#because there are so many things I *could* do successfully if I just fucking managed to get out of bed consistently

[umilily]

i really am the definition of wasted potential.

[bloatedandalone04]

The Only Reason

➪the one where leon finally gives you some much needed closure after four months of feeling nothing but regret from what he did.

Warnings: angst, fluff, making out, swearing, mentions of cheating, cheating, toxic relationships, mentions of a bad past, mentions of weight loss, all the ada slander in the world because i actually cannot stand her, mentions of unwanted sexual attention (from ada to leon), unwanted intimacy (from ada to leon), eating disorders (implied)

Word Count: 5.2k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The loud music and thumping of the walls were the last thing on Leon’s mind as he scanned every single room of the house. Chris decided to throw a housewarming party for Claire at her new place, and of course Leon was invited. 

Leon refused the initial invitation, but quickly changed his mind when Chris told him that you would be there. It seemed as though the brunet had long since grown sick of his friend’s moping and knew he had to do something about it. 

Pretty much everyone that Leon knew was here, yet he couldn’t seem to find you. The house wasn’t big, and it didn’t have very many rooms, but it seemed like it was still impossible to locate you. Not that he even had a right to. 

If he does manage to find you, what would he even say? “I’m sorry for everything, and for letting you leave without trying to fight for you. Also, I don’t blame you for ignoring my calls and not texting me back, I deserve that.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he sounded that desperate. Back when he was a dumb twenty one year old, he supposed. 

Leon has been here for over an hour now, and he still hasn’t seen you once. He was beginning to think that Chris lied to him just to get him out of the house he used to share with you. While he wouldn’t put it past him, Leon wanted to give Chris the benefit of the doubt and believe that he had good intentions when he invited him to this thing. 

Nearly giving up on his search, Leon heads back to the kitchen, where Jill hands him a bottle of beer. She leans against the counter and he does the same, his eyes still expertly scanning the room, just in case.  “Hey, Kennedy,” she greets as she sips on her own beer. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy with work?”

Leon shrugs, his face almost emotionless. “Yeah,” he lied. Of course he had been going to work and successfully completing missions, but he hadn’t left the house outside of that. Work usually took up a good portion of his time, and the rest of it was spent thinking about how badly he fucked things up with you. 

It wasn’t even worth it. Ada. 

He hadn’t seen her since he broke off their little agreement a month before he confessed to you, despite her texting him and asking to meet up so he can fuck her in exchange for information he thought was worth more than you. 

It really wasn’t. 

He’s been ignoring her texts for months now, just like how you’ve been ignoring his. 

Leon had never blocked someone’s number ever in his life, but Ada was about to be the first if she didn’t take the hint and leave him the fuck alone. 

As much as he wanted to put all the blame on her, he knew it was half his own fault, as well. He couldn’t believe he had gone back to Ada Wong when he had you, his entire world, waiting for him at home. 

He knew he would never forgive himself, even if you somehow managed to move on and forgive him for the worst mistake he had ever made in his twenty nine years of living. 

Four months. 

It’s been four months and he was still beating himself up for what he did to you. 

“Yeah, Chris and I are looking into this new virus that is spreading down in Oxford. The cases have been going up daily, might be something you can help out with,” she offered, leaning closer to him so he could hear her better over the loud music. “You’re more experienced with viruses than anyone else I know.”

Leon gave her a tight lipped smile. “Sure, Jill,” he replied. “Whatever you need.”

“Great,” she says as she finishes off her beer. “You staying long? I never took you as the party type.”

He really wasn’t. He hadn’t been to a party since he was nineteen. Even the frat parties he was invited to were boring, so he never had the urge to go to anymore after the age of twenty. Until now, because he was told that you would be here. 

And he wanted to see you so badly. 

“I’m not, really,” he agreed and brought the bottle up to his mouth. “I just thought someone I know would be here-”

He wasn’t able to take a sip of the alcohol before his eyes landed on you as soon as you entered the room. 

All words had died on his tongue and the bottle was raised half way before his hand froze. 

You looked beautiful. Your cute white dress fit you well and showed off the concerning amount of weight you had lost. He hadn’t seen you that small since the beginning of your relationship, back when you didn’t know how to take care of yourself and listen to your body’s warnings. 

Leon felt his heart constrict at the thought of you going back to your old ways of ignoring the signs your body tried giving you. You were barely getting by when he met you, and you hadn’t gone completely back to that since leaving him, if your makeup and pretty hair were anything to go by. 

You hadn’t given up on yourself entirely, and that gave him enough hope that you would be okay. Even if he was given the chance to talk to you and explain things, he knew you weren’t completely broken like you were when you first started dating, and that you would be fine if you decided to never forgive him. 

Looking as shy as ever, you inch further into the room, seeming to have not noticed Leon yet as you ventured over to the bottles of booze that had been set out on the counter. “Oh, shit, is that Y/n?” Jill asked as she squinted in your direction. “I didn’t know she was coming, but that pretty much explains why you’re here. Are you okay?” 

Leon watched as you browsed through the drink options, dropping his arm back to his side and not caring about the beer that splashed onto his hand at the quick movement. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he slowly shook his head, a quiet “No,” leaving his mouth afterwards. 

Jill looked between the two of you, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to move to another room?”

Leon shook his head again. “No. You said it yourself, Jill. This is why I’m here,” he muttered and watched as a younger guy moved to stand next to you. He helped you pour a large amount of vodka mixed with ginger ale into a cup, and he quickly recognized the guy as one of the new agents Claire had befriended named Kegan. 

Kegan stepped closer to you and Leon could instantly tell that you were uncomfortable. He knew you like the back of his hand and could tell when you got nervous or anxious, like how you are right now. 

Leon stood up straight and placed the untouched bottle of beer behind him on the counter before making his way across the kitchen. 

Within four strides he is behind you and towering over Kegan, who noticed Leon long before you did. “Kennedy? Leon Kennedy is actually at a party? Wow, never thought I’d see the day,” 

Leon glared at him and it was then when you realized who was standing behind you. “You don’t know me,” Leon stated as you turned to face him, but he just kept his eyes on Kegan. Leon had quite the reputation at work, and he was well known as the guy who is more than capable of completing any mission, no matter how tough it may be. 

That being said, his superiority often annoyed the new guys as they tried to live up to the high expectations and standards of Leon Kennedy. 

“And you don’t know her, but I do, and I know she wants you to leave her alone but is far too nice to actually say that to you, so I’ll do it for her,” Leon continued and felt his heart skip a beat at the quiet gasp that left your lips. 

Kegan looked between you and Leon, and more specifically the protective look in his eyes, before backing away with his hands up. “My bad, man,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize she was with you.”

He disappeared in the crowd as you turned completely to face your ex. “You didn’t need to do that,” you muttered and Leon could feel his face heat up at the fact that you were actually talking to him. You wore an annoyed look, but still, you’re talking to him. “I could’ve done that myself.”

Leon forced a grin to form on his lips. “But I bet you’re glad I did it, instead,” when you just shook your head and began to leave the kitchen, Leon stepped in front of you, refraining from grabbing your hand like he so desperately wanted to. “Wait, please.”

“What, Leon?” You asked and you sounded so exhausted, it made his heart physically break a bit. “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”

“Everything,” he answered instantly. “I want to say everything I didn’t say the day you left. Please, give me a chance.”

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms. “It’s been months, Leon,” 

“Four,” he confirmed, watching the brief shock that flashed across your face. “And I’ve thought about you everyday for every one.”  

You give him a conflicted look that is quickly followed by a sigh. “There is nothing you can say that will fix what happened, just so you know,” 

Leon nodded and held his hand out to you, surprise filling him when you actually took it. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t your fault, and that it’s all on me,” he promised as he led you towards the front door, missing Chris’ look of relief as he passed him.

While he didn’t know the full story of what his friend did to you, he knew Ada had been involved in the reason you were no longer together. Chris was never a fan of Ada and how she treated Leon whenever the two crossed paths, and he was sure the blond felt the same way after being her little pet for years. He was sure the two of you would end up getting married, so he could not fathom how the fuck Leon had let Ada get in the way of what you and he had. 

All in all, he was sick of Leon’s bad moods, and wanted his friend to go back to normal. Well, as normal as Leon Kennedy could be. 

Leon led you out onto the front porch, and with one look from him, the two guys who were standing out there quickly scampered back into the house. Once you were alone, he turned back to face you with guilty eyes, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say to you. 

He had wanted the chance to talk to you again for months, and now that you are actually here in front of him he was blanking. 

But he wouldn’t let his inability to form a proper sentence be what cost him his once chance at explaining to you why he did what he did.

An apology would be a good place to start, right?

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly as he finally allowed himself to look into your guarded eyes. You looked at him as if he were a stranger, and he supposed he kind of is now. The person you both thought he was would’ve never done what he did to you, no matter how important those fucking files were. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

You nod and lean back against the railing, crossing your arms as you stare at him with a soft glare. “I’m really glad we agree on that,”

He knew he deserved that. He deserved worse, actually, but you were simply too kind to completely go off on him, and he simply never deserved you in the first place. “That’s fair, you’re being hostile,” he mumbled and felt his skin begin to heat up under his dark leather jacket. “I know I have no right to even be talking to you right now, but I just need you to know that what I did with Ada was the worst thing I have ever done, and I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. None of them cost me you, though, so they’re not very high on that list.” 

You tense up at the name you’ve hated since the second you heard it, and the mention of her sent your insecurities right back to the front of your mind. “Yeah, well,” you trail off, kicking a stone that was on the porch away from you as you avoid his stare. “I hope she was worth it, because I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the fact that Ada fucking Wong is the reason the best relationship I had ever been in ended.”

“She wasn’t worth it,” he said instantly, taking a cautious step towards you. “She was never worth it, even back when I was a stupid twenty one year old and trying to start my career. She never cared, and I wasn’t smart enough to see that. I’m not smart at all. If I had half a brain I would’ve never gone back to her ever again.” 

You shake your head. “You can say that now, but it doesn’t change anything,” you mumbled. “You cheated on me with the one person I’ve been worried about since day one. You promised me that she was in your past, and that you were over her. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that. Guess we’re both fucking dumb.”

“No,” he said sternly. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. Ada hasn’t had control over my heart for a long time now, it’s always been you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met, and that was years ago. I know I fucked up, but I’ve never stopped believing that you’re it for me. I don’t want anyone else, and that was clear after I met you.”

Your lip was quivering just slightly and you blinked back tears, trying to stick to your promise of never crying over the man in front of you ever again. You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep that promise if you were to continue to talk to him. “Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?” You regretfully ask and quickly add, “And I want the truth, not some bullshit story you always seem to come up with. Be honest with me, Leon.”

Leon really felt pathetic at this point as he felt his heart jump a bit at the fact that you said his name. He missed you so much, he missed hearing your voice, and he missed the way his name sounded when it came out of your mouth. 

He knew his answer wouldn’t satisfy you at all, but he said it anyway, “It was just about work,”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say angrily, wiping under your eyes before he could see your tears. “Don’t waste anymore of my time, Leon. I refuse to spend another second with you if you’re just going to lie to me. You’ve done that enough.”

Leon shut up after that, shifting from one foot to the other and beginning to feel anxious. He shouldn’t feel this way around you. He had known you for four years and been with you for three, he should feel comfortable around you, but he supposed he lost that right, too. 

At his lack of words, you turn away and are about to head back inside when he grabs your wrist and pulls you away from the door. “Y/n, wait,” he begs, blue eyes clouding over with desperation as he stares hopelessly down at you. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. There are no words that could ever describe it. I hate that I hurt you and I hate that I fucked up the best thing I had going for me. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You fell silent as your eyes flickered from his lips then back to his eyes. 

What if….for just one more night…what if.

“I should’ve never let you walk out that day without explaining to you that it was all my fault, just like how I should’ve never let Ada come anywhere near me. But I’m weak,” he was saying all the words he should have said to you the day he confessed that he had been seeing Ada. God, even her name made a feeling of disgust creep into his bones. “I’ve always been weak when it comes to you and my job and everything. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, but you made me feel like I was. I can’t believe I took that for granted.” 

Your eyes burned once again and you moved to lean back against the railing when he inched closer.

“You’re everything to me, sweetheart,” he sounded so genuine, you almost thought you could believe him. He placed his hands on the railing behind you and leaned down so his face was close to yours. “You always will be. She is, by far, the biggest mistake of my life and I promise that I haven’t seen her since. I can’t stand even thinking about her-”

He wasn’t able to finish that sentence as you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

Just one more night. 

You just needed one more night with him, one where you could pretend you were still happy and still in love. One where you were still oblivious to the affair he was having with his ex…or whatever the fuck they were. 

Just one more night to fuck him out of your system, then you’ll never have to see him again after this. 

Leon got lost in the feeling of having your lips on his for the first time in months. His hands immediately grip your waist and his body presses right up against your own. 

He missed you more than anything else in the entire world. Every single inch of you, he craved it everyday. He was so fucking angry with himself for how he destroyed your relationship and for how he hurt you after he swore he wouldn’t. After he swore he was different. 

Really, he wasn’t far off from the assholes you had given your heart to in the past, even though he tried so hard to be. 

His fingers bunch up the fabric of your dress and he wanted to take you right there, right against the railing of his friend’s new porch, but you deserved more than that. He wanted to give you more than that. 

Your hands slide up to tangle in his hair and he never thought he’d ever get to feel your soft yet firm touch again. He couldn’t help but melt into it. 

Your lower back pressed against the cool metal and the contrast of it had you gasping against his mouth. 

Leon groaned at your quiet sound of pleasure and couldn’t deny how it went straight to his dick. Sometimes he really hated being a man who had no control over that part of his body. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Missed everything about you, pretty girl.” 

You moan into his mouth and he swallows it like the greedy man he is. “Take me home, Leon,”

It was like a switch had been flipped. He pulled away but kept his hands on your hips. Now that he had gotten a taste of you again, he never wanted to let you go. But he needed to focus on why he sought you out tonight. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off, noting the brief look of embarrassment that flashed in your eyes. “I don’t want you to think that this is all I wanted out of-”

“I want it, Leon,” you cut him off, pulling him closer by his jacket. “I want you. I know you don’t want me anymore, but-”

He shook his head and pressed another kiss to your lips, against his better judgment. “I do still want you, baby,” he promised. “I want you, always.”

You bite down on your lip and don’t miss the way his eyes flicker downwards when you do so. “Then take me home,” you pressed, watching as he seems to have an inner battle with himself. 

You weren’t sure what result you wanted out of this; him agreeing and getting you off one last time, or him rejecting you of what he so gladly took from Ada. 

 Either way would provide you with some closure, you’d hope. 

A few more seconds pass before he’s moving away and taking your hand. He leads you to his car and drives the familiar road to the house you lived in with him not too long ago. 

As he guided you through the very door you walked out of the day he told you what he did, he gave you a conflicted look as he said, “Just so you know, this isn’t all I want from you. I meant everything I said before,”

You give him a blank look as you move closer to him. “I don’t care,” 

Leon looked like he was in agony as you grabbed his jacket and pulled it from his body. “Don’t say that,” he begged. “Please.”

You don’t say anything else as you pull on his hands and walk backwards until your knees hit the edge of the couch. Sitting on the armrest, you run your fingers down his toned chest and try to remember that this will be a one time thing. He wasn’t yours and this wouldn’t be like all the other times you and he had been intimate. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest. “So please, don’t say anything else.”

Leon could only nod, regret filling him at what he knew he made run through your head. You thought this was all he wanted, when in reality he just wanted you back. 

He leaned down and gently grabbed either side of your face as he kissed you deeply, pushing you back against the very couch you broke up with him on four fucking months ago. 

It was too much, but he couldn’t stop. He was too afraid you’d leave him forever if he did. He really was fucking weak when it came to you. He was selfish. 

He wanted you back so badly, his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. His lips were placing kisses desperately to your mouth as he felt your legs wrap around his waist. 

Leon wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to function again if you were to never talk to him after this. He didn’t even want to think about it. 

But it seemed as if you were doing the opposite. 

He kissed along your neck for a few seconds before hearing a sharp intake from you that was followed by the push of your hands against his shoulders. “Wait,” you nearly gasp, sitting up when he instantly pulls away from you, proving to you that he is at least a little better than your past boyfriends. They would have ignored you and continued touching you until they got what they wanted. 

Leon stood back and put a bit of distance between the two of you, his eyes guilty and his heart on his sleeve. “I’m sorry,” he says and you just shake your head, straightening your dress back out. 

“No, I initiated this. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me,” you apologize and stand up. “I should go. This was a mistake.” 

Leon felt his heart break as you quickly stood up and made your way to the door. He got flashbacks to the day you left him, and he knew he wasn’t prepared to see you walk out that door for the second time. 

Maybe he didn’t have to.  

You passed by the counter and abruptly stopped, your eyes fixated on something on the granite. Leon held his breath as he watched you move towards the island, your hand reaching out to grab his keys. “Leon,” you gasped quietly, your fingers gently moving something on the chain. He knew what was on it. The ring haunted him every time he used his keys, and that was the exact reason why he attached it to the chain in the first place. 

He stayed still when you turned to look back at him, his keys held tightly in your hand.

“You kept it?” You asked in a hoarse voice. You would recognize that ring anywhere, even after only seeing it one time. You couldn’t believe he kept it instead of selling it, and you were heartbroken to discover that he saw it every day whenever he entered or left his house. 

Your question offended him, but he’d never show it. “Of course I kept it,” and yet another flashback flickered in his head. 

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer, but you asked, anyway, “Why?”

Leon hardly moved as he answered, “As a reminder,” 

And it was the truth. 

And then you broke your promise as the first of many tears began to fall. 

You wished you never met him. Never said yes when he asked you out on a date, said no when he asked you to move in. You wished you didn’t agree to come to that stupid housewarming party, because now you felt lost all over again. 

Setting the keys loudly on the counter, you turn to face him fully. “Why?” You asked, your voice angry and shaky as you tried to keep your cool. “Why did you do it? I loved you more than anything else. You saved my life, Leon. Why didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Leon felt his own eyes burn as he stepped away from the couch but made no move to walk over to you. “It means the world to me, Y/n,” he promised, his heart begging his body to take you into his arms, but he held back. “So do you.”

Your lower lip trembled as you moved to stand in front of him. “Why?” You ask again, much quieter this time around. You reach up and push on his chest just slightly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t faze him one bit. And it didn’t. “Why did you go to her?”

Leon refrained from taking your hands that were still on his chest in his. “Because she had something I needed,” he regretfully answered. 

Your brows furrow and he knew he accidentally offended you with his poor choice of words. “What, I wasn’t good enough? Didn’t put out enough for you?”

“No,” he said immediately, going against his better judgment again and wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “You’re more than enough for me. You always have been and you will be forever. The thought of doing that with her made me sick and I hate myself for it, but it was the only way she would give me the information I needed for my job.”

Your eyes softened a bit but your whole body was still guarded. “Your job you can’t tell me anything about?” 

“Yes,” he whispered, his face twisting up in agony when more tears fell from your eyes. “That’s the only reason I went to her. She had something I needed, but if I ever had to do it all over again, I’d tell her to fuck off and I’d get it some other way. I can’t stand the fact that I hurt you like that.”

You tried to process his words, but you didn’t know what to think anymore. 

You believed him, and it was clear he felt awful about all that came out of his encounters with Ada. But you also weren’t sure what he wanted out of this encounter with you. Yeah, it appeared he wanted to fix things, but who’s to say he won’t shatter your heart again? 

You couldn’t take much more. You knew that. 

“It was just for work?” You asked quietly, avoiding his eyes as he pressed your hand flat against his chest. “You’re not in love with her?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head to further get the point across. “No. I don’t love her, not anymore. Maybe I never did. She never made me feel the things you did and still do. My heart was never hers. It’s yours. Even after tonight, I’ll still be yours, even if you aren’t mine.”

Your eyes were begging for a break, but the tears kept coming. “My heart is yours, Leon. It’s yours to break,” you whisper. “And you did.”

He couldn’t stop himself from taking you into his arms. He wrapped you up and let out a sigh of relief when you let him, and even held onto his waist. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “So fucking sorry. I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’d use my last breath for you, baby. You’re my entire world. You’re everything.”

“Leon,” you beg, bunching his shirt up in your fists. “Don’t do this to me again. Don’t hurt me again, I-....I can’t take it.”

“I won’t,” he promised, cradling the back of your head in his hand as if you were the most frail and fragile thing in the world. “I love you so much. It’s you who I want for the rest of my life. I never doubted that. I never want you to doubt that.”

You nod and press your head to his chest. “It’s going to take some time,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe a lot of time-”

“I’ll wait forever for you,” he swore, leaning back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He was shaking now, disbelief filling his entire being at the fact that you were letting him hold you like this again. 

You look over at his keys before meeting his eyes again. “I won’t forget about what you did, Leon,” you murmur, watching the guilt seep back into his blue orbs. “But I’m willing to forgive….I just need time.”

Leon nodded, wrapping you back up in his arms. “I’ll give you all the time you need, I promise,” he rasps. “Just don’t leave me again.”

He had no right asking you that, but he also had no control over his words at this point. 

But you just pressed your lips to the side of his neck. “Don’t give me another reason to,”

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

MISS ME ?

Pairing - Jackson Rippner x fem!reader

Summary - Jackson was assigned with assassinating you, but how could he kill such a sweet thing like yourself?

Warnings - 18+, noncon, dubcon, stockholm syndrome, smut.

Word count - 1.3k

Your apparent premature death was a tragedy to the world. A sudden shock to hear a promising young woman to have been deemed dead by a shipwreck with a handful of casualties. It was predicted that you would live a fulfilling life, by being the daughter of an established politician. You were goal driven, focused on your studies and wanted to help change the world for the better. That was all gone now, but you were never even on the fucking boat.

When Jackson Rippner was assigned with assassinating you for revenge against your father, the first thing he wondered was who would want to kill a sweet thing like yourself? The more he studied you, the more he desired you. It was only reasonable to have a taste of you before he killed you. It’d be like throwing away a freshly baked cake.

But he became infatuated by you when you fought, swore, cried and begged underneath him. The way you were able to make him come so fucking hard, not to mention the way he was able to make you come so fucking hard, sealed a new fate for you.

Jackson was never one to renegotiate, but he made an exception for you. For free of charge on Jackson’s sole behalf, and an unwritten waiver that if you were to ever be found alive, the client and Jackson’s company had no involvement, you could live. He thought he was doing you a favour, you were not dead because of him. But you weren’t exactly living either.

Your prison was a modern cabin in upstate New York. Jackson chose this home many years ago because he liked being secluded, he didn’t trust people and valued his privacy. It never really crossed his mind that he would share his humble home with anyone in the near future.

“Sweetheart?” Jackson called out, shutting the garage door behind him and dropping his suitcase.

He pouted his lips as he looked around the main living area for you. He climbed up the flight of stairs and headed straight for the bedroom, a smirk on his lips. You weren’t on the bed, but in the corner of the room all curled up.

“Oh baby” Jackson sighed as he slid off his jacket. You looked up to him with tear stained eyes. “Come here” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Hesitantly, you got up and gradually went to him. You straddled his lap, because he would have it no other way and he caressed your flustered cheeks.

You couldn’t help but to be relieved when he did come home. Isolation can drive people insane. He liked not talking to you when he was gone, just to make you go that little bit more crazy that what if he never came back. He thought it would make you acknowledge him more, he was right.

“Oh, how I missed you baby. Sorry I was gone for so long, business just got a bit out of hand. I was able to manage though” he explained as he petted your hair, admiring how you were wearing his shirt like always.

“I-I missed you too” you stuttered out. Jackson smiled and you could feel his cock harden underneath you. You were hesitant to ask, “you’re not leaving again, are you?”

“No baby, I’ll be staying for a while. I deserve a break” he answered softly, his lips brushing over your ear.

You didn’t reply, but instead laid your head onto his shoulder. Jackson couldn’t help to have a smug look on his face by thinking of the progress your relationship has made. At first, you despised his touch. He had to take a bit of time off work just to break you down, train you. Christ, he didn’t expect you to have so much dignity and fight in you. Not that he thought that was a bad thing.

There was only one occasion where you almost managed to escape. You managed to slip out of your restraints and successfully unlocked the door just for the alarm to go off. You bolted for your life, but Jackson was quick to catch up. Typically, you tripped and rolled your ankle. Jackson made sure to drag you back to the house by your injured ankle. Where he tied you up tightly to the bed, stuck a vibrator in you and left you for over an hour. Afterwards, he fucked you and your overstimulated cunt a couple of times just to really remind you not to ever pull another stunt like that again.

When Jackson did have the trust in you to be left alone, he wasn't hesitant to threaten you by killing your whole family if you tried to hurt yourself whilst he was gone. Yeah, it was nice to think about how far you guys had come.

“Baby, show me how much you missed me” Jackson murmured as the sensation of you pressed against him.

You sluggishly lifted your head and leant in to kiss him. Jackson’s arms snaked around your back and he fell back onto the bed. Your hips humped his slowly and controlled. You were rolled over onto your back as Jackson began to unbutton his shirt.

“Tell me, did you miss me? Or my cock?” Jackson teased as he pulled off his shirt and threw it aside.

“Both” you sighed, gradually unbuttoning your own shirt.

“Oh, lucky us” he grinned as he pulled out his hard cock.

Jackson pulled off your shorts and panties with ease and aligned his cock to your entrance. He didn’t even have to consider spitting into his hand, he knew you were already dripping. With a stern push, he was inside of you. A harsh moan left your lips in the process.

“That’s a good girl” Jackson grunted as he went on to find his pacing, “taking my cock so well. God how I fucking missed you” he kissed your jaw.

You hated him. Every single thing about him, you despised. Mostly, you hated how you depended on him. Jackson Rippner was all that you had now, so you couldn’t even hate him anymore. Every breath you took was for him. Your life was his for the taking.

“Fuck” Jackson purred by your ear. “I can feel how much you missed me” he mumbled, your walls clenched against him in a rhythm.

Your legs wrapped around his snatched waist as he started pounding into you. Jackson was deeply groaning with his forehead pressed against yours, your hands pinned above your head by his. You started crying out when he hit your sensitive spot. So he kissed you to make you feel better.

“Can you finally see how I saved you?” Jackson smugly asked, his hands now on your hips. There will definitely be a bruise in the morning.

“Yes” you exhaled, your arms wrapped around his back, nails dug into his bare skin.

“Do you love me?” Jackson asked, slightly unsure if he even wanted to hear your answer.

“Yes” you breathed, he grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “I love you Jackson” you admitted, knowing it’s what he wanted to hear.

Jackson didn’t say it back, but it was clear he did, in his own little fucked up way. His smile was soft and hopeful. Unexpectedly, he came inside of you, a broken moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, I’m sorry baby. I just missed you so much” he apologised, slowly pumping himself inside of you, you moaned softly.

Aiming for your sweet spot, Jackson started pumping rapidly against you. You bit your lip as you quickly came undone around him, your walls pulsing against his sticky member. Laying defeated in the bed, Jackson pulled himself out and smiled at your mixed fluids on himself.

Jackson fell onto the bed next to you and pulled you into his arms. “You’ll never understand how happy I am to have decided not to kill you” he murmured by your ear as you laid in an unfazed state.

You looked up to him, “so am I”.

[evilminji]

You know how in Naruto, Sealing is a Finicky Art?

It's like computer coding, calligraphy, and symbolism had a super-powered/reality bending baby. You gotta think in VERY ADHD twirls and swirls too be any good at it. Which is why the Uzumaki rocked it so hard. But I digress.

Is Complexe AF.

Bends Reality and is EASY to fuck up.

Wanna bet? The BEST way to learn/use it? Is to copy already functioning examples? But Oh! How do you KNOW they are functioning? Safe? Well OBVIOUSLY, your Skilled At Seals teacher looks at it first! THEN gives it too you!

Using random seals you find in the dirt is how you get splattered across three different countryside in peices, after all. Possibly take out a nearly Town or two while your at it. No One Is THAT Dumb... RIGHT?

Enter Stage Right o/~☆ Humanity, Everybody! *polite, if strained, golf clapping*

They ABSOLUTELY Are!

Especially Ninja!

Ninja who, after fuckin MURDERING A WHOLE ASS VILLAGE OF SEALING MASTERS, decided to pick through the rubble! Because THAT is gonna work out GREAT! After all... it's not like you just KILLED the fuckers who could tell you what IS and IS NOT functional!

Was that once the "hazardous advanced class' sealing failures" bin? Or was it the "super awesome candy and rainbows" stash!? You don't know. NO ONE DOES NOW. You fuckin KILLED THE PEOPLE WHO DID.

They had their own REGIONAL Sealing Script.

You know, the one they taught to THEIR STUDENTS. Not outsiders. The students you KILLED, you absolute fuck nuggets. But hey! The threat of the Super Scary Sealing Masters is no more! Good job. You've successfully burned down the library. It can't hurt you ever again.

But NOW? You have piles upon piles of GIBBERISH.

You can only VAGUELY tell the novice seals from the master's. And even then? Do you have any idea what most of them DO? Nope. And after a certain point in training? The shaky, uncertain hand writing becomes smooth enough, that it all blends together in "Seals".

Now... what is the SMART thing to do?

Curse your hubris and the atrocities your fear allowed you to commit, obviously. But BEYOND that, Don't Touch Them. But we're Ninja. So WE are all suicidal idiots. The less smart but still Reasonably Precautionary thing to do? Study the amateur Seals. Learn Sealing from other masters.

Crack the Regional Script and slowly, painstakingly, work through each seal as we sort out what is and isn't safe. What can be salvaged. What can be used and how.

A process that will likely take years if not decades.

But of course, that's not GOOD ENOUGH for certain grabby handed, power hungry, short sighted, fuck weasels! No, no. It much EASIER to just throw human life into the blender until profit pops out! Completely IGNORING, of course, that SOME of these?

Could very well be the "Too Dangerous To Ever Use/Will Destroy Us All/Take Them All With Us" type of Seals that Kage usually LOCK UP. The kind you CAN'T destroy once you've made them, because the fall out would be WORSE. And?

Even if you are a murderous, middle management, go nowhere in your life, BASTARD of a ninja? Sometimes you can look down at the massive, intricately detailed, killer off nation's before you. Something that was WRAPPED in locks upon locks upon chains upon seals. And KNOW in your selfish, survival at all costs little heart... You DO NOT want anyone to fuck with this.

You CAN NOT let anyone fuck with this.

NO ONE can be allowed to touch it.

Not for ANYTHING.

You may fear S Class Kage and Missing Nin and what all else they may do to you. But THIS? Your eyes can't even properly FOCUS on it. It's like a tunnel that's lined with poetry, stretching all the way to the Earth's core. It's perfectly flat. It moves, a gentle rotation. But is that just your eyes, tricking you?

So much ink, it swallows the scroll, and this is when it's COMPRESSED.

How many nations?

How many NATIONS must this monstrosity span, when free?

It must have taken a Master decades, if not their entire life, to complete. Possibly a family, several generations. But... but gods it is a work of MADNESS. No wonder it was sealed. It speak, you... you THINK... of Death...

Of it's KING.

Something BEYOND the Shinigami. BEYOND Death and the Purelands.

Who the FUCK would try to summon something beyond GODS? Did they think they could control it? Chain it like the bijuu? You're so cold inside. Because you KNOW. You fucking KNOW, the ambitions and arrogance of those above you.

They'll think they can.

They won't listen.

You... you have to take this and RUN. You stand no chance. But no chance is better then oblivion. Anything is better then standing by and watching it happen.

You obviously don't make it. You never expected too. But at least... at least you won't have to watch whatever THAT is... arrive... fuck...

At least you TRIED.

And? Because leaf Ninja, specifically certain teams, have the MOST Shit luck imaginable? They arrive, having crossed paths with several other teams, on the way back home (yay! Warm food and real beds!) Just in time to see a desperate looking ninja from one of the small villages get fuckin pincushioned. Drop what is VERY clearly an Uzushio Scroll of considerable size and SEVERE SSS+ DO Not EVER Touch Grade Type Markings, and then some joining from that same village go to grab it.

Notice them.

You know... the multiple LEAF NINJA. Who TOO THIS DAY, wear the UZU swirl on their uniforms as a mourning tribute to the DEAR AND PRECIOUS ALLIES they could not save. The Uzushio Allies. Those ones. The ones that were, in fact, from Uzushio.

LIKE THE SCROLL YOU ARE HOLDING.

By the WAY! How DID you get that Scroll? Doesn't seem like something our dear friends would just HAND over, now does it? You didn't happen to LOOT THEIR FUCKIN GRAVES did you? Cause we sure would be MAD about that!

:)

Real Mad.

Dude obviously panics. Because that? That is a VERY pissed off bunch of Ninja, many in the bingo book, one of whom is Very Clearly throwing off BIJUU CHAKRA. And just said "my family's" Ha ha... Oh Shit that's an Uzumaki.

So he decides to USE THE SEAL.

What does it do?

He doesn't know! But it's probably SOMETHING big and impressive, right?

Yes. :) Yes it Does.

*Crack*

The SKY cracks. Like a pane of glass, struck by a hammer. Spiderwebbing as far as the eye can see above them, all from one central point, directly above the seal. The cracks there are concentrated. A point of impact. And through the cracks... something GREEN shines.

Brighter then the daylight around it, yet darker in color then the blue of the sky. Lazily whisping out like escaping mist. Time seems slow as their eyes all whip up wards. Even with senses beyond the normal human base, it is... inconceivable. SOMETHING winds back. They can not see it.

But they can feel it.

Like changing pressure as a storm rolls in.

*Crack!*

Green overtakes the blue. The sky a Kaleidescape of shards, held together by stubbornness alone. Reflecting a calm day that seems IMPOSSIBLE in the face of what's occurring. There should be wind. Great pressure changes in the face of so much FORCE, but the trees are eerily still.. utterly silent..

Nothing dares bring attention to itself.

Some distant part of their minds try to gather the thought that... that it could be an illusion. They... they should check. But they can FEEL it. Like a weight draped gently but without mercy upon their shoulders. It did not slam. But... but they can not move. Can barely breathe. It is beyond killing intent.

It is simply...

DEATH.

*CRASH!*

At last, the sky gives way. A fist, the size of towers punching through. It... it is almost elegant. A ring, almost in the shinigami's visage, wraps itself in a howling and snarled menace, around a great shining finger. A glove protects almost delicate looking, claw tipped fingers. The fist pulls back. Shard of sky falling, Floating, suspended in their moment of destruction, a glittering frame for the gapping wound that has overtaken everything.

Death...

Death has Green Eyes.

A crown of ice and starlight, pulled straight from the coldest north, hair that drifts like the drowned. His skin is that of a corpse. His breath a coldness that seems to suck all warmth from the world. There is no rage, no great irritation, his face merely twisted in slight annoyance. Mild displeasure.

And yet it feels like their greatest sin.

It BURNS.

They are ants. Less then ants. He... He LOOMS so TALL. The Green BURNS into their eyes, into their veins, chokes their lungs. The silence stretches. Those great eyes, the eyes of a GOD, move from them. To the man with the Seal.

He dies instantly.

Shit.

They... they need to... to...

Naruto wanders over and picks up the scroll, completely ignore the Giant Sky God Of Death and how all his friends are frozen in primordial fear. He roughly shakes the dirt off the delicate old relic, then squint at it. Figures he's holding it upside-down. Flipping it, he squints harder. Tilts his head and hums.

"Oh!"

He holds his hand up, turning to look at the terrifying Deity From Beyond Comprehension.

"It's me! I'm the Uzumaki! But, uh, I didn't actually summon you? Our stuff got stolen. Which really sucks!" He looks down again, brings the paper nearly to his nose trying to make out some thing. "Uuuuuh, huh. Got it! Can you get smaller? I don't got any BBQ or anything ON me right now, but Choji's Family makes REALLY good food! We can go out to eat? Ooh ooh! Maybe RAMEN! You like Ramen, right?!"

"Yep, Definitely one of Shouta's."

Rumbles The Actual Fucking King Of Death, shaking the trees and ground under your feet. As you probably stare at your fellow Leaf Nin like WTF.

"Sure, man. Give me a second."

And suddenly? He's leaning forward. Shrinking and twisting in ways that are painful to look at. The sky is... is not healing, so much as UNcracking. Rewinding itself to a pristine state. Until only a large, floating, armored God in black and white floats above you. Glowing.

One that... that is apparently FRIENDS with the Uzumaki Clan.

Because of course he is.

Naruto's introducing his Toads. And teammates. You almost feel bad for Hatake. But like? Better you then me, buddy. THEN? Death? Decides? For some inconceivable reason. "You know what? Im'ma just turn into a human WITH NO CHAKRA NETWORK. Reeeeeally freak out the locals."

And now Leaf is INCHARGE of entertaining A GOD until he decides to leave.

Or (presumably) Else.

And!! Because life loves to kick ninjas IN THE BALLS (for their stupid, STUPID life choices, YOU FUCKERS) it just HAD to be the One God? That can SEE DEAD PEOPLE. Because it's not like ninjas have Death Related Traumas or anything!

*internal ninja screaming*

Feed the guy some BBQ! Stat! Please Akimichi! Save us!

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

[thebibliosphere]

I saw your post about ingram, and out of curiosity, is there some advantage to going through the whole self-publishing thing with retailers when you're just starting out? like I mean the way that fandom zines work is that they don't even bother going through ingram or amazon or whatever. they just set up a social media site (usually twitter) to gain followers, open preorders (usually 1-2 months in length) to generate the costs of printing upfront, and then sell anywhere from a few dozen to several hundred copies of their books (usually artbooks, but anthologies exist too). I've seen some zines generate over a thousand orders. they're kind of like pop-up shops, except for books. maybe the sales numbers aren't so impressive to a real author, but the profit generated is typically waaaay more than the $75+ apparently needed for Ingram Spark, so I still feel like new authors could benefit from this method too, especially if they just need some start-up cash to eventually move to ingram if they want to for subsequent runs of their book. I think authors would also have to set aside some of the pre-order money to buy an ISBN number to have printed on their book, and I'm not really sure what other differences there are, but I just wanted to ask about it in case there's some huge disadvantage I'm missing!

So, popup zines work well for some people, and I know some authors who kickstart their work successfully. But for a lot, it's just not feasible as a long-term stratedy. Or even as a means to get off the ground.

Fanzines succeed primarily because an existing fanbase is willing and ready to throw money at something they love. They’ve got a favorite writer or artist they want to support. Supporting all the others is just a happy by-product. They also take a HUGE amount of short-term but intense planning that just doesn’t always jive with how some of us work.

I, for one, would never offer to organize a fanzine. I’ll take part in them as a creator, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than subject myself to wrangling that many people and dealing with the legal logistics.

When it comes to authors doing anthologies, it'svery much the same. The success of the funding often hinges on having other big-name authors involved whose existing fans will prop up the project. Or having a huge marketing budget.

Most self-pub authors have zero marketing budget. I’m one of them, and I’m under no illusions that my work would not be as popular and self-sustaining as it is if I didn’t have a large Tumblr blog.

When I thank Tumblr in my forewards, I am utterly sincere. Tumblr brought fandom levels of enthusiasm to an unknown work and broke the Amazon algorithm so hard, that Amazon thought I was bot sniping my way to multiple #1 spots and froze my sales rankings.

That’s not the norm. And while I could probably kickstart my own work as an indie creator, that’s because I’ve put literal decades into building up a readership. I’ve been doing this since I was 16 and realized people thought I was funny. I didn’t know what to do with it or if I’d ever actually write anything, but it meant the groundwork was already there (thank you, past-me). I basically fell upward into my success by virtue of never being able to shut the fuck up and wanting to make people laugh. Clown instincts too strong.

New or first-time authors trying to sell their work without that will find it infinitely harder.

All of that aside, even if an unknown author somehow gets lucky and manages to fund their work, there’s still the question of shipping and distribution logistics. Are you shipping everything yourself? Better hope you’re able-bodied and have the time for it. (for reference, it took me months to ship out 300 patreon hardbacks because of my disabilites. It damaged my back and hands. I couldn’t type for several weeks after I was done.)

Are you going to sell primarily at conventions? Better hope you’re able-bodied, have the time and don’t have cripling anxiety about being in large groups...

Also, will selling a dozen to a few thousand copies in one burst be sustainable in the long run as a career? Not for me. Doing things via Ingram and Amazon means I earn a steady trickle of sales for the rest of my life provided the platforms remain and so long as I keep working and can generate interest in the series, not just when I have funds to pay for physical copies to sell. The one-time (in theory) cost of $75 to distribute through Ingram gets paid off pretty quick that way. And it doesn't require the same logistics as doing the popup/crowdfund.

Ultimately, it comes down to what you are capable of but also the type of work you’re doing. If you’ve got an extended network of fellow creatives who will back you or you’ve got a large following elsewhere, doing it like a popup might work for you.

If you’re an exhausted burnout who can’t fathom the short but intense amount of organization that sort of thing requires, not to mention doing it over and over and over... Ehhhhh. No thank you.

[arachniee]

✰ The Arbiter of Justice.

Ex Situationship! Alastor x Female! Overlord Reader , Vox x Female! Overlord Reader, Lucifer x Female! Overlord Reader

₊˚✩彡 Summary: Famously known as hell's only demon that can break contracts between other sinners, you were very sought after by those who wish to free themselves from the wretched hands of their soul owners, much to the dismay (annoyance) of the other Overlords.

₊˚✩彡Notes: okay so, i know you're probably wondering why this came out faster than the parts of my other series, lets just say that i absolutely despised the first drafts i had and had to redo and edit some stuff again, but hey, here you go (this is not proofread, you have been warned)

╰⪼ “Those fuckers are back!”

Vox yelled, flailing his arms out with each syllable that left his petty mouth. Great. First, he found out that the radio demon was back from whatever hole in hell he's been hiding in for the last 7 years, and second, that bitch in the shadows made her appearance again after a whole decade! God, isn't his life just fucking great.

Valentino wanted to snicker, mock him because of his childishness. But he couldn't, for he too was not pleased with someone's return. Sure, he could live without Alastor, and yeah, he could live with the radio demon around. He didn't really care about him, it was only Vox who hated Alastor so much to obviously express it. But the Arbiter? Valentino would even thank any exorcist who manages to kill her. Though, he knew not to expect anything. Since the Vee’s have never really laid a scratch on her skin, no matter what they did. 

“I thought she was gone for good too.”

It's been almost 10 years since she left, leaving the Vee’s to assume (hope) that she'd never return and potentially ruin their status. Ever since her sudden disappearance, they've made it their goal to savour this experience, the feeling of making as many contracts as possible without the restraint from that wretched woman who was dubbed the “Arbiter”.

“Can’t this day get any fucking worse?!” 

Vox was fuming, it was very prominent. Of course he'd be angry, a threat has been posed to his business. With the Arbiter’s return, surely he'll lose most of his employees again! And that is NOT happening. And to add to his already boiling anger, the radio demon is back as well. He could feel the temperature of his screen almost overloading, if he doesn't calm down soon, he might even crack his screen. 

It was only a matter of time ‘til the word reached Velvette, and they were sure that she would also be displeased with the news. All these deals and contracts they made to build themselves up, climb the ranks, all of these may potentially be snatched away by the Arbiter again in a matter of time. They can't afford for that to happen, not now, not again, not ever.

“The upcoming Overlord meeting… Are you going to attend?”

Valentino asked, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for Vox’s answer. His question was hinting a very obvious thought, with the return of the radio demon and the arbiter, surely almost every Overlord will be present. No, the Arbiter has never really attended the meeting personally, but they always send a shadow in their place. That's the most interaction a person has with her, aside from those who manage to successfully summon her and make a contract with her for her services. So attending the Overlord meeting and speaking with the shadow would be their only way of communicating with her. That is the only way they'll be able to receive some sort of response. 

Even with how problematic the Arbiter is for them, little to none is known about her. Every person whom she freed from a contract will always do and say the same thing. Their finger pressing to their lips, a eerily soft smile, and a gentle voice that would speak the words;

“Sh, her shadow might hear you!”

Well, that didn't fill up with any context. It was the same actions and answer, no matter how many times a demon would ask them. Did the Arbiter do something to them? Did they say something? Regardless, it was really frustrating. Especially to those who wanted to gather information about her to bring her down. Ehem, the Vee’s, and maybe a few other Overlords.

───〃★

Ever since your disappearance, Alastor and his dear friends were quite bummed (more so than he'd like to admit). And maybe because of the fact that he may favor you more than the others, who knows? But the pain you unknowingly left in his heart was a feeling he could never forget. A feeling he can’t seem to get himself past. Petty, call it as you will. But the memory you engraved in his mind kept him up all night, every night. You consumed him and his thoughts, especially in his sleep.

Which is why he wanted nothing more than to never sleep again.

Despite him not wanting to acknowledge it, he liked you far more than the rest. And he hated himself for it. No matter how hard he tried to avoid any indication of your presence, you still bled into every crevice and corner of this shitty hell hole. Every corner that touched the light and casted shadows, all of it haunted him.

Everything was so similar to you.

So he left. For the longest time, he tried his very best to forget you, spending his time doing who knows what. It has already been 7 years, before he knew it. He knew it was conflicting, but a part of his wretched soul wondered. 

Would you be there on his return?

Most likely not. He hoped that you wouldn’t. But he also hoped to see you, even just once. A single glance at you would’ve made him crumble. The wall that he built to keep romance away, it’ll all come crashing down, without a doubt. 

“Alastor? What’s botherin’ you, dear?” 

A feminine voice cut through the thick tension in the room, a gentle hand resting on his shoulder. Ah, he almost forgot he was in his dear friend’s Emporium. Well, it wasn’t entirely his fault his thoughts wandered off, especially after seeing a picture with a familiar face on it. 

“Oh, worry not, Dear Rosie! Nothing a little work can’t handle!’

He assured her, that wide, signature smile of his visibly staring back at the woman. She mirrored it, though she seemed a little less hostile, even with her razor sharp teeth. She had been worried since Alastor left, of course, but what worried her more was how she’d often find him in a daze, seemingly unaware of everything around. Now, in hell, being unaware of your surroundings is the last thing you want. It’s not like she was doubting his strength and power, oh no. But she really can’t help it. She’s often the one taking care of everyone, so naturally, she wants to be there for him out of instinct. 

“Well, it certainly doesn’t look like it, Cerf.”

A husky voice piped in, peeking from behind the couch that Rosie and the radio demon sat on. Another figure, who seemingly appeared to be a more masculine version of the Cannibal District’s leader. Same pitch black eyes, pale skin and mop of greyish pink stands. Adorned with a rather lavish suit and a light colored fedora that contrasted Rosie’s more pinkish hat. 

“As sharp as always, I see you are!”

“Oh come on, pumpkin! We gotta give Alastor his own personal space, okay? If he doesn’t wanna talk about it then we won’t force him.” 

Rosie interrupted, glancing behind her to finally eye the person that the voice belonged to. The previous smile on her face seemed to grow, of course, why wouldn’t it? Looking at her younger brother has always been pleasing to her, especially since they look too much alike.

“I am well aware, my Rosa. Must you always treat me as an unknowing child?” 

Her younger brother sighed, momentarily closing his eyes and shaking his head left and right, his greyish pink locks swaying with each movement. 

“But my dear, it seems that you are!” 

The radio demon replied to his question. This was one of the ways Alastor tried, in hopes of forgetting you. Spending time with his dearest friends was something he cherished, especially with how much he saw that they genuinely cared for him. But it was a bittersweet feeling. 

How differently would things be if you were still here?

“Word has it that she has finally returned.” 

The same figure from behind the two seated Overlords exclaimed, tone now an octave lower and stirring with an unknowing emotion. Was he trying to be cautious? Or was he trying to not be insensitive towards Alastor’s feelings? Well, whatever the reason, this topic was bound to surface in their conversations anytime soon, so might as well talk about it now.

“My Riose, that is not something you must bring up so suddenly!” 

The said young man let out a huff of air, out of amusement or interest, not quite sure. Gosh, he certainly is still like a child in the two Overlords’ eyes. With a shrug, Riose decided to change the topic. Man, he was expecting to hear more stories about the Arbiter, but that can wait another time perhaps. Once the radio demon has fully moved on, he supposed. 

Alastor knew you were back, he has connections after all. But he hated how he hoped so much that you’d meet again, after all these years. But that was closer to impossible, to be honest. He’s accepted that fact, not fully, but he’s trying. Trying to move on, trying to forget you.

Though Riose had a feeling that he’d share this stuff with you and tell you about the shit the radio demon has been ranting to him and his sister, and unfortunately, you don’t know if you want to let Alastor go yet.

[itsmarsss]

Ruin [Marc Spector x fem!Reader] (Moon Knight)

It surely wasn't like him to invite someone over to his place, especially someone he barely even knew. It was dumb and reckless and-

Word count: 840

Warnings: sex is heavily implied and anticipation and sexual tension are through the roof. no real smut tho sorry it’s just a tiny lil’ scene. rare occurrence of me using third person (i dont vibe w it but this is kinda like marc’s pov so)

Marc felt like a hormonal teenager as he tried to unlock the door to the apartment with some fair difficulty, which could be blamed on his eagerness. Or his nervousness. Probably both.

His hand was slightly trembling and for fucks sake, if it weren't the only key Steven carried with him, he would have swore it was the wrong one.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, a stupid attempt to calm himself down.

How pathetic. What an embarrassment.

"Shit, sorry.”

She laughed at his frustration, but not the kind of laugh that silently calls you pathetic. Not a laugh that was aimed at him, Marc, the person, but at the situation.

"Are you sure this is your place?" She questioned, humor obvious in her words.

"Very funny." He finally managed to insert the key right, twisting it and successfully unlocking the door. "See?"

She put her hands up in surrender, and Marc found himself smiling at the action. How cut- pathetic. What the fuck was even going on with him tonight?

It's been a while. That's probably it.

He pushed the doorknob and opened the door to the place, turning the lights on before entering. She followed suit, closing the door behind her.

She stared at him for a bit, trying to think of what to do or say now that they were there. "Um so-“

"Are you nervous?" Marc asked. What he lacked in actual confidence he made up for by faking it.

"What? No I'm not." She was. He could feel it.

"You look nervous."

"I'm not," she insisted.

"Okay." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Then what is it you wanted to do?"

"Me? Last time I checked you're the one who wanted to bring me home."

"I can think of some things I wanna do."

She bit the inside of her cheek, debating with herself over where to go with this. The answer seemed to be ‘fuck it’. “Show me, then."

A glint of mischief made its way to Marc's eyes. He was enjoying this. Shit, they hadn't even done anything yet.

It surely wasn't like him to invite someone over to his place, especially someone he barely even knew. It was dumb and reckless and-

"So?" She challenged him when he didn't make any advances, too lost in thought.

"Shit," He murmured, suddenly too turned on by her attitude to care. He took his time taking a step forward and making the space between them impossibly small.

She actually grinned at him, a determined look on her features. Now that's just fucking begging him to touch her. And then he was sure he was done for. She didn't move, still leaving it for him to do so. Challenging him to.

And so he did.

Marc leaned forward, tilting his head a bit to the side and grabbing each side of her jaw with his hands, pulling her into such a feral kiss that it left her stunned.

"Wow. Okay," she exclaimed quietly after Marc pulled away for a second, both out of breath.

"That okay?"

"Are you serious?" She asked, because, holy shit, it was more than fucking okay. Before he could say anything in reply, she was pulling him down by the collar of his red button up and kissing him again, with the same eagerness as before.

He smirked into the kiss, content with the reaction he received, her hands still firmly holding a fistful of his shirt while his went to her waist, squeezing slightly.

She released his shirt in favor of running her right hand slowly over his chest.

Marc pulled away again, and she didn't even have time to utter a word before he was grabbing her hand. "Come ‘ere.”

She followed him to the desk in the middle of the place. If she got asked how many books you thought there were on it, she would have probably guessed about a million. That sounded about right.

Marc seemed to be pondering something as he looked at them. 'Aw, Steven will survive.'

With that thought, he didn't waste a single second more before clearing the desk, throwing everything that was on it to the floor in a swift motion.

"You didn't have to do that-" she began telling him, knowing that would be a pain in the ass to organize later.

"But I really wanted to."

"Shit." Shit, indeed.

With that, she let him help her up on the desk, occupying the space the books once did, her legs hanging in the air.

Marc's hands traveled to her thighs, the feeling of it making her shiver. He parted her legs slowly, situating his own body between them.

Things stayed like that for a few moments: Marc's hands heavy on her thighs, her hands on his biceps, eye contact unbroken, hungry looks in their eyes.

Marc made then and there a silent promise to himself to try his best to stay awake. He wanted to be there to see her ruined in the morning.

He failed.

A/N: don’t hate me for how short and uneventful it is it’s the opening scene from a fic im abandoning lol I’ll do some actual smut for them another time

[threepandas]

Since you don't mind, I'll explain the idea, isekai guy! the reader in one of the goals (hits from the moment of birth), a hothouse guy - a knight from a not very noble family, perhaps in one of the bad endings he dies, protecting the main character with his body ... romantic, right? but the MC does not think so, he is the only heir of the family, he needs to think about himself, and about his mother, and about his sisters (of which there are many, because his father had many concubines). If he dies, then they will all be in danger, because of this the MC decided not to pay attention to the saint - a commoner (MC of the game), and in order to look at girls at all, first you need to successfully marry off your beloved sisters, preferably to worthy men, and for this you need money. He loves all his sisters, his mother is the temporary head of the family (until the end of his studies) with the help of her son accepted the illegitimate children of her husband and is calmly waiting for the time when she can give control to her son (she is confident in him). Platonic! Yandere - this story is his mother, his sisters and his older sisters' husbands (his close friends), some of his sisters he bought out of brothels (it's clear where his father went) and helped them enter society, others he simply supported (girls in the Middle Ages, and they already have life and sugar, and they are also illegitimate children), and was the light. His brothers-in-law (his sisters' husbands) also care about him, since he helped many of them in difficult times in life and brought them together with their beloved spouses, but they are more in the background somewhere. And then the sisters find out about a coquette who seduced a prince, a duke and a magician (or rather, just started doing it), and suddenly began making eyes at their brother. They will not tolerate such a girl near their brother. How they will get rid of her, I will leave to your choice ...

Thank you for your attention. Have a nice day / night / evening

Ooooh this is a VERY good idea! Not sure I could do it justice with my lvl of skill to be honest? Cause it would take at least a few chapters to unfold.

Reader is def a Pillar of Strength. The "I'm going to try and do the right thing, because no one ELSE fucking will" sort? Who is pissed and heart sick at the treatment of his half sisters? Probably wants to bring his father back to life just to murder him himself.

Heck, he even has the concubines to worry about, assuming they were decent ladies. Those are his sister's MOMS. This is less a family and more a small LEGION. Noble blood or not, the house can only afford so much. ESPECIALLY after his father's fucking spending spree!

All HE really has is his body. His strength.

He can be a KNIGHT.

Try desperately to navigate the politics of having so many sister to marry off. Because? It's DEFINITELY making certain factions nervous? Marriages are ALLIANCES. They bind houses together!

Why are you trying to unit so many houses under your command, huh, boy? Up to something? Getting IDEAS???

No! No he is NOT! That and the constant background checks on the suitors. Education for the youngest. Education for HIMSELF. Because maybe if he marries some of his sister's abroad? There was a nice lord several nations over! But, shit, I don't speak that language! Guess I have to learn! Teach HER that language and the culture! Aaaaaaaah!

He?? Doesn't have TIME for romance! Are you KIDDING him?!

This is all ON TOP of managing the MESS of neglect his Family's lands have become! There are land disputes and bandits! Bridge inspections! Tax audits! YOU guys may be able to frolic around with the saintess, but HE is a Border Lord! His lands are both vital to the security of the county AND under his IMMEDIATE command!

Cannon Him was a negligent DUMBASS!

And? Obviously, he wouldn't be impressed by bloodline or wealth. Not for marriage prospects. He's not gonna SELL a family member just to make HIS life easier! Fuck that! We tighten the belt, sell a few ugly paintings, and ignore the sneers. We'll get through this. NO ONE is getting married to an abusive peice of shit on his watch.

So?

Second sons. Bastards. Those of poor birth but Great Ambition. Men who are BRILLIANT and SKILLED and ADORE their beautiful, magnificent, "how the FUCK did I get this lucky, every day is a dream" wives. Who turn around, WITH their beloved wife, and...

Want to Take Care of their poor, poor beleaguered Brother~♡.

The man who gave them THE WORLD. Who SUFFERS under the weight of it. Struggles and fights, exhausted, against an endless sea of FILTH trying to tear his family apart. Destroy him. When was the last time HE rested? Was taken care off? Relaxed? He tries so, so hard to protect THEM. They just... just want to be there for HIM, you know?

Be HIS support.

Have him turn around, relieved, smiling and say "oh thank goodness it's YOU! I can rest easy now, knowing YOU are here. I Needed You Here, You've Got This, I Trust You."

But then? THEN??? As his BELOVED family is gathering around? Preparing to... subtly... GENTLY, mind you! Maneuver him back towards home and out of all this STRESSFUL politics and gold gathering and general drudgery? That frilly little "Saintess", who does NOT seem terribly Holy if you ask them, sets her covetous eyes on THEIR dearest Brother/Brother-in-law/Son!

Don't Saints have TEMPLE Duties? Hmmmm? Unlike THEIR Brother, seems SOMEONE here has NEGLECTED their Duty! Holy my ASS. Have you even stepped FOOT in the Temple in the last DECADE? When did you last PRAY? Perform sacred rights? Cleansing rituals?

Besides! WE don't even FOLLOW those Gods! Yeah, didn't stop to ASK about that, DID YA?! No, you presumptuous *Censored!*! This country may have a STATE religion, but it doesn't enforce it upon others! Because it goes AGAINST said religion! We follow a local God from a different pantheon! *shouted theological rant by Sister number 6, the religious scholarly one.*

It'd be hilarious. One man's journey to take care of his family. That spirals WILDLY out of control with an endless serious of "oh... just one more thing..." and trying to find a SINGLE FUCKING DECENT MAN in the whole shit show of a country for his sister's to marry?

Only to accidentally?

Stumble upon "yandere" as the winning formula, not knowing it. They don't drink. Don't gamble. Would NEVER lay a hand on their beloved spouse. Are romantics and respectful, ambitious and want to make a good life for their family's. Extremely Loyal. Did he mention ADORE their spouses? Not JUST for their youthful beauty? No, no, for THEM. These guys will love them FOREVER.

It's perfect! *each red flag makes a whooshing noise as it sails merrily riiiight over his head* hmm? You hear something?

Unfortunately? Or fortunately, depending on the angle? They are IN to that! Freak to freak behavior! Yandere on Yandere marriages. WHOLE fuckin bloodline is probably cursed now. Rip everyone in THAT region. Cause that's a timebomb waiting to go off horrificly.

But not yet!

Right now? It's just interesting~☆

[stuckymonkey]

Hot But Not Bothered

Natasha Romanoff

Pairing - nat x autistic!reader

Summary - it's a very hot day at the compound, and nat is getting flustered by y/n's distaste for over-warm garments.

Warnings - use of y/n, implications of sexy times, reader has autism and too much confidence to care about the demons that are clothes, fingering, oral

Word Count - 1k

a/n - i love this ship, and i thought this was a fun idea! literally ended up turning into pure smut

masterlist natasha romanoff

Summers at the Avengers Compound could get a little heated, in more ways than one. Today was one of the hottest days of the year and an awful time for the AC to take a very unauthorized break.

I lounged around on me and Natasha's shared floor in barely any clothes. The feeling of warm clothes sticking to my skin no matter what was unbearable. I was breaking a sweat just from sitting on our usually comfortable couch.

No matter how much iced water I drank, or how many cold showers I tried to take, I could not cool down. I had drawn all of the curtains closed, making our living room nearly pitch black, save for the T.V that was currently playing.

"Baby, what do you want for dinner?" I heard her call from the kitchen. "Something cold!" I whined. Her footsteps could be heard as she made her way to where I was sitting, only in a pair of pajama shorts and floral mesh bra. "Hi," I made grabby hands at her, successfully getting her to sit on my lap. "Hi," she breathed, her face heating up in a blush.

She was wearing a black sports bra and capris, somehow. "How are you not dying in these?" I asked, tugging at her pants. She shrugged. Having autism was a gift. My grandmother had told me so and I believed her with my whole heart to this day. But it could also make things very difficult for me, like being warm and wearing clothes.

I had a very specific garment palette: baggy hoodies, jean shorts, leggings. The end. See how shirts aren't included there? I hate shirts with a passion, Nat knows this but it never stops her from getting flustered when I don't wear them.

"You know," I whispered to her, "I've seen every glorious inch of your naked body, and you've seen mine, so I don't know what has you all flustered, kitten." she preened at the name, grinding her hips on mine.

She gasped as she must have rubbed her clit the right way on the fabric of our pants. I grabbed a hold of her hips, stopping her movements. Her wide green eyes flew to mine. "Go make dinner kitten. We can play when you get back." She whined while I have her a wink. Reluctantly she got off of my lap, earning a small slap to her ass, making her moan as she went back to the kitchen.

Because it was dusk now, the air had cooled off and I threw on one of Natasha's old shirts. "Hi baby," she giggled as I placed kisses on her neck from behind. She turned around, leaving the counter to kiss my collarbone and rub my nipples through my shirt. "Natty," I grabbed her hands, once again halting her movements.

"Y/n/n," she whined. "Let me play," she said, smirking after licking her lips. I gently spun her back to the counter where she had ravioli cooking on the stove, one of my favourite comfort foods. "Pay attention to the food Natty." I said. Once I saw that the meal had her full attention, I swiftly pulled down her capris, exposing her bare cunt to me.

"Fuck, Nat." I ran my finger through her glistening folds. Her quickened breaths filled my ears as I kept teasing her entrance. "This all for me, kitten?" I asked. "Yes," she managed to get out, doing her best to focus on the stuffed noodles and keeping her knees from buckling.

"Good girl," I purred as I put one finger in. I felt her lean back on my hand, making the heel of it rub against her clit deliciously. She let out sinful groans as she kept tending to the food. I added another finger, moving it quicker as she started grinding and clenching on my fingers.

"You're almost there, aren't you kitten?" "Yes, please." she moaned into the light of the kitchen. I moved my mouth to her dripping folds, licking around where my fingers were buried inside of her, pumping quickly and curling to hit just the right spot. I sucked on her sensitive clit, getting "Oh"s and chants of "Yes, yes, yes!".

Before I knew it she was cumming on my face. I sucked at her cunt, devouring everything I could before straightening up and letting her taste herself on my lips.

We moaned together, moving our tongues in a dance. "Fuck," she said. "tastes good, doesn't it, kitten?" I asked. She hugged me closer and nodded. "I love you," I said, pecking her lips. "I love you too, dekta."

I filled both of our plates and helped her get comfortable on the couch, taking off my shorts and giving them to her, knowing she didn't appreciate being bare for long periods of time. I, on the other hand, loved it.

I loved this woman with my whole heart and I know she loves me too. The show we were watching soon finished, and I helped Nat set up a warm bath to soothe her muscles while I cleaned up the counter.

After cleaning up the dishes and putting the extra food in containers I joined Natasha in the bathroom. "You were such a good girl today" I whispered. She closed her eyes at the praise. I would have joined her but I knew my body couldn't handle the heat, or the task of drying off and feeling a towel against my skin.

Nat fell asleep in my arms, her skin still warm from the bath. Thankfully by then the AC was back on full blast and I could enjoy a comforting night with my best girl and the love of my life. Also the best thing I've ever tasted, but you get it.

[sunenjoyswriting]

Okay, so if I got the rules right.

Can I request Lilia trying to cook alongside the reader and, because reader has a soft spot for such a determined chef like Lilia, they let him.

BUT, somehow they make an actual good meal.

Gn for the reader and if you want, purely platonic.

This Bat-Man is trying his best okay?

The impossible has been achieved!?

Writers note: Anon I am so sorry this took so long. Procrastination and lack of motivation have gotten to me…

Possible warnings: Mentions of Lilia’s cooking/j. Reader isn’t Yuu (that was my plan at least idk how obvious it is)

Summary: Reader and Lilia cook together because reader has a soft spot for Lilia... Except, they actually manage to NOT burn down the Diasomnia kitchen!?

Lilia was infamous in the Diasomnia dorm for many things, one of said things being his... Definitely questionable cooking.

You, as someone who is somewhat of a competent cooker, has someone managed to take a soft spot for Lilia, and ends up trying to cook with him on more then one occasion. You've had to pay hundreds of thaumarks to repair the Diasomnia kitchen due to this.

Of course, you never learn apparently, because you're yet again attempting to cook with Lilia. (The rest of the dorm can only hope that it goes somewhat well...)

It was a simple meal - some scrambled eggs! Very simple, nobody can mess those up (excluding Lilia. He can manage to mess them up, probably.)

You were very careful to be detailed with your instructions, and were doing anything that Lilia could easily mess up (example: heating up the stove. We don't want another fire, now do we?), in hopes to avoid having to spend more thaumarks on repairs.

“So now you crack the eggs over the pan.” You instructed, keeping your eyes on Lilia to make sure that he doesn’t mess up such a simple act.

Thankfully, he didn’t fuck that up.

”Now, I’ll scramble them.” You said, grabbing the… whatever you use to scramble eggs because honestly I barely cook and don’t remember the names of any cooking utensils, and quickly scrambling the eggs.

Now all you had to do was wait for them to finish, and assure Lilia doesn't add any of his "secret ingredients" to the food and it'll be perfect...

So you did just that, and managed to get the scrambled eggs onto a plate WITHOUT any of the kitchen being charred black! Its a miracle!

You were finally able to make something with Lilia successfully, even if it were just scrambled eggs...

~ The End ~

…

Bonus:

Malleus: "... Are you sure Lilia helped you make this?"

Reader: "Yep! He did help me!"

Lilia: "I can confirm that~ I cracked the eggs!"

Silver: "... Sure, father, whatever you say."

(Does Silver actually call Lilia "father" in the game? Maybe! But if he doesn't, well, he does now!)

[ghouly-boiiiii]

The Snooze Olympics

Ghoulcy Week Day 3 - Somnophilia

I'm late, but here's my contribution to to Ghoulcy Week Day 3 - Somnophilia! I was not expecting to do this, but I couldn't think of anything clever for the Target Practice prompt, so here we are. 😜 This was definitely something new for me, but I have to say actually like how it turned out, heh heh. Hope you enjoy!

Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul

Tags: Consensual Somnophilia, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, One Shot, Challenge/Event

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3,599

No spoiler warning

No trigger warnings except sexy time with a zombie man and consensual somnophilia

Summary: Cooper and Lucy had been together for a while now. One thing the pair quickly realized about their relationship was that they were both kinda freaky. The Ghoul’s been fucking his way across the wasteland for over two-hundred years, and things had gotten a little boring. But Lucy, little miss goody-two-shoes, had this insatiable appetite to experience every imaginable way to fuck that could possibly exist. And that was never boring.

Cooper had asked her before if she would mind if he touched her while she slept. Her answer was simply, “I let you touch me while I’m awake, why wouldn’t I let you touch me while I’m asleep?”

When he proceeded to be more specific, she rolled her eyes at him and told him he was a weirdo, but that she wouldn’t mind. Then, somehow, it ended up becoming a discussion about a game they could play. One where they would each take turns trying to see how many times they can successfully get the other riled up in their sleep. It started out as kind of a joke, but became more and more serious as they carried on.

Now? It was a full on competition.

Cooper licked his bottom lip as he stared down at Lucy’s naked body. She was sound asleep, sprawled out on their bed without a care in the world. 

It was late, or rather early in the morning, in the city of Necropolis. One of the few places the old bounty hunter was welcome, and they were accepted as a couple. 

They'd managed to save up enough to purchase a small house on the outskirts of town. A bit nicer than the common shanty, thanks to The Ghoul's reputation. It was something the bounty hunter was never really interested in. Since he was always traveling, it didn't seem practical. But now, he had her. And it was nice to own a place where they could have a little peace and privacy now and then. And where she could keep all those weird little knick knacks she collected on their travels like she was building a fucking museum. It wasn't much, but it was home. 

It was a warm night, and she’d thrown the sheets off her, leaving her completely exposed. The former vault dweller was beautiful. Her delicate curves. Flowing dark hair that spilled over her shoulders and laid messily over her soft, perky breasts. Perfect face. She almost seemed to glow where the pale moonlight touched her bare skin.

As Cooper gazed at her, he realized just how unbelievably lucky he was to have her. It was painful, because every time he looked at her, looked at that bluish finger, remembered the fear in her eyes… he knew he didn’t deserve her. Why she would choose him over literally anyone else, he couldn’t understand. But here they were. 

It wouldn’t be unreasonable to say he was in love. A feeling he never thought he’d feel again. And it wasn’t just her beauty, of course. She was something else. Strong and brave and smart and quick witted, if a little weird. Who would have known, back then, just how well they would end up getting along, how much they would end up having in common, just how much they would end up meaning to each other.

He quietly stepped forward, admiring her while she slept. She was spread out with her arms above her head, which was turned to the side. Laying with one leg straight, and the opposite knee bent to her left. In this position, her labia was open just enough to see her pink little clitoris. 

The Ghoul licked his lips again and smirked as he tilted his head. He’d just gotten up to take a piss, but… upon returning, to be granted with this breathtaking sight, it stopped him in his tracks. His cock began to twitch and tingle as he stared at her, and he took a deep breath through narrow lips. 

Cooper had asked her before if she would mind if he touched her while she slept. Her answer was simply, “I let you touch me while I’m awake, why wouldn’t I let you touch me while I’m asleep?”

When he proceeded to be more specific, she rolled her eyes at him and told him he was a weirdo, but that she wouldn’t mind. Then, somehow, it ended up becoming a discussion about a game they could play. One where they would each take turns trying to see how many times they can successfully get the other riled up in their sleep. It started out as kind of a joke, but became more and more serious as they carried on. 

Now? It was a full on competition. 

One thing the pair quickly realized about their relationship was that they were both kinda freaky. The Ghoul’s been fucking his way across the wasteland for over two-hundred years, and things had gotten a little boring. But Lucy, little miss goody-two-shoes, had this insatiable appetite to experience every imaginable way to fuck that could possibly exist. And that was never boring.

Saying they liked to try new things was an understatement. Their sex life had quickly developed into a scorching hot primal frenzy, and had continued to escalate in ways he was shocked a normal human could handle. It’s really a wonder they had time for anything else. And one of them wasn’t dead.

He grit his teeth together and looked up at her face. Lucky for him, Lucy tended to be a remarkably heavy sleeper. She could sleep through just about anything. Must come from living down in those vaults where you get to feel safe, he thought. And aren’t always listening for the next thing that’s going to jump out of the dark and kill you in the middle of the night. 

Also, they had a few beers earlier, which knocked her out even more. Especially since she was such a lightweight. 

All that, coupled with the conveniently accessible pose she’d decided to sport, he found himself with a grand opportunity. 

The Ghoul, with his growing cock, crept closer and leaned over the bed. That was another thing he had on her. He knew how to be quiet and avoid attracting attention. In fact, it wasn’t really a fair competition at all. She was so noisy and clumsy, and he was a light sleeper. He typically wakes up fairly soon after she starts. At least, that’s how it seemed. In fact, he’s pretended to be asleep for longer than he actually was just so she could feel like she’s in the running, but the amount of times he’s messed with her for a full half an hour, for her to wake up screaming and clawing at his bald head. 

Let’s just say, they both enjoyed it. 

He kept coming closer until he was just at the foot, then quietly made his way around to his side as he calculated his plan of attack. Her exposed clitoris was calling to him, shining like a pink little gem through the darkness. 

The Ghoul leaned down and slowly crawled onto his stomach, horizontally across the bed, positioning himself next to her hip. The leg next to him was the one outstretched, and the other, bent away from him. 

He looked down, his mouth now just above her inviting pussy, and looked up at her one more time. With her still sound asleep, he brought his attention back to the task at hand. He bit his lip and sucked on it a moment in anticipation, then stuck his tongue out and leaned in.

The bounty hunter tasted her, ever so lightly. Keeping his tongue soft, not tense, he gently brushed it down her clitoral hood, then back up. Carefully and steadily, he continued to move his tongue from side to side, up and down her clit, until her breath started to increase. 

He stopped for a moment and looked up at her. The expression on her face made her look like she was concerned.

That’s how he could tell it was working.

Cooper lowered his head again and used his lips to open up the labial folds just a little more. Just enough for him to get his mouth around her clitoris, and gently begin to suck. 

There was an art to this sort of thing. You had to be careful not to get too excited and move too fast. Any sudden movements could get you busted. You had to go very slowly. Make the lightest of contact. All in order to minimize the chance of the subconscious mind perceiving you as a threat and alerting the brain to wake up.

“Nnn…” She whimpered lightly. 

And so it begins. He wondered if she was dreaming. Dreaming of him? Maybe. But more likely it’s something odd, like… being abducted by aliens or… trying to hump a talking tree… As she had told him before. Her dreams got weird.

He began to lightly stroke her clit with his tongue again as he carefully moved his hand over her leg. His cock was throbbing, but he had to ignore it. If he started pleasuring himself, he wouldn’t be able to focus. He took a moment to wet a finger with his mouth, then found her vagina and slowly slipped it inside.

The Ghoul took a deep breath, which shook just slightly as he felt the intense heat around his finger. She was so wet already, which made it easier. Slowly, he slid the finger in and out and began to suck on her clit again. 

She squirmed a little and let out a sleepy groan. He paused a moment to see if she was waking, but she peacefully went back to sleep, lightly sighing as she turned her head the other direction.

They both had agreed, should one of them get to full on intercourse while the other was asleep, it was game over. One-hundred points. Not that the points mattered. But truly, it would be a feat. And she was so damn drunk last night, he thought he might actually have a chance, if he played his cards right. He doubted it, but he was gonna try. 

But first, he had to prepare her a little more. 

Cooper decided to give her clit a break, so she didn’t get too excited, and slid in a second finger. He gently spread them apart, stretching her to make room for his cock. The bounty hunter licked his lips as he looked up at her beautiful figure. While he did find this hot and kinky, he definitely preferred it when he could hear her moaning and writhing. He almost wanted her to wake up. Every time he did this, he couldn’t wait for the moment her eyes shot open and she started screaming out of surprise and pleasure. It never got old. And she never seemed to get bored of it either.

He paused and bit his lip, and decided he was ready. He just had to figure out how to position himself in a way that wouldn’t wake her, starting by moving her leg.

The bounty hunter carefully lifted himself up off the bed and went back to the foot, where he could easily climb between her legs. Before he did so, he reached down, taking her ankle with one hand and her knee in the other, and gently bent it to the side, spreading her leg out to mirror the other one. 

Now her pussy was fully exposed, glistening in the moonlight. He couldn’t help himself. He had to taste her one more time. He leaned over and crawled on his stomach, then dipped his head down, running his tongue up and down the length between her lips, drinking her dripping fluids like nectar. 

“Hahh…” As he pulled away, he let out a needy exhale. His cock was throbbing and leaking and he couldn’t help but rub against the sheets a little. But he had to maintain control. He was so close to the finish line. He’d be damned if he let a little thing like a raging boner get in the way of his ultimate victory. 

Carefully, he pushed himself up with his strong arms, and slowly crawled over her, being careful not to touch her and to disturb the mattress as little as possible. Looking down, he was able to position himself so that the head of his cock was right at the entrance to her pussy.

He looked up and watched her closely. Still sleeping, perfect and gorgeous, with her hair messily in her face, and just a little bit of drool dripping out of her mouth. 

Cooper bit down on his tongue. She was always so horrified when she woke up and found out she was drooling. He didn’t mind, though. He thought it was cute, the way she got so flustered about it, and it always made him laugh. But he couldn’t laugh now. He was on an important mission.

With an intense focus, he watched her face for any sign of stirring as he moved his hips forward and pressed the head of his cock against her vagina. He bit down on his lips when he felt the slight resistance, then exhaled as she took him in and he slowly slid inside.

Cooper grinned and had to hold back his laughter, cackling in his head. He did it! Son of a bitch did it. He was deep inside her and she was still fast asleep. Just wait until she gets a load of this, he thought. She’s going to be SO pissed. 

Now, the only question is, how long could he go before she finally did wake up? He was sure all the rocking and fucking would wake her. If not, well, he might start to be a little concerned. But he was sure she just had too much to drink. And also, his mad skills. 

So the bounty hunter started slowly and smoothly moving his hips, gently sliding his cock in and out of her, not all the way, just about half. He parted his lips as he started to breathe heavily. She felt so fucking good, and he could feel his cock throbbing and pulsing inside her. It took all his self control not to pound into her, and the restraint made him shake and tremble. He desperately wanted her to wake up, but he also relished this challenge and wouldn’t be satisfied unless he took it as far as it could go.

Could he make her come in her sleep, he wondered?

She started to squirm and lightly moan, her brow furrowed and her lips pursed in a look of confusion. “Ohhh…” She sighed. “Mmmm…”  

The Ghoul bit his lip and sucked on it in thought. He needed to get to her clit, but holding himself up with one arm would be difficult. If he could get his legs under hers, that would make it easier. 

Slowly, he moved his legs, one at a time, to the side and in front of him, carefully tucking them under hers. Once he was successfully on his knees with her legs hooked around him, he had to stop himself again from chuckling. The sly dog was getting too good at this. Now with his knees to support him, he sat up, his cock still half-inside, and looked down. 

He tilted his head at the sight of her wet lips stretched around his cock, both their genitals twitching slightly against each other. Licking his bottom teeth, he let out a shaky breath as his eyes fell on where the lips came together. Her now erect clit had swelled and gone from a soft pink, to a light cherry red. He knew it would take both if he was going to get her to orgasm before she woke, or at least as she was waking.

If he could accomplish that, he thought, he could officially give himself the title of ‘Master Fuck Machine’. He could see Lucy rolling her eyes now. 

Cooper licked his thumb to add a little extra lube, then brought it down and began to lightly stroke her clit downwards. Once he got the rhythm, he started moving his hips at the same time. Brushing his thumb down as he pushed his cock in. 

He swallowed hard and opened his mouth, nearly sticking out his tongue as he took heavy breaths. God, this was so hot. And she wasn’t even awake to enjoy it with him. If only he could find a way to film this and show her. He wondered if she would find it hot. He bet anything she would. 

Christ, he wanted her to wake up so bad. How the fuck was she still asleep?

Finally, she started to stir a bit, her brow furrowed hard as she moved her head to the other side again, letting out a groan. “Ohhh…” 

“Ohh… Lucy…” He whispered softly, then bit his lip, trying not to moan himself. 

“Mmmm… hohh…” She moaned as she started to squirm even more. Her whole body started to move, hands coming down to her sides and gripping into the sheets as she tried to pull herself somewhere. Her legs began to stir, moving up and down as she let out a shaky gasp and pressed her head back against the pillow. “Hah! Oh, God!”

Cooper’s lips curved up into a toothy grin. This was it. Moment of truth. 

“Ahh!” Her eyes shot open suddenly and she looked down at him with her mouth open wide. “Cooper!”

The Ghoul let out the loud, triumphant laugh he’d been holding in. “Good mornin', my Queen.” He purred in a deep, sexy tone.

She gasped hard and threw her head back again. “Motherfucker!” 

He ran his tongue over his bottom teeth as he laughed again. “What's the matta'? You want me da' stop?”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop!” Lucy yelled breathlessly. She turned her head back down and started clawing at his shoulders and squeezed her legs around him. “Oh my God, I’m gonna come!”

If Cooper could grin any wider, he would. No use holding back anymore. He grabbed her legs and lifted them up, then leaned over her and started thrusting into her. “Like that, baby?” 

“Oh! Fuck! Yes! Yes!” She gasped and moaned so loud, he wondered if the neighbors could hear. It didn’t matter. He didn’t fucking care. And they were probably used to it by now, anyway.

He let out his own moans as well, and it became a veritable pre-orgasm symphony as they both whimpered and cursed and groaned in ecstasy. 

“Ghhaahh…!” Finally, Lucy let out a raspy scream as her head flew back, then she scratched at his shoulders and her body began to tremble.

The Ghoul grit his teeth as he felt her muscles suddenly close in, squeezing his cock and quivering all around him with each contraction of her climax. He wanted to come too, but not yet. He knew she wasn’t done. It was quite common for her to need at least three orgasms to be satisfied. Sometimes four. Sometimes five. Sometimes fourteen. She was a beast, this one. A horny, freaky, sexy beast. And definitely gave him a run for his money. 

He continued to pump into her, despite the resistance and the fact that her pussy was squeezing so hard it was almost painful. He brought his thumb back down and started swirling it over her clit, and that earned him even louder moans. She spread her legs wider and pushed her hips towards him, thrusting a bit herself as well, until she cried out and came again. 

“Ohh! Cooper! Cooper!!”

“Fuck yeah, Lucy.” He hissed as he shuddered, trying to hold himself back from bursting.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” She cried out with his thrusts. “One more… One more!”

“Come with you?”

“Yes! Yes, come with me! Hohh...”

The Ghoul bore down, and leaned in close to her, putting his weight on the arm that was holding him up and gripping the sheets in his hand. He started to thrust, deep and hard into her, at a faster, but steady pace as he continued to rub her clit. “Oh, fuck baby…” He breathed as he felt himself getting close to the edge. All it would take was one more…

“Gyahhh!!” Lucy screamed as she threw her head back one more time. Her whole body tensed and she shuttered over and over. 

As her sopping wet pussy bit down on him again, squeezing the life out of his rock-hard cock, he released into her. “Ahh… fuck!” His penis twitched and throbbed and pulsed as it spilled gush after gush of cum into her. And his whole body followed suit, quivering and trembling as he closed his eyes and tilted his head up. Clenching his teeth and breathing in through them, he gripped her hips as he desperately and shakily continued to thrust into her, momentarily losing control.

The two of them soon paused in unison, their bodies tense and quivering, as they clung onto each other and savored the quaking ripples of their shared orgasm. Letting out whimpers and groans with each escaped breath until their bodies started to relax.

Cooper let out a sigh before he opened his eyes and looked down at his lover, who was smiling up at him with tired eyes as she caught her breath.

“You bastard.” Lucy said with a grin.

He grinned back and let out a breathless laugh. “Seems to me you enjoyed that.”

“Hmm… it was good.” She admitted, then rested her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes. “But you’re still a bastard.”

“Hundred points.”

“Pfft…” She snickered. “Whatever.”

“Champion.” 

“We'll see, we'll see." She said with a shrug.

“Master Fuck Machine.”

She let out a light cackle, “Okay, mister fuck machine.” and lightly slapped his leg as she looked up at him. “Get the fuck outta here.”

“Master.” He corrected. “With an ‘A’.” 

Lucy laughed again. “Okay, MASTER fuck machine. I’m hungry.”

Every time. It never failed. Especially after an orgasm like that. She always had to eat afterwards.

“Whatchu want, Darlin’?”

“Is it breakfast time yet?”

“Could be. Want me to cook?”

“Would you?”

“Anythang for you, Queen.” He leaned down and they shared a passionate kiss before he started to move off the bed. 

“I’ll stay here and plot my revenge.” She said with a playful smile, resting her hands behind her head. 

“Good luck with that. You’ve got a hard act to follow.” He snickered.

“Pssh…” She scoffed and threw a pillow at him. “Cocky bastard.”

“Damn right, I am.” He said with a grin as he caught it.

She laid back, and started to brush her hair out of her face, then stopped in horror when she felt the wet streak on her cheek. “Oh my GOD! Was I drooling the whole time!?”

“Yes, babe. Yes, you were.”

The End

[melanated-writersblock]

OMGP Prologue

For those of you that actually appreciate some sort of plot😩🍸

For as long as you’ve known him, Toji Fushiguro has never been one to back down from a challenge. He’s always going out of his way to prove you wrong and it only got more frequent after you two got together. So when you made a passing joke about how Toji wouldn’t be able to survive the infamous No Nut November, he took that shit to heart.

And the challenge was set.

But it’s not like he was just doing it for the sake of novelty, there was a reward. You and Toji made a pact that if he completed No Nut November SUCCESSFULLY, then when the clock stuck 12 midnight on December 1st, he could have you. Whenever he wanted. However he wanted. You offered up more days, in case he’d need breaks. But he insisted, saying he only needed one. And when you two shook on it, Toji smiled, because he knew he’d win.

The month was long, and obviously it was a pain not being able to touch him and him touch you. The sexual tension that radiated off of the both of you when lounging in opposite sides of your apartment felt stronger than any cursed energy a sorcerer could possibly harness. It was almost concerning. Finally, November 30th came.

2:30 PM.

There was a certain…peace…that fell over the apartment, all day. You knew Toji was around, because you could hear his footsteps and movements when he went to do stuff….but it seemed like he was purposely avoiding you. Matter of fact, you KNEW he was avoiding you!

7:45 PM.

You were in the kitchen making dinner and needed something from an overhead cabinet above the stove, and SOMEONE decided to conveniently place it further back than you could manage. Toji watched you from the living room couch as you bent over the stove slightly, reaching as far back into the cabinet as you could for garlic salt that genuinely shouldn’t have been there. He studied the way the hem of your shorts rode up your ass cheeks and got caught between your thighs. He wanted to be between them so badly. He NEEDED to. He wanted to see you struggle for a bit, before he could put you out of your misery. At least in the only way that was allowed, for now. “Stop, before you hurt yourself. I got it.” You hadn’t even processed that Toji was already behind you when he leaned over you to grab the seasoning salt. Oh god he was so close. He smelled good, he FELT good, big and firm, like he’d gotten impossibly stronger or something. It made you wonder how many poor sorcerers had to suffer because of this silly little bet. His abs pressed against the folds of your clothed back, and maybe you were just that feral, but you swore on your soul you could feel his hardness right against your ass. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes…unless you were ready to throw your 30 day streak down the fucking drain. He knew what he was doing to you, and he enjoyed that it was working. Toji handed the spice to you, smiling to himself before walking off. You finally stopped holding your breath, and went back to cooking.

9:26PM.

Time was tormenting you both. You took your 2nd cold shower of the day and it didn’t help a damn thing. Toji flipped through channels to try to distract himself from even looking in the direction of the bathroom in your shared bedroom.

10:32 PM.

Toji poured a glass of water in the kitchen, and you watched from behind your phone screen on the couch as he drank, and droplets of water trickled down his chin…down his neck…down to his fitted SavagexFenty shirt that you actually regret buying for him right about now. This man had the actual BALLS to LOOK AT YOU while this was happening. Your eyes stayed locked on each other while he came back to sit on the other couch across the room. He was almost at the finish line.

11: 45 PM.

You laid in bed, dozing off. You decided to turn in after you felt like the tension between you and Toji started to die down. In and out of sleep, your eyes lazily swayed between the clock on your nightstand and the cracked bedroom door where faint light from the living room TV reflected on it. Everything was so peaceful that you hadn’t even noticed your clock inching towards 11:58 PM. You close your eyes for a mere few seconds, opening them to see Toji removing his shirt as he walks through the bedroom door tossing it off to the side as he walks towards you, undoing his sweatpants with a devilish smile.

It’s officially midnight. December 1st is here. And you’re in for a long day.

December 1st

[mekanikaltrifle]

Equinox: Sick Dogs

In which the vampire hunter meets with a friend, to explore his latest hunt; a death in a High Street shopfront gone unnoticed by the bustling public, and a forgotten stray afflicted with some unknown curse...

CHAPTER ONE

Fifteen nights. Fifteen nights, but thirteen days, I’ve been tracking this one bloodsucker.

I need a better job. This blows.

I throw the dictaphone onto my couch. Stupid piece of plastic-- probably should capitalise the ‘D’ in that, since it’s a brand name, or refer to it as its generic name but that’s the sort of shit I do not have the patience for these days. Or nights? Anyway, the thing is stupid, but it helps me keep my thoughts in order, and doesn’t need a ‘net connection to function unlike far too many things these days. Or nights.

So, the bloodsucker. I’ll get you up to speed with it, order of business and all that. Shop talk. The whole razzle dazzle, so to speak.

I know vampires well enough. Blood-drinking immortal bastards, move under cover of night, come with a bunch of weird abilities and superhuman traits. Most of ‘em look like monsters too, as far as I’ve seen. Bat-like ears, animal teeth, claws, grey skin, weird off smell, the whole kit and caboodle y’know? On the regular they’re also pretty low-key, so people like me don’t find them, and so that humans at large don’t know they’re around. Take it from me, it’s easier to hunt when nobody can see you, and nobody’s expecting you either.

Thing is, the low-key approach means it’s usually the fuck-ups that get spotted by monster hunters. The ones that kill are the ones that get caught, eventually. Being immortal doesn’t make you immune to consequences, nor are you above retaliation. Especially when the shit you’re doing with your immortality is killing folks who already have it rough, and you even take the chance to survive off of them? Fuck vampires, is all I can say in short.

So how did I find this job?

I started tracking this one from what looked like a failed hunt. Found a young man lying against a shopfront window with a chunk ripped out of his neck. He wasn’t conscious, but for a few minutes he was still alive, and after kicking in the glass door and setting off the alarm, I did what I could to staunch the blood. Tried to call the ambulance as well, but I have issues with phone lines. And speaking to people. Forgive me if I don’t go into that right now.

There were people nearby. It was right on the high street, for fuck’s sake. He shouldn’t have been ignored, but there were just people walking by like nothing was happening, as if I hadn’t just kicked a door out, loudly, and sprinted into a locked shop with the alarms blaring off. But the high street punters just kept right on going for their late in the day Christmas shopping as if I wasn’t holding a dying man in my arms. It was surreal. I’m no stranger to weirdness, but the worst part was that even after I hit 999 and dialled up help (however troublesome) the ambulance didn’t even come. I sat there waiting, even after there was nothing left to save, and nobody came to help. It was like he and I didn’t exist. I could hear the operator on the other end asking if there was anyone there, and I didn’t answer because I couldn’t, but eventually she barked something down the line and it went dead. Only when what I guess was the store’s manager came to check the alarms, did I get up and leave the dead young man to what would come next. Blended into the dark in the back of the shop and fucking legged it out the lorry bay before anyone could notice me. Easy enough, but that’s besides the point.

I kept thinking about how open and callous that was. And clumsy. Most vampires I’ve ever tracked from hunts either only manage to kill someone once or twice before we track them down… or are subtle enough to successfully hunt over the long term. They don’t take so much their victim dies. Back-alley muggings and late night cold calls, break-ins and nightclub pulls of dubious consent. That’s usually what vampires rely on. Only way they get through the nights, and since most are confined to the hours after sunset, it’s also far easier to prey on the people nobody thinks about after closing time.

But I was running, and thinking. I do my best thinking sitting down, but this work doesn’t come with breaks when there’s someone just off to the beyond.

The poor lad, he’d been wearing a shitty polyester work shirt, and had a sticking plaster over his finger. The shop itself is the sort of place that sells screws and work tools and power drills and stuff, nothing special. This was also probably why it was closed a bit earlier than the other shops; they are running their late-opening hours for Christmas shoppers, but who’s buying tools late on? I think he’d been cashing up for the end of day. I wonder if he’d had someone waiting for him at home? A mum or a dad, or a boyfriend? Or girlfriend, I suppose? He looked at most twenty-five, but probably a good bit younger than that. Maybe younger than me? Whoever he was, I didn’t find a name-badge and he was never conscious enough to say anything. He was round-faced and scruffy looking, and sort of boyish. Charming, I hoped. Not sure about personality but he died quietly. Something tells me that wasn’t fair on him.

I’d have already had a lot to think about if I didn’t bump into anything else that night.

I still had a lot of blood on my hands, and it was drying. Sometimes I forget to clean it up promptly; nobody was gonna see me and I’m only human, but this definitely got me attention I didn’t need.

So I turn into a back street behind the shopping arcade-- you’d know the one, used to lead onto the BHS before that apparently closed?-- and was greeted with the second ugly sight of the late-afternoon. As of right now I’m not entirely sure what the thing was, but it certainly wasn’t someone’s fluffy puppy lost on the street. It was four-legged, sure, but its coat was a ragged black mess with some sort of nasty stuff dripping off it. It had a head in the same place a dog should have, though its skull was the wrong shape, studded with these awful white embers for eyes and entirely bare in places, so I could see the bones under bits of scabby ligament. Only thing that didn’t look rotten were its teeth-- all of those were sturdy, sharp and very much in its head. It couldn’t snarl without much soft tissue on its face but it certainly managed to growl.

It noticed me before I saw it too clearly, which I’m going to put in the ‘rookie mistake’ category and be thankful I came out alive. The blood let me down, I’m sure. The thing moved strangely; one minute it was shuffling about unsteady on its feet, and then the next it lunged with a force completely impossible from its shambles of a body. I took the force through my left arm and shoulder- knew it’d bruise straight away- and twisted so it rolled off to the cobbles behind me. Two seconds at most to myself before it got its footing and leapt again, but I managed to duck so it went right over my head, though I caught a scabby paw to the back of my coat. Not the worst thing it’s been soaked in at least, but the weight of a whole dog-monster using me as a springboard wasn’t pleasant.

When it landed in front of me was when I got the good clear look at it like I mentioned a minute ago. Something like that couldn’t be allowed to walk out into the street and attack someone, I knew, but it didn’t look like it really knew it wasn’t meant to be here. Some monsters seem to know they’re wrong, that they shouldn’t be, and it makes them aggressive or devious or confrontational. They taunt you with their impossible natures and they want you to hunt them. Sort of a sick validation, maybe. But creatures like this? They don’t know what they are or why, nor what put them directly in the path of humans or hunters. I would have thought it was totally unintelligent until it looked me in the eye… and whined.

Don’t ask me how I could tell the little burning point of light it had instead of an eye was actively looking me in the eye back. Hopefully you don’t have to meet a monster face-on and work these things out yourself. This is why I tell you stories, no?

It didn’t know a fuckin’ thing, besides sadness. Couldn’t hate something like that, so I crouched down in front of it. The beast didn’t come nearer, but it didn’t attack me either. I think it’d been scared or hungry or something and that’s why it lunged at me? When I got down to its level and held my hand out, it didn’t snap or lunge again, but it did growl. Warning, I think. It reminded me of a neighbour’s upset ‘guard’ dog from my childhood. Before I moved back to England, I lived in a really shitty suburb of Paris, in an arrondissement you’ll never see on a tourist guide, and one of my neighbours had this awful dog. Not even sure what it was, but one night it must have gotten a visit from someone else’s pet and next thing we knew, one dog was six and the puppies were the saddest looking things I’d seen before or since. I remember asking mum or dad if we could try and get one of them, but mum hated dogs and dad was allergic, besides. Clearly didn’t trust me when I said I could look after it in my room, where they didn’t have to go near. Maybe I never forgot the look on their hairy mutt faces as they wandered about the yard at the back, digging pointless holes to nowhere and crying.

The scabby dog-monster went flat to the floor, which I think was fear or deferral or something. Submission? I didn’t want to scare it anymore, so I took my hand away from it and that seemed to do the trick. I was having trouble reading its body language without any ears or facial structures besides teeth, but a minute or so of sitting quietly and not moving too fast meant it calmed down a bit. Maybe its decaying body couldn’t keep up too long, and it did seem to be in pain. Again, not sure how I could tell for sure, but it lay down on the wet floor and whimpered, the poor thing. I think it was tired. Me too, I recall thinking.

It couldn’t close its eyes, but once it was quiet enough, I did my best to put it down with my handgun. It was over pretty fast. That’s the other thing with monsters you’ll never know ‘til you fight them... some just die so easily you wonder how they survived long enough to try to eat you.

I tried to put its body out of sight, because unlike vampires it wasn’t going to just start crumbling to bone and ash right away, and I didn’t want anyone finding it ‘til it wasn’t clear what it had been other than once a dog. Two pointless deaths in one afternoon. I wish I could have said that was a record, but thankfully it’s not every day that happens. Just maybe once every couple weeks.

So, I was now covered in fresh, drying human blood, as well as dirt and indistinguishable monster fluids. Great start to my evening. I ducked into a public bathroom to clean myself off as best I could, and I have never been more thankful for my weird abilities, because the way I looked was awful. I don’t think I smelled much better either. While I was standing there washing my hands, I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that I was walking into something- metaphorically, of course- and while I know that’s probably mental illness giving me these ‘tips’… I also have other senses.

I should tell you about them in better detail later, but for now, just believe me when I say I’m better attuned to weirdness and mortal danger than a regular out-of-the-box human being comes as standard. If nothing else, I’m here and explaining things to you that don’t sound real, but they’re more detailed than a random story I made up to scare you, right?

Well, next time I fight a particularly fragrant monster I’ll skip the shower before I come and see you, and then you’ll know what’s up. Maybe I’ll even bring some blood with me, to seal the deal.

Anyway, I watched the flakes of half-rehydrated blood wash down the sink as a guy pissed far too loudly in one of the urinals across the room and I could just feel this strange weight sinking over my skin, even under my clothes. It was like a pressure from the air sinking down on me, like swimming in shallow water right at the edge of a sea shelf… I could feel the depths below.

I’m not sure what it meant, but moments later I looked up into the mirror and I could see shapes in the negative, film negatives overlaid on the glass. Someone running through a hallway made of big heavy stones. Stumbling into the floor as beasts leapt from the dark- or the white, in this inverted scene- and they tore into the person’s legs and arms all violence and snarling. It looked old, far too old to have been filmed. Fantasy-like, it was that old. I didn’t want to watch another death straight away, so I looked away for a few minutes. The loud pisser thought to shake off his business but didn’t bother washing his hands. When I looked back at the mirror, it was frozen and waiting for me to keep watching.

Someone wanted me to see this, for some reason.

The scene ended as expected, with the poor soul being torn to pieces in a level of detail even I didn’t want to know about. In the end, it was just a body, being eaten by hounds. I’m not sure what it was meant to mean. Was it a threat? The mirror was just a mirror, a couple of blinks later and the pressure lifted a little off my skin. Not entirely, mind, but it didn’t feel actively pressing on me anymore. Why was I having to bear witness to this now, after all the other stuff I’d dealt with that day? Shit happening one-after-the-other isn’t news to me in the slightest, but I can still complain.

There was no doubt about it, there was probably a connection, but I have to say I couldn’t make some Holmesian deduction then and there. What I did do was go outside and sit on a concrete wall and think for a bit. Stare into the sky until the last of the light soaked away into the black and the stars presumably came out, deep behind the cover of grey-slate clouds. It being around Christmas, I think that probably put the time at somewhere around 4 or 5pm, but things that move under cover of night will take any night time cover regardless of how early it lands. Christmas doesn’t mean a thing to the supernatural, as far as I’m aware. Doesn’t really mean shit to me either, come to think of it. Nobody to spend it with, regardless, so why bother even if I was Christian inclined?

Oh, don’t give me that look.

So, I came to the conclusion that I was going to have to head back to my safehouse and clean up properly so I could document what was going on. Next steps in the plan were as follows: sleep, get dressed up a bit and then head to the couple clubs I’d found vamps in before to try and gather a bit more information. Oh, and eat probably. In whatever order made sense, and right now I’m fairly certain I ate before I went out but… not sure it matters at this point.

Strangest thing is that things have been pretty quiet since I had the three-for-one deal on vampire bullshit. Well, no, I tell a bit of a lie: there’s a couple of developments I made or came across in the two-ish weeks since that poor boy died, but I think I need to go and research a few things in my books before I tell you more about what happened next. I’d hardly be a good storyteller if I didn’t fill you in with the most accurate info I could, right?

I don’t think I’ll have made any progress on this all by tomorrow but do keep in touch, and I’ll ring you if anything weird comes up. You’re the only soul I’m trusting with all this, and really the only one that’d remember to come back anyway.

Have a quiet night, my friend.

[coffeeshades]

gif: @avasillva

WHEN YOU'RE LOST IN THE DARKNESS

Part I. Craving Humanity

a/n: this is just a little something i came up with after watching ep 2. i don't know how many parts it will have but i do plan on making several chapters. even tho this first chapter it's really short i do intend on making the next ones much longer. this like an intro kinda thing. this is loosely based on hbo's the last of us.

summary: after many years of being alone without purpose and avoiding any kind of heartbreak, marlene sends you off to look after her cargo, not knowing it would lead you into an unexpected adventure with two unlikely allies.  

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 526

warnings: angst. death. cussing. age gap. no smut (yet). let me know if i missed anything. read at your own risk, etc.

"Let's go," You said, "We have to go before it gets dark." You continued, fearful of what you might run into.

Joel doesn’t move. He doesn’t say a word. Hell, you don't even think he’s breathing at this point. He's just standing there, watching everything burn. But considering what just happened, you don't believe it's much of an exaggeration, really. The smoke is choking the air, and the flames are climbing higher and higher. The events that had taken place just moments before this silent moment were almost too much for you to comprehend.

"Come on, Texas, I know it hurts, but let's—" he cuts you off before you finish. "Be quiet," he says angrily, "You don't know what you're talking about; you don’t fucking know what loss is."

Joel Miller has known you for less than 48 hours, and yet he’s right. You don't have anything or anyone to miss from your past life. You don't know what loss is. However, the man standing in front of you has clearly had his fair share of losses.

You don't take his bitter words too seriously, considering the circumstances. When Ellie questioned his relationship with Tess earlier, he didn't say much about it. In fact, he said nothing about it. He completely shut her off. But you assume, given the little you saw before everything turned to shit, that Tess meant a lot to him and he just lost her in the worst way possible. You couldn't begin to understand the extent of his frustration. You were not the type to delve into emotional complexities, and so you felt that in this moment, there was no need for you to try and understand his pain.

"Uh, hey guys" Ellie says, breaking your trance, "So, which way do we go now?"

Joel looks at you with murderous eyes, as if you were the one who murdered Tess, and moves forward, with you and Ellie following. Okay, no more talking. Got It. The only sounds you hear are the rustling of leaves and the crunching of a few twigs beneath your feet as you walk in silence.

You felt somewhat guilty that you couldn't empathize with him. But at the same time, you felt a pang of relief; you had never been in that kind of situation. The kind of situation where you lose someone you cared for. You've successfully managed to go on all these years without getting attached to anyone or anything, just like before the outbreak. No one cared for you either. Even though you were grateful for it, you couldn't help but wonder sometimes whether it was because you hadn't met the right person or because you were simply unable to feel that way with anyone.

You tried to push the feelings of guilt out of your mind, instead focusing on the road ahead and trying to come up with a plan. A plan that included getting Ellie somewhere safe—after all, she was the key to everything. Now it was you, a moody teenager, and a bitter old man you barely knew (and who clearly hated you) against the world. What could possibly go wrong?

[autisticlancemcclain]

Shiro’s voice grates on his ears.

It’s not a fair thing to say. It’s not even Shiro’s fault. It’s just – they’ve been planning this mission for weeks. Day after day, briefing after briefing, it feels like the only thing they’ve talked about is this stupid fucking mission. And Keith gets it, really. If they manage this successfully, that’s thousands of weapons that Zarkon won’t have, that they’ll no longer have to fight.

But they’ve been talking in circles forever. There are holes in the plan, and everyone knows it, but they’re exhausted and burnt out and no one can come up with anything better, so they have to take what few ideas and resources they have and pray for the best, because hope simply won’t cut it anymore.

Keith suits up as quickly as possible, riding the zipline to his lion in stony silence. He almost feels like it would be more appropriate to walk – it feels as if he’s rapidly approaching his death; the team’s death. The inherent joy and fun of the zipline feels wrong, but it would take too long to walk.

The comms crackle to life as soon as Keith is settled in the pilot’s chair, everyone’s colour-coded communication line buzzing in one by one. Keith watches them, burning the bright colours into his memory. He’s terrified to lose them.

“Hey, Mullet.”

It’s of course Lance who speaks first, opening a private channel between them. Keith doesn’t respond for a moment, and Lance doesn’t press. He hums, something quick and bright, just letting Keith know he’s there. Keith takes a deep breath, forcing his hands to stop shaking.

“Yeah, Lance.”

It’s Lance’s turn to be quiet for a moment, even the humming and ever-present tapping of his fingers stopping.

“We’re going to be fine, you know.”

Keith swallows. “I know.”

“I mean it. All of us. We’re going to work the plan until it falls apart, because it always does –” Keith snorts, because somehow Lance has managed to make that into a joke, a tease, when just seconds ago the very thought sent waves of panic through his head – “and we are going to flawlessly ad-lib our way out of shenanigans, as we always do. We are going to be fine.”

Lance leaves no room for argument. He very rarely does, and lately that has been making Keith smile. Lance’s surety has become comforting, his self-confidence a breath of relief in the ocean of uncertainty and fear they all seem to be drowning in all the time.

But still. The risks.

“But Pidge is almost completely undefended –”

“She’ll be fine. She could kill God with her bare hands if she was mad enough.”

“Hunk is going through the east wing alone –”

“Um, alone with his grenade launcher, you mean. He’s fine.”

“There are just – there are so many risks, Lance.”

Keith can’t see him. It’s only an audio call. But he can imagine Lance’s face softening, the corner of his mouth twitching the way it always does when he wants to gather someone up in a tight hug but isn’t sure if he’s allowed.

“Pidge and Hunk will be fine, Keith. We’ll all be fine. We’ll kick some Empire ass and get out, and then you and I can go punch those jitters away, okay?”

Keith is still worried. The fear still races through his veins.

But Lance is right. As usual. (Not that Keith will ever tell him that.)

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

As they approach the massive planet-turned-weapons-factory, Pidge’s cloaking device on in each of their lions, Keith tries to borrow Lance’s faith. His unwavering belief in the team, in their impending success, even when the odds are stacked intensely against them. Lance trusts each of them so strongly.

Keith takes a deep breath, and decides he will have faith, too.

– – –

next chapter

[nurgletwh]

*pokes head up*

*sees the world still exists*

Huh. Look at that.

On a more serious note, having essentially dropped off the face of the earth from the perspective of almost everyone who's following me here or my works on AO3, I am alive. This was not in any great danger of changing any more than the normal (one can always get hit by a bus, for example), but it turns out I haven't been well.

My first clues probably should have been long before I found myself sleeping eighteen hours a day for 'no damn good reason,' but since there were also some extremely difficult and terrifying weeks at work and the stress that goes with it, it crept up on me.

Unlike previous times I've disappeared, it wasn't related to my mental health this time. Not that it's any better, really, because it turns out that my diabetes was creeping out of control. I wasn't monitoring the way I should have been, and I missed a doctor's appointment without rescheduling (which is terrible when you have ADHD, because fucking remembering to call someone to reschedule is damn near impossible).

Anyhow.

It turns out that chronic high blood sugar makes a person feel all sorts of crappy in vague and indistinct ways that, in and of themselves, don't really trigger a sense of 'something is wrong, I should see a doctor.' It just leaves me feeling 'bleah' and 'ugh' and unable to do anything but sleep when I stop moving.

I am so far behind on anything and everything fun. I owe everyone who has a pending comment on my works a deep and heartfelt apology. I didn't mean to disappear. I know several of you have been worried, and it turns out at least semi-rightfully so. Not that there was much any of you could do about it, which really just makes it feel worse. I apologize for any stress and worry this may have caused. I can't promise to never do it again, unfortunately, because I am:

a) human b) a human with ADHD, and c) a human who is horrible at keeping up with communication the way she should.

I want to do better; I will try to do better. I have actually managed to continue writing, albeit at an exceptionally reduced rate. That's picked up markedly in the last week or so now that my meds have been adjusted. Hopefully, it continues to pick up. However, I don't think things are quite where they need to be based on my personal blood sugar testing, but it's a strong improvement. I still don't have much energy, but when I get home after work and sit down, I only sleep for forty-five minutes to an hour, not four followed by crawling into bed for the night and still not feeling rested in the morning.

I hope to start working my way through my inbox on AO3. If you're following me here and see this before I get to your comment, hi! ♥ Know that I have read them all and they give me sparks of joy to think about, but I have been very emphatically squashing any guilt at my non-response for now. Feeling guilty is a potent anti-motivator for someone with ADHD. It makes a growing mountain that I can run away from like an Olympic sprinter, which means that the only way I will successfully get back on track is to not feel guilty or compelled, which is the opposite of how it works for many folk.

I also seem to have gotten into some fucked-up screwy mindset where my brain is telling me I have to have something ready to post (or nearly so) before I can answer comments now. Which is just... wrong. So very, very wrong. I'm working on that, too. Blood sugar fixing first, however.

Take care, everyone. I've definitely been thinking about all of you and have seriously missed having the conversations and speculations that go with successfully generating writing but also require successfully responding to comments. It's been a seriously sucky couple of months; here's hoping things improve.

♥