#I was actually excited to animate this one until I made the grave mistake of lining shadow with the paint brush tool instead of the brush.

[hydrossity-zone]

[5/19/2024]

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

-

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

[fanfics4all]

Requests are open! Here's some Prompts!

Angst Prompts

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“You know it’s not like that.”

“How could you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”

“You’re never going to be the same after this.”

“I just think it’d be best if we never met.”

“I can’t believe you would even think to leave me like this.”

“You never loved me, did you?”

“It didn’t have to be like this, but now you’ve ruined everything.”

“I hope you’re happy.”

“If you had have kept your mouth shut, then he’d still- he’d still be here!”

“What did you want once this was all through? Tell me!”

“Now I have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Thanks, it means a lot.”

“You could’ve- could’ve stayed. You could’ve helped me fix things.”

“I knew she’d never change, she was too stubborn, too similar to me.”

“This isn’t going to be fixed. You’ve ruined this for good now.”

“I hope I’m not put in the same part of hell as you.”

“When did you think you could hurt me again? Today? Tomorrow?”

“You’re back in my life and I want to die again.”

“You only ever brought me pain and I’m sick of it.”

“I hope you got what you wanted.”

“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

“When you die, I’ll be the first to dance on your grave.”

“Don’t underestimate me, I have more power than you can even comprehend.”

“If only you knew what you’d brought upon yourself.”

“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“There is nothing worse than seeing you get what you want.”

“Your mind must be a horrible place.”

“You can cut me, bruise me and skin me alive, but you will not take her from me.”

“How is it that we always end up in this predicament?”

“I want to wipe that grin of your face with my sword, but my mother taught me to play nicely.”

“Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.”

“Ah, well if you want them back alive, I suggest you lay down your own life.”

“Don’t be ‘smart’. The battlefield is no place for Math Scholars.”

“You shouldn’t have come. You can’t be-”

“Stop talking or tomorrow won’t come.”

“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

“I shouldn’t care for your life, but I’m starting to and it’s becoming an inconvenience.”

“If you live to see her, please send my best regards and this box of her father’s ashes.”

“It would’ve been nice to get to know you better, but I’m afraid I don’t care.”

“I can’t help but think you’re a terrible person.”

“Seeing your face has unconventionally made me want to die. I wasn’t quite prepared for this feeling.”

“You could have loved me, I’m quite good at seducing, but you’re actually vile.”

“I hope I see you in a bodybag sometime.”

“Let’s pretend you didn’t cheat on me with my sister and be good people for a few minutes.”

“We should probably stop talking forever.”

“If I hated you anymore, I think I’d probably be crowned as satan’s right-hand man.”

“To say I ‘tolerate you’ is a vast overstatement.”

“You broke her heart and came back for more, you bastard.”

“This isn’t fifth grade, this is a courtroom, you whore.”

“I think you’d be the perfect match for my ex-husband. He loved to sleep with multiple people.”

“I’m not coming home, don’t look for me.”

“Time was always a measurement of this relationship and we finally ran out.”

“Please don’t look at me with such hatred.”

“I could’ve died and you couldn’t have cared less.”

“Just get out. I- I don’t want you here, just leave.”

“You’re not the same person I married, don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“I wish you wouldn’t beg for forgiveness, it has the opposite effect of what you want.”

“Don’t hate me for this. You would’ve done the same.”

“This could’ve been the end and you were ready to let me go.”

“You should’ve left me, you could never deserve the person I’ve become.”

“Hate me all you want. I know I’m right.”

“Today you broke my arm, I hope tomorrow it’s not my heart.”

“Nothing can justify this, you’ve ruined him.”

“You live with so much guilt, I hope it drives you mad one of these days.”

“My life was ruined because of one mistake. You were that mistake.”

“You are everything I hate, don’t ever come back.”

“Evil doesn’t come close.”

“Your wrongdoings are becoming your pastimes.”

“I wish you had of just done it for the thrill of it, but now you’re in deep shit.”

“Next time, I won’t be here to salvage your wreckage. This is the last time.”

“You should have ruined me when you had the chance.”

“No one will keep your name alive. Once you’re gone, everything you once stood for disappears too.”

“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about your life without me.”

“This is always how it ends.”

“Break my heart once more, I dare you.”

“Forget how you loved me once, I mean nothing now.”

“This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, this is real life and I can go on without you.”

“You don’t own me, I don’t belong to you.”

“I should’ve died. That would’ve made you happy.”

“Are we going to carry on like this or are you going to give him back to me.”

“She drowned and he lost his mind.”

“We shouldn’t. You’re married and I’m pregnant.”

“You’ve never been loved, I can tell.”

“Who told you I needed fixing and what made you believe them?”

“You’re almost as far-gone as I am.”

“Maybe it’s best that we don’t go home.”

“Roaming the streets was never safe for her. What makes you think it’s different for you?”

“I think you’re going to ruin me. Am I right?”

“Do you remember our last feud? I wouldn’t want someone to lose their life again, would you?”

“Kiss me quick and leave them be.”

“I hate seeing you so sad. It’s just so dramatic how humans show emotions and being sad is such a boring one.”

“Will you ever forget my number? No? Ah, because you still love me.”

“After the funeral, let’s surrender.”

“What made you think I cared for you?”

“It’ll be fun explaining this to your sister. I hope she likes horror stories.”

“Don’t act as if we’re friends. I know how much you want to slit my throat.”

“Let’s not get angry. Let’s calmly and sensibly take this outside so I can ruin your face.”

“Please ruin yourself for me and I’ll watch in adoration as I fall apart as well.”

Fluff Prompts

“I missed being with you like this,”

“I’ve been excited to see you all day.”

“You’re my perfect match,”

“No one else can compare to your loveliness,”

“The way you smile like that always turns me on,”

“Can I at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment I come home,”

“I know you said you didn’t want to be late, but you look amazing, and I’m trying not to kiss you senseless right now,”

“I’ll keep you warm. Hold me closer.”

“Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

“Can I have a message?”

“Truth or Dare?” “Dare”

“Move away if you don’t want this kiss.”

“If you keep kissing my face like that I’ll have to retaliate.”

“Are you my secret admirer, the one that’s been sending me all the flowers and notes?”

“Does this kiss tickle~? Haha. Why are you laughing so much?”

“You’re supposed to be washing my hair, but this feels more like a massage.”

“Hold my hand tight. I’ll protect you.”

“When do you think help will come?” “Not for a while, I guess we’re stranded here alone for the time being.”

“Can you pretend to be my partner for my friend’s wedding? I told them I’d have a plus one.”

“I’m in love with you.” “Are you finally confessing to me? Because I feel the same way.”

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

"I want you back."

"You need to stop calling me that."

"You did not just boop me."

"You lost me in a crowd once!" "It's not my fault you're so short!"

"We should get a puppy."

“Hurry up! It has eight legs and therefore will crawl faster than normal!"

"Kiss me." "Not with that morning breath."

"So, will you marry me?"

"How'd you do that?" "Magic."

"It's my happy juice."

"You did not just mimic me."

"I'm on my period and I want chocolate. Now go."

"I left you for five minutes."

"Tell me why I deal with you again?"

"Kiss it better. Please.”

Smut Prompts

“Try to stay quiet for me. Can you do that?”

“Spread your legs. I want to feel how turned on I made you.”

“You can add another finger. I’m ready,”

“I want to watch you take off your clothes.”

“You’re so turned on already? That was fast,”

“Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”

“You want to do this right now? Even though we could get caught?”

“You’re nipples are so sensitive today,”

“Do you want to continue this in the shower?”

“You look so beautiful tied up to my bed,”

“I want you to be rough with me, please leave marks on my skin,”

“Say my name,” “Louder,”

“You say you want me, but your body seems to like it when I tease you,”

“Call me ‘Sir’ when we’re alone like this,”

“No, I’m the one that’s supposed to be making you feel good,”

“Don’t stop, whatever you do. I like that, a lot.”

“I love hearing you moan,”

“Blindfolds heighten your senses, maybe that’s why you’re whimpering louder than usual.”

“I was wondering how long you two were going to make out like that before you realize you weren’t alone.”

“Sorry, did that hurt?” “No, I’m just a little sore from last night.”

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

“I’m not wearing any panties,”

“I want to kiss every inch of your body before I fuck you,”

“I don’t have the patience to remove your clothes right now,”

“Your pussy tastes so sweet,”

“I can’t wait until we’re alone. There are so many things I want to do to you right now.”

“Bite me,” “Where?”

“Were you just touching yourself?”

“What do you want for breakfast?” “Why are you asking me that at 10 o’clock at night-OH.”

“The game is, either of us is only allowed to touch the other with their mouth.”

“I love how your body loses control when you cum.”

“Fuck me like a starved animal or leave.”

“Spank me,”

“Show me how you like to be touched.”

“Harder, Deeper…”

“I want to fulfill that fantasy you’ve always wanted.”

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: “tricked into 7 minutes in heaven at a party” AU with willex, where theyre close friends and apart of the same friend group, and their friends know they both like each other and are tired of watching them dance around each other so they devise a plan to have a party and play seven minutes in heaven, and get them to be alone together in a closet or room or something. so a sort of getting together/modern AU with some kissing cause the boys deserve it?

I had to Google what 7 Minutes In Heaven is. Anyway!! I love this prompt so much, it’s so so sweet. We love some getting together fluff. Thank you so much for suggesting it!

Title from Alone by Heart.

The Secret Is Still My Own

Alex could have kicked himself for not realising what this was much earlier. It was probably Luke’s idea. Maybe Julie’s – she could be sneaky when she wanted to be. It didn’t really matter who had devised the plan, all that Alex was worried about now was the fact that he was about to spend seven minutes locked in a small room with Willie and the likelihood was that it was going to be utterly dreadful.

A few months ago when Alex and Willie had first met, it wouldn’t have been so awful. Their friendship had been fresh and exciting and there had been an easy banter flowing between the two of them that made Alex feel light and giddy. He had been glad to spend time with Willie then, looking for every excuse to hang out with him because who wouldn’t? Willie was funny, kind, intelligent, and everything good in the world. Alex would have been mad to not want to spend time with him. It didn’t take long for Alex to realise he was falling for Willie, quickly and with no signs of stopping.

And he made the grave mistake of telling that to Luke.

“Dude,” Luke had said, grabbing Alex’s shoulders. “You gotta ask him out!”

“What? No!” Alex had protested. He tried to wriggle free but Luke’s grip was like iron and he gave up after a moment or two. “I don’t want to. I like being friends with him.”

“Yeah, but imagine if you were more than friends,” Luke pressed, grinning wildly. “It’s not like he’d say no – he’s head over heels for you, man.”

“He is?”

“I think so.”

“That’s not proof,” Alex deadpanned. “You also thought that if you ate watermelon seeds one would grow inside you. Then you cried when Reggie ate them.”

“That was ages ago!” Luke whined.

“It was last week, but alright.”

“Alright, fine, I’m a bad example,” Luke admitted. “But what if I told you that Julie thinks Willie likes you?”

Alex considered it for a moment. Julie was definitely more reliable than Luke, and where Luke was almost definitely guessing about whether or not Willie had feelings for Alex, Julie had probably spoken to Willie herself to find out. So he shrugged and gave Luke a short nod.

“Does she think so?” he asked, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

“Dude,” Luke scoffed. “She was the one to point it out to me. You and Willie are made for each other, bro! Ask him out or I’ll have to do it for you.”

Alex hadn’t asked Willie out. It hadn’t been because he didn’t want to or because he didn’t think Luke and Julie were right – it was because he simply didn’t know how. How was he supposed to go up to Willie, a literal angel, and ask him on a date without spontaneously combusting? He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, not in front of Willie.

He had thought that Luke was joking about getting Alex and Willie together himself. That had, of course, been an incredibly naïve thing to believe. When Luke said he’d do something, he meant it – Alex should have learnt that from the time Luke had said he would lick an electric fence and then followed through immediately and without hesitation. So really he shouldn’t have been surprised when Luke made it his mission to get Alex and Willie together.

The first time it had happened was when Alex and Willie were hanging out alone in the studio. They had been talking, just catching up with each other, and it had been nice. Willie had been halfway through a story about one of the kids at the nursery he worked part-time at when all of a sudden the lights in the studio had dimmed and slow, romantic music had begun drifting from the stereo in the corner.

Willie had looked utterly bemused, a quiet half-smile gracing his features. “What’s all this?”

“I don’t know,” Alex told him, standing up and flicking the lights back on, then going to the stereo and turning the music down all the way. “Sorry about that. It’s never happened before.”

“You mean you didn’t set it up?” Willie asked.

“No,” Alex replied, looking around the studio. Unsurprisingly, he had spotted Luke in the attic, hidden amongst the beanbags, the stereo’s remote in his hands. He didn’t even have the good grace to look guilty, instead giving Alex a cheery wave.

“Oh,” Willie had said. His tone made Alex turn to face him – there was something in it he couldn’t quite put a name to. “Okay. Anyway, so, as I was saying…”

Luke’s plans had not improved from then on. He had pulled the classic “invite both of them to hang out but don’t show up so they’re just spending time together one-on-one”, he had dedicated an entire setlist to Willie at their most recent gig and told the entire crowd that it had been Alex’s idea, and every time Alex and Willie had a conversation he would find a way to muscle in and very unsubtly suggest they go on a date.

It was making Alex’s life a misery.

Because now every time he saw Willie felt painstakingly awkward. The both of them were just waiting for Luke to show up and do whatever he’d planned, after which they’d be steeped in brittle, tense silence until one of them found an excuse to back out of the situation. The ease and light-heartedness their friendship had once been built on was pretty much shot to pieces. Alex knew that Luke meant well, but he was almost certain that he had ruined everything.

It didn’t help that Luke had got Julie, Reggie, and Flynn in on it too, though they were much less heavy-handed than he was when it came to getting them together. Reggie’s main tactic was ask if they’d been on a date yet every time he saw them but leave it alone once they said no, while Julie and Flynn tended to talk to Alex away from Willie and try and convince him that they were, in Flynn’s words, a match made in heaven.

“He totally wants you to ask him out,” Flynn gushed on one of these occasions. “Did you see the way he was looking at you earlier? He’s in love.”

“Things are awkward enough between us as it is,” Alex had explained. “I’m not going to make it worse by asking him out.”

“Well, maybe you don’t need to ask him on a date,” Julie suggested, ever the voice of reason. Alex inwardly thanked her – at least somebody was on his side. “But I do think you need to at least talk about what’s going on between you.”

He revoked his inward thank-you.

“We don’t need to talk,” Alex insisted. “If we just leave it alone then the problem will eventually go away.”

“That’s always your solution,” Julie said.

“And it never works,” Flynn added.

“If you just face your feelings head-on and actually try communicating with him you might get somewhere,” Julie said. Alex looked at her and knew she was telling the truth – her eyes were wide and kind, her mouth set into a gentle smile, and she looked as if she wanted nothing more than to help Alex. “You’ve been dancing around each other for so long, all you need to do is figure out where you both are. Trust me.”

He had shrugged inelegantly and let Flynn change the direction of the conversation, grateful to be talking about something else.

But he hadn’t taken Julie’s advice. Talking to Willie was difficult. Their banter was all but gone and their conversations lasted no more than a few minutes at most. It was a lot easier when they were with all their friends, in a big group where they could talk to others, which had been exactly the reason that Alex wasn’t worried about the impromptu party Julie had invited everyone to that night.

And look where it had got him.

It had been Luke who suggested it during a lull in conversation.

“Why don’t we play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

The suggestion had been met with excited ‘ooooh’s from most of the group sat around the studio, all except Alex. The last time he’d played Seven Minutes in Heaven had been in middle school – he had been locked in a closet with a girl in his class, she had kissed him incredibly awkwardly, he had blurted “I’m too gay for this” and fallen ungracefully out of the closet with six minutes still left on the clock. While that had been years and years ago, the memory still burned with embarrassment.

“Count me out,” he said. “That game is cursed.”

“I think you’re thinking of Bloody Mary in the Mirror,” Reggie supplied. “That game is cursed. This one’s just a bit of fun.”

“Absolutely not,” Alex said, shaking his head. “You guys can play, I’m staying out of it.”

“Oh, come on, Alex,” whined Luke, “everyone has to play! Otherwise it’s no fun.”

“You might not even get picked,” Julie said helpfully.

“But also you might,” Luke added.

Alex looked around the room at his friends – Reggie was smiling encouragingly, Luke looked put-out that Alex had even thought about refusing, Julie and Flynn were looking at him with hope and excitement in their eyes that he really didn’t want to crush, and Willie… Willie was avoiding eye contact altogether.

He didn’t know what it was that did it, but finally he relented. “I’ll play.”

Luke punched the air triumphantly and began entering everyone’s names into a generator he’d brought up on his phone. Alex watched with bated breath as the little wheel spun, slowing down until it landed on a name. The screen lit up with an over-the-top fireworks animation and the name ‘WILLIE’ in garish bubble writing.

Alex didn’t look at Willie, but he did feel his own insides squirm. What if he was picked next? He wasn’t sure he could last seven minutes alone with Willie. What was he supposed to talk about? What was he supposed to do? How was he meant to act like it wasn’t the most awkward thing he’d ever done especially after everything that had happened in the past few months?

Luke set the spinner off again and Alex watched nervously as it ticked through all the names. The firework animation lit up the screen again and when it was cleared the name ‘ALEX’ was left behind, glowing in all its bubble writing glory.

He tried not to sigh in defeat and he stayed put, no matter how much he wanted to leg it from the room and never come back.

“Alright then!” Julie said, clapping her hands and beaming. “Alex and Willie! You guys feeling up for this?”

Alex didn’t have an answer, but it appeared that Willie did. He stood up and offered a hand to pull Alex to his feet too, smiling gently.

“I’m ready,” he said, though Alex didn’t miss the waver in his voice. “How about you, hotdog?”

He could feel his friends’ eyes boring into him like lasers, but kept his own eyes trained on Willie, searching his expression with no idea what he was actually searching for. Eventually though, he gave a resolute nod and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

“You can go into the bathroom,” Julie said, pointing towards the little room at the back of the studio. “You’ll have to lock the door yourselves.”

Alex nodded and mutely followed Willie into the bathroom. He shut and locked the door behind them, then flicked the light-switch on. Immediately, Willie flicked it back off.

“Why can’t we have the lights on?” he asked. “I can’t see you.”

“Those are the rules, hotdog,” Willie returned. His voice sounded like it was coming from the opposite side of the room, but Alex couldn’t be sure. After all, he couldn’t see anything.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he slid himself down the wall to sit on the floor. He had no reason to feel so nervous right then; he’d been alone with Willie a thousand times, this didn’t have to be any different just because it was in a small dark room and they had a time limit ticking over their heads. Admittedly, he hadn’t been alone with Willie all that often recently, but he shouldn’t have been too out of practise.

“So,” he ventured, rubbing his hands along his legs, hoping the repetitive movements would dull his nerves. “What do you want to talk about?”

Willie was silent for a moment and Alex was sure that he’d somehow already put a foot wrong. Briefly, he considered unlocking the door and trying to leave very quietly so that Willie wouldn’t notice, but he realised quickly that plan wouldn’t work because he would never get past his friends in the studio. All he could do was stick it out for six and a half more minutes.

But mercifully, Willie finally spoke.

“Things have been weird recently, huh, hotdog?”

It teased a laugh from Alex, if only a small one. Because yes. Yes, things had been incredibly weird and he hated it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “it’s been weird. I’m sorry about Luke and the others.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Willie said. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and found himself relaxing. “It doesn’t really bother me. But… I mean, it seemed like it was bothering you. I’ve been trying to give you a little space but I don’t know if that’s what you want.”

“No,” Alex said, far too quickly. He tried to rein himself in a little, not wanting things to descend back into that dangerous awkward territory. “No, I don’t want you to give me space. I really like hanging out with you, Willie. I don’t want to stop that. I just wish they’d stop teasing.”

There was another pause, smaller this time, barely perceptible.

“Why?” Willie asked quietly.

“Because,” Alex began, but he quickly found himself lost for words.

How was he supposed to explain it to Willie when he found it hard to explain it to himself? He didn’t like their teasing because he was scared. He didn’t like their teasing because he didn’t want to make Willie uncomfortable. He didn’t like their teasing because this thing, whatever it was, between him and Willie was theirs and only theirs and he wanted to keep it between that way. Because he wanted to make these decisions on his terms, not when his friends decided he should.

“Because?” Willie prompted.

Alex swallowed his pride and his nerves and made himself speak.

“Because I really like you, Willie. And when our friends try and find ways to get us together it just feels awful because I want to do it myself. I don’t want them to intervene or mess this up. I want to do it my way. They keep saying that you like me too – is that true?”

Silence again. Alex could hardly stand it.

“Yeah,” Willie said finally. With that single word Alex felt like he could breathe more easily than ever before. “I do. Like you, I mean. And I get it. I’m sorry this whole thing has been such a mess.”

Alex huffed a laugh. “Blame Luke.”

“Oh, I will,” Willie replied through a chuckle.

Alex heard him shuffle across the bathroom floor and felt their sides press together as Willie came to sit next to him. Without thinking he laid his head down on Willie’s shoulder, then felt Willie rest his head on his in return.

“So,” Alex said again. “What does this mean for us?”

“What do you want it to mean?” Willie asked teasingly, the smile on his face evident in his voice.

“Are we dating?” he asked. He could feel his own smile tugging at his lips as Willie slipped an arm around his shoulders.

He felt Willie press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “Yes, Alex. We’re dating.”

Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the dark room, maybe it was the rush of adrenaline he got from hearing Willie day the words “we’re dating”, but something gave him a warm and welcome rush of courage and he said, before he could think better of it, “Can I kiss you?”

“Well,” Willie said, “I think that’s what usually happens in this game.”

“I don’t want to kiss you because of the game,” Alex told him. He knew Willie was probably joking, but he wanted to be certain. He wanted to make it clear that none of this was because of the game (mainly because Luke had probably rigged it somehow and Alex still wanted to do this his own way). He needed to show that this was for Willie and for himself, nothing else.

“I know,” Willie said gently. “I don’t either. I just want to kiss you.”

Alex slid a hand up to cup Willie’s jaw and they slowly came together. Willie’s lips were softer than Alex thought should be allowed, the kiss gentle and slow. It felt perfect, like fireworks had been lit in Alex’s soul (though much better fireworks than the terrible animation on Luke’s random selector wheel). He felt Willie’s fingers knot through his hair and pull them closer together.

It hadn’t gone the way Alex would have really liked. He didn’t get to ask Willie out on his terms. But from now on, with Willie as his boyfriend, they could do everything else on their terms. They could go at their own speed, hand-in-hand, with no ticking time limit set by their friends. They could move at their own pace with nobody but each other.

And Alex could breathe easy.

*

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @teammightypen @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright 

[chibinekochan]

How to become a Demon Ruler 108

Part:   01 I 02  I 03  I 04 I 05  I 06 I 07 I 

GN. Reader insert

taglist:  @ayesha95    ;  @nomnomcupcakesworld ;  @fex-phoenix   ; @depressed-bixch ;   @kitsune-oji

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

The rest of this lesson goes smoothly, but I'm glad it's over. 

  I glance nervously at Barbatos, who is correcting my work. It looks like he makes countless corrections. 

  I feel sweat building up along my spine. 

  "You did very well for your first lesson. Just go over the corrections until lunch, and you will be fine." Barbatos hands me the stack of papers back. 

"I thought you would say some more since you corrected so much." I feel relieved but also a bit unsure of how to take this. 

"Most of my corrections were minor mistakes in the language, but I can not hold these against you since you have just arrived here. I was prepared for more grave mistakes, to be honest. You once again surpassed my expectations." Barbatos smiles at me, slightly proudly. 

I start to wonder if his expectations for me are just remarkably low but take the compliment regardless. 

  I review the corrections, and then it's finally time to eat. 

Lunch is delicious as always. 

  "I have some good news for you. I have talked with Lucifer, and he agreed to let you meet one of his brothers. I think it would be best for you to speak with one of them before the party. The brother you will meet is Mammon. He is the 2nd most powerful brother. Mammon is the Avatar of greed." Diavolo sounds excited about the news. 

"That sounds interesting. When will I meet him?" I generally wonder how other demons are. Maybe this will be helpful for me. 

"In the evening. I know it's short notice, but I hope you are okay with that." Diavolo looks a bit guilty. 

"That's fine for me. It's not like I had other plans." I simply shrug. 

"I'm glad to see that you are so lively." Barbatos smiles as always. 

"Will I need to dress something nice for him?" I don't want to make a bad expression. 

"You are perfect as you are." Diavolo smiles brightly. I slightly wonder what he will say when I'm dressed nicely. 

"I agree with that sentiment. Besides, Mammon is a rather casual demon himself." Barbatos nods and casually continues to clean the table. 

"Alright, I will just stay as I am then. What is my next lesson?" I just want to start it, so it can be over. 

"You are very motivated today. Lord Diavolo should take you as an example." Barbatos smiles and makes a snide comment. 

"I will return to my work." Diavolo looks a bit beaten.

Barbatos nods in agreement. 

"Now regarding your lesson. We will practice your table manners, and then I will squeeze a bit more politics in before you meet Mammon." Barbatos seems very used to juggle my schedule around. 

This doesn't sound too bad. "So are we going to stay here?" 

"Indeed. We will practice the proper tea ceremony and how to act at a party." Barbatos then proceeds to prepare the table once again. 

He is very effective that is certain. 

"Have fun with your lesson." Diavolo sounds a bit dejected. 

"I hope your work will be easy." I smile at Diavolo. After seeing his workload, I feel much compassion towards him. 

Diavolo lights up at my words. "With this wish, it can only be easy."

With that Diavolo leaves. 

   "I will show you how to hold the cup." Barbatos lifts the tea with a few elegant movements and then proceeds to drink it. 

It's very impressive. I feel propelled to applaud him but stop myself. 

I try to emulate his movements, but it's way harder than it looks. 

Barbatos sees me struggling and then takes my hand, which still holds the cup. 

He then slightly corrects my fingers. "Like this master," Barbatos whispers into my ear, which sends shivers down my spine. 

   My heart starts to hammer in my ears, he is way too close. 

   Then Barbatos backs up. I let out a small breath. This was a close call. 

  This repeats a few times during my practice. It's very bad for my heart. 

  The lesson is technically easy, but I'm very glad when we are back to boring politics and history. 

   After the end of the lesson, I feel slightly unsure. "What kind of person is Mammon?" 

"You should just meet him with an open mind and don't give him money." Barbatos doesn't seem to want to influence me. 

Even when the last part strikes me as odd. I just take it as solid advice and Diavolo said he is the avatar of greed. 

  With mixed feelings, I go and meet Mammon. 

Barbatos leaves me alone with the guest. I assume he just wants to give me space. 

Mammon has already made himself comfortable. 

"Hello, I assume you have been told about me by your big brother?" I greet him slightly awkwardly. 

"Umm yeah. It honestly is a huge surprise to everyone. Like a human being adopted by the demon king? Talk about weird. We kinda assumed you were like a toddler or something. So I'm kinda relieved to see that's not the case." Mammon seems indeed very casual. 

This makes me feel great relief. "Yeah, it was a big surprise to me as well. I'm still getting used to everything but Diavolo and Barbatos doing their best to make me feel at home."

"How did that adoption even happen? It just came out of nowhere to everyone." Mammon is pretty blunt with his questions, but I prefer that to be sneaky. 

"I have no idea why the demon King chose me. He just kinda used his powers to summon me into his castle and told me that he is now my father." I'm unsure if it's smart to tell the story like this, but somehow I feel like I can tell Mammon. 

Mammon is seemingly surprised by this information. "Wait, he kidnapped you didn't he?" 

"I suppose you can say that. I can't really complain though since living here is pretty great. I mean the training is hard, but the food is great." I just shrug and take a sip of tea. 

"You are tougher than you look. I'd be going bonkers if it be me. I mean being trained to be the future demon ruler? Doesn't sound like it's fun." Mammon closes his eyes and nods. 

"Well, it's not all bad. I get treated to good food and Diavolo and Barbatos are both so nice. I kinda feel like at home already." I give him a small smile. 

"I got a hard time imagining Barbatos being all nice. He is pretty scary, to be honest." Mammon makes a strange face. It looks like he is remembering something unpleasant. 

"Hmm, I guess how he smiles all the time can be a bit unsettling." I somehow have a hard time picturing Barbatos being scary. Especially to another powerful demon. 

"Yeah, but I have seen him angry and that is very scary. Still, I wonder why they choose you. No offense but you look pretty normal to me. Are you some kind of magic prodigy?" Mammon shudders and changes the topic. 

"That is a good question. I have never felt magical if that makes any sense. The other day my magic was measured and the device broke but no idea what that might mean." I ponder over the question for a moment. 

Suddenly Mammon gets very pale. "Umm well, actually that might be my fault. You see that thing looked kinda valuable. I just kinda umm took a closer look at it and accidentally dropped it. It looked fine but well…" Mammon sighs deeply. Then he suddenly panics. "Oh, wait, please don't say this to anyone. They will kill me!" He looks at me with pleading puppy eyes. 

This is honestly of no big concern to me, but at least it explains the black smoke. Then I have an idea. "I won't tell anyone but in exchange, I want some information about your brothers."

  This is the perfect opportunity for me to gain some valuable Intel. I have to increase my odds of survival.

   Mammon seems to be very troubled. "Look I want to survive, but I can't sell my brothers out you know."

"That's not what I mean. You see the demon king wants me to show him that I am worthy of the throne. I have to make a good impression at the party or else he might kill me. I just need some info, so I can gain some points from your brothers." I give him my straight and honest reasons. 

"Ah, I see. So some basics about what they like will be enough, right?" Mammon gets my point right away. 

"Yes, that would be great Mammon." I smile at him. 

Mammon nods. "Okay. So Lucifer likes classical music and expensive stuff. He has the tastes of an old man to be honest. Don't tell him you got that from me, though." 

I nod and take mental notes. "That sounds easy enough. I'm sure Diavolo would know what Lucifer wants anyway. It kinda sounded like they are close."

"Close is an understatement. They are like a married couple or something." Mammon shrugs. 

  Somehow these words sting. "Wait, don't tell me that they are a couple?" 

"Not as far as I know. They are just kinda all hush and act high and mighty." Mammon shakes his head. 

I need to ask Barbatos about this later. 

"Hmm, I see. So the next brother?" 

"That would be me. The great Mammon. I like cars and brand products. So don't try to cheap sell me!" Mammon boasts loudly. 

"You will be happy with whatever I get you." I quickly shoot him down. 

"Aww come on!" He pouts.

"Sorry, but I have a lot of people to consider and don't forget that you broke a very expensive magical device." I give him a slight smirk. 

"Pretty mean of you." Mammon huffs, he is like a small child. I somehow feel a bit bad. 

"I will find you something nice okay?" 

"You better…" This seems to satisfy him. "Well moving on. Next up we have Levi. He is the avatar of envy. He loves anime and games. Levi is an Otaku as you humans would say." 

This also seems very easy. "Alright, I probably have some games I could give him."

"After that comes Satan. He is the avatar of wrath. Satan likes books and cats. He also hates Lucifer. Then we have Asmo. He likes clothes and beauty products. He is the avatar of lust, but he might as well be the avatar of vain. Not only that, but he also likes to party with me. Next is Beel, he is the avatar of gluttony. As you can guess he loves food. He is also into sports. Last we got Belphie. He is Beel’s twin and all he does is sleep. I mean he is the avatar of sloth. Oh, yeah, I think he liked stars. That's pretty much it." Mammon lists everyone up. 

  This is very helpful. "Wow, they all have very basic interests. Thank you very much for your help." I smile and have already some ideas ready. 

"Well, I suppose they do have basic interests, but what did you expect?" Mammon shrugs. 

"No clue, something eccentric? Don't get me wrong I'm happy with this. At least I will have something to talk to them about." I'm honestly just glad that I don't need to learn about some strange stuff. 

"I think they are pretty eccentric but whatever." Mammon shrugs without care.

"Thank you very much for the help Mammon. I'm sorry that I blackmailed you." I feel a bit guilty at least. 

"It's fine, I get it. I would do the same in your situation. I'm just glad that you won't tell anyone." Mammon doesn't seem to see any issues. 

"You are very nice for a demon. I mean I have no idea about demons, to be honest." I'm not sure if he gets what I mean. 

"Well, I'm the great Mammon so of course, I'm great." He laughs and blushes just a little. 

I shake my head. "I mean all of this is still pretty crazy to me, so it's nice to see that you are so relaxed."

"You have it pretty rough hm? Well, I will give you my number, so you can call me when ya need someone to talk to." Mammon wraps his concern into doing me a big favor. 

"That is very nice of you. I think you will be my first proper friend in the devildom." I give him an honest and grateful smile. 

Mammon looks away, obviously embarrassed. "Don't just say things like that." He mumbles and gives me his number. 

  This meeting goes way better than I expected. I'm very pleased. 

  _______________________

Im sure you all are happy to see at least one of the brothers before the party.

[dragonswithjetpacks]

The Gratitude of a Hunter

-dragonswithjetpacks

Summary: Ferelith roams the wood at night in search of a clear mind. Just as she finds silence, she finds a beast awaits. Rather than flee, she tames the beast. And extends an offer.

Notes: I have not given anything for BG3 in awhile. While Theurgist is still under works, I am afraid I am stuck. So as a treat and an apology gift, I give this to you all. I have also been extended my writing. So this is not written in my past-tense third party style. If there are mistakes made, please let me know as I am fairly knew to this type. Thank you all so much! <3

Read here on Ao3!

The memories of a place I once called home are still fresh in my head. As I walk through the trees, I can remember the smell of freshly cleaned wood. Though it was never clean for long. The lower part of Baldur’s Gate was dirty. And my shop was filled with dust. With every stack of books I moved, it would shift. And my counters would be dirty again. On the other hand, the trees would always be this way; untampered. Unlike me. Unlike this shift in my head. Unlike the crushing wave of anxiety growing in my chest with every second I felt Fian stir uncomfortably in the back of my thoughts. I wish the trees brought me peace as they did before. But now they look more like the tombstone for my grave.

At least the nights are peaceful here. If there was anything louder than the noise in my head, I am very likely snap. No one would blame me, or so I believe. Even if they did, they wouldn’t for long. Oh, I am quite grateful for the quiet times like this where I can have such impish thoughts. The cruelty in me has not yet been satiated. I have a desire building inside me that I cannot explain. One that has been burning the moment that worm came crawling into my eye socket. If I am quiet enough, I can hear it in there burrowing deeper inside. But tonight, I hear something else that has my attention. A soft moaning through the thicket accompanied by rustling. It sounds more like a wounded animal, but I’ve heard people sound that like before. My feet are cautious and my pace is quick for the sake of my curiosity. As I round a tree I can see it from the corner of my eye. There is a deer on the ground. Beneath its head is a pool of blood. And hovering above it is a fang dripping vampire.

I pause, attempting to calm myself and my heart before he can hear me. But it is too late. He looks up, his red eyes narrowing as he searches for my reaction. My sight shifts to his mouth painted red with fangs unsheathed. The same fangs that were once embedded in me. I recoil in shock, gasping quietly as I am unsure of what offending him might do. His brow becomes furrowed and I can see the wrinkle on the bridge of his nose. He is disgusted with me. I have made him angry.

“Why are you here?” he calls out to me.

I cannot answer. A carnal hunger pulses in my core as I recall his need to taste blood. My skin is reminded of what it felt like to have him clutch my body, the fluid racing through me to reach his lips. I slow my breathing, he cannot know of the uninvited excitement that has introduced itself into my thoughts. I examine him, his chest heaving upward to hide his shame, his fists clenched with anticipation. The deer is barely alive, struggling to keep its eyes open. A leg stretches forward, looking for something solid to keep it steady as it crawls away. I do not care if it lives or dies. But perhaps tonight it will be lucky enough to keep the rest of its blood. I am feeling generous. I am feeling… a bit of pity. But for a different kind of beast. And that burning desire rears its beautiful head in approval toward me. I blink slowly as if the night has taken me into a haze. It almost rings true as my impulse has taken control. He looks confused standing there over his prey, looking at me with anger and a hint of fear. Truth be told, I cannot stand the sight of it. It makes him look so weak.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

The aggression did not take away its true intent. It was a demand, but I could hear it as a plea. I push myself forward and watch him rise to his feet. He brushes the back of his hand against his mouth, removing the blood that remained. How bitter it must taste to come from a being lower than himself. While people are often like cattle to creatures of the night, at least it isn’t feeding on actual mindless animals. The substance of one with intelligence that rivals his own could even be sweet. And I could only imagine I am like honey to him. He can hear my heartbeat race and I can almost see him salivate as I undo the first button on my blouse.

“What are you doing?” he reaches up to grab my hand, but I pull away.

“I can’t watch you like this.”

“Then don’t watch me.”

He spat back and I pause. He is embarrassed, to say the very least. My inner thoughts are not doing him any favors, either. I should not look at him with such disdain. And I would be lying if I said I was doing anything because I felt sorry for him. No, I had thought about the piercing of my flesh for by the sharpness of his teeth since the morning I woke from that first night. I had touched the mark on my neck as I reminisced the sensation it left. The curiosity boiled inside me each night when I watched him slink out of the camp. And the urge to feel him taking my life away grew stronger the more I resisted. It was addicting to have yourself fade away. To know the moment before your body has relinquished its ownership from your soul. I had never experienced anything like it before him. I wanted to slide into a blissful moment where nothing mattered but life... and death.

I move to the second button on my shirt.

“I don’t want your pity,” he almost snarls at me.

I like this about him. Very much.

“Consider it an offering,” I say softly.

My tone changes him, softening his gaze as his eyes flicker to the crook of my neck. The marks from the first bite are still there. The way he inhales sharply makes me believe he likes the way they look, that he would leave more if he could. Whether this is the last time or the beginning to many… I am willing.

“Why would you offer such a prize to me?”

“Because I like you better when you’re properly fed,” I say as I pull on my collar. “When was the last time you drank from something that didn’t walk on four legs?”

“It’s been a few days,” he admitted. “But I’m fine, really.”

The smirk on his face is a lie.

“I’ll have no trouble getting any… sort of…”

I take his hand and surprisingly, he does not resist. It is larger than mine, but not by much. I grasp two of his fingers and he allows me to guide them to my neck. I know he notices my pulse through his gloves, the small palpitations beating into his fingertips. I know because he swallows hard and he stares at me defiantly.

“Just take it,” I shake my head.

I let go, giving him the choice to remove his touch. He does not. His fingers linger at the base of my neck, listening to my heart beating faster with every second I can feel him there. My heart feels as if it will explode, but his hand relaxes and slides to the base where the warmth of his palm greets the nape of my neck. He grips it with ferocity and I am suddenly aware of something sinister behind his eyes. It does not scare me as I smile up at him.

“I could kill you.”

“I know.”

The silence between us lures in tension. I can sense it turning inside my stomach.

“I trust you won’t toss aside the only opportunity you’ll have to feed on decent blood when needed.”

“Decent?” he grinned as he clenches harder. “My darling, you are the definition of exquisite.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“I am not certain you know the decision you’re making.”

“Bren nha ath tel'quiet lor. Teshuel salen alusfaen.”*

His eyes widen as he hears the familiar words from my tongue. He knows elvish. But I imagine it has been a long time since he last heard it spoken fluently. I am surprised to hear how clear it sounds, myself. Though I believe I have Fian to thank for that. And I have no time to thank him. Astarion hesitates no longer and I am caught off guard by the force of his fangs. The initial penetration is more painful than the last as if he was striking with a distinct purpose. Though, his drinking has become more controlled. The pull is slower like a rising tide rather than a bursting wave. My neck does not sting from the sheer force of the blood leaving my body. And I can feel his tongue. It traces the side of my neck between swallows. I clutch his chest, but the leather prevents me from clinging too much. I can already sense my conscious slipping, my vision blurring as I can only make out the ends of his curls. His other arm wraps around me and he leans me back. My blood begins flowing smoothly up my body. And it becomes more comfortable to lose control. I reach up, folding my arms around his neck, cradling him as he takes slow… long drinks…

Everything grows colder, but I ignore it until I can feel it in my fingertips. He notices the change as well as his lips come free of my skin. It is not my voice that brings him to a stop but the loosening grasp of my number fingertips. My knees shake beneath me as my body searches for strength. As he lifts me, my hands clutch the back of his shoulders. His face is close. So close. His eyes are hooded, looking over my profile. They stop at my lips where he looks for what seems like several minutes and I can hear my muffled breaths. He tilts my chin upward, now looking to my neck and the trickling stream of blood running down to my chest. Not a drop goes to waste as his tongue returns to lick from my collar bone to the freshly made wounds. A sigh escapes as I close my eyes. For a moment, I feel his lips again. But he is not drinking. He is just… tasting. They are gentle, sucking on what remains. The second time they make contact, they are softer. This is not a way a beast eats his prey. This is how a hunter gives thanks. And I receive it all down my neck as he peppers my skin with small caresses. I want to enjoy it. I want to urge him to continue. I want to tangle my hands into his curls. I want to feel lost in him further than I already am. But the blackness surrounds me. And I give one final squeeze as everything goes dark.

When I wake, I can hear the faint sound of birds in the trees. I blink slowly, looking as the sky becomes a bit brighter than it was before. I can smell the dew on the grass next to me. And I realize I am still in the wood. I push myself up, ready to sprint back to camp. But I am stopped by two red eyes as Astarion is propped on his elbows at my right.

“Good morning,” he says flatly.

“Morning,” I breathe, looking up to the still darkened sky.

“I’m glad you’re awake, though you look a bit pale,” he leans in to examine me. “Tch. I don’t think this will scar like the last one.”

My head jerks downward as I watch his lip uncurl. The assumptions I had made before were correct; he wants to mark me as his own. I look away quickly under his observing stare. I am not uncomfortable. I am… vulnerable. “Last night was a lovely surprise,” he goes on.

“I wanted to help,” I shoot a glance toward him.

“And you did,” the grin blossoms into a smile as if he is keeping a secret that I only knew a small portion of. “The offering, as you called it, was a treat. But the way you spoke… well,” a heavy breath came through his nose like a machine relieving pressure, “that was a pleasure.”

I open my mouth to speak. But nothing comes out. A flush of heat spreads across my face as I quickly turn away. I reach to close my blouse, but my buttons are already done. I touch the side of my neck and find no moisture. No dried blood. No cover. It is but smooth and clean skin.

“Did you-”

“It felt indecent to leave you exposed,” he rises to his feet.

The impression he leaves is that he had not been by my side the entire night. I fear he had left to find another feast once he had finished with me as there is more blood on the ground just a few feet away. And he looks… rejuvenated, just as before. There is a glow in his eyes and somewhat of a genuine smile that showed happiness. Looking down at me, he holds out a hand. I take it, though rather begrudgingly. I am guided upright but my legs are still weak. The blood rushes as I stand and the throbbing begins.

“We best get back before the others wake,” he suggests.

“Very well,” I nod.

“If they are awake, I am leaving the explanation to you.”

My eyes narrow at him in annoyance.

“I mean, I could think of many ways we were together alone for an entire night. But I will refrain from giving any sort of excuse unless approved by you, my dear.”

The pur in his voice brings me the same sensation as his tongue against my skin. I shutter and attempt to shake my head free of his nonsense. Though, he has a point. It was a valid excuse.

“Let’s just make our way there and I will think of something. If they are awake…”

“I will be right behind you,” he slightly bows. “I do want to make sure my investment is capable of making it back.”

Ending Notes: *This is mine to make. Take my blood. -There is literally nothing on elvish in the Forgotten Realms and yeah I'm angry about. This was the best I could do. Don't yell at me.

[urlocalkpoptrash]

Dig Your Own Grave | Prologue

Kim Taehyung x OC

Genre: SerialKiller!AU| Horror| Thriller| Dark Romance| Smut| Angst|

Warning/TW: Violence, mention of blood and knives, swearing.

Word Count: 1.7K

Full time grave digger, part time serial killer. Kim Taehyung has spent most of his life trying to cleanse the earth of all the wicked and evil people, and in that process he has become a shut in. Loneliness wasn't something he minded, that is until he met Hana Kang. Just a girl looking for the person that killed her father, Hana never expected the help of a grave digger.

-

“God, please! I beg of you. It was a mistake, I never meant to hurt anyone!”

Taehyung sat in the corner of the room, twirling his hunting knife between his index finger and thigh, a trickle of his blood traveled down the blade. Pain was futile to Tae, he believed that only the weak and spineless needed pain, he said it was a landfill emotion and served him no purpose, so one day he decided that he’d no longer acknowledge it.

“Come on, man!” The man pleaded once again, tears streaming down in a uniform line, making a path of skin in the wake of blood that had started to stain his skin.

The pain in the mans voice was vexing, the closest thing to hurt that Tae felt was discomfort, and nothing made him more uncomfortable than an inept man. He sighed, pushing himself from the corner, the single light fixture swaying in the middle of the room only made Tae more terrifying than he looked in the dark. How could such a beautiful face be so grim.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Tae suggested, kneeling in front of the broken man, “I’ll give five minutes to pray to God, or whoever you choose, ask them to set you free, and if you get out of your restrains, I’ll let you go. How does that sound?”

The man’s eyes grew ten times their normal size, was this the beacon of hope he’d been asking for? Could he actually make it out alive? There was a fire in him and he swore that he’d live to see the next day. However, Tae had other plans. He wasn’t going to go back on his word, if he was anything, it was a man of his word, but he knew his victim wouldn’t be able to get a singular strap off.

“Yes!” It wasn’t just an answer but it was a deceleration of strength. If he’d made it this far in life, he could surely come out of this alive, and live to tell the tale.

Tae grinned a joyless grin. Pleased that he’d finally got him to stop, and maybe just maybe, he’d found someone who would test his own skills and talent. It had been far too long since he had to actually try, and now he may be able to dust off some of his favorite techniques. He gently patted the mans leg, and stood without another glance, setting his watch for exactly five minutes.

“Now?!” His victim questioned, he was expecting at least a ‘go’ but then again, what do you expect with a serial killer?

Tae closed the door behind him, the metal lock latching to the wall. He didn’t bother to hang around, he’d give him the time he promised, but Tae was a full time grave keeper, before he was a part time killer. Tae sheathed the knife in the waistband of his pants, the tip of the blade making a small tear in the material.

“God damn it, these were my favorite pants,” he grumbled, at least now he wouldn’t have to be so damn neat since he was going to throw them out anyways.

He made his way up the steps towards the staff kitchen, the room was almost as scary as the basement. The dingy, once white paint was chipping off the walls, counter tops had to be from when this place first opened, at least thirty years ago, and the clock was permanently stuck on 11:32. His one and only employee always tried to change the time, but Tae shut it down. He was a particular guy, and he liked consistency, even if that meant that the time was consistently wrong.

His stomach gurgled, reminding Tae that he hadn’t eaten all day, an unfortunate side effect of giving all your spare time to the grim reaper. He ran his fingers through his hair, completely forgetting that his hand had been painted with blood from his own finger, reaching for an apple sitting on the pathetic excuse of a table. He was rather impressed that it was still standing, possibly on its last leg. He chuckled at his own pun, removing the knife from his pants, pressing the blade into the rind of the apple. The juice dribbled down, little drops hitting his shoes. He didn’t bother to throw away his trash, just leaving the peel on the table. His employee, Sam, would clean it up when she came in for her shift in a few hours. He sliced the apple with nothing but his knife and the pad of thumb, plopping the pieces of a sweet fruit into his mouth.

He had barely finished half the apple when his watch went off, a glint of excitement twinkled in his eyes. Tae didn’t experience emotions like the normal person, he only allowed himself to feel when he found it wasn’t a distraction. Every once and a while an emotion would bubble up on it’s own and he’d do everything in his power to suppress it. He found that nothing good came from giving to human nature, so he simply didn’t.

The steps gave no sound as he walked back down, eerily like a lion scouting it’s prey. Most people were afraid of what goes bump in the night, but there was nothing scarier than hearing nothing at all. He tapped the steel of his blade against the door, he could hear the man cry out in agony. He knew this wasn’t a cry of physical pain, this was a cry of defeat. He now knew that his time was up, and he’d have to meet his maker. Somewhere deep inside of him, he knew that his demise wouldn’t be peaceful, it would end in way that mimicked the torture he did to others.

Tae stepped in, leaning against the door frame. He gazed at the utter disgrace of a man. How disappointing, he was just like every fuckhead who found themselves in these restraints. Tae made his way over to the shelves that sat behind the chair of death, it was his ‘utility’ shelf.

“You know what I hate the most about this?” He asked, grabbing the tarp that was folded methodically, the dust around it only showed that it was never placed in any other place, in any other position.

“People like you spend your lives torturing and hurting other people. You make yourself feel better by belittling others, you get off on asserting your dominance over people who can’t fight you anyways,” he begins to lay the tarp down, placing rocks on each corner so the corners wouldn’t lift and cause him to trip, he’d only make that mistake once.

“And then when it comes down to really showing what you can do, to show off how strong and macho you are, you choke. You’re not powerful, you never were. I am happy to be the one to tell you this, I want to remind you that you are human and you are not indestructible,” he stops in the middle of the room, directly under the light that had finally stopped its dance.

“And you think this makes you indestructible?” The deplorable man spat, furious.

Tae cocked his head to the right, a smile stretching mischievously across his face. Of course this didn’t make him indestructible, but it made him infamous. He’d leave behind a better world when he was gone, and what would this scumbag leave behind? Just pain and misery.

“Absolutely not, and it gives me nothing but pure joy to think that one day I’ll meet you again in hell, and get to haunt and torture you for eternity,” he reached over to rack of what looked like butchers aprons.

It was time, and Tae was tired of talking. He reached back and made a sloppy farmers loop on the back of the neck with the apron strings, and the same with his back.

“God, I am so sorry for all the pain I’ve caused, mom and dad, I’m sorry for never being the son you wanted, and to my wife, I am so sorry that I wasn’t the husband you needed. I should’ve been a better man, I could’ve been. Please forgive me,” He weeped for all the people he loved.

He didn’t even realize that Tae had made his way behind him, the only thing he could think of was his life, and how much he had to do, how much of life he wanted to live. He was sitting in his pity like a sick animal sits in their own feces. Tae had woven his fingers in the mans hair, gripping roughly and with a sharp yank the mans head fell back, exposing his neck.

“There are plenty of bad people in this world, who do things worse than you, but do you want to know why you?” Tae asked, leaning down, his lips dangerously close to touching the mans ear.

Silence, not so much as a nod or a hiccup from over crying. He had accepted his fate, and he didn’t care to know why him, all he knew was it was him. He kept his eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable end.

“Because when you asked for forgiveness, you didn’t ask it from the one person you destroyed.”

That was it. The reason, the end all be all of this life. His eyes flew open, as the realization hit him. Could he have saved himself if he wasn’t so selfish? Could he have undone all the bad he’d inflicted if he would have just apologized and meant it? He was about to speak, to beg for her forgiveness, but just as soon as he gasped, the knife broke his skin just like peeling an apple.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Until Tomorrow

Summary:  Quarantine by itself is lonely enough. Quarantine amidst a rainstorm of biblical proportions is downright depressing. Lucky for you, a visitor arrives just in time to keep you company.

Word Count:  2,463

Pairing: Loki x Reader

A/N: Sooo..... I did a thing. I’ve never written fanfiction or reader-inserts before, but it was pouring rain last night and I’ve been reading so many quarantine fics on Ao3 that I thought I’d give it a whirl. I’ve never been more nervous about posting a story before... I hope you like it!

Also, I got an Ao3 account now, so you can read it here if you’d like

              It was raining.

              Although raining didn’t seem to do the weather justice. You couldn’t remember the last time you had witnessed such a torrential downpour. The pattering of raindrops rushing down your slanted roof had been drowned out by the wooshing of the fast-moving river that a few hours ago had been your street. Between the dark storm clouds and fog so thick you could cut it with a knife, you couldn’t make out exactly how bad the road was, but the waves that crashed against your window every time a car came skidding past your house told you that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

              Not that you currently had any great travel plans.

              You sat on the couch at your front window, a book lying open and ignored in your lap, watching water droplets race down the glass as a shiver raced down your spine. Usually, you loved the rain. You had grown where storms were a treasured rarity, where you’d insist your mother buy you rainboots for your birthday only for her to give them away a year later when they became too small, balls of paper still stuffed into their toes. Usually, when it poured, you’d run into your driveway with your head back and arms out, belting out “Singin’ in the Rain” as you attempted dance moves that would make Gene Kelly role in his grave, just because you could.

              But today, you didn’t feel like dancing. With everything going on right now, the rain seemed less like a cause for celebration and more like a sign of impending doom. It had been weeks since you left the sanctuary of your tiny suburban house. You were lucky, everything considered— your parents were safely quarantined in your childhood home on the other side of the country, from where they FaceTimed with you at least once a day.

              Your job was secure. That was one of the wonderful things about working for Tony Stark: the day everyone was sent home, the head man himself sent out an email swearing to keep everyone on the payroll through the quarantine, regardless of how long it lasted. He had even set up a system for delivering groceries to his employees: you texted a number with your order, and a few hours later a red and gold drone dumped a box of overflowing plastic bags on your doorstep. That was something your mom couldn’t get over—Iron Man bringing you milk!— and honestly the ridiculousness of it all made you want to giggle, too.

              Sometimes, though, it was all too much. It had been ages since you’d seen anybody, ages since you had heard another voice unfiltered by the garbled speaker of your cell phone. You had never considered yourself to be an overtly social person, but damn did you wish you had somebody here to talk to. Your mother had been trying for years to convince you to adopt a pet, insisting that it wasn’t healthy for you to be living completely alone, but you had always brushed her off, saying that you were working so often that you were rarely at home and it would be cruel to the animal. Now, you promised yourself that as soon as this was over, you were heading to the Humane Society.

              If this was ever over.

              Outside, the rain kept pouring. The trickling water seemed to be whispering to you—sinister promises of something worse yet to come. You curled tighter upon yourself, pressing your cheek to your knees.

              Let this end. Please, just let this end.

              A crash behind you startled you out of your thoughts. You shrieked, whipping around to see a figure standing in your living room, soaking bags sprawled about him, staining the carpet. He scowled.

              “Bloody rainstorm. You can’t see a damn thing out there.” He shook his head and began wringing out his hair, muttering in a language you didn’t understand.

              It was several moments before you could find your voice. Once you did, it slipped out cautiously. “Loki?”

              “At your service, my lady.” He gave a grand bow, his words dripping with sarcasm.

               You stared. You knew Loki, of course. You were familiar with all of the Avengers who lived in the tower—your office was located on one of the higher levels, and as a result it wasn’t uncommon to see celebrities like Dr. Banner or Captain Rodgers making their way across the floor to meet with one of your coworkers. Unlike the others, however, you had actually spoken with Loki.

              The two of you had a little run in a few months ago, when you were refilling your coffee mug at the break room. You were already on edge because Dr. Foster was visiting, Dr. Jane Foster, and word about the floor was that she would be stopping by with Thor to meet some of the higher-level workers at some point during the day. You felt silly for feeling so starstruck, but Dr. Foster’s work was on another level of world-shattering, and the thought that you might be shaking her hand by the end of the day had you all sorts of jittery.

              Then the coffee pot exploded.

              Exploded wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more like an eruption— all at once the pitcher just vomited its contents across the counter, up to the ceiling, all over the floor, writing like an animal and spitting out more coffee than it possibly could’ve been holding previously. With a scream, you threw the anthropomorphic pot to the floor, adding shattered glass to the absolute mess in the break room.

              There wasn’t time to comprehend what just happened before he was there, pulling you out of the puddle of lukewarm coffee.

              “Forgive me, that was not supposed to happen. Are you hurt?” Loki scanned your form with an anxious sort of urgency. There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks—if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he was blushing. “Are you hurt?” he asked again when you only gaped at him like a dead fish. “Burned? That was not meant—forgive me.”

              “No,” you finally said. The coffee hadn’t been warm enough to do any damage. “Just… my clothes—”

               He waved his hand, and the sticky moisture clinging to your front disappeared. You ran your hand over your shirt, now dry and stainless. That’s useful.

               “Are you certain you are uninjured?” he asked. “I swear, that was not what I intended—”

               “I’m fine.” Now that the shock had worn off, you found yourself stifling the urge to giggle. “What were you trying to do?”

               Loki looked embarrassed. “My brother has the tendency of laying claim to the refreshments of any floor he visits, without leaving anything for those working on said floors. I thought I’d teach him a lesson.” He cast a glance back at the mess behind him. “The charm was meant only to react to him. I suppose I made a mistake in casting it.” He turned back to you. “I am sorry.”

               You smiled. “It’s alright. I guess I could use a bit of excitement in my life.”

               He grinned. “Words to live by.”

               After that, you had been friendly. You’d greet each other when you walked by one another, you’d make small talk in the elevator if you were riding together, he’d hold the door for you if he had the chance. Nothing serious, nothing even that personal really, just office-friendly.

              Definitely not crashing-unannounced-into-your-living-room-during-a-rainstorm-in-the-middle-of-a-pandemic friendly.

              “What—?” you sputtered, springing off the couch. “What are you doing here?”

              Loki dramatically gestured to the bags on the floor. “It seems I have been relegated to the status of a delivery boy.”

              Craning your neck, you recognized the label of your local grocery market. You frowned. “Did—did you bring me groceries?”

              The Asgardian in your living room huffed irritably. “You had an order for today, did you not?”

              You nodded slowly. Yes, you were waiting on an order today, and now that you were looking you could see that it was sprawled across the floor at Loki’s feet: a carton of orange juice, a tub of ice cream, a bag of potato chips… but what was Loki doing dropping off food for you?

              He sighed. “Stark, in his infinite wisdom, failed to consider the effect of such the elements—” he gestured to the monsoon outside your window “—on his mechanical messengers. As I am the only individual he knows with means of instantaneous travel, I have been encouraged to assist with deliveries. I am—what is the phrase?—making the rounds, if you will. ”

              “Oh.” You found yourself at a loss for words, likely looking every bit as dumbfounded as when you first met in the break room. You mentally slapped yourself. “Um… thank you. Here,” you moved to collect to foodstuff off the carpet, “I can, uh, start putting things away—”

              With one swift motion, Loki scooped everything up. “Allow me. Just tell me where you want me to put it.” You glanced up at him cautiously. He raised his eyebrows.

              “Uh, okay.”

              He followed you into your kitchen, and you cringed as you realized how truly disgusting your sink was. It had been ages since you had the motivation to do the dishes, and they had been piling up in your sink like the leaning tower of cheap ceramics for at least a week now. Loki didn’t say anything though. At your direction, he placed the bags on the counter and watched as you silently put the contents away.

              Even amidst all the awkwardness, there was something soothing about his presence. For the first time in weeks, there was a living, breathing person in your house, someone real to talk to and laugh with. So when Loki said that he had to finish his deliveries, the question that popped out of your mouth was birthed by pure desperation.

“Do you want something to drink before you go?” you asked. “Like, a glass of water? Or… I have coffee, if you don’t mind it being reheated.”

              If Loki was surprised by your offer, he masked the emotion quickly with a smirk. “Do you really trust me with coffee?”

              You giggled. “I don’t know. Can I?”

              “You shouldn’t trust me with anything,” he said, slipping into one of the seats at your kitchen table. “But I think we can make an exception just this once.”

              You sat and talked for nearly an hour, sipping your microwaved coffee as the rain pounded on the roof. Loki had plenty of quarantine stories from the Tower, stories that always seemed to end with Thor accidentally blowing something up.

              “He is not used to staying in such a limited space for this long of a time period,” he said reflectively. “I think perhaps confinement is having a detrimental effect on his intellect. Stark has installed a ‘Days Without an Accident’ count at the kitchen table, and thus far my brother has managed to reset it every day.”

              You snorted. “That sounds hilarious. I wish I was there to see that.”

              “No, you don’t. Everyone is fed up with everyone else.” Loki stared into his mug absently. “They have been starting altercations over the minutest details. It’s quite chaotic.”

              You frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to like chaos?”

              “When it’s within my control. This is far beyond that.” He took another sip, emptying it. “You are lucky to live alone. I would gladly welcome the peace you have here.”

              “I don’t know. There’s not much to do in here.” You held in a sigh. “It gets kind of depressing after a while.”

              Loki cocked his head, brow furrowed. “You are lonely?”

              Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. It was such a menial complaint to have, especially when so many others were suffering. “Kind of,” you muttered. “It’s not so bad, though.”

              Loki continued pressing. “You have access to communication, yes?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought all of you mortals were addicted to your cellular devices.”

              “Yeah,” you replied slowly. “But it’s not the same thing as, you know, actually talking to someone. Like, when they’re actually there.”

              “I understand.” He reached out to set his mug on the table. Somewhere hidden under your smile, your heart sank. He’d be leaving soon.

               Loki cleared his throat. “If you would like,” he said, “I could pay you a visit every so often, as we are doing now.”

              What?

              “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you rushed to say, even though the thought of having a regular visitor sent your pulse thrumming.

              “No, but I think I would appreciate the respite. Today has been quite lovely, if I may say so.” He smiled— a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin—and you felt rather silly for the way your heart seemed to soar. “Of course,” he added quickly, “if you don’t wish for my company, I completely—”

              “No!” The volume of your voice made you cringe. Jeez, he must think you haven’t spoken to anyone in months. “No, I—if you want to come over, then…” For a moment, you fumbled with your words, searching for an eloquent way to accept his offer. “I’d like that,” you finally said, giving up. “I’d like that a lot.”

              He laughed. “In that case, I’ll stop by tomorrow.” When he stood, you stood with him, following him back to your living room where he had left the groceries you hadn’t claimed. “I do need to be going now, though,” he said, scooping up the remaining bags. “The last thing I need is Stark having a fit over my failure to deliver his employees’ groceries on time.”  He nodded at you. “Thank you very much for the coffee.”

              “No problem,” you said. “Thanks for—thanks.”

              He chuckled. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”

              “Until tomorrow.”

              And just like that, he was gone. It was a noiseless disappearance: one moment he was there, the next, you were once again alone with the pouring rain. With a sigh, you made your way back to the couch, scooping up your book off the floor. Once again, however, you found your attention drifting to the water running down the window, the rushing waves of your street outside. Nothing had changed, and yet it seemed so much less frightening than it had an hour before. No, now, it was almost soothing. You had the sudden urge to run out on to your driveway and belt “Singin’ In the Rain.”

              I should’ve done that while Loki was here, you thought sleepily, pressing your cheek to the cushion. He would’ve gotten a kick out of that.

              Maybe you could, if it was still raining tomorrow.

              Tomorrow.

              You dozed off to the peaceful lullaby of the rainfall, smiling softly and thinking of tomorrow.

[sserpente]

A/N: May the Fourth be with you all! Request from anon. Enjoy, everyone! ♥

Words: 1778 Warnings: smut

‘Boyfriend’ was such a ridiculous term. ‘Boyfriend’ would indicate that Kylo Ren was yours, no? Ha, he most definitely was not. Kylo Ren was an emotionally unstable mess with powers beyond our comprehension. He was dangerous and he was not to be provoked—something you had not wanted to believe General Hux when he first told you.

Yet here you were now, meeting at night when only a few cleaning droids roamed the hallways to train together, talk and fuck. Naturally, the latter hadn’t initially been the plan. But his face… the first time he had shown himself to you without that intimidating mask and locked his brown eyes with yours, your heart had jumped like an electricity shock rippling right through it. You had seen his pain, his innermost thoughts and sorrows.

And you probably loved him. Certainly though, you would never admit that—not even under torture.

As of late, you had not seen him around often. Kylo was busy finding this oddly talented Rey girl he sought to recruit for his cause and he rarely took the time for you to meet him in his quarters; and you would be lying if you kept telling yourself that it didn’t bother you.

You knew about his Force bond with Rey. You knew that they seemed to understand each other in a way you never would. You were not Force sensitive. You never would be. You were a regular employee fixing things around the Finalizer. Nothing special. And you were bloody jealous.

Gnashing your teeth indignantly, you marched down one of the vast metal hallways on the way back to your own quarters—ten times smaller than Kylo’s but cosy nonetheless. You spent most of your time wandering around when you were upset. Tonight was one of those nights you’d probably end up doing so until the next morning.

The hallway was dimly lit. Emergency lights illuminated the metal ground to your feet, your shoes creating clinking sounds with every step. Gosh, how you hated this! He was on your mind, twenty-four-seven. You had, perhaps, made a grave mistake by falling in love with this man.

You cursed when you tripped over an opened floorboard revealing some complicated electricity and countless wires. Whoever had been working on this today had obviously been too dull to close it again overnight. You gasped when you fell, face-forward, your hands coming up on reflex to cushion your fall when suddenly, you stopped mid-air, only inches before the ground and, unceremoniously, were hoisted back on your feet.

Looking up both in confusion and realisation, you found Kylo standing right in front of you, a few feet away from where you had tripped, his expression unreadable. Almost. There was a hint of anger in his eyes—and for whatever reason, it had you fuming.

“Thank you, Commander… or should I say Supreme Leader now?”

Kylo frowned, stepping closer.

“I was in your quarters. You were not there.” He responded reproachfully. You clenched yours fists. Oh, was it your fault now you had not been available when he finally remembered your existence? You took a deep breath. Remember. He’s not your ‘boyfriend’, that’s not the correct term for whatever he was to you.

“What a shame. Did you leave a note? Good night, Supreme Leader.”

His fists clenched, a low growl escaping his lips. Kylo grabbed your arm the moment you attempted to strut past him, almost smashing you against the nearest wall. You gasped.

“I was looking for you.” He choked out through gritted teeth.

“Well, here I am.” Why now, why tonight? He was clearly frustrated. Perhaps he had come to you to talk. You were the only person around whom he could trust when it came to his dark thoughts and destructive emotions. Swallowing thickly, you shoved your bad conscience away along with him, resulting in Kylo pressing you against the metal with his whole body and leaving you no room to escape.

You flinched when rammed his fist into the wall right next to your head, his whole body shaking with anger and devastation all the while facing the ground. When he looked back up to you, his eyes were glowing yellow.

Anxiously, you took a deep breath. This was not good. This was not good at all. “What happened?”

“What happened?” He repeated mockingly. “It’s her. It’s always her.” Another blow followed his words, leaving a dent in the wall. A faint similarity to what his words did to your heart.

“Then what do you want from me?”

Kylo had no need to ask. He knew what you were thinking. Sleeping with him repeatedly had enabled him to do one thing—he could read your mind so effortlessly you felt no pain whenever he elected to invade it.

Right now, he was holding back. Whether it was hard-earned composure that kept him from hurting or fucking you though, you could not decide. Either way you knew he was not going to answer your question—not directly.

“How was your day?” He forced out instead. Snorting, you raised an eyebrow. Kylo sucked at small talk and casual conversations. You believed by now he actually cared when he asked for your well-being, yet you could tell it was irrelevant to him. Naturally. He had more important matters to attend to.

“Horrible. Hux is making my life here a living hell, as usual. You would know that if you bothered to check on me every now and then. You promised, remember?”

Kylo’s eyes were still a dangerous yellow when they locked with yours again. Noticing your lack of resistance, he placed his right hand on your hip, travelling upwards ever so slowly—over your waist, your stomach, your breasts—until he could wrap his gloved fingers around your neck to squeeze it lightly.

“He will change his ways soon if he wants me to keep him alive.”

You snorted. Kylo squeezed your neck a little harder, causing you to tense up.

“Hux is an arsehole. He demands respect for nothing. Respect is earned.” You spat furiously.

Kylo tilted his head slightly. “But you respect me. I can sense that.”

“Yes. You. Because you could choke me to death without even touching me.”

“That’s not the reason.” It was only the weakest hint of a smirk. Kylo rarely ever smiled genuinely, you were proud to be one of the few people coaxing a little happiness out of him—even when he was furious.

“I’ve told you to stay out of my head, repeatedly.”

“Well, you make it too easy.” Rolling your eyes, you attempted to wriggle away. You longed to be angry at him but the more aware you got of his obvious arousal pressing against your thighs, the more you felt your indignant emotions melting away. You should get away from him now.

“Let me go.”

But instead, Kylo’s grip around your neck tightened even more, almost cutting off your air supply.

“No,” he breathed. “I need you.”

You gasped when he lifted you up and forcefully pried your legs apart, knowing you could never refuse him. Your own excitement betrayed you. Your heart was beating like a steam hammer, your already wet cunt pulsing with need. Moaning, you allowed Kylo to impatiently fiddle around with your one-piece uniform, almost breaking the zipper to reveal your naked body to his yellow eyes.

Was it strange not to feel any fear? It probably was.

Carelessly, he peeled it off until it hung from your ankles until all there was left for him in the way was your knickers. Groaning, he tore them apart and dropped them to the ground.

Kylo was lost, trapped in a headspace you could not quite grasp. Over and over, he mumbled your name as he freed his throbbing cock from under his black armour, aligning it with your soaking entrance.

You dug your fingernails into his shoulders when sheathed himself inside you, the impact of his hard length impaling you knocking all air from your lungs. His hand was still wrapped tightly around your neck. It was an illusion, gave him power over you, to control you. He always did it. He controlled your thoughts, your dreams, your arousal, even your orgasms. Which of all those was it going to be tonight?

You had missed him. Oh, you had missed him so much. Being near him, taking in his scent, resting your forehead against his, kissing him. Your eyes fell shut when he picked up his pace and rutted into you like a possessed animal, hunting his own pleasure like a starving wolf in heat. He knew exactly how to thrust into you to make you squirm and scream, tonight was no different. And right now, you did not care if somebody could hear you. If somebody would catch you fucking the Supreme Leader in the hallway.

“Kylo…”

“You belong… to me…” He growled in response, removing his hand from your neck to bury his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. Sharp pain rippled through you when he bit down on the sensitive skin, suckling violently to leave a love bite that would remind you of his words. This was all about him. Kylo sped up even more, shuddering and breathing heavily when he neared his climax.

He was fucking you so relentlessly you feared he would lose his mind. With but a few more, agitated thrusts, he tossed himself over the edge, burying himself as deep inside you as he possibly could as he came, his hard member coating your tight walls with his warm cum, throbbing and pulsing inside you.

Carnal satisfaction spread in your entire body even though you had not experienced the peak of pleasure yourself. Kylo stilled, his softening length still inside of you, and rested his forehead against yours.

Was this what he had wanted? Why he had gone out of his way in the middle of the night to visit you in your quarters? A quick fuck to get rid of all his built-up frustration? You swallowed, ignoring the painful stings in your chest. And you were not going to say no, of course, not as long as you got to be close to him. You belong to me… it sounded incredibly erotic, like a promise. But you wanted it to be more than just a naughty and filthy threat.

“Let me go now?” You whispered with defeat in your voice.

“No. I want you in my quarters tonight.” Surprised, you looked up and met his eyes—his irises finally having returned to their natural colour. “And that’s where I want you to stay with me from now on.”

A/N: If you liked this story, I would be flattered if you supported me on KoFi! ko-fi.com/sserpente

[blukrown]

Pride Amongst Siblings

WARNING! This fic contains: attempted roofying/drugging & attempted sexual assualt

If any of these upset you, please do not read!

Also available on AO3

This fic was commissioned by @mrneighbourlove, thank you so much for the support and giving me the chance to write about your character!

"Shit, come back here!" Leere called out to the small figure she was chasing down the busy market streets of Oshmel.

Five minutes after entering the town and she had already gotten lost as well as got her bag stolen. It was rather embarrassing. She might have the thought to shame herself for her naivety if she weren't pelting after the little thief.

Leere had been walking down the crowded streets, map in hand. She had been trying to find her accommodation for the coming evening when a young child had approached her. Clearly a local, the kid offered his help in leading Leere to her destination. She wasn't one to object to a kind offer, especially not when she secretly needed it, so she let the boy lead the way.

Leere had just started thinking about giving the youth a few rupees for his trouble when another kid jumped her. Snatching her rucksack with all of her things and running off, while the first boy vanished into the busy streets.

Although it did take her moment to realise just what had happened, she was soon in hot pursuit of the second child. She might not  be able to punish the bait but at the very least she could recover her things

For how much she was growing to hate the brat, she didn't want to endanger him or other civilians around him by using her magic. She would, unfortunately, have to do this the hard way.

The kid quickly turned out of the busy main streets and ducked into a quiet alleyway. Leere had thought this would give her an advantage with her long legs but the child seemed to have knowledge with the area and still kept a good distance between them.

"Stop! Thief!" Leere called, hoping she might grab anyone's attention. "Get back here dammit!"

The kid kept close to the left side of the alleyway, clearly ready to skid into a turn down a different laneway in the next few paces. But to Leere's great relief, a tall man poked his torso out from the corner, to see what all the commotion was about. And the kid crashed right into him.

Leere restrained a smile as she caught up to the rascal. Catching her breath, she made sure to first snatch her bag back before the little kid could scuttle off.

When Leere turned to thank her unexpected aid, she noticed the stranger seemed unfazed by the collision. He really was also very tall, with at least two heads more height than Leere. Unrecognizable, it wasn't until she looked to the man's face - marked with a wide, excited grin - that she realised who he was.

"Teb?" Leere asked, pleasantly surprised to see her youngest adoptive brother in a place like this.

"Leere!" Tebanam grinned widely, sweeping his older sister into a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" Leere answered, welcoming the embrace.  

"So you were going up to Kahmel as well?" Tebanam said with surprise as he finished his meal. "Don't tell me, you were going after the rumoured treasure in the town's shrine."

Leere let out a chuckle, "I'm guessing you had the same idea?"

"Well yeah," Tebanama nonchalantly nodded. "But I was also going up there for research."

"Oh?" Leere said, pausing the forkful of food she was about to eat. "This is about that distant relative of the Gerudo, right?"

"Yeah, the Garai."

Oshmel, the city Leere and Tebanam currently occupied, was a border city. Just a few minutes by cart from the perimeter of Hyrule, this town was a mix of all cultures. It was a city filled with locals, travellers and full of people from nearly every race in the land. The settlement lived at the summit of a great mountain, one which hides within its craters an old, deserted tribal village, known as Kahmel. Some people believe the people who had occupied the village died by a plague, others by wild animals and others still believed they had been cursed. Either way, no one bothered going up the mountain. After all, nothing was up there accept the sad, abandoned ghost town.

For all the travelling the two of them did, this was their first time meeting on the road. Perhaps it was only a matter of time until Leere would run into Tebanam but it did come at a good time.

About half a year ago, Tebanam and Leere - as well as all their other siblings - had returned to Hyrule castle to celebrate the birth of Covarog's first two children. Leere loved being home with her family, she would stay there forever if she didn't feel the call of adventure.

It had been two years since Tebanam had lost Jazoh - a noble boy taken away from court for being caught having a sexual relationship with the young prince - and Leere and her fellow adopted sister Rinku had only meant to help Tebanam.

For being away from Hyrule for so long, the youngest son of Ganondorf had not seemed to recover from the loss of his partner. The sister's had sought to help Tebanam and comfort him. But at some point, they must've upset him.

Leere could not remember the exact reason but Tebanam had stood up - towering over his elder sisters - and looked Leere right into the eyes and spat, "You're only depressed simply because you want attention! My feelings aren't something I can easily turn off like yours, Leere!"

Rinku, furious at Tebanam's statement and intending to defend her sisters, had countered, "She's only trying to help you, Tebanam! You only travel because you lost your fuck toy! As if that's a good way to cope!"

Tebanam had looked furious, but the pain of hearing his eldest's sister's words cut him deep enough to shut his mouth. He only huffed and stormed out of the room, choosing to leave before he said or heard anything more he may regret.

Leere had left before confronting Tebanam about it. Although she didn't say those things, she still should've at least given him a positive farewell.

However, Tebanam happily talked about his travels, Leere could tell that he did not hold any sort of grudge against her.

"Remember that set of armour I gave papa?" Tebanam asked his pompous smirk wide. "He keeps it on display in his office, y'know." Leaning back in his chair, the half Gerudo man puffed out his chest in pride.

Leere let out a snort, "Not last time I was there. Yours was missing the greaves, remember? So it's an incomplete set." Leere loved teasing he brother and by the pitiful bummed out look on his face, she was looking forward to giving him worse. "Mama likes the golden fan I gave her."

Tebanam snorted, "Yeah but what's the point of a fan if you're not going to use it? Mama's not a shower like Papa either."

That shut Leere right up, not that she minded.

Hyrule castle held the largest collection of armour, antiques and artifacts in the land. All starting with King Ganondorf, the passion for treasure hunting had been passed down to many of his children. Both Leere and Tebanam were both proud competitors of a non-existent competition to see who could bring back the best discovery for their parents. As if her parents could love her any less for not finding a prettier treasure than Tebanam, Leere still could not quite let this immature contest go.

"I have a . . . question for you." Tebanam said, distracting Leere from her walk down memory lane. Leere gave an inquisitive look, which seemed enough for her brother to continue. "You know how you can transform, right?"

Leere frowned, she could almost see the gears in Tebanam's head whirring. "Yeah? What about it?"

"Would you be able to say . . . transform into a man?"

"Well yeah, it's a pretty easy spell actually. Even Mama can do it."

"Although the idea of our dear Mama as a man sounds really funny, that is a subject for a different conversation." Pausing to hear Leere let out a chuckle in bemusement, the brother than continued. "Do you still remember it? As in, can you still do it?"

"Yeah . . . I guess." Leere's eyes then squinted in suspicion. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well . . ."

Having found Tebanam's hotel, they had retreated to his room.

It was rather small, what with the large king-sized bed taking up a large amount of space. But Leere didn't have time to judge Tebanam's choice in accommodation when her brother was hurrying her along.

"Alright," Tebanam said, locking the door so no one could enter. "Now let's see what you can do."

Although still unaware of Tebanam's plan, Leere obeyed her little brother's wishes. With a string of non-Hyrulian words, it only took a few seconds before she disappeared behind smoke - an aftereffect of shape-shifting magic. Once the smoke cleared, Leere spoke.

"Did it - Woah!" Leere began before clutching at her throat. Her light and effeminate voice was now low and gravely. "My voice!"

"No way!" Tebanam said, his face covered with shock and awe. "It worked! I mean, you look exactly the same but . . . But a man!"

Going to the hotel room mirror, Leere was greeted by an adult man in her reflection. Her face was just as pale, eyes just as red and hair just as long. She even still had the beauty spot below the left side of his lip. But there was no mistaking it, she had become a man.

A tuft of brown facial hair covered her chin, a strong jawline and obvious Adam's apple made her look like a normal Hylian man.

"I'm honestly surprised," Leere said as she turned around in front of the mirror. "I haven’t used this spell in years. Not since I was a kid."

Then again, that was when she was young. Where there wasn't really a lot of difference between a prepubescent boy and girl. But looking at herself now, she would honestly not recognise herself.

She could already tell she was a bit taller but only a little, as she compared herself to her mixed-raced younger brother. Leere also felt stronger too, her arm muscles easily bulging out of the shirt she wore.

Now that she mentioned it, her clothes did seem rather tight. Especially around her crotch.

"What the heck?!" Leere shouted at the sight she saw under her pants and underwear.

Tebanam did not seem to feel any shame in joining in and sneaking a peek. And before Leere had the right mind to slap him silly, he was cackling.

"Bahahah!" Tebanam roared, holding his stomach. "I-It's like an acorn! Ahahaha!"

Leere glared at her brother, "Shut it! I'm not a giant Gerudian like you, OK?!"

But nothing seemed to reach Tebanam. He was in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, hunching over as he almost seemed to be in physical pain. Even with Leere - softly - punching him, it took Tebanam a good few minutes to recover.

Wiping his tearing eyes, the young prince sighed. Standing tall, he gave Leere another look over.

"Man, you really are a man, huh? I wouldn't even know it was you if I saw you."

Leere couldn't help but feel proud. Raising an arm and flexing her new muscles. "Are you doubting my magic, little brother?"

Tebanam chuckled, "As if, I know my place."

Leere huffed, "So you should."

"But I've gotta say," Tebanam said, walking a circle around Leere with a hand at his own chin. "You look like the sort of guy I would go after."

"Ew, gross." Leere frowned in disgust.

A look of excitement grew on Tebanam's face. "You know what?" He said excitedly, his eyes wide with excitement. "Let's go out!"

"What?" Leere blanched, "Why?"

"Why not!" His voice filled with enthusiasm. "Let's see how long your spell lasts!"

"How?"

"Let's go to a gay bar!"

"Wha-" Leere began but then shook her head. "No way! They'd definitely know."

"Trust me," Tebanam said, patting his, now, brother on the shoulder. "They won't notice a thing!"

"Wait a second," Leere said, stopping Tebanam in his tracks. Pointing a finger defiantly at her brother, "This was what you were planning from the start!"

"Nu-uh!" Tebanam objected, "I want to . . . test your magic and . . ." He was clearly fumbling for an excuse worthy of his plan but with no success.

Leere crossed her arms over her chest. "Come on, what's going on?"

Tebanam sighed, lifting an arm to ruffle his short, bright orange hair. "Well, I may have, kinda, sort of, got on the bad side of a bartender at the gay bar and got into a fight."

Leere let out a long sigh, shaking her head. "Should I ask?"

"Let's just say that you should never hit on a bartender's sidepiece."

Leere shook her head in disappointment. But this did sound a lot like what her brother would do.

"I'm not going, Teb." Leere said, not helping but sounding sympathetic despite Tebanam's stupidity. "I'm not going to be your bodyguard just so you don't get your ass beaten."

"C'mooooon," Her brother drawled, "Pleeaasee? Have you never wanted to experience what it's like to be a man? Better yet - a gay man? Besides, I'm sure it would be fun!"

Leere pursed her lips and tried to stand for her own convictions. But - for some unknown reason - seeing her fully-grown baby brother plead and implore her made her question her own decision.

Letting out a long exaggerated sigh, Leere rolled her eyes. "Fine! But I'm not the one who's going to save you if you get into any trouble."

On the other side of town, surrounded by brothels, bars and shifty-looking hotels, Oshmel's gay bar was alive with raucous laughter, chatter and music. Men of all ages and races gathered in and around the building. All seeming to be having a great night.

Leere shuffled where she stood at the entrance of the gay bar. She wore a spare pair of Tebanam's old clothes. A bit too big, Leere had made do and created an outfit that suited her new physique.

Leere felt nervous. And she didn't usually get nervous. In circumstances like these, Leere would be excited to go in and have a good time. But with her being under an enchantment, she had a fear that her magic could soon vanish and she knew the many patrons of this male exclusive bar wouldn't be welcome to a woman among them.

Besides, she didn't really know how men, more specifically gay me, flirted. She could use her feminine wiles to make men, and even more women, fall to their knees but she had doubts on her skills as a man.

Luckily, Tebanam - while holding back his clear excitement - comforted her. "You'll be fine, Leer. I promise, if anything happens, we're out."

Leere did not seem convinced, giving her brother a doubtful look.

"Alright, alright." Tebanam said, "I'll pay for your drinks too."

Leere was not one to ignore a free drink, so she grabbed onto Tebanam's wrist and lead the way inside the busy bar.

The gay bar was a nice establishment. With many tables filled with patrons, outside veranda and large dance floor, it was definitely a place Leere would happily go to. The building was dark apart from the candles or torches scattered about, making the mood of the building one of flirtation and mischief. A live band played cheerful yet slow music, a beat perfect to dance to as some patrons were demonstrating.

Going to the bar, Tebanam ordered two of the house's beer. The man behind the bar was quick and settled the two flasks on the bartop for the two siblings to take.

Leere took a hearty sip, welcoming the bitter taste like an old friend, watching over the joyful crowd.

"Hey, is Rukah here?" Tebanam asked the bartender, leaning over to see past the staff behind the bar.

The man shook his head. "No, it's his day off tonight."

Tebanam's said a quick thanks before looking to Leere with relief.

"Let me guess," Leere smiled with bemusement and took another healthy swallow of her drink. "He's the bully you're trying to avoid."

Tebanam nodded, "Trust me, I am not at all sad he isn't here."

Leere's brother then turned back to the bartender a telltale smirk on his lips. He's on the prowl , Leere thought. Not much caring, however.

Both of them finished their first drinks and quickly got a second. Whether that was on Tebanam's tab or the flattered bartender's, Leere didn't know but she was thankful nonetheless.

Just enjoying the amazing vocal acrobatics Tebanam did in flirting with the staff, Leere almost didn't notice a man take the spot on the other side of her at the bar.

"Hey, handsome," The good-looking Hyrulian said with a kind smile. Leaning onto the bartop and looking Leere over.

Tall and decently muscular, Leere would consider him as being a rather attractive man. He had short, blonde hair and soft blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. Maybe it was just Leere's paranoia but the man looked shifty. Her suspicions didn't seem enough to think twice on it, however.

"Oh," Leere said outwardly, surprised someone would come up to her so soon after arriving. "Hey yourself." Giving her normal flirtatious smile.

It seemed to work a treat, the man only smiled wider. "I've never seen you around here before. Traveller?"

"Yeah," Leere answered with a nod, finishing the last drops of her beer. "Passing through to Kahmel."

"Kahmel?" The man repeated in surprise. His eyes not restraining from looking Leere over again. "By yourself? You must be stronger than you look."

Leere smiled, knowing well that the assumption was based on her still obvious height difference with the stranger. Only miniscule compared to that of her Gerudo siblings, clearly, it was something the man had to note.

"Trust me, I can handle myself." Leere countered, giving a wink for good measure.

The man let out a chuckle, "Oh? Can you handle another drink, then?"

"Easily."

The man got a bartender's attention, ordered and within a few minutes another pint of beer was in Leere's hand.

With already half of her third beer past her lips, she felt a hand go around her waist. The man only smiled, shuffling closer to where she stood at the bar.

"So tell me," The Hyrulian began, his voice low yet very audible over the throng of the bar. "What's your name?"

"Leere." She said, curious to see the man's reaction to her effeminate name.

He didn't seem to falter, only smiling further. "Well, Leere, I'm Rukah."

The name sounded familiar but Leere just took it to just be that it was a common Hyrulian name. Raising her glass she nodded to the man, "Nice to meet you, Rukah."

Finishing her drink in one final gulp, the hand at her waist tugged her ever closer to Rukah's side. "What are you doing after this?" His blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark lighting of the bar, making goosebumps rise on Leere's forearms.

"Well I'll probably go home with my-" She turned to point to her brother but found he was very clearly occupied. Leaning over the bartop, he had snagged a quick kiss from the bartender who seemed more than happy for another. " . . . Friend." She finished lamely, impressed yet annoyed by how distracted her brother had gotten in the mere minutes after arriving.

Rukah chuckled, clearly seeing why Leere paused, "Well it looks like your friend is preoccupied at the moment."

Just as Rukah spoke, the music in the tavern changed. Although the same upbeat tempo as the last hymn, this one was lead by a flute. Clearly a favourite of the patrons, the dancefloor was soon stuffed with new dancers.

Rukah seemed to have the same idea, turning to Leere after looking at the crowd. "Would you like to dance?"

Leere didn't need to look over to her brother to know he was still engrossed in seducing the staff so she shrugged. "Sure."

Joining the ever growing group of occupants on the dancefloor, Leere easily found her rhythm. Dancing and swaying to the beat of the song, she was a bit too inebriated to care if she was giving herself away by the rather erotic way she danced. Rukah seemed impressed and no one seemed to be planning to make a big deal out of it.

Leere had found her stride in regards to flirting as a man, easily knowing when to give Rukah or one of the customers a suggestive glance, when to graze her hand or rear against someone else's. Overall, she was having a good amount of fun.

Sadly, the song had to change and although many people still stayed to dance to the new tune, most opted to retreat back to their tables or the bar. Rukah was one of them, offering Leere another drink before leading the way out of the thinning crowd.

Leere could not see Tebanam at the bar, perhaps already having escorted that bartender back to his hotel room. Leere did feel hurt but seeing the newest pint in Rukah's hand, she easily pushed such thoughts aside.

Leere lifted the drink to her lips and gulped nearly half of the amber liquid down before realising something was off. There was this tang at the back of her throat, something that really should not be in a normal beer.

Looking to Rukah, the Hyrulian man seemed to be looking over cautiously, as if expecting something to happen.

Shit , Leere thought. Quickly trying to take a step towards the bathroom and away from the stranger. Intending to throw up the contents of that beer, Rukah grabbed onto her wrist as soon as she turned away from him.

"Hey now," He said, putting on a look of concern. "What's wrong? Where are you going?"

"B-Bathroom," Leere uttered.

The lights seemed to be going brighter as if someone put fuel to the flames. Her legs soon felt weak, her knees eventually feeling unbalance just by standing still. Something was wrong. Something was in that drink.

"C'mon," Rukah tried to soothe her, reaching out his other hand to take Leere's freed wrist. "Don't you wanna dance a bit more?"

"N-No," Leere weakily shook her head, trying but failing to pull out of the man's grip. "There was . . . There was something in my drink."

The world was beginning to spin, disorientating Leere with even the slightest turn of her head. Whatever was in her drink, it was spreading. Pumped into the bloodstream it made quick work with the alcohol. This wasn't an accident, this was done on purpose and Leere knew just who the culprit was.

Taking a step back again, Leere tried to escape from Rukah's clutches but instead lost her footing. Perhaps due to the sticky floor near the bar or just her now feeble legs, the ground came out from under her.

But two strong hands caught her before she landed on the ground. With what strength Leere had, she looked up.

Tebanam was back and he looked worried. Placing a hand on Leere's forehead, he checked her temperature. "Hey, you ok?"

"N-No," Leere said shakily. "Something was in my-"

"He's fine." Rukah interrupted, taking back Leere's wrist and giving it a soft tug. "We were just thinking about going back to my place."

Tebanam frowned, looking from his weakened sister to the stranger. "I don't think so." Easily grabbing onto the Hyrulian's wrist, he squeezed the shorter man hard enough to recoil from his grapple on Leere, who welcomed the protective arm of her brother around her.

"W-We were having fun!" Rukah stuttered, trying to defend himself out desperation. "He'll be fine, I'll look after him. Why don't you go back to chatting with Tirill?" Nodding to the bar, clearly speaking about the man Tebanam had been flirting with. "You two were getting pretty familiar, it'd be a shame if-"

Rukah paused his rambling to scowl. Looking up, he squinted at Tebanam's face as if recognising him. "Wait just a moment . . . Do I know you?"

Even Leere could feel Tebanam stiffen. His arms squeezing ever so tighter around her shoulders as if to keep her from slipping away.

"No you don’t," Tebanam obviously lied. "I'm just a-"

"Yeah . . ." Rukah interrupted, raising a hand to point at the tall man. "Yeah, I know you alright! You're that prick who went after Rilon!"

"Y-You're wrong, I don't know a Rilon." Tebanam continued, taking a cautious step back.

"Don't you bullshit me!" Rukah angrily shouted, catching bystander's attention. "You were here before! Going after him when you knew he was mine!"

"Well, m-maybe I did," Tebanam admitted, "But I didn't know he was yours."

Leere, perhaps too out of it to truly understand the context of this fight, could not help but spare a thought of bemusement. Seeing her tall half-Gerudo brother almost cowering from the puny Hyrulian that stood in front of him.

"Shut it!" Rukah said, clearly intoxicated and visibly angry. Reaching out he grabbed onto Leere's wrist. So tight that is it made her grunt in discomfort. "Imma take your boyfriend and we'll pretend like this never happened."

"Boyfriend?!" Tebanam said, tone heavy with shock and disgust. "He's my sis-brother!" Leere could feel her younger sibling take a step backwards, trying to make space between them and the Hyrulian. "Now let go of him!"

"No way," Rukah said, shaking his head as he closed the space between them again. "I work here, remember? So you better play nice."

With one strong yank, Leere had slipped from Tebanam's safe embrace into the stranger’s arms. Holding both of her arms behind her back and with Leere's symptoms only worsening, there was no way she would have the strength to free herself.

"I'll repeat myself only one more time." Rukah said, a half-crazed smirk curling his face. "You get out of my club and leave your . . . brother with me."

With all the strength she had left, Leere crouched in her assailant's grip. And before either her brother or her attacker could say a thing, she jumped upwards and slamming the back of her head into Rukah's chin and nose.

Leere felt the arms that had been restraining her loosen and took the needed steps to get back to Tebanam's side. Rukah was on the floor, falling onto his ass from the force of the hit. He let out a pathetic groan, clutching at his face as he wriggled to get back up to his feet.

To Leere's dismay, three men separated from the onlooking crowd to join Rukah by his side. Clearly not there to negotiate.

Leere swore under her breath. Knowing her condition, she would only be able to fight off one of the newcomers. But Leere then felt the hand that held her close squeeze her. Tebanam was still with her and clearly, he'd be able to handle the rest of the rabble.

The newcomers were the first to move in. All at once, all three lept to separate the siblings. Leere kicked one in the shin, causing the man to topple. Tebanam used his large forearms to careen across and smack the other two away.

In the ensuing chaos, Leere quickly had her opponent groaning from a broken bone and Tebanam had left the other two men unconscious.

Thankfully, that seemed to be the only people who were planning to side with the now bleeding Rukah. So before any more people got any ideas, the siblings quickly pushed through the onlooking crowd and left the bar in a run.

The night sky outside of Oshmel was beautiful. Without the lights of the city brightening the heavens, the navy blue was dotted by bright stars. It was also silent apart from the soft running of the nearby river flowing through the grasslands and the soft chirping of local insects.

Too bad that was ruined by Leere heaving up the inside of her stomach into the river. Trying as best she could to get rid of any last remnants of whatever Rukah had slipped into her drink. The only comfort being the soft, comforting pat of her little brother against her hunched back.

With her stomach feeling empty and throat sore from choking, Leere laid down in the grass to rest and to stop her head from spinning.

"You feeling better?" Tebanam inquired, sitting next to her and looking over the meadow-covered scape.

"Not a lot," Leere muttered and lifted her had to squeeze it into a fist. "But my energy is coming back."

"Good," Tebanam sighed in relief. "I'm sorry, by the way. I really should've kept an eye on you."

"Yeah, you should've." Leere said dryly but then nudging Tebanam from where she lay to tell him she was joking. "But it's not your fault. It's that son of a bitch Rukah who should by saying sorry."

Tebanam let out an understanding grunt but didn't seem to quite like he had understood that he had been forgiven. Guilt still twinkled in his orange eyes as a frown played at his brow.

"Listen . . . I'm sorry for what I had said. The last time we saw each other, I mean." Tebanam muttered, pulling a blade of grass from the stem to fiddle with it in his fingers. "It was uncalled for."

Leere shrugged, sitting up to watch her little brother twist and tug at the leaf. "It's fine. Me and Rinku weren't really helping things. I don't really know where it all came from but . . . we really shouldn't have ended it like that."

Tebanam nodded, the blade of grass now tatters in his lap. "Yeah . . . me neither."

Nudging her baby brother again, Leere smiled to him. "As if I could ever hold a grudge against you, Teb."

Tebanam could only smile, reassurance being all he needed to let him relax where he sat. "We better get going then." The brother said before getting to his feet. "You can stay in my room tonight."

Leere stood up on her feet but soon felt her knees shake under the pressure of holding herself upwards. Tebanam seemed to see her dilemma and smiled.

"C'mon," He said, crouching and offering his back for her to climb onto. "I'll carry you."

Leere restrained a smile and obeyed, quickly getting into Tebanam's back. She was having a strong sense of nostalgia. They had used to do this when they were kids, only it had been the other way around. Tebanam sobbing from a grazed knee and Leere telling him off for not being careful.

"Goddesses, you're heavy." Tebanam groaned as he steadied himself.

Leere playfully hit her brother, "That's no way to talk to a girl." "But your not a girl," Tebanam retorted, smirking at Leere's still transformed appearance.

"Oh yeah!" The sister gasped, quickly muttering the needed incantation under her breath. She soon felt lighter, her clothes loosening and her chest quickly weighing her down. "Better?"

"Much so," Tebanam answered mid-chuckle.

For that one night, the town of Oshwel was treated to the sound of adult siblings laughter as the two of them, with only one trail of footsteps, ran down the empty streets.

This fic is based on the Zelgan au (and Rinku) by @figmentforms Tebanam is created by @s-kinnaly Leere is created by @mrneighbourlove Towns and other minor characters are by me I highly recommend you look at their content on this to have a better understanding of the story

[writerunsolved]

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 8

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 8/?

Summary:  You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Author’s Note: Just a reminder that, because of Tumblr’s block of links - even internal ones - I can’t link to my previous and next chapters anymore. So be extra sure not to miss any updates by following this blog or subscribing to this fic on AO3 (link in the bio!).

Once again, your reblogs are an essential instrument for your favourite creators’ works to get around and reach a wider audience! 

This one took a while to get fished out of whatever place it is I get my muse, but it did come out in the end. Fun fact: with this chapter we've officially surpassed the length of Animal Farm by George Orwell and we're a few words away from Charlie And The Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl! 

Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy!

Previous chapters can be found on this blog.

Chapter Eight - Whispered Words And Jumping Sparks

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You spent the next couple of days alternatively nursing your sister’s broken heart, and trying - without much success - to understand what happened. Amelia, for her own part, couldn’t do much more than cry and eat ice cream. Ben and she hadn’t been together long, but the relationship had seemed serious enough that you could perfectly understand your sister’s sorrow. In the last period, they’d even been considering getting a house together, which was one of the reasons you were struggling to guess what could have been grave enough to end the relationship.

You didn’t press the issue, Amelia seemed far from keen on sharing the details, so you just made sure he hadn’t laid a hand on her and that she was settled in as comfortably as you could make her. To you, Ben didn’t seem that kind of man, and it luckily turned out he wasn’t, but you could never be too careful.

From the little information you’d managed to gather, Amelia had gone home after work on Friday and she’d had some kind of argument with Ben - about what you didn’t know - after which she’d hastily decided to pack a few clothes and move to your house until she could be sure Ben wouldn’t go to hers again. However, Ben had easily guessed where he would be able to find her and, by Sunday morning, he’d come knocking at your door.

You were still completely clueless about the reason for their falling out when Ben profusely apologised to Amelia, saying that he was wrong and that he had made a huge mistake by hurting her and making her believe he didn’t love her anymore. He insisted that he’d been stupid, acting like a scared child and that he wanted to work hard so that she could forgive him. For her part, Amelia had made him promise that he would talk about his problems next time so that they could solve them together, and had accepted to let him accompany her home. She’d quickly gathered the few things she’d brought and reassured you that she was fine, with the promise to let you know when she got home.

You were briefly tempted to pull Ben aside before they left to ensure that he wouldn’t hurt your sister again, but he turned to you before you had a chance to do so and said with a regretful expression on his face, “I’m sorry,” so you decided to drop it and let them go on their way.

You closed the door behind them and let out a sigh of relief. Now that you were alone, you felt like you’d been keeping your breath for the whole time Amelia had been there. Seeing your usually cheerful sister in such pain had made you restless, and hidden worry had been quietly eating at you for the whole time.

You looked around at the empty house and wondered what to do. Amelia had completely disrupted any plans you might have made for the weekend - not that you’d had any in the first place - and with Monday off too, you found yourself at a complete loss for how to fill your free time. You resolved to make some comfort food after the crisis and to text Tom to let him know what had happened. You’d completely neglected your usual conversation in favour of assisting your sister, but he’d been worried too when you’d left the café and it only seemed right to make him privy to what was going on.

You entered the kitchen and started rummaging through your fridge and cabinet, determined to make a bowl of hot soup. The weather had finally turned for the worst the previous day, and an icy rain had been tapping incessantly at the windows of your apartment since the night. You managed to find some fresh pumpkin that you’d picked up during the week, so you took it out and gathered the ingredients to make pumpkin soup, leaving them on the kitchen island while you texted Tom before starting on the food preparations.

“Hey,” you wrote, “I’m sorry I didn’t text sooner, my sister just left and I’ve been away from my phone to be with her.”

You put your phone aside and started cutting and peeling the pumpkin. A few minutes later, you received an answer.

“Hi, I’m so glad to hear from you,” he replied, “Is everything okay? How is your sister?”

“She’s better now, she and her boyfriend had an argument and she crashed at mine.” You distractedly texted back, while continuing to work on your food. The exchange went back and forth like that for a while.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, is she going to be okay?”

“Well, the thing is,” you wrote, “He actually came and apologised and I guess they’re back together now?”

“That sure is a rollercoaster… a short one,” he joked, “But a rollercoaster nonetheless.”

You couldn’t help smiling down at your phone, grateful for the attempt to cheer you up. “Haha I know, right? But I’m relieved they sorted things out...” You went back to the food briefly, then sent more, “Anyway, how’s your weekend going?”

“Pretty uneventful,” he replied, “I met my younger sister for breakfast in the morning, but I don’t have plans for the rest of the day. What about you?”

“My sister was kind of unexpected, but aside from that, I didn’t really have anything planned to start with. And I have tomorrow off too, so that’s going to be a lot of free time with nothing to do.”

“Oh, wow! Long weekend? Is anything happening tomorrow?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. Nina’s (my manager) parents are visiting from France and she’s giving me a day off too. I’m actually meeting them for dinner tomorrow.”

“That sounds nice,” he wrote back. You kept stirring the quickly-cooking pumpkin and after a few seconds, he wrote again, “So no plans at all for tonight?”

“Nope, nada, zilch.”

“Would you like to go to dinner? My treat.”

Your heart missed a beat or two, his invite both unexpected and exciting. You took a deep breath and turned off the heat, gathering your composure. Then you finally texted back, “I’d like that :) but if I remember correctly, it’s my turn to pay.”

You grabbed a bowl from the cabinet above the sink and made to pour the creamy liquid into it. When your phone vibrated again, you looked away from your hands for just a second, trying to peer at the notification preview and in doing so, spilt some of the bright orange soup on the marble countertop of your kitchen island. You cursed and hastened to put the small pot back on the stove while you grabbed a couple of tissues to clean up the stain, ultimately unable to see what Tom had replied.

When you finally managed to get a hold of your phone, you saw that he’d written, “That’s true in theory, but I’m the one inviting you so etiquette dictates I’m the one who pays,” accompanied by a winky face.

You smirked and wrote back, “Sigh… I can sense a losing battle, so I’ll let it go this time...” followed by, “But I have a good memory.”

He sent back an open-mouthed smiling face, then asked, “Any cuisine preferences?”

“Is it my turn to choose?” you asked him in turn, buying time while you thought about it.

“Why not, I was the one to choose Mama Thai so I guess it’s only fair.”

“How gentlemanly,” you joked, still unsure. Then, you remembered that Nadia had been raving about what she claimed to be the best vegetarian restaurant in the whole of London. Before he answered, you added, “Actually, I might have a place in mind.”

-

You left your house just past 6:30 that evening, having agreed to meet on location at 7:15 PM. The rain had thankfully let up earlier in the afternoon, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way seen as you were going to take the subway to the meeting spot. The restaurant Nadia had been talking about wasn’t too far from King’s Cross station, you’d texted her asking for the name during your conversation with Tom and had reported back to him to make the arrangements to meet. You would have to take the same tube line as when you went to work, and it would take you around half an hour to get there.

You’d kept texting Tom through your lunch and for a couple more hours after that and, when you’d gotten off the phone, you’d looked up the restaurant to decide on an outfit. You’d ended up selecting a fairly casual ensemble composed by a peachy tan silk shirt half-tucked into a pair of light blue mid-rise skinny jeans. You completed the look with a pair of black suede boots and your trusted mid-thigh black coat which you used almost every day. You were strangely aware of Linda’s absence this time, and you almost missed her irreverent opinion and determination to do your makeup, especially when you finally made up your mind and decided to forgo it entirely.

You thought you might have run late when your hair-drier had suddenly stopped working, but you managed to borrow your neighbour Laura’s - who was thankfully home - and you left your house almost perfectly on time if a few minutes later than you’d planned to.

Nevertheless, you arrived at the restaurant a little earlier than anticipated and resolved to wait for Tom outside, when you saw that he was already waiting for you a few steps away from the entrance. He was listening intently to what you supposed was a call on his phone, distractedly looking down on the ground and adjusting a fold on his shirt through his opened coat every few seconds without much thought. You approached him slowly, making time to take him in and unwilling to interrupt the call. You could see his mouth move but you weren’t close enough to hear what he was saying, but you did hear the surprised thrill of a laugh at whatever the person on the other end had said.

You felt tender warmth bloom in your chest. Then, for a split second, a wave of anxiety washed over you, like a portent of fear and danger, but the feeling was gone before you could put your finger on it, leaving behind the prick of confusion. You brushed off the strange sensation, determined to enjoy the evening.

When you finally reached him, Tom was putting his phone away into his pocket and lifting his eyes. He spotted you to his left and greeted you with a sweet smile, turning his entire body towards you and immediately going in to kiss you on both cheeks. You reciprocated the gesture instinctively, your body allowing no time at all for hesitation to settle in.

“Hi!” you blurted, a little louder than you’d intended. His smile widened. You got your voice under control and spoke again, “Sorry for making you wait.”

“It’s no problem at all. I only just got here myself,” he reassured you. “I’m so glad we could meet again,” he paused for a second. His smile turned shy and he hesitantly added, “You look gorgeous.”

“I- I...” you stuttered, at loss for words. You felt like your face was on fire. You hoped with your entire being that your cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Thank you,” you finally mumbled, returning his smile.

“You’re very welcome,” he replied. Then he gestured to the door and asked, “What do you say we go in?” You nodded, he pulled the door open and waited for you to enter before following behind you. You hurried inside, surreptitiously touching one of your reddened cheeks, internally chastising yourself for your embarrassment.

As soon as the door closed behind Tom, a blonde woman wearing a black polo shirt with the name of the restaurant stitched on the chest in thick red thread approached you. “Table for two?” she asked, looking between you.

“Yes, please,” was Tom’s reply.

“Please follow me,” she smiled politely, then turned around and started walking towards a row of tables overlooking the street outside.

You followed closely behind, zigzagging through occupied tables, Tom at your side.

Soon enough, you got to your table. You and Tom stopped, while the waitress continued past you to a small wooden structured pushed to the wall where some cutlery and glasses were kept, along with various condiments and a stack of menus. She grabbed two and got back to you, settling them down between you and Tom. He thanked her, and then she was gone.

You took off your coat and sat down, looking around.

The place was a spacious room with tables of different styles, unified by the same colour palette. High windows surrounded two sides of the restaurant, offering a comforting look at the eerie glow of the nightlife outside. Alongside the windows, the tables were higher and the seats consisted of dark wooden stools you were grateful not to have been seated at. The rest of the seatings were arranged in two more rows, one of which was separated from the main corridor of small light beige tables by ornate wooden panels.

Families, as well as young couples, filled the space that appeared moderately crowded but not stifled. A convivial murmur flowed over the entire place, reaching the elegant bar located at the left end of the room, where more wooden stools allowed patrons to grab a drink without the commitment of dinner. The atmosphere was relaxed and homey but carefully curated like restaurant chains tend to be.

“I like the place,” Tom spoke, breaking your observations.

You turned to him and smiled, “Yeah, it feels very cosy.” He’d taken his coat off too and draped it on the back of his chair, which gave you a better look at what he was wearing. He was more put together than the first time, he’d gone for jeans again but this time he’d opted for a white shirt and a dark blue suit jacket instead of a sweater. His hair was as wild as ever, you could almost picture him absent-mindedly moving his unruly curls out of his face. Just as you were thinking this, one of his curls fell on his forehead. He moved it away and to the wrong side, leaving it sticking up and out from the rest of his hair. You tried to hide the small affectionate smile that took over your face.

A moment of silence fell between you. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it seemed like Tom was determined to say something he couldn’t quite gather the courage to push out. He inadvertently shook his head in a small movement, as if putting aside whatever thought was going through his mind. Then he looked up at you with a gentle smile and said, “We should probably check out the menu.”

You nodded and handed him one of the menus, then grabbed one for yourself. “Shall we share like last time?” you asked him.

“I’d like that, yes,” he replied, so you both concentrated on the list in front of you.

A few minutes passed, and eventually, you both made up your minds. The waitress came over to take your orders almost as soon as you put down the menus and shortly after you were served drinks.

“So, how was your day?” you asked with a nervous but sincere smile, the awkwardness getting to you. You had no idea why you couldn’t seem to make yourselves talk as easily as last time. Even then, it had definitely been slow-going in the beginning, but some embarrassment for a first-time dinner was to be expected. However, you’d met several times now and the painstaking rhythm of your current conversation was starting to take a toll on you.

Tom swallowed the sip of the Roasted Pecan Old Fashioned he’d ordered and smiled back. “It was pretty relaxed,” he answered, “I met my sister in the morning,” - you nodded, he’d said as much in his texts - “But the afternoon was quite slow. How about you? Are you feeling better after what happened with Amelia?”

“Oh, yes, I think so,” you played idly with your own cocktail glass, “I heard from her after we talked, and she seemed to have made up with her boyfriend.”

“Did you manage to find out what happened?” he asked, polite curiosity clear on his face.

“I actually didn’t,” you shook your head and laughed incredulously, “She only sent me a text saying that she was fine, that they were fine.” You shrugged, “Other than that, no explanation.”

He laughed too, “Your sister is quite something.” Then, he seemed to catch himself and hastily retracted, ”That sounded so rude, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” you interrupted him, smiling reassuringly, “I get what you mean. It was kind of a weird situation for me, too. But in the end, I’m just glad everything worked out for the best.”

He nodded, ”Yeah, I’m happy for them. Have they been together long?”

You frowned and looked away, trying to think back to when they started going out. “Uhm… Not very long, no.” You looked back to him and added, “About half a year, I believe. But they did seem to hit it off pretty quickly.” Tom took another sip from his drink and kept listening attentively. You explained, “My sister was super in love straight from the beginning, and it did seem reciprocated. He’s already met our parents, too, it got serious pretty fast.”

He put down his glass and nodded, looking to his lap for just a second. He reached for his glass again but before taking it in his hand he paused and thought better of it. He hesitated, then he finally spoke, “And… Uhm… What about you?”

He was looking intently at you, examining you for an answer, but you weren’t quite sure what he was asking about. You fidgeted nervously but tried not to let your smile falter. “What about me?” you asked him.

He cleared his throat and, with a small wave of his hand, he explained, “I mean, you and Andrea from the café seemed pretty close, are you together?” and looked at you expectantly, frowning slightly and touching his lips with a finger pensively.

You sputtered, opening your mouth several times with no sound coming out. You were completely taken off guard and had no idea what to say. “Oh! No! No, no no, no no no,” you blurted, that was definitely too many No’s. A laugh croaked out of you unintentionally, you slapped your hand on your lips attempting to cover up the noise. When you’d finally regained control over your mouth you tried again, more calmly, “No, we’re not.”

His smile returned at last, and his posture seemed to relax. You hadn’t noticed the tension in his shoulders, but once it was gone, it was unmistakable. He sat back in his chair and fingered one of the corners of his folded napkin on the side of his plate. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply, you just seemed very friendly-”

“Oh no, I mean, we are,” you confirmed, “But that’s just because we’ve known each other for almost two years now,” you explained. You laughed slightly at the thought, and added, “He has a huge crush on Nina, actually.”

“Oh,” he considered, “Oh!” He seemed to come to a realisation. “I didn’t- I mean… I don’t- Is that,” he stuttered, “Is that something that bothers you?” You frowned, confused, so he elaborated, “Is it an unrequited interest situation?”

“No! No,” you denied vehemently, “No, oh my god, not at all.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve known him since before I signed with the label, and he’s always been so supportive,” you clarified, “He’s like a very encouraging brother to me. And his parents have been so kind, too.”

“Oh, I see,” he sighed. He seemed somewhat relieved, “Well, I guess I hope things go well for him. With Nina, I mean,” he finished.

You winced slightly, “Eh… I don’t know about that.” You saw the confusion on his face so you told him, “Nina is a lesbian,” you smiled.

“Ah,” he rubbed at his neck skittishly and smiled nervously, “I had no idea, sorry. I seem to be putting my foot in my mouth a lot tonight.”

You laughed, “It’s completely fine. And well, seen as I’m usually the one doing that, it’s a nice change of pace for once,” you joked.

At that, he laughed too. You lifted your cocktail to your mouth and took another drink. Just then, the waitress accosted your table, carrying several plates with your order in her arms. She put them down in front of you and you both thanked her, finally digging in.

You moved the food around from plate to plate, dividing the dishes you’d ordered so you could both try everything, and spent a couple of minutes just sampling and commenting the dinner. Then the conversation picked up again.

You braced yourself and, trying to gather your courage in the most nonchalant way you could manage, between one bite and the other, you asked him, “And what about you? Are you seeing someone?” Immediately, something in your lower stomach squeezed tight, anticipation from his answer growing steadily in your belly. You looked at him and brought the fork to your lips again, trying to masquerade your nervousness.

He swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and patted at his lips with his napkin. Then he smiled and looked up at you. “Not at the moment, no,” he said, without elaborating further.

His answer was more than enough for your nervousness to dissipate, the painful grip of worry releasing your lungs. Your lips moved to reciprocate his smile and you said briefly, “Oh, I see,” before taking another bite.

You both continued eating, idly chatting away the dinner. Around 9:30 PM, the waitress who’d welcomed you approached your table again and took away your empty plates. Shorty after she came by asking if you’d like dessert and, as you’d already done the first time you’d had dinner together, you opted to share and ordered a slice of Forest Berry Mousse Cake. In what felt like no time at all, that was gone too, and all that remained for you to do was nurse the last inch of cocktail that was left in both your glasses.

You decided it was time to leave when the waitress neared your table again, asking if you cared for something else or if you wanted for her to bring the bill. You accepted the bill and, as you’d predicted, Tom insisted on being the one to pay. You could tell by his determination that there was no way to win the argument and resignedly accepted his kindness, thanking him profusely. You both grabbed your coats and put them on, exiting the restaurant right after. As you’d also done before, you stopped on the curb on the side of the restaurant door again and Tom asked you, “Are you taking the tube?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I’m taking the Northern like towards Morden, how about you?”

“I’m also taking that one, but in the direction toward Edgware,” he replied, then, “We can walk to the station together if you’d like.”

You agreed enthusiastically, “Of course!” And so you started walking through the people passing by pressed side to side.

“Thank you so much for coming out tonight,” he said, hands pushed deep into the pockets of his coat and head turned to you so he could look into your eyes. He was smiling gently.

“Oh, no, I should be the one thanking you,” you protested, absentmindedly playing with one of the corners of your bag, “It was a welcome distraction after the whole ordeal with Amelia, and I had a great time.”

“Me, too,” he replied, “But it was kind of on short notice, so I would have understood if you’d said no.”

You smiled and looked ahead to the road, uncertain if you could say the next few words while looking in his eyes, “I would never have,” you almost whispered. He didn’t respond, and you instinctively looked up, the curiosity to see the expression on his face too strong to resist.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore. He’d lowered his eyes to the pavement, and for a second you thought you’d embarrassed him. You were ready to apologise but just then, you saw a small smile grace his lips, and you noticed the faintest blush high on his cheeks. You looked away again, and another smile flourished on your own lips, filling your mouth with delightful sweetness. Something in your chest exploded with the tiniest pop, and your skin prickled as if dotted by sparklers.

He finally lifted his eyes and looked straight into yours, the smile on his face growing surer and brighter. He offered you his elbow, and you leaned your hand in the bend of his arm, getting ever closer. You spent the remainder of the walk in companionable silence, heat spreading into your bodies from the spot where you touched.

When you reached the station, you stopped a little ways from the entrance and separated, facing each other.

“Thank you,” you told him. If pressed, you wouldn’t have been able to explain what you were thanking him for, but it didn’t seem to matter because he pressed close to you and delicately put his arms around your shoulders. The tenderness of the hug left you breathless, disarmed to the point of being unable to reciprocate for the first few seconds. When you regained clarity, you squeezed him back.

After what felt like an endless time, he let you go.

“I’ll see you soon,” he told you, and you both went your separate ways.

Chapter 9 coming soon

@honeybournehippy​ @namelesslosers​ @unlikelytigerqueen​ @effielumiere​ @theoneannab​ @marikochi​ @sabine-leo​

@huntersvibe & @gaylemonshark: I’m unable to tag you both unfortunately, the reason might be that you have the setting for hiding your blogs on. Let me know if you change them and if you want me to try again!

[sailorportia]

Lost, In More Ways Than One

Fandom: Little Witch Academia

Pairing: Hannah England x Amanda O’Neill

Femslash February 2019 [Index post] Day Three: “Lost”

approx. 1,700 words, rated T

also available on Ao3

In which Hannah and Amanda get lost in the woods and they totally don’t end up in awkward situations.

"Admit it," Hannah said, "we're lost."

"That's such a cliché line," Amanda retorted. "No imagination. Can't you spice it up a little?"

"How about this," Hannah said. "We're so far in these woods that the cops will never find your body after I bury you alive for getting us in this mess!"

"Ooh, a death threat," Amanda said, unfazed. "Very nice. But I know for a fact you'd never go to the trouble of digging a grave yourself. Too much dirt involved."

"Oh, I don't know. I might get my hands dirty just for you."

"That's dangerously close to flirting, Miss England."

Despite Amanda's bravado, Hannah was right: they were desperately, hopelessly lost. Who knew the woods around Luna Nova were so treacherous? It didn't help that it was pitch-black, even-the-moon-ain't-showin'-up dark outside. Amanda and Hannah only had themselves to blame. In one of their seemingly constant arguments they ended up challenging each other to a test of courage: journey deep into the woods at night and back out again together—running away meant an automatic loss. The plan had been to touch a particularly recognizable tree stump and then turn back... but they couldn't find the stump.

"How did you even get us this lost?" Hannah groaned. "All you had to do was walk in a straight line in and out!"

"You know me better than that," Amanda said. "I can't do anything straight. That's more your responsibility."

"If we relied on me, I'd have us walking in two different lines at the same time," Hannah replied.

"Right, right." Amanda said. She was still trying to get used to the fact that Hannah was bi. Not that there was anything to get used to. It's not like she had a reason to be acting differently around Hannah or anything. Knowing that Hannah was technically available to date didn't mean anything to her. Not that Hannah being bi meant that she was automatically available for Amanda to date. For all Amanda knew, Hannah wasn't even into Amanda's type. Not that Amanda had any interest in dating Hannah. Nope. Not at all. She definitely didn't spend any time thinking about that possibility.

"Are you listening to me, Amanda?" Hannah was almost yelling. "I said we should stay put until we figure out how to get out of here."

"Oh." Amanda was grateful the cover of darkness that would conceal her blush. What am I doing, get all lost in thought over Hannah, she berated herself. She plonked down on a fallen log and patted the spot next to her, inviting Hannah to join her.

"I'll pass," Hannah said. "Goodness knows what's on that log."

"Suit yourself. Any ideas how to get out of here, bossy pants?"

"One comes to mind," Hannah said. "How are your marks in astronomy class?"

"Dismal," Amanda answered. "Wait, abysmal. Which is worse?"

Hannah rolled her eyes. She should've known better. "Good thing one of us pays attention in class instead of making paper airplanes out of her worksheets."

"Sneer all you like, but when the Royal Paper Air Force hires me as it's top pilot and gives me tons of medals, you'll sooo jealous."

Hannah laughed, despite her annoyance with Amanda. "Royal, eh? Not American? You plan on staying in the UK?"

Amanda shrugged. "Well, England has its appeals." And wasn't that just the Freudian slip of the century.

Hannah coughed and shuffled awkwardly. And told herself not to read too much into that statement. "Um, anyway. We can figure out which direction we need to walk by using the stars."

"Just like sailors," Amanda said.

"Yeah. How did you know that?"

"I wanted to be a pirate when I was younger. Well, I kinda still do."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Hannah said. "Give me a minute to check out the constellations and I'll be able to point us in the right direction."

"Thank fuck I'm stuck in the woods with you," Amanda said. "I mean—with an egghead like you." Nice save, she thought. What is wrong with me tonight?

It's not like Hannah was anything worth getting worked up about, or so Amanda told herself as she looked over her companion. She's so pale she practically glows in the dark, so who even cares that her skin is flawless? And her hair looks so dorky in that ponytail, it would look so much better if she let it down. And her attitude is almost as bad as mine, we're practically evenly matched. Then Amanda realized that even her insults were failing her. What's the opposite of a backhanded compliment?

Hannah clapped her hands together, startling Amanda. "I've got it. We went north and drifted east, so we just need to follow that star, going south-west."

"If you say so." Amanda hopped off the log and went to Hannah's side. "Lead the way, Magellan."

Hannah shifted awkwardly again. "Francis Drake would be a better reference," she said. "He was an English explorer. And a pirate."

"Do tell."

Whereas the journey into the forest was made in awkward silence punctuated by barbed comments, on the way back Hannah entertained Amanda with the exploits of Sir Francis Drake: his circumnavigation of the globe, his piracy in the Caribbean, his efforts against the Spanish Armada. Hannah grew more animated as the story went on, seemingly encouraged by Amanda's interest increased. Everything was going swimmingly.

Until they encountered complications.

Hannah stopped dead in her tracks. "My foot is stuck."

A tree root had ensnared Hannah. Quite intentionally, seeing as it was one of the mischievous mandrake trees that enjoyed trolling humans who wandered the forest. It was bad enough that they'd made hideous wailing sounds at the pair all night, now this?

"Frickin' mandrakes," Hannah said. "Can you hold your wand light down by my foot?"

"Why?" Amanda was feeling particularly self-conscious around Hannah and didn't want to get that close to her bare legs; the wand light would make it impossible for Hannah to miss the way Amanda had been looking at her all night.

"I can't use magic to coax the root off me and hold the light at the same time," Hannah said.

"What's the problem? I thought all bisexuals could dual-wield. Isn't that one of your class features?"

"Ha ha, very funny." In any other situation Hannah might've laughed for real. "I need my other hand to pull the root off my foot once I've charmed it. Get on your knees and help me out here."

Amanda felt a surge of feelings she didn't have time (namely private time) to address. She did as she was told and held her wand light near Hannah's trapped foot. Hannah kneeled down as well and used a spell to relax the root. As it loosened, Hannah tugged it away with her free hand.

Amanda didn't pay much attention to this process; she was far too distracted by her proximity to totally-not-worth-getting-worked-up-over Hannah. As she weren't so distracted, she might've noticed Hannah's hands trembling for similar reasons.

Hannah freed her foot and both girls stood up very quickly, eager to put some distance between them. They continued their walk in silence.

Until their next complication.

Their wand lights disappeared, snuffed out like a candle flame.

"What the hell?" Amanda yelled. "What now!?"

"We must be near a forest dragon nest," Hannah explained. "Dragons absorb magic energy, that must be why our wand lights went out."

"Thanks for the lecture, doc, but how are we going to find our way back now?"

"Slowly." Hannah was too nervous to say the next part, so she locked arms with Amanda without saying a word.

Big mistake.

"What are you doing!?" Amanda did not need this kind of pressure right now.

"We can't see anything without our wand lights!" Hannah said, her voice shrill all of a sudden. "If we're not careful, we'll get lost. We need to stick together."

"D-Do we need to stick this close?" It was important for Amanda to know; her heart was in danger of imploding.

"L-l-like you aren't loving this!" Hannah stuttered. "I-I-I bet this was your plan all along! You wanted me to cling to you, didn't you!?"

Amanda almost jumped out of her skin. It would've made for a great escape from this situation. "W-w-why would I want you clinging to me with those bony arms of yours!"

"My arms aren't bony! They're slender! We can't all have nice muscles like you!"

"What was that about my nice muscles?" Amanda wanted to know more about Hannah's opinions on her physical appearance, but something more pressing had just come up. "Wait, is that light?"

Amanda and Hannah's eyes were drawn to the tree line. They had made it back to the edge of the forest, and they could see lights coming from the windows of the school building.

"We made it back!" In her excitement, Hannah hugged Amanda. And immediately backed off out of embarrassment.

"Let's get out of here," Amanda said. "You can cling to me later."

Hannah made a strangled noise, but Amanda was already too far ahead of her to hear it. They emerged from the forest and started brushing themselves off and picking grass and other forest debris off their clothes.

"I guess we both lost, since we never made it to the stump," Amanda said.

Hannah made a noncommittal noise. "I wouldn't say that. It doesn't feel like a loss to me."

"I guess I did get something out of it." Amanda conceded. "I learned a bit about being lost in... a forest."

"What do you mean by that?" Hannah asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Amanda reached out and pulled a twig from Hannah's hair.

Amanda couldn't be sure because of the darkness, but she could've sworn a blush crept into that pale, glow-in-the-dark, flawless skin of Hannah's. "Like you have any secrets I'd like to know." Her voice wasn't the slightest bit convincing.

"Speaking of secrets," Amanda said, "let's tell the others that we actually made it."

"Let's definitely not mention the part where our wands went out."

"Yeah, that. Definitely that."

Oddly enough, neither of them waited to tell their roommates all about what happened when they were lost in the woods.

[shadowluver1242]

I finished “The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck”

I read the full 12 chapters, plus the “Companion” section that had bonus stories in between the chapters, and “The Last Sled to Dawson”, “The Dream of a Lifetime”, and “A Letter From Home.” 

This has to be my favorite comic series I’ve read so far. Not just because it’s Scrooge, but there’s so much heart and emotion put into it and you’re able to follow the story so easily (which for me is hard as I get easily distracted and forget where I’m at). But this story kept my attention and made me want to keep going to the next chapter, every night I thought “just one more, just one more!” I absolutely loved the story. If you want a more in depth review chapter by chapter, read below. (SPOILERS) 

Again, thank you so much for who ever first made me find this (I actually can’t remember but it was probably a mix of everyone) as well as the album that made the story SO MUCH BETTER. Listening to the music while reading the chapter associated, really made you feel like you were in the story with the characters. I highly recommend reading this comic while listening to the music if any of you have not already. If anyone needs links or more info, feel free to ask!

This part will be a chapter by chapter review/my thoughts (some chapters might be merged together if they have similar topics).

“Of Ducks, Dimes, and Destinies”: I wasn’t sure what to expect going into this, but apparently this chapter was the intro, though it’s more like a AU of sorts. I thought it was cute though seeing Magica out of her element. My favorite part of it had to be her not recognizing young 10 yr old Scrooge while confusing Fergus for the rich old duck. But in her defense, they do look a lot alike.

“The Last of The Clan McDuck”: Now the story really begins! I wanted to get more history on Scrooge so that was one of the main reasons I wanted to read this series. It was actually a bit of a surprise to see the pampered, penny-pincher a humbled, poor and very sweet boy. Seeing how he turned into almost a completely different person is a bit sad really, but at least we know in his later years some of that sweet, caring side is still present. I admire Scrooge’s bravery in how willingly he left his family and the only life he knew for uncertainty and possibly danger at only 13 years old. He certainly matured very fast and unfortunately that forced his childhood to end at an early age.

“The Master of the Mississippi”: This was probably one of my least favorite chapters if I’m being honest. It was fun seeing a teenage Scrooge adapting in his new life in America and Uncle Pothole was certainly an interesting character! Plus seeing the Beagle Boys’ origins was interesting as well.

“The Buckaroo of the Badlands,” “The Cowboy Captain of the Cutty Sark”, “The Raider of the Copper Hill,” Also “The Vigilante of Pizen Bluff”: So all of these chapters are in the “Wild West” portion of Scrooge’s life; his teenage years and early twenties. Seeing Scrooge already fighting for his fortune and failing at every turn was almost surprising in that he always seems to succeed in life. I was so convinced he’d strike it rich on the Copper Hill, but fate seemed to have other plans for him. However at this point in his life he’s still staying true to his roots and vowing to earn his fortune honestly. (But to be fair he does get $10,000. And back then that’s got to have been like a million dollars now a days.) I’d also wondered how he’d get along with animals, and it turns out he’s a real Disney princess. He gives love and respect to animals and they love him in return.

“The New Laird of Castle McDuck”: NERVE RACKING. Not only do the McDuck’s risk losing the ancestral home to their arch nemesis, but Scrooge DIES. (or just gets knocked out?) Anyway he goes to McDuck heaven where he almost stays before finally getting another chance (for becoming the stingiest person to ever live). He ends up using all the money he got from the Copper Hill to pay for the McDuck Castle. Plus we also see Scrooge use his specs for the very first time, though it’s only for reading.

“The Terror of the Transvaal”:  Ah Flintheart, you were a scumbag before Scrooge came into the picture. Scrooge is a lion whisperer apparently, and he makes fun of Flintheart in front of the entire town before throwing him in jail, making a lifelong enemy.

“The Dreamtime Duck of the Never Never”: I was excited for this one. Love that Australian Outback theme! Scrooge rides on a camel head, which is perfect. I still love seeing how much animals love and trust Scrooge. He’s started to become less trusting of people due to being tricked at every turn, and therefore is a bit skeptical of the shaman in the desert. However seeing the dream, or prophesy of sorts, come true (which was super cool btw), it starts his admiration of history and architecture. Scrooge almost took that giant Opal that could easily have made him rich, but that would have been dishonest, and Scrooge decides against it (a bit begrudgingly). I’m so happy he got his dime back, it was worrying seeing him lose hope that his fortune would never come. He’s worked so hard and to give up now would be devastating. Thankfully he was inspired and his story finally started to look up.

“The King of the Klondike”, “The Prisoner of White Agony Creek”, “Hearts of the Yukon”, “The Last Sled to Dawson”: ...no words. I knew these would be my favorite sections. Yukon Scrooge, upper 20′s - early 30′s - in his prime, Scrooge. The beginning of his fortune. The beginning of Goldie. GOLDIE. Where do I even start?! Whew, this is going to be long. First of all, the whole ordeal Scrooge had to go through just to get to White Agony Creek was ridiculous. Finally he finds where the gold should be, but it’s not quite that easy. Everyone in Dawson mocks him endlessly for not spending any money on fun, which is completely unfair. The absolute worst part is when that mean old pig kidnaps him and chains him to the smokestacks of the boat. (Seriously this boy gets knocked out so much I’m surprised he doesn’t have a brain injury) The men mock him and then read the two only letters he’s ever gotten from his family out loud, one of which is from his mother who says they’re falling behind on payments for the castle, and the next...his father informing him that his mother has passed away. The men even mock him in his mother’s death. And Scrooge...freaking pulls a Sampson and pulls the smokestacks until they collapse onto the boat, throws a grand piano through a stained glass window, beats up any and all the men who dare fight him, and then drags the pig’s listless body through the main road in town for all to see until he can throw him to the mercy of the ‘law’ in the area. Then comes Goldie, he kidnaps her, and brings her back to his home for stealing his goose egg nugget (the biggest gold nugget ever) to show her how hard a miner has to work. They stay together alone in the wilderness for a whole month. My gosh was this chapter full of sexual tension. I’m such a die-hard Scroldie shipper now I can’t even deny it. Eventually the two part their ways, but end up meeting again in the near future when Goldie saves Scrooge from losing his claim (in a roundabout way). Then we get to see Scrooge’s last trip to Dawson before leaving the Yukon and moving on with his fortune. He loses his sled and has to return 50 years later to get it with Donald and the boys. The only thing of importance in the sled was old memories, but it was worth the fight for old Scroogey. This section was definitely the best, but molds Scrooge’s rough and tough attitude. 

“The Billionaire of Dismal Downs”: After more than 20 years, Scrooge is finally coming home to Dismal Downs successful, he’s a billionaire. The whole town has come to greet him and as soon as he shows up, they give him a big round of...tomatoes and insults hurling at him. After all he’s done this is how he’s treated??! His wild temper quickly flares and Fergus is surprised at how his son has changed, as well as the town who thought he was such a nice boy. The town people believe he no longer belongs in Scotland. After a quick visit to his mother’s grave insert sobbing here Scrooge decides to participate in the games to show how much he belongs, he even wears a kilt! Now Scrooge should have dominated this, however he’s completely forgotten the rules, and therefore disqualifies himself almost every time. A young boy named Scottie tries to show him the ropes, however fails miserably. Eventually they return to the castle where his sisters make fun of Scrooge’s lock of golden hair hurr hurr and they all decide to move to Duckburg, America, that is, except Fergus who says he’s too old to move again. The chapter ends with ghost Fergus (who’s passed away in the night) and ghost Downy waving goodbye to their children before joining McDuck heaven. I literally cried in this chapter.

“The Invader of Fort Duckburg”, and “The Sharpie of the Culebra Cut”: Some more important chapters, but not extremely interesting in my opinion. We see the founding of Duckburg and the Junior Woodchucks, as well as the Panama Canal and more of Scrooge suffering from his sisters, who make him wear his specs full time after he repeatedly makes mistakes due to his failing eyesight.

“The Empire-Builder from Calisota”: Sigh. We see the deep fall of Scrooge’s morals. He visits his sisters, whom he hasn’t seen in quite a while, and takes them to Africa where he’s working on his current dealings with the natives. Instead of making fair trades like in the past, he uses cunning tricks to minimize his costs in buying the diamond mines he seeks. His sisters criticize him, but he brushes them off. He moves on to a voo-doo native tribe (his first mistake) who doesn’t want to sell. After being humiliated in front of his kin, he goes into town and recruits several people to help him burn down the village and destroy everything in sight while his sisters return to camp, ashamed of their brother. Scrooge then puts on a disguise and ‘rescues’ the clan leader who previously embarrassed him, and tricks him into signing over his land. This is far from the kind, humble, honest boy we knew in the beginning. He returns back to camp, triumphant, to gloat to his sisters only to find they’ve left him. There’s a lone note remaining saying he’s not the man they used to know and to come back once he changes his ways. Scrooge is initially enraged, feeling betrayed. However as he argues with himself, his father’s voice comes into his head, reminding him how he wanted to make his fortune honestly, and has now just committed his first (and only) dishonest trade. Scrooge realizes what he’s done, and as he tries to run after his sisters, the witch doctor returns and casts a curse on him to have a zombie attack him. However Scrooge is still in disguise, and quickly makes himself look normal, which tricks the zombie. However for the next several years the zombie would haunt him and occasionally show up. In Scrooge’s quest to apologize to his sisters, he makes many sidetracks in making his fortune. The zombie even causes the crash of the Titanic that Scrooge was riding on. (seriously everything is his fault) Finally, after 27 years, he returns to Duckburg to stay. His family has heard he was coming and decided to put aside their differences and be a family once again, even bringing the young Donald and Della. However Scrooge has completely changed, for the worse, and completely ignores his family, eventually chasing them out of his life, for good, but not before the young and feisty Donald can give him a kick in the rear.

“The Richest Duck in the World”: Feels. All feels. We finally see Scrooge as the miserable old man we know him as. Alone and bitter and cut off from everyone. But he becomes too lonely one Christmas and invites Donald and the boys up to the mansion, if only to show them the wealth and future inheritance when he’s gone. It’s as if Scrooge is expecting to die fairly soon, and he’s completely given up on everything. The bin is shut down, he’s not making any money or traveling anymore, he doesn’t leave his house, and he hasn’t even swam in his money in years. He really has just given up. But the boys manage to inspire him, in a way that they literally make him so angry he just can’t take it anymore and eventually returns the swift kick to Donald. Afterwards we see rejuvenated Scrooge - though still elderly, he feels full of life once again. Start DuckTales story... 

“The Dream of a Lifetime”: I just had to read this because of the jumps in Scrooge’s dreams through his lifetime. It was adorable seeing young Scrooge, especially 10yr old Scrooge cussing out his nephew Donald for interrupting his dreams. Then on top of all that it ends with Scrooge finally reaching Goldie on the burning stage (which never happened), and the blushinggg hnnghhh and then freaking Donald sitting there watching the whole thing, just yes.

“A Letter From Home”: I had to read this one simply because I had read that Scrooge and Matilda make up. Boy howdy was this an emotional roller coaster, starting with Scrooge visiting his parents’ grave. Tears. Literal tears. Then Matilda wants nothing to do with him, that surprised me a bit considering how sweet and soft-spoken she was when she was younger. Plus she breaks the news about how Fergus never wanted Scrooge to find the treasure and calls him a bad son. My gosh my heart is aching for Scrooge at this point. The antagonist suddenly pulls a gun on Matilda, and Scrooge jumps in front of her without hesitation. Thank goodness the gun ‘misfires’. That definitely changed things between the two. Finally we get to see the interaction we’ve been waiting for. Scrooge and Matilda finally yell talk things out, and somewhat uncharacteristically, Scrooge cries and pleads for forgiveness. However, Matilda finally gets to hear Scrooge’s side and realizes just what he’s been through as well. They find a letter to Scrooge from Fergus, who actually did want Scrooge to find the treasure, and told him he and his mother were proud of him. It was one of the only letters Scrooge ever received from his parents, and he never, since the day they died, knew they were proud of him. sobs

That was a lot longer than necessary but even if you guys only read the sections you want that works. Thank you again!

[grubloaf]

Whole band Kidfic, or Skwistok kissing practice >:]

[literarynerd05]

Grief, depression, and more

The last year has been a rough one. I started to go back to college full-time last year. The first week of school I broke my ankle. Not only did I break it but I also sprained it and bruised the bone. Let me tell you that a bruised bone hurts like fucking hell. Because of this I was off work for quite some time (and I had already cut way down on my hours because of school.) Once I had healed I decided not to go back to work right away because the end of the semester was coming up and my mental illnesses started to act up. I finally went back to work but quit after only being back a few weeks because they used how long I was gone to put me back down to base pay, aka they took away my raise. I knew it was not a mistake because the owner of this place is vindictive and only cares about you when it suits her. I quit and was told that I was “blackmailing” her by quitting. (Yeah, I know dumb shit.) 

I decided to just focus on school and live off of my tax refunds but my mental illnesses were not getting better, only worse. My anxiety was becoming debilitating, coupled with my depression and then insomnia and hypersomnia decided to come to play as well. I ended up taking a medical withdraw for that semester and worked hard to get back to a norm mentally speaking. I thought that I was fine and started back to school in late August. 

And here is when life decided to throw even more lemons at me. I had to stay home the first full week of school because I had pink eye. Normally you are given antibiotic eye drops for this but the ER doctor thought that it was caused by allergies. He was wrong. I spent the week with very little vision in my right eye and did not feel safe driving because of this. I went to the doctor at the end of that week and found out that it was regular pink eye, so I had spent the entire week unknowingly contagious. My first thought? It was a good thing I stayed home. Some of my instructors however? Thought that I should have been there even after finding out that I had been unknowingly contagious for the entire week. So beginning of the semester and I am out of absences in two of my classes. Joy. So all I have to do is not get sick for the next 15 weeks, easy. Not like flu season is going to be coming nor the time of year when everyone is sick. 

Yeah, of course I got sick again. I ended up getting a sinus infection that knocked me down for over a week. Because of this I was going to automatically fail those 2 classes that I had already used up my absences in. Was basically told this while I was still sick. Nothing like knowing you will automatically fail two classes just for being sick. (My bad, I also missed a day in these classes because I overslept. I am okay with getting penalized for that day.) Now we are in October, the 11th to be exact. I went back to classes that day (the ones that weren’t going to fail me) I was supposed to go see Blue October in concert that day but gave up my ticket because I was sick and because I was leaving the next day to go to Texas with my dad to see my family. We go to Texas, had a good time, got to see most of my nieces and nephews. I get an email while there that I have to drop those two classes since I will automatically fail them. We get back on the 20th of October. 

I go to classes and everything the next day and stop by and fill out the drop form for those classes that day. Cool, now everything can get back to normal and I can focus on the rest of the semester. The next day I had a doctor’s appointment in between classes so I came home after my first class that day. My last class did not start until 2 so I was able to spend time with my dog and cat that I had missed the whole week I was gone. When I left around 1:30 my cat went out (she was an inside/outside cat.) When I got back home she didn’t come in but I was not worried, she liked to stay outside longer some days. But as each hour passed and she did not come in whenever I went out with my dog, I started to get super worried. When I was about to go to bed around 8, I took my dog (Nike) out and tried to get Lilo (my cat) to come in. She did not come. At this point, I just had a feeling that something wasn’t right. I kept trying to get her to come in and even walked around calling for her and shaking a cup of food. I needed to get to bed because I wanted to go to work at school early the next day to make up some hours. I kept trying to find her and get her to come in but she never came. I ended up going to bed late and was not going to go anywhere until I knew that she was okay. I couldn’t look for her very well at the time because it was dark. The next morning about 8:30 I got up and went right out to look for her. I soon found her but I was too late. She was gone. Something had attacked and killed her. I found her in bushes by the abandoned house next door. I cannot begin to describe the sound that I made when I found her. I wish I had had the money to get her cremated but sadly, I did not. I got a blanket that she liked to lay on (and that my dog did as well) and wrapped her in it. When I first found her, she was under my house in the crawl space. So, I figured I would put her as close to there as I could, it seemed fitting. I say when I found her but really, she found me. She adopted me. She decided that I was her human and she lived here and that was that. In the Spring I plan on planting flowers there and my friend made me something to mark her grave. 

At first I handled it by randomly crying and putting everything into school. I even stayed at school as late as I could most days. I pushed on. I ran from how I was feeling. It finally caught up to me around my birthday. Apparently my birthday is a trigger for me anyway because that is around the time that my mom stopped talking to her family. My birthday week did me in. I collapsed into myself. I kept trying to crawl my way back out of the dark hole that I was back in but could not find the light. The week after I thought I was better and planned on going back to classes but  I had taken my cats stuff out of my room at the beginning of that week. That hit me really hard. It kind of cemented the fact that she was gone. 

So, now I am back to failing college again. The two father figures in my life (my father and my ex-stepdad (who has been in my life since I was 4)) do not understand what I am going through at all. I have barely been taking care of myself the last few weeks, so things have been ignored. (aka the dishes, school etc.) My dad decides to take pictures of the dirty dishes and post it on Facebook. So, on top of how I am already feeling, I get to see these people that do not even know me or my situation berating me and saying all kinds of nasty things, telling my dad to kick me out etc. He did this 2 weeks in a row. A few of his friends recognized that I was having mental health issues and tried to get him to understand. I talked to my ex-stepdad today and of course had to tell him about school. His reaction was what I expected it to be and when I told him it was depression again he said that it is just an excuse I use basically to be lazy. He has never understand that there is something chemically wrong in my brain that causes this, not including the trauma that I have endured. 

I can only handle so much and at some point, I break. I try and I try to keep pushing on but that only works for so long. I do not like being my age and depending on my dad. I wish I could be better. I wish I did not have depression, anxiety, PTSD, and insomnia. I wish I could just “get over it.” I wish I could just “move on.” But I can’t. My cat was not just a pet. She was my baby. A piece of me is missing and I feel so empty. I feel lost again. I feel like a failure again. I just want to succeed for once in my life. I just want things to go right for once. I am tired of everything going to shit every time I turn around. I want to be out of debt. I want to have my own car...my own place. I want more animals. I want to help other people. I wish I could do some sort of magic and make the people in my life that do not understand what depression really is, what it really is like in my head, feel what I feel. I want them to try to live a day in my head. I just want to be better. I want to be happy. I am going to take a break from school and work and save up some money again. I know having money again will help me immensely. I actually have a good opportunity that has come up that has the potential to make some decent money. The only one that was excited for me was my best friend. 

I think that is all I have for now...I have rambled on quite a bit. Here is a picture of my beautiful Lilo that I took for a photography project. 

[funkzpiel]

AND THE TAG READ SIMPLY: PRETTY - CH8

Words of comfort and affirmation bubbled to his tongue – He’s caught, we have him. Don’t worry. He’s at MACUSA, he’ll never hurt you again. But one look, and Newt realized that the context of Graves’ question was not ‘please say he’s not here.’ It was ‘please say he’s coming home soon.’

“He’s… away,” Newt said lamely, eyes flickering to glance at Graves now that the man felt confident enough to speak with him. Graves was leaning far enough forward now that his shoulders were visible, pale and naked. Newt felt his cheeks begin to burn at the implication, and even more so when he caught sight of the thick leather collar that hung snuggly around Graves’ throat – Grindelwald’s symbol hanging delicately next to a small gold tag that read simply: ‘Pretty’.

FANTASTIC BEASTS KINK MEME FILL Grindelwald is captured, they track down Graves, but instead of finding a locked up and tortured Graves they find Graves naked and in a collar, napping on a soft bed without a hint of recognition in his eyes. Turns out Grindelwald messed with Graves’ mind, removed all his memories and made him believe that he’s Grindelwald’s pet.

Includes: Gellert Grindelwald x Graves, Newt x Graves, Non-Con, Rape, Stockholm Syndrome, Bondage, Pet Play, Forced Pet Play, Collars, Non-Con Body Modification, Animal Ears, Animal Behaviors/Qualities, Mind!Fuck, Memory Loss/Alteration, Master/Pet, Dubious Consent, Angst, Literally Graves Believes He’s A Dog, I AM TRASH

CHAPTER 8

It was a memory they played again and again, and Grindelwald never tired of showing it.

When Grindelwald opened the front door of Graves’ flat after a long day of impersonating the man, it was to the sight of said director laying a few feet from the entry way, trussed up in an exotic crisscrossing of bindings from one of the trap spells he had left upon the door. With a soft, knowing sigh, Grindelwald merely swept into the flat and gently closed the door behind him before getting a better look. He walked up to the bound man until he was looking straight down his nose at him; a small, pitying smile on his lips as he took in the director laying helplessly on his floor – eyes wide and staring up at him.

The leather that bound him was soft – intentionally so, Grindelwald didn’t want to hurt his pet after all – but tight and merciless in its constricting. Thin black straps wove in neat lines this way and that around Graves’ body, contrasting gorgeously with his milky pale skin and the soft pink of his flesh where the straps bit too tight. It left him with his arms pulled tight to the small of his back, leather crisscrossing from wrists to shoulders and his ankles bound back to the meat of his thighs. From there, the bindings were far more visual than they were efficient; black lines twisting around the sharp jut of his hips and tracing the long curve of his spine, hugging his ribs, just grazing his nipples in a tight diamond of straps, and finally winding around his jaw and into his mouth. What a beautiful creature, his Pretty.

It had been a clever spell he had decided to leave upon the door on a whim one evening. Something only activated by his wards sustaining any significant damage – magical or otherwise – should anyone try to dismantle the magic that kept Graves safely inside. Grindelwald had actually forgotten about it, as sure as he was that Graves would never risk triggering his collar by using magic again. And for months, he hadn’t.

Until today.

Which meant the man had used magic, and with that thought, Grindelwald felt a little plume of excitement blossom in his chest. But he didn’t investigate, not yet. Instead, he simply watched and let Graves stew below him – curious as to which Graves he was dealing with.

And when his captive did not immediately begin to shudder in obvious anxiety from disobeying him, he knew. At least he wouldn’t have to hide his own magic tonight.

“Ah,” Grindelwald said as a long, cruel smile slowly split his stolen face in half. “You’re back, director. It’s been a while.”

Beneath him, Graves wriggled, nostrils flared as he breathed heavily through his nose. He had his cheek pressed against the soft, glossy hardwood floor as he tried to wriggle up, ignoring the drool that dribbled ever so slightly from where the leather bit tight against the corners of his mouth.

Grindelwald felt the crotch of his pants begin to tighten, but ignored it as he slowly fell into a squat beside his pet.

“I was beginning to think you were gone, dearest,” he said as he reached out, ignoring the way Graves’ jerked back as he tucked a sweaty lock of hair back from his brow. “I should have known better. Something as tenacious as you takes time to break properly, don’t you?”

Below him, Graves growled from deep inside his chest, only to still – ears tucked back – when he realized what he had done. Not because he had threatened Grindelwald, Pretty’s Master, but because he had growled while in his right mind. The lines were blurring. Grindelwald smiled.

“Not much longer now though, huh, pet?” He mused, reaching down to grasp Graves’ chin and run the pad of his thumb along the soft stretch of the man’s lower lip. “Not when you triggered the collar yet again. You’re so eager to be complete, aren’t you? To be mine.”

Graves jerked his chin away and visibly clamped down on another growl before it could escape, eyes fierce from where they glared at him beneath heavy brows. Grindelwald chuckled, then made a show of examining him – turning him gently this way and that. The dark wizard could have forced all the changes he had in mind upon the man in one go, but why rush the journey? It was far more entertaining to watch the man inflict the changes upon himself, after all; one by one falling victim to the power of his own magic. No one to blame for his modifications but himself.

“So what did you trigger this time? Still no tail, I see. A pity,” he said softly, only to draw back onto his heels and squint down at the man when he could not find any noticeable changes. But the wards on his door were damaged, so the director had done something… But what? When he caught the pleased look on Graves’ face in the wake of his own frustration, Grindelwald merely snorted at him and rose to his feet to further investigate.

Everything in the flat looked as he had left it on first sight. It was only as he took a step from the front hall and into the main living area that he felt glass crunch beneath his shoe. Upon pulling his foot back to better inspect it, everything immediately clicked.

A conduit – small and fragile and made of glass, but powerful if used correctly. Grindelwald made a show of looking Graves in the eye as he knelt to grab one of its remaining pieces and hold it to the light between them. In its depths, he could see fragments of his own magic swirling – details of his wards. Graves must have gotten about halfway through funneling the wards into the small orb before enough damage had occurred and triggered his trap spell, flinging him back from the door and no doubt smashing the little artifact in the process. It was clever. While it would have taken the man a long time, Graves could have easily guided the entirety of Grindelwald’s wards into the little orb without ever having to use magic strong enough to trigger his collar and another change. If fact, given enough patience and luck, Graves could have been a free man today.

And all because Grindelwald had made the mistake of thinking the director’s mind was finally gone. After four and a half months of conditioning, he had decided to entrust Pretty with free reign of the flat out of sheer curiousity. And for the past week he had come home every night and found the man just as he had left him – cutely curled upon the dog bed at the foot of the four poster bed that had once belonged to Percival Graves, wiggling eagerly in greeting.

What had changed?

Grindelwald let the little shard fall from between his fingers, relishing the way Graves flinched when it shattered even further on impact. He was beginning to tremble now, the dear thing; Pretty’s mounting fear battling with the director’s frustration in his eyes.

Pretty was slowly coming back. Grindelwald smiled.

“Clever, director,” he said as he rose and made his way back to the prone man. “I’m impressed. You never cease to impress, in fact.”

He knelt down again to run a finger along the expanse of one of the man’s sharp cheek bones, “Ever since the night you almost got away, you’ve never stopped impressing me.” He moved his fingers down then, along the long line of Graves’ throat – his heartbeat aflutter just beneath his fingertips. “Whether on your feet and ready for a fight,” he said, then skimmed his fingers across the hard nub of one of the man’s nipples, “Or on your back and eagerly awaiting me to take you.”

“Don’t touch me,” the man growled thickly as best he could through the leather in his mouth and jerked back again, his naked skin squealing against the hardwood.

Grindelwald smiled kindly, but it was nothing close to actual kindness. And Grindelwald knew Graves could see it, because the man beneath him hunched in on himself ever so slightly and trembled – his ears tucked back despite himself. Like a viper, Grindelwald snatched the director’s chin back into his grasp and pressed hard on his bottom lip, exposing the white line of the man’s teeth beneath it before slipping his thumb inside entirely. When Graves didn't bite, Grindelwald smiled - pleased.

“As fun as you are, director, I do miss my pet,” Grindelwald mused, eyes twinkling in the midst of Graves’ rage. “Let’s bring him back, shall we?”

And then he apparated them to the bedroom.

Graves blinked, disoriented, as Grindelwald slid back against the headboard and quickly manhandled Graves into a straddle atop his lap – still tightly bound.

“It’s nice to be able to use my gifts in front of you again, dear heart,” Grindelwald said as he snapped his fingers, in an instant removing his clothes that stood between them. Above him, Graves shuddered as the hard length of Grindelwald’s cock sprung free to press thick and heavy against the cleft of his ass.

Curious, Grindelwald removed the leather that filled Graves’ mouth with a sweeping gesture, and immediately, Graves began to protest their activity.

“D-don’t,” Graves stammered, his confidence waivering as he visibly fought to stamp down on a moan. And in his eyes, Grindelwald could see the beginnings of his Pretty manifesting. He smiled and reached up to brush a thumb along the intricate engraving of Graves’ tag, his nail biting into the “P”. Graves shivered.

“This doesn’t have to be so hard, dear thing,” Grindelwald said kindly – slyly­ – as he then moved his hand up to cup Graves’ jaw. He watched as the man’s long, sooty lashes fluttered against his cheeks and felt his dick harden even further against the man’s ass. Graves had felt it too, if his shudder was anything to go by. “You enjoy this. You know you do. Just let it happen. Just give in.”

And before Graves could say a thing to contradict him, the dark wizard conjured a thick, hot line of slickness in Graves’ rectum – filling him until it began to weep from his asshole in a soft gush. Above him, Graves threw his head back and keened, eyes barely open as he struggled for control.

“Ssh, ssh, shh,” Grindelwald whispered gently against his skin, lips at his nipples and suckling. In his grasp, the director jerked and his own length began to rise in kind. “You know this dance. You know I’ll take care of you.”

“S-stop,” Graves whimpered, then immediately frowned – displeased at the wrecked sound of his own voice. Grindelwald grinned against the hollow of the man’s throat and nibbled kindly at the skin he found there.

And then he leaned back so he could look the man in the eye as he brought one hand into the air between them – the other still planted firmly on the man’s hip – and began to make a scissoring motion with his fore and middle fingers. The effect was instantaneous. Graves used whatever leverage he had, however small, to rise ever so slightly from Grindelwald’s lap as though trying to escape something.

But there was no escaping this. There was no escaping the invisible fingers Grindelwald had conjured into Graves’ anus, spreading him. There was no escaping the way they pressed up, up, further than any human fingers could go or how they gently brushed against that little node of nerves inside of Graves that nearly had him screaming – his spine a sharp line of pleasured agony atop him.

And in those stormy brown eyes Grindelwald could see the man that fought him tooth and nail slipping, slowly replaced in little spurts by a gentle haze of yes and Master, please and more.

When he was able to comfortably fit three invisible fingers up the man’s ass, he pulled away and waited for the man that slumped down to rest atop him to slowly catch his eye; the director returned as the pleasure reduced from a hurricane to a restless lapping of waves – chest heaving.

“Still with me, director?” Grindelwald mocked, one hand lifting to brush back Graves’ sweaty locks as the other cruelly traced the man’s puffy, eager hole. Above him, Graves snarled; teeth pearly white in the low light.

“Release me,” he growled from between his teeth, eyes seething. “You fucking coward and I’ll show you how I’m very much still here.”

Grindelwald grinned at him then and watched the man’s face as he aligned his dick subtly with Graves’ hole and penetrated him in one long thrust that left the man gasping. “But you look so pretty all trussed up like that. I’m afraid I can’t resist.”

Whatever Graves had to say next, he didn’t have a chance to say – not when Grindelwald took that chance to see the expression on the man’s face when he fucked the words from his train of thought. Each pump left the man panting, his body rocking to keep up. And every time it looked like the director had regained enough wit to speak, Grindelwald changed his angle ever so slightly to fuck the words away again.

Fingers traced the skin of Graves’ tailbone, blunt nails tickling gently as Grindelwald grinned mischievously up at the man riding him.

“You’re going to slip up eventually, dear thing,” he said, his teeth a long line of white that split his face in half. “You’ll use your magic – to escape, to fight, maybe to please me and you’ll trigger your final change. And you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

Graves shuddered from his place atop Grindelwald’s lap, his hips thrusting in minute, confused little spasms as his former self went to war with the creature that Grindelwald was shaping. He panted and sweat beaded at his temples as he glared down at his abuser.

“I won’t… make that mistake again,” he gasped, his words interrupted by a particularly harsh thrust up against his prostate, making his breath hitch. Between them, his dick twitched – hard and weeping. Graves bit his lip. His thighs shuddered, and Grindelwald could see how hard he was struggling. How much he yearned to be away from him – from his home turned prison. But the collar anchored the man in place – physically and mentally. Grindelwald traced the fine leather with his fingers, in awe of his own work. The tags glimmered sweetly in the low light; twinkling innocently.

“You will,” Grindelwald said, his confidence making Graves’ ears tuck down and bare his teeth, unaware of his own behavior. “And when you do – oh, how lovely you’ll be. A nice, flowing tail to match your pretty little ears. Complete and perfect, just for me. It’ll be quite the gift, and I’ll reward you so nicely.”

“Not. Happening,” Graves grit out from between his teeth, nostrils flared in barely contained rage even as his other half happily responded to their activity, making his hips meet down against Grindelwald’s upward thrusts – each motion a little more enthusiastic than the last. Graves threw his head back and cursed, feeling his dominant mind slowly drown into the haze of his other self with each strike against his prostate.

His growl turned into a keen, and below him Grindelwald grinned.

“It will,” he said and hooked one long, elegant finger into the metal loop that attached Graves’ tags to his collar, pulling down just hard enough to make Graves’ back arch to meet him until they were nose to nose. “Because of this. There’s no escape, Mr. Graves. Not while you wear this. Not while you can’t perform magic. Not while I can find you anywhere,” another thrust, harder than the last, “any time,” and another, “whenever I please.”

“No,” Graves whispered on a huff of lost air, eyes heavy lidded and slowly clouding over.

“Yes,” Grindelwald whispered back, and then he flipped them – shoving Graves’ back deep into the bed so that he could plow into him harder, thrusting the man physically deeper into the soft silk of the sheets until he had him crying with pleasure, his lip busted from where he had tried to bite them back. Another dozen thrusts was all it took to send his pet tumbling over the edge, his spend hot and sticky between them as Grindelwald stilled his length within that clenching heat and released.

And when he was spent, he lowered the broad length of his body down and smothered Graves until his lips were brushing the man’s ear and said:

“You belong to me. Mine. My Pretty,” his words chasing the man down into the abyss the collar trapped him in as Pretty slowly rose up from the darkness of his mind. “Because no matter what you do, you’ll never get this collar off. Not without –“

And then Grindelwald drew the memory to a shuddering halt, causing the Legilimens on the platforms around him to collapse and scream – grasping their heads from the brutality of his mental backlash. All around them, the memory fell to ashes and was swept away until he was looking straight into Madam Picquery’s eyes across the abyss that separated them. He smiled.

“You seem particularly fond of that memory, Seraphina. Do you enjoy seeing my pet so thoroughly debauched on my dick? I could show you again, if so.”

But Picquery did not rise to the occasion. She merely watched him through lioness eyes as she pondered him from her conjured seat. Her eyes were sharp much like his were, unsettling in their keenness, and he couldn’t help but feel a spike of regret knowing that this was yet another of his kind – brilliant and talented – tricked into hiding in the shadows and using their gifts against their kin. Oh, how majestically her gifts would blaze if she would just let the Muggles lie where they belonged…

In the mud.

Finally, Picquery unwound her legs from where they had been crossed and rose, staring at his bound form from down her nose before dismissing him entirely and turning toward her staff around him. Kneeling, breathing hard – some bleeding from their noses.

“Rest,” she commanded. “Eat, drink. Take two hours to collect yourselves. Then remember the man – one of our own – that is depending on us and return with everything you have. We have one night left before the Ministry comes for him. Let’s make it count.”

She did not spare them another glance as they gratefully, if somewhat ashamed, filed past her. Instead, her gaze returned to him. Fierce. Unforgiving. Unrelenting.

They could have made quite the team, in another world.

Grindelwald smiled.

“You’re running out of time,” he said, eyes twinkling in the darkness of the inactive Pensieve.

“As are you,” she said simply, hands tucked into the small of her back and chin high. Her strength was so tangible, he almost overlooked the dark circles that were slowly growing beneath her eyes or the way her hands would have trembled if she had not tucked them so tightly away. She had left the chamber only a mere handful of times throughout the duration of their interrogation.

And a woman such as Picquery did not have the sort of time to devote so whole heartedly to one employee. In the darkness, Grindelwald’s smile grew. She did not falter.

“He’s important to you,” he surmised.

“He’s an important member of this government. You knew that. There’s a reason why you took him.”

“There are many reasons why I took him,” Grindelwald said. “Powerful enough that I need not hide my own talents. Respected enough not to be questioned. Important enough to work on his own. But you – you can’t afford to halt government for one man. He’s important. A friend? A lover?”

Something pained flashed across Picquery’s face for an instant, and Grindelwald’s smile grew.

“He is important,” she said.

“I could crush him,” Grindelwald said, pressing his advantage. “In a moment, I could ruin forever the man you know. I could release his mind totally, and beneath the floodgates he would snap – lost forever. Or I could return him to you. If you would only –“

“You won’t,” she said blandly, as though suddenly tired, but with no lack of confidence. It made Grindelwald sit up straighter.

“Oh? You sound so sure, Seraphina. Are you willing to gamble with his life?”

“I’m not worried,” she said, eyes on him; distant and old. “After all... He’s precious to you, too.”

It was then that the doors to the execution chamber opened and a dozen Aurors entered. He watched as she turned her back to him after one last, long stare and instead addressed the men and women that filed into a line along the back wall – joining the small team of Aurors that had been guarding Picquery throughout the interrogations.

“Watch him. If he so much as moves, kill him,” and then her eyes fell on a familiar face. “Goldstein, with me.”

Then she was gone and Goldstein with her. And amidst the faces of a dozen Aurors, Grindelwald’s face split into a grin and he laughed – laughed until it followed after her down the hall.

Laughed until it drowned them.