#but if you become part of a collective like that you lose yourself completely

[funnywormz]

im gonna be honest. if star trek was real i would probably go find my nearest borg cube and get assimilated lol. obv the borg suck bc they force assimilation without consent but still......... something abt the concept of being asssimilated is so oddly compelling to me it's like a siren song......... i kinda want to be borg............. i can't even begin to wonder what implications this has abt my psychological state LMAO 😐😐😐

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 6: Where…?

The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?

Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…

You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.

The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.

After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.

You’ve always been such a stupid girl.

After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.

You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.

You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.

It’s cute.

Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.

A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”

“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”

“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.

You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”

Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”

“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.

“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”

You nod.

“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”

You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.

“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.

“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.

You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.

“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.

“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.

“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.

“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.

You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”

The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.

You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”

“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.

“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.

You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”

“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“

“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.

Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.

You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.

You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”

“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’

You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.

“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.

John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”

You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”

John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.

“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.

Bonus:

“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”

“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.

“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.

You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.

The three of you fit together so well…

John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.

“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.

Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.

Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…

He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.

“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.

Simon just grunts.

“She’s good for you.”

“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.

To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!

Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am

[muffinpink02]

please share your unholy thoughts about that Alexia white top picture pls. don’t hold back. pls. pls.

Smut 18

My thoughts? 

Like how it would feel to run your thumbs over her perky nipples, while you straddle her lap? 

Smiling to yourself as she tries to hold back a throaty moan, but it still easily escapes her mouth. You know her nipples are sensitive, you know she loses her mind just by the simplest touch on the small, but very sensitive buds. 

Alexia's nipples are her kryptonite. 

The blonde can barely speak when you're touching them. You know she gets embarrassingly wet, when you’re anywhere near them. 

Biting them.

Sucking them.

Pinching them.

Flicking them.

Kissing them.

Clamping them.

You know she’s trying not to let it get to her as you gently pinch her flesh through the thin fabric, but her large hands squeezing your hips tell a different story. 

“Fuck!” She gasps into your mouth as you feel her nipples strain against the fabric, under the tips of your nimble fingers.

It was a blur really, she was only showing you what she was going to wear in the tunnel before the game. 

You took one look at her, then you were on her. 

Alexia’s nipples were also your kryptonite. 

You slipped your hands under the tiny vest, gliding your short nails against her hard stomach as you always did. Loving the way her hips rocked up into your core. 

Her moaning became loud. 

You trailed your kisses down to her neck, kissing the vein that lived on the left side of her throat. You didn’t know what it was about the body part that turned you on so much, maybe because it came out when she was nervous, or excited or angry, or the way it stained against her skin when she was above you, fucking you from an inch of your life.

Or they way it pulsated when you were your three fingers deep inside her, your lips wrapped around her clit, watching her head fling back as she came undone under your touch. But whatever it was, you had to have your mouth on it. 

You pussy throbbed as you felt the artery pump against your tongue, you couldn’t stop yourself as you sucked roughly on her flesh. You smiled wickedly at the way her breath quickened as she felt your tongue glide up her long vein, kissing her skin as you felt her pulse quicken against your lips. 

You push the fabric up, exposing the rose coloured buds. You slowly move your kisses down from her throat to her chest. You don’t wait around, you suck the left bud into your mouth, you can't help the groan that escapes your mouth as you feel the flesh against your tongue.

“Hmmm, please!” She begs as her eyes shut, a small cute frown creases between her brows. 

You’re not sure what she’s begging for, but you don’t stop, you swirl your tongue around the tight bud. You can feel the small bumps of her areole as you tease your tongue against her, it makes your mouth water. Your taste buds dribble like you have your favourite meal in your mouth. 

Your hand cups her other breast, squeezing it as you suckle the strained nipple in your warm mouth.Her hips are moving harder against you, it’s almost hard to keep yourself on her. Her moans become louder, she’s completely losing herself to you as her body thrusts below you. 

Alexia’s losing her wits. It’s so fucking cute and so fucking hot they way she whimpers, the way her hips are grinding hard into you, but you ignore the heat between your own legs. You just want to feel her, you want her just like this, at your complete mercy, it was the only time the girl lost all control.

You pull back, biting the flesh just hard enough to make her cry out. 

“Amor!” She squeaks, her hips never stop moving, one of her hands moves from your waist and into your hair, wanting to have some control, but it's pitiful really, she doesn't have any control right now. The normally composed, calm and collected blonde is an utter mess beneath you. Her small gasps and whimpers are flooding your brain, she almost sounds like she's going to come as her chest rises 

“You’re so desperate baby.” You whisper, blowing cold air to her wet swollen nipple.

She's withering under you, she can’t even think straight let alone compose a snarky reply to your comment. She is desperate, her body can't help but surrender to your touches. She tries to reply but it just comes out to a low grunt. She can feel her arousal ruining her underwear, becoming so uncomfortably wet as you break her apart.

You move to her other breast, you slowly glide your tongue over the perk, she tries to push you closer, but you don’t move. Instead you give the sensitive bud a gentle kiss, then spit on it. 

“Fuck, si, si. M'encanta, quan fas això, amor.” She gasps as her hips pick up a relentless pace. 

You chuckle against her spit covered nipple, taking it into your mouth, lathering and suckling on it like she was your lifeline. You're losing your own composure, Alexia’s hips are thrusting so hard, it makes you bite a little harder than you meant to, making the girl tug at your hair, but she only moans louder. 

You groan at the pain, but it only makes you suck harder. You're grinding your own hips into her now, you're like two excited teenages dry humping for the first time, both lost in the other's touch. The loud pleasured moans that drip from her mouth, the filthy sounds of you sucking and slurping at her flesh bounce off the walls.

“Bebé.” She groans as you graze your teeth against her, her bottom lip comes between her teeth as her breathing starts to pick up. You watched as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She looks so fucking good but surely she can’t be close?

No? She can't be? Not just from this? Those are the tell-tell signs that you know all too well. She's going to come. 

“You going to come for me baby?” You mumble with her nipple still in your mouth.

She nods, her hazel eyes finally catching yours. You take the opportunity to spit on her chest again, letting her see the way you clean her back up. 

“Merda!” Her head falls back, her vein pulsates against her skin as her hips brutally thrash against you. 

You suck and bite the rosy bud into your mouth, never taking your eyes off of the girl above you, your free hand rolling the other nipple between your fingers, just the way you know she likes, not too hard, not too soft. 

And she's coming undone.

“Fuck!” The girl lets out a deep moan as you keep her in your mouth, the hand in your hair pushes you against her chest, not wanting you to leave her and of course you don’t dare move. 

Alexia’s cunt throbs against nothing, it's almost painful the way her clit cries out for stimulation but still manages to let her body orgasm at the touch of her nipples being played with. 

“Oh déu meu, oh déu meu!” She breathes out as her climax rushes over her body. 

You keep suckling, gently letting your tongue sweep over her. The hand in your hair loosens as her hips come to a slow stop. You gently pull back, releasing her nipple with a loud wet pop of your swollen lips.

You smile proudly, watching as Alexia catches her breath. You can't believe you just made her come, you hadn't even slipped your hand between her legs. 

Her hazel eyes finally lock with yours, the moment of bliss finally starts to mix with a realisation of her very quick, very easy orgasm.

“I’m that good hmm?” You tease as you bring your lips to hers.

“Don’t tease me!” She whines between kisses.

There was no way you would ever let her live this down.

[randomshyperson]

Heal - Scarlet!Wanda x Vampire!Reader - Kinktober #08

Summary: By freeing an imprisoned immortal from the Darkhold Castle, the Scarlet Witch did not expect to gain a friend who would help her heal the woman she tried to bury in the temple's wreckage. In return, Wanda might help you face the demons from your past that were locked away with you.

Warnings: (+18), service!top reader, praising, intimate smut, blood-feeding, vampire and witchcraft lore, and a lot of plot, implied depression and self-harming tendencies, really soft smut with explicit consent, mutual pining, friends to lovers | Words: 9.671k

A/N-> My only vampire reference is TVD, so expect many similarities to the show’s lore. And I repeat again that there is a sinful lack of stories that deal with the status of wizarding royalty of which Wanda is part. Please, she literally has the title of Queen of Chaos, her family has inherited the magic of chaos for generations, we need to talk about this. I hope you guys like this one, this story ended up having more depth than I expected and it was quite fun to write it.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

After destroying a thousand-year-old castle and not getting out of the impact zone, Wanda definitely didn't expect comfort. In addition to the pain of recent events, from realizing that she had finally become a villain, and was closer to the people who had destroyed her life than to the friends she once lost, she also had to see the clear fear in the alternative versions of the children she missed. So she put an end to it all, more tired than anything, and waited for the pain to go away. The blackout from the impact put an end to it, of course, and just like years before when she turned to dust after losing the only person she still had left, she breathed a sigh of relief into the darkness.

But Wanda woke up. And to her complete surprise, comfort came in the softest sheets she had ever felt, perhaps even more comforting than the expensive cloth Tony Stark had once bought for the rooms in Avengers Tower. The bed she was lying on could easily have been mistaken for royalty, and Wanda barely had time to become alert before a slightly unfamiliar face entered her field of vision.

"You." She gasped in surprise, her voice a little hoarse. Now conscious, she was aware of the pain around her body, but she could also feel her magic doing the hard work and taking the sensation away. You smiled gently and, without leaving your sitting position on her bed, waited for her to adjust to the mattress. Wanda frowned. "But why?"

You sighed, shrugging slightly. Now sitting up, Wanda realized that your lap wasn't empty. A breakfast tray was waiting for her as if you were aware that she would wake up soon and had brought the food just in time. The item was leisurely placed next to her, but Wanda continued to look at you, waiting for an explanation as to why someone who had disappeared almost the second after the first meet, reappeared to save her from the wreckage of her mistakes.

"I know you're confused, but please eat. You've slept for days, miss." It's your comment, but the witch shakes her head.

"Don't worry about it. It's... nowhere near the longest I've gone without food." The quiet confession about the period of darkhold abuse makes you sigh sadly, and Wanda feels a curiosity rise in her chest. You don't know her, so why do you care? 

Your hands move to the toast you've prepared for her, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she finally notices the tray with your movements. Your breakfast choices are just right - delicious foods stare back at her. And you busy yourself with adding some jam to the toast that makes Wanda's mouth water.

"Forgive me for taking so long to find you, I was a bit overwhelmed upon returning after so long." You then declare, handing back the now-filled toast to one of the smaller plates. You push the item towards her as an invitation, but Wanda glares at you.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

Your eyes are kind in her direction. "I owe you my freedom."

Wanda chuckles short and incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't even know what I was doing." She retorts immediately. "I saved you by accident, you don't owe me anything."

But you gesture to the food, and Wanda sighs in defeat, finally giving in. At the first bite, she feels the delicious jam on her tongue and sighs in satisfaction. It's amazing, she lets you know. You smile.

"It doesn't matter if our meeting was accidental, Wanda Maximoff." You state. "Your magic broke me out of my prison. If the idea of a debt doesn't please you, we can act as if upon rescuing you, I made us even."

Wanda hums with her mouth full, slightly distracted by the food. You look away, waiting for a moment, and she finishes chewing before speaking again.

"I didn't want to be rescued."

"I know."

She looks at you again, but you continue to stare straight ahead into the room. "Do you?"

You smile briefly. "Nobody who wants to live knocks down a castle on their head, miss."

The chuckle that escapes her is short, but it's the first sincere one in a long time. It's so dark, to joke about something so serious, yet she feels completely at ease doing it with you.

Wanda finishes another piece of toast before speaking again. "Do you remember the sorcerer who was with me before, when I freed you?" You meet her gaze, nodding in agreement. Wanda looks at you curiously. "He nearly shit his pants when he saw you running away from the temple. He tried to lecture me about it, and I dragged him out of there for it. But the point is... what did you do? He only told me your name. What was so terrible that your escape scared him so much?"

You sigh, getting up. Wanda imagines that she has offended you by asking and that you will leave without telling her the whole truth, and considers spying on your mind to find that out, but you just walk to the nearest drawers on the other side of the bedroom. When you return with an object in hand, Wanda wipes away the toast crumbs before accepting the item you hand her.

The old photograph makes her eyes widen. "Holy shit." She sighs impressed, getting a short laugh out of you.  Your picture wasn't a surprise, but the date from over three hundred years ago faded by the bottom. Wanda flipped the item to see the back, but your name there didn’t really explain how you were standing in front of her, as if no time had passed.

"Humans call us Vampires, but I've always liked the sound of Immortal better. Of course, the term vampire beats being called a demon or a bloodsucker." Wanda doesn't laugh at the joke, as she raises wide eyes in surprise at you. She continues to hold up the photograph, and you swallow. "I promise I won't try to harm you." Finally, she chuckles softly. You sigh in reassurance, even though the witch has just mocked your strength.

"I can't believe vampires exist." 

"Said the witch who traveled through the multiverse a few days ago." Wanda smiles, handing the photograph back to you. 

"Fair point." She murmurs. Restless, you wonder what you can do to improve her mood. She seems so sad.

Perhaps your stories could distract her. 

"I was imprisoned in Darkhold Castle a few centuries ago." You tell her, attracting her curiosity again. Your hands go into your pockets so that you can regain some ground over the full attention of such beautiful and mesmerizing irises. "There are other mystical authorities, apart from Kamar-Taj and its mages. In particular, a council of vampires. I disagreed with some traditions and was sentenced to imprisonment, but my capture was not quiet. Let's just say I earned that tomb you rescued me from, Miss." Wanda nodded in understanding, offering a small smile that ensured she wasn't judging you. It would be comical to do so, after everything that had led up to this moment. Adding to the count of her own crimes, she apparently unleashed an immortal mass murderer.

Wanda looks around, sighing softly. "I presume this place is yours."

You nod but look away from her. "Many of my properties were lost with my imprisonment. Taken back by the Council, or even stolen by other creatures. I'll deal with these usurpers later." The comment made Wanda bite the corner of her mouth. She'd never seen a vampire fight, and you seemed so sure of your own strength over anyone who stood up to you. It was attractive somehow. She pushed the thought away faster than it came. "Of course, you're welcome to stay as long as you need, even if I'm not around."

The statement makes Wanda chuckle in surprise, her cheeks slightly warm. "What? I can’t accept that. I will certainly not abuse hospitality-"

"Don't be ridiculous." You repeat her previous words with an easy smile, and the casual comment sounds different from your formal attitude so far that It's so charming that Wanda has to look away awkwardly, surprised by her own perceptions. "It's a pleasure to have you as a guest. And honestly, it's nice to have someone around after so long." The sincere confession makes her smile. Wanda understood loneliness well. You sigh. "There's enough room in this house. You can stay as long as you need."

Wanda nods. "How exactly did you get me here? And where is here exactly?"

"Northern Europe, but I'm not sure if the country's name remained the same as it was three centuries ago. And I didn't want to carry you so far from the castle, and I figured you didn't intend to return to Nepal and their Kamar Taj’s mages as well."

Wanda grimaces. "What do you mean with ‘carry me’?"

You chuckle slightly. "You were unconscious, Miss Maximoff. And buried under rubble when I found you. We don't have the same magical abilities,  so I can’t use the power of the mind to move objects or people. I picked you up, and brought you with me."

She needs to see this, and the invasion in your mind caught you off guard. Flashes of memories turn clear in your head, your figure pushing rocks out of the way until you find Wanda unconscious. You actually picked her up in your arms and started moving. At some point, you found a car, but good kilometers on the ice at high speed were walked.

Wanda leaves your mind with a sigh, and for the first time, you look upset.

"Please ask next time."

She's still coming to terms with the fact that you ran through the snow with her in your arms to apologize. "You walked half a continent for me?"

You shrug. "I ran, to be fair. Don't worry about that, it wasn't any trouble. My kind has enough strength and speed for a journey like that."

But the ease didn't detract from the significance of the attitude. Wanda could hardly remember the last time anyone had done anything for her - not even Vision, who was her partner, seemed to share any guilt when signing accords that wanted her in jail; And now a stranger was rescuing her at the end of the world just to bring her to safety, without expecting anything in return.

Her silence makes you clear your throat. "I'll give you some privacy. There's more food if you want it, and this is a suite, so the toilet is through that door. I've also taken the liberty of ordering clothes in your size while you’ve been asleep, they're all in the closet. The whole property can be explored, please feel free to do so. There’s a library and art rooms. And please, if you decide to leave, say farewell first."

Wanda smiles tenderly at your request, and you turn away. She finally realizes that you look very tidy, and calls out to you before you can leave the room.

"Are you going out?"

"Just for a few hours." You answer, frowning at the way her expression falls. "Is something wrong?"

Wanda sighs. "I just… don’t wanna be alone."

Despite the sympathy in your eyes, you hesitate. A hand on the doorframe. "Forgive me, miss, I promise I won't be long and that we can spend the rest of the day together." 

Wanda waves your concern away, starting to stand up. "Relax, I'll be fine, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your appointments. I'll explore the house while you're gone."

But despite her casual attitude, you call out to her with a certain seriousness that makes Wanda look at you again. There's something in your expression that makes it clear that you didn't buy Wanda's act at all, and that you can clearly see that she was being serious about her loneliness. Your eyes had a guilty aspect because you couldn't stay. 

You sigh, looking away as you explain: "I must feed myself, Miss Maximoff. Please don't think I'm avoiding your company."

She is slightly surprised by the confession and doesn't know exactly what to say about it. She decides to just nod, without the courage to question you further on the subject even though she's dying to know exactly in which way you're going to feed yourself.

And when you leave her alone, and she wanders around the huge rooms of that mansion, she can't help wondering where you are, if it's like in vampire stories, and you're in some alley cornering an unwary human, or if hunting animals is enough. She becomes so absorbed in her own doubts that when you return, she hasn't even finished seeing the whole place.

"Having fun?" Your question startles her slightly. She smiles, turning her attention away from the art paintings in the room and meeting your gaze again.

"You move silently."

"A talent we share."

Wanda chuckles and waits for you to approach her completely. Side by side, she is the first to speak.

"Everything here is very beautiful." She says softly. "And I may not be centuries old, but I'm no fool. It sounds too good to be true. Be honest, Y/N. What do you hope to get from me?"

You frown, taking one hand out of your pocket to gesture a little. "You have a suspicious nature, Miss Maximoff."

She snorts softly." Y/N..."

But you smile, and Wanda gasps softly because your hand moves to her face, a gentle touch to move a strand of hair out of the way of her eyes. "Not everyone wants to take something from you, Miss. Some people just want to give." Wanda ignores the intensity of your gaze, the quickening of her heartbeat, and raises her hand to grab your wrist and interrupt your intention to stroke her cheek straight away. Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion in your direction, although your smile never falters. "I could just force you to talk."

"There's no need for that, we can talk over dinner."

She hesitates, aware of the heat on her cheeks. You seem to have a personal victory and Wanda lets go of your hand immediately. 

"Wipe that smile off your face, it's not... that kind of dinner. We don't even know each other." She mutters embarrassedly. You return to your previous position, relaxed with your hands in the pockets of your dress pants and Wanda crosses her arms annoyed at the way her stupid brain keeps finding you more attractive every time she looks at you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, miss." You retort humorously. "It's a strictly professional dinner."

She rolls her eyes, turning away to hide her smile from you.

"Just introduce me to the rest of the house."

"It's funny, all witches are always bossy." You comment, letting her gently pat your shoulder even though you could easily escape the gesture if you wanted to.

-&-

"I didn't know vampires cooked."

You chuckle, without taking your eyes off the knife cutting the vegetables. "Have you met many vampires?"

Wanda bites back a smile, rolling her eyes softly. "No, you're the first." She says, watching from the counter stool as you masterfully prepare dinner. "But I thought you guys didn't need to eat."

"We don't, not food at least." You retort gently, even though the implication makes Wanda's eyes sparkle with curiosity. You, despite being busy preparing the meal, notice the slight excitement and give a soft laugh. "If wished, my body can imitate all the biological functions it had before I died. This includes food." To illustrate, you take one of the cut pieces of carrot into your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you finish chopping the vegetables. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, gathering the courage to ask you what she wishes to know.

When you pour the cut vegetables into a pot, she clears her throat. "Would it be insensitive if I asked how it happened?"

"Very." You smile back. Wanda sighs slightly, feeling like a little child trying to be liked. 

Please, please, notice me and talk to me.

The fire is lit, you wash off the excess vegetable stock and wipe your hands on a tea towel. You speak again.

"It's 2024, which means that in the winter it will be 320 years since my transformation." You begin a little nostalgically, your hands resting on the counter behind you. "Twenty was the age at which I died."

Wanda frowns. "You were so young."

"Yes, I was." You agree with a sad smile. "I used to work here, right in this mansion." Wanda adjusts herself, curiosity taking over completely. "I was raised by this family all my life, and when I fell ill, they decided there was no longer any place for me here."

The witch swallows dryly but doesn't interrupt your story. You look down, bringing your hands in front of your stomach to turn the larger ring you're wearing between your fingers.

"Sick servants would be sent away, so as not to spread the disease to the rest of the house. I died on the road."

Wanda frowns slightly. "Who bit you?"

"Bit me?" You retort in confusion. 

She chuckles awkwardly. "Yes, that's how it works, isn't it? Vampires bite humans and turn them."

It's your turn to laugh, a little impressed. "What? No, by the gods! Imagine how many of us there would be out there if every time a vampire fed, he turned someone? No, no, it's a bit more complicated." You comment casually. "You see, there's an immortality spell, created by the same author of the book that was with you when we met. Original vampires are made by ancient magic, and these can have bloodlines. Weaker vampires are transformed by their blood. And others can be created, even weaker by their descendants. The trick is to die with magical blood in your system so that your soul will be trapped by the magic and will not leave your body. It is then reanimated a few hours after we die. To complete the transformation, we must feed."

She absorbs your words for a moment. Until she finally asks: "Who transformed you?"

You lick your lips, shifting your eyes to the pot as if to confirm the cooking time, before turning away from the counter. "Come with me, I want to show you something."

She follows you around the mansion, way past the kitchen to another level. The entrance hall extends into a long corridor with many old paintings. Finally silver doors at the end.

"This is the main suite of the mansion." You clarify, fiddling with a bunch of keys kept in your pocket until now. Apparently, the only locked room was that one. "It's been adapted, moved from the upper floor to here on the lower level since, at the end of her life, the owner couldn't take the stairs."

Once unlocked, you push the doors open with both hands, exposing the immense royal suite inside. Wanda thinks it looks a lot like fantasy books and is busy admiring the decorations when she comes across a painting on the wall that knocks the air out of her lungs.

"What...?" She approached with uncertain steps until she was touching the painting with her fingers, groping for the drawing of a face that could easily be mistaken for her own. "How is that possible?" She demanded to know, turning to you.

You were still standing in the doorway, your hands in your pockets. "This is your ancestor."

"And why the hell does she have my face?"

"Heritage?" You retort good-humoredly, but Wanda snorts incredulously, advancing towards you angrily. You quickly raise your hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping as you see the fury in her eyes. “I’m joking, dear lord! I didn't mean to upset you. Let me tell you the whole story!."

"It better be a very good one." She retorts, watching you intently as if expecting a kidnap attempt.

You sigh, nodding before turning your face to the photo. "Her name was Elizabeth. She's gone if that's not obvious. This painting was done over four centuries years ago when your family was still known as the Maksymovs. They lived well, your ancestors, as you can see from the amount of gold in this manor. But sorcery and witchcraft were never very well-liked anywhere, and just like the rest of us, your family was hunted down." You say, stepping aside to open the curtains and light up the room. Still, on your back, you continued to talk. "I was just a little girl when Lady Maksymov took me in, Elizabeth’s mother. I cleaned and cooked, and I was lucky enough to be allowed inside the mansion. To share the room with the family. All due respect to their memories, but my Lady was not a decent person. She was cruel and harsh and preferred to die on the mountain of money than give a little to the children she watched depart for this place. I stayed here because I had no other choice in life, and when the neighbors began to question what she was doing in the basement, she was taken away just like her children.  And unlike her mother or any of her siblings, Elizabeth was not a very talented witch. Her magic was dormant. That poor woman, always so sad under the cruelties shouted at her by her relatives. She could never master chaos but it got better when she gave in to the darkhold's allure. Unfortunately for the servants, her gentle personality was gone once her magic control was improved. I remember her dark fingers chastising me every time I failed to fold the sheets correctly."

Wanda swallowed at the anger hidden. Your posture was enough for her to believe your words.

“Why did she turn you?”

You smile sadly. "I was just a means to an end." You reply. "Elizabeth was what they called a Siphoner. Although descended from a powerful witch lineage, she couldn't generate her own magic. She could only steal it from elsewhere, either from a magic book or from a vampire." 

Wanda sighs as she understands, and you chuckle in upset. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You weren't even close to existing back then."

She moves closer. "Still, on behalf of my family, I'm sorry." The witch says as gently as she can. "I can hardly imagine how painful that probably was."

You shrug, trying to be casual. "That was a long time ago, Miss Maximoff." You mumble before sighing. "And it didn't work out the way she wanted either. Elizabeth didn't intend to use me as her magical reservoir for so long. She wanted me to transform her. Make her a heretic, a vampire-witch hybrid so that she could steal magic from her own nature. And like a good servant, I did just that."

Wanda could feel the force of your painful memories with her telekinesis, flashes of vivid images in your mind begging to be relieved. A personal torture. 

"Let me guess, that was the rule you broke that put you in that tomb."

You lower your head, looking very upset all of a sudden. "No, Miss Maximoff. I was loyal until I wasn't anymore." Wanda frowns in confusion, but you sigh and stare at your own reflection in the window. "The abuse of the Darkhold destroyed Lady Elizabeth. Not even the spell of immortality could heal her, remove the rot from her soul. We traveled the world, searching for potions and creatures and anything we could find to help her, but I knew that the slaughter she was doing in the name of her own health had to be stopped. When our last trip ended, I told her I wouldn't help her anymore."

Wanda can see clearly now; the wrathful recollections of a witchy lady with an almost demonic appearance. The hold of the Darkhold on Elizabeth's soul. How you're only trying to defend yourself when you strike back.

You sniffle, turning your face away, and Wanda blocks your memories from her mind immediately.

"No greater dishonor than ingratitude." You mutter. "I shouldn't have turned my back on Elizabeth. She died alone in this empty mansion, taken by her illness. I returned to a rotten land wracked by dark magic. I restored every stone and raised the mansion to its original state. I lived as a vampire for a decade before I was captured. Elizabeth, in her last vengeful act, left a letter denouncing all her family's crimes to the magical authorities of the time. A lineage who survived the witch-hunts, chased by their own kind like animals. I wore the same coat of arms and slept in the family mansion, so they didn't care that my surname wasn't the same. But I wasn't a witch to die, and the darkhold refused to show the executors exactly how to kill me. The solution was a prison."

You're surprised that Wanda reaches for your hand, but you don't pull away. She also gives you a small smile.

"Three hundred years is too long to punish someone who had no choice." She says, the gesture of her thumb caressing your palm making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Definitely too long without touching someone was messing with your head. Little did you know, Wanda was going through something quite similar. Starved for physical touch. "Is that why you're being so generous? Do you think you owe this family a debt?" You swallow, nodding, and Wanda sighs. " Sweetheart..."

"Please let me serve you." Your tone is almost desperate, Wanda shakes her head. "Please-"

"This isn't the 1700s, Y/N. I won't be your lady." She assures you, her grip tighter. "You're a person, not a property."

"I'd be dead if it weren't for Elizabeth-"

"She was cruel and selfish, and she used you to your last breath. And beyond!" Wanda interrupts, not losing her composure when you huff impatiently and pull your hand away. "You can grumble all you want. I'm not going to honor the memory of some slave owner, family or not. You're free to go."

"But I don't want to leave, Wanda." You snap, almost pleading. "This is my home. Serving your family has always been... my purpose. Turning my back on it made me lose everything. And then you saved me, and for a second, I thought I could see Elizabeth again. I ran to this place, and I realized how much time had actually gone by." You sniffle, your hands going to Wanda's shoulders. "Please. Caring is the only thing I know how to do right."

Wanda sighs, her hands finding your wrists. "This isn't caring, Y/N, this is servitude. I would never ask this of you." Your expression falls as if you're being rejected. Wanda stops your hands from moving away. "But I could use a friend."

Your face lights up, and Wanda smiles too because she thinks you look so beautiful now. "Oh, that... is really very sweet. I'd be honored."

The witch chuckles. "You're adorable. Come, our lunch should be ready soon." She doesn't mention that you two walk into the kitchen hand in hand, and you don't mind, so you don't say anything either.

-&-

"I can't believe you don't know what McDonald's is."

"And I can't believe you've never been to the Opera, but here we are."

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief at your response. You're sitting on the living room floor, or rather on cushions on the carpet because you refused to sit so informally and she was still working on getting you to relax into the casual way of living life in that century. 

Weeks into a roommate routine, your activities consisted of having meals together and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You'd spent 300 years imprisoned, and Wanda had a multitude of things to introduce you to, while you'd been raised by the ancient witch family of the ancestors of a woman who knew little about her origins. You had as much to tell as she did.

Most days when you two would leave the Mansion, you would experience things that you had never experienced before. Restaurants, food trucks, and even the invention of cars or electricity. The Mansion needed to be restored too, but Wanda was happy to know that it hadn't been abandoned.

It was magically hidden, and she had distant cousins from very old marriages in her distant line. It was one of the best pieces of news she'd ever received - to know that she wasn't the only Maximoff left.

The Manor had been cared for over the centuries by escape witches, some of whom, like Elizabeth, had their powers dormant and lived normal lives under that roof. Until the place was finally inherited by her great-aunt, Tatiana, who was living in New Orleans, and Wanda would visit once the work on the mansion was finished.

She had no idea where you got the money for a whole restoration team, and you laughed when she asked, offering as an answer only the information that vampires can persuade people.

That's how you ended up on the living room floor, finishing gathering old belongings that needed to be protected from the paint restoration and set-up of that chamber.

"It's nice that some things have been preserved so well." She comments, stealing a quick glance at your figure distracted by sorting letters. You look good in this century's clothes that Wanda helped you pick out. The barely buttoned plaid shirt makes Wanda hold her breath every time she catches herself letting her gaze fall to your collarbone. 

"Rich families often treasure stuff." You retort with an easy smile. You stack a few letters before opening the next box of items and gasp slightly when you find something very valuable inside. "Look, I think you'll want to keep this."

The small item is placed in her palm: A gold button with an "M" engraved on it. The family crest. Wanda doesn't know why, but it makes her eyes water, and she gives you a tearful smile as she thanks you.

But despite this balanced relationship and pleasant routine, there was still the elephant in the room.

Every evening, you went out to feed yourself. For almost two months, Wanda didn't ask any questions. Even though she was dying to know exactly how, or even who.

But she didn't want to be invasive or even sound like someone obsessed with your fangs.

She would wait for some casual moment to bring up the subject. Perhaps at the next dinner party, with a joke, and then she would ask if you could show her how it was done.

Luckily for her, another witch was even more interested in the story.

Tatiana was an expert enchantress. She lived in an apartment in the heart of New Orleans and had a very busy pub, and to no surprise, frequented mainly by mystical beings. It was Wanda's first time in a place of that kind.

She was so excited to meet another member of her family that she almost forgot her last worries. It was her aunt, in between many colorful drinks after an afternoon of introduction, who brought up the subject again.

"So tell me, sweetie, all this work to restore the Maximoff household. It must be exhausting even for a vampire." Tatiana began with a smile. Her curly hair fell in waves down her back, and for the third time that night, Wanda noticed that green eyes were probably the only physical feature that most of the Maximoff women shared. Her aunt has a dangerous smirk on her lips as she looks in your direction, and Wanda swallows dryly as she realizes that it's the flirtatious kind. "We allow feeding in these parts."

You're taken aback. You chuckle awkwardly, aware of the two witches' attention in your direction. The crowded bar seems to get even smaller.

"I'm fine, Tatiana, don't worry." Wanda thinks you're lying. You can never maintain eye contact when you do, and she also often finds it charming how a vampire can be so bad at telling lies. "I had some blood before I got here-"

"By Morgana, that was several hours ago!" Tatiana cuts in, gesturing excitedly to the waiters. She was very happy to meet Wanda too and had been drinking since early morning in celebration. "You know, I used to date a vampire back in the last century. He had a restricted diet of animals and always looked pale and hungry. Are you one of those vegetarian vampires too?"

The question is rhetorical, she doesn't even hear your confused mutter "I don't think vegetarianism works like that". She's busy with the waitress, whose irises redden as soon as Tatiana speaks to her. The girl is younger than everyone else there and is clearly bewitched.

"There you go, dear, you can have a taste." Offers the woman, to which you choke in surprise.

"What? H-here? But..."

"Now, don't you act like a good Samaritan, Miss L/N." Tatiana retorts in a provocative tone, resting her chin on one hand. "I know what you got up to before you were imprisoned. Feeding off a waitress is nothing."

You're immediately crestfallen, your face flushing with shame. Wanda looks at her aunt with irritation.

"Don't talk to her like that." The younger witch says sternly. "'She's already received enough of a punishment.

Tatiana chuckles wickedly, tilting her head gently. A very familiar gesture indeed. "Let's get a few things clear, Wanda. The only reason I didn't rip that usurper vampire's head off the moment she set foot in my town was because she brought my niece back to me. The fighting separated our families, I never knew I had nephews. Do you think you would have joined that group of dressed-up Americans if I'd known you were a genuine Maximoff? No, dear, I would have raised you. Restored our coven, taught you magic, as it should have been. As it would have been if this ungrateful little blood-sucker had fulfilled the role she was given. Every spell has a price, and she didn't pay for this one she so boldly displayed for a decade of fortune-raising."

"I regret it very deeply, miss-"

"No, you don't apologize for any of this." Wanda interrupts you with a gentle squeeze on your wrist under the table. With a serious expression, she faces her aunt. "Let's actually get things straight, Auntie. You don't talk to her like that. Ever. You're not going to use something that happened three centuries ago against someone who has spent all this time imprisoned in a tomb, paying for crimes she didn't commit alone. It seems that witches, especially from this family, have a habit of evading accountability. I know that well." Tatiana gives a little smile, clearly aware of Westview, or what came after. Wanda doesn't hesitate. "She's my friend. And she's been through enough. All she's done since she came back is look after me, and I'm not going to accept this kind of treatment from anyone, not even my blood. And considering history, especially my blood."

Without contradicting, Tatiana nods in understanding, busying herself with lighting one of the cigarettes on the corner of the table. The colorful smoke wafted upwards as she finished a long drag.

"As you please, Scarlet Witch." The elder woman finally replies, and you swallow dryly, stealing a glance at Wanda to see if she might lose her temper at the slight challenge in her aunt's tone.

Damn, you'd forgotten how the Maximoffs had a rather dangerously weak ego to offend, especially if challenged.

But luckily for you, Wanda forced a smile, and the tension at the table eased. Tatiana dismissed the waiter with a nod and went back to talking about business in the city as if nothing had happened.

For the rest of the evening, Wanda drew patterns on the palm of your hand under the table.

-&-

Around midnight, when the desserts were finished but the bar seemed livelier than ever, you felt really hungry.

The witches were engaged in animated conversation about the times in Sokovia, how Tatiana missed the opportunity to find out about the Maximoffs after the surname grew more common around the country for a few years before disappearing again, and you used the opportunity to escape for a few moments.

A quick snack, just to satisfy your hunger. After all, you always kept yourself full around Wanda; you'd never forgive yourself if you lost control around her.

You make your way through the crowded bar, taking one last look at the back table before making your way to the exit. You're almost at the door when someone purposely bumps into you.

"Hey, better watch where you're going." Warned the corpulent fellow; he was at least ten centimeters taller and had a strong distinctive smell that caused you an instant anxiety. 

Wolf scent.

"Sorry, I didn't see you." You mumble, ready to bypass him, but he steps in your way again. 

"We don't like strangers around here." He informs you with a small smile, showing off his canine fangs. "You're lucky we have our orders, miss."

You sigh slightly. "Who are you again?"

"The name's Victor Creed, but everyone calls me Sabertooth. You know, because of these little beauties here." He points to his fangs with conviction. "They grow much bigger during the transformation. I once ripped the head of one of your kind with them." The story is clearly told to intimidate you, but your unimpressed expression makes the man clear his throat. "Don't go wandering around, Tatiana can't protect you on the outside."

You force a smile. "I can take care of myself, wolf, don't worry." You move around him to finally leave, but even with his back turned, Sabertooth laughs.

"Alright then, go for a walk while I introduce myself to your little witch. Do you know if the Scarlet Witch is looking for better watchdogs? If she's as stuck-up as the rest of the family, maybe I'll write to Kamar Taj about where she's been hiding."

The thing is, maybe you've spent too much time with the Maximoffs all your life. And your temper is just as bad as theirs.

Victor has barely finished his teasing, and you've already grabbed him by the arm, mashing him into the ground like a lump of flour. The commotion immediately attracts the attention of everyone around, but until the crowd fully identifies what's going on, Victor has already used his wolf-like speed to get to his feet and advance on you.

He's so confident about his own strength that it takes him a whole moment to realize that your fist has already gone through his chest.

"Give me one good reason not to spread your guts on this floor, Mr. Creed." You say with an unwavering expression, your hand clenched around his barely beating heart.

Victor chokes on his own blood, his muscular hands try to push your shoulders back, but you don't move an inch. He grunts in pain.

"I-I take it back." He gasps, but you squeeze a little harder.

"That's not a reason."

The man breaks down in a sob. "P-please. I'm begging you. I wasn't thinking-"

It would be so easy, just to kill him. Rip the heart out of that arrogant wolf and let him drop. You never forgot the feeling, the predatory hunger for blood and violence burning in your veins. Nor Elizabeth's disappointed look every time you ended up covered in blood and it didn't do any good.

Letting go of the heart, and pulling your hand out, you saw Victor's wound heal immediately. A full moon must have been just around the corner for a wolf to heal so quickly.

His release drew your attention to the rest of the pub. All those people, watching the scene with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces. Some clearly recognized you, others seemed surprised to witness a werewolf of that size being beaten so easily.

Vitor's blood stained the blouse Wanda gifted you, and you swallowed down the urge to vomit.

While you were trying to recover from the interaction, a duo cut through the crowd, and Tatiana's short giggle made you wince.

"Keep her in line, Wanda. We don't make a mess this close to humans in this neighborhood." The witch warns but Wanda is staring at you in complete mesmerization. You shake your wrist gently, letting the excess blood drip onto the floor before you start to move.

The adrenaline of the confrontation has starved you.

-&-

You barely enter the first alley before Wanda catches up with you.

"Where are you going?"

But you don't answer the question, you just keep walking and retort: "Go back inside, I won't be long."

For a moment, you think she'll obey, but how foolish of you. Wanda was probably the most stubborn Maximoff you've ever met.

She almost gives you a heart attack when she appears in your path, making you jump backward.

"What the hell...?"

"You're shutting me out." She declares, frustrated. You swallow dry, shaking your head.

"No, I'm just going for a walk to clear my head. See you at the apartment-"

"Taking a walk is what you're calling it now? I'm not an idiot, I know you're going to feed." Wanda interrupted annoyed, getting in your way and stopping you from fleeing. "Why do you keep trying to hide this part of yourself? I don't care that you're a vampire."

"Wanda, please, just move."

"No."

"Wanda."

She crosses her arms. "I wanna watch." 

You choke, chuckling nervously. "Excuse me?" 

But she doesn't lose her cool, nodding. "I want to watch you feed on someone."

Wanda imagined some reactions to the suggestion: anger, indignation, mockery. She didn't think you'd turn so clumsy, with rosy cheeks and unable to look her in the eye.

"You're a very odd individual." You mumble shyly, and she has to giggle confusedly, losing her serious pose to adjust the collar of your blouse. 

"Pleaseee." She stretches out the word, liking the way a smile breaks across your lips or especially the way you stare at her mouth when she talks like that. "I'll behave. I'll just stay put and watch. I've never seen it happen before. Please, honey? Just once."

You sigh in defeat, and Wanda taps her hands before jumping on your neck, and hugging you excitedly. It's a very difficult struggle to keep your fangs away with her so close.

It doesn't even last half a minute, but it feels like an eternity because you want to feed and everything always moves slower if the vampire focuses on hunger. 

"It's not going to be anything special, I don't want to cause a scene in your aunt's neighborhood." You let her know, thinking you need to talk a bit to push the dizziness away.

Wanda smiles excitedly. "Anything will be great, darling. Come on, I'll be right behind you."

It's easy to find prey in a place like New Orleans. You end up deciding on a restaurant waiter, isolated in one of the alleys. He's a young adult, distracted by chores, and you almost give up because of the smell of garbage so close by. But it's a very good isolated opportunity to waste like this.

Your fangs are already out when there's a noise behind you.

Wanda has bumped into something, loud enough to attract the boy's attention, who is startled by the two figures in the alley. One glimpse of your vampiric appearance and he's stumbling frightened away before starting to run.

You sigh incredulously, and Wanda appears in your field of vision.

"Sorry, it was..." She falls silent, surprised that you haven't gathered your usual looks and absorbing every detail of your face now. From the fangs to the completely darkened eye sclera. When she speaks, her voice is much huskier. "An accident."

"It's okay, it actually tastes better when they're scared." You shrug. "The adrenaline and fear accelerates the heart which pumps fresh blood throughout the body. That's why so many vampires prefer to hunt at night. People are more afraid of the dark than they think."

Wanda chuckles, looking at you in a way that makes you forget about the boy's footsteps becoming too distant to distinguish from the other sounds of the city.

"You're kind of a vampire nerd." 

"I don't know what that word means." You give a confused laugh and Wanda moves closer.

"It means I think you're really cute." She retorts, making you gulp dryly. Her hands find your shoulders, and Wanda gets close enough for you to count her freckles. "And I'm dying to know how these little ones feel, darling. Do they hurt?”

She's too close for you to focus, but you make an effort. "Hm, just a little, when they come out. They usually only bother me when I'm really hungry."

Wanda's fists cross together behind your head, and she's definitely too close for you to think about anything other than her.

"And how hungry are you now?"

"Very, Miss Maximoff." You confess hoarsely. Wanda smiles mischievously, tilting her neck in your direction.

"Well, I think you should have a little taste."

"God, Wanda." Your eyes close on instinct, your face falling forward so that you sink into the gap in her collarbone. Wanda shudders, as affected as you are. Her hands-free themselves so that she can stroke your arm, as a reassurance that everything is all right, and also caress your hair because apparently everything so far hasn't been maddening enough for her.

Every cell of your spirit begs you to sink your fangs into the warm skin in front of you, to drink every drop until Wanda faints against you, but you fight nature itself with her help. Her soft sighs in your ear, assuring you that she trusts you.

"It'll only be a little bit, I promise." You assure her, licking the spot gently and drawing a deep sigh from the other girl. It's the sound you focus on before you take the first bite.

Wanda tenses at the slightest hint of pain, but another sensation takes over elsewhere. Her cheeks burn with the betrayal of her own body, and she finds herself unable to care about the mild pain while she's throbbing between her legs.

Her nails dig into your biceps, and she starts to squirm under you, surrendering to the sensation of your bodies so close together. You hum in satisfaction at the soothing of your hunger, and Wanda drops her hand to your waist.

"Enough, baby." She whispers the request, her nails scratching the hair on the back of your neck. "I'm starting to get dizzy."

You hold on a little tighter, and Wanda softens against your body. Her heart is pounding, and she is aware of her pathetic underwear situation. Your body heaved forward, and Wanda didn't have the strength to resist any pull. She feels her back hit the wall of the alley, and whimpers at the feel of your leg pressed between hers.

She doesn't think she has ever been so at someone's mercy as she is now. She just wants to tell you to help her relieve the pressure between her legs, but every time she tries to call you, what leaves her lips are needy moans.

And you kept feeding and the surroundings began to darken. Wanda only realized that she'd been grinding herself on your thigh all this time because her climax approached at high speed, and falling off the edge brought a momentary recovery of consciousness.

"Oh, God, detka!" She meows, spilling herself on your thigh. Her body spasms softly, and you tense up, stopping your feeding immediately. Wanda falls limp in your arms, trying to fuck herself stupidly even after the orgasm she's just achieved. Your arms are the only support keeping her upright. "Do that again."

You shake your head, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "No, I took more than I should have." You retort softly, and Wanda has to blink a few times to realize that your appearance has returned to normal. "What a terrible idea that was, Wanda. So dangerous… I was starving."

She gives you a dreamy little smile. "How do I taste?"

"The best I've ever had." You assure her before adjusting her to hold her in your arms just in time for Wanda to lose consciousness.

She dreams of the same feeling of being carried but in a place much colder than New Orleans.

-&-

She wakes up just in time to see you putting her to bed, all the way to the borrowed room in her aunt's empty apartment.

Wanda grabs your wrist before you can pull away after putting the covers over her.

"Hey." Your voice and gaze are so sweet that she almost forgets everything that has happened so far. But Wanda actually remembers very well, and the lingering sensation of your body against hers makes her shiver. 

"Hey... sorry for blacking out on you." She murmurs, her free hand coming up to your face. You bite your lip, still hovering over her body and uncertain what you should do next. Should you pull away? Lean in and kiss Wanda like you've been dreaming of doing for weeks? She seems to be able to see all the hesitation in your eyes, and offers a reassuring smile, her hand caressing your cheek. "What's wrong?"

Wanda is definitely teasing you, but you don't mind, smiling too as you steady your hands next to her body on the mattress, face to face, the two of you waiting for the other to make a move first until the tension is almost unbearable. But you also remember what brought you there, and let out a small sigh.

"You shouldn't have baited me like that, Wanda. It's dangerous, I could have... lost control."

Her expression becomes almost mischievous, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "I've survived much worse, darling."

You sigh in frustration. "Wanda..."

"It's the truth." She chuckles even though you move away to sit down properly. Wanda also mimics the gesture, looking for your hand on the bed so that you stop grimacing and look at her. "Hey, come on, don't be upset."

"I'm not."

"Then why the pout?" She leans in, kissing your cheek and you snort away, unable to stay angry with this adorably charming witch. "You have to trust me, sweetheart." She whispers, kissing your jaw. You sigh, squeezing her hand gently.

"I trust you with my life, Wanda." You let her know in the same tone, intertwining your fingers in her lap. Wanda smiles against your skin, chaste kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone. "I'm just scared... that one day, I'll lose control and hurt you. I'd never forgive myself."

She pulls away a little to look you in the eye. "I meant it what I said before." Starts the witch. "I've been through much worse. You weren't there to see... what I did to reach that little girl. You don't have to worry about hurting me, because it doesn't matter, I'll always heal." With your hesitation, she pulls further away to push the collar of her shirt aside and let you see the place where you fed on her a few minutes ago. "Look, it's gone. You have to trust me, darling. I know that the idea of anyone being stronger than an original is hard for you to accept, but believe me, I'll be fine. I'll always be fine, even if you are starving and out of your mind."

You grimace, adjusting yourself so that you can hold her by the waist and place her on your lap. "Just because you're going to heal doesn't mean I can hurt you. You deserve kindness, Wanda. I can give you my best." Your mouth meets hers, it's not a hungry kiss but it's a hot one and it takes Wanda out of her orbit. It's been a while since the last time, and well, it's never really been like this. She struggles a little to find her rhythm, for a short moment just panting against your experienced tongue, until she finally responds in an equally passionate way that makes you sigh and press your body to hers. 

Wanda likes the sound. Wanda likes you.

"Can I take off your shirt?" Your request comes between one kiss and another, she hardly answers because her mind is clouded with arousal, and if she could be honest, she would have been out of her clothes a long time ago. 

"Yes, please." She gasps back, anxious hands tracing your back. Wanda is restless under your touch, shy about your gaze once the clothes come off. But you do everything with an unbearable slowness that leaves her squeezing her thighs together in search of relief. 

She had sex before - For the first time in a war-torn adolescence, an experience that was forgettable and almost regretted. And then with a machine man who could pretend but never had the biological need to do so. 

This moment right now was like no other, being with someone who worshipped her body, who was as breathless as she was, who reacted to her touch and was practically at her mercy when she touched the right spot.

And Wanda finds that she loves it. Having you touch her and touch you back, and feeling your fangs scratch her skin every time she thrusts her hips into yours.

Pinned against the bed, naked as you are, your legs entwined together like your bodies. Sighs of pleasure mingle with the dance of your hips, and Wanda digs her nails into your back as your fangs press into her collarbone. 

You drink less than last time, but her legs still tingle. Or maybe it's the orgasm hitting her hard.

This is different from the first - the whole bed vibrates with the wave of magic that escapes the witch with her back arched. You hold Wanda, even though you're also shaking with the force of your own climax. She initiates the next kiss this time, moaning into your tongue as she spins your bodies around with ease. Your hands entwine together at the top of your head, but Wanda lets go, lowering herself and getting a confused sigh from you.

"What are you up to, little witch?"

Then it occurs to her with your expression that you are four centuries old and have spent much of this time as a prisoner and that perhaps you haven't been so confident because Wanda is your first lover.

She looks back up, sitting on your hips, breathing out of rhythm but now with a new excitement shining in her eyes.

"Babe, be honest... have you ever been with a woman before?"

Your face gains a deep color, and you turn your gaze away. Wanda falls hard, even if it doesn't occur to her yet.

She giggles softly and you're even more embarrassed, but she doesn't let you move away, her firm legs holding you in place.

"Don't make fun of me." You mutter, and Wanda snorts softly.

"Never." She assures you, even though she already has a new dozen antics memorized. Her mouth kisses your jaw and goes down like her body. The color in your cheeks is for another reason soon. "I love being your first. I want to make you feel good."

You hesitate to hold her when she's stimulating you, worried about losing control of your own strength. The sheets are destroyed when Wanda flicks her tongue over your breasts, smiling with delight at the sight of you squirming.

She goes lower and you gasp for air. "What... are you doing?" You ask mortified. It's not the 1700s anymore, you have to remember. Female pleasure is, well, taken into account. Wanda bites the inside of your thighs, watching the muscles twitch for a moment.

"You'll love it, I promise." It's the only thing she says before diving in, her hot mouth pulling all the air from your lungs. It's the most wonderful thing you've ever felt. Wanda's tongue works on your most intimate part, teasing your entrance before she starts to eat you out hungrily. You grip the headboard, your eyes closed tightly. Wanda holds your legs open, and the knot in your stomach starts to become impossible to contain. 

The witch seems to like it too. She moans for your taste on her tongue, and the new vibration pushes you over the edge. Wanda holds your spasming body without difficulty, you think she uses magic for that. And still calming down, it takes you a whole moment to stop seeing stars.

Wanda licks up every drop of your pleasure, moaning softly before meeting your gaze again. You can't hold it, and end up covering your reddened face with your arm while ignoring the smug giggle of the witch who begins to climb your body again.

"Don't be shy... you look so pretty when you moan my name." She praises you provocatively, and you can't help but smile, feeling completely relaxed. Wanda waits for you to look at her again, her arms resting on your shoulder so that she can look at you closely. "Hi."

Your hand finds her cheek. " Hi, yourself." She leans into your touch, her smile filling your chest with warm happiness. Wanda sighs.

"Can we stay like this? Just for a moment." She asks quietly, and something in her gaze tells her that the question isn't just for today. Wanda wants to know if you can be with her.

You would. Forever if she wished. "Of course, little witch. For as long as you want."

[devieuls]

ˋ Love Lessons .

Neteyam Sully x Omatikaya Reader ( ONE SHOT )

Synopsis : After years of friendship, you realize that you have fallen in love with your best friend Neteyam, but you decide to keep your crush to yourself, afraid of ruining your relationship. The only thing that gave you any comfort was the fact that Neteyam was not interested in any woman, until one day he asks you for advice to make his crush understand that he is interested in her.

Warning : SMUT MDNI - Bites, oral sex, canines, hickeys, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, light dirty talk, foreplay…

Lenght : 5k

Notes : I don’t know, I feel like I could have done better. There are some smut parts that I liked more than others, but I don’t know. I think I’ll do it again later, I also tried to contain myself in detail (as a test, but I think I will continue to write with many details)

NETEYAM: 22 y.o / Y/N: 20 y.o

NA'VI WORDS : TANHI: Star / Bioluminescent freckles; KARYU: Teacher

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

As long as you can remember, Neteyam Sully has always been the person closest to you, covering your back every time you created trouble in the Omatikaya clan or got into trouble with your own family. Fortunately your parents trusted Neteyam blindly, after all he was the son of the Olo'eykte and as he grew up, his reputation grew with him, making him worthy of the trust of the whole clan. You could consider him your best friend, who understood and appreciated your rebellious spirit and so contrasted with his, creating a perfect balance in your relationship, as one gave the other what one lacked.

When you were younger it seemed easier to see you only as friends, but when you came of age you found it difficult to see Neteyam only as a friend. You had to admit that he had become a handsome Na'vi, an excellent warrior and probably the definition of perfection in the flesh, always teasing him about things like "You are Eywa’s favorite" and similar phrases. It was a fact that Neteyam excelled at everything he experimented with, so much so that he was the first Na'vi of his group to complete his Iknimaya on the first try, so you assumed he was perfect at everything. You never tried to make him understand your true feelings, intimidated by the fact that he would probably reject you and drive you away, ruining a friendship that lasted for years. So you arrived at the age of twenty with a huge crush on your best friend, watching in silence as the young Na'vi attached to him and flirted to become his companion and one day Tsahìk. You were heartened that he never told you about a particular girl, so you weren’t afraid to lose him yet, not wanting to realize that one day it’ll be too late to come out.

"Yn? Why are you so thoughtful?" Neteyam asked you as you walked through the forest, to reach your secret place where you two spent most of your time. "Mh? A-Ah, nothing, I was just seeing if there were fruits around to collect and take with us" You replied, smiling at the Na'vi near you, trying to drive away all the thoughts that haunted your mind. "Are you sure? If you need to talk to me about something, here I am, you know ma Tanhì" His sweet and caring voice was just one of many curses that didn't help your arduous feat of not thinking of him as a possible partner, but only as a childhood friend. "Yes" you hissed, forcing a smile and then turning away from him, bringing it back on the path before you. You kept walking for a few minutes and then you stopped because of Neteyam who got stuck in his footsteps. You looked at him worried, thinking that he had stepped on a poisonous animal that created paralysis or something like this, but then he turned to you with an embarrassed and shy look. "Ma Tanhì… can I ask you something?" he asked nervously, while scratching the back of his neck, noticing a slight veil of redness on his cheeks. "Umh… yes, tell me" you answered, approaching him, trying to figure out what question might embarrass him this way. "How do you get a girl?" The question hit you directly where it would hurt you most. "I-I mean, I’m asking you because you’re my only female friend, and I know asking Kiri would be the same as being mocked by all my siblings, and my mom isn’t the type to make that clear, saying things like 'follow your heart' or 'be yourself', so… I was hoping to hear it from you," he continued shyly.

At that moment all your beliefs collapsed like a house of cards, realizing that it was now too late even to mention that you had a crush on him. You didn’t react right away, your heart weighed so much that it crushed your lungs, taking away your ability to speak. After a few seconds you began to laugh, hiding your pain behind this action, hoping that Neteyam would not notice from your eyes that you were hurt. "The mighty warrior Neteyam, son of the Olo'eyktan and golden boy of the Omatikaya clan does not know how to get a girl? Really?" You asked ironically, knowing perfectly well that every girl in the clan would fall at his feet with a simple smile or greeting. "Neteyam, knowing you, you’ll just need to introduce yourself to this girl and she’ll be at your feet." your voice was a little tougher but sincere. You started walking in the forest followed by Neteyam who was trying to keep your quick step. "Let’s say she’s not like the other girls, this girl probably doesn’t even see me… Or if she does, she doesn’t do it the way I would" Unknowingly Neteyam was stabbing your heart repeatedly with those words. "Neteyam, c'mon. All the village women have a crush on you, you are the ideal type of all, so I doubt that 'this girl' doesn't see you as you would like" You snort while moving the plants to walk, feeling the look of Neteyam burn on your back and then sigh. "I’m telling you, that’s it. Y/n, you’re my…best friend, help me. Please, I promise I’ll cover you with your parents when you run off in the middle of the night, whatever you want" his desperate voice made you laugh, having never heard he beg like this.

"And you’ll have to take Tuk and my little sister Popiti out whenever they want. Plus, you will accompany me and Kiri to collect beads and objects in the forest" You turned to him suddenly, finding him a few inches away from your body. backing up because of the short distance between your bodies. "All right, will you help me?" he lowered his voice quietly, looking you in the eye while waiting for your answer. "Yes… Tell me about this girl." You back off before you start walking again, trying to calm your heart that was starting to run in your chest. Your tone was slightly cold, you didn’t really want to hear him talk about his crush, but as his friend you couldn’t even back out, not after he was always there for you. "Well, she’s… you know…" he began in a dreamy, excited tone, following the direction you were taking. "Perfect. There’s not much else to describe her with. She’s different from all the girls I’ve ever met, she’s kind, caring, and she loves being with kids. I know she’s a rebellious spirit and she likes to make things. is perfect, then her hair-" you stopped him before he could continue to describe her and go into pseudo-romantic details like the smell of her hair or the sound of her laughing. "That’s enough, I could throw up if you started listing the physical characteristics too" Neteyam laughed embarrassedly, remaining behind you. "Have you already come out? Or have you at least made her think you’re interested?" Your voice became slightly gloomy, and then stopped once you arrived at your secret place.

The place was lovely, you had found it as children and from that day had become your place, there was a small waterfall that created a kind of crystalline lake that connected to a small river hidden by high plains and thick nature. You and Neteyam sat on the grass to talk more comfortably. "No, I don’t know how to tell her or make her understand… I thought it would be easier, but every time I try, she doesn’t understand it or she starts laughing thinking that maybe I’m joking" he sighed heavily, and then he looks up to the sky. "And how did you 'try'?" Your eyes met his, trying to help him in some way, even if you would have preferred to do the opposite. You still had to realize that Neteyam could fail in something as easy as courtship. "Lo'ak told me to show interest, to be empathetic and to be myself, but all this I already did. My mother said that showing myself confident would be attractive, but I’m confident and direct in words, and showing respect." Neteyam dropped on his back and snorted, clearly frustrated by the situation, which you also noticed from the nervous oscillation of his tail "'Teyam, I know no one more respectful than you, as I said, you would be the perfect mate for any girl in the village." You admitted looking at the guy who was now lying next to you, unable to look away from his sculpted body, following every line of his body, enchanted by how his chest rose and lowered with every breath.

"Then what do I do… Why doesn’t she understand? It’s obvious that I’m doing something wrong in the courtship, ma Tanhì" his head turned towards you, looking at you while you were sitting and watching him, making him blush slightly. "Maybe start complimenting her, girls love that. Put your hand in her hair when you talk to her, like moving a strand behind her ear, looking for physical contact makes understand your intentions, especially by the way you do it. Oh! Make her laugh, if you can make her laugh, surely you have done most of the work" your voice was bitter in your throat, you were hating giving that kind of advice knowing that he would use them with who knows who. Neteyam as he watched you listening attentively and taking mental notes of what you advised him. " And be attentive to the details, what interests her etc… if you remember important events in her life or what she loves to do, it is a clear sign of interest. Plus if you have common interests, could you do it together, for example, she likes hunting?" he looked at you enchanted for a few seconds, then nodded and said "Yeah, she likes it" his voice lowered slightly, as he looked at you, hoping that you would understand. "Well, you can ask her to hunt with you. You’re a great hunter, you’ll definitely impress her. And then… umh, I don’t know, maybe be present in her days, even with a greeting, maybe looking for her look or bringing her something you know she might like. And be direct, let her know that you like her, maybe you take her and tell her, you create the right atmosphere… yeah, you know… things like that" You looked away from Neteyam’s, feeling a strong twinge in your heart that made it hard to speak again, feeling as if I had helped him get away from you. "What if she doesn’t understand it? she’s a good friend, and I don’t know if she’ll reciprocate" You clenched your jaw, maybe understanding who that girl was. Your mutual friend had been acting weird with you for weeks, and Neteyam was acting strangely the same way. Now all the dots were connecting in your mind. " He will understand, if you will be directed with there is another way. If it is not a skxawng. In case you make yourself heard and give her special attentions." You said with clenched teeth, unable to hide the annoyance anymore.

"Ma Tanhì," he whispered, approaching you, sitting again just to lay two fingers under your chin, turning your face towards him. Your noses brushed lightly as his eyes rolled down your lips. "And as actions?… what should I do?" his hoarse voice struck you in a strange way the back and the lower abdomen. "U-umh… Maybe you should… w-well" The breath died in your throat, going to create a knot that pushed down all the words that were going to come out of your lips. " Hmm? I should what, ma Tanhi?" your noses rubbed against each other again, and for a few seconds you deluded yourself that he wanted to kiss you, perhaps failing to realize what was happening. His eyes returned to yours, making you feel a flock of Sturmbeest in your belly. "L-like… kissing her" You whispered with a thread of voice, while his free hand went to move behind your ear some strands of hair, then caress your cheek with his thumb. You swallowed loudly, noticing how Neteyam’s eyes seemed so concentrated in yours, leaving you amazed. "Should I?" His words made you take a deep breath, feeling suddenly weak. "You should…" Neteyam’s smile caught your eyes, staring at his opened lips, which received a mischievous smirk. "Yes, I should."

Suddenly a strong heat hit your body, causing your heart to pump as much blood as possible into your veins as your cheeks burned. Neteyam’s lips met yours, his hands moved from your face to hold the sides of your neck, pressing the thumbs on your jaw. You stood by that unexpected approach, and then only realized it when Neteyam’s tongue pounded against your lips and welcomed it into your mouth. You felt his sweet taste because of the fruit that you both had eaten just before walking into the forest, you moaning in his lips trying to break away from the passionate kiss to catch your breath. Neteyam bit your lip, pulling it with his fangs, now moving his hands between your hair and around your waist, pressing your head against his lips making you groan as your flickering fingers grazed the hard skin of his abdomen. His warm skin contracting under your fingers, as if you were made of pure fire, so much so that when you felt more confident of yourself and your body, you sat on top of him. Your legs tied to his pelvis, squeezing him to you as he did to your body, shuddering when his hand that was once on his waist was now climbing up your bare back, making you arch your body like a cat. You trembled when he came off your lips with a snap that accompanied the sound of the waterfall shattering against the surface of the water, making you pant and gasp to regain the air you had lost. Your red face and half-closed eyes while Neteyam pressed your fingertips on your body.

You feared, for a second, that everything would be over after that kiss and that the embarrassment would lead you two to stay away, but your fears were swept away when you tried to get up from his legs and Neteyam prevented you, starting to kiss your jaw. In silence your bodies were calling each other, you felt the pressure of his whole being against you and new electric shocks hit your back. His soft, moist lips drew wet kisses on your jaw, starting to bite and suck down your neck as your head bent backwards, keeping your eyes half closed. His tongue was even more raw with your already sensitive neck, rough and greedy explored every inch of your skin, occasionally pressing his canines, panting raucously as he savored you. Letting sweet moans come out of your throat in despair as your fingers crawled into his braids, seeking comfort. The curious and hungry eyes of Neteyam studied your skin, feeling contentment in feeling the trembling and shivers he caused you, enjoying your heavy breaths and the noises you made to contain the moans, as if you could be ashamed of something he was trying to hear with such desperation. Your back gently collided against the grass when Neteyam stretched you under him, sliding his lips down your body, as his fingers gently removed the braided top that covered your breasts, as if to give you time to stop him if you wanted. Your eyes rolled backwards as his rough tongue collided against your nipple, and his hand crept in agonizing slowly between your legs, caressing it. You bit your lip violently when you felt the gentle and circular movements of his thumb on your clitoris, feeling the chills come down and hit right where Neteyam was playing with his fingers.

The red cheeks began to burn on your face, as you carried a hand to your mouth to force you not to let him hear your stifled moans, even if your hot body betrayed you. A smothered scream of pleasure instinctively came out of your lips when Neteyam’s fingers slid very easily into you. You suddenly felt airless, your eyes wide open and your body trembling, eager to hear what else he had in store for you. Neteyam’s hoarse laugh made your tail stand on end behind you, while the tip of your head swelled because of excitation, making you blush even more. "No need to be embarrassed, it’s normal that you like this, ma Tanhì" he whispered against your skin, making you arch your back again because of his rough pumping on your breasts. "Shh, baby, just… enjoy the moment and let me hear how much you like it" Neteyam’s voice was getting lower and slower, more sensual, knowing that you would like this. Swallow loudly when Neteyam made his way up to your thighs, leaving behind a trail of burning wet kisses, accompanying his movements with his fingers firmly inside you, which continued to move as if they were waves, making your legs tremble. Your sensitive breasts made you shudder because of the light breeze and saliva that the boy had left on the tip, and when you lowered your head to look for his eyes, you found him blowing against the bundle of nerves that yearned to be satisfied. You once again felt his tongue but this time he was working through your needy folds, loving the way one of his muscles could make you feel all that ecstasy. You whined as your hands went to clench the soft grass to find a foothold to release the frustration of too much pleasure, dropping your head backwards, hoping to muffle as much as possible your desperate moans. Neteyam looked for your face, eager to notice the impatience of your eyes and watch your face become a mess just for him, with the aim of giving you as much pleasure as possible, wanting to feel you up to bring you orgasm. He started savoring your intimacy, tickling your folds with the tip of your tongue, making you grunt as you clenched your teeth. When he started sucking, you felt something break in you, you couldn’t even cover your mouth as you groaned his name without shame, watching as he was focused on feeding on your excitement. Your hand again found place in his hair, pulling them and accompanying his movements as he gave you pleasure. "Look how wet you are for me, you wanted me so badly?" Neteyam said with sensual voice, between a lick and a lukewarm breath to make you shiver and whimping.

Your legs began to feel tired and heavy around his cheeks, trying to close together to stop feeling that tingling and flickering caused by too much pleasure. Neteyam wrapped his big hands around your thighs, opening them wider, locking them as much as possible against the ground below as his fingers sank into your soft flesh. His jaw continued to move between your legs with a heartbreaking rhythm that went from slow and gentle to rude and fast, making your walls tighten around his wet muscle. Neteyam broke away from you when he felt that your intimacy was wet enough not to make you feel pain when he slips inside you. His eyes peered at your body beneath him, still trembling and sensitive, touching your already sweaty skin, worshipping how you writhed and gasped under him. You could only take courage later, drawing him to your lips after your fingers hooked to the necklace on his neck. You tasted your own intrinsic moods in your best friend’s saliva as you embraced his body between your legs, rubbing his covered intimacy with your naked, feeling him grunting in your mouth. You smiled as you felt him vulnerable above you, taking advantage of that moment to put yourself on top of him, your back arched toward him to allow you to continue the kiss that was giving relief to both of you. You began to rub yourself on his still-covered sex, feeling pleasure when his throbbing muscle found space in your heat, moaning with pleasure, as your hands on his chest could feel the contractions and chills running through his body as well.

"Hmhm, I know something you’d like to try." Neteyam said as he wrapped his hands around your bare hips, observing the red and purple spots that covered your body. "What?" you whispered in response, as you detached yourself from his lips, observing him with ardent desire. One of his hands came up on your face, placing three fingers on your jaw and thumb on your lips, caressing your soft mouth, and then gently tapping on it. "Open." he ordered. His eyes following your every move, worshipping the way you obeyed him by opening your mouth and taking his thumb in your mouth, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively began to lick and suck his finger greedily, whining as you felt the slightly salty taste against your tongue. "Good girl, you already understood" Neteyam continued, as his hand on his side began to explore every inch of your body with desire. The Na'vi lowered you to the height of his loincloth and you smiled before taking your face away from where Neteyam was leading you, back on his face, sliding his salivated thumb out of his mouth. "Hmhm, here I decide, 'Teyam" you whispered to his ear, noticing with the corner of your eye his jaw contracted as your fingers find their way under his loincloth, just after picking up some of your moods still dripping from your intimacy, wrapping your phalanges around his needy manhood. You heard him growl after panting because of your touch, his chest rising and the frustrated breath of his nostrils against your neck, making you smile for the effect you had on him. Your hand began to slide up and down his erection with gradual speed, you felt his hoarse and rough groans against your skin, his hands clasping your thighs and his breathless breaths. Your lips went to tease the shell of his ear, leaving some magnate kisses or slight licks. When you felt quite satisfied with how he was also pining under you, you lowered yourself making sure you kept eye contact. Your hand went to move and later rip off his loincloth; Neteyam bit his lip and then groaned deeply when your mouth wrapped around his glans, starting to tease the tip with your tongue. Your head slid along his entire length to completely conceal it, immediately moving the head with greed, making him hiss and wince under you. The vein of his penis pulsed incessantly against the inside of your cheek, as he bit his lip and carried a hand to collect your hair in a tight vise.You felt his erection collide several times against the deepest point of your throat, letting you fuck your mouth by Neteyam, before breaking off with tears of pleasure sliding on your face. Your lips swollen and reddened, covered with drool as you tried to start breathing regularly sent him into ecstasy.

The pre-cum that came out of Neteyam’s sex illuminated your lips, making him turn on more to the vision of you with swollen and dirty lips of him. He took you by the hair and carried you back under him, and then he opened your legs and slid inside you with a facility that you would not have expected. You moaned breathlessly as his hips collided with yours in that way, carrying your hands against his back, beginning to scratch and tighten his skin with need. Your cheeks reddened that welcomed other lukewarm tears, your legs tight around his pelvis and the strong heat that at each push accumulated inside you. His tail wrapped around your heel, holding you still due to spasms of pleasure. Neteyam’s hoarse groans did not delay in striking your ears, as he held you by the hips, caressing your trembling thighs and twitching at each of his lunges. Your sweaty bodies colliding with every little movement, making you more hot and eager to consume you. Your lips met once again, growling at each other every time Neteyam pushed against your G-spot, your willows stirring each other’s hormones still stuck in your mouths. You bit his lips when he began to push and grind inside you shamelessly, growling at him before whining, making him excite even more as he purposely struck where your walls held him tighter due to sensitivity. You felt Neteyam’s body stiffen and twitching above you just before reaching orgasm and pouring out of you in time, then carrying two fingers inside you and starting to pump until you reach your peak shortly after him.

You whimpered loudly after the strong orgasm that mercilessly hit you; your heavy, sore thighs as your orgasm crashed into him and hot splashes of your cum poured over his hand. He gasped entranced, stunned by the lust and how your body looked so soft and relaxed after cumming. You took long deep breaths, looking at the green leaves so far away from you because of the trees too high, the sun that lightly struck the place where you were made you return to reality. You blush when Neteyam lays next to you, looking up at him too.

"Well, then…" He started, while you recovered with your hand the pieces of clothes to cover yourself again, hoping that you both would turn a blind eye. "Hmm…" You whine while avoiding his gaze with all your heart. "Do you think after all this, you realize I have a crush on you? If even this way you don’t understand that I like you, I don’t know what other kind of attention to give you to make it clear" he said casually. You shuddered and looked at him in shock. "Excuse you?" you whispered not really wanting to understand the meaning of his words. "I say, did you understand that you are the girl I was trying to conquer?" Your eyes met and you swallowed. "I don’t know how to ask you more directly than that, and don’t think I’m not afraid to ruin our friendship. But I like you, not just aesthetically, i love every part of you. I’ve been trying to make you understand this for six years, not that I didn’t like you as a child…" His voice was slightly shaky, as you watched him in silence, trying to figure out how to respond. "You never let me know…" you whispered as you blushed. Neteyam laughed and led you to lean on his chest, wrapping your body with arms "You really are a skxawng, ma Tanhì. I’m supposed to be teaching you. But how to figure out that someone has a crush on you." You hit him blushing while hiding your face on his chest. "Yeah, yeah, lessons from a guy who doesn’t even know how to come out and only does it after having sex with his crush. The great Karyu, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan" You teased him and then got pinched on the hips by his hands. "Not that you ever noticed I’ve had a crush on you for ages." Neteyam looked at you perplexed, and you couldn’t contain the laughter.

"See? Other than 'lessons'. You’re more Skxawng than I am, ma 'Teyam."

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　

TAG LIST : @riatesullironalite @shadowmoonlight0604

[walpu]

Aventurine seeing you try and desperately rebuild your partner with the fake gem remains and part of him feels sad for you because you've been trying for months on end with little to no results. But he's also a little jealous? He can see how hurt you are but somewhere in his selfish heart he hopes they don't come back.

Aventurine getting broken so many times and losing so many inclusions that he starts forgetting the little things you do for him like he's going insane cuz he can't remember what you did together 2 days ago but he can still remember the warm and fuzzy feeling and it scares him. What if he forgets you name next? He couldn't live with that.

What if you make a promise together on a specific day and he forgets? You're so heartbroken and basically avoid him the whole day since you think he doesn't want to hang out with you and Aventurine is just left confused and hurt too because why are you suddenly avoiding him?? What did he do????

when you shatter together and are rebuilt, some of his inclusions get in you and some of yours in him (idk if that's possible but shhh we dream big). He starts to see himself through your eyes, how much you love him and all the things you never told him. You see yourself through his eyes, all his insecurities and emotions that he's bottled up.

ALSO what if reader was like a corundum or moissanite which both have a moh hardness of around 9 ish? So significantly stronger than Aventurine. Reader always throwing themselves in danger to keep him safe....

OK one last thing I PROMiSE

Aventurine still has a pretty high hardness, so the fact that he keeps getting shattered just means he's way too reckless when it comes to his own life. Just the mental imagery of you carefully putting him back together piece by piece, telling him to be more careful...man.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS HNK AU MY BELOVED

reader 🤝 Cinna

broken promises

I imagine reader being very strong but the power comes with a great cost. They have two modes just like Alexandrite but unlike Alex they can control their state.

Their inclusions collect energy from the sunlight and they can use this energy to buff themselves up significantly but at the cost of their hardness and emotional stability (the more energy they use, the more transparent fragile their body becomes). If they use all saved up energy, they'll end up in the comatose state for like 150 years in order to recover completely.

So I like to think they're older than Aventurine physically but not much older mentally since they were in coma when he appeared.

Also. Them using like 90% of the energy in their body during the night raid :) Aven being scared for them but also shocked and heartbroken because they use this power against him :) like oh wow they actually do hate me that much haha :) reader did this to keep up with padpa and be able to fight Aven one on one since even if they're heartbroken they want this moment with him if not as partners then at least as enemies

[hansensgirl]

summary. | The gift your step-brother gave you was part of his ploy all along.

prompts. | Ransom Drysdale + Step-brother + “You ask too many questions. Just relax.” + Drugging, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!step-brother!Ransom Drysdale x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, drugging, stepcest, allusions/mentions of spying, praise, ransom says some weird stuff, Christmas gifts, losing consciousness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You sigh as you turn the shower off, wiping your face of the water before stepping out. You grab your towel and dry off, feeling cold once the warmth leaves your body. You’re tired—but you have too much to do.

It’s a shame that your step-brother, Ransom, doesn’t bother to help. You try to steer clear of his horrible temper, but he just can’t seem to leave you alone. So you always grin and show your teeth, knowing that the trust-fund brat prefers it.

You take a deep inhale and bask in the smell of the oil you put in the diffuser. Ransom gave it to you for Christmas, and you were pleasantly surprised by the thought behind the gift. You simply bought him another cable knit sweater and a pair of loafers.

The scent is unrecognizable to you, and you make a note to read the label once you’re done getting dressed.

You wrap yourself in your fluffy towel and open the door, stepping into your room to find your step-brother inspecting the items on your dresser.

You gasp, unsure of what he’s doing in your personal space. “Ransom, what are you doing?” you question, gripping the top of your towel to make sure it doesn’t fall.

The large man turns around and gives you a smile, holding up the collection of oils he gave you. “Did you use one?” he asks, ignoring your first question. You nod your head. “Good girl. Did you like it?” Ransom continues.

“Yes—why are you in my room? I need to change. Please leave,” you groan in frustration. This is the last thing you want to deal with while nearly naked. Doesn’t he have friends to bother instead? People that are more like him and less like you?

Ransom simply hums, and he spins back around, picking up and putting down your perfumes and creams. You spy your folded outfit on the seat, but you must also grab your lotion and makeup bag. However, these become the least of your worries when you start to feel a bit dizzy. 

“Ransom? Did you hear what I said? We can hang out after. I just need some privacy to change,” you repeat, leaning on the doorframe to hold yourself up.

“You ask too many questions. Just relax,” he scoffs, turning around once again. Ransom faces you and stalks towards you, steps languid. You would roll your eyes if it didn’t make your head spin.

You try to blink away the bleariness, but nothing works. You can feel yourself slipping into the darkness, legs wobbling as they can no longer keep you balanced. 

“And plus, it wouldn’t be anything I haven’t seen before,” he whispers, grabbing onto you. Your step-brother pulls you close to his body, not caring that his fancy sweater is getting wet. You don’t have the energy to react to his sordid words.

“But it’s okay. I’ll show you mine since you showed me yours,” Ransom snickers, peeking over your head to eye the diffuser. “Aw, you really should be more careful, step-sis,” he tells you. You fall into his chest and look up at him, your eyesight turning dark as you can barely make out his sharp features.

“Wha…?” you manage to eke out before completely losing consciousness. Ransom holds you in his arms and sways from side to side, almost as if in a dance. He thinks about how long he has wanted you and just what else he would do to get you in the palm of his hand. 

[degreedummy]

Leo/Cancer 12H + 12H Sun/Moon

Getting too comfortable in your current conditions or refusing to acknowledge how your needs have developed out of fear of looking selfish will make following your desires almost completely impossible.

For Leo 12H/12H Sun, I think you have a habit of only allowing your confidence to extend as far as people validate it, refusing to set yourself up to be the punchline of a joke you have a habit of seeing yourself as. With your ego being cast into the shadows, the only time you allow your confidence to breathe is when someone passes by with a torch. You've become accustomed to cherishing your talents in the dark so much so that you've never taken the time to explore practicing them freely.

For Cancer 12H/12H Moon, you have a habit of saying yes to every demand in a panicked attempt to avoid any conflict. Putting your needs on the back burner, you tend to only focus on making sure everyone around you succeeds no matter what, even if that means moving past you. You have a habit of being prepared for abandonment, finding your role in society to be one of an unpaid psychologist, traveling the world trying to survive off of the wished-for reciprocation that you never actually ask for.

You find no shame in second place because you know how to turn it into a platform to embolden the winner, setting your pride aside to allow them to have their day, but I think the comfort of never having the light shone on you has become detrimental to your cause. I think you find pride in being able to let pain go easily, but there tends to be a twisted past behind this habit, most usually a refusal for your original comforts to be met by people who promised you more than they were ever actually willing to give you.

You call victim to false promises, to a point that it almost feels like you intentionally fulfill your half to hear whatever pretty words they have prepared for you, completely submitting to the comfort while ignoring the backhanded disloyalty being slid in under it. There isn't anything you won't do for somebody you love, except for letting them go and allowing them to face the consequences of their own actions. You have a habit of stepping in between your friends and their fate.

You put no second thought into sacrificing whatever you have left to make sure the rest of the village eats for the night, even if that means going on hunger strike for the fifth night this week, and you need to learn when to stop. You're naturally altruistic, wanting nothing more than to see the people you love succeed, but you need to become more comfortable in questioning what that love is built on before trying to polish a rock like it's a statue. You don't need people as much as they convince you, they only recognize what they're losing without you, and you can't take it away if you're not aware of it. You're not aware of your power because you use it to apologize for not being even better.

I think part of you knows that you can let go at any time, refusing to answer the phone and accepting whatever reputation comes with it, but that's exactly why it bothers you. You never want to be known as the person who didn't help.

You never want to be known as the person who became everything they hated in the people they promised to be better than. You never want that one wrong interaction to be the career-defining moment that means nothing else you do will be taken seriously. At some point, you need to recognize your reputation isn't as fragile as the relationships people love to entrap you in. You are not either good or bad, you do not have irredeemable qualities, your willingness to try harder is all you need.

No matter how slanderous someone can be, the collective will be able to see the quality of your character through the veil of lies your own friends warn you against to keep you around. You are not helpless, people who benefit from your intentionally limited potential find comfort in enforcing your helplessness, and you need to be able to recognize the cause of the cycle if you truly want to break it.

You can't find comfort in consolation prizes and participation trophies, especially when you know the votes were intentionally mishandled to steal the win for someone else. You are not selfish for expecting, and enforcing, payment for your services. Stop working for free to make up for not working in advance, because none of the work being done is advancing you in life. Break away from people who see no value in you past what you can do for them.

[cupcakeslushie]

sorry for nagging you but i wanted to ask if you have some tips on making comics. I’ve trying making many comics but i always lose motivation and can’t seem to get past even the first panel sometimes.

I did make a pretty long post here, with some advice for starting out! But that’s more technical I guess, and it sounds like maybe you’re looking for some motivational advice? So in addition to that post, I’d say…

Don’t look at these panels where you’re stuck as failures. Look at them, instead, as first drafts!! Keep the early planning stages loose, so it doesn’t feel like an arrow to the heart if you have to make changes. Many artists need to see their thoughts collected somewhere before they can refine things and move on to the next stage. Another big thing is learning to be okay with throwing those drafts away when they become more of a roadblock than a step towards that awesome, final version you’ve got knocking around in your head.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve spent an hour plotting the composition of a panel…or maybe I’ve gotten too focused on the little details of a character’s expression, but the rest of the shot has just….idk died. I’ll copy and paste what I did like, and delete what’s not working or I’ll completely start over, no fuss. Wipe my hands of it and refuse to look at it as a failure. If I drew it once, I can draw it again! Practice isn’t time wasted, it’s time invested into growing! Drawing is drawing!

It’s always good to look back at your work, so you can see your improvement, but only focusing on your unfinished pieces might be doing more harm than good.

And maybe, you don’t have to draw a full 10 page comic from the get go! Try experimenting with shorter form comics! You can tell quite a number of stories in just a few panels! Learning the ins and outs of something new is a lot easier to accomplish when it’s done in smaller increments. That way you can have that feeling of success more often and it’ll motivate you into not giving up!

When I started EW, I was doing parts in like, one or two pages! Because I was still nailing down the comic techniques I wanted to employ. I was gathering brushes and learning how and when to use them! Learning how to create compositions that worked around dialogue bubbles! All the boring parts of comic creating lol. But then, the more comfortable I became with those techniques, the less time they took, and I could really go wild with the creative aspect! Now my updates are much longer!

It’s just a process. But at some point, all the advice and resources in the world can only help so much. You have to be willing to put in the time!

I’d say it’s kinda similar advice they give when you start working out. When you’re first starting, and you try to do more than your body is comfortable with, you’ll be in a lot of pain and won’t want to continue. It’s easy to give up if you’re not seeing results and you feel like you’re wasting your time. But if you start in a reasonable place, and let yourself learn as you go, then you can gain good habits and it’ll get easier!

And only then, when it’s easy, that’s when you challenge yourself! Not when you’re already struggling with just starting! Or it won’t be fun and all of your drive will disappear!

And that’s really what you’re doing this all for, right? For fun!

[aparticularbandit]

the betrayer gods' betrayal - and the fight between them and the prime deities - makes so much more sense in light of what we now know of how the gods landed on exandria.

we haven't seen how the gods interacted with the primordials after they landed, but one can only imagine that the primordials took these refugees from a completely other way of existence and cared for them while they were learning how to even be what they have now become.

the gods were beings of infinity, of the multiverse all pulled into individual lights, of infinite possibility now made real, losing all those other parts of themselves that are no longer possible because they have to live in the present and not in all times at once. of course, they would try to reproduce that which they lost when they created people - such wonderful, captivating spots of possibility, who at every moment choose one way or the other, just as the gods themselves had to choose as they lost those infinities.

in making humans, the gods reproduce their trauma, see it happen over and over and over again in beings that they themselves created.

but also they see ways to try and mitigate that trauma, to try and help those who are struggling with the unknown, unknowing that they are such lights of infinite possibility, while they navigate.

so what the war really comes down to is choosing between the beings who cradled them and protected them and allowed them to grow and become and live with their collective trauma - who couldn't necessarily understand it, but gave them room and space to breathe, to make a new home - and the beings they created to be as those other beings were to them.

humans were a first draft (if you want to believe asmodeus, but he lies, so maybe that's not true), and we know one of other betrayers mentioned that he wanted to get back to where they were - maybe humans were originally attempts to create something much more exactly like them so that they could go back (except there is no going back; you've chosen who you are now; you have made choices; you cannot go back to a version of yourself when all of those choices were open to you).

no wonder the betrayer gods chose their adoptive parents - their first family other than them in this strange new version of reality - over what they made.

but also no wonder the prime deities chose their children - that which they created to be like them and in which they see so much of themselves - over those who were shields.

and no wonder when the gods saw that their children (their creations) were set to do the same thing but worse to them that the prime deities did to the primordials (even they did not consider killing them, because the gods are all so marked by that first tragedy that for all their fighting and bickering, they don't kill each other (only a human, ascended to become one of them, did that; only humans, who resent them in a way they do not understand, want to do that to them))--

they will destroy to protect their own. whatever stands in their way. they have already lost so much; they will not stand to see that loss come again.

[givemea-dam-break]

a/n: absolutely baffled that this series is doing so well, but here is the part 6 of Out the Window (lockwood x reader enemies to lovers) that a bunch of you wanted! i love you all so much thank you for your support <3 and thank you @nessa-stark for the inspiration :)

warnings: injury, language gn reader

full series collection: here

35 Portland Row is beginning to feel like a home.

You've fallen into its strange ways easily, finding comfort in hearing Lucy and George bicker over little things, and slipping into an easy morning after having a lie-in. A mug has been assigned to you, courtesy of George, and you even have a space in one of the cupboards for your own snacks, although they seem to be disappearing.

There's enough to keep you occupied: a library full of interesting-looking books, an area to practice with your rapier with two haphazardly made dummies, but you find yourself most often in the back room in the basement, filled with sources in silver boxes.

In one sits a small pen-covered box, completely unassuming, yet so, so heavy with memories. Even after a week since digging it up, you haven't had the nerve to look at the contents. Looking at it from beyond silverglass is enough to fill you with guilt. You don't think you could handle actually opening it.

Though you appreciate Lockwood keeping it in the display stand rather than taking it to the furnaces, there's a heavy weight attached to it. It's hard knowing the memory of someone you loved is in the same home as you, taunting you with the guilt of death you've been assured wasn't your fault.

You're standing in front of it when Lockwood finds you early in the afternoon, exactly a week since that case.

He holds a mug of steaming tea and a chipped plate with a couple of doughnuts in his hands. The sight makes you smile - he's becoming well-versed in learning to bribe you into helping him out.

"New case?" you ask.

His grin has something in your stomach doing gymnastics. "How'd you know?"

"You're bringing me my favourite doughnuts and a cup of tea, so it's pretty clear you're here to bribe me into coming along with you."

"Damn, you've caught me." He places the mug and plate down on a nearby table. "I had a call this morning from a new client - couldn't meet because he's out of the city at the moment, but he was hoping we could get rid of it while he's gone."

You pluck one of the doughnuts off the plate and take a bite out of it. "Any details? Are George and Lucy coming?"

"They've got their own case," he says, leaning against the wall. Something about the fluorescent lighting mixed with the glow of the sources makes his features seem that much sharper. "I was hoping you'd come with me to the Archives, get some background knowledge, and then we could head off. The house is in the area."

"If I didn't know any better," you say, "I'd think you just want to spend time with me, Lockwood."

He's silent for a minute, eyes flickering across your face as if trying to discern the nature of your comment but replies not too long after. "I'll give you time to have your tea, then we'll go."

And then he's gone.

You can't help the little flutter in your chest, despite its unfamiliarity, at the fact that Lockwood didn't outright deny wanting to spend time with you. Over the course of the past couple of months, you've grown closer, and it's been easy to forgive him for what happened a year ago, but you never expected to feel anything more than a platonic friendship between the two of you. But your heart speeds up a little at the sight of him, and the mere skim of fingers when he passes you things, whether it's a cup of tea or a rapier, has your skin tingling.

Until last week, you've been used to bottling up your feelings and keeping them hidden. Getting close to people means losing them and having to deal with the grief that follows, and that isn't a pain you think you could handle again. But, after that case, after being held so tenderly in Lockwood's arms as you sobbed, it's become very hard to manage your emotions.

With a sigh, still staring at the spot he had just been standing in, you finish your tea and snacks before hurrying up the basement steps.

--

"I think I've found something."

Lockwood leans over your shoulder, looking down at the newspaper you have splayed across the table. You can feel his breath on your neck, and it sends a shiver down your spine. If this was even a month ago, you would've pushed him away and scoffed, but now it's like you can't move. The memory of a soft kiss on your head has you rooted in place.

"What is it?"

"Newspaper from the nineteen-twenties." You flip back to the front page. "There was a murder, see, and if we go back to this page... Look, that's the address we're going to later, right? It says here that some lady, Maria Broome, was found dead, stabbed eighteen times."

"Eighteen? That's a bit overboard, isn't it?"

You elbow him. "That's not the point! The point is, I think she's our ghost."

"And what about her murderer?"

"Well, I believe her husband was having an affair, and when she confronted him, some shit went down and he killed her. He was the one arrested. God, she was barely twenty."

He leans slightly closer. "Great work. Any idea what her source could be?"

If you turned your head even slightly, your face would be mere millimetres from his. The realisation has your heart pounding in your chest.

"Um, not really. I mean, it could be her wedding ring or something. Maybe it fell through the floorboards. In reality, it could be anything. I'll have to listen out for it."

"Well, I have full confidence that you'll find it."

His hand closes over your shoulder, and you can feel its warmth through your jacket. It feels like sparks are coursing through your bones at the touch. Too soon, he pulls his hand away, but it lingers much longer than it should, though you aren't complaining. His touch had become a welcome thing in the past week.

"Let's go," Lockwood says, standing straight and pulling on his jacket. "We've got a job to do."

--

With iron circles set up in the hallway and the lounge, and still half an hour until any ghosts might start appearing, you and Lockwood share a flask of hot tea in the kitchen, watching the clock tick. The tea is a little bitter, but you don't mind all that much.

The kitchen light is off, but you have a small lantern sitting on the dining table, illuminating the space and casting everything in a golden glow. Shadows, created by tall, fake plants or decorations, loom, looking like monsters from fairytales.

Beside you, Lockwood chews on a biscuit. In the light, his cheekbones look more dramatic, and his eyes seem so much brighter. You can't help but admire the effect it has on him, making him seem otherworldly, in some strange but fascinating way.

"Have I got something on my face?" Lockwood asks, reading a magazine he'd stuffed in his bag.

"Hmm?" you say.

"You're staring."

Shit. "Think you need your eyes checked. I've been watching the door for any sign of danger."

"Mm-hm."

His sarcasm irks you but it feels oddly nice. Though you want to elbow him in the ribs, you also want to fall into the humour it holds.

"So," he says, "judging from the deathglow I spotted when we first scouted the house, I'd say our dear Mrs Broome was murdered in the lounge."

"I could've told you that. Found it in the newspapers earlier."

"Oh, you did?" He laughs softly. "Fair enough. Either way, the source will most likely be in there somewhere."

You take another sip of tea. "There was an heirloom cabinet in the corner of the lounge, filled with all sorts. I can go check it out just now."

"Let me come with you."

"I'll be fine, Lockwood," you say. "It's just the next room over, and the sun hasn't even completely set yet. It gets hard to concentrate when all I can hear is you pacing around."

He grins and nods. Although what you said wasn't necessarily a lie, it wasn't the whole truth either. It gets hard to focus, yes, partly because he's a fidgety guy and can't seem to stand still lest the world keep moving without him, but also because his presence alone is distracting. The sound of his quiet mumbling, or the faint scent of tea and cheap shampoo - it all blurs your thought process a little.

The lounge is cool, ten degrees, but it's no colder than it was when you first checked out the rooms. You can't see deathglows, not like Lockwood, but you know the iron circle is just beside it, right in front of the sofa. A lantern lights up the room, but you turn down the flaps, dimming it as much as possible.

In the far corner of the room, an heirloom cabinet made of dark wood and glass stands in opposition to the muted colours of the lounge. Inside it are a number of things: a photo of two men, a fancy box holding a beautiful bracelet, and an old-looking vase covered in brightly-coloured painted flowers, among other things.

What catches your eye, though, is a ring set upon a small green velvet cushion. It's a simple gold band with a small emerald inlaid. An engagement ring, maybe.

Cautiously, you open the cabinet.

"I'm about to listen," you shout to Lockwood.

"Got it!"

With careful fingers, you pluck the ring off its cushioned display, holding it in the palm of your hand. The metal is cold, but not alarmingly so.

It takes only a moment to open your senses. All sound disappears and, for a moment, there is no sound, but, then, there's a faint voice. Frightened and young, calling for help. A stronger, angry voice follows, shouting incoherently. You can't make out the words, but you can hear the tinkling sound of the ring falling onto the floor as if thrown, followed by even more shouting. There's a scream, piercing and terrified, then a loud thump, more angry shouting, and then silence.

You stare at the ring, breathing heavily. It feels colder in your hand now, and it's too late when you notice the thin layer of frost covering the surrounding area of your palm.

"Help me," a quiet, croaky voice begs. "Help me."

Slowly, you turn, coming face-to-face with the ghost of Maria Broome.

A Wraith, you realise immediately. She was once beautiful, as you know from the photographs produced in the old newspapers, but the wounds that caused her death have mutilated her. Eighteen stab wounds, you remember, and a good portion of them are on her chest and face. The sight makes you feel sick.

"Everything alright in there?" Lockwood shouts, but you can't answer.

Ghost lock, you think. You've been trained in how to pull yourself from it, but seeing her so close, so brutalised, you can't bring yourself to move. How many women have ended up dead at the hands of their husbands? Will you end up like that? Or will you let her save you from that fate sooner...?

"Help me," she repeats, and you can feel the emotion in her voice.

It's a struggle to speak. Your arms feel so heavy. "How?"

"Help me."

"(name)?"

Lockwood appears in the doorway and immediately draws his rapier. The sound alerts the ghost, and she screeches with fury.

"Help me!"

Her voice is deafening and, under the effect of ghost lock, you don't have time to move before her hand, covered in her own dark blood, touches your arm.

You can do nothing but cry out in pain, finally able to stumble backwards, as Lockwood launches himself at the ghost, striking straight through her with his rapier. You fall back into the glass-and-wood cabinet, sending it toppling to the ground. Shards of glass dig into your skin, and blood pours easily from the wounds.

Even now, you can see your elbow swelling and turning blue. It's getting a little harder to breathe, and your heart is beating strangely in your chest.

The sound of salt bombs hurts your ears, still ringing from the sound of the Visitor's wail. Lockwood's feet move swiftly on the ground, holding off any attacks from the ghost, but, even injured and ghost-touched, you can see that he's fighting a losing battle. The silver box you brought is still in the kitchen.

Pain flares in your arms as you stand, pickled with glass, and you've already lost the use of the lower part of your arm. Without an adrenaline injection soon, the effect will spread further, and you'll be dead before the night is even over.

Your lungs are burning but, ring in hand, you sprint out of the lounge and into the kitchen.

"Help me!" Maria Broome screams, her voice malicious.

With your good arm, you scavenge around in your bag, acutely aware of the sound of salt bombs exploding in the other room. It takes a few minutes, but, soon enough, you find the silver box and hurry to shove the ring inside.

All sounds cease.

Once more, Lockwood appears, out of breath and red-faced. "(name)! Are you alright? Did she -"

Weakly, you hold out your arm. The whole of your forearm is now blue and swollen, and everything - your organs, your blood flow - seems to be functioning much slower than it should. It's hard to breathe or see, and your voice feels like nothing but a strong block in your throat. Nothing will come out.

"Shit."

He runs over just in time to catch you as your legs give out. Collapsing to the ground with you, he clutches you tightly, careful to avoid any of the glass shards piercing your skin, or the area affected by ghost touch.

"Shit. Oh, god, you're okay, okay? You're perfectly fine." His voice wavers and his hands are trembling as he brushes hair out of your face. You can only look up at him, vision spotted with black. "Hang on, okay? I'll call an ambulance, just hang on. No, don't close your eyes. Stay awake for me, can you do that?"

It's hard, but you nod, vaguely aware of the cold tile floor on your back and the sound of him scampering away. His voice is distant, and it's hard to hear anything but the slow, fading pounding of your heart.

By the time Lockwood returns, the world has faded to black, and you can hear nothing.

--

Beeping. Incessant beeping that's pissing you off.

"Turn it off," you grumble. Who let you take a nap in the same room as the washing machine again?

A hand closes around yours almost instantly, and, with a struggle, you open your eyes. The room you find yourself in is blindingly white, the only colour being brought by a vase of pretty tulips, the strangely patterned gown you wear beneath a thin white blanket, and the tie and socks of the boy sitting beside your bed.

Lockwood sits in a chair beside the bed, dressed in his usual attire, but he looks much more dishevelled than usual. His hair is mussed, slightly, and his clothes slightly wrinkled.

Still, he smiles. "Hey. How are you feeling?"

You scowl. "Pissed off. What's that beeping?"

"Your heart rate. So, if anyone's to blame for it, it's you."

"Why -" You look around the room again, properly taking note of your surroundings. "Am I in a hospital?"

His hand squeezes yours softly. It's covered in little plasters. "Back at the house, you were ghost touched. The ambulance barely got to you in time. Another minute and you'd have been dead."

It's almost unnoticeable, but his voice breaks on the last word. Only now do you notice the salt flakes in his hair or the fact that his tie is the same one he wore to the case. There are bags under his eyes, made that much more dramatic by the bright white lighting of the room. There's a cannula in your right hand, and your whole right arm is tinted blue and slightly more swollen than your left.

"I -" You struggle with your words. Your throat feels dry, and you're grateful for the glass of water Lockwood hands you. "How long have I been here?"

"You've been in and out of sleep consistently for the past two days," he says. "The ghost touch was bad, and doctors wanted you to wake up fully before you came home. I was worried -" His voice catches, and your heart squeezes in your chest painfully. "I was worried you wouldn't wake up, and the thought of that... I wouldn't be able to handle it if you died, (name)."

He struggles to even say the word died, and it's heartbreaking. Two days he's had to fight those feelings, two days spent solely by your side if his appearance is anything to go by.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I couldn't get out of the ghost lock. If I'd tried harder..."

His eyes meet yours, holding you in place. "No, I'm sorry. I should've gotten there sooner. No, in fact, I should've come in there with you to begin with. If I had, I could've stopped her before she -"

"Hey," you say, softly grazing your thumb over the skin of his hand, "it wasn't your fault, okay? I'm alive. I'm okay, thanks to you."

There's a red tinge to his eyes now, and they've taken on a glassy look. "If I lost you, it would be like losing everything."

"Lockwood -"

"My life is better because you're in it, (name), and without you..." He looks away. "When you hated me, I could cope, because having you hate me was better than not having you in my life at all, but, now, after being able to have a friendship with you, after being able to love you, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had died."

Your heart has stopped, or, at least, you'd think it has if not for the beeping of the heart monitor. His words have you in a chokehold, and you're unable to do anything but repeat them over and over in your head until it's all you can hear.

Lockwood's face is full of anguish. "I know you don't feel the same, and that's okay, but I couldn't live unless I'd told you."

Your throat feels thick with emotion. "You're wrong."

"What?"

If there's one thing that bugs Anthony Lockwood, it's being wrong, and the look of confusion makes you laugh softly.

"You heard me, you're wrong." With great effort, you move your right arm until you can place your hand atop his. "I do feel the same. It's actually quite rude of you to assume I don't. Quite a dick move, Mr Lockwood."

It takes a moment for your words to register but when they do, the grin that splits his face is dazzling. You've never seen anything so vibrant, so entrancing, as this.

"You do?"

"Mm-hm. You see, the way to my heart is through doughnuts from Arif's, and you've done just that."

Your palms are sweaty, but you don't think he minds as he squeezes your hand again. You can feel his pulse thundering just as fast as yours.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I think a hospital perhaps isn't the ideal place for a first kiss, but I suppose so."

Slowly, as if you'll tell him to stop, Lockwood leans forward, eyes flickering over your face. Your eyes flutter shut just before his lips brush yours, tasting like shitty hospital tea.

The kiss opens up parts of you that have been closed off for so long. Grief had buried them so long ago, but it's as if the kiss is slowly healing your hurt, patching them up with badly cut plasters and an overload of Savlon - the Doctor Lockwood method of first aid. It's gentle, tender, cautious, and it's clear he's worried he'll hurt you.

But he won't, he can't. So long as his hand is in yours, or your lips are together, he can't hurt you.

It feels like forever before you both pull away, but his forehead rests softly on yours. His eyes look so bright and happy.

"Do I get a pay raise for being the boss's partner?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh, so we're already in a relationship?"

"Yes, you knob, we are because I say so."

"Well, whatever you say goes."

"Damn right it does."

He laughs, and the sound is enough to be a catalyst for your inner healing.

It's been a while since you've loved anyone, and you know the same goes for Lockwood. The last people you both loved died, and it's been hard recovering from that, but you'll take things slowly and carefully. Over time, you'll both heal, and you'll be there for one another the whole time.

With a smile and some urging from Lockwood, you drift off back to sleep again, comforted by the feeling of his hand in yours and the knowledge that he loves you, too.

[rascosmicwisdom]

Venus Rx. Check on that inner teenager!

This time is fundamental when it comes to our self worth/esteem/love! The relationship you have to yourself and how you show up in relationships at this stage gives us detail in how we view ourselves in relation to others! This is when one learns how they fit in (or not) with others/in this world(conformity vs non conformity), compatibility, exploring our understanding of how to apply love/create connection with others based on guidance from those older than us/more experience than us.

Age 13 is the 2nd house profection year. 2h rules self worth/esteem, what and who we value. 2nd house is ruled by Venus. Venus rules our ability to evaluate. Also, This is the second Jupiter return beginning to develop and shape our view of the world in how we occupy spaces with others romantically or platonically. One’s aesthetic is re-formed here too.

0-12 is our first Jupiter cycle. Age 12 we begin out Jupiter return as we are transitioning into a new part of brain development (Jupiter rules the brain)

The 1st 7 years (Mercury rules 7 ) is when there’s structure being built in the mind. (Mercury rules the mind) Major milestones/brain development. We are first experiencing ourselves in the world and forming a relationship with it through exploring our senses, being most in tune with our instincts, collecting information subconsciously. (Moon collects, Mercury utilizes the information). This time affects how you develop social skills. (Moon=sociability, Mercury=communication(verbal, body language, facial expressions)

Age 7 is the 8th house profection year. This is we begin to go through metamorphosis in how we interact with the world, gaining more independence. (8h=death, our separation from parents to explore other relationships and who we are, seeing reality from a different perspective )

Ages 8-12 is typically when we are beginning the journey of puberty, a transitional stage in life. This is when one becomes more aware of their body image (Venus)

12 to 13 is a great milestone in development. This is when we hit our second Jupiter Return. Jupiter rules growth, expansion, our political views, beliefs systems. Here is where we build upon or reassess this structure through our interaction with para-social & social relationships. Physical growth spurts(Jupiter) (Age 12: 1st house year=physical appearance)

That first cycle of the Jupiter return(0-12), we were gaining understanding/perception (Jupiter) of what the world is through our parental/guardian/family dynamics. Jupiter rules those that guide/educate us. This reflects in the relationship we choose with others.

13-17 we are more inclined to be influenced by peers. More likely to engage in risk and romance. External vs internal validation. This is typically when the Myelination(generation of myelin, which is a lipid, Jupiter rules lipids) of the brain is mostly complete ( development of cognitive & motor skills ) (the planet Jupiter is mature at 16) (except the prefrontal cortex , Mercury rules this (rationalizing thoughts, behavior, emotions) & Mercury Matures at 32, while the moon(who it gets info from) is mature at 24 & Venus(evaluative ability) matures at 25(when the prefrontal cortex reaches mature development )

Age 18 is the 7th house profection year. When experience our next phase in life, where we gain a new relationship to the world. Your status in the world changes.

Age 19 is the 8th house profection year. Upon gaining/losing a certain status in life, we are now on a fool’s journey, you may begin to look for new purpose or passion at this stage. 8th house= death. This is the ending of our teenage years.

Our cognizance of these years aides is in closing out past cycles, creating new experiences, finding a new direction in life, understanding the areas of our lives/selves in which we need to develop more, create a more stable/strong/secure foundation. Since this Venus Rx is paired with a Saturn Rx, we could be experiencing tower moments(upheavals/progression/transformation ) in current relationships(past relationships can be relevant too) , career paths, passions in life, self esteem, perception of love, etc.

[monstress]

hii. if u dont mind, could u please share that "change of attitude" towards journaling? i feel like i really need that.. since i myself changed my attitude towards drawing and have been much more productive and happy doing it this last year. however Writing About Myself its another beast completely.. hope u r having a nice day! 🍃

hope you're having a lovely day as well! anyways as i was typing this up, what starts as a small tidbit has gone off the rails so i suppose this is my blanket advice as a newbie in journaling:

the materials!

choosing the titular journal aka notebook:

soft vs hard cover - i didn't realize this is SUCH a deciding factor until much later. most people prefer soft covers since journals can get massive with use but it's very subjective. be tactile - if it just don't feel right in ur hands, it's not gonna be something u reach out for when u have free time.

size - the most common sizes are A5, A6 or regular aka travelers notebook. you have to think abt who you are as a writer. do u have a large handwriting that takes up pages and pages? do you like space or are you overwhelmed by a blank page? do you travel a lot and do u want something unobtrusive in your bag? choose something that will reasonable work as a part of your daily life.

paper texture - paper that is smooth to write in are a great source of pleasure. notebooks with 100gsm paper is a good benchmark.

price - pleaseeee do not break the bank to purchase a fancy notebook. an expensive notebook can become an unloved one. you'd be too stressed to ensure every entry is perfect and pretty enough and the notebook eventually becomes too intimidating for you to fill in. check out your local hypermarket or online stores for quality notebooks. moleskins are overrated--in my country, they are v v expensive so don't feel pressure to buy a certain stationary just bc you see them often on ig/tiktok like my journal cost me approximately RM10 (USD2.34) and my new one w 100gsm paper cost me RM17 (USD4) like affordable options are out there!

build a connection with your notebook - listen...this sounds strange but having an attachment with your journal and making it inviting as possible is a great source of motivation. personalize it: add stickers, doodle or paint the cover. get a fabric/pvc cover to keep it clean if you'd like (you can add lil papers/stickers on ur actual notebook cover before putting on the pvc cover! very cute and easy)

and your pens:

again: less is more! use any relatively cheap pens you like - be it for the ink or smoothness. if you want to journal a lot, expect to lose a few pens during traveling or just around the house lmao

for fans of darker inks like me, i use Uni-ball Signo Broad, M&G R3 retractable gel pen and my favorite: Faber Castell RX Gel Pen 0.38mm - which cost like RM1.49 (i dont wanna convert - it's change money in america)

final note: i don't use fountain pens so i'm afraid i'm not well-versed enough to advise in that department but i deeply respect (and a little in awe) of journallers who use them 🫡

the tenet!

purpose: what do u plan to use the notebook for? daily journal? art journal? planner? all three? it's your life! live deliciously! since i have a 9-5 job, i know i can't keep up with more than one journal so i've been using mines as a diary and i dump my daily activities/thoughts/reviews of all kinds of media i'm currently obsessed with and it fills up quick!

don't be too hard on yourself: if you missed a day or two of journalling, it's fine - take it back up. write down anything memorable you'd like in the past few days. if you come across a certain blank page your brain is blanking to fill, perhaps after a previous dark entry, skip the page. skip two pages if needed. don't be scared of blank pages. if it needs to be blank, let it be.

it doesn't have to only be words! add stickers, dried flowers, receipts, ticket stubs, other ephemera you collected in the day. be artful! go crazy on page decoration!!

if there's anything you take away from this post, it's this: if you truly want a journal that is used up quickly, do not have plans to share it on social media. personally, i find once you are in the mindset of sharing your journal for an audience's consumption, you get worried whether it's "aesthetic" enough or is it too boring or too ugly or too dark or that you don't upload regularly enough. social media can be inhibiting your creativity or motivation to journal like let your animal brain ruminate in private! stay free from the shackles of responsibility!

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

Black B- PASS- Special Issue - The GazettE - NINTH Reference book - (part 2 - song comments & lyrics translations)

1. 99.999

Uruha: "This time, since it's our ninth album, we wanted to make it a culmination of everything we've done so far. We wanted the SE (sound effects) to convey that as well, so we incorporated sounds from the SEs used in the past eight albums in a way that's noticeable. It was quite a challenge to collect all the past SEs, cut out recognizable parts from each, like 'DISORDER' from the album 'DISORDER', and blend them in without breaking the harmony. Overall, we aimed for an industrial sound that might be harsh to the ears when listening casually but would really elevate the mood during live performances."

2. Falling

Ruki: "We had already decided to make a music video for this song, so I had a specific tempo in mind from the start. The song was created with the visuals in mind. I told the video production team that I wanted to show a car crashing and being destroyed, and we developed the story from there. Initially, the plan was for a burning car to fall, but that was deemed difficult. We only make a music video once every three years, so I thought it would be fine to go all out this time (laughs). So I expressed my hope for the highest possible budget from the start. In reality, the costs were more about the three days spent filming rather than the car itself. Watching the car burn, I wondered, 'What are we even filming here?' (laughs)."

.

Falling: lyrics translation

Since how long Do you know how long it’s been? Together, let’s leap into the depths of chaos now so we can become intertwined Falling down Deep in to the dark

Distorted screams unraveling the past; I’m losing my Mind I covered my weary eyes Stuck in my head the ghosts of my past haunt me and drive me mad Where did I come from?

In those swirling depths, my thoughts may be an escalating contradiction but In those swirling depths, my thoughts are the cherished shadow of my former self

Scream if you can’t handle the crushing weight of rejection Suffer now that you’ve seen what you were like back when you’d lost yourself

We just believe in ourselves to die I know you were the same Together, embracing the same pain we’ll break It’s all right if we smash to pieces and scatter To be reborn again I’m gonna fall

Distorted screams unraveling the past; I’m losing my Mind I covered my weary eyes Stuck in my head  this shrill, noisy racket

Inside me Something’s changing I see an ending Take it all in I’m gonna fall

I watch the sadness slowly disappear

We just believe in ourselves to die I know you were the same Together, embracing the same pain: it’s only temporary Don’t forget that this is not the end So come on, let’s open our eyes and fall

We just believe in ourselves to die

Sometimes it’s okay to be broken

...

3. NINTH ODD SMELL

Ruki: "This song was created around the same time as 'Falling', so they feel like two parts of a whole. This song went through four transformations before it was completed, and the fourth version felt just right. I wanted a really good guitar riff. It combines elements that evoke Nickelback, the generation of Skid Row, and our own generation's nu-metal influences. Next, we added visual kei elements. I think it will work well live, and it feels like a song that truly represents the recent sound of the GazettE."

.

NINTH ODD SMELL: lyrics translation

This soul can never die

First 「disorder」 is an ignorant blade Heresy raising its middle finger in rebellion

Reverberation running rampant heading towards the ninth stair of desire Second 「nil」 the future that tore through the darkness Nameless lights

The grim precursor soon becomes Stacked up, wriggling Rubbish

Draped in crimson despair crawling from the murky depths A tower of fear and doubt looks down upon the world

Poison gripping your voice as the days jumble around you Your heart painfully being sliced to shreds Exhilarating in the feeling of destruction Filled with strange distortions You fight your way to the 13th stair So embrace the black black black darkness

[Die] We fucking never die This soul can never die We fucking never die Can’t never die

Both hands spread wide take one finger away Moving towards the end But, still partially entangled, you’re held back from flying

And now here, joined together It's figure has taken shape Ninth: “The proof that we lived”

Until it melts and scatters Melting my rusted heart Our clamoring voices may reach their breaking point But we won’t stop as long as we can impact you So take it, take it, take it, take it

[Die] We fucking never die This soul can never die We fucking never die Can’t ever LIE [Die] We fucking never die This soul can never die We fucking never die I won’t ever lie

Worship the idol Inside me

...

4. GUSH

Reita: "The song has a rough feel and isn't the type to exert pressure. I think it's necessary to have a song like this on an album—neither too intense nor too quiet, but something that gets your body moving. It's similar to 'INSIDE BEAST' in that it's not particularly difficult and serves as a good warm-up at the start of a live show. The chorus also warms up the vocal cords. I imagine it being more suited for the early part of a live performance rather than later."

.

GUSH: lyrics translation

The thing that’s reflected in my eyes is A widescreen puppet But I wonder if you’re actually something more You’ve adapted to feeling out of place By wearing the world’s view of Normal Spouting out whatever you think they want to hear

Gush over  you made good use of your eyes Gush over  since you’re being judged by their rules Gush over  when you turn to face them, they’re dazzled Gush over [they offer you] mindless wild applause

This high-end [life] is lively Compared to the one you had before But the impressive illusion is crumbling The uninspired solution of most of the world is just to Buzz Swarming to gather the sweet nectar [you provide]

Gush over  you turned and lavished them with your Vogue performance Gush over  they’d devour it even if it wasn’t allowed Gush over  with an adoring look in their eyes Gush over  [offering] mindless wild applause

Today you’re adrift, alone, in a swamp that can’t be completely disguised Your celebrity is only the illusion of breaking free and escaping to beauty

Your crumbling illusion is Dope

Gush over  you turned and lavished them with your Vogue performance Gush over  they’d devour it even if it wasn’t allowed Gush over  with an adoring look in their eyes Gush over  [offering] mindless wild applause Gush over  you made good use of your eyes Gush over  since you’re judged by their rules Gush over  when you turn to face them, they’re dazzled Gush over  [they offer you] mindless wild applause

Today you’re still alone in the swamp that can’t be completely disguised Despite that, you still seem like a decent person No matter what popular opinion may say

...

5. THE MORTAL

Uruha: "When I created this song, I was inspired by the theme of AI and a mechanical worldview, giving it a bit of a sci-fi feel. Choosing the sounds was smooth. We included inorganic voice-like sounds throughout, adding a subliminal sense of lifelessness to complete the track."

.

THE MORTAL: lyrics translation

She’s gone Cross a red line A quiet night That moment is pushed away What did you live for?

Lie on the color of sin Indistinct impurities sink to the bottom

She’s gone Cross a red line The remnants left in those hands

Laughing with innocent dead bodies and circling lies The hollowed personality, sculpted in superficiality Ugliness, ferocity, insanity, farce All around, the sound of bells Fills the air with contradiction and fades away

In hell Endless sorrow Unceasing pain that cannot be shed [One final] breath as I die, sinking down There is no answer

[She’s gone]

The day even laughter was stolen

In hell Endless sorrow Unceasing pain that cannot be shed [One final] breath as I die, sinking down There is no answer

...

6. Utsusemi (虚蜩; "Emptiness")

Aoi: "Utsusemi comes before Sonokoe wa moroku, serving as a bridge. It's not a transitional track, but it carries meaning in that context. This album must have been challenging for Ruki to create. Considering that, he placed Utsusemi in the best spot. Initially, I felt this song left a faint impression. We couldn't listen to the album in its final order until the very end. I kept wondering about Utsusemi, but when I finally listened to the album in sequence, it made sense."

.

Utsusemi: lyrics translation

I can't go back anymore No matter how many times the sun sets Even if I am burned by the dawn There is nothing left but this vow

If my wishes overflow, it hurts Can you make me forget somehow? Will I always remember nights like these?

Embracing sadness, in a dream-like state Scattered by the wind Even my reason to live I look for the pieces that I can’t pick up There’re only traces of you

Even if by enduring these wounds I knew I could see “the future” I still wouldn’t be able to smile I’m wasting away remembering My heart is unable to escape I’m simply blank Wordlessly they begin to fall These tears of guilt that flow I say farewell to you At the depths of the revolving lantern Every time I remember, I want to disappear

Alone, when the evening cicadas cease their cries And so I watch the reddening sky Trapped in a cage my love can’t reach [you]

Embracing sorrow, dissipating Even the endured days Barely resonate With the distant voice that encircles pain

Don't cry, it's over now The cicada shell that fell upon the sand was profoundly sad So very much like me

...

7. Sonokoe wa moroku (その声は脆く; "That Voice Is Brittle")

Aoi: "This song feels like it captures the delicate aspects of the GazettE. While the GazettE is often associated with intensity and rawness, there's also a delicate side to us. Creating a ballad best-of album reminded us of the beauty of these kinds of songs. Everyone carefully crafted their instrument approaches and the atmosphere of the sounds. It's a song that aims to captivate without being overly forceful, maintaining the unique feel of the GazettE."

.

Sonokoe wa moroku: lyrics translation

I’ve lost sight of “someday” Alone to the bitter end Weakness and sadness fill my heart Always more fragile than anyone else’s

Hey is there an end When will the grief disappear? If it hadn’t been for the promise we made that I couldn’t keep Maybe I could smile

What’s the use I can’t find it Who am [I trying] for I’m broken I’m just drowning in my dreams I can’t even see myself now

Pain piles on I’m pretending when I say that I’m not lonely I can’t hide the feeling of desolation and close my eyes Your words just…

Hey Is there an end When will the grief disappear If it hadn’t been for the promise we made that I couldn’t keep Maybe I could smile

“I want to be strong” My hope is that tomorrow will bloom with you

Hey Is there an end Sorrow isn’t eternal May the fragility I can’t hide Be just like this song

Pain piles on Worn out Too many years to count When I remember I want to be able to smile again

...

8. BABYLON'S TABOO

Uruha: "I want people to experience the world we created. I used various methods to bring my envisioned image to life. In the album, this song holds a similar position to '13STAIRS[-]1' from the past. It's a song that gradually builds up but retains a dark atmosphere. I'm satisfied that I could express my own unique 'darkness' rather than typical gothic or horror vibes."

.

BABYLON’S TABOO: lyrics translation

Spill it all Laughing at the forsaken in the vicinity What those eyes saw Was a feast discarding the weak

Sinister persecution Babylon’s Taboo Oppressed and uncertain, they remain bystanders. 「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」* Are you testing me?

「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」 Sinister persecution Babylon’s Taboo Oppressed and uncertain, they remain bystanders. 「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」 Are you testing me? 「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」

The glaring fiction and lies, Flickering in pitch black beauty. Reflecting murkiness, even the depths of the depths Fate I accept

This is Babylon’s taboo

Observing black eyes I can’t forget this humiliation Black eyes looking down [on you] I fucking can’t forget this day

In vain Even sanity has become uncertain This is a curse In vain Even releasing hatred feels uncertain. My curse

The glaring fiction and lies, Flickering in pitch black beauty. Reflecting murkiness, even the depths of the depths Fate I accept This is Babylon’s taboo

Observing black eyes I can’t forget this humiliation Black eyes looking down [on you] I fucking can’t forget this day

Sinister persecution Babylon’s Taboo Oppressed and uncertain, they remain bystanders. 「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」 Are you testing me?

「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」 Sinister persecution Babylon’s Taboo Oppressed and uncertain, they remain bystanders. 「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」 Are you testing me? 「ADE DUE DAMBALLA」  My curse

*In the "Child's Play" series, the phrase "Ade Du Damballa" is a voodoo chant meaning "Give me the power, I beg of you!" It is used for the supernatural transfer of a soul into a doll, transforming an innocent doll into the malevolent Chucky. This chant is central to the series' theme of combining human evil with the guise of a child's toy, driving its horror narrative. Damballa is a loa in Haitian Vodou, although "Ade Du Damballa" chant is fictional.

...

9. Uragiru bero (裏切る舌; "Traitorous Tongue")

Kai: "I think people of our generation will feel a sense of nostalgia when they listen to this song. It touches on a nostalgic feel that we've experienced. I'm curious how the younger generation, who might not be familiar with this nostalgia, will perceive it. Will they find it new? As for 'reverse diving' (a concert move), 'headbanging' has been mainstream, but I wonder how many young people understand 'reverse diving' these days."

.

Traitorous Tongue: lyrics translation

Daft’Back stabber’

I was drowning [in a sea of] viciousness stretching as far as the eye can see The last trick was the smile you saw that day

That face contorting into a twisted, grotesque expression is just…

[Daft’Back stabber’]

Am I still smiling? Tangled in a web of spite I fall into the trap of writing and rewriting, over and over again

[Daft’Back stabber’]

Are they all [just] an imitation of God? I don’t even have a tongue to bite off

Even when I wish for death, my dream doesn’t die my immense dream

I can’t hide the fact that [my dream] is just one big naïve joke

So we fall because of our mistakes, [but] 「We won’t die」

I can’t envision perfection based on my inexperience Even now, [nothing but] dull superficialities fall from Your tongue that just keeps on wagging Cultivated by your offenses

[Daft’Back stabber’]

Am I still smiling? Tangled in a web of spite I fall into the trap of writing and rewriting, over and over again

[Daft’Back stabber’]

Are they all [just] an imitation of God? I don’t even have a tongue to bite off

Even when I wish for death, my dream doesn’t die my immense dream Before long the remnants of time will reduce you to a crazy mess of loneliness, choking on your own tears

So we fall because of our mistakes, [but] 「We won’t die」

...

10. TWO OF A KIND

Kai: "To me, this is the most GazettE-like song on the album. It embodies the essence of the GazettE after absorbing various influences. The way the key changes and the overall structure is surprising and has a quirky feel. The part where the A-melody features a four-on-the-floor rhythm is a playful touch that feels very GazettE. Other bands might take a different direction, but this playfulness is our style."

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TWO OF A KIND: lyrics translation

The scenes replay through my mind Blending into you, who is so much like me Negative feelings that I can’t wipe out Emerge clearly, as if resurrected The scenes replay through my mind Blending into you, who is so much like me Negative feelings that I can’t wipe out Keep repeating as if resurrected

Filthy, ugly me is still falling so violently This filthy, ugly voice is still falling so violently

Will these wounds from youth, forgotten yet remembered, Heal when we open our hearts to each other?

I already understand that ‘what’s right’ is meaningless Two of a kind souls, knowing the same pain Seemingly destined, they intertwined

Within our hands, wherever we go A clear tomorrow awaits, unclouded Each time we share our scars, the future we see Seems to sway and dance

This pain is given by fate

The scenes replay through my mind Blending into you, who is so much like me Negative feelings that I can’t wipe out Emerge clearly, as if resurrected The scenes replay through my mind Blending into you, who is so much like me Negative feelings that I can’t wipe out Keep repeating as if resurrected

Filthy, ugly me is still falling so violently This filthy, ugly voice is still falling so violently

You exist for the cycle of rebirth, my only source of light Two of a kind souls, knowing the same pain Seemingly destined, they intertwined

Within our hands, wherever we go A clear tomorrow awaits, unclouded Each time we share our scars, the future we see Seems to sway and dance

We may be naïve But our hearts are joined as one Never to be corrupted

...

11. ABHOR GOD

Reita: "This is a notable song (refer to the band interview for more details). I think it will be the easiest song to get into during live performances, reaching the peak of excitement at the end. Whether we can share this feeling with fans will only be known after performing live, but I hope we can somehow make it happen (laughs). There were many keywords—fun, easy to get into, a bit intense, not too dark, and not too exhausting for the ears. It was a challenge, but we finished the song the night before recording the drums."

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ABHOR GOD: lyrics translation

It seems this Light is being stolen away from me The Glow reveals the secrets written here Good bye Before regret begins to spread even more Let’s raise a toast [to the] Goat

Maze, God, Devil, My life As I’m crawling up from the bottom My song of victory rings out

Kill off My lust my pride My anxiety over and over again [My lust my pride My anxiety yeah]

[Come on]

I strung up my quivering, trembling nightmares TOO FAST TO LIVE, TOO YOUNG TO DIE I swear by the beat bursting my eardrums that I can still do it TOO FAST TO DIE

[Malformed] Malformed imperfect world

Kill off My lust my pride My anxiety over and over again [My lust my pride My anxiety yeah]

[Come on]

I strung up my quivering, trembling nightmares TOO FAST TO LIVE, TOO YOUNG TO DIE I swear by the beat bursting my eardrums  that I can still do it It won’t end I even strung up my quivering, trembling God TOO FAST TO LIVE, TOO YOUNG TO DIE I swear by the beat now [fading] to embers that I can still do it TOO FAST TO DIE

My song of victory rings out: My life It’s my life

...

12. UNFINISHED

Ruki: "I love melodic songs, so this came naturally. However, it was only possible after 'DOGMA'. If we had been asked to release this after 'SHIVER', it would have been impossible. I restrained myself from making the structure too complex. The members advised against key changes and abrupt drops, which I tend to do. It was initially bright but gradually turned minor (laughs). It's a straightforward song, making it a bit challenging, repeating the chorus, and avoiding the impression of laziness. But this approach was due to the influence of 'DOGMA'."

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UNFINISHED: lyrics translation

These shaky words I’ve crossed out so many times Will never be enough to fill my broken days So I engraved into my heart The value of your confidence and Your complete faith in me

You always put up with my tears And at the same time walked alongside me

I will take your precious hand And show you something more than dreams Together, we’ll take my silent wish into the future You have my word

I gather together [and treasure] these passing days And pour out all the love I have So keep believing in me completely I’ll stitch into my heart The reason for your faith in me

During that time when I ran away You were the light that shined on the path I took I can’t even tell you in words How many times you’ve saved this heart

I will take your precious hand And show you something more than dreams Together, we’ll take my silent wish into the future You have my word

Countless times I held tight to my hopes I want to show you the future

I take that hand and now we begin to walk

Until we finally reach eternity My fervent wish is to keep heading towards the future with you That will never change Since you are the reason I’m alive

All scans are from The Archive (rad-is-more) Interview translation is ChatGPT. Lyrics translations are Defective Tragedy Blog but I changed The Mortal, Utsusemi and Two of a Kind lyrics translations quite a bit. Babylon's taboo was a nightmare because I know the lyrics are wrong on the DT blog but idk how to actually translate it properly, but I used these blogs translations also ( 1 , 2 ), basicly I was looking at 6 different translations picking the best lines .... but the only thing I'm certain of is the dorodoro line... However after hours of breaking my brain trying to solve this I got an epiphany that these lyrics are about the black eyes that reflect both the black murky depths of his soul as well as observing the society at large... something like that

[smashjewels]

I’ve been on that Webtoon grind and I wanna rant about one of my favorites currently

The Guy Upstairs - Rozy is a Fantastic Character and I Love Her

Note: as of writing this Episode 45 has just released, so spoiler warning for everything up to that point

One of my favorite parts of this story is the protagonist, Rozy. Her characterization at the beginning of the story makes her seem like the “normal” one. As in contrast to Hawa and of course, Adam, the reader is led to believe that Rozy is a normal person who just happened to witness a murder.

We get introduced to her as kind of a loner, but this only reinforces a cooler, more levelheaded and logical front that the reader initially sees Rozy as. She’s a kind of reflection of cool, calm, collected detectives you see in detective novels or shows.

However, we also see her as just a normal person, her relationship with Hawa and her banter with Ravi reinforces this. So we get two sides of Rozy, one that makes her relatable to the audience and one that makes her a compelling protagonist.

Her being relatable to the audience is what makes The Guy Upstairs a thriller, rather than a mystery. She’s put into a very terrifying situation, witnessing a murder, and knowing that the murderer lives so close to her. Rozy takes matters into her own hands by putting up security for herself, she’s prepared because she *knows* there is a clear and present threat to her.

but this changes so drastically when Hawa gets involved. Hawa is her own person, Rozy knows this but is also aware of how naive she can be. Rozy does whatever she can in order to protect Hawa, but Hawa’s trusting nature and Adam’s desire to mess with Rozy makes Hawa ultimately feel as if she can’t be honest with Rozy because of Rozy’s cautious behavior.

This begins a character shift in Rozy, at least to the audience. Rozy is slowly losing her control over everything happening. She can attempt to protect herself the best she can, but she can’t control Hawa’s actions. This is when we get to see one of Rozy’s major weaknesses and my favorite part about her.

Rozy *is* paranoid, she’s clearly very cautious for a reasons outside of the events with Adam. Rozy is paranoid about many things, from one event she draws seemingly logical conclusions on her own, and act accordingly to them. This works together with Rozy’s other flaw, her closed off nature.

In Rozy’s mind, her conclusion drawn from one event is a definite possibility. One that she has to plan for and go forward from there. But she doesn’t bring anyone along with her, she won’t because this is the truth she’s living in.

Due to her paranoia, she ends up isolating herself. The only person she reaches out to (Alex) for help is because she recognizes her limitations. It is because her series of events that she believes will happen are realistic in these limitations is what holds Rozy back from confiding in others.

This isolation and loneliness, with the one person she cares about so much at risk of being taken away, her fear of losing Hawa ultimately pushes Hawa away and what amplifies one of the scariest experiences when it comes to the mind.

Not knowing if you can trust yourself.

Rozy, a character whose actions have been dictated by her interpretation of events, can’t even be completely sure whether that event even happened. Rozy’s paranoia becomes detrimental to her in this phase. When you cannot trust yourself, it makes an infinite amount of possibilities that are “logical”. As someone as cautious as Rozy, assuming the worst is the safest option she can choose.

Rozy hears that Hawa hates people who see the worst in others and internalizes that as Hawa hating her, combined with the tense conversation they had previously as well as this comment being directed towards her, logically, it makes sense for Rozy to assume this. Rozy ended up losing Hawa because if everything went how she thought it would go, this would’ve never happened. But Hawa is her own person who is ignorant to the reality that Rozy sees.

Rozy has a choice to make, with Hawa becoming closer to Adam, it makes it all that much easier for Adam to kill Hawa. Rozy’s passive aggression towards Adam will not work because it only takes one night for Hawa to be gone. She either has to take matters into her own hands, trust herself and the events she witnessed, even when everyone around her tells her that this couldn’t have happened, when she has no evidence to suggest otherwise, when her situation that night was hazy, she realizes the amount of doubt she really has.

If she decides to doubt herself then she can’t trust anything anymore. She doesn’t trust other people, she can’t trust herself. In fact, if she’s wrong, she’s been the one who’s been a bad person. She alone was the one who ruined her relationship with Hawa and there’s no excuse she can hide behind. She’ll truly be broken as a person with no one to turn to, because within her own paranoid mind, she had already lost the one person who would listen.

And this is exactly the type of person that is perfect for Adam’s mind games. As he, himself, was potentially this kind of person.

I’ll elaborate on that if I ever decide to make a follow-up on this. I mostly focused on Rozy’s relationship with Hawa but her connection to other characters is also interesting and warrants a post in of itself!

This is all my interpretation of the story and characters, Rozy resonates with me a lot because I’m very experienced in gaslighting myself. I wanted to write out my thoughts and talk about stories that I think deserve more love!!

Anyway read My Deepest Secret and The Guy Upstairs if you haven’t already, both really wonderful and I may compare the protagonists of the two later on if I feel like it. I’m not opposed to talking about other webtoons either, this one’s characters just resonated with me in particular.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Working For Mr. House After Hoover Dam

➼ Word Count » 0.4k ➼ Warnings » Spoilers for Mr. Houses ending, obviously ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic ➼ A/N » I made this in honor of Mr. House's birthday, everyone say happy birthday.

Mr. House is gonna be silently very happy that y'all won at the dam. He'd give you anything you could ever need. You're hungry? He's sending a Securitron to get you some food. Thirsty? He's got all the water from Hoover Dam. Wanna gamble? Here's some allowance, knock yourself out.

If you ever decide to go out of Vegas and into the Mojave, he's gonna have Victor go with you, just in case anything goes wrong.

You’re gonna have to do everyone a favor and keep him in check. Since you're the only one who can technically kill him, it falls on you to ensure he doesn't turn corrupt.

He’ll still probably send you out to do jobs for him, smaller than they once were but jobs nonetheless.

Jane and Victor will occasionally play poker or blackjack down in the casino with you. They're way better than you and you almost always lose.

You’re almost untouchable with how many Securitrons House has programmed to keep you alive and kicking.

Now that there are fewer threats, House is trying to figure out how he can start sending people up to space again. He’ll probably want you to be one of the first people he sends so be prepared for something dauntless to be asked of you.

He’s also gonna try and figure out how he can keep you alive longer in some sort of robotic body. It’ll most likely be similar to how he is, but he wants you to be movable and preferably not as bulky as the Securitrons. His goal is to create something that allows you to be as flexible and moveable as you are currently.

After a little bit, he might give you one of the casinos to run. You can take whatever group of people you’ve become allies with to help run it with you, as long as none of you try and betray him.

He has a lot of trust in you after the war and will be completely transparent with all his future plans for Vegas. He wants you to be honest about what parts you think will and won’t work.

Even with all the newly added security, there are still gonna be people who think that they could overtake Vegas. Mr. House would probably put you in charge of what happens to them as he doesn't really care that much.

Sometimes he'll invite you up to the penthouse where he is and tell you about the pre-war world. He refuses to admit it, but he really likes talking about what Nevada used to be like.

He especially likes talking about the places featured in his snow globe collection.

An all-around good time?? What more could you possibly ask for?