#NEW CHAPTER heyyyyy

[mareenavee]

The World on Our Shoulders | Chapter 25: A Perfect Storm

23rd of Morning Star 4E 202

Teldryn was freezing, which wasn’t any surprise, really. He’d been trudging into the wind over veritable mountains of snow at this point. He was all but blinded by the blizzard around him, and deafened by the thunder. Hail bounced off his helmet and armor, the near-constant hollow thunk starting to irritate him worse than before. Regardless of all his layers, he felt like if he paused for even a second, he’d become a solid block of ice. He was sorely tempted to try that trick with the Flame Cloak again just for the warmth, but thought better of wasting Magicka. He didn’t know what awaited on the other side down by the shore. He could only hope Nyenna was still there, still safe enough. He closed his eyes behind his chitin lenses and tried to recall what he had seen — pristine black boots. Gold details. Familiar, somehow, but without the whole picture, he couldn’t place it. The image had faded from his mind too fast, though what was more concerning was how blurred it had been, as if by tears. He was still in shock, if he was being honest, that the Atronach had even been able to give him this warning.

His stomach grumbled. He’d left the rabbit and snowberries in the cave. All that work only to feed the stray Riekling. Lovely. But he could move faster without having to manage all that. Food would have to wait. He’d gone longer without a meal before, anyway. He paused only long enough to readjust the two travel cloaks and pull the hoods in closer around his face. Nyenna’s was, predictably, much too short, but of a nicer quality. It helped. Thank whatever Gods for her, he thought, because the cold of the blizzard still seeped through. He could handle it, though, with this small gesture. He’d catch up to her if it was the last thing he’d manage before the weather finally did him in. Now that he thought about it… was that even possible? He wasn’t keen on finding out.

Finally, through the thick curtains of snow and hail, Teldryn was able to see the coast. He’d wandered a little further north than he’d intended, but he had his bearings, more or less. The waves crashed angry and grey against the ashen shores, salt mist all but freezing as it settled over the rocks, shells, and stinking piles of seaweed that had been dragged up from the depths among the dreugh. He kept the ice shelf and the looming storm clouds over his shoulder as he headed south. The lightning struck somewhere in the distant ocean. He counted to himself, and three seconds later thunder tore through the air. Too close. If it wasn’t already dangerous out here, the storm would overwhelm if he didn’t hurry.

He tried his best to pick up the pace. His legs ached from trudging through the snow and the more he thought about it, the more angry he got about the whole thing. All of it was on Neloth now, every detail of this little disaster. He couldn’t just ask for help, of course. It had to be manipulation, because ‘no, Neloth, I am not doing your bullshit quest’ didn’t seem to register as an answer in the old wizard’s thick skull.

It was easy to blame Neloth, really. Teldryn had done it more than once in the last handful of days. But the truth was…he’d been gone too long. This, like usual, was really his own damned fault. Nyenna had hired him to watch her back, and what did he do? Wander off like a s’wit into the middle of a Godsdamned storm for a handful of berries. Just great. He would kick himself if he could.

There was some indiscernible sound issuing from just ahead over the howl of the weather. Something like terrified shrieks, which didn’t bode overly well. He rounded the corner of a cliff that overlooked Northshore Landing and kept close to the rocks. His Candlelight spell had been rendered almost useless; the light it threw barely gave him enough light for the next steps. He let it wink out and ran a hand along the outcropping. He sighed and searched the back of his mind for the presence that he could sometimes still feel in moments like this. It was barely there; a tawny feather in a vast darkness. Shadows hide him indeed. He’d have the advantage if he could manage not to fuck this part up, as relatively blind as he was at the moment. He wished he’d bothered learning Nyenna’s Detect Life spell. Or that he hadn’t been quite so lazy about magic in general over the years. He crouched low, hand still grazing the cold shale. -> Read the rest on AO3

[waywardsalt]

ok this month i need to finish at least one of the following:

ganonbeck chapter 2

bellum x linebeck chapter 1 draft

damibeck smut

maybe the other damibeck smut

???? something else i might start idk

[accirax]

DRDT Chapter 2 Recap Analysis

Heyyyyy everybody :D

I'm sure that, by now, everyone has heard the exciting news: DRDT will be back on Friday, September 6, at 7 PM EST! That's so awesome!!! I can't wait to finally see the end of the Chapter, and hopefully for the DRDT community to come back in full force, even if only for a little while. I missed you all :)

So, to get back in the swing of Chapter 2 theorizing (and recap what's just happened for everyone including myself), I've decided to run a bit of analysis on the return announcement itself, specifically the recap that occurs at the end. I believe that anything an author says about their works can hold clues as to how they view their story. And, in this case, what does and doesn't make the recap and how certain events are phrased can give us some last-minute clues as to what we should be keeping our eyes on going into the second half of the Trial.

I'm going to try to keep this as facts-focused and non-partisan as possible, but in a "theory" like this, confirmation bias is basically impossible to fully ignore. It's inherent that I'll be more likely to pick up on "clues" that work with my beliefs than ones that work against it. So, please remember that I am not attacking anyone who believes any of the things that I "disprove" in this analysis, and I'm also not saying that you're already 100% wrong about them at this point in time. I'm literally going to "shoot down," so to speak, some of my own theories, but I'm not taking this analysis as reason enough to abandon them just yet. We can't know if anything is true or false until the Chapter is finished, so it would be silly to call something completely wrong when the Chapter hasn't even restarted yet.

With that out of the way, let's recap that recap, and drain every bit of information out of it that we possibly can!

I think that the most efficient way to see what is and isn't present is to list out the "scenes" that occur throughout Chapter 2, and see what DRDTdev had to say about each of them. With that in mind, our first "event" is...

Eden Makes Breakfast

Notably, all mention of Levi helping Eden make breakfast is omitted from this recap. This includes in the visuals of the clip played.

In some instances, I'm going to write how DRDTdev could have phrased things if he wanted to highlight certain elements in an indented paragraph, just to prove that it was possible to convey the information differently. Like this!

"Chapter 2 starts with Levi helping Eden make breakfast for everyone."

Distributing the Motive

This part seems pretty all-inclusive to what I remember happening in this scene. The only thing I particularly have to note is the finality of "Arturo received J's secret"-- which really makes it sound like that secret was assigned correctly-- but I don't think literally anyone was trying to claim that Arturo was lying about J having that secret.

Investigating the Second Floor

Obviously, DRDTdev didn't go into detail about any of these interactions-- no notes on Whit's theory that the killing game was catered to them, about Levi really wanting to make things up with Ace, or Nico's struggles with socialization. It means that those details are probably less important to the end of the Trial specifically, but I don't think that's much of a surprise.

Caulking the Bathroom

A lot of detail is omitted from what Teruko and MonoTV were actually talking about in the bathroom. Most notably, however, is that the Monocredits are not included in the recap. This may mean that Teruko's second Monocredit will not be redeemed this chapter, but at some later time.

A Chat With Charles

Once again, the use of Monocredits are ignored, as well as the fact that Charles gave Teruko the secret he received in case of emergencies. Therefore, it's possible that the letter (which should contain Eden's secret) won't come up again in the end of the Trial, and that this scene was more relevant to Charles' plot of opening up to Teruko than anything directly related to the secrets themselves.

"Afterwards, Teruko goes to talk with Charles, who hands her his motive secret in case of emergencies. Flustered by Charles' trust in her, Teruko uses her first Monocredit to have MonoTV make Charles go away."

Eden Retrieves Teruko

A couple of things here! Firstly, DRDTdev draws attention to the fact that Teruko was removed from the group for a day. I don't know if this could factor into murder plans at all, given that it's a whole three days before Arei turns up dead, but it could be relevant. Secondly, any mention of Eden's blackmail AND any mention of Eden's philosophy are omitted from the recap. Given that that's both one piece of information that makes Eden seem more guilty AND one piece that makes her seem more innocent, I imagine that was probably just to keep things neutral/brief. Unlike some of the other text boxes that I showed could have been written differently, that descriptor was already pretty long.

Commotion in the Cafeteria

No comment on who was the one tasked to help each of those pairs (Eden, Veronika, Teruko) or Charles and Whit choosing to sit out, but none of those additions seemed incredibly relevant to the overall plot.

David Suggests Secret Sharing

In this case, "secret" is put in quotations, which strongly suggests that having a family history of depression, whether true or not, is not what David's secret actually was. But, the board basically confirmed that already. Far more wildly, no mention is made of Charles learning of Elliot's existence at all. This is particularly crazy to me given that the last video on the DRDT channel prior to this was the Yoidoreshirazu MV. It definitely implies to me that Charles' secret will not be relevant in wrapping up Chapter 2.

Arei's Breakdown

The use of "rebuffs" as opposed to "bullies" or "demeans" is interesting to me, as it's a relatively chill word to describe what Arei did. We also lost Eden slipping up and telling Teruko that the secret she has belonged to someone with he/him pronouns, but that was likely excluded because we've (most likely) already solved that mystery.

Rose's Secret

No detail about Rose's backstory, but we don't have all day. Far more interesting to me is that DRDTdev draws attention to Nico asking Rose to teach them to paint in a sentence that could have easily been cut. My guess is to highlight the importance of this in relation to Ace's "murder."

Nico Threatens Ace

Nothing of note here; this seems pretty standard.

Nico's Secret

The phrasing "David has Nico reveal their secret" is really cool for how non-partisan it is. It doesn't say "David FORCES Nico" or "David MAKES Nico," but it also doesn't just say "Nico reveals their secret," either. It points out how David pushed things in this direction, but did so in a way where it was still technically up to Nico. Anyways, we also lost Hu telling us about the origin of her name. This is a bit strange, given that it's the main scene we have (in Chapter 2 at least) of Hu and David working together and being on good terms before David's reveal. Perhaps this implies that any relevance this scene has on the Trial has already passed.

Teruko Threatens J

Honestly, the weirdest part of this to me is that it was important enough to make the recap at all. But, it did have a CG and everything. Actually, I wonder if this could have been included to help us remember that Teruko is actively carrying a knife on her at all times.

Ace Nearly Dies

DRDTdev directly phrases this as "Nico attempting to murder Ace," which really sounds like a soft confirmation that Nico was the one who tried to kill Ace, and therefore they were not framed for this crime.

"Late at night, Teruko and Eden spot Nico running away from Ace's nearly dead body in the Gym."

We also lose a lot of detail when it comes to Teruko and Eden investigating the initial scene of the crime, Ace chasing down Nico to kill them on the spot, and Levi offering his aid before being rejected and growing angry. It could indicate that the details of what happened after Ace "died" won't be relevant to the end of the Chapter.

Hu Defends Nico

This scene, in which Ace tries to expose what Nico did and Hu argues that Ace must have the wrong idea, is entirely missing from the recap. I bring this up because, very notably, this is the scene where Arei is last seen, not speaking. Arei's weirdly quiet breakfast is not highlighted in the recap at all, which may mean that it won't be relevant to the Trial.

Teruko and Rose Check Out the Gym

We once again call particular attention to the fact that Rose can't do a pullup because the grippy tape went missing from the Gym at some point around the time of the murder, although no focus is put on the fact that the Gym was closed in between when Teruko and Eden were there and when Teruko returned with Rose. This may suggest that the lockdown logic of how the tape went missing may be relevant to the remainder of the chapter.

A Chat With Charles and Whit

Once again, absolutely no mention is made of Ellie or Charles' childhood amnesia, despite that being the main point of this conversation. Weird.

"Teruko stops by the Computer Lab and talks with Charles and Whit about Charles' memories of a forgotten older brother."

Horror Movies in the Gym

Beyond the lack of detail regarding Veronika's philosophy, I'm quite surprised that Teruko's plan to end the killing game wasn't at all mentioned in the recap. I guess that'll be saved for a further chapter!

Motive Reveal Time

I don't think there's anything particularly important going on here, besides possibly drawing attention back to David being the one to point out that Arei was missing. It's possible that could still be relevant if the specifics of the BDA come up in the Trial.

Discovering Arei's Body

A couple of points on word choice in this one-- first of all, the text says "find her body," which, according to what was said on the slide before this one ("points out that Arei is missing"), should imply that they found Arei's body. However, the way that this slide is phrased allows for the very sneaky "Everyone goes to search for [Arei]. Teruko, Eden, and Whit find [J's] body hanging in the playground." Therefore, in my opinion, this part of the recap doesn't disprove swap theory, at least.

Secondly, the word DRDTdev chose was "find," not "discover." And, in this game, the BDA rule is phrased as "The Body Discovery Announcement will play when three or more people who did not witness the murder discover the body." Thus, by not directly saying that Teruko, Eden, or Whit was discovering the body here, this part of the recap also doesn't disprove the idea that Eden or Whit (or Teruko) could have done something to falsify the BDA. In fact, the BDA itself isn't mentioned at all.

"Everyone goes to search for her. Teruko, Eden, and Whit discover her body hanging in the playground, and trigger the Body Discovery Announcement."

Investigation

Absolutely nothing from the investigation makes it into the recap, likely because the investigation is an entire episode long on its own, and DRDTdev was trying to keep it quick. Not to mention, pointing out particular pieces of evidence here would really highlight what's going to be important in the Trial to come, and DRDTdev may be lowkey trying to further nudge people towards rewatching the entire investigation for themselves anyways. I think that the reconstruction of the note is probably the thing that I'm most surprised to see missing from the recap? I'll also point out that the video clips chosen for the "Investigating the Second Floor" section include Teruko and MonoTV looking up at the Gym's ceiling fans, which could be a sneaky way of drawing further attention to that setup.

Assigning Secrets

We have to go a bit later into the recap to hear about the motive secrets, and what we get is, predictably, very vague. Saying, "currently, the state of the motive secrets is like this" puts the full burden of proof onto the students to assign them correctly, with DRDTdev giving no indication here as to which are correct. Even the most highly contested assignment-- that Xander has the "the killing game is all your fault" secret as opposed to Teruko-- is still treated like fact here. Again, not a surprise, but not much to be gained.

Possibility of Suicide

The specifics of the blackened being the "most mastermind-y" person involved in the case are not included in the recap. This could imply that this rule may not be important to the outcome of this Trial.

Eden and Arturo

"Eden had Arturo's secret" also feels like a soft confirmation that that is Arturo's secret, and we won't reveal later down the line that Arturo actually had a different secret. I feel like this segment is also phrased like fact, therefore implying that Eden wasn't lying about this confrontation happening. We also get no indication as to Eden's feelings on Arei's vow, or whether them becoming friends actually happened.

"In the Trial, Eden claimed to have Arturo's secret, and that he attacked her when she revealed it. When Arei came to save her, the two of them forged a friendship."

What Ace Overheard

While not as plainly put as "it is revealed that," the phrasing "Ace reveals that" seems to support that Ace was telling the truth about overhearing this conversation, although the date on which it happened isn't reaffirmed here. Similarly, "David's secret is revealed" strongly implies that David does have the manipulator secret.

"Ace then claimed to overhear Arei and David talking about [David's] secret, and declared that David's secret was being a manipulator."

The David Reveal

(I'm going to write these ones out instead of having a screenshot because I ran out of images :,( And I'm too lazy to compress them... )

"In response, David acts aggressively and admits to being Arei's killer. Everyone nearly votes for David, but Teruko and a few others believe that David is lying. Then, Charles interrupts and reveals that he has some yet-unknown information that changes the Trial..."

To be honest, I didn't realize that "a few others" were siding with Teruko. Like, Charles for sure, and possibly Ace, given he still thinks Nico did it...? That phrase could be a hint that we'll hear more about other students who don't think that David is the blackened quickly after the plot resumes. Maybe my prediction that we're about to head into a scrum debate for 7:30 AM vs 7:30 PM will turn out to be correct...!

And, that's pretty much all I had to say... 30 images later. Look, a lot of it is images, so there wasn't actually that much analysis involved! Besides, now is the third-best time to be hyped and rambling about DRDT Chapter 2-- the top two being while the chapter is airing and just after it's finished, obviously-- so I can say as much as I want! And so can you!

If there are any particular phrasings within the recap that struck you as interesting, feel free to talk about them in the comments or a reblog! I'd love to see what other people think about this, and add my two cents (if desired).

From what it seems, the DRDT community seems to be just as excited for the return of DRDT as I am, which makes me very happy. I hope you enjoyed reading this analysis, and once again, please remember that I'm not trying to shame anyone for believing in anything that may be "disproved" by what DRDTdev said, or to fully convince them out of it before the Chapter begins. If I were DRDTdev, I would be trying to phrase things in the most vague and misleading ways possible to throw off nosy people like myself. It's also definitely possible that I read into things too far in my excitement. That's what this practice round is for, before we dive back in to the real meat of the mystery on September 6th!

Oh my god... we're actually going to dive back in to the real meat of the mystery on September 6th...

See you then!!!

[squishy-lombax]

Secret Trio - Chapter 1 Page 13

Heyyyyy girls~ New Secret Trio page! Woohoo! I got a little creative with some of the paneling. Idk if it works or not but let me know your thoughts. Also, I hope it's clear the shade demon remorphs his arm after getting it cut off.

Still don't know how to color backgrounds, yeee~

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

WIP Wednesday

Heyyyyy greetings, loves, and happy Wednesday! I come to you today, with the actual publishing of a whole ass new chapter of a little ol' WIP you might recognize...it's called At the end of a bar, and it's been almost a month since I updated. Apologies abound for my tardiness, but rest assured I am determined to finish the fifth and final chapter soon so that my muse can turn her attention over to a couple of long fics I have in the works with some lovely people.

Thanks be to @suseagull04 @priincebutt @eusuntgratie @firenati0n @bigassbowlingballhead @itsmaybitheway and @wordsofhoneydew for the tags already today! I can't wait to scream about what y'all are working on!

Have a snippet of chapter four below, as well as the link to the shiny new chapter in its entirety!

“You know,” Alex says through heaving breaths as he reaches beneath Henry’s arms and hauls him back up to stand, their chests pressed together so tightly that the falling water pools there, “Pez said we shouldn’t use up all the hot water.” His grin is mischievous and uninhibited, and the electricity of his laugh zips through the air before the sound even manages to escape from between his lips. Henry steals it before it has the chance, tasting the spark of it on his own tongue as he licks into Alex’s mouth. “It’s a tankless water heater,” he answers moments later before they both dissolve into a fit of laughter.

Tagging my lovelies behind the cut, as well as leaving an open tag for anyone to claim who may wish to!

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @agame-writes @anincompletelist @cactusdragon517 @captainjunglegym @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @duchessdepolignaca03 @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @guillermosfamiliar @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes  @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @onthewaytosomewhere @rockyroadkylers @ships-to-sail @songliili @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @typicalopposite @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew @zwiazdziarka

[3terna15unshin3]

Consumption

Este sees 'Consumption' in person

2259 words

warnings: !! 18+ !! smut, minors dni, public unprotected sex, dom!matty if u squint, filth in general

—

a/n: Heyyyyy nobody requested even anything similar to this but I had a vision and needed to fulfil it ok thank u love u enjoy

(I wrote an entire 15 chapter fic of this universe! Read it here if you want more Matty and Este😌)

—

Luckily, by the time the UK and Ireland leg of their tour came around, Este was able to work remotely and travel along with them. It was cold and gloomy—London pulling through with its regular dreariness—so she was happy to have at least a bit of a change of scenery.

Until now, she was forced to watch from afar, only seeing photos and videos of the North American shows back in autumn. But of course, Matty was completely open with her as the show as a whole came to fruition; its set design and artistic concepts always shared between the couple. So none of it (even the parts that were as jarring as watching footage of her boyfriend chowing down on raw meat) came as a surprise for Este. That was until she got to experience it in front of her own two eyes.

Brighton was the first show. 8th of January. Her feet were perched to the side of the stage, swaying happily to the familiar songs and watching Matty perform them with an inflated ego and sly smirk on his face.

She thought the persona was quite hot. The heat in her cheeks heightened every time he made cocky gestures and pranced around with purposeful pride. Este had already seen plenty of videos of ‘consumption’, and had her own fun with them; teasing Matty about how much the concept exposed him and how crazy it made the crowd go. They were feral for him. So was she, to be fair.

Seeing his bare chest heave up and down—too similarly to how Este easily made it move when they were alone together—made her go insane. Her eyes stung when she refused to blink, busy staring at Matty’s hand trailing over his crotch. Este wasn’t expecting it to have such a strong effect on her, assuming that either the thousands of people also watching him or the fairly profound purpose of the act would water down the sensuality of it. But fuck, it was hot. She could practically hear the sound of his moans in the back of her ear even though he was metres away.

That first night was difficult enough; having to stand and look as if she wasn’t hot and bothered by what went on in front of her eyes. Watching it over and over, night after night, served even harder.

So over half way through the leg, now in Glasgow, Este couldn’t help herself. She’d been particularly touchy during the day but that wasn’t all that unusual, so Matty still wasn’t expecting her to whisper “Come fuck me after consumption,” in his ear before he went on. She meant business. The sentence replayed in the back of his mind as he strummed at his guitar, internally begging the set to move faster so he could climb through the little telly and flip the place upside down to find Este.

When the time finally arrived and he plonked his bum on the sofa, Matty imagined it was her hand on his skin and slipping past the waistband of his pants. He even discretely gave his nipple a quick squeeze and whined at the sensation. It wasn’t very convincing, feeling the roughness of his hand and how it contrasted to how delicate hers were, but fantasizing about Este wasn’t anything new to him—so he had to snap himself out of it before his arousal began to show.

Matty shook his head and chuckled to himself as he did press up after press up. The power those short 5 words uttered by his girlfriend was unfathomable. She knew it would make him less focused and throw him off his game; but that’s why she did it, and he could tell. Este wanted the upper hand. He considered giving in to it—but today he wanted to toy with her. It was only fair if she was clearly trying to toy with him.

So, right as he stood up after crawling off stage, he grabbed George and the first stage manager in sight.

“Loop the Too Shy intro. I need it to play twice,” Matty instructed.

They looked as confused as ever. “What are you on about?” asked the drummer.

Matty glanced past George and caught sight of Este. Leaning against a random doorway and burning her gaze into his. He didn’t waste any time and bee-lined towards her.

“Just do it. And maybe a warning through my ears at 90 seconds out? Please? I owe you one!” He trailed off, eventually turning fully away from them and jogging to Este with desperation. Before he could leave completely, Matty remembered to grab the small pile of clothes that sat ready for him, taking them with.

Este grinned at the conversation she overheard and at the state of Matty, who suddenly yanked her hand to drag them both into the room she stood in front of. It seemed to be a storage room, cramped full of random stage equipment and dimly lit. He slammed the door behind them.

“You found me.” She commented.

Instead of responding, Matty pulled her in by the back of her neck and kissed her with an open mouth. His new outfit for when he had to re-enter the stage was discarded to the floor. She smiled into him, grabbing his hips so they were flush against hers. Her back thumped onto the back of the door, Matty holding her there as their mouths moved in sync with hungriness.

They broke apart to gasp for air. “The fuck are you doing asking me to fuck you right before I go on?” he intensely whispered, dipping his lips down to her neck. Este panted and clenched her thighs together.

“I didn’t ask you to fuck me, I told you to.”

He continued nipping at her skin, then shoved his leg between Este’s—the top of his thigh rubbing her clit through her pants. She moaned, reaching her hand to grip him over his pants.

Matty shook his head and removed her hand from his crotch. “Uh uh uh. You don’t get to touch me,” he scolded, hearing her giggle in response. “Think it’s funny? Making me have to try and not get hard in front of all those people?”

She nodded.

Warmth grew in Este’s stomach within seconds, already wet beneath her knickers. His thigh kept at it as their lips reconnected and their tongues licked into each other’s mouths, before he reached a hand into the front of her pants, using his fingers against her instead. She moaned loudly, making Matty clamp his other hand over her lips. Even the now muffled noise made blood rush to his cock.

“I bet you always get this wet when you watch me up there,” He rubbed circles on her clit at a dizzying speed.

“I do,” Este whispered behind his hand, choking her words out as she tried to hold in her moans. “There’s no time to faff around. Fuck me, baby, please—“

Matty abruptly turned her around with his arm still wrapped around her and hand still down her knickers. His swollen lips pressed to the side of her jaw.

“Beg for it, then.” he breathily called next to her ear.

Mouth slack and gasping now that Matty’s hand was no longer trapping it, Este’s eyes rolled back into her head as he increased the pressure on her clit and teased further south to her entrance. It was slick with wetness and she clenched with need, whining at how empty she was.

“Fuck me now, Matty. Please, I need more. I need you,”

“So fucking needy. Such a slut for me,” He saw her face twist with at his words. “Think you can take it?”

He bent her over and held her wrists behind her back. With his other hand, Matty took down her trousers—pulling her underwear to one side and revealing her dripping core.

“Yes, I can take it,” she panted, “Use me however you want, please,”

Este looked over her shoulder to see him then free his cock; so hard it looked painful. He gave himself a few pumps before sliding in at an annoyingly slow pace. She gasped at how he filled her up.

“Fuck,” groaned Matty, revelling at the tight feeling around him. “Always so tight.”

He pulled out almost all the way just to shove himself back in at the same speed.

“More, baby,” Este begged, beginning to lean back to meet his sluggish thrusts half way, desperate for a quicker release. Matty listened, suddenly pounding into her relentlessly. He still had her wrists in the grip of his left hand while his right steadied her hips. In complete control, like he wanted.

The new speed and the sound of his hips slapping against hers slipped Este deeper into the trance of pleasure she was buried in. She felt him deep inside of her, grazing all of the right places over and over. Mindlessly, Este clenched around him, craving every inch of his cock and wanting to feel even closer to him.

The action drew a low groan from Matty’s throat and encouraged him to mutter, “You’re perfect, E,” with passion. He stared down at the way he disappeared inside of her and snapped his hips even harder.

Their heads were so hazy that they couldn’t tell if there were minutes until Matty had to be back onstage or if they’d been fucking for far too long. And at that point, neither of them really cared. But the thrill of having only a few thin walls and a bit of stuffy space between the two of them and thousands of other people had them both not lasting very long. The door wasn’t even locked.

Matty finally set her arms free, pulling her upright and sitting her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His chest pressed against her back. One hand found itself wrapped around her throat while the other teased her clit again as he railed into her. Este cried out at the sudden pressure on her sensitive core and leaned her head over to bite on his neck, in attempts to silence herself.

“Keep going and you’ll make me come,” she spluttered through the euphoria.

His bottom lip sat pinned behind his teeth, eyes closed in pleasure. “Good girl.” whispered Matty. He was focused—chasing his high as his girl milked him—wanting the same for her.

Este’s legs began to quiver, knees almost buckling beneath her, but the rush of Matty’s fingers pressing firmly on either side of her throat pushed her over the edge. The ecstasy in her lower belly snapped and she leaned further back in his neck, whimpering his name as she came.

He wasn’t far behind her; only seconds going by before he struggled to sustain the pace and force he’d set for himself, feeling the edge of his climax. The slickness that grew within her cunt as she was coming felt unreal around him.

“Where do you want me, love?” Matty grunted, now holding most of Este’s body weight up with an arm across her lower stomach—overstimulated and in so much pleasure it was painful.

“Inside me. Come inside me,” she pleaded messily, peering over her shoulder at him again. A few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead with the layer of sweat that built there. He breathed with an open mouth and stared back at her, completely fucked out and looking like sex itself.

He listened, thrusting one last time and shooting his cum far into her. Este moaned at the warmth she felt when it happened. “Shit,” Matty said with a shriek.

Their hot and heavy breaths fell into sync with one another as they attempted to catch them, Matty still buried inside her. She grabbed his jaw to turn it and sloppily tangle her lips in his.

And before he could even pull out, he heard the stage manager through his inears, followed by Too Shy’s instrumental.

“90 seconds. Matty stand by, please.”

They froze in panic for a second but quickly realised that stopping was the opposite of what needed to be done. So, he pulled out—though he really didn’t want to—Este hissing at the overload of sensation. She bent back over, knowing the sight of his seed dripping out of her would rile Matty back up.

It did. And he didn’t appreciate her teasing him when he had seconds to get himself stage-ready. Getting hard again would be extremely inconvenient, unfortunately, thought Matty, as he tucked himself back into his boxers and began stripping completely to get into his second outfit.

Watching his white cum flow out of Este did hypnotise him. So the only thought that popped into his foggy post-sex brain was to take his tongue and lick it up.

Este gasped and whimpered once more at the feeling, before Matty turned her around and tugged her jaw open. Then, he forcefully spit it—a combination of his saliva and both of their cum that he’d just cleaned up—onto her tongue.

“Swallow it.” he commanded. She followed his word. “We always taste so good together, don’t you think?”

Slightly stunned, Este nodded her head up and down to agree. He pecked her on the lips, all while doing up the final buttons on his shirt and shrugging on the suit jacket. Then, he slipped out of the door.

“Break a leg,” she joked before it shut behind him.

Matty rolled his eyes with a smile and Este heard his hurried footsteps disappear towards the sea of Scottish fans.

[alovesongtheywrote]

Heyyyy I just read Nightmare Academia, and I LOOOOVE IT!!! You're such a talented writer!! 🩷🩷🩷

♥ Summary: I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying the fic :D In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, your author presents you a series of vignettes about you and Reid sharing an office. In other words- you and Reid share an office. Shenanigans ensue.

♥ Warnings: none? that i'm aware of?

♥ A/N: heyyyyy, what's uppppp, it's meeee. sorry this fic took 20 years, lmao. finals hit, im sure you understand. ANYWAY, enjoy the chapter. it's like, 3,000 words, i hope that makes up for it lol

♥ Word Count: 3,336

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

Working out of Spencer’s office was strange.  It wasn’t difficult, as one might expect.  You did not struggle to exist in the confines of that office- if anything, the opposite was true.  Working with Spencer was easy.  Being in his space and working by his side was as easy as breathing.  Despite the pranks, the general bitchiness, and your lingering guilt after the stabbing incident, you and Spencer were a good team.  You could put aside your feelings and get work done when it mattered.  

It was all very fucking weird.

That said, when it didn’t matter, absolutely no constructive work could be completed within your office.  By inviting you into his space, Spencer had unlocked a new universe of pranks for you.  You knew the password to his computer.  You had the key to every cabinet.  Everything you could ever dream of stealing was within reach.

You behaved accordingly.

-

Where most normal laptop-havers set their desktop images to pictures of family, friends, and/or big-tittied anime girls, Spencer left his desktop image on the factory setting.  It was the same default shit that came with any piece of new tech- but this hunk of metal and wire wasn’t new.   He’d had it for years and it was still the same image.  Boring.  Blank.  Impersonal and unrevealing.  Honestly, you weren’t sure if Spencer knew he could change the image, but that didn’t really matter.  Whether or not he knew, you would take the liberty of changing it for him.

You had to move quickly and strike carefully.  Despite being a technophobe, Reid wasn’t the type to leave his shit lying around.  You had to wait patiently for an opportunity, and when one arose, you had to make the most of it.  Spencer Reid would not have a sweet image of capybaras in an onsen.  He would not get a desktop image of sweet sleeping dogs.  That motherfucker would not be on the receiving end of anything wholesome or sweet.

You picked an image in advance.  You waited patiently- and when the window of opportunity finally swung open late one Tuesday afternoon?

You almost missed it.  It wasn’t your fault.  When Reid finally got up and left the room, you were a touch busy stealing one of the books off the shelf behind him.  By the time you noticed he was gone, you’d already placed some horny chunks of text bound by a tasteful cover in its place.

You could hear his footsteps down the hall.  You had to move quickly.

Every inch of your body seemed to crackle with a sort of electricity.  Your heart pounded in your chest, urged by the knowledge that you could be caught any second.  Your fingers raced over the keyboard as you found your chosen image.

When Reid returned to the room, you were back at the bookshelf, scanning the titles and pretending you hadn’t done anything wrong.  It was kind of hard to do when you were staring your smutty novels in the face, but still, you managed.

Your teeth grazed your lip as Spencer stepped into the room.  You could hear him place something on his desk, but you refused to look at him.  His eyes burned holes in the side of your head, you could feel it-

“Here,” he reached out to you, paper cup in hand, “I got you a coffee.”

“What?  How?  Why?” You stuttered out, completely failing to hide your shock.

Spencer raised an eyebrow, “Coffee.  With money.  Because it’s late and you’ve been working all day.  You know, the traditional thing to say in this situation is thank you.”

“I- Thank you,” you accepted the coffee, wrapping your hands around it tightly as if you could squeeze out your shame.

He smiled, smug and smarmy.  Your shame immediately dissipated.  This fucker deserved the cursed bullshit you’d set on his screen.

“You’re welcome, (L/N).”

He turned away from you, switching on his laptop and entering his password.  You watched him, silently sipping on your coffee.  It was perfect.  He’d memorized your coffee order.  Of fucking course he had.  That didn’t mean anything, right?  Spencer could memorize anything, it was all a part of the eidetic memory package.  He probably memorized every coffee order of every person he’d ever stood behind in every coffee shop he’d ever been to.  The fact that he knew your order meant-

“GOD-” Spencer pushed back from the desk, almost pushing his office chair right into your leg.  You looked up, a grin crossing your lips as you saw what had caused his outburst.

A hydra-like creature with a long fleshy body, several long slender necks, and multiple Furby-style faces stared out at you from the glowing screen of Spencer’s computer. 

It was the worst thing you could find, a terrible monster from the very depths of the internet- and it had the intended effect!  Spencer glared at his screen with horror and confusion, his face contorted by whatever rush of emotion he felt upon seeing the cursed thing in front of him.  A sense of euphoric joy spread through your body, burning away all the shame and confusion you felt.  

“You really can’t act like an adult for two seconds, can you?”

“Apparently not.  Thank you for the coffee?”

-

Whenever Spencer got on your nerves, you reorganized his files.  You hid folder upon folder of paperwork in the wrong place.  You switched files with other files on purpose.  You didn’t re-label anything- you weren’t a monster- but you did create such a mess that Spencer had to stay late for a few nights.  He didn’t mind, really.  In messing up his files, you had made a little mystery for him to solve.  He liked little mysteries.

Besides, on the nights he had to stay late, you stayed with him.  

On the floor.

That wasn’t too uncommon, honestly.  Reid’s office didn’t come with two desks- therefore, when one of you needed space, the other usually offered to take the floor as their dominion.  Re-arranging files took lots and lots of space, hence, you often found yourself on the ground.

One such late night, you sprawled yourself across the floor and angled your head to get a better view of Reid’s sorting.  His eyes darted across the page at a speed that some would call inhuman.  (You wouldn’t call it inhuman.  You would just call him a speedy boy.)  As he flipped through the papers before him, those eyes of his turned to you.

“Hi!” you greeted, “How goes the search?”

“You know you don’t have to stay late, right?”

“I know!  But I like watching you work.  Besides, the floor is comfortable.”

“I doubt that,” Spencer said, turning back to his sorting, “If you ask me, you’re here because you feel guilty for making me stay late.  I told you it’s fine, I-”

“Yeah, you like a paper trail, I know.  But I promise, Reid, I do not feel guilty.”

“Then maybe you just enjoy my presence?”  He looked back up at you, a shit-eating smirk painted on his face.  You wanted to smack it off of him.  Or maybe kiss it off of him?  However, if you were to kiss it off of him, you would definitely do so with unnecessary aggression.  Perhaps violence.

You let out an unconvincing laugh, “That’s ridiculous.  Be less ridiculous, Reid.”

“I don’t think I’m being ridiculous.  I think you’re in denial, (L/N).”

“Pft, denial.  You’re silly.  You’re a silly little guy,” you stood up, pulling yourself up and brushing yourself off.  You didn’t notice the way Spencer’s eyes followed your every movement, didn’t catch his gaze lingering on the small patch of skin that revealed itself as your shirt rode up.  

He almost snapped his neck when you turned back towards the desk.  He couldn’t let you catch him staring the way he was.

“My dear, dear Spencer Reid, I do not stay with you because I feel bad for making you work late,” you placed your hands on the desk, “Nor do I stay because I enjoy your presence.”

You pulled yourself up onto the desk, perching atop it.  This time, you noticed where Spencer’s gaze went and how it lingered on your thighs.  You had never felt more powerful in your life.  With a smirk, you reached out and placed two fingers beneath his chin, forcing him to look at you.  He took a deep, nervous breath, and you could feel him breathe beneath your fingers.  

“So why-” he choked, “Why do you stay here?  Just to try and flirt with me?”

“No,” you said, objectively flirting with him, “My darling doctor, I stay here because the floor is really fucking comfortable.  And I have work to do.”

His brows drew together as the cutest little pout crossed his face, “I don’t believe you.  There’s no way it’s that simple, I am sure you have an ulterior motive.”

You did.  You had several.  You felt bad for making Spencer work late, and you enjoyed his presence, and above all else, you wanted to make sure he got home safe and un-stabbed.  You weren’t gonna let Spencer know about that, though.

“Aw, pretty boy.  If I have any ulterior motive, it’s that I get to watch you suffer,” you lied.

With a huff, Spencer pulled his face from your grip and returned his focus to the mess you had made for him.  You smiled, but the grin on your face was nothing more than plastic, porcelain, fake material posing as real joy.  

“I still don’t believe you.”

Fucker.

“If you want to live in a world of delusion, that’s your decision.  All I can do is sit here and watch.”

He smirked, “Wow, (L/N).  I never pegged you as a voyeur.”

You responded to his quip like any reasonable mature adult would- you made a little sound and swatted some of the papers off of his desk.  Spencer just smiled and let his eyes move to a new paragraph.

You were going to kill that man.  Not that night, nor the nights that followed, but you were sure.  One of those mother fuckin nights, Reid would meet his end by your hand.  Or maybe by your thighs.

-

Spencer Reid might’ve been a renowned doctor with multiple PhDs, but he still wasn’t smart enough to hide his property from your thieving gremlin hands.  Before you had moved into his cozy little office, your acts of petty theft were limited to small things.  Mugs, for example.  Or books.  Now, though, you had access to all his worldly possessions- or at least all the worldly possessions that he kept in his office.

You’d taken his keys a few times.  The first time you’d done that, he practically kicked down the office door in a panic.  He’d searched the office desperately, throwing papers around and checking every drawer, only stopping when he saw your smiling face.  

The most recent time you took his keys, he’d just sighed and stared at you expectantly, his hand open and waiting.  You were super tempted to lick him, but you held back.  You just gave him back his keys.  

Mugs, books, and keys weren’t the end of it, though.  You stole chess pieces, office supplies, a desk lamp, and at one point, you nabbed one of Spencer’s fucking degrees.  (It was just hanging on the wall, taunting you.  You had to take it.)

Your favourite incident of theft, though, was a scarf.  During the colder months, Spencer usually wore a purple scarf, but this one was different.  He didn’t wear it as frequently- it was long, generally tan with stripes of orange, purple, and green.  The wool that made it up was unbelievably soft beneath your fingers.  You never wanted to let that scarf go.  So you didn’t.

You took it.  

And you kept it.  

You were cold, your neck was scarfless, and he left a lovely soft scarf right in front of you for you to grab.  So you grabbed it.  And you wore it.  And you looked hot.  And you were hot- literally.  

It was a good thing that you’d nabbed the scarf when you did.  The very next day, the heating system that kept the campus warm during the colder months mysteriously broke down.  You came into work expecting the usual warmth only to find that everything was fucking freezing.  You were fortunate.  You still had the scarf in your bag.

Without another thought, you wrapped it around your neck and curled up into a tiny ball behind the desk.  

Spencer was not so fortunate.  You see, dear reader, our sweet former FBI agent hadn’t realized his scarf had been kidnapped.  Upon returning home the night before, he noted the lack of scarf and assumed that he’d left it in his office.  That’s right.  The man with the eidetic memory just assumed he’d forgotten something- not just something.  The nerdy scarf that he’d spent months working on.

Please forgive him, he’s secretly like, half a himbo.  A half himbo in disguise.  A halfbo incognito.  Anyway.

His assumption left him scarfless, and that morning, Spencer burst into the office, desperate and searching once more.  And then, he saw you wearing his scarf.  The Doctor Who scarf.  The scarf he’d knit himself, the scarf that had spent hours and hours in his hands, that scarf wrapped around your neck.  He froze.  The panic he had felt in the moments before faded away to nothing.  

No.  Not nothing.  It just faded to a different kind of panic.  An, “Oh my god, my cute co-worker is wearing a scarf I made,” type of panic.  A, “Holy shit, my mortal enemy is wearing something rope-like that I made around their neck what kind of day IS THIS,” type of panic.  

An, “Oh god, oh man, my cute co-worker is wearing something I made around their neck to keep warm in the cold,” kind of panic.

Put another way, Spencer went from one kind of panic to several kinds of panic, all before you looked up from your paperwork to catch his wide-eyed gaze.

“Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you said, reaching up to tuck the scarf tighter around your neck, as if you could hide it with such a simple gesture, “How are you?”

“I-” he stood there for a few moments, staring at you and willing the blush on his cheeks to stop burning.  It didn’t.  It burned harder.  Finally, Spencer choked out something, “Is that my scarf?”

“Perhaps,” you drew out the word, curling further into the chair and away from Spencer, “Why?”

“Well, first and foremost, the temperature is thirteen degrees lower than normal-”

“Did you check the thermostat?”  Your words were quiet, mumbled underneath your breath as an expression of genuine confusion rather than a petty, bitchy quip.

“Secondly, my scarf- my scarf that looks suspiciously similar to the one you’re wearing now- is missing.  At first I thought I misplaced it, but then… well,” he gestured vaguely to you, to the fabric draped around your throat, “I managed to put the pieces together.”

You pulled back further.  Spencer just rolled his eyes and stepped into the office.  He slapped his hands down on the desk, letting a loud bang echo through the room.  He smirked at the tiny squeak that escaped you.  Fucker.

“Well?” you asked, voice quiet and hands tight around the scarf, “Care to share, profiler boy?”

He scoffed, though the smile on his lips was genuine, “It wasn’t that difficult.  I came to work missing my scarf and the first thing I saw was my scarf wrapped around your neck.”

“Ah.  The case solved itself,” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek.  Another shiver ran through you, “I suppose you’ll want this back?”

Before you could move to remove the scarf, Spencer held up a hand to stop you, “Keep it.  At least, for now.  It’s cold, and I’ve got a sweater around here somewhere, and you-”

“Are a sweaterless bitch, yes, that’s an accurate take.”

Spencer choked and spluttered, his pink-toned cheeks burning an even darker red, “I- I wouldn’t put it like that-”

“That’s cool,” you shrugged, unfurling your body from the confines of the office chair, “I put it like that.  I am a bitch sans-sweater.  Sweaterless bitch.”

He put a hand up to his face, covering his eyes as he whispered a tiny little curse word.  You just smirked, pulling the scarf tighter around your neck as you stretched your legs out beneath the desk.

Spencer was pretty sure he was going to combust at this point.  You weren’t aware of this- but even so, you still managed to make his day harder.

“So, where did you get this?  It’s soft as fuck, I want, like, fifteen of them.”

Somehow, Spencer managed to avoid choking again, “I, uh, I made that.”

The smile that crossed your lips was blinding, “No shit?  Fuck.  You’re more talented than I thought, Dr. Reid.”

“Thank you?” He paused, awkwardly shuffling into the room and setting up for the day, “So, do you watch Doctor Who?”

“Oh shit,” you looked down at the scarf as it cascaded down your body, “Is this a Doctor Who thing?”

“It’s a replica of the scarf worn by Tom Baker who portrayed the fourth doctor from 1974 to 1981.  The original scarf was actually twenty feet long- the woman who made it wasn’t told how long the scarf needed to be, so she used all the yarn she was given.  It was only shortened slightly for the show’s production, but overall, the end result was very well loved by- oh,” he cut himself off, “Sorry.  I’ll-”

“Wait, why did you stop?”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, “Because I’m rambling?  And I’m sure you have work to do?  And you don’t watch the show, so-”

“Work?  Work is boring.  Give me the scarf lore.”

“The scarf lore for a show you don’t even watch?”

“Yes!  Look, I’ve always taken a more Rocky Horror route when it comes to sci-fi, but I might have to get into Doctor Who because of this.”

“You should!” Spencer lit up, practically glowing with excitement as he took a seat on the desk, “Especially the newer stuff, I think you’d really like what Russell T Davies has to offer as a showrunner.”

“Do you?” you leaned forward, trying not to grin, trying not to show that you were just as excited as he was.  You failed, “Tell me more, then.”

He did.  The two of you whiled away that morning, ignoring the cold in exchange for an impromptu lecture about British television.

-

A few hallways away, Professor Belker (the head of the criminology department) sat at her desk.  Before her, in two chairs, sat professors Peters and Evans.

“So…” Evans began, rubbing his arms as a weak defence against the cold.

“So,” Belker agreed.  None of them needed to state what they were agreeing upon.  Peters stated it anyway.

“Spencer and (Y/N) are fucking, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“It’s practically a guarantee at this point.  You don’t share an office with your mortal enemy unless you and that enemy are having… relations.”

“Wow, ‘mortal enemy.’  That’s intense, Belker,” Evans’ eyes got wide.

“It is.  I’m quoting them directly,” Belker replied, her body weighed down in a way that told the other profs that she had heard that quote a million times.

“Well, it was a good move to shut the heat off.  I saw (Y/N) with Spencer’s scarf, so…” Peters gave a large and unsubtle wink.

“I didn’t shut the heat off.  I thought about it, but-”

“It couldn’t have been you, Belk,” Evans interrupted, “I saw the preliminary report.  The power shut off in the middle of the night.”

“Huh.  That’s odd.”

“Odd indeed.”

A few more hallways away, a book fell off one of the many shelves in your office.  Your office.  The haunted office.  The ghost was getting her way, and lord help anyone who tried to stop her.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @currentfications, @ilse235, @emagen, @foolishwaitersblog if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D

[swiftsaltsweet]

Two Knives Interlude 1: Rangi- Damn

Characters: Rangi and Kyoshi (RoK characters tbh)

Pairing: Rangshi

Rating: M

Summary:

Things have been stressful for Kyoshi. First, she sang a poem and now the whole kitchen staff thinks it’s about Rangi, and is sure that there will be gossip. Then, Yun asks her to join him for the Fifth Nation treaty signing. Now Rangi’s acting strange. It’s becoming a bit much for Kyoshi’s small corner of the world.

(Canon Divergent AU- Kelsang wasn’t the one who heard the poem?….aka What if it took longer for them to realize Kyoshi was the Avatar?)

Other Sites: AO3 

A/N: (Future me edit: Phew! Glad you guys seemed to like the little twist at the end, was a little nervous ngl TT0TT Also YAY! I CAN FINALLY START SHARING THE RANGI CHAPTERS! *sobs* so excited and haha oh man now I’m nervous akfjskfdaj)

(back to past me:) Heyyyyyy it’s POV switch time, just like The Hunt For Kyoshi’s: The Hunter and The Hunted chapters :’D

I only had this POV flip planned so………u_u but hey! It’s like 3 chapters worth in one chapter so :’D Wait…3 chapters….. *looks at the length of this chapter vs the others* Oh someone save meeeeeee TT0TT Haha this is gonna be a long chapter-Oh wait I’m getting a call. Ahuh. Hmm. Yup… 27 pages????......AND YOU AREN’T DONE……. THREE CHAPTERS AND NOT ONE?! Ok We’re splitting this into three chapters sorry. :’D

I underestimated how much Rangi yaps. u_u Pining more than a damn pine tree.

Me from the future (again): *stumbles in* Heyyyyy-o. Oh boi. Um….yes. So….THIS chapter was supposed to be chapter 4, but then I changed it. :’D So like….just remember how these were written/structured: Kyoshi’s first 3 chapters, and then Rangi’s first three chapters, then chapters 4-6, then Rangi’s 4th chapter (that 4th chapter wasn’t originally going to exist too jaklfjds. Man this fic has been shuffled about more than a deck of cards kjfdslafjs

____

Rangi was an idiot. She couldn’t believe that she walked all the way down to the kitchen, and had forgotten to tell Kyoshi the one important news she wanted to relay to her! She cursed that Aoma girl and her cronies for bullying Kyoshi, because they’d distracted her as well. Instead of telling Kyoshi the good news of Master Kelsang returning from a relief mission early, she was trying to give the giant girl tips on how to defend herself.

All those tips falling on deaf ears, as usual. 

She slowly and silently made her way back down to the ruckus kitchen. She heard them from the hallway, something about singing a dirty song or something about unrequited love. She really hoped Kyoshi wasn’t still wasting her time down there. 

“Kyoshi next!” someone said, and the sound of Kyoshi’s name made Rangi stop on the stairs. “She’s never here, so let’s make the most of it!”

Rangi stood in the middle of the staircase, just out of sight from the kitchen. Unsure of what to do. On one hand, she was annoyed that her hunch was right, and Kyoshi was still down there. But on the other hand, she wondered if Kyoshi was going to join in. If she was going to sing. What her singing voice sounded like. What she was going to sing about. 

She stood there, heart thrumming in her chest to the beat of the kitchen appliances.

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul / they draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi’s eyes widened as she heard Kyoshi’s singing voice for the first time. It was such a lovely alto. Her voice was smooth, strong and rich. 

The kitchen howled. Someone clucked in disapproval. “Keep going, you naughty girl!” a voice shouted.

Oh, right, she supposed she should be listening to the lyrics. She shook her head, as much as she’d love to listen to Kyoshi’s voice. The song itself might give her an indication on if Kyoshi liked someone.

Let’s see, something about bronze and fire? Rangi’s heart leapt at the thought of the second description, but tapered it down. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. 

“I’ve got hair like the starless night / it sticks to my lips when I smile / I’ll wind it with yours and we’ll drift off course / in a ship touching hearts all the while.”

Kyoshi drummed on, more percussion started filling the air. And Rangi’s heart started to pound harder. Starless night. Black. A hand flew to her chest. Ok, now she couldn’t stop from getting ahead of herself. There were only a handful of people on the estate that had black hair, and she was one of them. 

“For the way I walk is a lantern lit / that leads you into the night / I’ll hold you close and love you the most / until our end is in sight.”

Rangi could feel the blood pounding in her ears, she could feel the blush covering her body. She knew she was beat red. Black hair, fire, light. Entangled hair. Wanting to hold and love them. Rangi leaned against the wall for support, and prayed. Prayed to every spirit imaginable. Prayed to every Avatar. Prayed that the person Kyoshi was talking about was her. Was Rangi. 

“It’s Rangi!” someone shouted. Rangi nearly leapt out of her skin. She stumbled back a few steps, fearing someone saw her. 

I thought I was out of sight!

“It is Rangi!”someone else cooed, the sound of kissing noises were heard.

“W-where?” Kyoshi asked, alarmed.

“Not in here, idiot!” a male voice said. “In your song! Just admit it, you just sang about Rangi.”

Rangi feared she was going to go into cardiac arrest. So she wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t the only one who saw the resemblance between her and Kyoshi’s song. Now, would Kyoshi admit it? Should she admit it? What should Rangi do if she did?

A million questions spiraled in her mind. 

What she wanted to do right then and there was run down there and…. Take Kyoshi right where she stood? Take her hand and run off with her? Both? 

Rangi drew a breath as quietly as she could. At some point she’d forgotten how to breathe. No, no, she couldn’t act brashly. Kyoshi had to confirm. And….there were other obstacles Rangi may have to overcome if Kyoshi did confirm. 

Rangi, and the rest of the staff waited for Kyoshi’s answer.

“I-I, uh, I,” Kyoshi started. 

Did Kyoshi not mean to sing about Rangi? Did the kitchen staff guess wrong? Did Kyoshi think no one would be able to guess it was about Rangi? 

The wait was killing her.

“I, uh, I have to go get ready for my gifting duties,” Kyoshi said hurriedly, and the sound of movement could be heard.

Rangi jumped and sprinted up the stairs as fast as she could. She quickly ascended the stairs, scratching and clawing on all fours, unable to keep her balance. Surely she was not as silent as she’d wanted to be. As soon as she got to the top she dove through the open window on the other side of the hall from the stairs without thinking. 

She landed in the bushes, and sat there, under the windowsill out of view. Her hand over her mouth to stifle any noises. She heard Kyoshi finish ascending the staircase, and then run in the direction of her room.

Rangi sat there for a moment, trying to catch her breath, and to cool her features off. She didn’t need to be walking around with her face flushed the same color as her red armor.

She placed her forehead on her knees and breathed. She likes me? Does this mean she likes me? She thought to herself, unable to stop the hope rising in her chest. 

For the past two years she’d resigned herself into thinking Kyoshi wouldn’t like her back. That her crush would go unanswered. So this hope was dangerous, if she completely gave in then…. What if Kyoshi still didn't like her? What would she do then?

Rangi took a few more calming breaths, and then slapped her own cheeks. She needed to calm down. She had duties to attend to!

…but first, she should probably go wash her face in her room. The water might help cool it off.

She scrunched up her face into the signature Sei’naka- or maybe it was just the Fire Nation?- stoic look. No one would be able to tell what she was thinking if she kept it like this. 

She made sure now one was looking before she escaped out of the bushes, and ran to her own room.

________________

Rangi ran the cool towel over her face, it warmed almost instantly at the contact of her skin. She repeated the process about a dozen or so times until her reddened face had finally calmed down. 

She grabbed a nearby dry towel and dried her face off. When she finally pulled it away, she began inspecting her appearance in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, so she fixed it. Trying not to think of the lyrics.

She inspected her skin, it was back to the normal pale it usually was, only a slight red hue scattered across it. Her fingers brushed at her neck, then her jaw, then her cheeks and then they froze. Her gaze lingered on her eyes. Her bronze colored eyes. 

“I’ve got two knives that are cast in bronze / they pierce all the way to the soul”

Rangi gasped, and pressed the towel into her face again. As if the pressure could stop the lyrics from forming in her mind. 

Kyoshi had been singing about her eyes. No! No, she needed to think rationally. Kyoshi might’ve been singing about her eyes. Might!

 “They draw you in with the promise of sin / like the moth to the flame to the coal.”

Rangi let out a muffled scream into the towel, her flush coming back red hot. Did Kyoshi really say her gaze was sinful? 

Have I been too obvious? Please tell me I haven’t been too obvious!

She thought about every longing look she thought she snuck and it caused her to do a little dance of embarrassment. Which led to her tripping over her own feet, and falling backwards onto the floor. 

Rangi’s face was still in the towel as she screamed and cringed into it with each memory that passed in her mind; kicking her legs on the floor all the while. It was a pathetic sight. If anyone were to walk in, that might be the final blow to her ego. She may never recover. Thankfully, there was nary a person in the estate that would just barge into Rangi’s room unannounced.

Rangi heard her door slide open with a click.

She slowly removed the towel to see a pair of familiar boots.

She looked up at her mother with absolute dismay. If anyone could or would see Rangi at her lowest and most vulnerable, her mother would always be there with a front row seat. 

Hei-Ran gazed down at her daughter with a deep frown. “What on earth are you doing?”

Breaking down. She thought. Rangi did her best to screw her face back into a stoic expression, the flush be damned. She stood up straight, inhaled, ready to give the excuse of her life. 

She exhaled…..and stared at her mother.

She had nothing. No excuse existed in this world that could’ve explained such disappointing behavior. It’d be better if she told her mother the truth, but she’d never do that. She feared what her mother might say or do if she mentioned her crush on Kyoshi.

Instead, she kept the staring contest up with her mother, until Hei-Ran finally broke it by pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, nevermind. I don’t think I want to know,” Hei-Ran conceded. Rangi was going to leave the biggest and bestest offering for the spirits when she had time. 

Rangi cleared her throat. “What brings you to my room, mother? Shouldn’t you be with Yun?”

Hei-Ran sighed, “Yes, but we are taking a break. However, it appears he wants his break extended. It seems he galavanted off somewhere.”

Rangi nodded. That sounded like her Avatar.

“And I was wondering if his bodyguard would know where he was,” Hei-Ran glared at her daughter.

Rangi stiffened. She’d been neglecting her duties for the day. To be fair, she didn’t necessarily have to bodyguard Yun when he was in the presence of his Sifus, but still. She was slacking.

“I’ll go and fetch him,” Rangi said with a bow.

“Good,” Hei-Ran replied, turning on her heel to leave. 

As she exited the door, a group of servants passed her room in the hall. “Did you see the Avatar?”

“Yeah I saw him on his way to the gifting room, you know where Kyoshi is!”

“How scandalous-Hey!”

Rangi practically barreled into her mother and the other maids as she passed, face pale in distress.

_____________

No! No no no no! Not the gifting room! Not those two alone!

Rangi’s mind was now screaming as she sprinted through the estate, she didn’t care if she looked like a spirit out of hell. She had to get to the gifting room, stat!

She was having a possibly amazing day, she didn’t need it to be ruined by the memories from around eight months ago. When she last left Yun and Kyoshi in a room together, alone. How they looked at each other. How Kyoshi sprinkled Fire Lilies over Yun’s face. How they….kissed. Or, almost kissed? Rangi didn’t know, she didn’t stick around to watch.

Rangi rounded the corner, she was running at the door with a full sprint. Body ready to catch them in the act this time, mind not as prepared.

She reached the door, stopped just in time, and slid the door open with a smooth click. 

She gazed at the two in front of her. Kyoshi and Yun were a respectable distance apart. Nothing nefarious happened this time. She sighed inwardly, and then remembered to keep her face in its stoic placement. She didn’t trust her real emotions at the moment. 

"Avatar." She bowed deeply and solemnly to Yun. Then she turned to Kyoshi, Kyoshi appeared more sullen than usual. “And you! You’ve barely made any prog-”

Rangi cut herself off and tore her eyes away from Kyoshi, looking around the room. Her eyes widened a bit. “Oh….it’s…. actually almost done.” She wasn’t expecting that….

Almost all the presents were in neat little piles, all that needed to be done was transfer them.

“I got here early….” she heard Kyoshi muttered. She wouldn’t look at Rangi at all. 

Rangi could feel her pulse race. Is it because of the song she sang? Is it true? Or is she just self-conscious because the kitchen staff had teased her? Questions began to fill Rangi’s mind once again.

“Yeah Rangi,” Yun laughed. “This is Kyoshi we’re talking about, how dare you question her skill of working fast and efficiently?”

Rangi turned on her heel to face the Avatar, glaring at him. He was throwing her under the bus in front of Kyoshi! Again! “D-don’t put words in my mouth! I simply thought due to the volume that came in, and the fact you are skipping training to be a distraction, she may not have gotten as far as she did.”

“Well, I left the kitchen as soon as possible and got to work, just like you wanted,” Kyoshi mumbled. 

Rangi looked back, and Kyoshi had a slight glower on her face. She could feel her palms getting sweaty. Had Rangi upset her? Had she been upset before Rangi arrived? More millions of questions flew through her mind. Too many, she didn’t know which ones to ask first.

Kyoshi looked back at them, eyes widened a little, and then scratched her nose in embarrassment. “Did I say something wrong?”

Rangi stared at Kyoshi, trying to read her but found it too difficult. She looked down at her feet in defeat.  “No… it’s just….” Do you like me? Do you hate me? Do I upset you? So many questions.

“I think Kyoshi’s just a little nervous,” Yun announced.

Was it because of the song? How did he know about it? Did gossip already spread? Wait, if he knows about it then-

“I just asked her to join the Fifth Nation signing and she agreed to go,” he continued calmly.

Rangi’s train of thought came to a crashing halt when she heard him finish his sentence. Kyoshi was…..coming with them? To the daofei meeting. Sweet, innocent, never seen combat before, Kyoshi. She was going to go to a possible battleground. A war. A maid who has never held a weapon in her life, and might have to fight to the death. Her Kyoshi.

Rangi turned on Yun, glaring at him with the heat of a thousand suns. “Wh-what?! What do you mean she’s going?!”

“I was going to tell you,” Yun smiled, putting his hands up in surrender. 

Rangi spluttered and looked between Yun and Kyoshi. Why wasn’t Kyoshi saying anything? Did he pressure her into it? Was she stupid?! Did she not realize how dangerous this was? 

“Have you lost your mind? The both of you? She’s not going!” Rangi couldn’t believe she had to say those words aloud.

“Are you going against your Avatar’s wishes?” Yun grinned at her, his tone was joking. He didn’t mean it. But it hit Rangi like she’d been run over by a komodo rhino. Because that’s exactly what she was doing. She was disobeying the Avatar, to keep the girl she was in love with from harm. “Calm down, it’ll be good to have her there.”

“Good for who?” Rangi groused. He was being selfish again, thinking only of himself and not Kyoshi’s well being. No she couldn’t assume that! He was the Avatar. The Avatar was always well meaning. Maybe he just….didn’t realize the risk? Yes, that’s what it was. She just needed to talk some sense into him!

She pressed a fist to her forehead and sighed. Then she glared at Yun and grabbed his sleeve. “We’re talking about this later. Right now, I’m taking you back to your training!”

She started to pull her charge towards the door.

“Gah! Rangi! Wait!” Yun bemoaned. 

Rangi practically threw the Avatar through the doorway in front of her, and then stopped with her hand on the doorframe. She looked back at Kyoshi. Kyoshi sat there with the same calm and beautiful, silent strength she knew the girl possessed. She didn’t want to see it destroyed by some daofei. She wanted her protected. She hated the idea of some dumb bullies harming the girl, but if that pirate laid a hand on her-!

Rangi gripped the doorframe slightly. She looked around the room, trying to find something for Kyoshi to do. “And you-! Clean-no. Just. Gah. Do whatever you were doing!”

Apparently she couldn’t find anything. So she just slammed the door behind her.

____________

Rangi was greeted by Kyoshi with a scream to the face. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyoshi gasped, looking sincerely apologetic. “You surprised me!”

Rangi began walking, indicating for Kyoshi to follow her. She would escort her to the next destination.

Rangi didn’t mind Kyoshi screaming like that, partially because it wasn’t the first time this had happened. In all honesty, Rangi brought it on herself, sometimes she was too stealthy……or Kyoshi was too absentminded. Another reason why she shouldn’t come.

Rangi seethed inside her head. Yun wasn’t listening to reason. He had it in his head that Kyoshi needed to come along. To remind him of the little people he was doing it all for. 

What a load of bull cow crap! He should be able to see that with the servants that work here every day! Or the villagers he sees when he sneaks a peak over the wall! He didn’t need to drag Kyoshi into it!

Kyoshi had already suffered enough growing up. At least, from what Aunti Mui had let slip to her about Kyoshi’s life before the mansion. Kyoshi didn’t need to be put into peril again, and she most certainly didn’t need to suffer an agonizing death at the hands of some daofei!

She just wanted Kyoshi to live a long and healthy life. But she couldn’t do that if she was dead!

Rangi looked up and realized they were somewhere in the garden. She didn’t notice how she got there, when they got there, nor cared. 

An idea passed through her head. If she couldn’t convince Yun, maybe she could convince Kyoshi.

“Kyoshi,” Rangi started, breaking the silence. She saw Kyoshi flinch out of the corner of her eye.

“Y-yes?” 

“You aren’t going,” Rangi said. Rangi tried to say it with a finality. Try to push Kyoshi into the same mindset as her. Whatever it would take to keep her safe.

Kyoshi sighed. “I don’t think I have a choice, Rangi. It’s a special request from the Avatar.”

Rangi stopped walking and turned to glare at Kyoshi. “Of course you have a choice! You just have to tell him you don’t want to! Just tell him ‘no,’ Kyoshi!”

Please, just for once. Don’t think of him. Don’t give in to him. Just tell him ‘no.’ Rangi sobbed internally. Lately, she couldn’t stop the thoughts she’d usually fought to ignore from bubbling to the surface. 

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow and gave her a joking smile. “And disobey the Avatar?”

Rangi stiffened. Yes. That’s exactly what she wanted. Every time she brought it up, it was another hit to her honor. Disobeying her honorbound duty. Each time she tried to find an excuse, to cover up her own horrid act and shame. “It’s not ‘disobeying’ if he gave you an option in the first place, right?”

“I don’t mind though,” Kyoshi said, smiling at Rangi. The same smile and expression she would make whenever she’d come home with dirty clothes and poorly covered bruises. When the other village teens had roughed her up or thrown mud and rocks at her. Rangi knew Kyoshi was lying, and it was making her sick to her stomach.

Kyoshi got closer to Rangi and whispered. “Plus he practically begged me. How could I say no?”

Rangi’s eyes widened. Is that it? Is that all? All Yun had to do was beg Kyoshi and he had her? A simple plea and she’d willingly give herself over?

Nausea started to take over and Rangi started feeling dizzy. It wasn’t fair. People took advantage of Kyoshi’s kind nature so often. And now she was marching herself to an executioner's block to unknowingly stroke Yun’s ego.

Rangi couldn’t have that. If she must, she’d stoop as low as those worms!

She saw Kyoshi had started walking and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her back.

“Then what about me, huh?” Rangi got in Kyoshi’s face. Her space. Trying to take up as much residency in Kyoshi’s being as possible. She only wanted the other girl to see her, only her, no one else. “What if I begged? What if I begged you not to come along? What would you do then?”

Would you afford me the same treatment as Yun? Would you give yourself to me too? Do I want you to? 

Rangi shook Kyoshi’s arm once and let her stoic mask crumple. She wanted Kyoshi to know how she truly felt. She wanted Kyoshi to realize someone cared about her. Wanted her to be safe. Not to run into danger because of some misguided duty. 

Rangi shook her arm again. “Please. Kyoshi, please don’t come with us,” she begged again. She’d beg as many times as it would take. 

Rangi watched as Kyoshi bit her lip and held the package she was holding tighter to her being. Recoiling from Rangi. 

She watched as Kyoshi went to form the words “I’m sorry” from her lips, before they got caught by the heat Rangi had started to form around them.

Rangi realized she couldn’t make Kyoshi do anything. Even Yun couldn’t make her do anything. Kyoshi was doing this because she chose to. Just like how she’d actively choose to not defend herself against her own bullies. 

Rangi was a fool, an idiot, to not see it before. Kyoshi had chosen and was doing what she wanted to do. In doing so, Rangi realized Kyoshi had also chosen Yun over her.

Rangi grimaced and released Kyoshi. “Forget it,” she said in defeat, as she walked away. If she couldn’t stop Kyoshi from going with them, then she’d need to find a way to protect her.

_____

A/N:Me: Rangi’s side is more serious! You need to treat it more seriously!Also me: Ok she’s kind of a loser, gotcha. TT0TT

 I love high blood pressure!Rangi, I love gremlin!Rangi. But lovesick!Rangi? Hmmm yes! *throws all three in a blender to mix them up* uwu

[mangosimoothie]

Chapter 14: 𝕽𝖊𝖚𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖓 (4/8)

Good news and bad news...

@invisiblequeen @bibliosims

start | prev | next

transcript:

OZANA: Oh heyyyyy, you’re back… 

RYAN: Yeah. And you wouldn’t believe who showed up at Ardor—

OZANA: Listen, I know it wasn’t what you wanted but she just seemed so sweet and kinda sad and like she genuinely cares about you. You should’ve seen how she just lit up when I mentioned Ardor, like I could just tell that she is so so proud of you, and maybe your issues with her have nothing to do with that, but I— 

RYAN: Ozana, you can stop. It was kind of nice to see her, actually. I think I might go from no to low contact with her. So, thanks for making that happen. 

OZANA: Oh! Sweet! I knew it’d work out. 

RYAN: Yup. And one more thing: you’re fired. 

OZANA: What?! But you said it was good!! 

RYAN: Yeah, and I also said don’t let her get fucking near me. You’re not here to try and make decisions on my behalf, you’re here to do what the fuck I say. 

OZANA: Dude…this blows.

[megafandombandgeekgirl]

Heyyyyy

Guess what just dropped!

Chapter 1 of my new Merthur fic :)

More to come……

[k-s-morgan]

Heyyyyy!!!! Hope you doing well. You probably don’t know me bc I’m a new fan. I was just wondering if you were ok and if something was preventing you from continuing the second fanfic on Tomarry? I really dint wnat to rush you and I’m genuinely asking out of concern and curiosity because I watch the news about Ukraine!

Hope you’re doing well,

Sads

Another ask: Since you posted like 2 or 3 chapters of those gentle slopes , will we be getting 2 or 3 chapters of TLWETD ? Also have you stated working on the new chapter for it ?

-------

Hi! The chapter that I was writing for my Black Butler story gained the insane volume of 50K+ words, so I had to break it into three parts, which is why I kept updating it. It was all one chapter, and I have this habit where I can't stop writing until I arrive at the point I have planned))

Right now, I'm done with this fic for a while, so I'll be focusing on ATLWETD. And yes, there will be a couple of updates, too, because the chapter will be long and it'll be easier to break it into parts.

I know it's been ages since the update, but I hope to compensate for it with the size of it! For some reason, it's easier for me to drop a 50K chapter once every 6 months than to make smaller but regular updates. No idea how it began but I can't seem to break this habit.

[chemtrails-over-the-cvntryclub]

Always Almost

Author's note: heyyyyy y'all (don't attack me for that) making fanfics is definitely something that's new to me, I don't even really write in my free time so definitely don't be expecting some shakespearean story lol just doin my best, but I’m soooo excited to join the fanfic community and can't wait to share my writing with all of you!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: “A love story is always equal parts tragic as it is beautiful, everything is, well It's always almost. I’ll be telling you my story of the moment my almost became my always.” “Now I won't lie to you and say this story is in any way happy. No if I'm being honest this story is one of the most crushing in my life so if you choose to stay happy leave now, but if you choose to test the waters and hear one of the most beautifully tragic love stories please stay. I promise my, no not my, her story is worth it.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The crisp fall air hit me as I stepped out of my car. My eyes fell upon the absolutely glorious school that was nevermore academy, where I expected to spend the next few years teaching. As I made my way up the steps into the school I was almost immediately greeted by the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. Her scarlet red lipstick paired perfectly with her ice blue eyes, her snow colored hair matching her cream colored dress, her hair twisted into a glorious bun framing her face in the most elegant way, and that smile the kind that shined so bright it would put a thousand suns to shame. I was not very instantly pulled out of my trance when I heard my name, it had to have been said at least 4 times by that point I just hadn’t taken the chance to notice. “Miss Winters?” She repeated  “Hmm? Oh my goodness I'm so terribly sorry I don’t know where I was just then” I try to laugh it off knowing there's no way she hadn’t noticed my previous behavior. “It's quite alright” she let out the faintest yet most beautiful chuckle “I was just asking if you would like a tour of the school” “Oh I mean I'm sure you don't have the time, you probably have a list of things to do-“ She cuts me off “oh I mean I wasn't necessarily volunteering, we have students who give the tours,” My face instantly turned beet red, how could I have been so idiotic of course she doesn’t give the tours what kind of principle would have the time for that. “…but if you would like me to show you around my schedule is actually clear for the afternoon”  “Well if you insist, I'm sure no one could give a tour as well as… my goodness I apologize I don't think I caught your name” “Well maybe because I didn't throw it” she chuckles “I'm Miss Weems but you can call me Larissa”

Larissa Weems, a name that no matter how it was spoken always managed to sound like that of an angel, and I was determined to make that angel mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[waywardsummoner46]

Eternity, Part One

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x (?)Reader

Summary: You should’ve known that running from your past would be your downfall… you just never would’ve imagined it’d land you right into the waiting arms of an Endless, one that’s been searching for you for eons. he may be trapped for now, but your new job at Fawny Rig may just be the solution for that. Heed the warnings: you took something from him and now he must consume you for himself…

Word Count: 2392

Warnings: mind manipulation/control, possessive and obsessive behaviour, mental breakdown, suggestions of psychological torture, threat of bones collapsing,more to added with more chapters

A/N: Heyyyyy, I know it's a tad bit late to be posting the first part to a prologue that was released like two months ago but it's here now! And it's longer than what I usually write so I hope that makes up for it. Enjoy this while you can because Morpheus is about to get a whole lot freakin' worse. As always, I hope you're okay and let me know what you think!

Fawny Rig had an… impressive exterior, to say the least. 

  Chuckling to yourself, you knew that living in somewhere as grand and beautiful as there would be a concept you’d never be able to experience. Although, based on the job description, it seemed as though the owners were quite friendly and presumably welcoming enough for it to seem like some sort of a home.

   Holding the advertisement in your hand, you contemplated how this would actually work; were you to be a permanent resident? Semi-permanent? Maybe this would be a day thing? Exhaling once, you decided just to wing it (within reason, of course).

  Speaking of wings, there was the distinct sound of a raven squawking in the distance. Curiously, you looked around and smiled slightly when you saw a beautiful raven perched upon your bag handle. 

  “Oh, aren’t you beautiful?” 

  Almost naively, you reached out a hand with the childish hope of being able to stroke the creature. You completely ignored the health risks that came with birds and it appeared to work out in your favour as the raven’s wings preened and glittered as the sun reflected off of them. 

  A small smile spread across your face, “Oh yes, you are. Absolutely gorgeous.” 

  For a while, you merely stood over your bags and admired the raven, so majestically offering itself up for your generous petting. However, the more you stroked it, the more the distinct feeling that you’d seen it before grew. Come to think of it, your palm had started itching… again. God dammit, you seriously needed to keep track of your meds.

  Reluctantly, you pulled one hand away from the bird and reached for your tablets in your pocket. The incessant crinkling of the paper annoyed you and furthered the  pain of trying to extract a pill from its case. Once you’d finally managed to wriggle it out, you let out a triumphant sound.

  The bird was temporarily forgotten and as you lifted the tablet up to your mouth, the screeching of the raven caused you to drop the pill. Exasperated, you turned to the raven. “Come on, dude. I need those.”

  When the bird raised a brow, you blinked incredulously. But then, it cawed a final time and flew off with the rest of your medication. “Hey! Get back here! This isn’t funny, bird!”

  “Miss, is everything alright?” A timid voice called from the entrance to the manor. Oh jeez, this was embarrassing .

  Turning around with, what you hoped was, a friendly and not-at-all crazy smile on your face, you made the regrettable decision to forget about the bird. “Yes, thank you. Sorry, a raven just stole my medication. I’m not crazy, I swear,” you offered a light chuckle.

 Luckily, the young lady seemed to accept your words for she made idle chit-chat as she invited you in. The maid,  Blythe as she’d introduced herself, led you into a well-furnished and incredibly artefactual, antiquated living room and told you to enjoy the pre-prepared drinks as she called your employers.

  Glancing around the room as her rhythmic footsteps grew quieter, you began to realise how out of your depth you were; never in your life had you been responsible for a job on such an important scale before. It wasn’t even that the job was difficult or in anyway out of your capabilities, it’s just that the weight of-

  “Ah, (Y/N), a pleasure to meet you. How are you? How was your trip? I hope you’re familiar with basements because that’s where you’ll be situated,” Alex Burgess spoke from where he was being wheeled by his husband, Paul. His bluntness caught you slightly off-guard, there was something underlying there that clearly made him anxious if his darting eyes were any indication.

  Immediately, you stood and stretched out a hand. “Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Burgess. My trip was good, thank you. And, yes, basements are something I’m acclimated to,” well that was complete and utter bullshit. Basements were a big no-no for you. Nothing good ever came from them, nothing, especially after…

  “Blythe informed me that a… raven… flew away with your medication?” He asked, drawing you away from your thoughts. Embarrassingly, your cheeks flushed and you began to stutter.

  “Y-yeah, that’s right. I didn’t even realise until it nearly deafened me.”

  Alex Burgess seemed to tense in  his wheelchair, why? You did not know, but curiosity killed the cat. “Is everything okay?”

  Snapping out a daze, he gave you a quick glance before asking Paul to guide him back upstairs. “Everything’s fine, thank you.” He gave you one last small smile before turning his attention to Blythe, “If you could show Miss (Y/N) to her room and inform her of her duties that would be marvellous.”

  Blythe paled almost imperceptibly, but you noticed, you always noticed. Worry churned your gut and your head turned suspiciously. 

  “Do you mean…?”

  He nodded and that’s all the answer she had before both Burgesses left. 

  Frozen, she stood in place and stared through the floor. The emptiness in her eyes made you uneasy. You took a tentative step towards her, “Blythe?” Snapping her head towards you, she stumbled away, her expression signifying she was seeing something you could not. “Woah, Blythe, take deep breaths. You’re safe, no one’s going to hurt you.”

  The young maid was incapable of listening, of seeing reason. Tempted to call for someone, you paused when her panicked breathing came to a halt. Similarly to before, she acted as though you were a window except this time she started muttering. It was indistinguishable at first, it soon grew to murmurs, to normal words, to shouts, and finally to panicked, urgent yells of pure unadulterated terror. 

  “Leave! You need to leave! He’s here, he knows you’re here. He won’t stop until you give. It. BACK! GIVE IT BACK! GIVE IT BACK!” 

  Now it was you who was frozen. Rational thought escaped you, instead overwhelming confusion and slight panic consumed you. What was she talking about? Who was “he”? How did he know you were here? What did he want back?

  Two men clad in suits walked in and wrestled with Blythe’s manic form out of the room, leaving you haunted by her echoing screams down the corridors. Concerned, though you were, bewilderment ceased you from forming any coherent functions for a time - only when Paul came to escort you to your room did you snap out of your daze.

  He made small talk as he guided you to your room, apologising for your rocky and traumatising beginning and assuring you that tomorrow wouldn’t be like this. You responded in kind, albeit numbly. In all honesty, you were disturbed with everyone’s behaviour above all else; Alex seemed anxious at  the mention of a raven, then Blythe had had a mental breakdown and what appeared to be a flashback and now, Paul was acting as though he was used to it, as though they were all used to it. 

  Despite your brain not working at full capacity, you managed to bid Paul a good evening and settled in for an early night. Despite your brain not working at full capacity, you knew that there was something going on here, something they were hiding. You’d be damned if you weren’t going to find out… What worried you was this man Blythe had spoken about and how he knew you were here. Another resident, perhaps? A neighbour? Couldn’t be, there wasn’t another house for miles, at least not one that you’d seen. 

  You had no further options, so you surrendered to exhaustion and hoped that your dreams might bring you some peace…

You were in the forest again. The same one. The same leaves crunching under your feet, the same sounds being your breath, the same stars gazing down at you from the heavens and the same raven, cawing nervously from where it was standing next to your sitting form.

  Regarding it with suspicion, you hesitantly gestured for it to perch itself on your shoulder. Once it did, your suspicion turned into contentment. Nature always puts you at ease, and after the night you’d had you needed a break. Speaking of the night you’d had,  your thoughts began to drift towards the inner turmoil Blythe’s outburst had caused you.

  The abruptness of the entire situation wasn’t lost on you, in fact, it only made you more and more anxious about the job you’d applied for on a whim. Because that’s all it was, wasn’t it? A whim?

  Your eyes absentmindedly traced the curves and edges of the leaves around you as you reflected on the past few days: you’d always made a point to consider things and pinpoint each and every outcome. Your experiences and past had instilled that habit into you from a very young age so your careless decision to take this job was extremely uncharacteristic and that scared you.

  No matter who you surround yourself with, you ensured that you never grew an attachment that could influence your decision making so you were left puzzled over your future and past - your present, even!

  Leaves crunching to your right jolted you out of your reverie. In your skittishness, the raven flew off your shoulder and onto the man who’d entered your space. You registered vaguely that you recognised him, his chiselled features and ethereal complex making it nigh impossible to forget and yet, a headache brewed when you thought too hard about it, about anything really.

  Your eyes looked over him and widened when they met his own; it was pure darkness. Pure darkness with hints of white, of-of stars, you realised, this man had literal space within his eyes.

  Dazedly, you muttered, “What the hell?”

  Calmly and with the grace of a king, he moved towards you. Half of you fought to step back but the other half was utterly captivated by his gaze, completely caught up in the vastness of his eyes and the emptiness within. 

  Suddenly, his gaze turned more intense and all fight left you within an instant. That stuck you as odd, why did your emotions sway that intensely? 

  Before you could question it, he raised his hand, his palm facing the sky, and your eyes were inexplicably glued to it. There was something scarily familiar about this situation… but even that nagging feeling wasn’t enough for you to ignore the urge to place your hand in his own. Eyes completely focused and brain becoming fuzzier by the second, you took in a shuddering gasp and moved your arm up.

  The distance between each of your hands was closing and with it the lack of coherent thought in your brain, the lack of any idea apart from take his hand.

  His celestial eyes were staring hungrily at your hand and when it finally, finally, made contact with his own, he let out a gasp so loud that it broke you out of whatever stupor you’d been in.

  “What the hell? Who are y-mmph!”

  The man had pulled you into his chest and now had both of his arms caging you in, like a bird imprisoned, completely helpless to its situation. Too awestruck to do anything apart from numbly stare into his shoulder, you struggled to comprehend your situation. You knew that this was a dream and yet the complete and utter ridiculous situation and worrying feelings you were experiencing caused scepticism to dominate your brain.

  The man was warm, you had to admit. Probably because of his intricately crafted black cloak. He was also strong if the feeling of his arms around you and your unfortunately placed hands on his chest were of any significance. 

  “Are you gonna let go any time soon, mister? Orrrrr…” 

  Speaking up was the wrong thing to do; his arms tightened once more except, they didn’t actually stop. You grew confused, and scared, especially once it became difficult to breathe. Was he trying to kill you with a hug? That would look amazing on a tombstone: “Death by Hug.” 

  Regardless of your wandering mind, your physical body was under extreme stress. Bones began to grind together and you could’ve sworn you heard some crack. There was no pain, though, so perhaps you were overreacting in the uncomfortable moment.

  “Once we have merged, my love, I will finally be able to care for you in the way only you deserve. But you must give it up to me, willingly,” his low voice directly in your ears sent chills down your spine. There it was again, this giving someone something back. Blythe’s outburst seriously did affect you, didn’t it?

  “This is no mere dream, little one. Have you truly forgotten me?”

  You tried to pull back slightly, to garner any sort of information from his facial expression that you couldn’t from his tone of voice, but he withheld unbearably tight - it was a struggle to even understand what he’d said. 

  You wet your lips, “I don’t even know who I… am… anymore.”

  Like he’d been struck, he reeled back and peered intensely into your half lidded eyes. He looked scandalised, but why? He didn’t know you, he didn’t even exist outside of this dream! You’d just had a taxing day and your subconscious was taking it out on you.

  A sudden look of pure rage crossed his face and you flinched back much like he had done only seconds before. As quickly as it had appeared, it vanished into a look of cold indifference. 

  “Then there is only one thing to be done.”

  Just like that, you awoke. The first thing you registered was the sounds of shouting, shortly thereafter an agonising scream permeated throughout the manor and you were instantly wide awake.

  Somehow you knew, you didn’t know how but you knew that something was wrong with Blythe. Something was wrong with this house and its residents. And you had a sneaking suspicion that it all stemmed from this… man… who haunted them before and who now haunts you.

  Fear unlike any other twisted your heart painfully behind your ribcage. Yet there was also something pulling at it, almost willing it in a way, to leave the room and investigate what was happening.   So you did what any other person would do - you left the confines of your room into what would unknowingly change your life… for eternity.

_____________

Tag list~

@lweina​

@azrielloveselain​

@the-ruler-of-death​

@moonmaiden1996​

@intothesoul​

@lilithskywalker​

@amandarobertsboyce

@carolcrysis​

[leighsartworks216]

The Viper: Rewritten

Chapter 9

First Chapter - Previous Chapter

Jaskier x gn!Witcher!reader

Heyyyyy soooooo I'm alive. It just took me a while for the Witcher fixation to come back enough to motivate me to work on this again. I still have really cool plans further down the line, I just really struggled with this chapter a lot until I realized I didn't have to use what I'd written before as groundwork at all.

Jaskier may be out of character, idk. I only watched a couple of compilations to get him back in my head

Warnings: mentions of injuries, pain, intimate moments that are not portrayed as intimate, referenced nudity, swearing

Word Count: 2068

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The steaming water stung your wounds, just on the verge of being painful and pleasant. Slowly but surely, it eased your tense muscles, washing away the tension crying over your dead brethren brought. Sandalwood and vanilla wafted into your nose.

Your eyes were still raw. You scooped a handful of water and scrubbed at your face, working to remove the evidence of your emotions from recent memory. It was, well, unsettling how easy it was to be human again around the bard. Growing up, strong emotions, outside of pride and joy, were punished until it was beaten into you to conceal them or otherwise forget they existed at all. Of course, back then, you’d taken to hiding them rather than erasing them from your repertoire. Stuldweck had been the only one to keep your secret.

Perhaps it was for the simple fact that Jaskier understood the gruffness of Witchers better than any other mortal on the Continent. He’d never begrudge you that act of intimidation within towns and villages, and you’d dare to say he even welcomed the fact you weren’t as up your ass as Geralt had been.

Or maybe it was all you - the last vestiges of your humanity the mages hadn’t been able to strip away, reaching out with both hands to hold onto someone else.

You could remember the teachings of your mentors, telling you now to get it together, to stop being a fucking rat, and be a viper.

You dunked your head under the water.

These thoughts were bringing you in useless circles, and what did it matter anyhow? Even Geralt knew that to stand completely alone as a Witcher is a lost battle. There should be no need to fight yourself over this.

When you came up, your head felt a mite clearer. But your senses prickled with the sudden awareness of just how quiet the room was. You peeked over your shoulder. The screen divider had been moved just enough to give him some line-of-sight, in case you needed help with your injuries as they were. And just there, eyes affixed to your back, was just the bard that tormented your thoughts.

“I can feel you staring.”

He jolted out of his revelry, blinking and turning away, shaking his head of whatever thoughts were bugging him. You wondered briefly if he was going through a similar war as you; bugged by how fast he put his trust into another Witcher.

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to,” he cleared his throat, “you know, sneak a peek, or anything.”

You hummed. A grin tugged at your lips, tempted to tease him about it. But the notes he began plucking on his lute as a distraction were an obvious insight into his mind. He’d only really played the old songs - those about Geralt, the incredible White Wolf - to make money, never to make anything new. But if he finally found the strength to scribble down some words and notes, it was better, then, to bite your tongue and give the bard the silence needed for his playing.

So you turned back around, and listened to the stuttered melody as you considered what comes next. Your path to Oxenfurt now that you’re in Tridam, the repairs needed to your armor and weapons, the potions you’d need to prepare for the road as well as provisions. As much as your body needed to rest to fully heal, bolstered by potions and mutations as it was, there would be no time for it, and resting would not grant you the coin needed to survive the trip.

If you could get to Crinfrid, you could cut through to Tretogor. It would bypass Vartburg and Drakenborg, towns you could rest and resupply in, but winter wouldn’t wait forever. Then, south west to Rdestowa Laka; it would put you just a few days out from Oxenfurt. Was it the best route? Perhaps not. It left you on the road more often than not, but the sooner you could reach Oxenfurt, the more time Jaskier would have to settle for the coming months.

And what would you do when you get there?

Visions of these moments, of times spent in inns with the bard, chatting and relaxed, flit by. Temptations to live like a human. To sit and watch the snow fall without the burden of wading through the snow to kill wraiths and rotfiends. Humans had holidays, too. Celebrations of winter and enchanting gifts.

Could you really experience that, too?

No, you think. You couldn’t.

Jaskier is humming under his breath as you resign to getting out of the bath. Whatever blood he’d missed while cleaning you in your unconsciousness was well and truly washed away by now, and moping in the steam could only serve you for so long.

You hissed as you pushed yourself forward, the stitches along your spine pulling taught at your skin. Jaskier was up on his feet in a moment.

“Let me help. We really don’t need you hurting yourself any more; my needlework isn’t quite up to snuff.” He appeared at your side, leaned down and guiding your good arm over his shoulders. With a hand at your side, he helped you get to your feet. As soon as you were standing, he grabbed the towel hanging on the room divider and handed it to you, eyes safely averted.

“You ever tried?”

He huffed a laugh as he sat back down on the bed, pointedly looking at the open journal next to him. “On one rather optimistic day, I’d had the brilliant idea of sewing the Countess de Stael a dress.”

You held the towel around you as you padded across the floor to your bags. Clean clothes were a luxury you couldn’t quite manage. The shirt you dragged out smelled like Bayard, and the pants were beginning to fray. But it was always better than marinating in dried blood, and you’re sure Jaskier would like his own clothes back.

“Of course, I had absolutely no idea how to go about making an entire dress, let alone how to sew fabric together.” You carried your clothes back by the tub and shifted the divider so you were hidden from view. He listened to the rustling of fabric, thumbing thoughtlessly at the strings of his lute once more. “By the time I’d ‘finished’, I had what was essentially a potato sack with frills.”

You snorted at the image. “So asking you to patch up my clothes is out of the question, then?”

“Ah, yeah, definitely.”

You push the screen to the side, fully dressed in your black garb, and drop your dirty clothes back in your bag. You begin to toss the white shirt on top of Jaskier’s things, until you remember his more refined tastes. You’d never really given any thought to the state of clothes aside from if they were wearable. Not even in Gorthur Gvaed, when you technically had your own room and clothes to tend to. It was better just to chuck them all somewhere the rats wouldn’t eat through them.

You did your damned best to fold it in a way that made sense. It was shit, you know that. You had no idea what to do with the sleeves. Jaskier chuckled behind you once he realized what you were doing.

“Don’t worry about that, Viper.”

You huffed, tossing the shirt with his stuff. “You can’t sew, and I can’t fold. Good thing we’re not launderers.”

You grabbed your bag off the floor and carried it to the bed. You should patch up your armor, at least. And you were running low on potions. And it’d be a good idea to sharpen your blades; bandits probably banged them up when they tossed all your shit around.

Jaskier sighed as he watched you begin pulling things out and laying them on the bed. “Gods, are all Witchers allergic to rest, or something?” He gestured incredulously to your arm. “You’re injured! Stop,” he pulled your sewing kit away, “pulling more stuff out! You should be resting, healing.”

“I told you, Jask, I don’t rest until a job is done. Now give it back.” You held your hand out for the kit.

That only seemed to spur him on more. “What job?! Taking me to Oxenfurt isn’t- isn’t a job! I’m not even paying you for it!”

You reached for the kit, despite the burning along your spine. “Until you’re there safe, it is a job! Coin or no coin!” He stretched his arm out further, lute and journal forgotten in favor of playing keep away. “Jaskier, give me back my shit!”

“Nah-ah-ah!” His lute slid aside as he climbed further on the bed to keep his hand out of your reach. “Not until you promise to rest!” His eyes lit up with an idea. “I’ll help, even! Just tell me what to do!”

Undeterred, you climbed after him. He knew, despite your wounds, it would not be difficult for you to manhandle him. You could easily grab his arm and wrench it back to you, drag him by an ankle back to your side of the bed. But you didn’t.

“You can’t sew!” You hissed as you climbed over him, straddling his waist and pressing his chest down, reaching over to try grabbing your kit, just inches still out of reach.

“No, but I can do something else! Anything! I’ll- I’ll sharpen your knives-”

“Daggers.”

“Mix potions, anything!” Your hand finally caught the kit and you met his eyes, breathing far heavier than you should be. You really were out of fighting form, no matter how much you hated to admit it. His big, blue eyes pleaded up at you. “Please? Let me be useful.”

You stared for a hard moment. Your eyes were orange around the edges. He’d never noticed before. You sighed. “Fine.” He lit up.

“Really?”

You tugged the kit out of his hand and began the effort of sitting up. Which, unsurprisingly, hurt far worse than crawling over him to begin with. You grit your teeth and forced yourself up anyway, Jaskier’s hands suddenly finding your waist to support you up.

“Shit. Probably not the best I could have done.” He grimaced apologetically as you rolled yourself off of him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, probably not,” you grunted. You carefully felt along your spine, testing the injury with featherlight touches. It was nowhere near as painful as it could be, but that wasn’t saying much when it already felt like some beast was trying to rip you open with a thousand needle-like talons.

He scootched to sit down beside you. He felt helpless in all this. Having to watch as you suffer through injuries gathered to save both your skins, when all he had to show for it was a healing scratch and immense guilt. “Would that flower mixture-thing, whatever it was, would that help?” He gestured holding the small container in his hand.

“A bit, but not enough to bother.” You sat still for another moment before you seemed to push it all back far enough to ignore, opening your eyes again and turning toward your bag. “I don’t have a whole lot you can do to help me; I’ve just gotten used to doing it all alone.”

“Hey, you promised.”

You waved his worry away. “I know.” You looked at all the jars and herbs crammed inside, at the whetstone in its own pocket. Did you trust Jaskier enough to properly sharpen your weapons?

…

Well…

No.

You turn toward him, leveling him with a serious look. “If I show you forbidden knowledge that would get me killed if any other Witchers found out I’d done so, do you swear on your life not to ever share that knowledge?”

He blinked at you. “Wha- Really? You want to give me forbidden knowledge?” He scoffed when you didn’t show any signs of this being a joke. “Are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“That depends. Would you keep it a secret?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Even if you were being tortured for it?”

“Ye- Tortured?! What kind of fucking information is this?!”

“Jaskier! Would you?”

“Yes, fine, alright! I won’t tell a bloody soul!”

“Good.” You turned back to your bag and began pulling out jars of all sorts of things. “I’m gonna teach you how to make Witcher potions.”

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain @sleepyqueerenergy @adozenforks @plaguedoctorsnake @solomonssimp @cool-ontherun-world @emiemiemiii @lynnlovesthestars @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @jlnoodles

[transitranger327]

Trying to Breathe

Summary: Despite being brought back from the brink of death, the girls are NOT okay. Both are mourning the mission, Jecki is still injured, and something has fundamentally changed between them…

Notes: Hope y’all enjoy this shorter Oshecki chapter

It started by accidentally waking each other up.

Voices, undoubtably theirs, and yet unspoken.

Osha was the first to come to, groaning as if hit by an airspeedeer, thinking “ugh, what happened?”

Still in pain, an internal “aaaahhhhh why does it hurt so much‽” exploded from Jecki’s now-conscious mind. She tried sitting up, but found it to be too much effort. 

Startled by the intrusion into her mind, Osha scrambled off of the padawan. It was unlike both the typical and atypical Jedi mind magic. “How did you do that?” The hasty movement took more out of her than she expected, and had to prop herself against a tree. 

An air of confusion emanated from Jecki, “Do what?” She coughed a bit, in between slightly wheezy breaths, her newly repaired lungs not working as well as she was used to. 

Now Osha was confused too. “I thought you—I thought I—” but she cut herself off. “I’m not even sure what happened, I don’t know the right question to ask.” She took a deep breath, then asked a more sensible question: “Are you okay?”

“Osha,”—Jecki had to take shallow breaths—“you know that’s not,”—another breath—“the right question. I’m,”—a wheeze—“obviously injured.” She collapsed back onto the ground, having previously managed to sit slightly up on her elbows. 

The phrase “right question” bothered Osha, but she didn’t exactly have time to reflect on it with Jecki still severely hurting. Hell, she could barely keep thinking straight. “Let me see if I can contact anyone,” she reached for PIP. “Oh no.” PIP’s antenna was on his head, which was now missing. “Probably in a moth’s stomach now.” She tried to mask her sadness, “I don’t have a communicator anymore.” 

“She must’ve lost PIP,” thought Jecki, “that’s too bad, I liked the little guy.” “I have a comlink in my pocket,”—she took a pained breath—“can you come over here and use it?” As her friend crawled over, she thought “left pocket.”

Osha instinctively reached for her comrade’s left pocket, and found a small comlink. It felt slightly scandalous, being so close, having to crawl over the other woman’s body. Trying to distract herself, she pulled away, sat up, and activated the distress signal. An angry beep emerged from the device. “It’s having a hard time connecting to the HoloNet.” She frowned, “We might need to get closer to civilization to contact the other Jedi.” Then an immense sadness washed over her. She turned and saw tears streaming from Jecki’s brown eyes.

“Don’t worry about the past, don’t worry about the future, there is only the Force.” Jecki tried to control her emotions, but breathing hurt so much it was hard to find balance. “Everything hurts so much.” Her body ached from the partly-healed wounds, her soul ached for the loss of Yord and her other friends, her spirit ached because the mission failed. Without realizing it, the only outlet for her emotions were tear ducts. In her blurring vision, she saw Osha lean back over her.

“Heyyy, heyyyyy, it’s okay to cry.” She had begun wiping away Jecki’s tears with the corners of her sleeve. “I know everything hurts. Just stay with me, okay?” “I wish I could hold her and make her feel safe,” thought Osha, “She comforted me just hours ago.”

A thought appeared in Jecki’s mind. “I need to be held.” While this wasn’t a new thought for her, it was rare. It wasn’t often that she craved that kind of physical contact. “Osha, can you,”—pained breath—“please hold me?” 

This gave Osha pause. That kind of vulnerability wasn’t something she often traded in, trying to keep everything behind clever snark or careful detachment. But something deep inside her pressed play, “What the hell, I need to be held too.” She lied down next to Jecki, tucked one arm under the younger woman’s head, and tenderly pulled her onto her side. They were now looking into each other’s eyes, tears in all four.

A whisper, “only if you hold me.”

A tear-drenched embrace.

[eldest-daughters]

Heyyyyy I started a new fic lol it’s omegaverse broppy. Veryyy self indulgent with this one. Heed the warnings!! Nothing too bad rn but the next chapter might be a doozy.