#fuck if I can draw all his tattoos. i draw that shit with my heart

[diespider]

“I do enjoy your fire, Pet.”

Go read Under the earth, I’ll remember you well by @burnticedlatte Y’all

[alnilaem]

a more fleshed-out version from the third prompt of this post of mine.

cw for emotional manipulation, breaking in, stalking, smut, babytrapping, and dubcon to be safe

simon riley/reader

-

Something is wrong. 

Your suitcase is halfway past the threshold of your front door, halfway past your new grave, when you notice the hum of salt and tobacco in the air. Discomfort licks your insides and binds to your skin so heavily that you begin to sweat. A tinny sound peals out as you rearrange your keys between your knuckles, clenching it, and step inside your flat. 

Your heels are at the foot of your shoe rack. Your coat isn’t where it’s supposed to be, crimped in a pool on the floor. Your framed photographs are all inched to the left—you know this because you committed their placement to your memory—because you feared this would happen.

Something is seriously, gravely wrong. 

You feel like you’re lost at sea. Dull-headed and impaired under the alluring melody of a blood-thirsty siren. Walking towards their call, your legs moving before your mind can, spit in the presentiment of fear the same way insects get caught in spiderwebs. Stuck, and about to be eaten.  

You trek further into your flat, following the telltale signs that someone has been here—is here. A general shift in air. The stench of stale herbs and metal. A trail of silt on your hardwood floors, that of which could only be caused by certain mud-clogged boots tracking into your flat.

Here, you pause. On the threshold of your kitchen. Your stomach turns inside out and if it weren’t for your ribs, your heart would have burst out of your chest. 

It’s like you’re walking on glass. Every thin sliver that pokes your skin, invading you, is a splinter of fear. And it also makes it so that you can’t walk away—you’re frozen in place, watching him above your stove, setting a kettle to boil. 

He hears your squeak. Simon turns around, cotton-plated in his civvies, and hums. 

“Welcome home, Love.” 

The moisture leaves your mouth and rushes to your eyes. A film of dew materialises on top of your waterline. It’s thick and pearlescent and clouds your vision, turns Simon into an incorporeal blob in your vision, turning him into a trick of your eyes that you hope will go away after you blink.

He doesn’t.

Instead, Simon rests himself against your kitchen counter. He crosses his tattooed arms over his chest, tilting his head, and bends his lips into an unseemly smile.

“How was your friend’s place?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?” You try getting your anger across, but your voice betrays your emotions. It’s heavily distorted by fear, waning, so much so that it makes him blandly chuckle. Like he can smell the terror roiling off of you. Like he feeds from it.

“How did you get in?”

Simon shrugs. “I’ve got a copy of the key.” 

“I changed the damn locks.”

“I got new ones,” he says.

“We broke up.”

“You broke up with me,” Simon snarls. “When I was at my fuckin’ lowest. You broke up with me and I didn’t agree to tha’ shit.”

“Simon–” a gust of disbelief cuts your sentence short. You grip your hair at its roots, tugging it, twisting it, coiling your face in frustration. “Simon, you need to leave.”

“You’re talkin’ like that ‘cause you’re mad at me. Give it a few minutes, and you won’t be.”

“Are you fucking insane!?” You yell. You draw towards him and slam the kettle off the stove. “You broke into my flat!”

“I had a key,” Simon says. He steps towards you, bullying you backwards until the hind of your spine catches on the cold granite of your countertop. Until your back bends over it, Simon, looming over you. “I’ve always told you to use the deadbolt.”

You bite your lip. The blood sticking to the roof of your mouth isn’t as bitter as Simon’s eyes. His are cold, depthless. 

“Fuck off.”

Then, Simon flips. His expression shifts in a whirlwind of seconds. Now, his brunette eyebrows are pursed and his lips are pointed down. His head is ensconced on your neck, his shoulder suddenly laden with an invisible weight as he kittens into you.

“Just came ‘cause I wanted to talk…” he mumbles. “One a’ my men died on me yesterday. Got early R&R for it. Thought you’d be happy to see me...”

You’re motionless as Simon clemently begins kissing your neck. You split your hands on his chest and try shoving him away, but he doesn’t move. He’s as solid as rock. Pushing himself into you, grovelling into your sleek skin. 

A phantom chain is tightening around your throat. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what you can say. You feel that with any words that poise themselves on your tongue, Simon won’t take kindly to. 

“Simon… I’m sorry for you. I really am,” you slip out from under him and step back. “But this isn’t the way to go about it. We’re adults. And I’m asking you to leave.”

Simon raises his head, lukewarm. He stares at you through his half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily, clenching his fist around the lip of your countertop. Thickly, you swallow. You fidget with your cardigan and hope it will offset the discomfort hanging in the air. Simon takes a deep breath, sucking it all up—the discomfort, the presentiment—and you expect his huffing to precede an explosive reaction, but it doesn’t come. He just slips himself off the island and turns around, quiet when he speaks.

“Yeah,” he hums. “My old man didn’t want anythin’ to do with me, so why should you?” 

Your eyes widen. Though you’ve spent so much time trying to bury it, trying to familiarise yourself with Simon’s sick gambits, a pang of guilt hits you hard.

“Don’t say things like that,” you point an accusing finger to his chest, “it isn’t fair.” 

“No, no,” he grumbles. “Makes sense, does’n’it? My old man walked out on me, so I should handle you walking out on me, too.”

Simon shudders with a long breath. He slaps his face into his hands, and it’s at this point, does your knee-jerk impulse to comfort him take hold of you. The last of your even-tempered brain screams at you—he’s trying to ply you with a humanised side of him, but that side died a long time ago—but you press forward and awkwardly bring him into your arms, patting him on the back. 

“Simon, I’m… sorry, okay?” He buries his head in your neck, nips at your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t you jus’ yell at me tomorrow?” He asks. Simon slips his hands into the depression of your waist, pulling you against his chest. Against the ever-rising tent of his jeans. 

Your mind protests, but Simon keeps you close. He stinks of sweat, impairing you with it, spinning you around and pushing you against the counter. 

“Simon–”

“Shhh,” he hums, catching his fingers on the hem of your leggings. “Y’said we can talk later. ’m tired, Love. Just need you right now.” 

Any protests rot on your tongue because the wind is knocked out of you as you’re folded over the counter. Simon’s hands travel, gripping every part of you, rekindling old bruises left behind and making space for new ones. 

He ruts into you, cock fattening in his boxers and stressing against his jeans. He slides a hand over the divots of your spine and bends it around your neck, hoisting your head back, huffing into your ear. 

“You’ve no idea how much I missed y’Love,” Simon’s humping you now. Rutting himself against your ass with unrestrained vigour. He bites the husk of your ear, flattens you against the counter, and sinks a hand below your waistband. He spreads your pussy open like the shell of a fruit, pushing his thick fingers into its flesh, knuckle-deep and kneading you. 

“How’s here?” He grumbles. You whine, and he twists himself deeper. “What about there?” 

Your mind and body wrestle between pushing him away and yielding under his touch. Simon fucks his fingers a little deeper, a little meaner, into you, and chuckles when you squeal. 

He rests his chin on your shoulder, and you see a sliver of bared teeth as his lips hitch up into a gnarled smile. “Ah, so that’s the spot, innit?”

You’re dew-skinned and fuzzy when Simon throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom. Your tongue is heavy and numb and bootless against any objections as he throws you on the mattress, standing balefully at the foot of the bed. 

If you were a child, you’d hide under your sheets until he disappeared. But you’re not a child, and Simon doesn’t disappear. He sinks his knees into your bed and swipes his shirt off over his head, unbuckling his belt in one slick motion. 

He unzips his jeans and doesn’t even pull his balls out, just cups the gauze of his boxers beneath it and leans onto his hands.

A pearlescent bead of precum slips down the slit of Simon’s dick and drools onto your comforter. He wraps his hand around it, slips his palm up and down, tugging down your pants.

Your legs kick into a paltry complaint, but Simon pins your legs down. 

“No reason in fighting,” he says, rubbing his cockhead against your clit, “You’re so wet, Love.”

Simon nudges your panties to the side and thumbs your clit. Leans in for a biting kiss and swallows your moans, slapping his fat cock against your puffy, wet cunt. 

“Missed me just as bad, eh?” He huffs, setting his dick against your winking hole, pushing past your first ring of muscle and rolling at the sticky sound of your cunt spreading open.

“Simon–” you hic, latching onto his forearms. Trying to offset his bruising grip on your hips as he falls into a steady, deep rhythm. “At least wear a condom.”

He’s so thick, so heavy between your legs. Hoisting you onto his thighs and leaning over you, snapping his cock into you. He screws his face tight, pellets of sweat running down his marred collarbone. Congealing into the spindly, blonde threads of hair on his chest. Down to the wire of steel wool that thickens on his pelvis, pinching your clit each time he slams into you.

“You’re stayin’ with me, Pup,” he pants, kissing a stripe up your neck, suckling on your pebbled nipple. “Gonna gimme a litter, ain’t you? Just like we talked about?”

A little, lone tear slips down your hot cheek. Simon leans in and licks it off. He stuffs himself to the hilt, shuddering with abrupt pleasure as he skips to his feet and folds you in half, pounding into you, biting down on your shoulder.

It hits you like whiplash when Simon pushes himself so deep that you feel him swelling under your skin. He gives you no warning before emptying his balls inside you, flooding you with a white-hot come, clutching your jaw into a wet, messy kiss.

You’re blinded and eclipsed by pain as your orgasm shoots through you. The pleasure is numbing and makes you quiver, tremble, until you’re gushing around Simon’s cock and swivelling your hips to get away.

You’re shaking when he pulls back, giving your pussy no time to soften. Simon gives it a swat and flays himself off of you, heading to the bathroom. You hear the cellophane of your birth control peeling open, and the successive thunk as Simon tosses it into the bin. 

You try getting up but Simon flattens you back as he crawls in bed next to you. There’s a hand of his on your waist, seemingly benign, but tightens itself each time you try slipping away. Your sniffles are piercing and Simon pulls you close. Brushes your tears away, kisses your eyelids. 

“You’re not gonna leave me now, eh? You can’t,” he whispers, “you’re all I’ve got. You and our baby. You can’t leave me now.”

A pitiful cry escapes you. Simon takes that as agreement.

[coryosbaby]

♡ MDNI!! 18+

Thinkin’ of older! Anakin fucking in missionary <3 only your legs are lifted off the mattress as your upper body is relaxed on the bed, drool caked all over your chin and your pussy clenching tightly around him. He’s got his big hands wrapped around your thighs as he fucks into you, the tattoo with your name on his v line entirely prominent as it slams against your skin. He’s on his knees so he can fuck you as deeply as he pleases. He groans as he watches your fucked out face, tears falling freely down your eyes as you let out pathetic little whines.

“Oh, baby,” he coos, using one hand to push his black hair out of his face. “So fuckin’ beautiful. Look at that… gonna cream on my cock again?

“Daddy!” You cry. “No, no, I can’t…”

He hums, reaching down to rub your swollen little clit for the fourth— fifth?— time tonight.

“You can, sweet girl. Cmon, don’t you want me to be proud of you? Daddy’s so so close, jus’ gotta see my pretty slut cum one more time…”

Your cunt is so sore that it hurts, but when Ani says things like that in that sweet tone it makes you want to do anything for him. You reach out, begging for his closeness, begging to wrap your arms around him. He notices your pleading eyes, and mockingly pouts back at you.

“What is it? Need some cuddles? Need me to hold you?”

You nod eagerly, your tongue lolling out in pleasure as your orgasm nears. Anakin rolls forward, putting all of his weight on top of you just like you like. You mewl, your skin tingling, your heart surging. This is perfect.

He’s hitting all the right spots, and it isn’t long with his fingers flicking your clit and his teeth scraping your jugular that you cum again. Watching you fall apart beneath him, Anakin bites his bottom lip so hard that it draws blood. He can feel his cum filled balls drawing up, aching to empty themselves into your tight little womb. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips as he finally shoots rope after rope of warm, delicious seed inside you. You keen, holding his big shoulders as he fills you up. He makes no move to pull out— he likes keeping himself inside sometimes after your sessions. Sometimes he even falls asleep like this if he’s spent enough. Looking down, you simply sit and admire the way his perfect cock parts your folds and splits your hole. Anakin breathes heavy against you, exhausted from your hours of continuous fucking.

“Okay?” He asks you softly. You don’t reply; your eyes are closed, your brain all fuzzy and dumb. Anakin lightly slaps the side of your cheek. “Angel?”

You smile, dazed.

“Yeah?”

“I asked if you were okay,” he whispers against you. “Do you need some space? I can move—“

“No,” you whine. “No, daddy, please. Stay in me. Need you…”

He smiles, relaxing even more into your pretty body.

“‘Course I will.” He says, and you grin happily, running your fingers through his hair and letting out a tiny sigh.

“Wish you could jus’ stay inside forever. Wish you could jus’ crawl in me.”

He laughs, kissing your head.

“You say some weird shit sometimes, you know that?”

You shrug.

“I just love you a lot.”

Anakin’s heart flutters, bringing his thumb up to your mouth so you can suck it.

“I love you too, honey.”

[the-fluff-piece]

How they first say "I love you" - sweet fluffy headcanon

You've been growing closer and they realize: they love you. But how will they tell you?

Sfw fem!reader in mind headcanons for Zoro, Luffy, Sanji and Law

Like this one? Check out my headcanon masterlist or even my story masterlist

Zoro

As soon as he realizes what he's been feeling all along, he drops whatever he's doing (meaning his training weights fall through the floor) and goes straight to you

He stands before you, arms crossed, not caring that you're currently enjoying a drink with the others on deck. In fact, everyone should know right away, especially the cook

"Y/n, I fucking love you!" He states. When you don't answer right away he adds "that's all".

You look around into your friends faces, feeling flustered. "Love you, too" you answer. He scoops you up into his arms and carries you away explore this new level of your relationship

Luffy

He charges, wraps all his limbs around you and endlessly repeats "I love you" while rubbing his cheek against yours

That's it, that's what he does. His approach is simple and effective.

Sanji

He loved you from the second he first saw you. But he fell even more for you when you spent time together. When he sees that there will be no other for him ever again, he invites you to a romantic and delicious candle light dinner.

He's still insecure and it scares the shit out of him. What if you refuse? What if you love him, too? What if...? But he knows that he needs to fight for his happily ever after. He pours all his love into the dinner he will serve you.

There's wine and multiple courses he's serving. He's fawning over you the whole time. At sunset he kneels in front of you, saying "Y/n, I love you!"

Too bad he tells that to a lot of women, including you, on a regular basis. "Thank you!" Is your answer.

When he realizes that his previous behaviour made his confession somewhat meaningless, he is trying really hard to get his point across. Eventually, he gets an expensive ring and waits for the best moment to propose - but with life on the sunny, the moment doesn't come. After a particularly gruesome fight he was in you tend to his wounds as usual and he thinks: now or never. His bruised fingers can hardly fumble the ring out of his pocket, his hurt legs can't kneel, so he holds up the ring, lying in bed, asking you to marry him. He passes out from blood loss and general exhaustion before he hears your answer

Law

He tries multiple times, but the words don't come out. So he stands in front of you, mumbles "I...I.. uhm..." than seems to swallow hard and goes silent.

He needs a new plan. He needs to write it down for you. And he has a great idea.

When he catches you alone, he blocks your way, clears his throat - and takes his shirt off. He points to a new heart tattoo on his chest, it bears your name. He can hardly look you in the eye and his face turns crimson. You lay your hand on his chest and kiss him as an answer. He draws you close and doesn't care who may be looking.

[campbell-rose]

Helluva Rewrite (and some of my personal doodles)

Alrighty, so I finally found the motivation to draw up the entire I.M.P crew and finalize their designs! Introducing my version of the new and improved Immediate Murder Professionals!

I'm so freaking lazy so I didn't add shading or anything extra like that because ughhh. I also decided on some defining traits for imps depending on their ring, but only for the gang and the rings we've seen in the show so far

Wrath imps are larger, stronger, and spikier than other imps. Lust imps have varied bodies, but all have heart shaped barbs on their tails and leathery wings on their lower back. Greed imps are more slender than other imps and often wear jewelry. Gluttony imps are small and fast, high metabolisms so they can gorge. Sloth imps are easy to identify because they usually are just lying there doing fuck all and lack barbs on their tails.

Also, the scarring for imps is the same. White markings indicate scars. In the show I feel like it’s hard to tell what’s a scar (like Blitzo’s facial marks) and what’s a birth mark (like Moxxie’s freckles) so for my own sake, white marks are scars, black marks are birth marks or tattoos, end of story. Millie got her scars from fighting in the wrath ring, Blitzo got his scars from the explosion, and Moxxie’s freckle-like scars are cigarette burns. Should also note that imps are immune to hellfire, but not normal fire because... uhhh idk honestly it just seems more logical. 

~ Helluva cutoff starts here ~

I kinda wanna show off my own imp designs for my little demon thing because helluva boss posts get traction and I just wanted someone to see them, so if you only came here for helluva content, feel free to stop reading lol 

Okay, so I wanted the imps to all look like the same species but at the same time not at all. Essentially the imps in my series are based more on folklore surrounding them. In christian folklore imps are straight up evil, but I want all of my imps to just be little guys. Look at em, they’re just little guys. Imps were sometimes thought of as the familiars of witches, taking forms of different animals, so I wanted some of the imps to look animalistic, but it’s their behavior that reflects it more (which is hard to show in a still doodle). Also the imps are just color coded here so I know which is which, imps aren’t actually these specific colors in my world. 

Greed imps tend to bind themselves to objects that they particularly adore – in some tellings imps were bound to objects like crystals and could be summoned by their masters. So Greed imps often have a specific item bound to them that they guard with their lives.

Sloth imps are the most harmless when they’re tired, it’s when they’re awake that they become the full on imps of folklore. They’re often paid in sugar cubes and used as servants in the sloth ring. 

Gluttony imps are alluding to the fae origin of imps in Germanic folklore, having wings and being generally bug like and little shits. I wanted them to look like pixies almost.

Envy imps are the more attention seeking type who play tricks on humans to garner a reaction. Tricks such as attempting to drown people and such – harmless fun, you know? They’re actually a little based on Kappa I'll admit. 

Lust imps have the habit of snatching babies, as in a lot of demons associated with lust (such as Lilith) tend to be obsessed with babies/pregnancy. The lust imps are nearly infertile, so they love taking babies to raise, then discard them once they’re annoyed.

Pride imps are based on the Lincoln imp (in short an Imp threw a rock at an angel and got turned into stone). They’re fluffy and covered in shiny fur since they live in the frozen layer of hell. Their horns are the largest of all imps, and their biggest source of pride – like if they break their horns, they’d rather die than live with the shame because their horns don’t grow back. 

Wrath imps are based on the old art of imps you can find – bald little creatures with horns and tails. They’re the more feral animalistic imps, often acting on pure instinct and lacking much social structure. They do tend to exercise in their own way, as strength is their greatest feature. 

Anywho if you read all that omg thank you for feeding my ego teehee. But for real, as much as I hate digital, I did enjoy drawing out the imp gang, I might (keyword MIGHT) draw out some rewritten scenes in comic format the most daunting part is actually doing it lmao.

I probably won't shove my own stuff into posts too often, I mostly did it because I wanted to compare my ideas for Imps to Viv's because I think mine are better sorry not sorry lmao. I like to actually research what I'm doing and incorporate it into my art and creations because i think of it like little easter eggs for people who like the things I like. Viv's version of Hell is my least favorite mostly because everything she does feels like bible fanfiction written by a middle schooler who thinks shouting penis in class is the peak of comedy.

[itsscromp]

Ink me up

As per the recent poll, It's time to give our favourite soldier a brand spanking new tattoo, courtesy of his bestie. Co-credit:@callofdudes Word count:988

Before joining the army, You had a dream of becoming a tattoo artist, Wanting nothing more then to create amazing drawings and be able to do this for many people who wanted it. You even went and took classes on how to do so. But though you were now with the 141, You wouldn't change it either way, You still had that desire.

Finding online a professional tattoo kit, you ordered that and some ink too to mail to the base, Once arriving you set it all up. The knowledge of what you learnt in college never leaves you. As if it was all second-hand nature.

Simon you knew had a lot of tattoos, his whole sleeve wrapped in them, Maybe you could be able to give him a tattoo. So you got up and went to go find him. "Simon come check this out !!" You ushered him back to your room once you found him.

"What's got you all excited mate ??" He raised an eyebrow as he entered the room, Seeing the kit in front of him.

"I bought a tattoo kit online, I used to do them back in college" You smiled proudly.

He tilted his head slightly, a little confused "And what do you plan on doing with it ?? Give yourself a wonky little heart on your hand ??" He chuckled.

"If you'll be happy to know Riley, I have gotten solid good grades from classes and my clients" You smirked at him playfully. Having had work experience at shops too.

"Oh, I didn't know you had some experience, Good for you then. But I still don't know what you plan to do with it though" He looked over at the kit.

"Well, I was hoping I could give you guys tattoos, Maybe you as well, add a new one to your collection."

"Really ?? Is that your plan ??" He chuckled.

"Well, if you want too. I can set it up and we can do it now" You smiled proudly.

He contemplated it, He did want a new tattoo, But he didn't know what he wanted to get. "It depends what kind of dumb thing you'd try to put on my skin"

"As the client you have every choice on the design"

He smirked, Starting to consider it. "Ok, what can you do ??"

You then pulled out a tattoo book you ordered as well and handed it to him. "Have a look through this and we'll go from there."

"Your being professional about this" He said as he skimmed through the book.

"I can be unprofessional if you want" You smirked before snickering "Come on, like I would ever do something like that."

He smirked "I'm not taking any chance in letting you putting some wanky shit on my body" Joking.

"Oh come on si, Please ??" You pouted and gave him your signature puppy dog eyes. Simon knew you would pull the trick and tried to resist....... Oh but how can he refuse his bestie !!!!

So sighing and points at the tattoo he wants. "It's dumb but there is no way you could possibly fuck this up."

"Ok, let's get to it" You smiled and set up the machine "Ok, so where would you like it ??"

Simon pulled off his sweater and rolled up his right sleeve, relaxing in the chair you brought in. "I'll let you put it on my bicep... Don't. Fuck it up" He smirked.

"I won't, trust me" You created the stencil and put your gloves on, Rubbing the alcohol on Simon's bicep and placed the stencil on.

"Ok, let's get to work" You started up the machine, dipping the needle in the ink and got underway. Simon watched on as you pressed the needle against his skin gently, careful not to hurt him. He was really impressed with your skill as an artist. "You never told me you could tattoo" He watched on.

"Never underestimate me Simon" You said, not losing focus on the sketch at hand.

"I'll keep that in mind"

After about a couple of hours on the stencil. "Ok, onto the shading"

Swapping out the needle and dipping it back into the ink, You began to shade the tattoo, Simon continued to watch as you worked, The shading making the tattoo come to life. "You're doing better than I thought you would"

"Had a dream of doing this as a career before the military, It was just hard to find a vacant position at any shop, And I wasn't going to start my own business" You chuckled.

And after a few more hours, the tattoo was complete. "And done" You smiled.

"Wow, I would expected to have heard about this earlier, I'll admit I'm a little hurt" He smirked, shifting in the chair a little.

"Better late than never" You then pulled a mirror out and showed Simon the finished artwork.

Inspecting it, Damn you did a great job on this. He started to smile under his mask.

"You like it ??" You said a little nervously.

"Well would you look at that" He looked up at you.

"It's good huh ??" You perked up proudly.

"It's better than I had expected, It can stay on my skin"

"That's the point of a tattoo" You snickered.

"Yeah but this doesn't look like crap" He smiled and inspected it again.

You were insanely proud of your work.

"You know... Even if it looked like shit, I'd still like it. Because you made it, And it looked pretty cool I wont lie."

"Yeah ??"

"Yeah, I like it a lot, Mostly cause you put it there"

Y/n was so happy Simon loved his brand new tattoo, You soon became his artist after that, Always coming up with new designs for him, The kit was a very well made purchase.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[lixzey]

Letters.

tw: mentions of self harm and self hate

The Ninth Letter. 

It was a long shot, but Timothée knew he had to. He had to find her. It surprised him, just how much he cared for this girl. He didn't know her, but he was desperate to find her—to understand her. Timothée felt a sense of loyalty to her, vowing to finish her letters one by one—and not skipping to the end. Sure, he could save a lot of time if he'd just go on and skip to the last letter. But that felt like betraying Y/N—as if it was skipping to know the person who'd poured her heart out in the last eight letters. 

Timothée sighed, before closing his laptop and putting it away. He was in a meeting with the private investigator he had just hired two days ago. The trail was undoubtedly cold—because the only clue they had was the stamps on Y/N's letters. Still, the young actor wasn't going to give up that easily. He picked up the next letter and ripped it open. It was dated July 27th, 2023. 

Dear Timothée, 

Don't kill the butterfly,

That's what I heard the girl whispering beside me while I waited outside of my therapist's office. It was a year ago, when I started with Julie. I'd been staring at her, not realizing she was muttering something onto her shaking hands. A whisper, so quiet that I would've missed it if I hadn't been looking at her like an animal at a zoo. She was repeating it again and again, “Don't kill the butterfly.” like some sort of mantra. 

At first, it seemed strange. Because she had a butterfly drawn in black ink on the back of her hand—it wasn't a tattoo—it was smudged, clearly drawn on with a pen. It wasn't until I asked her and realized what the butterfly was. 

It's called The Butterfly Effect, and it's to help people who self harm—people like me. The idea is that every time a person wants to cut, they would draw a butterfly on their wrist and name it after a loved one. You have to let the butterfly fade, and if you cut, the butterfly dies. 

I felt terrible. I've been killing the butterfly, over and over again. 

The next session I had, I asked Julie about the girl—her name was Jane—and when I realized what had happened to her…..Let's just say, I haven't seen anyone so brave. 

I feel like a mistake. A waste of space. If I was brave enough, I'd already done it, but I hadn't. Who knows? Maybe someday, I can and I'll be free from all the bullshit of my life. Or, I'm just taking my time. 

Why am I even still writing to you? I feel like an idiot, wasting my money to get stamps, to send these fucking letters you won't ever read. But what if you are? Maybe you're reading my letters, reading how my life is hell. 

Anyways, I stapled a photo of myself at the end of this letter. I know, I know, I'm an ugly piece of shit. Not like the girls in Hollywood—not like fucking Kylie Jenner. How do I even compete with her? Next to her, I look like a potato with eyes. 

Maybe, just maybe…..

But I don't want to get my hopes up. 

I don't know what to believe in, honestly.

All my love, 

Y/N. 

Timothée stared at the photo, a beautiful girl was staring back at him—she had mesmerizing (y/e/c) eyes and long beautiful (y/h/c) hair. She was smiling. As if she wasn't the girl who wrote the letters he had read. He quickly snapped the photo and sent it to the private investigator. 

Timothée didn't know why she called herself ugly. Does she even look at herself in the mirror? She was beautiful, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

“Stay with me, Y/N. I'm going to find you, even if it's the last thing I do.”

@lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad

[azsazz]

Hiii 👋 just wanted to say I adore your writing ☺️ I always get so happy when I see you’ve written something new 😁

I was curious to ask, what are some of your favourite modern AU jobs/roles for the bat boys (whether you’ve written about them or not)? Or just any ACOTAR characters?

CEO Rhys has been done a lot, but for good reason, it’s so perfect. He almost has to be effortlessly rich and/or in some position of power, like a prince, or a mafia boss.💰 I also kinda like to imagine him as a nepo baby set to take over his father’s company, but he breaks away or gets cut off, so with his very little actual job experience (as he was all set to inherit), he gets a barista job at a lil coffee shop. ☕️

Cass would definitely suit something physical, like an ice hockey player, or a firefighter, or a personal trainer. I could so see him being a gym teacher as well, imagine him coaching a kids ice hockey team. 💪🏽 He would SO volunteer to be a nude model in life drawing classes in his free time 😆 Though I hadn’t considered it before I read your stuff, I think he really fits a small town rancher too. I can so picture him in jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt, driving around in an old rusty faded red truck 👨‍🌾

Az could easily be in the FBI or something, but choosing something further away from his canon role, I seriously think he’d be an awkward computer programmer / software engineer nerd, or a twitch gamer, 👨🏻‍💻 with a secret anonymous OnlyFans or erotic audio patreon on the side. 😏 And I reckon he’d ride a motorcycle and tinker with it in his spare time, so might also enjoy working at a garage. 🏍️ I really love him in Midnight Muse, and think he suits a shy amateur artist / tattoo artist as well.

I also love the bat boy band idea I’ve seen a lot recently, where Rhys is the charismatic lead singer and guitarist, Az is the quiet songwriting bassist, and Cass is the energetic drummer. 🎶

Sorry it’s so long, I just love thinking about this stuff 😄

Hiiii!! Thank you so so much! I saw this message this morning but wanted to wait until I could give it my full attention and have my computer around, so thank you for your patience! 💙

Okay, some of my favorite AUs for the batboys? This is a wonderful question!

Rhys: Normally, I just think of Rhys as always having some sort of money/job inherited. So CEO, mafia, anything that puts him in a position of power, really, but i think it's mostly because those just reflect the books.

I do, however, love love love art school rhys. painter rhys. working at the local art supply degenerate rhys who still has wealthy parents but is trying to stick it to the man rhys. steals erasers and petty things from the art supply rhys. love him so much.

There's also something to be said about young adult rhys who's messing around with his little sister's best friend rhys. he gets me going too.

also captain of the hockey team rhys is a solid choice for him as well.

Cass: LOVE ME SOME RANCHER/COWBOY/SMALL TOWN CASSIAN. but, these are all very different. small town cass doesn't trust women, heart broken at a young age with the girl he thought was his forever. doesn't want to leave town, likes the ranch because its safe and its what he knows. cowboy cass or bull rider cassian, famous for breaking horses and backs. grumpy, gruff rancher cassian always gets me going tbh he's fucking hot as shit

i also always see him in a blue collar role like a mechanic or welder are the two i mostly attribute to him.

def something physical as well, we love hockey cass, rugby cass, wrestler (wwe lol) cass, dang i had another on my mind for sports cass but i forgot. sad. OH surfer cassian. jock type tho i can see him as. love the firefighter vibe for him too, he'd fill out the tight fire department t-shirt WELL LADIES and also volunteers for wet t-shirt contests. omg gym teach cass would be adorable as hell! oof another thought, contractor cassian ffs that would be so yummy

Az: Az i agree fits the FBI (stalker) vibes. i also like to think of him in finance or computer science too. omfg the erotic audio that's iconic and i'd def subscribe to that. hmmm what else could i see azzy doing...maybe something with music or writing...i could see him being a ghost writer of some sort and then one day his song plays on the radio and he's like hey i wrote that and literally no one believes him. something behind the scenes or where he can go unnoticed is mostly where i place him, tbh. honestly maybe even something military because he takes comfort in having a set schedule and people telling him what to do at every minute of the day. he'd fare well i think. perfect. operative because if the mission goes south and he gets captured he's not telling a soul anything.

Eris: idk why this thought came to my head but i was thinking about architecture but i think eris would be a fantastic interior designer lol. like i could see it. maybe i was just thinking about him furnishing az's new place and having a lil sparky. i could also see him as a lawyer too or something like that, something where he can be the know-it-all, smirking at them and looking down his nose at them...

Lucien: Architecture for sure. or professor. I could see him doing either of these. maybe even lawyer tbh, he would be good at that too, though i know he's immaculate at twisting stories and words so you gotta be careful of that.

Tamlin: poet? lol. professional gaslighter? jk i love tammy. maybe he installs security systems? haha just kidding just kidding. he's a tough one tho. idk why i added him but i guess also a musician but low-key soothing music, instrumental for sure...prob has a podcast where he just bullshits all day

hopefully i didn't rant for too long about this 🤭💙 this was so much fun though thank you for asking!

[bullet-prooflove]

Real: Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader

Tagging: @nu1freakshow @mortal--soul @yourwinchesterbros @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @nessamc @ritasantosworld @bl4ckt00thgr1n @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83

It’s at the first wrap party for Cara Cara that Tig seeks you out. He’s seen you around the studio before, clad in a black jeans that fit that ass of yours perfectly, ballet flats and a thin scoop shirt that hangs just right, leaving enough to the imagination. You’re the only one in the place that doesn’t have their tits or ass out, so yea, he takes notice.

At the party he keeps an eye out for you, he never gets a chance to say more than a few words to you on the day-to-day side of things, you’re constantly running round with a camera in your hand, usually up close in someone’s business. He’s not actually sure of the work you do so he asks Bobby.

“Official job is photography and videography; she works with the girls to create unique content for the website.” The other man tells him, reading through the accounts with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “That one-of-a-kind shit subscribers pay for, the stuff that doesn’t make it into the movies, special requests.”

“She ever been in front of the camera?” he asks.

“Not in the time I’ve been here.” Bobby tells Tig with a shrug of the shoulders.

That’s not a no, because the thing is, he thinks he’s seen you once. He’s got a memory for faces, that and the tattoo on your left bicep he’s caught a glimpse of a couple of times. He recognises it, it’s a unique piece. He has a thing for art and beautiful women, especially the two together.

It doesn’t take long for the party to get out of control. Booze, drugs and high-end pussy, it makes the guys a little crazy, hell, up until recently it would have made him damn right insane. He’d be the first one getting his cock sucked by that red head in the corner but he’s not here for that tonight. He’s here for you.

He finds you in one of the back offices, it’s a small space tucked in the corner of the infrastructure, away from the noise and hubbub of the party. It’s shrouded in darkness, fairy lights illuminating the coving, giving the place a sensuous glow. He knows what this is for you, a sanctuary away from the noise, his home is the same way. His life is the club, he’s there more often than not but his house… Sometimes he needs that space to breathe.

His gaze lands on the pictures you have stuck to the wall, not the usual ones you see in a porn studio but different shit in black frames, dark artwork drawn in thick pencil lines. It’s the stuff of myths and legends, he recognises Persephone, her hand holding an anatomical heart instead of the pomegranate that kept her in hell. Medusa in all her glory, stoic, beautiful and cracked, an exact replica of the piece on your left arm. The third Pandora’s jar, a vessel of smoke, death and everything else in between.

“I thought it was a box.” He says into the air between the two of you, pointing his beer bottle towards the images.

You’re perched on a roller chair in front of a desktop computer with two screens in front of you. You have Photoshop open and you’re editing the shadow on Lyla’s cleavage.

“Mistranslation by some asshole in the sixteenth century.” You tell him, before twisting in your chair to face him. “What can I do for you Mr Trager?”

You make his breath catch in his chest, those eyes of yours could bring a man to his knees. He imagines it, his hands on your hips, drawing those jeans down slowly. He doesn’t know that the fuck it is about you that captures him, but here’s something there under the surface, something a part of him recognises and wants to claim as his.

“Tig.” He corrects you, leaning against the doorframe before jerking his head towards the noise behind him. “You planning on joining the party?”

“Not my scene.” You tell him, frankly, tilting your head to one side. “If you’ve come here looking for another hole to fuck, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

“Nah.” He says, dropping down into the wheelie seat beside of you. He scoots back and forth experimentally, testing the motion of the chair. “If I wanted that I would have stayed at the party, plenty of it going on there.”

“So, what do you want?” You asked him.

Straight to the point, he liked that. He likes a lot of things about you. The way you talk to the girls in that calm, soothing voice of yours when one gets a little overwhelmed, the fact you see them as people trying to make their way through this world. The jokes you tell to set them at ease when you’re up close and personal. The professionalism you exhibited despite the fact you’ve had Ima up in your face and screaming because you’d told her her tits needed just a little more powder to take away the shine of the light. A good shoot can make or break you, you’d reminded her, holding up the camera. Get on my bad side and you can forget about all the gifts your subscribers send you.

Tig shrugged his shoulders. What does he want? It’s not the first time he’s through about the answer. The two of you have only been in the same vicinity for a handful of moments but he senses there’s something there, you’ve laughed at his jokes. He’s got a rep for being crazy, for fucking anything that moves, for trying everything once and he means everything. When you look at him, he feels like you cut through all of that bullshit and you just see him. A man, so fucking damaged that the only way for him to stay sane is to be a little crazy.

“A conversation from someone who isn’t drowning in pussy or had a cock in their mouth in the past thirty minutes.” He tells you, because truthfully that shit is getting boring.

He’s tired of fucking, he’s lost track of the women he’s given it to over the years, some of the acts he has participated in. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s a way of filling up this weird emptiness in his chest, of chasing a rush, of relieving some pressure. He’s done some extreme shit over the years chasing that high, stuff he should be ashamed of, and he isn’t. He knows there’s something broken in him, there always has been but he’s never felt as complete as when you gripped his hand when one of the set pieces took a tumble and scared the shit out of you both. The way you looked at each other and cracked up, he misses having someone to share little moments like that with.

When you laugh, it’s fucking gorgeous, like a breath of fresh air rushing through his system. It makes him feel lighter somehow, like despite all the dark shit he’s seen there’s a little bit of beauty in the world.

“So you didn’t come in here to try and fuck me?” You ask him with a twinge of humour to your voice.

He wonders if you’re disappointed by that. He doubts it, you work on a porn set with a bunch of bikers who are tapping shit left, right and centre. He has a fair idea of who’s tried to make you an offer you can’t refuse and what your response has been. He doesn’t begrudge anyone a little fun but if he’s with you, he’s wants to be the only one on your mind. The only one whose bed you’re in.

You must see something in the expression on his face, because your cheeks colour and you shift just slightly. He knows when a woman’s attracted to him, he can sense it a mile away. He’s not the type of man to mess around, he goes directly for the kill.

“Darlin’ the things me and you would do together, it would be fucking beautiful.” He tells you, bringing his chair a little closer to yours. Your knees bump, it’s the briefest touch, denim on denim but your body heat, it feels like fire on his skin. Fuck, he’s never felt anything like this before, it’s frightening but thrilling all at the same time. “I’d be so fucking good to you.”

“I like you.” You tell him, your hand coming to grip his jaw, tilting his face so that his eyes are on yours, and fuck if that doesn’t do something to him. He’s not used to being submissive like this, he doesn’t bend not to anyone, but for you he’s almost keening at the attention. It’s everything he can do not to fucking whimper. “I think you’re funny, I think you’re fierce and I think you’re loyal but I also know that you’re ostentatious and I need real.” You tell him, tapping a finger on his chest through the leather of his kutte.

“I can do real.” He promises you, his hand enclosing over yours before he gently clasps it to his cheek. His gaze meets yours as his stubble brushes over your pulse point. He sees the hues around your iris darken, your breath hitching as his lips brush over the sensitive flesh.

The way you look at him, it almost has him losing his mind.

His heart though, that’s long gone

You’d stolen it the moment you’d clasped his hand on crowded porn set.

Love Tig? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[authorautumnbanks]

Stranded With A Demon Lord and the Strongest Sorcerer (7)

Read chapter 6

At the risk of sounding cliche, Kagome's pussy is out of this world. Satoru bites his lip and stuffs his hands into his pockets. He needs something to do with his hands. Too bad his phone doesn't work here. It would be nice if it did, so he can mindlessly scroll and pretend like he doesn't want to take Kagome up against a tree. She's got on this short green skirt that is driving him crazy. He's not sure what is worse. The fitted yoga pants that show off that glorious ass or the short skirt that shows off so much skin. His mouth goes dry.

Shit. He may actually be addicted to her.

"Just curious. How many males fall in love with you afterward?" His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. He could blame the lack of Chapstick for his dry lips, but really the blame lies in the five-foot-nothing priestess who has his insides all funny acting.

Kagome looks over her shoulder. "They usually fall in love before I sleep with them. Don't tell me you're in love," she teases.

"Nah," he drawls. "Just curious is all. Not like we got much else to talk about." Falling in love with her wouldn't be the worst thing, but it would complicate matters. Satoru hooks his hands into his pockets and goes for casual. Tries to anyway. Sesshomaru must be getting a whiff of how badly he wants to mount Kagome.

He has a laundry list of reasons he should be pushing for a way home and yet he can't find it in him to care. Not even a little. He should. Kami knows he should. But Kagome's lips were wrapped around his cock last night, and he dreamed of her dancing for him like she did for that ogre.

"Sure we do." Kagome turns her head and smirks at Sesshomaru. "Whatcha think about his markings? Aren't they beautiful?"

Beautiful? No fucking way is he about to tell another male that their dick is beautiful. Kissing aside.

"Are you calling me beautiful, priestess?" Sesshomaru asks in a low tone that has Satoru's ears perking up. His heart beats harder. A little louder. And his blood. Kami, his blood is roaring in his ears.

Shit, maybe he is too horny to function. What is this, some second onset of puberty?

"You have the prettiest cock I've ever seen. You should take pride in it. Sorry, Satoru."

"Pfft, I could draw some tattoos on my dick too."

Sesshomaru glances at him and then looks away. Dismissed. Sesshomaru fucking dismissed him. He bites back the snarl. No one dismisses him. Kagome stops and bends down. Pink. Satoru groans.

She did that on purpose. There was nothing wrong with her shoes.

"Why are we going back to the village?" he asks, needing something—anything—to distract him. "Feels like we're going backwards, ya know?"

"This Sesshomaru agrees. We should move forward."

Kagome shakes her head and then stands upright. "You two just don't like Argol, who has done nothing to either of you." She runs her fingers through her hair and flicks it back. "There is a lot we don't know about this place. Why not ask the people... citizens who owe us some questions?"

"Dunno know. We did just fine yesterday." He flanks her side. Maybe being next to her will be easier than being behind her. Less temptation. Maybe.

"Okay, Satoru the Bloodthirsty, we can't go around attacking everyone."

"Strongest."

"Huh?"

"It's actually Gojo Satoru the strongest."

Kagome laughs, head back, full heartfelt laughs. She stops for a moment, looks at him, and then laughs again. He should be feeling miffed, but a grin tugs at his lips and his chest is lighter, as if a burden has been taken off his shoulders. No one cares about him being the strongest here. Hell, Kagome flat out thinks he is joking when he says it. Her soft, plump lips are sinful.

Would she push him away if he kissed her right now? Kagome looks at him. Her long dark lashes flutter and just like that, he is a goner. Pity for all the males that fell in love with Kagome swells in his gut. He should pull back. He should do a lot of things, but he wants to kiss her so badly he feels the anticipation from his fingertips down to his toes.

"What's with that look?"

"I want to kiss you," he admits. They didn't talk about boundaries or if last night was strictly a onetime thing, so maybe he is jumping the gun. But he wants to kiss her so badly it feels like he might combust. His energy is all twisted and out of sorts. Pent up. He needs a release.

Sesshomaru stares at him. Assessing. Satoru forces himself not to fidget under the weight of that stare. He wants to.

"I think you want to do more than that," Kagome teases. She reaches out and grips his jacket, tugging him close. "You're overthinking this." She slides her hands down and cups his ass. Satoru's breath hitches. He drops the yellow bag on the grass. It lands with a soft thud.

The priestess likes aggressive males, is the only thing going through his mind. Satoru grabs the back of her neck and pulls her against him as he leans down. He kisses her softly at first, but when she mewls for him. Fucking mewls. He loses it. Satoru grips her ass and lifts her up. Her legs wrap around his waist and fuck, she's wet.

"Too horny to function, was it?" Sesshomaru's cool voice washes over him and Satoru groans.

He breaks off the kiss and flicks his eyes at Kagome's lips. So puffy. Damn, he wants to kiss her again. "I'm functioning just fine."

"Not to be a buzzkill," Kagome says, leaning back. "But I'm a little sore."

Oh. Right. Satoru swallows. He's not sure how she took all of Sesshomaru last night. That was... uh, something else. Hot. Erotic.

"Do you want me to carry you?"

Kagome tilts her head. "Feral one moment and sweet the next. I can walk, though. Actually, I need to walk or you're going to have me all spoiled." Setting her down on her feet is torture. Her body slides against his on the way down. Satoru swallows again. He needs to pull it together. At this rate, they will never leave this world.

"So, what happens if we never find a way home?" He slides the backpack on and looks forward.

"Then we live here?"

"I mean...do we continue to wander?"

Sesshomaru shrugs one shoulder. "No, wandering would be hard on Kagome when she is pregnant with young. If it comes to it, then this Sesshomaru will find a suitable area to claim."

"Pregnant? Who said anything about getting pregnant?"

Sesshomaru rakes his eyes over Kagome and juts his chin up ever so slightly. "You are mine."

"Is Satoru yours too?" Kagome teases.

"Naturally."

Naturally? Satoru blinks. Hold on. When in the hell did he get claimed by the dog demon? "Wait a minute—" Satoru falters under the cool glare. "As long as we don't live in the same village as Argol, then I'm fine. But I need to get back to my world. For my students." Satoru frowns. "Everything was going to shit when I got sealed and ended up here."

"Sealed?"

Satoru nods. "Yeah... someone took over my friend—my dead friend's body to stall me. Just long enough for me to be sealed." He shrugs. "They couldn't defeat me outright, so they sealed me. I don't know if time passes the same in this world or not, but my students are in the midst of it."

"Their safety is the only reason you have to return?" Sesshomaru questions.

Satoru lifts one shoulder and then rubs the back of his head. "I'm the leader of my clan, but they'd survive without me."

Kagome flashes him a smile. "Oh, excuse me Satoru-sama."

"Kagome," he groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Don't do that to me."

"Satoru-sama," she says.

Fuck him.

"Priestess, unless you wish to be taken now, I suggest you stop teasing him."

"You said I." Kagome gasps.

Sesshomaru's lips twitch. He strides forward.

Looks like Kagome is in trouble. Satoru clears his throat. Later, when he has a moment alone, he should figure out how he's reading Sesshomaru so well. "There's the issue of the higher-ups. They hate me and will probably take it out on my students. They already have."

Kagome sighs. "Sesshomaru isn't going to just let you go. He doesn't like just anyone." She squeezes his arm. "We'll figure it out. No point in stressing about it now."

"Why does that sound like a threat?"

"If it was, what are you going to do about it?"

Satoru's brows furrow together.

"Put me in detention?" Kagome continues, oblivious to Satoru's plight.

"I don't have a ruler on me, but..." That branch could work. Maybe they can find another spot with a boulder. "We'll figure out your limits." He has a general idea of what she can handle. Hell, she took Sesshomaru's knot like a champ.

"Speaking of that, what's with the blindfold?"

"Got sensitive eyes. Don't worry, I can see just fine."

"Do you need me to heal you?"

"You can do that?" Not that he needs it, but it's good to know what Kagome can do. He's not sure if she could take out a curse since she doesn't have cursed energy, but she's plenty strong.

She probably could. She bypasses his infinity.

"I can heal myself, so you don't need to," he follows up with. Besides, he can't handle her power washing over him right now. It's taking longer than yesterday to reach this village when they should get a move on it, but damn, that skirt is short. "You know, I could make you feel better."

Kagome quirks a brow.

Satoru bites his lip and then slides two fingers up. He flicks his tongue out.

"Maybe we should call you Satoru-sama the horniest." Kagome laughs.

"You never refer to this Sesshomaru as Sesshomaru-sama."

"Are you pouting? You want me to call you Sesshomaru-sama that badly?" Kagome shifts her bow to the other side and then wraps her arms around Sesshomaru's arm. "How am I just now finding out how needy you are?"

"This Sesshomaru is not needy."

"My swimsuit begs to differ." Kagome sniffs. "Now I don't have a bathing suit. Doubt this place has any."

Satoru blows out a breath. "The lack of amenities is a pain."

Kagome hums. "You'll get used to it... but yes. I'll show you how to make soap and stuff. Can't do anything about the lack of plumbing." She groans and rests her head on Sesshomaru's arm. "What if the winters here are terrible? I don't have any warm clothing packed."

Sesshomaru lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a huff. "This Sesshomaru takes care of what is his. You fret for nothing."

"So, you and Satoru are going to play nice in case we need currency?"

Sesshomaru's lip curls back. "You cannot possibly like the brash one."

Kagome likes Argol? Satoru cracks his neck.

"Eh, Argol isn't that bad. Kinda reminds me of Koga—"

"The wolf you fucked."

Satoru grits his teeth. Did he really think the sky looked better? Nah, it looks like straight piss. Terrible. Not a cloud in sight to disguise the terrible color.

"Wait a minute," Kagome says, clearly exasperated. "I did more than fuck Koga."

Satoru coughs.

"Satoru, pull it together." Kagome gives him a look and then turns her attention back to Sesshomaru. "As I was saying. Koga and I were in a relationship. That's different. And no, I do not want Argol. If I wanted him, I could have him." She sniffs.

"Not if you want him to remain alive," Sesshomaru replies.

"You wouldn't kill him... right? Satoru?"

"Hm? Sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Ugh! You two are ridiculous. Whatever. When we get there, I will do the talking, since you two are nothing but a bunch of murderers."

Sesshomaru sniffs and then tilts his head to the left, ever so slightly. "Watch the priestess."

Why? Is there something going on?

ROARRRRR!

Satoru's muscles tense.

"Oh, that's just great," Kagome complains. "Is that a T-Rex?"

"Giganotosaurus," Satoru replies absently. It's heading for the village, too.

"Giga what?"

"A predator like a T-Rex." Satoru motions for Kagome. "Stay next to me. Don't think you can dance your way out of this one," he jokes.

"Ha. Ha." Kagome huffs. "It's going for Ebeelx and the others. We gotta help them."

"We do not," Sesshomaru says. "They should know how to defend themselves against their enemies."

"Fine. I'll go." Kagome goes to leave, but Satoru catches her around the waist. "Seriously?"

Satoru inhales. How does she smell so nice? "So, who wins? The dinosaur or the dog?"

Sesshomaru's golden eyes darken and then flash red. His face elongates as his body transforms into his dog form. There's something about this form that is more frightening than Sesshomaru's more human-like form. The demonic energy is oppressive.

Intoxicating.

How strong is Sesshomaru?

"Seriously?" Kagome repeats.

"I'll call it Giganotosaurus versus Dog, a story of one dog's grit against the world's largest predator. Can the village's protector keep them safe one more time? Or is all hope lost? Find out in five seconds."

Kagome snorts. "Okay, at least get us a better viewpoint."

Satoru presses a kiss on Kagome's neck. "Let's go."

***

A/N: Work meeting got hacked today and I know it is a serious matter, but the hacker had the name Droope Balls and I couldn't tell what the meeting was for after that.

Gonna sit down this weekend and put myself on an update schedule because external pressure works very well for me.

Hope you are having an amazing week so far. Get plenty of rest and lots of sun! May both sides of your pillow be cool.

[menofchaos]

Coco

Part VI: His Eyes

Note: I’m not sure when I hit 1k followers but I wanna thank all of you from the bottom of my heart! Thank you for reading my stuff and loving these boys with me. In other news, I'm back with our favorite jailbird and her journey with our favorite sniper. If anyone wants more, please reblog, like, comment or let me know in my ask! I love hearing feedback on my stuff and talking about Coco ofc. Gif credit to the talented @thesewickedhands and divider credit to @spideyspeaches.

Part V

Coco,

I’m so sorry our visit got cut short. I was so fucking pissed. When I first got in here, I would cause trouble all the time. I don’t really have a life outside so I didn’t care if I got extra time. I haven’t really been rolling like that for a while because I’m fucking tired of doing time. I wanna drink and fuck and be outside. Do whatever I want, you know? But one of my bunkies allegedly got in a fight on the yard and the cops assumed I orchestrated it which is fucking stupid. They suspended my mail privileges “as a precaution.” Pendejos. You’re literally the only one I talk to. They just fuck with me when they can. We were just getting comfortable :( Hopefully those dickwads didn’t put you off to another visit? Or put you off me in general? I liked seeing you. Did you ever cut that girl off? How’s your daughter? I’m working on another tattoo for you. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever and I don’t like it. 

Nyx

PS I miss those beautiful eyes

Nyx,

Ma I’m not gonna lie. I was worried. I’m glad you’re okay tho. COs are always shit. They definitely didn’t put me off you or another visit. I’ll check work tomorrow and let you know when I can come back. My first stint I felt the same way. No family who gives a fuck, friends who forget about you as soon as the cop car is around the block. When you get out, we’ll meet up and I’ll help you do all the things you missed. If you’re down. My kid is good, she thought it was so hilarious that I was worried. I don’t usually get worked up over women like that. I did cut the one chick off, sorta abandoned the whole roster now that I think about it. What are you drawing me now? I’m definitely missing watching you squirm from just looking at you. Be good so I can come back for a full visit.

Coco

PS and your drama ain’t a burden. I got you. 

Coco,

Your last letter made me feel more than my entire last relationship. Fuck. I’m good, I promise. All in one pretty little piece where you left me. Where do I even start? I believe you just offered to fuck me and the thought of your eyes during sex? I’m tingling. You were worried about me? Worked up about me? I have a feeling that doesn’t happen at all and that makes me happy. Because I don’t usually get attached easily either but I think I am. At least I feel it with you. I don’t wanna ruin this though, for once in my life. You’re saying all the right things which scares the shit out of me but in the way that makes me wanna keep going. Does that make sense? I might be rambling. I’m just happy that you’re still wanting to be around at all. You abandoned the roster?? How come? The new drawing is a surprise.

Nyx

PS you say that now. Wait till I fuck up.

Nyx,

You’re funny. Your ex really ain’t shit if one letter from me made you feel more than his whole time with you. But I like that. You really into my eyes baby? Cause I liked watching you. I’ll make you feel more than a tingle when I get my hands on you for real. You’re right, I don’t get attached. But you made a lot of sense because I felt like I was reading my own thoughts. I wanna be careful with this. With you. I’m not going anywhere. We just gotta go with it for now, see where it takes us. I got a brother who can teach you how to handle a tattoo machine if you wanna learn. Won’t treat you like a shitty apprentice or anything either. I checked my work schedule. Three weeks and I’ll be back. I promise. I didn’t abandon the roster on purpose. I guess I just got bored of them.

Coco

PS I fuck up too. So I get it.

Coco,

My ex definitely wasn’t shit. Storing my shit while I’m locked up is the nicest thing he ever did for me. Fuck, getting your hands on me? That’s what you’re gonna say to me? Remember tho, I told you no dude has ever got me off. I’m glad we’re on the same page about this. For once, it feels nice to give a fuck. Especially since I know you get me. I’ve always wanted to be a tattoo artist and learn how to tattoo the right way. I’ve done a few tattoos when I was locked up but that’s it. You don’t have to ask him if you don’t want to. I can figure something else out. THREE WEEKS?!!! :) I can’t wait. Can we hug this time? I wanna cop a feel ;)

Nyx

PS you always do.

Coco walked into the clubhouse, looking around quietly. Taza walked out from the bathroom, “Hermano,” he smiled, “You good?”

He nodded, “Yeah, man. You?”

Taza squeezed his shoulder, “All good. You looking for someone?”

“Hank?” he asked.

“He’s in the office,” Taza told him before heading to the bar.

Coco walked back outside, lighting a cigarette as he headed up to the office. When he opened the door, Hank was standing over Chucky’s shoulder with a stack of papers in his hand.

Chucky looked up and grinned, “Coco.”

Coco nodded, “Chucky. Hank.”

Hank glanced back at him through a pair of black rimmed glasses, “Bishop need me?”

“No, I uh…wanted to ask you something. Alone,” he added after a pause.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Hank said and turned his attention back to the computer.

Coco went back outside but stayed close to the building, hiding from the harsh sun. He listened to Hank and Chucky go back and forth, a fond smile on his face. The door pushed open to reveal Hank, glasses off and no papers.

“Sorry, this customer keeps calling in, wanting impossible shit. Next time he starts demanding, I’m telling him to deal or I’m gonna beat his ass,” he shook his head as he lit a cigarette, “What’s up?” 

“I just had a favor to ask,” Coco murmured, “I have this…friend. She’s a dope artist and she wants to learn to tattoo.”

Hank smiled, “Have her come in, I’ll teach her.”

Coco put out his cigarette, “She can’t yet. She’s uh…she’s serving time.”

“This the girl I keep hearing about from the other guys?” Hank asked, “Why you were so upset a while back?”

He glanced over Hank’s shoulder at Gilly and Angel, cracking jokes and fixing a bike together. He nodded, “Yeah, she wrote me again. She’s alright.”

Hank followed his gaze and looked back at Coco, “You like this girl?“

Coco was smiling before he realized it, “Yeah. I do.”

“Good for you,” he pat Coco’s back, “Bring her in when she gets out. Teach her everything I know.”

“Thanks man,” Coco smiled, “I appreciate it.”

Hank nodded and went back in the office.

Nyx,

Would you rather me hold your stuff? We can hug this visit. I wanna cop a feel too. I can’t wait to see you baby. I remember you telling me no guy has ever gotten you off, bet I’ll be the first. I’ll come pick you up when you get out. Get you some tequila, take you to a beach house and make you cum all night. Order room service for whatever food you want. Sound like a good first day? I did a few things and you’re probably not gonna like them because I know you don’t like asking for shit. But I did it anyway. My brother said he’s down to teach you to tattoo when you get out. I also put money on your books. Not a lot. Stop glaring at me, I can feel the dirty look from here. Trust me, it’s for a selfish reason.

Coco

PS I gotta head out of town for a minute so I probably won’t be able to respond to your next letter until after my next visit. 10 days.

Coco,

You did not just offer to hold my stuff for me. And you sent money! Why? You’re right, I don’t like asking for shit. I don’t deserve you. What’s the selfish reason? That description of a first day made my nipples hard. Can it be a private beach so we can spend the whole time naked? Also thank your brother for me. My bunkie and your brother (same one?) are planning on meeting when she gets out. She has way less time than me. I don’t think I could’ve waited that long, not with the way those eyes made me feel when I saw them the first time. Ride safe, come to the visit in one piece please. 

Nyx

PS you’ll get your new drawing at the visit! 5 days!!!

Coco felt much different as he went through the motions for their second visit. He knew her better. He knew she felt something too. Something more. He sat down at the table, his eyes trained on the door. They swung open and he leaned back when a different inmate walked in. He heard a loud laugh from around the corner and his heart skipped. He stood up as Nyx walked in, a huge smile on her face as she joked with the woman in front of her. Her eyes found his while she was being uncuffed and her face lit up even more. 

“There you are,” she rubbed her wrists as she walked over.

“You okay?” he asked, stumbling when she threw herself into his arms.

Coco pulled her into a tight hug, smiling softly when he felt her tremble. He rubbed her back and closed his eyes, holding her close until a CO called her name. She sat down and looked away, bringing a hand up to her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked again, a little softer as he took her hand. He felt remnants of tears on her fingers, still watching her intently.

“Even your concerned stare makes me feel squirmy,” she joked, squeezing his hand, “I’m okay. I’m happy to see you. How was your trip?”

He smiled softly, “Long, too hot. Boring. Missed you.”

Nyx pushed some loose hair out of her eyes, “I missed you too. Now tell me why you put money on my books.”

“Cause I want you to call me,” he smirked, “Don’t wanna just hear your voice when I can make it over here.”

“You’re a secret romantic,” Nyx grinned.

He held up a finger to his lips and winked. She laughed and reached into her pocket. She set a folded piece of paper on the table.

“For me?” he asked, glancing at a curious CO.

“The drawing, remember?” she murmured, “I finished it. I mean, this one’s not really a tattoo. I just…started thinking about you and this came out.”

“Really?” Coco took the paper, “Should I look now?”

She nodded, “I didn’t get to see your reaction to the first one.”

He let her hand go and unfolded the paper, his eyes wide. It was a drawing of the two of them, Nyx in a bikini, Coco in swim trunks. It looked like a photo from a beach day. He looked up to see her fidgeting nervously with her id bracelet.

“This is crazy, baby,” he murmured, “You did all this from memory?”

“Yeah,” she smiled softly, “I kinda guessed on your tattoos and shit since I’ve only seen you dressed. So far,” Coco smirked, “But yeah.”

“Good enough till we get a real one,” he smiled and folded it back up, “I love it,” he tried to play it cool but it felt like his heart was about to fly out of his chest.

Her eyes lit up, “Really?”

He nodded, “Hell yeah,” he put it in his shirt pocket, “Thank you.”

“It was inspired by your offer on my first day out,” she admitted, lacing their fingers together when he reached out again.

“Just let me know the date and I’ll be here,” he said, squeezing her hand.

“I still have a while to go,” she told him, “I get it if you don’t want to wait.”

Coco watched her body language change as she offered him an out. He tightened his grip on her hand, “Hey, what’d I say?” he murmured, “I got you. I’m not letting you rot in here. Not anymore.”

Nyx looked away before he saw the tears pooling in her eyes. He squeezed her hand again and she smiled uneasily.

“You gotta stop saying all the right things,” she joked.

“So I shouldn’t ask if you want me to hold your stuff again?” he smiled.

She laughed and wiped her eyes, “I can’t even help you move it, so no. It’ll be fine.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I didn’t ask for help. I don’t want him to pull some shit but if you don’t want to, I won’t.”

She frowned, “I just don’t wanna be a - “

“You aren’t a burden, baby,” he murmured, “I offered. And I got a team of brothers ready to help.”

“It would be nice to be done with him,” she admitted, “I just…what if something bad happens to us?”

Coco laced their fingers together, “I won’t take it out on your stuff, I swear,” he crossed his heart with his free hand.

Nyx smiled, “Cross your heart?”

“Hope to die,” he winked, grinning when she laughed.

Nyx,

Replaying the way you clung to me during our second hug. How you felt in my arms. It’s been a long time since I felt anything like this. I got all your stuff. I wish you could’ve seen his face when I rolled up 6 deep. He was pale as fuck. It was hilarious. It’s in my garage for now. My kid won’t stop making fun of me and my brothers aren’t any better. But you’re worth it ma. Gonna start coming up to see you more. I showed my kid the drawing, she loved it. She said she’s gonna ask you to draw for her too. Would you be cool if she wrote you too? You can say no if you want. I miss you.

Coco

PS I figured out why I abandoned the roster

[munson-blurbs]

For your 2k celebration: Eddie/Lover's Lake/book 🌼

Big, gigantic thanks to @trashmouth-richie for helping me with this one!

Warnings: attempted drug deal, mention of drug use

WC: 899

--

Mud squelches under your trainers as you make your way towards the lake. It’s a familiar destination; your favorite place to write. But today, you have other plans.

Eddie’s already there, waiting for you. He’s sitting on a stone wall, idly tapping his ringed fingers against his tin box. Your stomach flip-flops at the thought of what’s inside. 

Come on. Don’t be such a coward. 

“Um, h-hi,” you stutter, mentally kicking yourself for letting your anxiety seep into your voice. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

“Yeah, no sweat,” Eddie says, patting the empty spot beside him and popping open the box lid. You oblige, bringing your backpack onto your lap. “All right, I can do $15 for half an ounce.” He takes out a crinkled plastic baggie, frowning as you inspect it critically. “I really can’t go any lower; you’re already robbing me blind here.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, “‘s not that. Um, I was wondering if you had any, like, magic mushrooms?” Your face burns as you say it. 

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Never took you for a psychedelics kinda girl,” he laughs incredulously, “but, yeah, I should have some.” He digs through his stash, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“Huh?”

“The shrooms. You going to a party, or…”

“Oh.” You wipe your palms on your jeans. “I, um, I’ve been having bad writer’s block, and I heard that drugs can help…unblock things? I smoked weed with my friend, but it didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie asks, not breaking his focus. “What are you trying to write? Essays and school shit?”

You shake your head. “I’m working on a novel, actually,” you admit. It sounds silly when you say it aloud. “It’s like a horror-mystery hybrid? I don’t know,” you finish lamely, hoping he finds the shrooms soon.

But you’ve captured his attention, and his chocolate brown eyes light up as they meet yours. “No way!” he exclaims. “I love scary stories. I swear, I’ve read everything Stephen King’s written.” He crosses his heart for emphasis. “Can I get a sneak peek of your book?” He pouts adorably, melting your heart and easing your nerves.

“It’s just some chapter outlines so far,” you explain, tugging your notebook out of your backpack. It’s an assuming marble composition notebook, but it holds all of your hard work. “And I haven’t written anything in weeks, hence the…” you gesture to his lunchbox of drugs in lieu of completing the sentence.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he scans your writing. “This is…really fucking good,” he muses, flipping the page and continuing to read. “How do you come up with this stuff? Puts my Hellfire campaigns to shame.”

You laugh bashfully. “Sometimes, inspiration just strikes, y’know?” Your smile falters when he skips to the rough sketches you have for your characters. You’re not an artist, not by a long shot, but you know he’ll be able to recognize who you’ve modeled a protagonist after. “Okay, give it back,” you blurt out, attempting to grab it from his hands, but his grip is too tight.

“What, you got some naughty drawings in here?” He waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle despite your embarrassment. “Don’t worry; I won’t judge.” Before you can protest further, he finds the one picture you were hoping he’d somehow skip over. It’s a tall, lanky guy with curly brown hair that touches his shoulders. He’s wearing a concert t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, displaying his tattoos, and ripped black jeans. “Whoa,” Eddie breathes, and you’re praying to be swallowed up by a black hole. “This dude is totally metal.”

“Wh-What?” Did he really not know who it was supposed to be?

“The guy,” he says, pointing to the drawing, “he looks so badass.” He closes the notebook but doesn’t hand it back. “Could I hang onto this? I wanna read more, but I gotta get going. Promised my uncle I’d make dinner tonight, and he’ll kill me if I say that and then order pizza one more time. Actually,” he pauses, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, “do you wanna help me cook? And stay for dinner, obviously. You could maybe tell me more about your story. Might help get those creative juices flowing or something.” He shrugs like he didn’t just use all of his courage to ask you.

“Sure,” you smile, hopping down from the wall and brushing off your pants. “And you can tell me about your…campaigns?” You furrow your brows, unsure if you used the correct terminology.

Eddie narrows his eyes. “I don’t know…how can I trust that you’re not working as an enemy spy?”

You gasp, startling him. “Sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “but that just gave me a great idea. Maybe Kal–that’s the totally metal dude–used to be allegiant to the enemy, but is trying to redeem himself!” You pluck the notebook from him, flip to where a pen serves as a bookmark, and jot down your thought before you forget it.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Eddie teases, taking the book back and tucking it under his arm for safekeeping. “You’d better mention me in the acknowledgments. Better yet–dedicate the whole book to me.”

“I can see it now: ‘For Eddie Munson: thanks for the idea and for not selling me shrooms,’” you joke back, walking in tandem with him.

“Perfect.”

--

[magpiemoon6]

Love me in the dark

(chapter 2)

DBF Simon Riley x OC

Summary - Maevis and Simons prank war questions what they are to each other because strangers doesn't feel correct.

Theme - angst, smut, fluff

Warnings - trauma dumping, smoking, arguments, self hate, age gap ( 12 years), smut- voyeurism, self pleasure, pet names.

He’s still in my head, circling my thoughts every single second I breathe, those eyes haunt me in my sleep so full of pain. Dragging myself to deal with the day scheduled of course as if dear old Dad could cope without complete control, probably have a heart attack. Padding into the kitchen only for my breath to hitch. Mother of fuck. Simon’s standing, boiling the kettle in grey sweats. Just grey sweats. Sweet Jesus I’m salivating, my eyes are glued to his tattoos on his back the ink details that litter his back, song with areas of white skin. Between his shoulder blades is an interactive drawing of an angel with tattered wings that spread the blades of his shoulders. I’m physically choking on air while I stare, I can't stop.

And then it clicks, in a childish fit last night- at 2 in the fucking morning when his face was making me weak in the knees and electrocuting my skin- I decided to act like a spoiled child. Stomping into the kitchen, my glare zoning into the kitchen where he stood making tea only a few hours ago, I quickly ripped the sugar container from its place, dumping the contents in a spare bowl. My fingers search for the salt. His words about me being a daddies girl as if he knows our relationship, the fact ‘daddy’ left with no answers because it was easier than admitting his career destroyed our relationship and the phone doesnt go both ways when your fucking ten.

I rip off the salt lid and pour it into the original sugar jar and then pour the sugar into the salt container. Cleaning the mess in a haze of glee and popping it all back I practically hopped into my room. 

Shit do i tell him? Yes, that's the mature thing someone my age, with a big girl job, would do.

“Princess if you stare at my back any harder it's gonna leave a mark,” he teases, turning around as he stirs his tea smugly. The smirk on his face angers me to unrivalled levels, but also forces me to pull together from the nickname. Of course he fucking notices this but can’t seem to notice a car moving. Fuck it, he can drink the salty tea.

Simons pouring unknowingly salt into his tea as I turn back to my room and yell out.

“Enjoy your tea Simon!” I sprint the second I’m out of his view, locking my door instantly.

It doesn’t take long for me to hear my name being bellowed by Simon

“Maevis get your ass out here now!” He practically threatens standing in front of my door.

“Sorry Simy can't pop in the shower, need anything?” inquiring as innocently as I can. I'm dying inside knowing the hissy fit this man is about to pull.

I begin to undress for the shower when I hear him.

“Maevis.”  I see Simon as I peek out of the shower. “Simon.”I'm waiting to see what he will do.

“Now Maevis.” “No thank you I’d rather not,” I quip and slam the shower for him to hear and carry on. 

Fuck him.

Simon’s pov- 

She is nothing like her father, she's reckless and childish, changing the sugar for salt? Is she 10 years old for the love of fuck.

The buzz of voices in the garden as people socialise, moving in fluttery movements unsure of who to chat about their waiting for the crappy wine to be soaked up and the fuzz of being drunk fogs their fears of being judged. I remain in a corner, feeling the rose thorn prick me ever so gently. I observe the guests hop from one group to the next, wondering how I ended up here. I'm here because my ex-captain when I was a recruit helped me out, and now I'm here as his best man around people I don't know asking questions i dont want and having to see her. 

The air smells like the nearby vineyard filling my head with the sweetness, the bitterness from the salt is still on my tongue even with the whiskey. my eyes scan the groups of people and the moment my eyes land on her finally my mind is consumed by her once again. She is the most beautiful person I've ever seen. The green dress hugs her curves with a side slit showing the thigh tattoo that curls its way on her flesh, inked flowers. pretty. My eyes rise to dress, my god. My eyes nearly fall out when she turns around to talk to someone. In her hair her body again. I'm stuck and for the first time in  my life I'm flustered, until she smiles slightly and sticks her tounge out at me. All those thoughts of her die and leave me remembering how childish she is. 

Still watching her, she turns her body back to the stranger laughing and it warms a part of me I don’t want to think about, her chatter distracts me from her now pointing her finger at me and moving away pushing the stranger in my direction. For fuck sakes Maevis, wanna play? Let's play princess.

Maevis pov:

God he’s gorgeous, the white linen shirt he has on is open at the top and cuffed at his elbows showing off those tattoos but catching him staring at me is making me force my legs together from the warmth that is developing. ive pushed a very enthusiastic old lady towards him hoping to push his temper if it meant he’ll come find me and tell me off.

Walking away, weaving through the herds of people and reaching an outer corner to hide where the sun warms my skin and calms my mind. Until I hear my father, I love him but when I see him it's like a slap in the face. I want to scream at him and cry and ask the questions the child in me wants answers to but I can't so I turn and smile. 

“Darling, why are you here? Come, I have people for you to meet!” pulling me by my elbow to follow him to the gaggle of older men who make me feel sick with their stares. I'm used to it, it doesn't take a genius to work out why but god it still makes me feel ill. They start to speak to me asking all the questions that all have the same underlying meaning, which is that i've filled out in all the right places to be stared at like a prized doll in the shop window. Goosebumps begin to form along my arms as I try to control my tongue for my dad and not be snarky.

A warm hand slips around my waist and I jump whipping around to see Simon dead staring at the old men with a look that could kill a man.

“I’m sorry gents but I need to steal Maevis away, and I think your wives are wondering where you are.”

I sink into his touch on my hip, it's warm and soothing. His thumb makes circles, the creeping feeling between my legs starts again and I want to hide my blush but I'm frozen. He begins to pull me with him, staring at them and glancing at my father with what only could suggest annoyance and disappointment in the man. Whisking me away even when we are out their view, his hand still on my hip. His body bends his head to reach mine and moves his mouth to my ear whispering.

“Are you alright, love?” The kindness strikes me, so soothing yet shocking how the gruffness rasp of his voice holds the words and makes me melt.

“I’m fine, thank you Si “ I whisper back, catching his eyes as I turn. We are too close, so close I can see every etch in his skin and those pretty lips that I want to cover my skin with.

“Good. Now good luck,” he begins to smile as he twists my body back and pushes me back into the hoard of people.

Confusion only lasts a second when it clicks, I see about 5 ladies dressed like colourful birds smiling at me and calling me to go chat with me. Oh fuck, this is karma from before. Simon's warmth disappears from behind me and I feel my dark hair fall into my face. Positioning my hand to go tighten my ribbon I find it missing. It’s gone? I spin around checking the floor in despair. Did it fall out? But it's gone and I'm consumed by too much old lady perfume and loud chatter. 

“Maevis ? Gosh dear haven't you changed! Do you remember me dear, I'm your aunt?” one of them speaks holding me, she smells too strongly of perfume i cant breath, pulling me aware from finding the ribbon.

“Ah yes of course, how are you?” I respond too slowly because I  have zero clue who this lady is, i smile and hope it's believable and no one points it out.

The rest stare at me like a group of hawks and I don't know how to hold myself, these strangers who I'm related to and would persecute me if I mess up. 

“I'm fine sweety just at the point in my life where I move and pray I haven't pulled a muscle, it's such a shame we haven't seen you in such a long time, why is that ?” she inquires and the air in my lungs catches because the sentence in my head unravels  the second she ends her sentence.

“Oh um school and work became a priority and it was easier to stay with my mam” every word is a lie but no one is asking for the truth, they want to ask because i disappeared and i don't blame them, my heart hurted every day i couldn't see them but eventually i got used to it and time moves on enough that my brain couldn't remember their faces just the nostalgia.

“Ah such a shame but I understand darling it's okay just know that we’re here if you need us,” squeezing my arm just as much as my heart because I want to swallow up in my sadness, i feel like a traitor when I stand around this warmth. 

Simons pov:

If those fuckers look at her again I’m going to kill them, how could her father not see it? My grip on the ribbon in my hand tightens. No reasons come to my mind of why I took it from her hair other than a way to carry on our little war. 

Shoving it in my pocket panic sets in that my rage will break it also if I stare at it for too long my mind gets clouded by her and tightness in my trousers fills me with guilt. Her dad is quite literally the man I respect the most, he taught me everything I know. At the same time I see her I swear it's like she's the sun. It’s intoxicating to just be near her, the danger signs in my head go berserk like a reminder that I'm a war criminal. I've killed more people than I could count. I've got people killed, good people. I don't deserve that kind of happiness. Not in this lifetime. 

“Private riley!” my head whips around on instinct the station so far below me yet still my reaction is the same as the 17 year old kid who just joined the military. 

“Yes sir.”

“Ah shit its lieutenant now isn't it, come have a beer with me” her father calls me over to come sit with me and hands me a beer. fuck of all people to talk to me right now.

the cold bottle held in my hand feels like a fucking lifeline when he starts talking, blabbing drunkenly about how grateful his kid is back in his life, drilling into me that its his kid, she is nothing to me and gushing over her achievements at 25 fucking hell she is too young for me to want her like this im 37 christ i feel guilty. 

“It's a shame i couldn't see her with all her graduations but ah work came first, that's probably why i would never want her to end up with someone like you simon,” grabbing my shoulder kindly but my heart drops and I can't breathe. The words stick in my head painted in red, reminding me that I would only hurt her.

“Um yeah mate wouldn't want her with a bastard like me” I replied the words taste like bleach on my tongue.

“Exactly you get it kid, the shit we go through god it ruined my first marrage I was never home, not to fucking mention the PTSD from all that shit wouldnt want Maevis to be dragged down by all that shit people like us go through,” he carries on, every word is stabbing me and holds me accountable for even thinking of her as more than my ex captains kid. 

“Yeah definitely, will you excuse me sir? I need to check in on my task force," I mutter as I stand, I need to leave before he says any more shit.

“Yes go on son, thank you for listening”

“Of course sir,”  I mutter, quickly striding away from the conversation to the empty space from people by a pool.

I can breathe now that he isn't here, but the words are still dragging me into some pit. Gripping tightly the glass I drain all the alcohol the burn soothes me for a secon.The reflective lights of the pool let me reminisce about a calmer point in my life. And for a bit my solitude is comforting, I cannot hurt anyone if there is no one to hurt. Until I hear familiar footsteps moving towards me I instantly check, her ribbon is out of view and it's not, shit.

She needs to leave.

Maevis’ pov:

  Whatever my dad told Simon must have been bad from the way he so crutley left. Exiting the ladies I had searched for my ribbon where I was standing earlier, my hair is in my face and it's pissing me off, tickling my skin and making me sneeze when it brushes my nose. Walking directly into a view where I could see my dad and simon talk or more my dad yapping, and Simon gripping his glass. Just from the look he’s giving to my unbeknownst dad I think the glass was going to burst and his jaw locked, his eyes had diminished any light I had seen in them.

Staring at the two of them, I catch a glint of green in Simons front pocket, my fucking ribbon. that little shit. An deniable urge to beat him with my shoe till comes over me. Storming towards them in the most calm way a crazy lady could until my arm is caught by someone, urging me to come meet family members agin for the 50th fucking time. The old lady said how great it is that I’m finally around everyone, again. I look over my shoulder to check his glaring daggers, only to see Simon walking away from my father who is plastered in his chair.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Simon Riley give it back,:” rushing towards him, after searching the grounds to find him tucked away by an empty pool, standing alone just staring with an empty glare at nothing.

“I'm not in the mood.” he responds curtly, it's so cold, there is nothing in his voice not even wit. and all the warmth he has begun to make me feel starts to ebb away. What did my father say to him?

“Si? Are you being grumpy because of the little pranks today? “ laughing awkwardly because the coldness of him is making me panic. Did I go too far? my heart is my throat, the idea he may be so angry he won't speak to me again makes me panic and I don't know why but i step closer. His blonde hair in the sun glows saintly halo, I wish it didn't distract me.

“Why are you here? I don't even know you. We are strangers, you and I. Go talk with your family before you get seen with me,” again with the coldness that holds in my heart.

“Si….?” I question, confusion floods me. I step forward. 

“Stop. You don’t know me and I don't want to know you. You’re- you’re like some lost puppy leave me the fuck alone,” and like that those words are a spark to my anger and all the sadness and confusion is wrapped around my annoyance.

“You can say that shit but hand over my ribbon. I want it back,” my hands reach out. I step closer again, close enough I can smell his cologne and the hint of whiskey.

His hand quickly wraps around my wrist and twists me so I'm on the edge of the pool and away from his pocket. I’m too close to the edge, but the thumping in my ear as my blood rushes to my ears is because he is so close. 

“No,” he stares at me, he's so cold my heart feels like it has frostbite.

I see his eyes quickly dart to my lips, as I breathe in shallowly from my mouth. His eyes darken, it’s like I can read his mind but can he read mine. Images of me naked and him on top of me flash through my mind. Without thinking I go to kiss him I see his face turn into panic as I use all my weight to twist us back around. I try to shove him in. I’ll make him see what happens when he fucks with my feelings and steal my accessory to a kickass outfit fuck no you dont. only as his body moves to the water his hand is still on my wrist and forces me to topple into the water after him.

My head is spinning too much from the alcohol given to me all day to process the change from land to water. stress sets into my muscles and i try to swim up. 

A strong grip of rough hands does the job for me, pulling me through the water forcing my head up to the surface, gasping. I turn to Simon, his grip still on me.

“What the fuck Maevis.”

Turning to him I swim closer, my arm reaches for his shoulder to use, or so he thinks my mind reels still pissed at his change in mood and refusal to give me my stuff back. Trailing my arm down his torso now on show from the water making it see through, his abdomen twitches from the sudden touch. My eyes remain on his lips and watch as his chest rises and falls rapidly as my hand trails closer to his crotch. Leaning into his ear I hear his breathing stop completely as my hand lightly grazes his cock already growing hard. Turning so my lips are close to his ear I wait a second, my hand cupping him gently.

“Strangers huh Si?” I whisper, quickly moving my hand from him into the pocket where my ribbon is and grabbing it. Turning away, I swim to the exit. Leaving him barely breathing and dead staring at my back as I leave the pool and walk towards our room. 

Soaking wet I move through the villa to our room leaving a trail of water that I'm praying no old family member slips and cracks a hip on. 

I head straight for the shower, absence of Simon and the breeze causes me to shiver. All the fury is melting into something that warms my stomach and stirs something inside me. I need it out of my system, then I can go back to hating him.

Maevis’ pov:

I don’t wait to enter my part of the room to strip down. I’m unbearably cold and my nipples hurt from the friction of the wet dress. I hurry to the shower letting the water run till it’s scolding hot, hopefully hot enough to flush my feelings and thoughts. I scrub and scrub trying my hardest to forget him, forget how he grew harder as I straddled his hips. It felt amazing to feel his arms securely around me, that and the look on his face as he saw the opaque dress.

“Fucker.” I detest how much I need this relife. I lean my head back, closing my eyes as I imagine him kissing me, from my mouth to my tits. I slowly creep my hand down between my legs sighing in relief. I imagine him clearly on his knees slowly parting my legs and looking up at me through his eyelashes. Feeling his hands grip and travel up my thighs, and as he reaches my cunt he slowly circles my clit, teasingly. I begin to breathe heavier, the water blocking my nose causes me to open my mouth slightly and a moan escapes me. Dear god, I hope he isn’t back. I can feel my orgasm build up ever so slowly. I picture him, slipping his fingers between my pussy whispering, “keep your legs open for me princess. Like the good girl you are.” I push in my fingers, quickening the pace, the friction killing me. 

Simon’s pov:

In the bathroom I hear the shower running. That brat took her ribbon from me and thinks she can hide from me in the bathroom, pretending to shower? Right, not going to fool me. I storm over to the bathroom door cracking the door ajar pausing when I hear her moan. I shouldn’t. I really fucking shouldn’t, any gentleman wouldn’t peak but I’m anything but. I look in curiously and the sight before nearly makes me groan in desperation. There she is water running over her beautiful body, plastering her long hair to body. I follow the stream of water running from her head, down to her perfect tits, all the way to- 

Fuck me.

I feel the blood rush straight to my cock. Hardening instantly, at her fucking herself, moaning. her breathy gasps say something. “Simon.” Holy shit. I can’t think straight. I'm focused solely on how her hands work her to an orgasim. I envisage how magnificent she’d look as I look up at making her come with my mouth. 

“Yes, god fu-” she hitches shuddering under the steaming water. She pumps in and out a few more times and slumps down. 

It takes all the will power in me and years of training not to go in there and make her scream my name, not just say it. To not pick her up and rail her over the bathroom counter, gripping her hair so that she can see me pounding into her and see how her eyes tear in painful pleasure. 

I’m not helping my situation, I shake my head rubbing my eyes snapping me back. I head straight back out onto the balcony, I need a cig or twenty.

I knew she was going to be trouble.

[sinshinelennypops]

Masky/Tim Wright x Reader {SFW}

A creepypasta/Marble Hornets fanfic. It is mostly SFW but can be a bit suggestive (no smut, don't worry). Read at your own risk. The full booklet can be found on Ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43587606/chapters/109835188

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

Ah, yes, it's finally time for one of the manor's monthly sleepovers.

You see, ever since you became a proxy, you didn't expect things in the manor to be so lighthearted. Shopping trips, friendly family style dinners, and monthly sleepovers in the living room made things almost bearable. You've already had the pleasure of attending three so far, this one being your fourth. You've witnessed many dumb things during these slumber parties. It's everyone's chance to get absolutely hammered in participate in dumb games like Truth or Dare.

Tonight, you and the gang were already knee deep in another game. Jeff was just dared to go the rest of the game shirtless, Toby had to share his deepest sexual fantasy, and Brian had a makeshift tattoo sleeve because he was dared to let people draw on him. This was great. Everyone was at least somewhat drunk at this point.

You smiled as you looked around the room at everyone, until your eyes fell on Tim. God, he's adorably hot. Usually he's so stressed and tired, but right now he was just so perfect. He was laughing and chatting with everyone else, a soft blush on his cheeks from the alcohol. His hair was extra fluffy from all of the dares he had gone through tonight, most involving him proving his physical skills. You couldn't deny that Tim was your favorite part of these sorts of activities. Seeing him be able to relax and have fun just like everyone else was always a relief.

You blinked as he made eye contact with you, and you had to quickly look away, sipping at the beer in your hand sheepishly. For a moment, you felt all fluttery, his gaze lingering on you for just a few seconds before someone spoke up.

"Alright, alright, enough shit talking!" Jeff said loudly as he grabbed everyone's attention. "It's my turn and I choose.. Tim!" He pointed to the dark haired man to accentuate his point. "Truth or dare?"

Tim tilted his head back as he thought, closing his eyes for a moment. His mind was beginning to get all fuzzy from the two cans of beer he had already drank. "Ah.. Uh.. Dare, I guess," he said with a shrug as he ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at Jeff challengingly, smirking. "Hit me with your best shot, Woods," he sneered.

Jeff chuckled deviously, leaning forward slightly as if attempting to intimidate his poor victim. "Alright, I dare you to.." He trailed off, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on you. Unfortunately, he knew about your little crush on the manor's most notorious killer, and planned on using it against you as pay back for earlier shenanigans. "I dare you to show (Y/N) a good time."

A collective gasp went through the room, then it was silent. "What?" Tim asked softly, surprised as he glanced between you and Jeff. "Why.. Why would I do that?" Thank god he was already blushing or this would've been very awkward..

"You heard me. I see you two getting all cute and shit. I'm giving you an opening to have some fun~" Jeff teased, cackling afterwards. Tim felt the tips of his ears burning up from how much he was blushing. "Well, I mean, uh.. How the fuck would I even do that?" he asked quietly, keeping his gaze down as you squirmed a little from being put on the spot.

"7 minutes in heaven, of course!" Jeff responded while frowning. "Look, if it's too much, I can pick a different dare," he added while flopping back against the plush couch, bringing his drink up to his lips. He still seemed very smug about calling you two out. A few giggles started to bounce around the room as Tim hesitated. He glanced at you desperately, his expression apologetic. He mouthed the words "do you want to?" and your heart skipped a beat.

Your heart was racing and you felt all fluttery as you gave a vague nod in response. "Ok, ok, everybody hold your fuckin horses!" Tim growled as he put his hands up defensively. "I'll do it," he grumbled, glancing around at the group. Toby looked absolutely baffled. "W-Whoa! You're gonna do it?" the brunette asked curiously, a smirk coming to his scarred face afterwards. Jeff looked absolutely pumped. "Fuck yeah! I knew my wing man skills would come in handy!"

"Set a timer," Tim growled as he stood up, putting his beer on the coffee table and extending a hand towards you. "Oh, we will," Brian responded as he watched you two. "Go on, have some fun, we'll continue the game without you." He waved you guys off.

Tim looked absolutely flustered as he grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you away while the others giggled at your situation then got back to their game. "Fuckin stupid losers, trying to help me get laid.." he grumbled, causing you to blink in surprise. Was this all a big ploy to make you guys get close? How many people had this planned?

He dragged you to one of the hall closets and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you. "Alright, so uh.. Look, I'm gonna be honest with you. I really, really like you, buut I don't want you to feel pressured, alright? If you wanna screw around, we can but otherwise.. Let's just uh.. Sit, I guess," Tim muttered as he sat down against the wall, keeping his gaze down so you couldn't see his face. Not like you could see much of anything anyway. It was dark as hell.

"Uh.. I guess.. We could sit," you mumbled as you sat down next to him. You still felt all fuzzy, but maybe it was because you had been drinking. It felt very tense and awkward now.

After what felt like forever, Tim spoke up. "Soo uh.. Besides this bullshit, are you enjoying tonight?" he asked quietly as he glanced towards you. His eyes adjusted to the dark much faster than yours did, probably because he's used to being in places like this.

"Oh! I'm having a ton of fun!" you responded with a smile, causing him to sigh in relief. "Well, good. We like to keep morale up, especially during times like this," he said with a light chuckle. What he meant by that, you didn't know. He always spoke pretty vaguely. You scrunched your nose slightly as you scooted closer, hesitantly leaning your head on his shoulder. He jumped a little at the sudden contact but didn't push you away.

"Crazy things happen at these slumber parties, huh?" you asked as you slowly moved one of your hands to his, feeling him tense again. "Ah, yeah, all kinds of stuff.." he mumbled, thankful for the darkness so you couldn't see how red his face was. "What's the dumbest thing you've seen happen?" you questioned, trying to keep the conversation going so it wouldn't feel so awkward again.

Tim chuckled and tilted his head back against the wall. "Oh, I've seen plenty of things happen," he started as you zoned out, slowly brushing you thumb over his knuckles as he spoke. You didn't really know what he was going on about but you enjoyed the sound of his voice and his soft laughs. You smiled as you slowly moved onto his lap, straddling him. "Keep talking," you whispered when he stumbled on his words.

You chuckled softly as his voice got all shaky, but he continued his rambling as you had requested. You hummed to yourself, leaning in and gently pressed a kiss against his neck, earning a shudder in response. His hands moved up and rested on your hips, lightly squeezing and encouraging you to continue.

"Come on, pretty boy, keep talking," you muttered against his skin, moving your head and pressing another kiss to his jaw. His breath hitched and he nodded, trying to focus on his story as you trailed kisses up and down his neck, careful to not overstep any boundaries. You were both drunk and fuzzy, so you didn't want to take things too far. Besides, you enjoyed this. Just being close and getting to kiss him and make him all fluttery.

"More?" he asked suddenly, one hand moving up your back while the other caressed your side. "More?" you repeated, smirking against his neck. You chuckled and lightly sunk your teeth into his skin, causing him to let out a low groan. "Thank you.." he mumbled, blushing like crazy. You felt your face heat up, your blush dipping lower down your body at his sounds.

You pulled away after that and looked up at his drunken expression. He cupped your face with one hand, causing your eyes to go wide as he leaned closer, your noses almost touching. Your breath caught in your throat and you squeaked in surprise as he pulled you into a kiss, his eyes closing in the process. You instinctively kissed back, your hands moving up and combing through his soft hair. One moved down his face, tracing over his sideburn and jaw.

Before things could get heated, there was a knock at the door and you both groaned in annoyance. Tim pulled back from the kiss, clearly annoyed. "Fuck.. I guess we can continue this later?" he asked softly, watching your expression fall. "Orrr I can tell them to fuck off?" he offered. He moved you to the side, leaning his weight against you slightly as he glared at the door. "Go away, we're busy!" he shouted, earning a laugh in response. "Ok, have fun!" Jeff responded as his footsteps descended.

Tim huffed then moved back so he could see your face. Before he could get a word in, you kissed him again, this time more needy and desperate with your actions. Not that he was complaining. He was sort of glad that Jeff dared him to do this..

[sunnyie-eve]

5 | Family Drama

Series: Odds Together

Paring: Ryan Dunn x OFC Margera!

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Rude Family, Mention of rape

| MASTERLIST |

~

Since that night I went off on my mom, which I didn't fully remember, I've been avoiding any type of conversations about that whole day. I think everyone knew it too so no one ever brought it up.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask Bam hearing our mother start to scream. I see he was bashing through the side of the door to make a draw bridge. "And I still couldn't stay out late?" I mumble to myself going back upstairs.

"Anna!" I hear Ryan start to rush after me.

"Leave me alone." I groan shutting my door on him.

"I can open it still... What did you do to your wall?" He sees all the holes.

"That bat plus a not so sober me pissed off equals that." I point at the bat, me, and the wall. "And before you speak... No, I don't wanna talk about it."

"I heard everything you said. I followed you in. She really got on you for doing what we did growing up? The videos and everything?"

"Yes. She wanted me to be the clean cut one out of her kids. Wanted me to get good grades in school, go to college so I could get good paying job. Maybe find a good clean cut guy who knows what he wants to do with his life. Then my dad wanted this perfect princess daughter. When I was super young, I loved Disney princess and he said I could be just like them. I started doing chores at six years old thinking I was a princess. Then Beauty and the Beast came out when I was 12. She became my favorite and I wanted to be like her so that's when I started reading. Growing up I of course realized I wasn't some princess and if I was one I was Cinderella. So when I got to hangout with you and Bam, it felt nice just having fun. But I got chewed out because I wasn't supposed to be doing that. I was supposed to be doing girl things."

"I'm sorry I never noticed." Ryan gives me a sad pout.

"You wouldn't have known because it was always said when I was alone. Bam doesn't even know because he's not super observant. Just stay quiet about it. Please." He nods his head then leaves my room.

~

"We're having a big dinner. All your relatives. All of Phil's relatives." Bam tells our mom.

"You are lying. You would not invite all theses people. No you wouldn't. You wouldn't dare." She tells him.

"We want drama." He tells her and I huff eyeing him.

"Why would you want drama with your family? I'm gonna have a heart attack." She tells him so I decide to speak up.

"One, drama already happened for your don't feed Phil episode. Two, you do know everyone in our family heard about the lies Austin said right? They believed them."

"That's right Bam. I completely forgot. They're gonna bring all that crap up again." Mom tells him.

"If they do, I'll shut it down quickly." He says so I leave the room listening to them bicker.

When my mom comes into the living room she looks over at me sighing, "I'm sorry Anna. For everything. When you said I was one of the reasons you left really hurt me and made me realize I hurt you." She tears up. "I just wanted my little girl to be perfect." She wipes her tears away making me tear up.

I walk over giving her a hug, "I love you."

Bam asks me to go with him and dad to go get Mum mum so I go but when they go inside I wait in the vehicle. She was one of many family members who gave me hell for the lies I apparently did.

"I didn't hear you were back." She says as she get in.

"She got back a few months ago." Bam tells her. "Do you still not say the f word?" Bam asks her.

"No, I don't say the F word."

"What about the S word?" He asks.

"What shit?" She makes us chuckle.

"I'm gonna a tattoo that says the f-word right here." He motions to his chest.

"I'm gonna disown you." He tells him making him say you can't. "I already cut you out of my will."

"Is anybody left in your will? Jesse is right?" Dad asks her.

"No, he wasn't a virgin til he got married."

"That's impossible to do that." He tells her.

"In the olden days people did it." She says making them go off about not anymore.

"Is Anna in it still?" Dad asks making Bam say his name.

"You know she ain't after the things she did." I roll my eyes chuckling as she looks at me.

"I didn't do any of the shit." I look out the window.

"Where's your proof?" She asks making Bam say her name now.

"Proof?" I look at her. "How do I prove I was almost raped by a group of football players and that I wasn't the one who made a move on them first asking for it then decided to play a victim? I did have proof for a negative pregnancy test so the rumor about getting knocked up was proven wrong." I look over at her.

"I don't wanna argue about this right now." She looks away from me.

When we get back home I get out annoyed going straight to my mom. "Mum mum already brought it up because dad was talking about whose in her will." I tell her making her sigh.

"Hopefully no one else brings up that topic." She rubs my back.

"Hopefully no one tries talking to me." I give her a small smile.

When the whole family shows up I sit away from everyone and just read a book hoping to be left alone. When the crew got back with the food they make a big entrance with an elephant and dressed up. I watch mom freak out about the elephant trying to go in the house.

"What do you want Dunn?" I ask as he stand in front of me with an animal head on wearing wings too.

"How do you know it's me?" He asks not moving.

"Your tattoos give you away." I laugh at him so he takes his head off.

"Why you alone like you've been disowned?" He looks at everyone sitting together.

"Because I basically am. Majority of the people here believed in the lies and I don't want to talk about it with them. I already went through it with Mum mum." I close my book as he squats down in front of me holding on to my knees.

"I'll eat with you so you aren't alone. Come on, let's get food." He pulls me up dragging me over to eat. He grabs a big piece and just pulls the meat off to eat. "Open wide." He tries feeding me.

"Dunn..." I move my head away.

"Come on, you gotta eat." He smiles moving the meat towards my face again so I open my mouth and take it. "Good girl." He laughs.

"You're ridiculous." I laugh at him.

"But you love me." He smiles bigger and I stop going to get my own food then go sit alone again.

After eating I pull out my phone and listen to the voicemail I refuse to respond too. When it starts to get wild because of Vito making Mum mum fed up and leaves.

"Ryan, it smells bad." I whine as he puts the animal head on me as he sits on my lap.

"Does it? I can't tell." He takes it off of me smelling it.

"Because you stink." I laugh at him.

"I took a shower." He looks offended.

"When months ago?" I say making him hit me.

"No, fuck you."

"You love me just admit." I laugh making him put an arm around my shoulder leaning his head on me.

"You know one of the rumors was she cheated on Austin with him... Bam's best friend. I believe that look at them." I head someone from mom's side of the family say as they pass us.

"I want up." I try to get Ryan off me.

"Ignore them." He doesn't move.

"Annabelle, how was Ireland?" One of my cousins walk up to us.

"Good."

"I bet you had fun with the boys there." She giggles walking away.

"Okay, I'm done get the fuck off me." I shove Ryan off me so I could go to my room. As I pass my cousin she calls me a slut so I turn around to punch her but Ryan runs over wrapping his arms around me.

"This isn't gonna help you." He carries me into the house.

"You can put me down now." I shake my way free. "I don't care what my family thinks of me. I don't talk to anyone out side family gatherings. Never have growing up before the lies." I go up to my room hearing him following. "Ryan, just leave me alone. Go enjoy things."

"I will by watching Grease with you. It's one of your favorites. Then once it's over we can watch Cry Baby because I know Johnny Depp will make you forget them outside." He smiles taking the movie off my bookshelf putting it in.

"You hate both movies." I watch him.

"I do but I'll pretend to like them for you." He jumps onto my bed getting comfortable. I turn back to look at him laying there looking at the tv then at me, "Get comfortable." He pats the spot next to him so I lay back turning my head to face him. He turns his to look at me giving me a big smile.

[minarcana]

[Gaius encountering Valdeaulin while escaping the Praetorium]

[fun fact so im rewriting werlyt to be like, a thing that makes sense and valdeaulin is like. bestie. you dont make sense. love yourself. im sending him to a nice home in gyr abania where he doesnt spend like 5 years following a guy he hates on that guys Quest To Die In The Desert. but anyways. heres the canon shit]

send a canon scene and ill write my muse's feelings // accepting!

he had been, gaius was fairly positive, supposed to die. it would have been much easier if he had died, he feels like he's pretty damn close to dying, and it tracks if the job simply completes itself. he doesn't have anything else to do, clearly.

considering 'everything else' is on fire around him and there's no way in any hell he's going to be able to go back. realistically, with this disappointment enough to probably lose him citizenship; literally, with the explosion and fire certainly killing everyone else in the Castrum; and finally emotionally, with the knowledge that this was all some stupid-ass step in a shitty wizard's shitty game.

but since despite all reason to the contrary his heart still manages to beat, here he fucking is. alive. and he'll be damned if he's just going to let lahabrea win without even trying. so gaius hauls himself to his feet and takes inventory as he limps off towards... he doesn't know, towards whatever isn't on fire. ribs are broken, something's wrong with his back that he doesn't have the spare thought to figure out aside from it moving poorly, he can't feel his arm-- which is probably for the best considering the blood soaking through his cracked armour.

it's not great. it would be so, so much easier if he were dead. fucking lahabrea. he hopes the champion flattens him. he slogs off, losing all ability to plan anything more than where to direct his feet. there should be an accessible riverside within walking distance, and that's a destination. he can focus on that.

he focuses enough on the mechanical act of shambling that he doesn't even notice he's been found and stopped until the staff directly thuds into his chest. gaius looks at it first, gaze refocusing, then up at who's holding it. eorzean, of course, duskwight, tattooed. unfamiliar. that's to be expected. he's dressed like smallfolk rather than wood wailer, aside from the mage's staff.

huh.

maybe he will be dying tonight.

gaius doesn't have the spare energy to react, which seems to give the elezen pause on what otherwise would probably be a quick murder. there's still anger in his eyes, but less of the intent to kill.

damn.

"running back to your masters, are you?" he asks.

"what masters?" it's almost a joke. he coughs a laugh. "i'm dead. dead are free agents." may as well be.

"yet here you are." the elezen draws back the staff and hits him firmly with it. hurts like a bitch, but it's just one of many aches at this point. gaius shifts, but doesn't fall. not to prove a point. "alive."

he just doesn't have the spare thought to do anything other than keep breathing. "going to kill me?" valid question.

"you killed my family."

"i did." he doesn't remember that. it would be impossible to remember one of however many people he's killed. eorzeans are savages are helpless are in the way of the future are to be killed. saying 'sorry' would be a lie and be demeaning. all he has is acknowledgement.

despite having killed this mans family he is still, with a feeling of increasing surreality, alive. the defiance of expectations and the blood loss and the everything loss make him feel rather distant from the whole thing.

so what if he dies here. no loss.

the mage still has not cast whatever spell completes gaius's fate of dying in a fire, however mistimed it might be. gaius holds his gaze, expressionless. there's the faint dripping sound of blood hitting the leaves beneath their feet. whatever it is, maybe the idea of putting gaius out of his misery or maybe killing someone who is utterly bereft of the choice to resist doesn't seem to sit well with this elezen. cowardly of him. he exhales slowly. "if you're a free agent. if i don't kill you, where do you go?"

that makes gaius think. the only ting he had in mind was the river, where he can at least wash off the smoke and blood and see what all is ruined, and then maybe lie in the water and not-die.

not an acceptable answer. he closes his eyes and lahabrea's form appears in his thoughts. "know you anything of ascians?"

"no."

simple answer, then. "mages who gifted garlemald the equipment to destroy," he gestures with his good arm back towards the orange glow of fire and the not-distant-enough sound of breaking metal, "all of that in a moment. without their 'aid'," word spat, "this would have been beyond me. or any other."

"and?"

"i think i'd like to kill them."

the elezen shifts his gaze from gaius to the wreckage of praetorium, then back. "for your empire?"

"for me. there won't be an empire or an eorzea if they whisper at enough militaries." not for the empire. for garlemald. there's a difference.

the empire let lahabrea have that bomb. garlemald is a concept of a country with modern rule and that does not drain dry the land.

he does still believe in that. the elezen lowers his staff and returns it to his back. "i'll take you out of here, ghost, and then you'll tell me about ascians. if you leave my sight or even look like you're going back to garlemald, i'll kill you."

sure. what's the threat of death doing to do. gaius nods. may as well follow. and it is, now that he thinks about it, a reasonable goal. may as well enlist a mage if he's going to kill worse mages.

he resumes limping along, this time following an elezen who barely slows to accomodate gaius's untrained and injured steps.

if he dies, he dies.