks, but I’ve managed to spend time with them all. I still am not sure what information Vassa might be hiding from us, but I am sure she is hiding something.”

“How do you know?”

She shrugged. “She’s my friend. I can tell.”

Cassian smirked. “Good enough reason for me.”

“Are Lucien and Jurian aware of whatever Vassa is hiding?” Nesta asked.

“I can’t be sure, but I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ll find out, though.”

“Good,” Rhys said, giving her an encouraging smile. Elain turned away and ignored him.

“How are things with Lucien?” Feyre asked carefully.

Elain frowned. That question came out of nowhere.

“Fine,” she said slowly. Silence followed.

Rhys cleared his throat. “We have a favor to ask.”

Her entire body went stiff in trepidation. “I’m kind of in the middle of the last favor you asked of me,” she said coldly.

Letting out a nervous laugh, Rhys continued. “You’re right. But hopefully you won’t find this one too cumbersome.”

“Depends on what it is.” She began to finger her braid nervously. The flowers she’d twined in it earlier were still there.

“The Autumn Court has requested all the Courts meet in two months' time for a symposium. Beron claims it is a step forward for peace between the Courts, but we suspect differently,” Feyre said.

“Two months’ time,'' Elain repeated. “The ball at the Mortal Manor is in two months’ time.”

“Exactly. The timing of his request is too uncanny. And we haven’t forgotten the vision you had all those weeks ago of the Autumn Court soldier saying Beron was working with Koschei. We don’t know why exactly he wants all the Courts in one place at one time, but it can’t be anything good.”

“No, it can’t,” Elain murmured. “So what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to keep our friends close and our enemies closer,” Cassian said.

“The Symposium will be held at the Mortal Manor. The day after the ball, which all the Courts are also welcome to attend. Vassa’s already agreed. We needed a neutral location to meet, and this way we can still control who comes in and out.” Nesta clarified.

“Isn’t it incredibly risky to host a bunch of rival courts while we are setting a trap for and evading an attack from Koschei?”

“We’ve considered that. But as likely as it is that Beron and Koschei are working together, we still have no hard evidence. It’s possible they are both trying to set separate traps for us. This way, at least, we have the upper hand and can set our plans and defenses accordingly.” Feyre answered this time.

“So delegates from all the Courts will be at the Ball,” Rhys said. “Which leads us into our favor. You’ve already been singled out as a target for Koschei, as you very well know, since you volunteered to be bait.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nesta’s knuckles go white. “We don’t wait to give anyone else a reason to target you.” He paused, and Prythian’s most powerful High Lord turned to his wife in a silent plea to take over, apparently too nervous to continue.

“We think it will be beneficial for you and Lucien to pretend to have accepted the mating bond at the Ball.” Feyre’s words came out in a rush, as if saying them quickly would easy any negative impact.

“ What?”

“We aren’t asking you to actually accept it,” Cassian said earnestly. “Just pretend, for safety’s sake.”

“We can glamour you both so that your scents mimic that of an accepted mating bond,” Rhys elaborated. “Nothing will be permanent.”

“How will pretending to accept the mating bond make things any safer for me?” She now realized why Mor, Amren and Azriel were absent from the meeting. It was another manipulative tactic. As if she would be less angry and more understanding if just her “family” brought up this sensitive topic.

“It’s possible the Autumn Court will target you out, whether because you are Lucien’s proposed mate or because Koschei commanded them to. But if you have actually accepted the mating bond, others will be much more hesitant to mess with you.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Mating bonds are sacred to the Fae. Even the most barbaric of us are hesitant to get between a male and his mate. It will make you seem untouchable.”

It didn’t sound like that to Elain. Since when did males ever stay away from things that didn’t belong to them? If anything, it seemed like yet another target on her back. She was also annoyed that everyone was acting like she needed a male in her life to keep her safe and sound.

“No.”

Everyone blinked in shock.

“I will not,” Elain said. “I may have been captured twice by Hybern, may have offered myself up as bait in this upcoming trap…but I am no damsel in distress. I don’t need a male to protect me.”

“Elain, please,” Nesta begged. “It is just to keep you safe. Truly. Do you despise him so much you are not willing to pretend, even for an evening?”

“I do not despise him,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I will not pretend to feel something that I do not. Will not pretend that we are together just because some stupid Cauldron said so, and because it will make you all feel better.” She was panting now. She could feel the heat begin to spread throughout her body, and she fought to keep it at bay, to cool herself down. Willed her hands not to glow.

“I was thrown into the cauldron, too. Resented it for so long it nearly destroyed me,” Nesta said. “I understand how you are feeling. I really do—”

“No you do NOT!” Elain said. Yelled. “How can you say that? How can you sit there and tell me our trauma is the same! We may have both been thrown in the cauldron, both thrashed and drowned in that burning vat of horror, but our subsequent experiences and adversities have been very, very different. As different as the two of us have always been. And how would any of you even begin to know what I went through? You have never asked. None of you.”

“Elain, we did not want to upset you—” Feyre began.

“Of course you didn’t. No one ever wants to risk rattling weak and fragile Elain. Who knows if it will finally make her fall off the shelf and shatter into a million pieces?”

A stunned silence met her words.

“Maybe we should take a second to calm down,” Cassian said bravely. All three females shot him an icy glare and he sunk lower in his seat, his skin rather ashen.

“Have you even tried to get to know Lucien?” Feyre asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Elain replied shortly. “He is my friend. But I think it’s important to mention that I do not owe him anything, even friendship. I do not owe him anything, and he does not owe me anything. We are fine with the situation as it is. But that is between us and nobody else."

“Elain,” Nesta said, her voice quiet, “I struggled accepting the bond at first, too. I didn’t want anything the Cauldron gave me, especially not a chosen partner who I barely knew. But…but then I did get to know him. And I fell in love with him not because of any bond, but because he is everything I ever wanted and everything I didn’t know I needed. Sometimes, it just takes time and effort.”

In her heart of hearts, Elain knew her sister was just trying to be helpful. But she was so tired of others assuming that what was best for them was what was best for her.

“That is YOUR love story! Not mine,” she cried. “How can you sit there and tell me this is my decision to make, and then in the same breath turn around and dare to presume what will make me happiest? You got lucky, both of you,” she said to her sisters. “The loves of your life were chosen as your mates, and you were able to seal that bond on your own time, on your own terms. Able to make that decision for yourself. But my mate was thrust at me as quickly and undesirably as this entire godsdamn immortal life!”

She was crying in earnest now, unashamedly, righteously.

“I..I was engaged to a man I loved .” Her voice broke on that last word. “After a lifetime of being treated like a docile pet, favored but never respected, I was finally seen , finally wanted. I had a future that didn’t involve living the rest of my life in your shadow,” she hissed at Nesta, and the dark void in her grumbled in approval at the way her elder sister’s face crumpled.

“You have never lived in my shadow,” Nesta whispered.

“I have,” Elain said, “And you know it. I have never been held to the same level of intelligence and esteem that you hold yourself to—and that others hold you to. Even now, I am the weak sister, the boring sister, the useless sister. The one who went insane after turning Fae and has never quite recovered.” She was breathing so heavily she could feel perspiration forming on the back of her neck. But she was not done. “How is it that none of you have ever asked me about my experience in the Cauldron? How come it is Nesta who gets credit for killing Hybern when if I hadn’t stabbed him in the fucking neck, none of us would even be alive right now? How is it that I have never once been encouraged to learn from my powers before it was absolutely necessary, before there was no other option, before I was a last resort?”

Fury, hot and burning, spread throughout her body, and she fought to keep it at bay, to cool herself down. She closed her eyes and imagined Azriel’s shadows, smooth as silk, sweet as a kiss, caressing her neck. Released a slow breath of air. When she opened her eyes, Nesta was staring at her with tears running down her face. But Elain would not be silenced. Not anymore.

“I have been treated like I am weak and powerless my entire life,” Elain breathed, “And perhaps I am to blame for some of that. For letting it happen without putting up a fight. For letting myself believe I was weak and powerless. But I know better now. So please, stop with the bullshit. I do not need to be protected. I deserve to make my own decisions.”

But then Rhys said the very last thing that would ever calm her down.

“You will always have a choice here,” he said. Like he’d said so many times before.

Elain slowly looked up at him. Her heart was thundering in her chest. She could feel her pulse racing faster than ever before, could feel the red flush of anger that crept along every inch of her skin. Liar .

“Is that so?” She replied coolly. “Before you answer,” she said, as Rhys opened his mouth, uncertainty flashing in his violet eyes, “Remember who I am. Remember what I am. Remember that my power is knowledge. And I know that what you say is a lie. You like to make choices for other people, don’t you, Rhys?”

Rhys had frozen. Beside him, Feyre was glancing at both her mate and her sister in turns, confusion etched across her face.

“Rhys...what is she talking about?” Feyre asked slowly.

Elain stood, and for the first time in her life, she felt powerful. Even in her soft pink gown, even with the flowers braided in her hair, even with her weak muscles and weaker, bleeding, aching heart. The truth was a flame inside of her, and she was burning with it, a fire that could not be put out.

She stared at Rhys with cool, dark eyes, and she knew that he knew. Knew that he was fully aware of the decisions he had made for her and for him . For Azriel.

“You are my High Lord,” she said icily, “And as a member of this Court, I will obey your orders. But I will never trust you again.” Gathering her skirt in her hands, she walked slowly out the doors of the dining room, and didn’t look back as she said, “You should know better than to lie to a seer.”

[youngbeezer]

For the tiktok stories waking up early to watch the sunrise with Nolan Patrick

Referenced Post

Prompt-- 12. Waking up early to watch the sunrise

A/N: Here's another blurb from the 14 oddly romantic things blurb set. Sorry it has taken me so long to post another one, I've been having very little motivation to write lately so hopefully this isn't too bad.

Thanks for requesting this, hope you like it :)

Word Count: 975

Warning(s): none i dont think, ending kinda sucks

join my taglist :)

Quietness surrounds me as my mind awakens before my body. I lay motionless for a few minutes trying to even out my breath once more, but my mind does not seem to want to cooperate. Realizing there is no chance of me falling back asleep, I roll onto my side where my bedside table is to focus my bleary eyes on the clock to check what time it is.

4:58 AM.

I throw my head back onto the pillows in annoyance. Rolling onto my side once more, now in the opposite direction, I find my boyfriend still in a deep slumber. I contemplate wanting to either stay in bed and to try to force myself back to sleep, or just cave in and get up and start my day. Going for the latter, I carefully peel the comforter and sheets off of my body, trying not to disturb my tired boyfriend. As soon as my bare feet hit the cold hardwood floors, I hear Nolan grumble a little bit before eventually rolling to the other side.

I let out a sigh of relief and then made my way to the bathroom to do my business and wash my face. Before heading to the kitchen, I grab my phone and my favorite fluffy blanket off the corner chair in our bedroom and slip on a pair of slippers.

While starting a pot of coffee, I check my phone to see what time the sunrise is. Seeing that I have a good 25 minutes before the sun begins to ascend, I take my time making my coffee and looking through some of my social media. Once I start to hear the first few chirps coming from the birds outside, I decide to then go ahead and make my way onto the balcony that will give me the perfect view of the sunrise over the Philly skyline. The air still smells of the night time as I shiver a little, basking in the last bit of quietness before the sun arises and the hustle and bustle of the day begins.

I’m broken out of the quietness when I hear the sliding glass door of the balcony creak open. I crane my neck to find Nolan-- with his crazy bedhead and bleary eyes, walking out into the crisp air.

“What are you doing awake?” I croak out my first words of the morning.

“I could ask you the same thing.” His already deep voice intensified from just waking up.

I give him a little shrug. “My body just decided to wake up now. Did I wake you?”

He lifts his arms above his head and does a big stretch while shaking his head no.

I ignore the way his shirt lifts up a little revealing a slither of his v-line and focus my eyes back on him giving him a questioning glare.

He huffs at my expression and finally relents, “I wanted to cuddle with you, but you weren’t there.”

I coo at that whereas Nolan blushes and rolls his eyes at my antics. He motions for me to get up, which I do, where he then takes my previous place and pulls me into his lap. I fix the blanket to where it is now covering us both and immediately snuggle closer to Nolan’s body. He gives me a little kiss on the forehead, where my head is currently laying on his chest, and wraps his arms tighter around me.

Slowly the first few rays of sunlight peeked over the edge of the Philly skyline casting pinkish/goldish hues in the sky. The first rays of the sun are cool and bracing to our tired eyes. As the golden disc seemed to be rising more and more, you could hear the birds singing their morning tunes, and there was a quick moment of serene and calmness as the world around us felt like it was stopped in time, allowing us to capture this peaceful moment. Finally, as the sun gets higher in the sky, the day’s activities begin. You can hear the early-risers already up and at them bustling through the streets, the cars whizzing through the traffic lights, and the beautiful sounds of the trash truck making its way through the town. Gotta love city life.

I sigh contently in Nolan’s arms, reveling in the last few moments of peace before we go and get a head start on our day.

“Thank you for staying out here with me.” I whisper to Nolan.

He responds by giving my forehead another kiss and then mumbles into my hair, “Of course. I’d do anything if it meant starting my mornings with you by my side.”

I sit up a little and bring my hands to play with his overgrown hair. I smile at the slight blush that currently overtakes my boyfriend's cheeks after his last confession.

“Ya know mornings make you all lovey dovey and say all these cute things.” I tease lightly.

His blush turns an even darker shade of pink at that and he turns his face away from me to try and hide it. I gently grab hold of his chin and bring his face back towards mine to bring our lips together. The kiss is sweet and short since neither of us have yet to brush our teeth, and it is still very early in the morning for things to get too heated. But it’s still all we need. As we pull apart, I mumble against his lips,

“I love you,”

“I love you too.” He drawled, bringing me back in for one more kiss.

“Hm, wait. Does this mean you’ll wake up with me again tomorrow to watch the sunrise?”

He groaned, and I let out a light laugh while snuggling back into his chest already thinking about how today is going to be a great day.

Tagging a few people so this doesn't flop,,,

@heatherawoowoo @barzysandmarnersbitch @matbarzls @barzy-xoxo @joelfarabeezer @luukasreichel @lovereadinghockeyy @only-goalies-allowed @rosesvioletshardy @bb-nhlqueen7 @yungbeez @youngbeez @cherrybarzy @2manytabsopen @carepriceisgoodathockey @prettyboyjackhughes @turcsandzegras @iwantahockeyhimbo @farabees

[secondhand-trash]

(Young Nekomata is hot and you agree too, just admit it)

A/N: is this a joke or is this not you decide after taking a look at this and tell me you don’t get why I’m doing this to myself now, also @bobawithpomegranate i hope you’re proud of yourself

Pairing: YOUNG!YOUNG!YOUNG!Nekomata Yasufumi x f!reader (he’s aged DOWN, D OWN)

Word count: 1207 (god fucking damn it)

Warning: I think the pairing tag is enough of a warning on its own, semi-pubilc (you’re in an alley), vaginal fingering

It was not your fault that the assistant coach for your younger brother’s volleyball team was very attractive. 

“They are waiting for us- unh!” you clasped your hand onto your lips when you pulled away from him only to have him slamming his lips back onto you in an instance. Nekomata did not seem to be happy about the deviation of your attention, his hand roughly groping your hip as he held you up. For a man of his size, he was surprisingly strong, holding you in place as your knees bucked when he left you breathless from kiss after kiss.

“They’re all drunk,” he whispered as he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth, slanted eyes glowing at you like a predator as his hand inched up your skirt, “they won’t notice.”

You tried to find the slither of rationality in you, reminding yourself that you were here to celebrate the Nekoma volleyball club’s recent win, not to mess around with the young coach at the back alley of the izakaya. “But-” you whimpered, letting out a pitiful whine when he shoved his knee between your legs, nudging it at your clothed cunt. His lips ghosted at your neck, nibbling along his way as he settled on your collarbone. 

Nekomata chuckled, the soft touch of his lips making you shiver when he rode your skirt up until he could see the lace of your panties just from the corner of his sharp vision. You felt so soft, he could already feel you heating up. Under his hands, above his knee. He knew he would like you the first time you showed up at a practice match, cheering the loudest when the team scored and even louder when your brother was up on the court. 

Smart boy, that kid, but he was not ashamed to say that he was far more intrigued by you.

He struck up a conversation with you when they were packing up, thanking you for always supporting the team. You smiled, saying that you were mostly there for your brother. He nodded understandingly, and proceed to tell you more about how the boy acted during practice, how he thought the kid had potential (it wasn’t a lie), how lucky he was for having such a lovely sister there to cheer for him.

He was grinning ear to ear when you gave him your phone number when he offered to tell you about matches they might have soon.

One thing led to another, he started talking to you more and more. First about your brother, about the team, then eventually more about himself, more about you. It was his idea to invite you to the post-match get-together, even more so when the kids were getting tired and he told you about how the teachers and coaches were gonna have an after party without the kids.

“You should come,” he noticed the way you shudder when his hand brushed against yours when he turned to you at the table, and flashed you a smile, “it’ll be fun.”

Sure enough, you were a lot less cautious when your brother was finally not around and he was no longer just your brother’s coach but “Nekomata kun”. God, how pretty you sounded when you said his name all giggly, leaning over onto his shoulder when you were laughing over some joke another person made. You didn’t move away when he swiftly put his hand on your waist, holding you there as you laid against him. He could feel your chest pressing up against his side, all warm and soft and oh so tempting. 

You stiffened up when his hand moved lower and lower, stopping where your hip bone jutted out. He was smiling like nothing was going on when you looked up at him, all doe-eyed and trembling breaths as your pupil dilated. You darted your glance away, looking around the table and realised that you two were the only ones still sober at the table.

Your eyelids fluttered, looking at him behind your lashes as he continued to smile at you all while having his hand on your hips.

You gulped, and mustered up the bit of courage inside of you.

“Do you want to go get some fresh air outside?”

The air at the meek alleyway was nowhere near fresh and it was not like you were taking many breaths with his lips chasing after yours. Your hands dug at his back when he held your thigh up, lifting it and hooking it around his waist as his other hand snaked down to the crotch of your soaked panties. 

“Is this all for me?” he chuckled as he nudged the lace to the side, running the pad of his middle finger along your folds. Your eyes were half-closed, lips swollen from how eager he had been. He had yanked down the collar of your shirt when he pressed your back against the brick wall, the swell of your chest now barely visible to his hungry gaze. 

He made a mental remark to himself that he needed to leave some marks on you later when you were somewhere more private.

“Ngh!” you moaned when you felt his digit pushing into your cunt, the slender finger pumping experimentally all while its owner was drinking in your lustful expression. The wetness coating his finger sent a rush to his core, his face heating up in thrill when you slowly lose the control to hold your voice in the moment he added another one.

He started off slow, dragging the calloused pad of his fingers along your spongey walls to test the waters. You clawed at his back for dear life, whimpering his name as you tried to hide your fast into his shoulder. Your entire body jerked when he brushed past a particular soft spot and he licked his lips, taking you by surprise when he gave a sharp flick of his wrist. The sound of squelching bounced off the walls of this empty alleyway, sending shame and arousal straight to your head as he only got rougher and rougher with you. 

“You’re already clamping down on me so hard,” you could feel the vibration from his chest as he spoke, “how will you manage if I try to put in something bigger?”

You whined at the thinly veiled hint and he chuckled at how you shook your head so helplessly. “No?” he said, pulling his fingers out of your briefly to spread your juices onto your clit, rubbing the bud between his fingers gently, “Do you not want more?”

You shook your head again, this time much faster and much more desperately. He cooed, forcing down his urge to just take you right then and there when you snapped up at him with such teary eyes as he pulled away completely. 

Your face burnt when he brought his fingers to his lips, swirling his tongue around the glistening digits that were covered in your slick.

“Be a good girl for me tonight,” you shivered when he pulled you into his chest, his hand wandering everywhere as he tugged your clothes back in place all while whispering into your ear, “and I’ll make sure you get many more.”

[slashxrose]

•Slash Imagine ~

Name: cannot resist you.

Posted on: Wattpad (user: Slashxrose)

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talking, gagging.

Narration: first person.

Summary: you couldn't wait till Slash stops working, everything you wanted was him between your legs so you try to caught his attention until he couldn't resist you.

Narrator:

The click of her heels perks her husband's ears up with instinctive interest, but nothing else as he focuses on the task at hand. It's now late at night and the need for him to be in bed next to her is unyielding.

I saunter over to Slash for the third time tonight, my hand skimming the edge of the mahogany while observing his taut posture. I watch as his hands go to work, admiring the sinewy dance they make. The veins atop his hands scatter throughout, his tendons flexing as his wrist flicks while writing. Wear and tear decorate his hands beautifully, showing his proud age with scars and wrinkles. Long, masculine fingers grip the white and gold fountain pen I gifted him with such elegance, it almost makes me jealous of the pen. The gold adorning his fingers glistens under the only light source in the room, a stained-glass lamp on his desk.

Slash's eyes slyly shift over my form as I marvel at his hands, observing the lack of clothes I have on. My body is on full display under a sheer black babydoll set. White-hot arousal rises from his gut to his chest as he rakes over my bare breasts, honing in on the hard peaks of my nipples. Lower and lower, he inspects the translucency of my panties, he can see everything. He inhales irritably, wishing I wouldn't be right in front of him looking so appetizing when he has work to do.

"I'm busy," he says sternly, without looking at me.

My husband knows where this is going and in the back of his mind, he doesn't care. Ignoring his statement, I maneuver into his lap so that I'm facing him. He sighs as he has no choice but to look at me now. Nostrils flaring, eyebrows scrunching, he scowls me with another elongated sigh.

I situate my center over his crotch and his heart rate speeds up. Slash quickly pushes my torso against his own, almost as if he's trying to hide my face from his view. My head rests against his shoulder, unable to see his face as the hand at my upper back tells me to stay put with a strong force. Wrapping my arms around him, I hug him tightly while my hips start to slowly rotate over him. Immediately, my breathing is heavy against his ear, the blissful friction sliding across my clit, is amazing even over the thick material of his pants.

Slash gulps and fixates on a sentence he can't seem to read, too engrossed as he can feel how wet I am with the glide against his clothed cock. Gasps turn into low moans, my lower half rubbing him faster as he hardens underneath my barely-there panties. My slick splits my folds, causing the thick of him to nestle between my inner labia.

"But I want you." I say in a whisper.

His broad chest heaves, his breathing becoming heavy. My breasts squish against him, every inhale and exhale are felt with immense detail, and he can't help but be absorbed in it. Slash's brown eyes snap up to the chiming clock above the door ahead, signaling midnight has arrived. Stress plagues him all the while I'm taking it away. Time continues to slip his grasp, as does the pen in his hand. Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on with his efforts.

But I lean back and hastily unzip his pants. My meek hands reach beneath his boxers, feeling his hotness before pulling him out. Hot and hard, his thick cock stands with a curve in my hand. Resting at a high position, I hold him still while nudging away my panties. Slash rolls his full lips between his teeth with anticipation of what's to come, desire riddling his entire body. Rolling my hips upwards, my clit skims the ridge lining the underside of his length before I glide back down with the innermost wetness of my pussy.

"Oh, my damn god." I moan, clutching onto one of his shoulders tight to maintain stability.

Now breathing out of his mouth, he lets out a whisper of a groan as I paint his cock with my essence. My hand begins to massage his swollen tip, spreading the leaking precum. Shutting his eyes, he savors the sublime attention of my slippery fingers and wet pussy.

With a higher ascend, I suddenly spear myself on his shaft with a penetrating whine. Gravity pulls me toward his base with a sting to my stretching walls. The wrinkle between his brows deepens with a clench of his jaw, his eyes rolling back as my sweet pussy consumes him. Raising my hips to lessen the pain, I shallowly ride him until my wetness coats him enough to slam all the way down. Slash grunts and nearly abandons his pen but doesn't as he knows it'll be the end of this facade he's trying to maintain.

I work him up into a blazing abyss while he tries to use his resolve to persevere. The tip of his cock nearly hits my cervix with this position, filling me to the brim. The steady bounce I'm maintaining have me moaning in his ear, gradually unraveling by the second. His cologne invades my senses while burying my face in his neck, inhaling the thrilling scent with each intake of air. Panting, I cling to him with my tired legs, trying to wrap around him as I rock against him.

"Fuck babe, I- shit-" He moans out loud.

Each time I rise, my insides feel an emptiness I can't bear until the mighty stretch of sinking down gives the divine satisfaction of being full of him again.

"You like being a sluty girl for me, huh." He keeps moaning as he grabs my ass. "Feel how your cunt begs for my cock."

On his end, the heavenly scorch of the inferno that is my hot, wet, velveteen walls squeezing him feeds his carnal desire to penetrate me with control. Slowly, his hips start to buck upward, chasing the feeling of my saturated plushness. My high-pitched mewls indicate me impending release, the pulsating beat inside me becoming more frequent with each plunge.

"S- Slash, daddy...." I pule, the look on my face is grave as I pull back to look at him.

Seeing such desperation in my face makes him drop his pen without a single thought. Slash grabs my hips and lifts me to roughly slam up into my drenched cunt. Hissing, he eagerly leans back and devours the small contortions in my face. The pleasure between both of us increases tenfold as he controls the pace with my body and the power of his hips. Sure, I could ride him the whole night, but with Saul Hudson, it's an entirely different type of gratification only he can deliver. Slash drives into me like rapid-fire, ceaselessly slamming through my fluttering walls.

"What a desperate little cunt you have here," he says through clenched teeth, leching at my straining hole with a cocky tilt of his head. "Sucking me in like you can't live without my cock being buried inside you," he says with such poise it makes me lose it.

My jaw gapes open, letting out waves of wails that coax a vicious, almost painful speed of his hips. As my body recoils and quivers, my insides squeeze him.

"You're really cumming over that?" He roughly growls, his own orgasm hitting him. "Is my wife that much of a whore?" He snarls, his rough mouth intensifying my releases.

The tightness around him brings his release head-on and he sharply grunts before exhaling out a drawn-out groan. A hot rush surges through his shaft, resulting in thick strings glazing my insides. With impossible brute force, his hands clench around my hips hard enough to leave marks while pounding his spurting cock upward. Rolling waves of hot bliss wash over me as my cling to his solid body, the air being knocked out of me from his forceful thighs banging against me.

"Bab-e" the moans do not stop coming out of my mouth.

With a slight sneer to his mouth, Slash captures my lips in a fervid kiss, one that cuts my voice short. Tongues openly swirl around one another, moans and groans mixing in a harmonic cacophony.

"Holy shit, I'm gonna cum.... shit." he moans against my lips.

Sighing heavily through his nose, leftover jitters jolt his body with the last remnants of his orgasm hitting him. My walls gradually relax around him, hugging him while thick fluid flows from the junction between our bodies. Clutching onto him, I lift off him and feel as empty as ever without him. Standing on wobbly legs, I struggle to stand on the stilts of my heels. Warm semen seeps down my inner thigh, prompting me to look down at it. Slash catches the liquid with a finger, swiping it up as more drips down. Just the feeling of the pads of his fingers near my center nearly makes me topple over.

"Clean this mess," he orders, offering me his glossy fingers.

I gaze at him while opening my mouth, his fingers gliding to the back of my tongue. My lips close around his digits as his finger pulls out. Smiling, I lean over to kiss him but he stops me with a finger on my lips and a raised eyebrow.

"Did I not say clean this mess?" He repeats pitilessly.

I look down at his still hard, glistening cock as semen pools around his balls and trickle down his pants. Immediately, I sink down to my knees between his legs, licking my lips as I inspect the immense girth of him. Gingerly grabbing his base, my eyes snap up to his before licking collecting the hone he so graciously is giving to me with a fat stripe up his tall length. Slash's nostrils flare in arousal, watching me lick up his seed like a glazed candy. Even though it's bitter, it's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted as I see that he's enjoying himself.

The drip of his seed between my thighs distracts me every so often as it coats my skin in a glassy luster. My lovely tongue peeks from my lips tantalizingly as it slithers around the fat veins of his cock, smoothing over them deliciously. Reaching the tip, I lick the small slit at the top, collecting even more of the tasty liquid. While keeping his semen in the back of my mouth, I continue slurping up the mess all the way down to the bottom.

My husband lets out a hiss as my tongue cups one of his balls, softly sucking it into my mouth. A deep pinch between his brows appears and the muscles framing the back of his jaw flex as he pushes his hair back, revealing more of his handsome face. Almost breathless, he watches my mouth at his balls with an expression that spurs me on. With the acidic fluid now gone, I can't help but keep licking him until my lips reach the tip. I wrap my lips around the sensitive, swollen head and suck harder than he'd like, making his hips jerk up. He groans and snatches me by the hair, lifting me off him.

Leaning forward, he moves close to my face, tilting his head mockingly at me.

"I don't think you're in a position to toy with me when you are my toy babe," he muses, placing a finger over your closed mouth.

Slash grabs the frame of my jaw roughly, wedging his index and thumb between my teeth from the outside so my mouth opens. He smirks triumphantly seeing his release in my mouth.

"Swallow me," he orders.

I swallow the bittery goodness and stick my tongue out to show off my compliancy. Slash smiles, reclining against the chair and pulling my hair at the root. Jerking my face closer to his cock, he smashes my lips to his length before forcing my mouth over it. I whine as his cock drives through my parted lips, the fleshy hardness of it hitting the roof of my mouth. My brows scrunch while trying to not gag around him as he pushes me halfway down.

"I know you can take it all with that expert mouth of yours," he croons, holding my head down until he feels my throat open up for him. "That's it, my girl, my babygirl."

His thickness penetrates my throat and I concentrate on breathing properly without gagging. Bobbing my head atop his cock, his fingers tighten in my hair with each thrust, getting lost in the feel of my mouth and throat. Slash's eyebrows quirk up as my moans pitch higher, wondering why I'm enjoying this more than usual. Through the gap between my mouth and his cock, he can see that my pussy is still oozing his cum. With a smug grin, he moves his leather loafer below me, raising the tip of it to skim my drooling center. Gasping, I moan against his cock as he rubs my clit against his shoe.

"Nasty girl, getting turned on by her husband's shoe," he sneers, pushing me further down his cock until my nose is buried in his black pubes. "Does my cock taste good knowing my seed is spilling from you?" He growls, increasing the pace of my head.

I whine, his cock muffling my voice. Tears begin to break the barrier of my lashes and stream down thickly, making for a wonderful view of my struggling face. He rubs my pussy tauntingly slow, patting my entrance with a vile gush. Though he's teasing me, he's ultimately riling himself up further as he twinges in my throat.

"Since your little pussy can't keep my seed in, I think I need to refill it again, tesoro," he coos, pulling me off his cock with a nasty pop.

Strings fall down my chin, my lips glossy and my cheeks full of tears. I nod and he smiles warmly through the heat of his impending release.

"But you have to promise me that you won't bother me again like this if I do," he says.

"Okay, daddy." I reply.

Slash smiles, helping me up with attentive hands, and in the back of his mind, he knows full well I'm lying. Picking me up and placing me atop his desk, he hikes my right leg against his torso with my heel cresting his wide shoulder. Leering brown eyes roam my filthy thighs while curling a possessive arm around my thigh, dragging my bottom to the edge of the desk. My palms splay on top of the desk beside me as I sit up, wanting a good look at him while he plows me. The tips of his fingers slip a bit, prompting him to delve his fingers deep into the flesh of my inner thigh to keep a strong grip over me. Standing straight, the desk is a perfect height for him to align his cock up with my entrance without having to dip his body low. My other leg rests against the wood, bent with an inviting spread to my legs.

I stare up at him with wanting eyes and he can't help but fall deeper in love with me with that expression. He lays the curvature of his cock against my slit, making me moan before moving back his hips. With the head of his cock trailing lower to my hole, he slams into me with a roll of his eyes. His cock glides in with little to no resistance as the mixture of fluids in me make for a sensuous massage. I squeal, my hands nearly slipping from the powerful thrust. Placing his free hand on my other thigh, he grips it hard before pulling out and driving back in. My little whimpers turn into hiccup moans, tears quickly returning to my lashline as he hits me deep. Slash loves the fact that he can control the pleasure in me, experience with each thrust as if he has my emotions in the palm of his hand.

"This is what you wanted? Honey." he mumbled.

"Not enough, I need more daddy." I faced him

His features quickly hardened.

"You need more? Okay sweetheart, you're gonna have more so."

Gritting his teeth, he watches me spread around him as I did earlier, this time though, he's quicker than ever as he nears his release. Strands of his bangs fall back down to his forehead, leaving his hair perfectly messy with each undulating sway. Tip to base, he makes me feel every detail of him, sinking into me so deep he brushes the crest of my cervix.

Oh god.

The thick veins coiling around his cock beat in tandem with his heart, his cock head throbbing and leaking profusely with precum. Ducking his head low, he rests his forehead against mine, his nose rubbing the side of us as he fervently fucks me.

"Squeeze me like you always do babe," he growls, placing a thumb over my clit and rotating. My walls instantly tighten and he groans needily. "Just like that, you're perfect," he says hastily, giving me his all.

Striking my bottom with his hips with a loud clap, he pounds into me vehemently, relishing in the sweet squelch between my legs. Parted lips meet in an opened mouth kiss, one that is lazy as the two of us begin to swiftly unravel. The tips of my tongues twirl together hotly before he retracts his muscle earlier than expected, his breath labored as his hips move on their own.

"Gonna stuff you full with my seed," he mumbles through clenched teeth.

Slash slams against me with a terrifyingly crash, jolting my body within his tight grasp. The urge to fill me is strong and so he snaps into me ferociously, ejaculating inside of me once more. His cock pulses inside of me with a coaxing sensation, drowning me in a wash of bliss. His thumb relentlessly rubs my clit through his strenuous efforts, wanting me to have the utmost pleasure imaginable. Wrapping his arms around me, he desperately hugs me to his body as he can barely pull out of my rippling walls, eager to stay buried inside me. With each thrust, he hisses sharply, sensitive, and in awe of how I can just disarm him so easily just by coming into his study.

He swallows thickly before holding me and crashing back down in the chair as it creaks loudly.

"I don't think this chair is going to last if we keep this up," he chuckles gruffly, idly skimming my back with his fingertips. 

[implexedactions]

Naga Enji - Halloween Collab

Hey! So this was part of a server wide event I did with other members of Lovesick! They’re all super amazing and you should DEF check out the others who took part!

I really like this one!

Warning for yandere content

Beta’d by best person:  @tod0oki

[Edited after posting]

---

You walked calmly through the forest, admiring the lush foliage. It really was a nice spot to spend the day. You came here a lot; it was relaxing and serene. The area didn’t have any trails, but it was an easy walk, regardless. Looking up, you noticed clouds were starting to gather. Hmmm, yeah, okay, better head back to the entrance. It was going to be late enough already; you didn’t want to have to deal with rain.

Before you could leave, you noticed a cave. It caught your interest, and you moved towards the entrance, it seemed to be quite deep.

“Hello, human.” A deep voice called out from the darkness.

“W-what?! Whose in there?” you shakily question.

“How much do you know of Naga’s?” The voice called back from the darkness, still not visible.

“Oh. This is a joke, right? Well, I’m not in the mood. And I’d suggest you head back soon, rain clouds are starting to form, and it looks like it’ll be bad.”

“Oh, but this is not a joke. I…I am real.’

A snake person emerges from the darkness, his human body has short jagged red hair and a scar near on his face. His human half ends around the waist, before turning into a striking red, orange, white, and black snake body, like a red-spotted garter snake. His torso and shoulders are broad, which makes his snake body huge. The diameter of his snake body is the same height as you. He is giant, over 10 meters long. You try to step back but fall instead.

“I…but…you’re…snake?” You stammer, failing to deal with the reality presented in front of you

“Naga, you uneducated primate. And I have taken a tremendous interest in you.” He says, slithering closer, eyeing your form.

“Me…? But…why?” you say, your feet finding purchase on the ground, trying to move away from him. Shoving you away from him, just a tiny bit.

He looks disappointed at you trying to move away from him. He reaches to grab your ankle, but you kick his hand away. He jerks away before looking you in the eyes, glaring at you.

“How dare you! Do you have no respect?! You should feel honoured that I chose to even approach you!” He says, looking outraged and annoyed.

“Why DID you approach me?” you say cautiously, realising how unfavourable this situation is for you.

“Well, I need to talk to my mat- I mean…visitor. Yes, you are my visitor. You stepped foot into my cave, that makes you my visitor.” He says hastily, slowly moving around your form, which was still lying on the ground.

 “I…uhhh…I need to leave, it’s going to rain soon, and I need to make it back to the forest entrance.” You try to stand up, but a large hand on your shoulder keeps you in place.

“Oh, I insist, please stay with me for the night. You deserve my hospitality” He says, still moving around you in a…circle.

Oh dear…

You force yourself up.

“Oh no, I need to make it back. I’ve got…people waiting for me, yeah! T-They’ll get concerned if I don’t show up!” It was a lie, but he shouldn’t know that.

He sighs, the circle around you now completed. His snake body is about as tall as your shoulders, so you can’t jump over it. He towers above you, looking down on you

“Uhmm…Can’t help notice that you’ve accidentally encircled me here. Can you let me go? I can come back to visit if you want? I promise?” you say, nervously looking around.

His face falls into an unimpressed bored look.

“Hmmph, I wanted to give you a few peaceful nights, to show you how nice life with me could be, but I guess you don’t want that. Such a shame, but you will grow to love it, I am sure.”

His arms grab you, despite your weak flailing, and he pulls you into his chest. You go quiet as you pray this is all a bad dream. He slithers slowly further down into the cave, the darkness growing. He seems to know his way, though. He brings your head up to his face and looks into your eyes.

“My name is Enji Todoroki, one of the strongest Naga’s, a fierce hunter surpassed by no one. You are my mate; I promise that I will treasure and protect you like no other.”

He arrives at the end of one of the tunnels. It is a large open semi-spherical area with a fire in the middle. He circles around the fire, and places you inside the circle, next to the fire.

“I know humans are not as resistant to the cold as I am, please, utilise this fire. The rain will not disturb us here.” He says, eyes trained on your every move.

You try to jump over his colossal snake body, but you struggle to get over it. He simply leans over and grabs you, before forcing you to sit down next to the fire. He leans in close, resting his mouth by your ear.

“You know, my mate does not technically NEED legs. If you would like to keep yours, I do suggest that you stay put.” He leans back, resting his human body on his snake half, keeping the coil around you complete.

“O-okay…I just…I don’t want to be here?” you say, pulling your legs up to your chest, crying into your arms.

He looks at you, anger surging through his veins. He grabs you by the shoulders and stares deep into your eyes.

“Why not! Do you think I cannot provide?! I am insulted! I have lived hundreds of years on my own! I am the most skilled hunter ever! Obviously I can provide for my mate!”

You quickly try to reassure him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sure you can provide for me!”

He scans your face, then hugs you and calms down.

“Of course, of course. You do not know me yet. You can live a great life here; I am certain of it. Just do not tell me I cannot provide for you. It is one of the most disrespectful things to a naga, okay? You did not know that, so I forgive you.”

“T-Thank you?”

“Do not fear! I will show you how comfortable a life you can lead in the coming years with me! You will be happy, I guarantee it!” He looks at you as if waiting for validation.

“But…I have a human life, and I have other human needs?” You try to put as much softness into this as possible, you think there is a chance he might let you go. His face darkens briefly.

“As I just said, do NOT suggest I cannot provide for you. You will be fine here, I can offer everything you require! Humans rely on a few critical things for survival, but all of these things will not be a problem for a naga like me! I will easily provide food and water; we have this cave for shelter from the elements. I can defend you, that takes care of safety! And as for your need for friends, family and community, well, you have got me obviously. And you will have the hatchlings and-“

“Wait? What do you mean hatchlings?!” you go stiff, staring at him with concern. You hope it doesn’t mean what you think it means

“Well, I suppose humans call them babies, and humans don’t lay eggs…but hatchlings sound so much better, no?” He seems to ponder it for a second while looking away from you.

“But I-“

“Oh wait, is your concern because of anatomy? Do not worry darling! I do not know much about human reproduction admittedly, so I do not know if we can produce children together. If we can, great! If not, I will just steal another’s hatchlings. The important part is having a family together.’

“I don’t WANT kids you freak! Especially with you!” He frowns, his eyebrows twitching. The silence in the cave is overwhelming.

“Do not say things one will regret. Like I said earlier, you do not need to have legs to be my mate.”

“I just don’t want kids!” His glare hardens as he stands up to his full height. Towering over you, looking down at you from his nose.

“Listen to me. I will not have my mate be some ungrateful brat. We WILL have hatchlings. They WILL all grow up to be fierce hunters like me and carry on my legacy! And you WILL stop complaining about it! It would be wise for you to accept that.” His eyes peer at your now sobbing figure.

His face softens, and his body down dips to your level. He reaches out and pulls you against his chest, trapping you against it with his arms. He slowly strokes your back.

“Shhh…Shhh…It will all be okay. There is no need to cry. Do you want some food? I can go get a cow for you? I know humans try to cook their food, so we could use the fire?” He looks down at you with empathetic eyes.

“I…I just want to go home! You realise I won’t be happy here, right? You should find a naga mate instead. Please!” Your eyes are watering as you meet his gaze.

“I love you, my dear. I watched you walk by every time you come to this forest. Your beauty, your gait, your personality. You were so appealing, I was trying to find the perfect time to introduce myself, but then I saw this storm, and you walked up to my cave and…I took a chance.”

He looks at you, but you stay silent.

“I meant what I said, darling. That I wanted your first night or two to be calm and happy. I think you would have adjusted so much better if you had just accepted my invitation. I will admit I came on a bit strong there, but I was so worried you would never come back. I just could not let you leave when you were so close to being mine.” His tears run down his face and drip onto your head. He wipes his eyes.

“Please love me, that is all I am asking. The hatchlings can…wait. It was wrong to bring them up so soon…just…please love me. I love you.” He gets his face close to yours, mere inches away from yours. His slit eyes looking directly into your circular eyes. You can see his eyes watering, as he scans yours.

“I can’t love you though…Especially not with the fact you clearly want kids. I have a life that I NEED to live. I can’t live out my life with you. Please, just let me go.”

“But I can provide for you! I can provide everything you need! No human can match what I can give you! I am certain of it!” His body seems to be heating up as his posture straightens and his arms around you get a bit too tight.

“But I-”

“Silence!” He roars, before looking down at your scared form. Confusion crosses his face before he cools down.

“Ah, I understand! You do not mean to be so rude and inconsiderate; you are just tired. It is understandable. Do not worry, my love, let us sleep.” He doesn’t let you speak as he uses his tail to put out the fire. Darkness returns as he slithers into a corner.

He forms a coil inward with his human body and you at the centre, his back lying against his tail. He crosses his arms, hands at opposite shoulders in an ‘X’ or ‘W’ like pattern, with you in the middle. This prevents you from moving, keeping you trapped against his chest.

“You will love me in time, I am certain.”