#i'm going to impulsively post this tonight

[seasaltandcopper]

vampire hunter AU Pt 2

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Summary: Mal is handed over to Teddy by the vampire hunters.

(This one got longer than I expected, and is still mostly set up for the story and dynamics, but it's also chock full of whump, so I feel like I'm splitting the difference.)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of torture, blood and gore, violence, manhandling, nonsexual nudity, imprisonment, starvation, dehumanization, ‘it’ as a pronoun (only used by one character)

“Mal.”

One word. One name. It dropped from the hunter’s lips and snagged Mal’s attention like a fishhook through the gut. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard someone say his real name out loud.

Years, probably.

And now it spat from the mouth of this woman, this hunter, like a curse. Like some personal ax she had to grind with him.

Like she knew him.

Stiffly, Mal raised his head enough to get a better look at her. Short. Subtly curvy, but muscular. Dark skin, deep brown eyes, well-kept hair, all leather and denim and piercings with an attitude to match. The ensemble practically screamed, pick a fight with me and see what happens.

Teddy smelled like clean sweat, gun oil, and the intoxicating vibrancy of blood flowing through her veins. Life. Food.

God, he was starving. He was so fucking hungry it hurt. More than hurt. Hurt was a broken arm, a knife digging between his ribs, the burn of a cigarette put out on the arch of his foot—this was closer to losing a piece of his soul. Feeling it shredded and screaming in agony without relief.

Mal swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth before he choked on it, and tried to ignore the twisting in his gut as the smell of them permeated the cramped space. He held Teddy's gaze, sunken eyes peering out through a mess of filthy hair, but the flash of recognition he hoped for never came. She stayed unfamiliar. A stranger.

But one who obviously thought she knew him.

“Today’s your lucky day, bloodsucker,” she said, eyes flint-hard and sharp enough to cut. “You’re coming home with me.”

What?

Mal blinked. It took longer than it should have for reason to catch up and plunge icy fingers past the fog of exhaustion and pain. He’d expected—well, more of the usual. Another guest looking to blow off some steam, or getting “justice” for someone Mal had likely never laid eyes on in his life.

This wasn’t the first time the hunters had brought in a friend; honestly, the bleak-humored side of Mal was surprised they hadn’t thought to charge admission. Probably could’ve made a nice little profit on the side.

Still, the script stayed the same: they took him out to hurt him, and after they got tired or bored or felt they made their point, someone dragged Mal back to his box. Time passed, alone, in the dark—sometimes hours, sometimes days—before he was fed just enough blood to heal the worst of his wounds.

Then the cycle repeated.

Over and over and over. A horrific, never ending nightmare, but a familiar one.

Leaving with another human—no, a hunter, who knew his name, how did she know his name, who was she?—smashed every established pattern to pieces. Unease tangled like thorny brambles inside his rib cage, clawed at the back of his throat.

Mal couldn’t ask what the hell she meant; he couldn’t even open his mouth, muzzled like this. Cautiously, he glanced towards Brooks, hoping for some kind of clarification.

The hunter chuckled. Hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, and leaned back against the wall, smug as could be. The nasty glint in his eyes sent a cold tremor down Mal’s spine; he dropped his gaze back to his lap.

Brooks was one of the ones who’d taken a personal liking to Mal, early on. Back when they’d been uncommonly cruel in their attempts to wear him down, testing the limits of their creativity with techniques that still left Mal nauseous to think about.

If Mal’s heart had been capable of more than sluggish, off tempo beats, it would’ve raced.

“You got your own restraints for transport, or should I write up a slip for loaner gear?”

Reaching behind to unclip something from her belt, Teddy flashed a standard issue set of cuffs and a muzzle, then tossed it to him. “Here.”

Brooks snagged the gear out of the air. Stepped away from the wall with a sigh. Tensing, Mal pulled in a shallow breath through his nose, and watched Brooks out of the corner of his eye. The man’s black-polished boots crunched on the grit strewn floor.

The woman made a noise at the back of her throat. Derisive. “And hose him down or something before you bring him out. Smells like someone left roadkill in a hot van.”

Brooks snorted. A half-beat later, the toe of his shiny, black-polished boot slammed into Mal’s hip. It tore a pained exhale from him as he lurched to the side, the clatter of metal singing against brick. Catching himself on his forearm, Mal winced at the stripe of skin he lost for his trouble. Blood welled up in dark beads, staining the pale firebrick with more of the same.

Dead blood.

It wouldn’t satisfy like fresh, human blood would. It didn’t smell like anything at all. But the sight of it still tied Mal’s insides in knots as the instinct to feed spiked in response.

All his body understood was that it was starving, and that looked like blood, even if logic knew it was only a trick.

“Look, I don’t give a shit about the transfer order. Whatever. You want the vamp, you can have it. But we’re not runnin’ a grooming service. You want the thing washed and styled, do it on your own damn time.” Eyes still on the other hunter, Brooks tangled a gloved fist in Mal’s hair and hauled him upright. “Alright, shitsucker, let’s go. Up.”

Scrambling to get his legs under himself before Brooks left him with a bald patch, Mal twisted and choked on the words trapped in his throat. The sudden shift in gravity left his head spinning, limbs somehow both too stiff, and too wobbly to fully bear his weight.

Legs shaking, Mal planted his feet as best he could, but stayed on his feet. Barely. 

Just do it. Hurry up and get it over with, I can’t—

Brooks came to the same conclusion a second later. He hissed an irritated sigh, and released his grip on Mal's hair. Unsupported, Mal sagged on his feet, brows pinched in a pained grimace.

“Lazy motherfucker,” Brooks muttered. “Told you. Give ‘em an inch…”

Yeah, and I'd tear your throat out, you fucking bastard.

Strong fingers dug into Mal’s arm as Brooks worked to unlock the manacles. Heavy iron clattered to the bricks. Then again, as Brooks stooped and did the same for Mal’s ankles.

Without the added weight, Mal felt marginally steadier on his feet. And uncomfortably naked.

Gingerly, he ghosted bony fingers over the red, raw patches of skin circling his wrists. Black humor bubbled in Mal’s chest, and he swallowed back a laugh. Now he felt naked—without the extra pounds of iron weighing him down—but not because he hadn’t worn clothes in years.

On his list of priorities, Mal's desire for pants had dropped depressingly low over the years.

At least when Brooks cuffed him again, arms behind this time, he left Mal’s ankles unshackled. The muzzle went last, and a part of Mal hated himself for the way he tilted his head without prompting, obediently offering Brooks better access to the buckles; the rest of him didn’t give a shit, as long as it got the fucking thing off faster.

Brooks tugged it, giving the muzzle a disgusted look as no small amount of crusted gunk and scabbed tissue pulled free too. Mal barely noticed. After days suffocating in the thing, he was just glad to have it off.

He sighed. Worked his jaw, and held back a groan as sore muscles twinged all the way down his neck. Dried bits of filth Mal definitely did not want to identify crumbled loose with the movement. More of it itched under his nose and around his mouth, but the worst still matted the scruffy mess of facial hair stubbornly clinging to his jaw.

Even when they deigned to leave the muzzle off, there was only so much grooming he could do without access to water or rags or full use of his hands.

At some point Mal just gave up trying.

Gloved fingers snagged his chin, pulling Mal from his thoughts. He flinched. Not enough to pull loose—even reacting blindly Mal was smarter than that—but enough to earn an amused snort.

“Maybe it could use a hose down,” Brooks muttered. He ghosted a leather-clad thumb over Mal’s chin, squinting. “Ehh.” Then shrugged, wiped his finger clean on Mal’s shoulder, and lifted the replacement muzzle to fit in place.

Mal shivered as worn leather kissed his skin again. It sat overlapping some of the bleeding lines chafed by the old one, bright stinging pain sinking into a deeper, throbbing burn as Brooks cinched the straps tight.

At least this one was purely to prevent accidental bites—just a simple, boxy wire guard and leather straps—not like the ones Mal was used to, meant to completely immobilize the jaw.

He could still open his mouth. Take a real, full breath. Run his tongue over the outside of his teeth, or lick his lips. Talk.

This was fine. Mal could deal with this. This was—better.

After double checking his handiwork, Brooks laid a heavy palm on the back of Mal’s neck. He tensed, visceral disgust tingling down his back and making his skin crawl. Touch didn’t carry many pleasant connotations these days, but being touched by Brooks left Mal feeling genuinely sick.

The hunter squeezed once, pinching with his index finger and thumb. A warning.

“Let’s go,” Brooks ordered. “Move.”

Gentle pressure turned to a vice grip, and Mal hissed. His entire body was an ugly patchwork of marks—welts, burns, the scabbed over remnants of a recent caning, bruises layered on bruises; and his neck was no exception.

Brooks’ fingers molded themselves to older blue-green imprints, pressing hard. A sharp boot-tap to the knobby part of Mal’s ankle followed, and he cringed at the pathetic, wounded-animal sound that rose in his throat. Lurching forward, he struggled to stay on his feet and limp along at Brooks’ pace.

“I’m—trying,” Mal rasped, frustrated. He tripped again on the lip of the kiln. Would’ve fallen if Brooks hadn’t literally had him by the scruff. Shit.

The world pitched. Dark spots burst across Mal’s vision.

“Quiet.”

Fuck you.

Teddy followed silently, a dark smudge in the corner of Mal’s vision as Brooks manhandled him out of the room. Up one flight of concrete stairs. And another. Past the living quarters, and then into a part of the compound Mal only remembered seeing once: a pair of heavy steel doors that led outside.

Out, to the wide, open world and a night sky Mal hadn’t laid eyes on in years. He didn’t notice he was shaking until they stopped. Blinking rapidly, his vision strobed. He felt light, fuzzed at the edges, like he was about to pass out.

The pressure vanished from the back of his neck. Replacing it, a hand curled around his upper arm. Skin to bare skin. Warm skin, and slender, strong fingers. Though Teddy's hands were smaller than Brooks’, one of them still managed to encircle the entire circumference of Mal’s bicep.

There just wasn’t anything there anymore.

Side by side, Mal figured he stood a good five or six inches taller than her, but she probably weighed more. She sure as hell could’ve picked him up if she felt inclined.

“I got it from here,” she said, to Brooks.

A nod. “Sure. An’ listen, you change your mind, you can always drop it back off. Teddy, right? No questions asked.”

“Mm.”

“Yeah, alright,” Brooks said. “You got my number if you need anything—” A pointed pause. “Y’know, anything—handlin’ advice, someone to share a drink with…”

Grimacing, Teddy shot Brooks a look that would’ve vaporized a weaker man on the spot. “Yeah,” she drawled. “I got it.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Brooks took the hint. “Alright, alright, Jesus.”

Eyes the color of dark amber settled on Mal’s face, and this time he visibly grimaced at the attention. Swallowing hard, he tried unsuccessfully to push back against rising anxiety as Teddy addressed him directly.

“You try anything and I’ll break both your legs, and drag you the rest of the way to the truck by your hair. Got it?” He nodded.

Yeah. Mal got it. And his tentative hopes for ending up somewhere even marginally better than here dwindled by the second.

Warm, sweet smelling night air folded around them as they stepped outside. Grumbling to himself, Brooks turned and vanished into the compound without a word, not even sparing a glance back.

He’d probably agonized more over tossing out an old pair of boots. Or getting shot down by a cute hunter.

With a sharp bang, the doors pulled closed behind them. Sighing, Teddy tightened her grip. Something Mal couldn’t identify flickered across her face. Disgust? Anger? Whatever it was, Mal blinked and it was gone.

“C’mon. I wanna beat the sunrise home.”

AN: Annnnnd we're about to start really getting into the meat of it. I actually planned for more to happen in this chapter and had to shove that in the next one, and this still ended up 3x longer

Next chapter we get to meet Will, the other half of the hunter duo

Taglist: @whumpsday @writereleaserepeat @thecyrulik @lookbluesoup

[khaotunq]

🥹🥹🥹🥹

[sureuncertainty]

i’m gonna have to make my own post about autistic katniss huh

[whoreforellieandabby]

Lego date

Loser ellie x loser r?

A/n: I haven't been posting bc my mental health has gone down the drain but i finally got the energy to write this little idea

You were in your apartment piecing together a new Lego set you had just bought. It was a big project, and you knew you wanted to have a night to dedicate to it. So while your friends are off partying on a friday night, you're indoors with your record player on and Lego on the table. Dina had tried to get you to go out with them, but this was too exciting to wait any longer for. But then you hear a knock on your door. You let out a frustrated sigh. You weren't expecting a package or anything, and you texted Dina and Jesse that you for sure were not going. You open the door, expecting Dina to see her best friend and your crush, Ellie. You froze a little, not expecting to see her. You weren't super close with her, only exchanging a few sentences between each other when you were with her.

"Hi Ellie...what are you doing here?" You said.

She took in your figure. You were wearing some pajama shorts and a tank top. Ellies face went red as she spoke.

"Dina wanted me to check on you." She said.

You looked down and quickly cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Why?" You asked.

"Normally, you don't pass on free weed"

You looked back at your table.

"Yeah... I'm just busy tonight."

"You don't look busy." She stated.

You sighed.

"I'm building a lego set."

Ellie immediately got excited. You two finally had a shared interest other than weed.

"Really?" She excitedly asked.

"Yeah," you saw that her reaction was good, and she wasn't going to tease you for it. "You wanna see it?"

She quickly nodded, and you let her in the house.

You showed her the lego set on the table.

"Whoa this one's cool I don't have this one!"

"I didn't know you built legos." You said

"Yeah, well, Dina and Jesse, don't build legos, and since I met you through them and you're like Dina, I expected you not to also"

"No I like them a lot" you said.

Ellie has never been in your apartment, so she looked around the room and saw a bunch of nerdy stuff she was into.

"You never talk about all of this stuff" she said.

You shrugged.

"Dina and Jesse aren't into it, so I don't really bring it up"

"This is awesome," Ellie said while looking into your eyes.

"Do you... want to stay here and help me build this? I know you're supposed to be out at a party with Dina and Jesse..."

Ellie immediately jumped at the chance to spend time with you. She has always wanted to but was to much of a pussy to ask.

"Yes, I'd like that" she said almost a little to enthusiastic.

"Ok" you nod.

You both spend the evening building the set, listening to music, and talking. The chemistry flowed between you both. But soon enough you were both tired and Ellie needed to get back to her place because she had plans with Joel the next day.

"Will you...go out with me?" She finally got the courage to ask. Her face turned bright red and she messed with her hands.

"I'd love to Ellie."

Ellie felt her body relax and she gave you a smile.

"Ok, I'll text you the details"

You walked her to the front door and opened it up letting her walk out your door into the chilly night until you made a quick impulsive decision.

"Ellie!"

She turned around and you gently grabbed her face and softly kissed her. You quickly pulled back from her freaking out and quickly went to close the door.

"Text me!" You yelled to her before closing the door.

Ellie quickly sprinted to her car and immediately pulled out her phone to text Dina about finally asking you out and the kiss.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Midnight Masquerade - Hunter

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Hunter, and you get a classic monsterfuck.

Chapter Warnings: minors be gone; werewolf!Hunter x f!reader, kinks: predator/prey + knotting; desired fear, discussion of consent and rules, thrill of the chase, hiding, oral (f receiving), slightly graphic description of werewolf transformation, pain, unprotected PiV sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of cum, breeding kink if you squint and hold it sideways, mentions of blood, one instance of near dub-con (reader says “i can’t” and Hunter says otherwise), some aftercare

Word Count: 4.0k (i'm not even ashamed of this one)

A/N: please please heed the warnings on this one. while there is a discussion of consent at the beginning, once the werewolf appears, there is no more discussion. I will say right now: reader wants everything that happens. the fear reader experiences is akin to the desired fear one gets from going through haunted houses or watching scary movies. it costs nothing to keep on scrolling if you don't think you're the intended audience for this fic.

also yes i'm posting this on the full moon. and yes it's the Hunter's Moon. i planned this >:)

...Hunter. 

As the bottle rocks to a halt, you glance up to meet Hunter’s piercing gaze. He’s always been extra perceptive, always had the ability to make you feel like he’s seeing through you, but tonight, with magic coursing through him, his eyes pin you in place. A smirk tilts the corners of his mouth up. 

Your breath shudders out of your chest in anticipation as you let your eyes wander over his costume-turned-reality. Ragged lumberjack plaid stretches over his broad shoulders, torn in places to reveal the continuation of his skeleton tattoo. His teeth have sharpened into points, bared in a grin as the smirk on his face widens. Even his hair, usually so neatly held back by his bandana, is fluffier, longer, wilder.

The strobing, dancing lights reflect yellow eyeshine in his gaze, and you shiver. Arousal already begins to pool in your lower belly, molten heat stirring faintly. Hunter’s nostrils flare as he breathes in. The way his eyes flutter lets you know that he can smell you even amidst the press of sweaty bodies, spilled alcohol, and sickly sweet fog. A whimper falls from you, unheard by anyone except him. 

Hunter twirls a fresh shot of clear alcohol between his fingers. “Well, mesh’la?” 

“U-Um,” you say. The rest of the troopers at the table don’t even bother to hide their smug smirks. “Yeah. Let’s do this.” 

Downing the shot, Hunter slams the glass on the table, shaking his unruly curls out of his face. Then he stands, his broad shoulders and narrow waist drawing your gaze down. Already you catch the hint of a bulge outlined at the apex of his thighs. Your mouth waters, body coming alive with electric desire, and you resist the impulse to squeeze your legs together.

Following his lead, you stand as well. He tucks you against his side and leads you through the crowd. Pressed against him, your senses are flooded with the furnace-like heat he radiates, the unique scent of spice and dirt that fills your nose, the tingling sense of controlled danger where his claw-tipped fingers scratch ever so lightly against your waist. You swallow heavily. Kriff, this is going to be a fun night, and you’re grateful once again to whoever sent you the invite to this party. 

To your surprise, Hunter steers you towards the bar. With gentle pressure on your lower back, he guides you to one of the leather stools, but remains standing himself. He leans his forearm on the sticky bartop next to you, his other hand resting on the swell of your thigh. 

“Need some more liquid courage, Sarge?” you say with a teasing smile, your words sounding much more cool and collected than you actually feel. 

He barks a short laugh. “Hardly. No, I would rather keep this experience between us from start to finish. I...” He trails off, eyes studying your face before drifting down to your body, sitting stiff and wound up before him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “...want you to know what you’re getting into.”

“And what is it that I’m getting into?” you ask. You lean closer to him, so close you can feel his warm breath puffing over your face.

“An experience that requires a few ground rules.” 

You nod for him to continue.

“One: when I catch you, don’t run,” he says. 

The bottom of your stomach drops out with excitement. “‘When’?” 

The grin he gives you is wolfish—there’s no other word for it. His teeth bare in a smile masquerading as a snarl, eyeshine glinting once again. “That’s right.” 

“W-What’s rule two?” 

“If you change your mind, you fight as hard as you can. And hit the panic button on this comlink.” He slips the small metal device from his jeans pocket and holds it between clawed fingers. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stay in control if I transform.” 

Gripping the comlink with shaking fingers, you locate the panic button and, with a nod, tuck the device into your pocket. “Rule three?” 

Hunter tilts his head, seeming to look through you again. You fidget in your seat until you realize he must be listening to your body—you become intensely aware of the way that your heart hammers against your ribcage, pulse racing, and of the heat scorching through your veins only to pool deep in your core. When he refocuses on your face again, your cunt clenches around nothing at the hungry look in his eyes.

“Rule three,” he echoes, “don’t hold back.” 

He tilts your head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moan in surprise, body melting with little resistance into his touch. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough that the quick sting sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Resting your palms on his chest, you delight in the way his muscles flex and how he seems to quiver. Like he’s holding himself back, despite his order for you to do the opposite.

You break away with a gasp. Hunter nudges your face to the side and, growling, presses his nose to the pulse point below your jaw. You gasp as he inhales your scent.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he rasps, his words only meant for you, “you smell good enough to eat.” 

You bite your lip to keep your moan contained, still aware of the bartender shooting you a mildly amused look and of the dozens of people around you right now. As if he can sense you holding back—because he probably can—Hunter bites your neck. 

“Rule three,” he husks. 

“I’ll follow your rules if you follow them, too,” you gasp out. “Don’t you dare hold back, either.” 

He pulls back from you, hooded eyes meeting yours. Whatever he searches for in your gaze, he must find, because a slow, predatory grin spreads over his face. 

“Deal,” he says. “I’ll give you a head start. And then I’m going to fuck you, wherever I find you. Understood?” 

You can’t stop the whine that slips from your throat. “Y-Yes. Understood.” 

“Good.” He steadies you as you slide off the stool onto shaky legs. “Now run.” 

Your brain is several seconds behind, still stuck on the barely-contained growl in his voice and the way your skin shivers with goosebumps, but your body reacts immediately. Legs pumping, you take off through the crowd. Half-assed apologies tumble from you as you knock into people. You have no idea where you’re running to—you don’t even know how much of a head start he’s giving you. You just know you have to hide. Every instinct in you screams to run, to get to safety, to evade the burning gaze you can feel on your back even as you duck and weave between troopers.

You dash through an open doorway and skid to a halt, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you lie several choices: a branching hallway filled with doors, an exit dead ahead, or a stairwell climbing up to a second-story exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you don’t see Hunter following yet. Part of you, a depraved, wholly needy part of you, wonders how much you should even try to hide—but an even more depraved part of you urges you to make it a challenge. How long will it take for him to find you if you try? 

Mind made up, you take the stairs two at a time and shove against the push-bar so the door swings open. But you don’t step through it. Instead, you let it shut on its own, then you turn and, emboldened by equal parts thrill and desire, you brace your hands on the metal bannister. Heaving yourself up over it, you try to keep as little contact with the railing as possible. 

Your stomach lurches as you drop the ten feet to the permacrete flooring. Thankfully, no joints sprain, and you don’t feel any pain in your shins from the impact. 

Unharmed and feeling pleased with yourself, you bolt through the ground-floor exit. 

Outside, the cool night air kisses your skin and wicks away the sweat that’s already gathered along your forehead. Head turning in either direction, you frantically search for someplace to hide. There’s the crystal forest, sure—but you don’t fancy getting poked with a thousand tiny shards like the ones you walked across when you arrived. You could sneak around the building and run back to the tiny spaceport. But that feels too...predictable. Why run when you can try to hide in plain sight?

To your right, a ladder leads up to the second-floor rooftop. Grabbing onto the cold rungs, you pull yourself up, hands and feet flying. You reach the top and, panting, survey your options. 

This rooftop is barren, save for the doorway you assume leads to the stairs you leapt off. But the next building over has several clusters of chairs and tables, tucked into the shadows of a decorative art piece that twists with elegant curves towards the cloud-studded sky. 

You go to take a step when an idea strikes you. You rip off your jacket, baring your arms to the chilled air, and drape it over the edge of the rooftop next to the ladder. Maybe the extra body heat, sweat, and scent clinging to the fabric will draw his attention and throw him off?

You slink to the closed doorway, then leap past it. You really have no idea how much of your scent you’re leaving behind, or what clues he’ll use to find you, but leaving as few footprints behind seems like a safe bet. Once you’re past the doorway, you break into a sprint again. The next-door rooftop isn’t too far, and after a relatively easy jump, you stumble toward the table tucked closest to the art piece. 

As quickly and quietly as you can, you crawl under the small, square table and arrange the chairs to block your body from view. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s the best you can do. 

And it’s not a moment too soon. The door on the other rooftop slams open. Hunter’s dark silhouette stalks out. Even from this distance, you can make out the way his head twitches back and forth as he tries to sniff out your trail. Clenching your jaw, you do your best to calm your labored breathing and urge your racing heart to slow. Anticipation trembles in your limbs.

Hunter jogs to the ladder and picks up your discarded jacket. He leans precariously over the edge of the roof, searching, and for a moment you think you’ve won. 

The wind shifts. 

Cool air sighing past you, you shiver as the sweat dries on your skin. A moment later, Hunter’s head snaps up, and he looks straight at you.

His teeth shine as he bares them in a dangerous smile.

“Oh kriff.”  

You gather your feet beneath you before you remember rule one: don’t run. All you can do is sit, frozen and shaking, beneath the would-be safety of the small table. Hunter prowls toward you. 

When he makes the jump between rooftops, you whimper, scrabbling backward until your shoulders bump against the swirling art piece, deeper into the shadows. You know it won’t help, but the darkness is comforting. Cold seeps into your bones even as your body alights once more with fresh arousal. Kark, have his shoulders always been so broad? 

He comes to a stop directly in front of the table you hide beneath. For a moment, you hold your breath, and the world around you seems to freeze. What is he waiting for? 

The table and chairs scatter with a crash as he yanks the furniture away from you. 

You yelp, surprised fear thrumming through your veins. Above you, standing tall and imposing, Hunter cocks his head at you. He tosses your jacket in your lap. 

“Nice trick,” he says. His voice grates against your skin, causing you to shiver. “Woulda worked if the wind hadn’t changed.” Then he shakes his head. “Well, it woulda worked for a moment. Could smell your cunt all the way over there.” 

He lowers until he crouches in front of you. In the faint starlight, his skull tattoo stands in stark relief, a terrifying visage of death. Your lips part as you pant with need. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how good you smell,” he murmurs. His dark gaze rakes over your cowering form, his tongue wetting his lips. “C’mere.” 

Clawed fingers wrapping around your ankles, he yanks you towards him. You yelp, body stretching flat, and he uses your momentary surprise to tear your pants from you. The fabric yields with a loud rrrrrrip, only to hang in tatters from your waist. 

“K-Kriff,” you swear. “Hunter—”

He shushes you gently. “Let me taste you.” 

He hooks one claw under the flimsy elastic band of your underwear and, with a sharp tug, the fabric snaps twice against your skin. When he peels back the ruined undergarment, you both groan at the faint, shimmery line of slick that pulls away with it. 

Like a man starved, Hunter presses your legs wide open and buries his face in your wet pussy. All concerns about your ruined clothes flee as soon as he licks through your folds. You cry out, pleasure rippling through you as his warm mouth envelopes your center. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you twist the fingers of one hand into his curls, holding his head against you. Your hips rock in pure reaction. Hunter growls, the noise vibrating against your clit. His eyes pierce yours, dark wells of lust and need. Your mouth falls open as you moan. The sounds of your pleasure bounce off the sculpture behind you.

“F-Fuck, Hunter!” you squeal as he sucks on your clit. 

He drags his nose through your folds, inhaling your sweet scent. “You’re soaked, mesh’la. Did you like running from me, huh? Liked running from the big bad wolf?” 

“Ye-e-e-es!” you keen, throwing your head back as he fucks you with his tongue. Deep in your belly, the molten lava of your desire begins to solidify into something more solid, something that promises bone-melting pleasure. 

Overhead, past the art installation, you watch with hazy eyes as the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Steadily, the night grows brighter. Though your upper body remains in shadow, your legs, and with them, Hunter, become bathed in silvery moonlight. 

Hunter’s grip on your thighs turns painful. His claws press a little too hard against your soft skin. Wincing, you snap your attention back to where Hunter’s mouth closes around your cunt. A moan punches out of your chest as you watch his eyes blink rapidly, shifting from lust-blown to golden and shining, alight with an intelligence that isn’t quite human. 

He shoves himself back from you, stumbling away, his entire body convulsing. “D-Don’t run,” is all he manages to grit out before—

Snap! 

You gasp, unable to do anything but watch with wide eyes as Hunter’s body violently contorts and transforms before you. His limbs elongate, knees bending unnaturally, ribs cracking as a new form tears itself out of his skin. Fear and desire chase each other through your body; you don’t know which one you feel most intensely.

With a deep, sonorous howl, the Hunter you know is replaced by a hulking wolven beast. Crouched on two legs, the werewolf pants heavily, staring down at massive, clawed hands. Hunter’s clothes hang off the beast in rags, shredded by the way his body swelled and grew during the transformation. But what strikes you the most is his fur. Dark gray fur, shot through with white streaks, falls in a shaggy coat all across his body. With a jolt you realize the white fur matches exactly the skeleton tattoo Hunter bears—in his wolf form, the tattoo is still humanoid, reflecting the person now trapped within.

“H-Hunter?” you ask, voice shaky and tentative. 

The wolf snaps his attention to you. Those bright, intelligent golden eyes lock onto yours as a snarl, animalistic and deep, tears from him, his teeth bared. His snout, rough and ridged, twitches as he scents you. Your legs remain open, slick folds still bared and glistening in the moonlight.

Dropping onto all fours, the werewolf sniffs the air again. Then, quicker than you can fully process, the wolf pounces. His claws dig into your sides as he drags you closer once more, a startled scream tearing from your throat. The sound only seems to encourage him. Growling deep in his chest, Hunter—the werewolf—he lowers his head and licks a stripe up your pussy. 

You gasp at the odd sensation. His tongue is long and rough against your sensitive skin, but you find it strangely pleasurable. A shudder runs up your body as the wolf laps at your dripping core; the heat simmering in your lower belly blazes back to life, a raging inferno of need blinding you to the fear of what this wolf really could do to you if he wanted. But you don’t dare move within his grasp.

You fight to keep your hips still as you watch the werewolf lick your cunt. Gasping for breath, you catch sight of something—something thick and red, hanging between his thighs. 

A groan claws out of you. “F-Fuck. Hunter, please.” 

Whether the werewolf understands you or not, you’re unsure, but he withdraws his mouth, the fur around his lips soaked with your juices. You heave a shuddering gasp as he hooks one large hand under your ass, angling your body. His other hand wraps around his large, throbbing cock. Watching in fascination, you moan as the slim, pointed tip drags through your soaked folds. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Please.” 

With another low growl, Hunter thrusts into you, burying his thick length to the hilt. You shout, pleasure and pain biting through you in equal measures, as he splits you open. Walls fluttering around the intrusion, you go boneless, forcing yourself to relax. 

Hunter sets a brutal, punishing pace. His cock reaches parts of you no one ever has before, stretching you in ways that you’re sure will ruin you for anyone else. High, heady moans tumble from you with every sharp thrust of his hips, your nipples pebbled in the cold night air. One of your hands squeezes the soft flesh of your breasts, the other snaking down between your bodies to circle around your clit. Pleasure spikes within you, orgasm drawing closer as you play with yourself. 

“G-Gonna—” You let out a choked moan. “Gonna cum.” 

Maybe the wolf does understand you, because he bares his teeth in a terrifying display, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Spit drools onto your heated skin. Gathering some of it on your fingers, you return to your clit to rub frantic circles there. 

Hunter adjusts the angle of your hips by a fraction, and you cum with a scream as he drives into that one devastating spot inside you. Back arching off the permacrete ground, your vision whites out as the wolf fucks you through your orgasm. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure crests over you, until you’re sobbing from overstimulation. 

Pushing with weak arms on the wolf’s chest, you somehow manage to get him to pull out of you, to give you a moment to catch your breath and recover. The wolf looms over you, panting and drooling. His cock twitches when you reach down to stroke the strange appendage.

“Good boy,” you mutter, leaning up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. On a whim, you reach up to scratch behind one of his ears. The wolf’s eyes slide shut, a pleased hum vibrating in his chest.

Then his instincts seem to kick back in. With a huff, Hunter flips you, his nails scratching across the soft skin of your tummy. Chest pressed to the ground, ass in the air, you whine brokenly as he pushes his length into your tight heat once again. You rock your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, mind melting into incoherency as he fucks against that shattered piece of heaven in your cunt. A second orgasm begins to build in your lower belly, and you desperately chase it, circling your clit once again. 

Hunter is getting close as well. His incessant growls are steadily becoming higher, more akin to whines than snarls. His claws dig into your flesh hard enough to break skin; tiny rivulets of blood slide down your front. You don’t care, just so long as he makes you cum again. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as your body winds tighter and tighter, orgasm threatening to pull you under at any moment. In your slick cunt, Hunter’s cock pulses, and seems to bulge. 

Then, without warning, he buries himself in you as deep as he can go. You cry out, body shuddering with pleasure as his cock—swelling and knotting—presses against your walls. You cum on his knot like that, squealing in delight, nerves obliterated and frayed as he cums with a howl. Knot pulsing, he paints your insides with ropes of hot cum that just don’t seem to stop. He fills you to the brim, and then some—you can feel his hot spend dripping down your thighs where it leaks out past his cock.

Slowly, Hunter begins to transform back into himself. His fingernails shrink, pulling the tips from your body. His fur dissolves into ash, and now against your back, his sweaty skin sticks to yours where he gasps for air. But his cock remains knotted in your cunt, both of you swollen and sensitive. 

You regain the ability to talk before he does. “H-Hunter. Hey. You okay?” 

He hums, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 

“I need a verbal answer,” you say between pants. 

“I’m—fuck, I’m good.” He pushes himself off you with shaky arms. But he remains kneeling behind you, locked in your tight walls. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Not in any way that I didn’t like,” you say. “Honestly kind of forgot about the panic button. Not that I wanted to use it,” you hurry to add. “That was... I don’t even have the words. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t cut it.” 

He chuckles, and the vibrations make you both moan. Your pussy clenches weakly around him. With warm, human fingers, Hunter squeezes the flesh of your ass and rocks you gently back and forth. 

“Oh stars,” you breathe. “I can’t, Hunter, it’s too much—”

“You can,” he murmurs. His hands help you move, each gentle thrust loosening the knot still swollen inside you. “You can take it, mesh’la.” 

Keening, your hands scrabble for purchase. Fingers wrapping around his wrists where he holds you, you crane your neck to look back at him over your shoulder. His face is sweaty, hair plastered to his skin, and his lips are flushed and swollen. His eyes are half-lidded and still dark with lust. In a word, he looks debauched. When his gaze meets yours, he smirks.

“That’s it,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Just like that.” 

You cum again, preening under his praise despite the way your aching body screams for rest. This orgasm is slow, bone-deep and debilitating in its power. But the extra gush of slick is enough to push Hunter out of you. You both groan at the sensation of separating. 

“Look at that,” Hunter murmurs. When you glance back again, his eyes are transfixed on your cunt. His cum, all of it, wells up and spills out of your spent pussy. Seemingly without realizing it, he gathers some of the sticky substance and pushes it back into your cunt with his thumb. 

You hiss. He withdraws his hands, then tugs you up onto your knees and cradles you to his chest. “You did so well, mesh’la.” 

“You, too, Hunter,” you mumble against his skin. For a long while, the pair of you remain there, wrapped in a comforting embrace, until you chuckle. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks. 

“Our clothes are ruined,” you say. “How are we supposed to go anywhere?” 

He laughs with you, despite not having an answer. That’s alright, you think, it’s an excuse to get him into one of those rooms downstairs....

Ragu: @the-hexfiles @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @dreamie411 @bobaprint @imarvelatthestars @originalcollectionartistry @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @jedi-hawkins if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

[giddyfatherchris]

📱skz texts — how they react/comfort you (when you’re going through a rough patch with a friend)

| including. felix, han, hyunjin

warnings. none!

a/n. who am i 😮 posting two days in a row??😮 hehe sorry it took so long for the second batch to come! bang chan and lee know will be next<3 hope you enjoy babies xx tagging my sweet bubs @httpdwaekki as promised hope they measure up to your expectations 🙈

a/n. also i know these are ‘out of order’ but… whatever:)

changbin, seungmin & i.n

bang chan & lee know

Felix

He was just about to get into the car when he got your text.

He hefted up the last bags in before he smiled, knowing only from your words that you would be so happy with the surprise he had prepared for you. As he drove to your school, he reminisced on the last few weeks. 

His knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel as he remembered the first night you had arrived at the studio, crying. Your cheeks were red, and you looked so disoriented. You explained in between sobs that you fought with one of your best friends. School was easy for you, you had to put in your fair amount of work, but it did come to you easier than for other people, aka them. They let that jealousy grow and grow and had it become a nasty tumor hogging everything in its path. Until that one night when they held your success up against you, and it all exploded, leaving nothing in its wake. 

He tried calming you down, but it was one of those moments in his life when he felt the most unhelpful, helpless, and worried. You seemed to be reassured by his touch, but your breathing was still labored, a constant stream of tears flowing down your cheeks. He held you closer, thanking the universe he had been alone practicing, but he knew even if the whole group had been there, he would have let everything down to be there for you. 

Releasing his grip, he breathed through the memories and hung to the truth that it was now over. Yes, you still had to see that person from time to time in school, and they were still being incredibly pissy, but you no longer were hurt by their behavior and attempts at screwing you. Thanks to many, many nights spent with Felix, you talked everything through, and he helped you process the situation. He was so proud of the way you handled things, and since it had been a while since you two had the opportunity to have a special date he impulsively decided to organize this getaway. He smiled as he pulled to the curb, noticing your confused smile.

"Hey you, isn't tonight a recording night?"

"Not for me. We're going away," he answered with an enigmatic smile. He nodded for you to get in, "It's a surprise. Yes, everything is arranged. Yes, your bags are packed, and yes, I'm totally free to go."

You narrowed your eyes as he answered all your questions without you having to ask them. "And, where are we going?"

"I'm afraid I can't reveal that information yet."

You rolled your eyes, secretly delighted. "Okay then, can I ask why?"

At that, he settled and grabbed your hand. "Because I'm proud of you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you lately, but you've handled everything so well and managed to get out of it stronger. There was not much I could do to help, but I can do this. I think you deserve this little getaway for all the hard work you've been putting in."

"Lix..." your gaze softened with his kind words.

"No complaints will be accepted at this moment. You just have to sit back, relax, and let me handle it, sounds good?" He brought your hand to his lips, softly kissing it while his eyes scanned your reaction. 

"Sounds very good." You smiled back.

He kissed your joined hands once more before putting the car in drive. 

You let a beat of silence pass before you tried again with a pleading tone. "You really won't tell me where we're going?" 

He laughed at your impatience. "No baby." 

A smile wouldn't leave his face as he imagined your reaction when you would pull up in the entryway of the little cottage he had booked near the sea. He could already picture your eyes growing in size and your excited screams when you would see the blue waves and sandy beach. Felix felt his heart strain under all the love he felt for you, as he promised himself to keep doing these little things for you forever.

Han

He already knew everything about the situation happening with one of your friends. Honestly, he had a hard time understanding why they were suddenly turning against you. But then again, he always had a bad feeling about them and never thought they treated you half as well as you deserved. 

Still, he hated seeing you so affected by it. He understood why, but he hated feeling so unhelpful. He listened when you needed to vent and tried supporting you as much as he could, but he always felt like it would never be enough. So, when you texted him before heading home from work, hinting at how hard today had been, guilt started gnawing at him.

You got home about 20 minutes later. He was already waiting for you at the door. As soon as he saw the tired look on your face, the dark circles slowly settling under your eyes, his heart ached, but before you could notice his sad puppy eyes, he masked them with his warmest smile.  

"Hey pretty, how are you?" Immediately he took your bag from your hands and helped you take off your coat before wrapping you in a hug.  

"Could be worse, but could be better too," you sighed. "They were extra petty today, I'm not sure how to deal with this anymore."

He pulled back to grab your face, staring at you lovingly as he did. You looked back at him, the sight of his plush cheeks and chestnut eyes already easing the pain in your chest. "But, I'll be okay. I just want to think of something else. If you're still up for it, a movie night would be amazing." 

His face lit up with a sweet smile as he kissed the tip of your nose. "You can head up for a quick shower. I already started the heater and laid down some clothes for you. I'm taking care of everything."

As soon as you disappeared in the corridor he started creating the perfect setup. He made sure to bring all your favorite blankets, pillows, and plushies on the couch. When he heard the shower start he was already preparing hot beverages for the both of you, along with a few of your favorite snacks. He proudly looked at the final result, dimming the lights to create the perfect cozy ambiance. Han would have done anything you would have asked of him tonight. Still, as he looked at his work, a proud smile illuminated his features. As outgoing as he was, he always liked when you said you would rather stay in with him than go out. 

Your soft steps on the floor snatched his attention away from his thoughts. Your hair was still wet from your shower, your face bare, and as planned, you wore the matching pajamas he had laid out for you. You were now both rocking an adorable fuzzy set. His heart tightened at the sight of you, looking so relaxed and cozy. 

"Since you said you didn't know what to watch, I made a little selection."

You snuggled up next to him, listening to his suggestions before adding one of your own. "While I was in the shower I was thinking we could watch one of our comfort movies. If you want to, of course."

"Sure, what were you thinking of?" he asked as he handed you the remote and placed his arm around your shoulders to pull your body closer to his. 

You quickly typed in the movie title, and he felt a smile tug at his lips as he read it. "Are you sure you want to watch Howl's Moving Castle again? I made you watch it just last week."

You nodded confidently, "It's the first movie we've ever watched together and it gives me the best comfy vibes. So if you're down for it...?"

He only pressed play in answer, made sure you were snug in your fort of blankets, kissed the side of your head as you settled against him and the familiar soundtrack started playing.

"I wish I could do more to help you with this whole thing. I hope this still lessens your burden, at least a little. I'm sorry I can't do more." He whispered a few seconds into the movie.

You turned back to look at him, his hair falling in soft curls. The worried expression on his face made you want to hug him as tight as you could. Maybe then you would be able to squeeze it out of his body.

"It's perfect. I couldn't ask for a better partner to go through all this. You do not have to apologize. It's all more than enough." you kissed his plump lips tenderly, "You will always be more than enough." You added before focusing on the movie again, not seeing the beautiful smile now visible on the young man’s face.

Hyunjin

He stared at you in disbelief as you dropped to the floor from extenuation and frustration. You had barely closed the door that you laid your head on the wall and closed your eyes. Your handbag hung limply from your hands, and your coast rustled and creased from the awkward position you were in. He knew what this was about as it wasn't the first night you had assumed that position. The first time you did, a few days ago, he had panicked, thinking you had lost consciousness or were sick. Even if it was nothing of the sort, his worry was still called for when silent tears streamed down your face. That's when you first explained what you were going through, that you had made new friends at your workplace only to discover they were associating with you to steal your ideas. Hyunjin remembers your smile and shining eyes when you first came from work telling him you had made new friends. When you discovered they stole your ideas and presented them to your boss first, that dream had cruelly shattered. You had fought back and proven the ideas were yours, but still, the situation at work was horrible as they had decided to make it hell for you as revenge. Hence the exhausted slide down the door every night.

He crouched next to you, a silent support. "I'm sorry, give me two more minutes, and then I promise to get up and get in my pajamas." You sighed heavily.

"Can I ask you a question?" he softly spoke. You looked up before nodding silently. "If the situation has been solved, if you still have your job, and if your boss is happy you spoke up about it. Why do you still feel like this? I'm not trying to judge or anything I promise. I'm only trying to understand." 

You thought about his question, analyzing his features, so soft and open. "It's just so- conflicting? In a way? I mean, I feel angry at them for doing this to me, but I also feel guilty for ratting them out, even if they deserved it. And I'm angry at myself for not seeing through their schemes. It's just a lot of contradictory feelings. Plus, it hurts... I really thought they liked me at first. It hurts to know they never did, it doesn't help all the little voices telling me I'm worth dirt. I don't know, I've just been stuck in this stupid loop for a week now... I'm not sure what to do to get out of it." 

Even if he wasn't touching you, Hyunjin's attentive stare felt just as intimate. You loved that about him, how present he always was. You knew his silence was no indicator of his level of care. He stared a second more before suggesting, "You know what, I don't think you should get changed. I think we should do something different tonight. What would you say to go out?"

"What are you thinking?" you cautiously asked.

"I'm thinking you need a change of scenery. I think we should go out, have a drink, go for a little exploring, or we could even go to the amusement park! I think changing it up could help you get out of this loop you say you feel stuck in."

You stared at him in silence, weighing in the pros and the cons, still a spark lit your gaze. He dropped his chin on his knees and stared at you with his attentive eyes. You knew if you said you didn't want to go he would support you, but you also knew Hyunjin had that innate sense sometimes where he knew exactly what you needed before you even did. 

"What do you say angel?" he finally asked, slowly reaching out to wrap his slender fingers around yours. 

You simply nodded a slow smile spreading on your lips. For the first time this week, you felt the familiar pang of excitement.

You settled on going to the amusement park as it had been the thing that sparked the most interest in you. Your skin prickled as you neared the gate, it felt so refreshing, so new. You were about to head in when you heard a few familiar voices calling your name. 

You turned around to see Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N approaching you, broad smiles on their faces. You weakly waved at them as you looked at your boyfriend, a proud smile already on his face.

"I thought you needed to be reminded just how appreciated and liked you are. I'm truly sorry it turned that way with those assholes, but please do not let it make you doubt your worth. You are surrounded by people who love you and think you are the most amazing human being. Me on top of that list." He leaned in to kiss your temple while he pulled you in for a quick hug and you felt your heart overflow with joy at the gesture he had pulled and the seven excited boys joining you.

You truly were blessed with the most amazing people.

[trensu]

Heyyy, long time no post, huh? I'm dropping another chunk of stasis in darkness for you guys! And I wanted to remind people that these posts are basically rough drafts. The final product will hopefully be more polished but in the meantime please enjoy!

--

After Steve convinced the old man he meant no harm, he’d been allowed into the home. The Lord of Night hadn’t been super specific about the purpose of his quest, only that Steve had to bring him to Wayne Munson. Steve discreetly looked around the home as he entered it. The old man was obviously unwell and had been for a while, given the state of the house. Steve had the creeping suspicion that the time limit the Lord of Night mentioned was linked to the man’s health.

“What are you doing?” Wayne Munson asked suspiciously once he had returned to the kitchen with Steve in tow. He had sat heavily in one of the old worn chairs at the table but Steve, instead of joining him, began to clear the table on impulse. Steve halted awkwardly.

“This ain’t your house, boy,” Wayne said with a scowl. “I can take care of myself.”

Steve did his very best not to look at the scattered mess in the kitchen or living room. It was not the mess of a dirty, careless person. It was the mess of someone tired and overwhelmed. It was the mess of someone in pain who was too proud to ask for help. Steve took in Wayne Munson’s watery eyes, wan skin, and the clothes that were plain things, tattered from use, but mostly stain-free. Steve quickly added all these details and came up with a plan of attack. He set the plate back down.

“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed easily. “I’m aware, but I serve the Lord of Night and he sent me to you specifically. In our god’s name, I must assist you in any way I can.” 

Wayne’s expression wavered. Steve pushed again. He lowered his gaze in a slightly embarrassed manner, letting a note of uncertainty color his words.

“I don’t know what else to do until nightfall,” Steve said. He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “I don’t want him to think I’ve neglected you.”

“What happens at nightfall?” Wayne asked.

“It’s when the Lord of Night wants to see you,” Steve said. Wayne blinked.

“Me? He wants to see me?”

“Yeah! So, if you could please let me,” Steve said, putting on his most endearing smile, “I’d like to take care of you until then. You know, make sure you’re comfortable and get the place ready for a divine visit. If it’s not too much trouble, sir?”

“Uh, no, that should be fine. Is…is there anything I should do?” Wayne asked dazedly.

“Not really. All I know is he really wants to see you tonight. Oh, maybe you’d like to rest until then? A nap, so you’re not drowsy when he arrives.”

Wayne nods, still in shock at the news. He didn’t protest when Steve helped him out of the chair and let him lean his weight on him as they navigated to the bedroom. Wayne sat on the bed as Steve drew curtains closed over the room’s single window. The curtains were thick enough to dim the sun to a pale yellow glow.

“I didn’t know there was anyone else who followed him,” Wayne said as he lay himself down over the covers.

"He told me you’re the only one left, besides me,” Steve told him. “And I only discovered him a month ago by accident.”

“By accident?” Wayne asked with a wry grin.

“My friends found a holy text when we were researching other gods. It was the only one of his in the city's whole library. Then we had a hell of a time trying to find his last shrine. When I finally found it, it was falling apart. He’s been forgotten,” Steve said. At Wayne’s troubled expression, he hurriedly added, “But now that I’ve pledged myself to him, I’m going to make sure people know him again.”

Wayne did not appear convinced, but he finally settled to rest after Steve promised to wake him before sunset. Steve took the opportunity to clean. He hadn’t been lying to Wayne when he said he wasn’t sure what to do until nightfall. It didn’t help that Steve also liked to keep himself busy. Being idle made him itch.

The house was small. Aside from Wayne's bedroom, there was only a cramped kitchen and a modest living room. From the small window of the backdoor, Steve could see a short, worn path to an outhouse. 

Given the size of the house, though there was a mess everywhere, it didn’t take Steve very long to clean it all. When it was done to his satisfaction, there were still a few hours left until sunset so he wandered outside. The porch railing was covered with broad green leaves from intertwining vines but Steve left that alone when he saw the small garden nearby. It was full of ripe vegetables that Steve assumed Wayne had been unable to pick himself given his condition. 

By the time Steve had picked the vegetables, pulled the weeds, and watered the garden, the sun hung low in the horizon. He cleaned himself up the best he could in the kitchen sink and took one of the chairs from the table to the bedroom before waking Wayne.

He told Wayne what he accomplished during Wayne’s repose. While Wayne expressed his gratitude politely enough, it was still apparent to Steve that the old man was irritated at having needed the assistance at all. To keep Wayne from dwelling on that, as well as to satisfy his own curiosity, he coaxed Wayne into conversation.

“Can I ask, uh, how you–I mean, how did you know? How did you know the Lord of Night existed?"

Wayne laughed at Steve’s befuddled tone. The laugh turned into a coughing fit. Steve quickly fetched him a glass of water and put it on the bedside table after Wayne had a drink.

“My family’s a bunch of no-good criminals,” Wayne croaked. “Were. It’s only me now. But before, each generation of Munsons took it up. Like a family tradition.”

“Criminals?” asked Steve cautiously. 

“Thieves and con men. Some ladies of the night, if you catch my meaning. They knew of our Lord of Night and passed the knowledge down,” Wayne sighed sadly. “The life of a criminal ain’t what you call stable. We lost bits and pieces of him with every generation. Like his name. No one’s known his name for a very long time. Is that why he wants to see me? Did I fail him?”

There was genuine distress in Wayne’s question so Steve hid his disappointment. He had hoped the Lord of Night’s last worshiper would at least have a clue about where to start the search for the lost name. He focused, instead, on reassuring the old man.

“I don’t know why he wants to see you, but he wasn’t angry when he sent me. He sounded excited.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Wayne said uncertainly.

“Definitely,” Steve assured. Before Wayne could sink into his gloom again, Steve said, “I know you said you’ve lost some knowledge, but do you know if the Lord of Night has any prayers? I haven’t…I mean, I’ve tried to worship him but I don’t think I can do it right without a prayer. I’m kind of new at all this.”

“My ma used to say our Lord didn’t have patience for formalities,” Wayne said, brow furrowed. “They bored him so he only had a few official prayers. There was one where we’d thank him for any dreams he gave us. I think there was another one that asked for dreams to bring inspiration or something of that sort. I don’t really remember those–ma would be boxing my ears for that if she was still around. I remember the one for protection, since we used that one a lot. It goes: 

Lord of Night,  Guide us through all phases Of the moon; May the dark be free of All dangers, While your many stars burn.

Wayne’s voice cracked into a coughing fit near the end. Steve hurriedly offered him water again once Wayne had caught it again. Wayne took a few mouthfuls and repeated the prayer again so Steve could learn it. It took a few tries, but Wayne was patient and by the end of it, Steve had it memorized.

“Is that the only one?” Steve asked, hoping to learn more. Wayne grimaced.

“It’s the only one I really remember. The Lord of Night prefers stories. My ma would tell us the best bedtime stories. Said they were for our god as much as for me and my brother. I was never good at coming up with new stories, so I retell my favorites or tell our Lord about my days and give him a little offering.”

Steve wasn't much of a story teller. He supposed he could do as Wayne did until he met up with Robin and Dustin again. They constantly chatted about books they’d read. Steve couldn’t help but notice how, once again, his friends seemed a better fit for his god than he was; all Steve could give his god was his shield and sword. It was discouraging. He had to figure out a way to make up for it somehow.

“What kind of offerings?” Steve asked. 

He wanted to give his god more; he wanted to give the Lord of Night something he’d actually like. It wasn’t lost on him that the Lord of Night took him under duress. Who else would’ve been able to complete this quest? 

“When I was young, it was horse shoes,” Wayne chuckled at Steve’s confusion. “Thieves are supposed to give him a part of their loot but my ma and pa were horse thieves. They got horseshoes and would leave one for each horse they stole, tied with a braid made of the stolen horse’s mane.”

“You stole horses?” Steve said, unable to fight off a grin as he remembered the conversation he had with the Lord of Night about it.

“Me and my brother, before he passed,” Wayne said with a weak nod. 

The sky had darkened by now. Steve pulled the stone out of his satchel. He carefully unwrapped it from the cloth and set it gently on the bedside table next to the glass of water. Wayne eyed it quizzically.

“It’s from his shrine,” Steve explained. Without any further fussing, Steve stood up and went to the door.

“Don’t leave,” the Lord of Night said. 

Steve turned to see the god, hooded in his cloak of constellations, sitting in the chair Steve had vacated. The Lord of Night had not even glanced Steve's way when he spoke to him. The god’s attention rested solely on Wayne.

Steve hadn’t seen or spoken to the Lord of Night since he’d been accepted as his holy warrior. The god had needed to conserve his energy, he explained to Steve, so that Steve could complete his quest. The god’s cloak was as mesmerizing as the first time. However, this far from the shrine, the god did not look as solid as he had during the nights he spent with Steve. 

“I wanted to give you two some privacy,” Steve said softly. 

“I think Wayne would appreciate not being alone,” the Lord of Night said. 

The old man stared at the god unblinkingly. Wayne’s expression was one of awe and fear, so Steve did as he was told and stayed in the room though he chose to lean on the wall furthest from the pair. He was still close to them in the tiny bedroom, but it provided the pretense of privacy.

“My Lord?” Wayne’s voice was barely audible.

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said.

[anonymooseforever007]

Man of My Dreams

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Y/N is one of the newest secretaries at the Shelby Company and she's always eager to make her bosses proud. But one night, when Tommy give her the order to watch one of his business partners.... maybe she took the order "by any way you can" a bit to literally....

A/N: Hi y'all! There's nothing graphic, but this fic does contain a short mention of forced prostitution by some aweful bosses over their secretaries, but nothing happens here. And aside from usual Peaky Language and sexual innuendos I don't think there are any other TW's for this story! I was gonna post this later but I'm pretty please with how it turned out so here it is now 😂 I just wanted to write a nervous reader meeting cheeky Alfie! Enjoy!❤️

WC- 3.2k

Main Masterlist

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

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?"

".....because I love you?"

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

(A little while earlier)

Mr. Shelby had given you one job. Only one job left today and he said it was vey important that you complete it at all costs and by any means necessary. If you failed there maybe be a lot of trouble and not just for you. But what was that job?

Keep Alfred Solomons inside the office...

It was after closing time at the betting shop and while almost everyone else had gone home you were still working on a few papers Mr. Shelby wanted done by tomorrow. And while they wouldn't take too long, you were still a newer secretary at the company and rather eager to please your bosses. You were also one of the younger secretaries and this was one of your first jobs that consisted of more than stocking shelves or sweet talking rude customers in the bakery. And while everything had gone smoothly so far, you still found yourself accepting the extra work from time to time in order to get in your boss's good graces. He still paid for the time of course, very well actually. But as you'd learn today, late office hours often came with unexpected surprises too. 

One of these began when Mr. Shelby suddenly walked through the main floor towards his office. Only he wasn't alone. Walking a few paces behind him was another man. You'd recognized him as Alfie Solomons, an imposing man who owned the "Bakery" that Arthur Shelby was always grumbling about. You hadn't actually spoken to him or even met him yet. The most you'd gotten was rumors from the other women in the shop about all the terrible things he'd done. Even worse than some of the rumours about your boss. But tonight it appeared that would change. You didn't miss the quick glance made towards you by the Camden Town man when Mr. Shelby passed your desk with a quick acknowledgment, before heading straight to his office.

Only six minutes into the important meeting, Mr. Shelby had been called to the Garrison to deal with a fight started by his brothers. He had been annoyed to no end at having to fix yet another one of his brothers' impulsive decisions, but seeing as Polly was helping Esme with her new baby, he was the only one left to go. Well, the only one Arthur and John would listen to if they were half as drunk as Finn said. And Finn himself was also being dragged back to the bar by Tommy to help control his brothers too, so he couldn't watch the other gangster either. Even if he lacked his brother's stomachs for fighting, Finn still had almost a head over each of them and could hold them back well enough if needed. 

So Tommy brought him along too, leaving you behind with the order to keep the other gangster company until he returned. It didn't matter that Alfie had already agreed to waiting until Tommy came back. Or in his words "graciously relented more of his precious time" in the name of "proof of his good will." Tommy still didn't want him snooping around the office while he was gone. So he'd given you strict instructions to keep the gruff man in his office until he got back. You were also to make sure he didn't mess with much in there either. 

You'd never anticipate just how astray that one plan would take you...

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

"Hi. I'm Y/N, one of the secretaries. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Shelby wanted me to look at his typewriter and clean up the office a bit before I left. One of the keys has been a bit sticky lately. So don't let me both you, and if you need anything let me know and I can get it for you."

You'd figured that had been a pretty decent thing to open with. It was a good excuse for staying in the office, and Tommy had wanted you to fix the key for a while now. But you started to rethink your opener, as all you got in return was a brief nod from Mr. Solomons who continued to read over the paper in his hands. Pursing your lips in a line and feeling slightly awkward now, you just nodded to yourself moving to Mr. Shelby's typewriter. You did get a questioning stare after that when you picked up the device and moved it to the table in the middle of the room. That was the table between Mr. Solomon's desk and the door. It meant you had a better chance of stopping him should he try to bolt. Didn't mean it was a big chance though. No, you didn't doubt this man could easily pin you if he tried, and you hoped in the back of your mind that he really did plan to stay as agreed. And so, glancing at the unchanging position of your charge every few minutes, you set to work on pulling apart the typewriter...

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

Silence.

Pure uncomfortable silence had descended upon the small office nearly half an hour after Mr. Shelby left. Well, you found it uncomfortable, but Alfred seemed to have no issue with the quiet that settled over the room. By this point he'd moved from the chair he was originally sitting on to the one behind him, closer to the bookshelf. Which happened to be directly across from your own seat. 

He sat, unbothered, still reading the same contract he had when you came in. He must of gone through it twelve times by now. Occasionally, he'd mumble under his breath, causing your head to shoot up, waiting for something to happen with bated breath. One of these times, to slight humiliation, your head had shot up expecting to see him still looking down at the papers...only to be met with his own piercing eyes. Neither of you spoke at that moment, you just stared eyes wide with surprise while his remained unreadable. The moment was broken by the sound of a siren out of the window causing you to look over. You didn't notice the slight smile the briefly passed the man's face.

It had been fifteen minutes since that moment and you were finally starting to relax, thinking that maybe this really wouldn't be as bad as you thought. Keeping him here didn't seem too bad.

Until, without warning Alfie stood up and quickly walked towards the desk. Thinking he was trying to look at Mr. Shelby's private papers you also shot up. But when he turned back around you saw he was only grabbing a new pen, leaving you standing there... once again staring. He must really be starting to believe you're a creep of some sorts, you thought. Trying to save face you'd headed towards the desk yourself, under the guise of grabbing a piece of paper for the now fixed typewriter. You didn't expect him to, but you were glad the your company didn't point out the stack of paper sitting right next to the machine in the table. And with that, you went back to your seat, trying to calculate how many drinks you'd need after this. 

You couldn't explain it, but for some reason you felt like you were doing this wrong. There was some source of nerves buzzing in the back of your head that just wouldn't settle. You chalked it up to this being the "most important" job you'd been given yet, aside from when Polly had you watch the empty shop for an hour one night after locking up so she could chew one of her nephews out for their latest mess. You had been so nervous about someone trying to break in, you'd almost concussed poor Arthur with his own stapler when he'd come in the back door. The only thing that saved him was the fact he actually fell back on his ass, terrified, because you'd popped out so closely to him. You were also lucky he happened to be sober and registered it was you before fighting back. Neither of you mentioned that night to the others.... and neither of you ever would.

The silence continued for a few endless minutes longer before it was finally broken. Alfie groaned lightly as he got to his feet. Luckily you hadn't stood up this time and were able to slow the rise of your head, looking up at him slightly concerned. Even if you didn't know the man, you'd noticed the slight wince he'd made when he stood up, using the couch arm to stabilise his ascent as he reached for his cane by the table.

"Right. Now that's enough of that poppet. You said if I wanted anything you'd give it to me correct? And now I know what I want so you're gonna help me?"

Eyes wide in shock, both from the fact your burly companion spoke, and of what he spoke, you shot up once again in slight panic. Shit Shit Shit. Not only had his sudden actions threw you off your axis, but now he was also looking at you with a stare that reminded you of how John looked at Esme many times before they'd disappeared to the back rooms for half an hour or so. Esme usually came out looking brilliant as usual, but John wasn't one to hide his messy clothes or the marks on his neck. And now Alfred Solomons seemed to be giving you the same look as his eyes roved your body. He tilted his head and took another step forward, indicating that you still hadn't answered his question.

"I...I did say that yes. What do you need Mr. Solomons?"

"Well let's not dance around anymore. Call me Alfie or Alfred if you'd like treacle. I've seen you starting at me," Alfie moved around the table until he was only a few steps away, "I think you know exactly what I want. I think you know exactly how this is suppose to play out. Your boss leaving you here as 'company' for little ole me? You know what happens now right?"  

The last words were spoken so closely you could feel his breath against your face. Your breath hitched realising what he meant. No. It couldn't be that. You knew Mr. Shelby wanted you to keep his business partner company, but surely he didn't mean that kind of company. Your boss wouldn't do that right? You'd never even met the man before today and he wanted you to....

"Show me where the bathroom is why don't you? I've been needing a piss since the trip up."

Your entire body seemed to relax hearing those words. Yes, Alfred Solomons was a very handsome man, the kind you often fantasised with your friends about meeting one day. But that didn't mean you had any desire to sleep with the man for your boss's benefit. You'd heard about monsters who forced that from their poor secretaries. 'A sweeter part of the business deals' is what some of them wanted. Men like that disgusted you, and you were relieved your boss wasn't that way. If he was though, you believed you'd actually have shot him yourself for such a suggestion. Yes, you had a habit of being quiet and were often anxious about if you were correctly doing your job, but you'd be damned if any man thought he could treat you that way. Your father had taught you how a man should respect a woman and your mother gave you a gun if he didn't. A gun that was currently locked in your nightstand, but nonetheless you figured you'd have time to grab the stapler on Tommy's desk if you needed to. Though now that Solomons had brought it up, the idea wouldn't leave your mind. After all, it was just you and Mr. Solomons in the office. Mr. Shelby wasn't back yet and there was no telling how long he'd be. What if he got to you before you reached the stapler?

"It's alright dove, I'm not gonna hurt ya," Alfie's words broke through your thoughts once again, and you'd nodded this time hearing the truth in his words. He'd noticed you'd relaxed upon his last demand, only to tense up a bit in thought moments later. Based on your quick glance towards the stapler on Tommy's desk, he could tell you were now thinking of another request he'd might have made. One that honestly he wouldn't have minded indulging in he thought, taking another quick look at the woman before him. But he didn't because of the uncertain look in your eye and the scolding voice of his late mother telling him off for what he'd just done. 

He knew it was wrong of him to imply such a thing, especially when he'd only just met you and when you seemed nervous as it was. And for a man who rarely regrets his actions, he did feel a slight hint of guilt for scaring you. His mother would have tore him a whole new asshole if she'd heard him make such a comment, implying what the young woman practically had no choice to do. Given, he certainly had made many comments like those before and they were often eagerly accepted and lead to quite a few passionate nights while Cyril was sent home with Ollie... But that didn't mean now was the time for them. Not when it was late at night alone in Tommy Shelby's office the his secretary he'd met forty five minutes ago. Wouldn't that be a story to hold over the shorter gangster though? The time he bent Tommy's new secretary over the man's own desk in under an hour. Alfie felt the seat of his pants tighten slightly at that idea, but tried to push it off because it still wasn't the time for that. 

"The bathroom is this way."

Your words broke him out of his thoughts and Alfie looked over to see you standing by the office door you'd been guarding so "intensely" the whole time. Like your time in the office, the way to the bathroom was also silent. You walked Alfie all the way up to the door, and he was half surprised you didn't accompany him to actual toilet seat. 

After a few moments standing awkwardly outside the door, feeling like you sister waiting for her five year old son, Alfie finally came out again. He didn't even wait for you as he made his way back through the main floor. But instead of cutting a straight path through the other desks like before, he was weaving his way around and between the tables. Sometimes he'd pause and look at the papers on a seat even though they were likely just blank log pages, everything else having been put away for the night. Then he'd straighten up again and travel a completely different direction than before. And because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't take anything off the other desks, you followed him. 

Up and down and around. If someone were to walk into the company just now, they'd have seen what looked like a two person game of tag....One you seemed to be loosing. Finally he reached the door of Tommy's office again, stopping so suddenly, you almost ran into him. 

"Well that was a rush wasn't it poppet? Had to get me daily exercise in didn't I?"

The intimidation you felt from this man was finally starting to wear off. All of the sudden the mood of environment changed again. Alfie sighed and shrugged his shoulders like he'd made a final decision. 

"Right. That's really enough of that poppet. Seems your Boss is a no show and I'm a busy man," Alfie stated as he gathered up the papers he's been looking at. You froze, watching him stand up and make his way to the door. Shit shit shit. He was joking again right? He was suppose to stay put. But now he's moving towards the door and doing the very thing he wasn't suppose to do. Why was he leaving now? He said he'd stay. Shoot. You wanted to go back to the uncomfortable silence from before.

You looked around the room for a reason to keep him there. But aside from Tommy's stapler, you didn't see any means of holding him back. Besides it wasn't like the stapler would be of much use. Tommy always forgot to refill it when the staples were gone and had a bad habit of stealing yours and never giving it back. Sure, he technically owned every stapler in the building, but you were still very proud of your own little tool. It hardly ever got jammed. But now it was no where in sight and Tommy's stapler was as usual, empty, meaning unless you wanted to beat Alfie over the head with it, you were out of luck. Sure, you could probably toss it at him as a distraction and then roll the desk chair into his bad hip, but that just felt mean. Arthur would absolutely love it and might have given you a raise for doing it even, but there was a larger part of you that spoke against hitting a man in his war wound. That just felt like a special type of cruel. But it meant you were left with no other option but to witness Alfie walk out the door. As you watched, Mr. Shelby's words flew through your head, talking about how important it was for Alfie to stay until he returned and how you need to keep Alfie there at all costs. Suddenly, an idea hit you.

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?" The words came out absentmindedly, Alfie already focused on what he'd do when he got home.

".....because I love you?"

Alfie's hand was on the door when he froze, hearing your almost desperate plea. Spinning around as much as he could with his hip, he faced you again. Confusion covered his face, quickly replaced by an almost cocky amusement.

"You love me?"

"Yes," you nodded somewhat confidently," I've loved you since the moment I first met you."

Alfie, tilted his head and took a step closer, raising and eyebrow.

"Well poppet, considering moment I met ya was an hour ago, I'd say it's a love that won't take long to get over."

He turned again but this time you shoved yourself infront of the door before he could grab it.

"No it's not!"

"It's not?"

Now Alfie was confused. He'd have remembered meeting a pretty face like yours before, especially it it accompanied your rather memorable personality, you'd shown today. On the other hand, you were cursing yourself out internally, berating yourself for the impulsive lie. Why didn't you just grab the stapler? Scrambling to cover yourself now, you delved deeper into your story.

"It's not. The first time we met was... it was... at.... no by.... It was by..... in .in in.... IN MY DREAMS!! The first time we met was in my dreams and I've been in love with you since then!! Yes that's it!"

You nodded vigorously, smiling, hoping he'd believe you. He didn't obviously, he knew you were still trying to follow your boss's orders.... but damn was this fun to watch. Alfie raised an eyebrow moving a step closer again.

"Are you saying I'm the man of your dreams poppet?"

"Yes! Absolutely. I think about you every night."

"You do?" Alfie was only a step away now. "What exactly about me do you think dove?"

You thought for a moment, scanning his body for things to talk about, not that it would be hard, but you felt a little pressured here. If Alfie moved any closer his beard would brush you chin.

"Beard.... Your beard is fluffy, and looks soft," you started," and your stance is...like a sturdy man's stance..you have pretty eyes too...and you have arms... I like arms. You look like you'd give good hugs... or could like make my bed," Alfie bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Also legs, you have legs, and a cane for your hip. You could like do stuff with the cane ... maybe I don't know. Some people may like that. I know people into that." You had no clue what your were saying at this point, just rambling and Alfie didn't know if it was embarrassing or enduring. But before you could delve deeper into your hole, he stopped you.

"Alright poppet. I get it don't I? You're madly in love with me and the idea of me leaving just breaks your heart, don't it?"

"Yes?...." You nodded, not believing that he was believing it. Maybe?... "It breaks my heart and that's why you can't leave. You have to stay with me. In here. In this office....So you can't leave. Because I absolutely love you with all my heart and if you were to go I wouldn't know what to do. I'm just lost without you Alfred Solomons. You are the man of my dreams an..."

"Y/N, What the fuck?"

Startled by Finn's voice you cursed, turning around to see not only the youngest Shelby, but Tommy, Arthur, John, and Michael staring at the scene before them. Evidently during your "heartfelt" speech you hadn't noticed them arrive back to the office. Nor had you seen them opening Tommy's door, only to hear the last bit of you professing your "love" for the man who'd screwed them over more times than John had kids....which was to say a lot. Tommy's eyes met yours in confusion and slight concern as your mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to provide an explanation. When he said keep Alfie under control he meant, just make sure the man didn't piss in the whiskey decanters or draw horns on Arthur's picture. He wasn't sure why that involved professing your love. In the back of his mind, it passed that you could be a spy, and Tommy honestly hoped that wasn't the case. He liked you, Lizzie never let him take her stapler. A drunken John just smiled in amusement, pleased with the free entertainment. Meanwhile, Finn and Michael were silently making faces at each other, arguing over who'd grab Arthur's legs, and who'd get arms if he decided to act on the dangerous glare he was giving Alfie. He wasn't actually drunk, but Arthur saw you like another Ada, and he didn't like the idea of Alfie romancing you. Arthur also had a deep seated despise for Alfie in general, but everyone knew that. Now they were all looking at your for an explanation.

Looking over your shoulder, the stapler was still empty.

Perfect.... 

[bravevulnerability]

say don't go

A/N: Post 4x06, Demons, AU. Picks up from exactly where the episode ends.

-

"The waiting is a sadness Fading into madness It won't stop... I'm holding out hope for you to say 'don't go' I would stay forever if you say 'don't go'"

'Say Don't Go' - Taylor Swift

-

Castle remains on the sofa long after Alexis shuffles sleepily off to bed. He thinks he did a sufficient job of taking her mind off of her complicated relationship with Ashley, but now that he sits alone, in the dark, with Ghostbusters playing on the television for the third time this week, his mind wanders to his own. Is his relationship with Beckett just as doomed as he feels his daughter's may be? He and Kate may not be long distance the way Alexis and Ashley are, but there are times when it certainly feels that way.

Sometimes his overthinking leads to the bad habit of drinking. He only means to blunt his thoughts of her with a shot glass of bourbon, some scotch, but then he's sleepy yet wide awake at the same time and drifting out the door on impulse and lost inhibition alone.

Anything is possible, he told Alexis, even the seemingly impossible. But he doesn't want Kate Beckett to be an impossible feat. He just wants her to be his partner, his best friend, and someday, more. And tonight, through the hazy thoughts fogging up his mind, he just wants to see her.

-

Kate is sitting at her dining room table, a glass of wine in her hand and a puzzle in front of her. She frowns down at the array of black cats scattered about a pumpkin patch, the thousand piece monstrosity spread before her. Burke said she should find something to distract herself with when she's feeling overwhelmed - something tangible and engaging, like a puzzle. Maybe she should have been less ambitious with her choice.

The knock on the door is almost a relief.

She pushes away from table, sets down her wine, and glides toward the entryway with something like anticipation brimming in her chest. She knows it's him. Who else would it be?

"Still afraid of the demon, Castle?" she chuckles, swinging the door open.

He's standing on the other side, swaying slightly on his feet.

He blinks, brightens. "Kate. Hi."

She tilts her head at him quizzically. "Castle. Have you been drinking?"

"What?" he sputters, lifting an affronted hand to his chest. She purses her lips as he lists further to one side. "No. No, it's just - it's the witching hour, Beckett."

"Excuse me?" she deadpans, but he's pushing his way inside. Kate sighs and shuts the door behind him.

"The witching hour! It's the time of night when witches, demons, and ghosts are thought to be at their most powerful," he rambles on, making excited gestures with his hands. "Times vary, but it usually happens after midnight."

"So," she surmises, strolling towards him as he paces in her kitchen. "You're here to... protect me?"

He nods, solemn.

"We've been dealing excessively in the supernatural this week, Beckett," he murmurs, narrowing his gaze on her. "What if we upset the balance?"

"The only balance upset tonight is yours," she chuckles, stopping in front of him and placing a steadying hand to his waist. "Did you catch a cab here, or car service?"

"Cab," he sighs, leaning towards her. She quirks an eyebrow as he touches his hand to her shoulder, his fingers curling around the hair still twined in a loose braid. "You never wore your hair like this before."

Kate ignores the low, thoughtful timber of his voice, the intensity of his gaze on her.

"I don't always have the energy to style it," she shrugs, letting him play with the rope of her hair. "Keeping my arms up too long aggravates my scars. So sometimes just letting it dry on its own and tying it back is easier."

"Right," he says, sobering slightly, dropping her hair. His gaze drifts to the covered spot on her chest where he knows a bullet pierced instead. "Right."

"It was helpful for this case to have it out of my face, though," she scrambles, not even sure why she does. Only that she wants to see him smile again, to keep the darkness from his eyes. "Made it easier to ghost hunt."

His lips quirk at that.

"Speaking of... since you're here, do you maybe want to watch a movie? Something on theme?" she hedges, chewing on her lip nervously. But Castle only brightens, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Oh yeah! There's a horror movie marathon on right now!"

He scrambles around her to reach the couch, hitting her coffee table on the way. Kate rolls her eyes, but follows him with warmth spreading through the usual ache of her chest.

-

A bloodcurdling scream startles him awake, his arm reflexively tightening around the warmth of Kate's shoulder- oh.

Castle blinks past the grit of sleep in his eyes, enough to look down and find the curl of Kate's body beside his. She's sleeping hard, her limbs heavy and loose against his, puffs of her breath escaping from the slight part of her lips and pooling along his clavicle. He checks the laptop in front of them, the small screen with a black and white film playing on the coffee table - some slasher film he doesn't remember them starting.

He sighs and relaxes back against the plush of her couch and the nest of blankets around them. They both must have dozed off during the first film, shifted closer through lack of consciousness - because this is definitely not the position he remembers watching the movie in. It's the only conceivable notion for Kate Beckett cuddling up against him like this.

"S'wrong?" she mumbles, her shoulders shifting against his chest, her head lifting from the alcove between his neck and collarbone. Her hand rises from beneath the throw across her shoulders and rests on his chest. "Heart's racing."

"Movie," he assures her quickly. "I heard screaming, woke me up."

She hums, still not totally awake and drops her cheek back to his shoulder, nuzzles him. Oh god. It's a Halloween miracle. A torturous, wonderful miracle of a moment.

"Must be late," she yawns, her eyelashes tickling his throat.

He swallows hard. "Yeah, I - I better go. I think I slept off most of the alcohol, I'm sorry. I-"

"Why'd you come here tonight, Castle?" she questions softly, the drowsiness leaking from her voice as awareness swam to the surface.

"I... missed you," he tries, going for lighthearted, but he can feel the dismissal emanating from her.

"You saw me a few hours earlier," she reminds him.

"Yeah, but then... well, me and Alexis were talking, about relationships, and I started thinking about you. Then she went to bed and I starting drinking a little too much too soon-"

"Thinking of me makes you want to drink?"

"What? No, no," he sputters quickly, his heart picking up a panicked speed again. "I just - I had a couple of glasses and I'm - I'm always thinking about you, Kate. Sometimes a little too much. I didn't mean to just show up, but I... when I'm not with you, I wish I was. I think the alcohol just made it easier to rationalize doing something about it."

She's quiet for a long time and he wants to jump out of the window behind them. He's an absolute idiot. Maybe he still has more liquor in his system than he thought.

He's thinking up a way to get out of this gracefully, to preserve whatever dignity he may have left, when she turns her body further into him.

"Oh Castle," she sighs, the melancholy so heavy in the exhale of his name. "I'm sorry."

His brow furrows and he cups her shoulder. "Sorry? Beckett, you didn't do-"

"I feel like I'm just... keeping you in some stupid limbo," she mutters, fisting a hand in the chest of his t-shirt.

"Kate, no," he protests, but her head is already shaking. "Hey, we're waiting. I agreed to wait and I'm okay with it."

"Castle-"

"I'd wait forever, okay?"

A broken noise escapes her lips and then she's shifting against him, rotating in the curve of his arm to face him, desperate eyes meeting his.

"Not forever," she whispers, more vulnerable than he's ever seen her. "And it shouldn't - it doesn't have to be miserable."

He tilts his head at her, confused. "It's not miserable. This-" He waves a hand between them. Her knees are bent into his lap, his arm is loose and low at her back, and he can feel the heat of her breath on his chin. "Is not miserable."

Kate quirks her lips, but shakes her head at him. She leans forward, her forehead grazing his, their noses bumping. He sucks in a quiet breath.

"No," she murmurs, her lashes low and hiding her eyes from him. "But the day to day? The wanting? I'm kind of miserable, Castle."

He clings to the thoughtless courage that brought him here tonight and reaches forward, his palm curving over the heat of her nape as he drags her in close. He catches her sigh of relief on his mouth when he seals his lips to hers.

Castle buries his fingers in her hair, dismantling the beautiful twine of her braid, but she doesn't seem to mind. Kate cups his face in her hands, rising on her knees to tower over him as she does. He can't contain his moan, his gasp of her name when she opens her mouth over his, caresses her tongue to the seam of his lips.

He leans back further into the sofa, her chest falling flush against his as she follows, keeping close. His hands are ceaseless in their exploration along her spine, trailing the bones of her vertebrae, tracing the hem of the loose sweater, the band of her leggings. She hums at the first touch of his fingers to naked skin, the spark palpable, and he splays his hand wide across her lower back to trap it there.

He barely realizes she's in his lap, her thighs astride his hips until he's clutching his hand in her hair again, tearing away from the perfect dance of her lips for air.

She damn near whines - a sound he was not ready for - and nips at his jaw. His hips jerk and they both still.

"Kate," he murmurs, gentling her with the massage of his fingertips to her scalp. Her head falls to his shoulder and he drops his back against the head of the sofa. "I think this might be the best Halloween ever."

She chokes out a laugh. "Halloween is tomorrow, Castle."

"No, it's past midnight. It's today," he argues wistfully. She sighs and it feels so normal already, bickering between makeouts on her couch. Oh, please let this be his new normal. "Speaking of, do you want to come over tomorrow night, help handout candy to trick-or-treaters?"

He feels her throat work with a swallow, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything. He lets her think it through, lets her imagine a sense of normalcy that goes beyond this massive leap they took tonight.

"Yeah," Kate decides, sitting back on his knees. She offers him a shy smile, her lips kiss-swollen and lovely. She bridges her fingers at his nape, brushes her thumbs to the fine hairs at the base of his scalp. "I'd like that, Castle. I'd also like it if you were here in the morning," she adds, lowering her eyes to the collar of his shirt that her fingers absentmindedly straighten. "We could talk more about... this, over coffee."

He reaches up, strokes one of the stray curls from her cheek.

"Then tell me not to go," he tests. "Tell me to stay."

Kate unfurls from his lap to stand and snags his hands on her way up, dragging him along after her. He rises from the sofa with stiff knees, stumbling into her, and she grins, wrapping arms around his neck. And he can't help marveling at her even then, with her hair a wreck from his hands and her clothes askew, the city at their backs painting streaks of lights across her face, her sparkling eyes and the smile she saves for him and him alone.

"Don't go." She takes a step backwards, leading him towards a half-opened door, to what he assumes is her bedroom. She pauses in the doorway and arches on the toes of her bare feet. "Stay with me tonight." She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, dropping another to his cheek, the crease of his eye. "Wake up with me in the morning." His heart is pounding and he tangles his arms around her waist, pulls her in close. Her lips form a smile against his skin. "Then take me to the loft to prep for trick-or-treaters."

He smiles into the kiss he presses to her lips. He kisses her until they're both breathless and stumbling into her bedroom. They trip and land in a heap on her bed, his body half atop hers as he rises to an elbow, strokes his thumb to the harsh bone of her smiling cheek.

"Happy Halloween, Beckett."

She chuckles against his mouth when he kisses her again, her arms banding firm around his neck and tugging him closer.

"Might just be my new favorite holiday."

[moyokeansimblr]

Update

Not feeling so hot and I'm not going to do anything impulsive at 8PM on a Friday evening but

here is a link to a sfs folder with ALL of my content that's currently only hosted on patreon.

I want to add individual sfs links to the tumblr posts but that's a lot and I'm now regretting never adding alt dl links this whole time... and sorry I don't think the downloads in the sfs folder are in order... it also might be some other things, like fixed meshes or stuff. tbh I just added everything I've made after April 3rd 2023 since that was the last time I uploaded anything to sfs.

I guess while I'm here... I was going to wait until after I finish up the last of my active requests (probably by Monday, I'm almost done) but I desperately need a break from CC. I sent a group message on the 17th to my $4 and $6 patrons encouraging them to cancel, but I know not everybody knows patreon even has dms so maybe you'll see this post and I'll reach out again in the coming days so nobody is wasting their money. I am so immensely burnt out and I need to not create for a while. This is completely my own fault, nobody made me work on CC for 8-10 hours 5 days a week for the last several months and I fully knew it wasn't sustainable ages ago but I kept doing it because it made me feel good, until it didn't. Quite honestly, even before I sent the group message the instant wave of relief I felt just having made the decision to take a break... that caught me off guard but just confirmed I need this. I do feel really awful about it because I feel like I'm letting people down but at the same time I don't want to hate creating which was already happening. That being said, I don't know how long the lull in CC is going to be, and if you're only following me strictly for CC I apologize. As said I am still finishing up one request I still had, I'm about 75% done with that as of this post. But that's gonna be it for a while.

There is a part of me that wants to stop using patreon completely and unpublish my creator page (which is what I'm not going to impulsively do tonight without properly thinking it through...since there are positives like how easy it is to download files and whatnot) but I'd again encourage not only those who joined the $4 and $6 tiers but also the $2 tier to cancel so that you aren't wasting your money. If I did do this I would definitely do the individual sfs links on everything first. I'd not just leave you guys unable to download my stuff.

So, what does that mean for this blog? I'll spare ye, impatient readers, who have already read a lot because I ramble⬇️

Well, as of posting this I still have THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY FOUR Strangetown posts in my queue. And I'm not tired of playing that.

I'm looking forward to having an opportunity to do all of the things I've been neglecting. I'm finally going to go through the subfolder within my downloads of everything I'm downloaded the last few months and decide if I wanna keep it in my game or not. And finish default replacing everything. And all my other various little projects I haven't been doing.

Also, I want to start playing Veronaville 😮I've already started downloading lots from kattaty to replace the in-game ones, and I found a cool replacement for the neighborhood map. I am leaning towards making a new sub-blog for this so that you don't have to try and follow Strangetown/LFT posts and Veronaville/ALT posts at the same time. I've only ever played the Veronaville sims for like one day as part of a super failed megahood years ago so I'd like to get to know them.

So basically, I guess I'm a gameplay blog for now? Until I want to create anything again anyways, but I don't know when that will be.

I don't know how to end this post... I'm sorry for the disappointment, but thank you so much for enjoying my stuff 💛💛

[mxrvelouss]

The Neighbor Across the Street **Headcanon!**

this is just a little headcanon i have for @lavendertom 's mike schmidt x reader fic! it would probably happen sometime after pt 3 but that might change once the full thing is posted! :)

warnings: mentions of drunk driving + kidnapping

note: i havent even seen the movie yet so forgive me if the characters are "off" at all 😭😭 but i rly wanted to write this bc i am delulu! ok anyways ENJOY!

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

It was another night of babysitting for Abby, the little sister of Mike Schmidt. The air was chilly, but the hoodie that Mike gave you kept you warm as you walked out his front door. It was nearly morning at this point- almost 5am- but, as always, Mike stood in the doorway to make sure that you crossed the street safely. You turned and looked back at him as you neared the end of his short driveway, returning the smile that spread under his tired eyes. You tried to push away the feelings you had for him, but deep down you knew it was futile. Why else would you be grinning like a maniac as you walked away, already daydreaming about the next time you see him?

After all, you were so focused on Mike, you didn't even hear the car that was suddenly speeding down the normally quiet street.

Mike noticed it, though, and his face contorted with fear. "Watch out, y/n!" he screamed as he sprinted out of the doorway and down the driveway.

You turned to see what must've been a drunken driver speeding towards you, headlights off, but you were frozen. It probably would've ended your life if Mike didn't leap and shove you out of the way just in time.

And then you were on the ground, your back aching from the impact, staring into Mike's wild eyes. Through the pounding in your ears, you heard as Mike cussed out the driver. The car swerved down the road but eventually turned onto the next street. He turned back to you, panicked.

"Oh, my God! Y/n! Are you alright? Oh, my God, I...." His eyes were wide, and they starting to fill up with tears. You had never seen him so scared. He turned around to make sure the car was gone, and then immediately pulled you up and into a tight embrace. The two of you sat on the street, arms wrapped around each other, and he started to sob into your shoulder.

"Mike," you say quietly as you hold him tight. "Mike, I'm okay." Your heartbeat was slowing down, and now all that mattered to you was that he would be okay.

He pulls away, his hands on your shoulders. He was trembling. "If it hit you, I don't know what I would've done..."

"But it didn't hit me," you say softly. "You saved me." You knew that he had already lost so much, and you also knew the fact that you could've died or at least gotten hurt tonight was tearing him apart. You felt helpless as you stared into those dark, worried eyes, wanting nothing more than for him to be at peace.

You stand up, brushing the gravel off your jeans, and offer Mike your hand. He takes it and stands up, and you both stand there, your hands intertwined. A tear falls down Mike's cheek. "Are you sure you're okay?"

The concerned tone in his voice makes you want to cry yourself, but you hold it in. "Yes," you say as you impulsively go on your tip-toes and give him a soft kiss on the cheek. And finally, as you pull back, there is a hint of a smile on Mike's face.

"Now go and get some sleep," you say as you slowly let go of Mike's hands and turn to go to your house. He watched you make your way up the porch steps, the feeling of your lips lingering on his cheek, and then finally turned around to walk back to his house.

And this time, it was you who watched from your doorway and made sure that he crossed the street safely.

****

It was mid-afternoon of the next day. You tried to focus on studying for your cybersecurity exam that you had coming up; your laptop and textbooks were sprawled all over your bed. But all that was on your mind was Mike, and the fear that was written all over his face when he thought you could've been hurt, or worse.

And then the kiss. You couldn't believe you kissed him. Well, it wasn't a full-on kiss, but it was still something. What did he think of it? you wondered. To be honest, you weren't fully sure what to think of it yourself. Was it just out of platonic love, or...romantic? And if it was romantic...

Did he feel the same way?

You shut your hardcover textbooks with a loud thump and got up from your bed. I should go check on him, you thought. Nobody was home at the moment, so no one would question you going to see the guy whose sister you babysit. Pulling on a light hoodie and fixing your hair, you head downstairs to put on your shoes. Just as you finished tying the laces, the doorbell rings. And then, several rounds of knocking.

You rush to the door and open it, and there in the doorway is Mike. You start to smile, prepared to say that you were just about to see him, but the excitement quickly faded as you realized the panicked expression that was on his face.

"Mike? Wh-"

"Abby's gone," he frantically interrupted.

Your stomach drops.

"Wh-what?" you reply. What do you mean, 'she's gone'?!"

"She's gone!" he shouts. "I-I fell asleep on the couch while she was, I dunno, playing, and when I woke up, the front door was open and I couldn't find her anywhere."

You look at Mike, noticing how his hair was a mess, and he was in sweatpants and socks. His cheeks turn red. "I'm sorry, I just panicked and came here-"

"No!" You didn't want him to feel self-concious. None of that mattered. "What only matters right now is that we find Abby," you say with all the confidence you can muster, although now you were starting to feel your palms sweat and your body shake. Where could she be? What if she was hurt? Or...kidnapped, like Mike's brother?

No. You can't think about that right now. Closing the door behind you, you grab Mike's hand and start to pull him toward his house, where the front door was still wide open. "Maybe she's just playing hide and seek!" you say nervously. "Let's double check the house." Once you're both inside, you shout her name, checking absolutely everywhere. Behind the couch. Behind the TV. Under the kitchen table. Under her bed. Under Mike's bed. In the closet. But after about 10 minutes, she was still nowhere to be found.

In the living room, Mike was crying now, and for the second day in a row you found yourself staring into those worried eyes. You grip his arms tightly. "We're going to find her," you say with so much intensity that it suprises you. "Mike, listen to me. We will find her-"

"How could this happen?!" he suddenly screams. "First Garrett, and now- now--" He stops in his tracks as he glances at the TV, which had been on this whole time. A car commercial was playing. "Oh, my God," he mutters. "Oh, no."

"What?" you ask frantically. "What is it?!"

He turns back to you, his face pale. "The drunk driver last night. I cursed at him. What if Abby went outside while I was asleep and he came back and-" Mike looked down, tears streaming down his face. He could barely bring himself to say it, but in a quiet voice, he finishes the sentence. "...and...took her?"

"Mike, that's crazy," you try to assure him. "Why would someone do that over a curse word? I'm sure she's just nearby somewhere. Maybe she wanted to ride her bike around the block." But deep down, you feared that his statement might be true. People are crazy nowadays. And if it wasn't that driver, what if someone else took her?

"We need to call the police," you say, whipping out your phone and dialing 911. After explaining the situation, the two of you go outside and run down the street, screaming Abby's name at the top of your lungs.

Nothing. The pain and fear you feel is so strong, but it must be nothing compared to what Mike is feeling. You try to reassure him, telling him that Abby's fine, that you'll find her, but he seems to be in a different world, as if he's not hearing a word you're saying.

Several police cars pull up, and that seems to snap him out of it. You run back to Mike's house to meet with one of the officers. "The whole unit is searching the neighborhood as well as the nearby ones," he says. "All you can do right now is wait."

"Wait?" Mike says, anger rising in his voice. "My little sister is missing! I can't just wait and act like nothing's happening-"

"Mike," you try to softly interrupt. He ignores you as he keeps shouting at the officer. "You have to find her! You have to find my sister!! I can't just-"

"Mike", you say, louder this time. You set your hand on his shoulder, and he turns and looks at you. You notice the panic swirling in his eyes. "It's okay," you whisper as you pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his trembling, strong body. "It's all going to be okay."

*****

The two of you sit at the kitchen table, writing down everything you can think of about Mike's sister and her appearence. You also write down everything you can think of about the car from last night, but it was so dark, and it all happened so fast....

It was nearly 8pm, and there was still no sign of Abby Schmidt.

Mike stops writing and buries his face in his hands. "What if they can't find her, y/n?"

"They will," you say, but you were losing hope with each passing hour.

"I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if..."

You suddenly reach across the table and grab Mike's hand, holding it firmly. "No matter what happens, I will be here, Mike." He looks at you, and a flicker of hope flashes across his face. You continue. "I will always be here."

He looks at you, shocked. And then he gives a small smile, and you smile back, giving him a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

"Thank you, y/n," he says gratefully. A tear falls from his eyes, but you can tell that he is calming down.

Right after you let go, there's a knock at the door, and in a flash, the two of you are there. Mike quickly opens it, and you wait hopefully behind him, too scared to breathe.

In the doorway is a young woman with blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, and at her side...

Abby.

Mike lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God!" he says. Abby leaps into Mike's arms, and the two hug for a while. You and the officer tearfully watch, grinning at their reunion. Mike lets his sister go but still protectively holds her hand.

"What happened?" you ask, looking at both Abby and the officer.

"She was in the next neighborhood over..." The officer that Mike had talked to earlier starts to approach from behind the blonde-haired one. "Because she found this." In his arms is a big, gray cat.

Confusion registers on Mike's face, and then understanding. He starts to laugh in disbelief. "Abby!" he exclaims. "All of this...was over a stupid cat?!"

You let out a sigh of relief as well. So it wasn't the driver that abducted her... or anyone else. Thank God.

"I didn't mean to scare you!" Abby blurts. "It's just- I saw it from the window, and while you were sleeping I snuck outside to follow it...but I guess I went too far. I got lost...until Miss Vanessa found me." Abby gestures to the woman officer, and then looks back at Mike and buries her face in his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Mike..." She looks up as you through watery eyes. "You too, y/n. I didn't mean for this to happen..."

You bend down and hug both her and Mike. "It's okay," you say.

"I'm just so happy you're okay," Mike says. "But don't you EVER do that again, you hear me?"

"Or no more Freddy's for you!" you add in, causing the group to laugh. Mike stands up with tearful eyes. "Thank you, Vanessa," he says with genuine gratefulness.

"Yes," you add in. "Thank you!"

"No problem. It happens." She looks at Mike. "You have an amazing little sister right there."

Mike smiles as he pulls Abby into a side hug. "I sure do," he says.

"And she has an amazing brother," you say as you pull him in and give him another kiss on the cheek. He stares at you for a moment, and then presses his lips to yours.

"Thank you, y/n," he says as he pulls back with a smile. You smile back, blushing, but then the two of you become aware of Abby and the two officers standing right outside your door. Abby breaks the silence.

"Well, if you two can kiss, then I should be able to get the cat!" she says, half-disgusted. Everyone laughs again, and you pull the Schmidt's into a tight hug, wanting to just hold them forever and never let go.

[fuck-customers]

a guy came in last night acting WEIRD, like weird weird. we have candy bars on the counter for people to impulse buy and he was drilling me about the brownie snickers. I told him I don't really like snickers, so I don't have any opinion on the brownie ones. since obviously, I never even tried them before. tell me why he was here for like TWENTY MINUTES trying to make me convince him to buy it and saying that he had "better be able to return it" and demanded his receipt in case. this might not sound creepy on paper but the way he was staring at me the whole time, dead-eyed and emotionless, was freaky. at first I chalked it up to neurodivergency or something since I'm autistic and I look like that sometimes.

when he finally left I was SO relieved, like as if a tiger that was about to eat me left kind of relieved. and then he came back in tonight, this time with a friend.

first off, he was telling me all about how he bought cigarettes earlier. two packs, he asked for the deal that requires us to scan our card for. His friend and him kept bickering about that and not shutting up so that's when I knew I was about to be there for a long time, again. then he saw the snickers again and now they're bickering about it, and asking me if it's any good. I'm like? You bought one yesterday, did you not try it? Also you should have known from yesterday, that I've never tried it before. His friend starts going on about how I'm lying and it's actually bad because the company is making me lie about it. Totally ignored that I kept saying I just literally never had one before. I was about to go insane trying to deal with two of the same freak and then a young woman walks in.

They pounced on her immediately! randomly assaulting her about the snickers and then going in about what she wants to do with her life and where she wants to travel, and then asking her if they could take her to other countries. Said "you wanna hang out with us? So we could do a little one night stand? There's no cameras outside the store" Alarms start going off. These guys are CREEPS for sure, and not just a little awkward. The snickers thing was just a front to be able to bother me longer.

she's like, immune to this though and is acting like they're all friends. They go outside to stand by the car and as she's buying her stuff I'm like, "stay here until they leave". She waves me off and is like "nah they're cool, we're friends now" and as soon as she leaves they're bothering her again. Right after another young woman shows up and says to me that she is going to hang out until they leave because she saw them gawking at her like a piece of meat, and she had no idea why the first woman was crazy enough to hang out with them out there. We waited forever waiting for them to leave, and for some reason the first woman drove off first, letting them have ample time to follow her out. they were driving really really slow around the parking lot and left super slowly.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[nariism]

links ➠ event info ✧ rules ✧ send a request!

works will be added here in no particular order as they get (probably slowly) completed ^ ^ due to similar submissions, some requests have been combined into one. subject to change !!

BLUE LOCK

wherever you are, wherever you may be — i. rin

soulmates + "i'm done waiting."

7 years ago, itoshi rin saw the rising sun, the falling moon—every part of the wondrous sky.

another sunny day — i. rin

handcuffed together + matchmaking gone wrong

rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously.

to the ends of our world — i. rin

academic rivals to lovers + "i could kiss you right now!" + "we fell asleep by accident and woke up as a mess of tangled limbs."

it's something ripped straight out of a cliché rom-com: the person he can't help but envy and respect, waking up next to him in bed.

always watching over you — i. rin

enemies to lovers + drunk confession

if rin hates you then why is he calling you up at two in the morning?

the voice in my heart — i. sae

forced proximity + "oh no, the power went out, however will we stay warm?!" (/s)

itoshi sae doesn't like how mushy you make him feel, but the warmth is nice. kinda.

those words you spoke to me — i. sae

"i think i'm in love with you." + "don't look at me that way." + unrequited love (damn are you ok)

you were always staring at itoshi sae's back. he was forever chasing something greater, not once turning around to see that look in your eyes.

the love that binds us — i. yoichi

mutual pining + "i could kiss you right now!"

isagi yoichi already has you wrapped around his finger. now all he has to do is be brave about it. or, you know. impulsive.

GENSHIN IMPACT

across the violet sky — lyney

"you look beautiful in the moonlight."

all that fretting was over nothing, because he's looking at you now and the only thing he can think of saying is...

ink to paper — k. ayato

mutual & oblivious pining + "don't look at me that way."

yes, he thinks. what would he do without you? well, his schedule would be a mess, for one. and he wouldn't know how to cut bunny ears into his apples, either.

a simple mission — neuvillette

accidental confession + "say it again. please."

oh. oh no. you were most certainly not supposed to overhear this conversation between the iudex and the duke, but now you don't even know how to act right.

HAIKYUU

a place to call home — k. shinsuke

one bed + childhood rivals to lovers

"be kind, shinsuke." that's what yumie always told her grandson. and he would live by those words, even if it meant sleeping on the floor every weekend.

strangeling — u. wakatoshi

"we're fighting. i'll take the couch tonight." ➡️ (bonus) "we were fighting???"

it's not fair. how are you supposed to stay mad at him if he's going to choose you over the comfort of his bed?

JUJUTSU KAISEN

what it means to love — f. megumi

accidental confession + "do you want my jacket?"

turns out that being raised by gojo means sometimes accidentally throwing all inhibition into the wind.

letters from heaven — g. satoru

"i think i'm in love with you." + "wait, don't pull away... not yet." + oblivious pining

he never thought he was capable of loving again.

CHAINSAW MAN

adamantine dreams — h. aki

one bed + "wait, don't pull away... not yet."

there was a time before you when aki found it hard to sleep. call it sleep debt or whatever, but he's going to squeeze every ounce of rest he can get from his body now.

© NARIISM 2024 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[achaotichuman]

Personal Rant

TW- Discussions of attempted rape, homophobia and transphobia.

I just got back from church, unfortunately I have to attend lest I risk disownment from everyone I have ever known or loved, and I need to share my thoughts out loud, or I am going to literally explode.

First and foremost, if my brother (for example) came home and told me that his boss had tried to force him to have sex with her, to the point that she grabbed him and tried to force him down. Then he had to shove her away and leave his coat behind because she had grabbed it, I would not be congratulating him on resisting the temptation of sex, I would be calling the police and filing a report for attempted rape.

Joseph's story of being forced down by Pharoah's wife, and just narrowly escaping is not a story that shows how he was a man of God who refused a temptation from the devil. It is the story of a victim of attempted SA and systemic oppression. He was then thrown in jail because Pharoah's wife claimed he had raped her. That isn't the story of him trusting in God, even if he was later released and appointed to a higher position of power. I am certain if we asked Joseph, he would not want to go through any of those trials again. They were not proof of his loyalty to God; they were the result of him being preyed on by a person of higher authority.

The fact that this people are trying to sell this story as a great act of resistance against the temptation of the devil, and not the heartbreaking story of a victim who was not given justice until literal decades after is disgusting to me.

Latching off of this, they tried to make out like Joseph nearly being raped is a good example of resisting homosexual impulses. One commentary from someone was likening homosexuality to being a diabetic. In her words "If you have diabetes, that isn't your fault, but that means you should steer away from eating cake because that isnt good for you."

Basically, saying being gay is an illness like diabetes, and not a genuine part of a person. When talking about being transgender, all anyone wants to talk about is that some people 'identify as animals and that's disgusting.'

I'm transmasc, and I have to sit there and play the part as the pretty cishet young woman who serves god and agrees with everything being told.

I am sorry but tonight was my final straw because how fucking dare you liken Joseph escaping being SAed to a person resisting their natural urge to be themselves in the name of your god.

If you asked any of these people about being cishet, they would answer with God created man and woman to be together have relations with each other. Agreeing that wanting to be with someone and have sex with someone is an extremely natural thing and is a big part of their person.

But somehow that doesn't apply to gay people. Somehow, they simultaneously say that people are genuinely born gay, but at the same time that 'doesn't have to be a part of their person and they can resist it'.

And they claim to be completely non-hypocritical, and only speaking the truth of God.

Anyway, sorry for this, I strive to not post that much personal stuff because I want my blog to be an escape from the real world. But I needed to say this.

Please, if recognize the religion I am talking about here, do not put it in the comments. And please no one start arguing with me on these points, this is my venting and not an open topic.

I also wanna say thank you to everyone who interacts with me on this site, you guys have been my lifeline this past couple of months.

Okayyy I feel better after typing this, bye bye!

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

Assigning Every Fall Out Boy Song to The Life Series

because i'm a normal person with normal person feelings about fall out boy's discography and the life series. trust me.

“every” is a strong word here because fall out boy's discography is Literally Like 150+ Songs so i’m only doing the songs off their main 8 albums in this post. if enough people ask (which i seriously doubt will happen), i’ll do the eps+remixes as well.

sorry if there is an overabundance of certain characters/a lack of certain characters. i tried to include people are frequently as possible but a: i am inherently biased (though some of my faves are pretty underrepresented), b: not everyone has the same amount of content to draw from because they haven't all been in every season and c: some of these guys are simply not fall out boy characters to me. it's just how it is.

so, under the cut will be, in release order, every fall out boy song assigned to a life series character/event+the lyric that i think best represents why i assigned it.

TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE

Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today: DL!Pearl

To my favorite liar, to my favorite scar (to my favorite scar!)/I could have died with you/I hope you choke on those words that kiss that bottle/Confess (so bury me in memory)

Dead on Arrival: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

This is side one, flip me over/I know I'm not your favorite record/The songs you grow to like never stick at first/So I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse/No, it's not the last time, 'cause I'd never say no to you/This conversation's still dead on arrival/And there's no way to talk to you/When you're dead on

Grand Theft Autumn / Where Is Your Boy: DL!Etho (JUST TRUST ME. AND ALSO GO WATCH THE BIT WHERE FINDS OUT BDUBS+IMPULSE ARE SOULMATES)

When I wake up/I'm willing to take my chances on/The hope I'd forget that you hate him more than you notice/I wrote this for you (for you, so…)/You need him, I could be him/I could be an accident, but I'm still trying/And that's more than I can say for him/Where is your boy tonight?/I hope he is a gentleman

Saturday: SL!Gem

Pete and I attacked the laws of Astoria with promise and precision/And mess of youthful innocence/And I read about the afterlife, but I never really lived/More than an hour (More than an hour)/When I say/Two more weeks, my foot is in the door, yeah/I can't sleep, in the wake of Saturday

Homesick at Space Camp: Post 3L!Skizz

Tonight is all about "We miss you" now/These friends are, new friends are golden

Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here): Post DL!Joel

Every friend we ever had in common/I will sever the tie, sever the tie with you/You can thank your lucky stars/Everything I wish for will never come true/When you go, I will forget everything about you

Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: LimL!Martyn

You want apologies, girl, you might hold your breath/Until your breathing stops forever, forever/The only thing you'll get is this curse on your lips/I hope they taste of me forever

The Pros and Cons of Breathing: DL!Pearl

Woah, I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself/You know that I could crush you with my voice/Stood on my roof and tried to see you/Forgetting about me/Hide the details/I don't want to know a thing

Grenade Jumper: The Heart Foundation

They'll say it's not worth it, so we'll leave this town in ruin/Living like life's going out of style, and you came to watch us play/Like a "big shot talent", but at the end of the day you know/Woah, those busted lips we take back home

Calm Before The Storm: DL!Ren

You said/Between your smiles and regrets/"Don't say it's over"/Dead and gone, dead and gone, yeah

Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over: DL!Jimmy and Tango

I can't wake up to these reminders of who I am/A failure at everything, 18 going on extinct/I know my place, it's nowhere you should roam

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes: SL!Jimmy

I'm all ears and I'm all scars/To hear you tell me, "Boys like you, you try too hard/To look not quite as desperate," I'm hanging on/But I still know the way to make your makeup run/So, and when it all goes to Hell, will you be able to tell/Me "sorry" with a straight face?

FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE

Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued: 3L!Impulse

We're only liars but we're the best (We're the best)/We're only good for the latest trends/We're only good 'cause you can have almost famous friends/Besides, we've got such good fashion sense

Of All The Gin Joints In All The World: 3L!Ren and Martyn

You only hold me up like this/'Cause you don't know who I really am/Sometimes I just want to know what it's like to be you

Dance, Dance: DL!Bigb and Ren (Ren perspective, also this is specifically applicable most antagonistic moments of their relationship we get, to be clear. This is not the usual approach I take to them.)

You always fold just before you're found out/Drink up it's last call/Last resort, but only the first mistake, and I/I'm two quarters and a heart down/And I don't want to forget how your voice sounds/These words are all I have so I'll write them/So you need them just to get by/Why don't you show me a little bit of spine/You've been saving for his mattress, love

Sugar, We’re Goin Down: Martyn

We're going down, down in an earlier round (Take aim at myself)/And sugar, we're going down swingin' (Take back what you said)/I'll be your number one with a bullet (Take aim at myself)/A loaded God complex, cock it and pull it

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner: LL!Cleo

I keep my jealousy close/'Cause it's all mine/And if you say this makes you happy, then I'm not the only one/Lyin'

I’ve Got A Dark Alley And A Bad Idea That Says You Should Shut Your Mouth (Summer Songs): Joel

Joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of "best friends"/We're the kids who feel like dead ends/And I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses/I took a shot and didn't even come close

7 Minutes In Heaven (Atavan Halen): LimL!Grian

Sitting out dances on the wall/Trying to forget everything that isn't you/I'm not going home alone/'Cause I don't do too well on my own

Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year: SL!Skizz

We're the therapists pumping through your speakers/Delivering just what you need/We're well-read and poised/We're the best boys/We're the chemists who've found the formula/To make your heart swell and burst/No matter what they say/Don't believe a word

Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends: DL!Joel and Etho

Strike us like matches, 'cause everyone deserves the flames/We only do it for the scars and stories, not the fame/At least everyone is trying, everyone is shining/Everyone deserves the flames but it's such a shame, such a shame

I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me: Scott

I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends/And I am sorry my conscience called in sick again/And I've got arrogance down to a science/Oh, and I'm the first kid to write of hearts, lies, and friends, now

A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More “Touch Me”: LL!BigB

I confess, I messed up/Dropping "I'm sorry" like you're still around/And I know you dressed up/"Hey, kid, you'll never live this down"/And you're just the girl all the boys wanna dance with/And I'm just the boy who's had too many chances/I'm sleepin' on your folks' porch again, dreamin'/She said, she said, she said, "Why don't you just drop dead?"

Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (Do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows): DL!Grian and Scar (Scar POV)

I know this hurts, it was meant to (it was meant to)/Your secret's out and the best part is it isn't even a good one/And it's mind over you don't, don't matter

XO: LL!Mumbo (Look, this is a stretch, I'll be real, but this song was giving me so much fucking trouble. Let me live.)

To the "love," I left my conscience/Pressed between the pages of/The Bible in the drawer, "What did it ever do for me"/I say/It never calls me when I'm down/Love never wanted me, but I took it anyway/Put your ear to the speaker and choose love or sympathy/But never both, love never wanted me

Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers: SL!Tango

Here's a picture with a note, "No, don't turn out like me"/It's only for your own good/No-oh, oh, oh/And haven't you heard, the word on the street is/"I lost it, called it quits," get out into the sun

The Music Or The Misery: LL!Bdubs and Etho (Etho perspective)

I got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back/It's true, romance is dead, I shot it in the chest then in the head/And if you wanna go down in history then I'm your friend/Because they've got me in a band where I've never seen a heart I couldn't break

INFINITY ON HIGH

Thriller: SL!Scar

Last summer, we took threes across the board/But by fall, we were a cover story, "Now in stores"/Make us poster boys for your scene/But we are not making an acceptance speech

“The Take Over, The Breaks Over”: LimL!Cleo

Wouldn't you rather be a widow than a divorcee?/Style your wake for fashion magazines, oh-oh-oh/Widow or a divorcee?/Don't pretend, d-d-d-don't pretend/We do it in the dark with smiles on our faces/We're trapped and well concealed in secret places/We don't fight fair

This Ain’t A Scene. It’s An Arms Race: SL!Scar

I am an arms dealer/Fitting you with weapons in the form of words/And don't really care which side wins/Long as the room keeps singing/That's just the business I'm in

I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You): SL!Jimmy and Martyn

We're the new face of failure/Prettier and younger, but not any better off/Bulletproof loneliness/At best, at best

Hum Hallelujah: LL!Cleo

I thought I loved you, it was just how you looked in the light/A teenage vow in a parking lot/'Til tonight do us part/I sing the blues and you swallow them too/My words are my faith, to hell with our good name

Golden: Joel (LimL especially, but also just in general)

How cruel is the golden rule/When the lives we lived are only golden-plated?/And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me/Though I carried carats for everyone to see/And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies/And all the lovers with no time for me/And all of the mothers raise their babies/To stay away from me

Thnks fr th Mmrs: LimL!BigB and Pearl

Been looking forward to the future/But my eyesight is going bad/And this crystal ball…/It's always cloudy except for (Except for…)/When you look into the past (Look into the past…)/One night stand…/One night stand off!

Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am?: LimL!Skizz

They say quitters never win/But we walk the plank on a sinking ship/There's a world outside of my front door/That gets off on being down/Oh-oh, oh-oh/I could learn to pity fools as I'm the worst of all/And I can't stop feeling sorry for myself, whoa-oh

The (After) Life Of The Party: Scar, again. I don't know what to tell you, this is a very Scar album.

I'm a stitch away from making it/And a scar away from falling apart, apart/Blood cells pixelate and eyes dilate/And the full moon pills got me out on the street at night

The Carpal Tunnel Of Love: LL!Mumbo and Jimmy

Tired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawns/We're the has-beens of husbands/Sharpening the knives of young wives/Take two years and call me when you're better

Bang The Doldrums: DL+LimL!Jimmy and Tango

The tombstones were waiting, they were half-engraved/They knew it was over, they just didn't know the date…/And I cast a spell over the west to make you think of me/The same way I think of you/This is a love song in my own way/Happily ever after below the waist/Best friends, ex-friends 'til the end/Better off as lovers

Fame > Infamy: LL!Joel

I am God's gift, but why would he bless me with/Such wit without a conscience equipped/I'm addicted to the way I feel when I think of you, whoa/There's too much green to feel blue

You’re Crashing, But You’re No Wave: This is far from the only FOB song about a sensitive topic but it's one of the like... two that I don't feel comfortable assigning to something.

I’ve Got All This Ringing In My Ears And None On My Fingers: DL!BigB

You're a canary, I'm a coal mine/'Cause sorrow is just all the rage/Take one for the team/You all know what I mean/And I'm so sorry but not really/Tell the boys where to find my body

G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: DL!Impulse and Bdubs

Trade baby blues for wide eyed browns/I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house in your shoes/You know, it's strange/It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you/I'm supposed to love you/I've already given up on myself twice/Third time is the charm, third time is the charm/Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a/Lousy arm

It’s Hard To Say “I Do”, When I Don’t: Am I allowed to say this is a Watchers song? I don't care I'm saying it.

I speak fast and I'm not gonna repeat myself, no/So listen carefully to every word I say/I'm the only one who's gonna get away/With making excuses today/You're appealing to emotions that I simply do not have

FOLIE A DEUX

Disloyal Order Of Water Buffaloes: Impulse

Oh, I'm a loose bolt of a complete machine/What a match, I'm half-doomed, and you're semi-sweet/So boycott love, detox just to retox/And I'd promise you anything for another shot at life

I Don’t Care: LL!Fairy Fort

Let the leaves fall off in the summer/And let December glow in flames (In flames; oh)/Erase myself and let go/Start it over again in Mexico/These friends, they don't love you/They just love the hotel suites now

She’s My Winona: SL!Martyn

We didn't come to compete, this is a demonstration/Even the young ones become irrelevant/They always bring up how you've changed

America’s Suitehearts: SL!Gem

Let's hear it for America's suitehearts, but I must confess/I'm in love with my own sins/You can bow and pretend that/You don't, don't know you're a legend, oh/Time, time, time hasn't told anyone else yet

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet: LimL+SL!Cleo, Bdubs, and Etho

Does your husband know the way that/The sunshine gleams from your wedding band?/Does he know the way, does he know the way/Of the crickets that would convince me to call it a night?/But I will never end up like him/Behind my back, I already am

The (Shipped) Gold Standard: LimL!Bdubs

All the yes-men said "No comment"/My mouth got going/The wrong way, and all the calls started snowing/The time my dad caught me a horseshoe crab/And I asked him if throwing it back into the sea would bring our luck back/I wanna scream "I love you" from the top of my lungs/But I'm afraid that someone else will hear me

(Coffee’s For Closers): LL!BigB

Though change will come, oh, change will come/I will never believe in anything again/We will never believe again/Kick drum beating in my chest again/No, we will never believe again/Preach electric to a microphone stand, oh

What A Catch, Donnie: This song is a compilation of different vocalists from bands associated with the band, a compilation of previous songs of theirs, and one of the only FOB ballads. I can't pull a specific lyric, but this one could be solidly used for a compilation/retrospective of every season so far.

27: This is the other one I don't feel comfortable assigning to anything. Moving on.

Tiffany Blews: SL!Lizzie

I'm not a crybaby/I'm the crybaby/A caterpillar that got stuck/Mr. Moth, come quick with any luck/A long walk to a dark house/A Roman candle heart, keep us far apart/I'm cocktail party doin' alright, hate me baby/Maybe I'm a piece of art/Oh, my friends all lie and say/They only want the best wishes for me

w. a. m. s.: LL!Mumbo

I'm a young one stuck in the thoughts/Of an old one's head/When all the others were just stirrin' awake/I'm tryin' to trick myself to fall asleep again, whoa

20 Dollar Nose Bleed: Dogwarts

When I look at the man who would be king, the man who would be king/Goes to the desert, the same war his dad rehearsed/Came back with flags on coffins and said, "We won, oh, we won"/Permanent jet lag, please take me back (Please take me back)/Please take me back, (ooh, ooh)/I'm a stray dog sick, please let me in

West Coast Smoker: SL!Joel

Wishes bounce me weightless/The infrared scope on pointlessness/The bulls are sedated/And this fight's fixed

Pavlove: SL!Tango

Something make my chest stir/Something make my head blur/Oh, oh, I'm not ready for a handshake with death, no/Oh, oh, I'm just such a happy mess, whoa

SAVE ROCK AND ROLL

The Phoenix: Team TIES

Bring home the boys in scraps, scrap metal the tanks/Get hitched, make a career out of robbing banks/Because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks/"You broke our spirit," says the note we pass

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light Em Up): LL!Cleo

I've got the scars from tomorrow and I wish you could see/That you're the antidote to everything except for me/Through a constellation of tears on your lashes/Burn everything you love then burn the ashes

Alone Together: The Roomies (Cleo, Etho, and Grian)

I don't know where you're going/But do you got room for one more troubled soul?/I don't know where I'm going/But I don't think I'm coming home/And I said, "I'll check in tomorrow if I don't wake up dead"/This is the road to ruin and we're starting at the end

Where Did The Party Go: LL!Tango

I'm here to collect your hearts/It's the only reason that I sing/I don't believe a word you say/But I can't stop listening

Just One Yesterday: LL!Bdubs and Etho

If heaven's grief brings hell's rain/Then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday/(I know I'm bad news)/For just one yesterday/(I saved it all for you)

The Mighty Fall: DL!Divorce Quartet

Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme and I'm dizzy on dreams/(And I'm dizzy on dreams)/But if you ask me two's a whole lot lonelier than one/Baby, we should have left our love in the gutter where we found it/(Gutter where we found it)/'Cause you think, you think your only crime is that you got caught

Miss Missing You: Impulse and Bdubs (Impulse POV)

Baby, you were my picket fence, I miss missing you now and then/Chlorine kissed summer skin, I miss missing you now and then/Sometimes before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger/The person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger/Oh, we're fading fast, I miss missing you now and then

Death Valley: This is the soundtrack to the LL Battle Royale Finale

We're going to die, it's just a matter of time/Hard times come, good times go/I'm either gone in an instant/Or here 'til the bitter end, I never know

Young Volcanoes: The Heart Foundation

C'mon, make it easy, say I never mattered/Run it up the flag pole/We will teach you how to make boys next door/Out of assholes (Hahaha!)/Tonight, the foxes hunt the hounds/It's all over now

Rat A Tat: LL!Grian and Mumbo (mostly Grian POV)

But I'll take your heart served up two ways/I sing a bitter song/I'm the lonelier version of you/I just don't know where it went wrong

Save Rock And Roll: DL!Pearl

I cried tears you'll never see/So fuck you, you can go cry me an ocean, and leave me be/You are what you love, not who loves you/In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream/No, no (No, no)/Wherever I go, go (go, go)/Trouble seems to follow

AMERICAN BEAUTY/AMERICAN PSYCHO

Irresistible: SL!Gem and Pearl (Gem POV)

Count me in unannounced, drag my nails on the tile/I just follow your scent/You can't just follow my smile/All of your flaws are aligned with this mood of mine/Cutting me to the bone/Nothing left to leave behind/You ought to keep me concealed just like I was a weapon/I didn't come for a fight but I will fight till the end/This might be your battle, might not turn out okay/You know you look so Seattle, but you feel so LA

American Beauty/American Psycho: LL!Scott

I think I fell in love again/Maybe I just took too much cough medicine/I'm the best worst thing that hasn't happened to you yet/The best worst thing/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/You take the full, full truth, then you pour some out/And you can kill me, kill me or let God sort ‘em out

Centuries: LimL!Martyn

And I can't stop 'til the whole world knows my name/Cause I was only born inside my dreams/Until you die for me, as long as there's a light, my shadow's over you/Cause I am the opposite of amnesia

The Kids Aren’t Alright: The Mounders

It twists my head just a bit to think/All those people in those old photographs I've seen are dead/And in the end/I'd do it all again/I think you're my best friend

Uma Thurman: 3L!Cleo

You'll find your way/And may death find you alive/Take me down the line/In Gem City, we turn the tide

Jet Pack Blues: Impulse and Bdubs

Honey, don't you leave/Don't you remember how we used to split a drink?/It never mattered what it was, I think/Our heads were just that close/The sweetness never lasts, you know

Novocaine: Guess what, it's Joel again. I'm not even a Joel main why is this happening.

In the truly gruesome do we trust/I will always land on you like a sucker punch/Singing I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare

Fourth Of July: LL!Lizzie and Cleo (Lizzie POV)

I said I'd never miss you/But I guess you never know/May the bridges I have burned/Light my way back home on the fourth of July/I wish I'd known how much you loved me/I wish I cared enough to know

Favorite Record: Post DL!Jimmy

You were the song stuck in my head/Every song that I've ever loved/Play it again and again and again/And you can get what you want but it's never enough

Immortals: 3L!Grian and Scar

I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, glass (Glass)/(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)/Oh, I try to picture me without you, but I can’t/'Cause we could be immortals/Immortals/Just not for long, for long/And live with me forever now/Mmm, pull the blackout curtains down/Just not for long, for long

Twin Skeleton’s (Hotel In NYC): SL!Martyn and Jimmy

I just need enough of you to dull the pain/Just to get me through the night 'till we're twins again/'Til we're stripped down to our skeletons again/'Til we're saints just swimming in our sins again/And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on/Up above our heads droning on and on and on/Keep making trouble 'til you find what you love/I need a new partner in crime and you, you shrug that

MANIA

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea: 3L!Ren

I'm 'bout to go Tonya Harding on the whole world's knee/And I'm stuck, night vision, so stuck, night vision/But I come to life, come to life/Some princes don't become kings/Even at the best of times, I'm out of my mind/You only get what you grieve

The Last Of The Real Ones: Bdubs

My head is stripped, just like a screw that's been tightened too many times/When I think of you, when I think of you/I will shield you from the waves if they find you/I will protect you, I will protect you/Just tell me, tell me, tell me I, I am the only one/Even if it's not true, even if it's not true, yeah

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T: DL+LimL!Etho and Joel

I got too high again, realized I can't not be with you/Or be just your friend, I love you to death, but I just can't/I just can't pretend, we weren't lovers first/Confidants but never friends, were we ever friends?/But when your stitch comes loose, I wanna sleep on/Every piece of fuzz and stuffing that comes out of you/You, I took too many hits off this memory/I need to come down/An-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-nother day goes by/So hold me tight, hold me tight, or don't/Oh n-n-no, no, this isn't how our story ends

Wilson (Expensive Mistakes): LL!Bdubs

There's nothing more cruel than to be loved by everybody but you (but you)/Than to be loved by everybody but you, (but you) but you/If I could get my shit together/I'm gonna run away and never see any of you again/Never see any of you again/I hope the roof flies off and we get blown out into space/I-I always make such expensive mistakes

Church: SL!Lizzie

I love the world/But I just don't love the way it makes me feel/Got a few more fake friends/And it's getting hard to know what's real/And if death is the last appointment/Then we're all just sitting in the waiting room (Mr. Stump?)/I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom

Heaven’s Gate: LimL!Skizz (right at the end)

I got dreams of my own, but I want to make yours come true/So please come through, honey please, please come through/Oh, go out in the world, start over again and again/As many times as you can

Champion: SL!Pearl

I got rage every day, on the inside/The only thing I do is sit around and kill the time/I'm trying to blow out the pilot light/I'm trying to blow out the light/I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe/But young enough not to know what to believe in/Young enough not to know what to believe/If I can live through this, if I can live through this/If I can live through this, I can do anything

Sunshine Riptide: LL!Scott

The world tried to burn all the mercy outta me/But you know I wouldn't let it/It tried to teach me the hard way, I can't forget it

Young And Menace: LimL!Martyn

We've gone way too fast for way too long/And we were never supposed to make it half this far/And I lived so much life, lived so much life/I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

Bishops Knife Trick: Bad Boys

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate/It doesn't wanna live in a cage, a feeling that I can't housebreak/And I'm yours 'til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll/Away, I'm struggling to exist with you and without you, yeah

SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST

Love From The Other Side: SL!Etho

I'd never go, I just want to be invited, oh, got to give up/Get the feeling, get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it/Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse/And I just about snapped, don't look back/Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Heartbreak Feels So Good: 3L!Grian

Is there a word for bad miracle?/Nobody said the road was endless/Nobody said the climb was friendless/But could we please pretend this won't end?

Hold Me Like A Grudge: DL!Pearl

(You put the "fun" into dysfunction)/Hold me, hold me like a grudge/The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up, woah/Faster and faster, can't do it on my own/Part-time soulmate, full-time problem, yeah/So hold me like a grudge

Fake Out: SL!Lizzie

But I didn't take the love when I had the chance/But I swear I'm not sad anymore/So make no plans and none can be broken/No plans and none can be broken/Do you laugh about me whenever I leave?/Or do I still need more therapy?

Heaven, Iowa: 3L!Scar

And they don't know how much they’ll miss/At least until you're gone like this/Talking to the mirror, say, "Save your breath/Half your life you've been hooked on death"

So Good Right Now: DL!Bdubs

And I know, I know I've made mistakes, yeah/And I know, I know, but at least they were mine to make/They were mine to make/And all of our wildest dreams, they just end up with a-you and me/So, let's drive until the engine just gives out

The Pink Seashell: Ok, I cannot pull a lyric for this because it is the world’s most specific monologue, but the general message of it (“Life is a lottery and bad shit happens all the time, so might as well find happiness in the good things, even the small things.”) feels like it could be Skizz. Just trust me. This one is so fucking difficult.

I Am My Own Muse: LimL!Jimmy

Here I am, not sure you should take a chance/I like playin' dumb, lettin' you figure me out/But I was faded, in my own defense/So, drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about

Flu Game: SL!Joel

Last night I dreamt I still knew you/You/I carved out a place in this world for two/But it's empty without you/I got all this love I've got to keep to myself/All this effort to make it look effortless

Baby Annihilation: Scott

The first time I took the mask off, just had another one on underneath

The Kintsugi Kid (Ten Years): LimL+ SL!Martyn (but mostly LimL)

Passed my old street, the house I grew up in/It breaks your heart, but four of the Ramones are dead/I felt you at the beginning, but needed you at the end/We're goin' low, low, low, low

What A Time To Be Alive: SL!Bigb

When, when, when I said, "Leave me alone", this isn't quite what I meant/I got the quarantine blues, bad news, what's left?/So, it seems the vulture's gettin' too full to fly, oh/What a time to be alive

So Much (For) Stardust: Ren

I'm in a winter mood, dreamin' of spring now/Burnin' myself down, burnin' myself down, burnin'/I feel like something that's been stretched out over and over again/Until I'm creased, and I'm about to break down the middle/Split me right down the middle, right, right down the middle, yeah

[proverbsss]

lion's den pt.2 (john tyler x reader) - nsfw

[read pt 1 here]

John Tyler, Tell Me Your Secrets

prompt(s): "Right there, that feels so good." [from this post]

notifs: john tyler is a bad bad man ; john's drugged and restrained reader, long-term ; in my mind this is cnc and i want people to consume media safely pls!! ; cutting clothes off with a blade, threats of bodily harm, John Tyler says 'jeepers' in a sexy way and this is the hill I will die on; explicitly AFAB reader; John objectifies you and defiles you in his thoughts; John says he loves you ; nipple play, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, clit rubbing, breeding, talk of john's dick size, john's aroused by your spit and tears, i'm going to hell

terms used for reader: lady, girl, pretty slut, sweet girl, beautiful

“Someone didn’t wear anything underneath tonight,”

John is peppering your face and neck with kisses. Adrenaline, and maybe something else you can’t bring yourself to admit to, are sharpening your focus. His warm, strong hands, having pushed your shirt hastily up to your neck, his fingers are wandering your chest now, the fingers of one finding one of your tits.

Decisively, softly, John squeezes your soft flesh and his thumb grazes your nipple. Then. You let out a little whine and John crushes you to him, his free hand cradling your head, pressing your face to the neck of his patterned shirt. Nothing to his smell is descript, deodorant, laundry detergent.

“Taking notes, huh cutie? Trying to figure out how I got so close, so inside your life? I know it’s a lot,” Laying this fake-pity on heavily, he pinches harder and twists your nipple, thrusts against your thigh–and you’re suddenly twice as aware of every place his body is touching yours, of which limb is where, because you can feel–him.

He grinds on you like a horned up dog, barely noticeable movements that get a little faster, a little more insistent each time. ”Sorry, it’s just so, so good to see you. I'm more than a little excited…”

"What do you want from me?" You're saying, but it's hollow, robotic. "Please don't hurt me." You put on as brave, as fierce a face as you can, but with the cocktail of fear and whatever John’s drugged you in your bloodstream, it'd be a flat out lie to deny that he is making you wet.

Seriously wet. Sex of any sort hasn’t been something you have a lot of time for lately. Your body's only human and is under a chemical onslaught provoking these needy impulses to boot.

"I only hurt ladies when they ask me for it." He says. That's anything but reassuring, especially the way he speaks it as half-joke, half-threat. And especially as it's all he says before burying his face in your chest, somewhere between your neck and your breasts, that sensitive plane of your clavicle that no one ever seems to pay attention to.

Make that no one except John Tyler. He's tuned into every bit of feedback your body offers, thrilled at how you respond to his lips sucking, then biting, then lapping gingerly at every inch of your skin in front of him. He waited like a good boy, now he's basking in all this reward. "Are you going to?"

He asks, panting warm breaths in the narrow, sensitive canal between your breasts. He's freed both his hands now and is running them deliciously up your sides, smiling when he hits a spot that tickles or makes you squirm. You're so dizzy with conflicted emotion, with need for his mouth, his breath everywhere all at once, that you can't remember what he's asking.

John reads your thoughts. "Are you going to ask me to hurt you?"

Something primal and unsatisfied shakes loose inside of you and rather than answer in words a loud whine comes pleading out of you. Like before, but louder, more lost. Yes, your body cries out, please, anything you want.

"Yeah?" He mimics your neediness, condescension and want thick in his throat. "Is that what you need from me? That's why you closed the store by yourself? You wanted someone to come along and do this?" He's watching you the way a predator watches its next meal, happy to let the game go on, to keep you in suspense until he himself can't resist.

"Well I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” he murmurs into your chest, "you don't have to worry anymore." he leaves on you yet another frenzy of kisses, too adoring and sweet to be those of a man who’s tied you up and plans to…and plans to…

Curse his pretty, long-lashed puppy-dog eyes. Now he lifts his head, keeping those eyes pinned to yours, and takes one of your tits into his mouth. You squirm all the harder, to get away? To get more? But John has you now, and he lets go of teething your nipple to groan, "I hope you can forgive me for doing it this way. Knew you were meant for me. Fuck, these tits…" his teeth again find those sensitive little places on the bud of your nipple that shut off whatever sector of your brain remained functional. "You are so delicious. You know that, I hope."

He mirrors the placement of his mouth and a free hand so that the other nipple benefits from the ministrations of his mouth while the hand squeezes the one he's left wanting.

"Did you just say 'please?' Did you?" Did you? It spilled from your lips without even forming as a conscious thought. You can't speak. You can't think. All you know, have ever known, seems to be this craving for more and more of John. It's an eerie, seasick heat that charges your lust for him. It crashes and spikes over your invisible, almost entirely forgotten fear and resistance to all of this, which has sunken to the very bottom of your attention like a drowned sailor screaming out the last of their oxygen in vain. John's hypnotic voice draws you back up to the surface.

"Already begging. Boy did I get lucky." His ridiculously skillful tongue elicits a ridiculously wanton string of moans from you and now both of you are finding a rhythm grinding against each other. He comes back up for a kiss on your lips, puts all his weight into thrusting properly and says into your mouth, "Yes, oh God, yes, just like that. Right there, that feels so good."

He's shaking and you're shaking and the bed is creaking and you might get close to an orgasm just like this, inhibitions are so deep beneath your conscious mind they might as well have never been. "Pretty, pretty slut, you're mine now. Maybe I can't get you to admit it in words, but I'd bet anything I have that your pussy is soaked for me."

The friction of your clothed wetness and the cock twitching to burst free from his trousers is intense. That hunger pang to be full, to take his length inside you comes from deep down and when he stops in midair above you your hips wiggle involuntarily.

"I have to see. Have to feel," he talks more to himself. So quickly he is crawling back down the length of the bed, fingertips grazing the sides of your abdomen, digging into the tender dip where your lower belly ends and the waistband of your jeans, ever an obstacle, begins.

"Gonna have to leave these down around your ankles, cutie. Can't risk you kicking and struggling for the sake of untying these little legs. Lift up."

Dominant, borderline paternal in a way you could never admit or compromise to by the light of day, John's simple command hotwires a response out of you and almost without volition you lift your hips so that he can pull your jeans down your thighs, your shins, to your ankles.

"Jeepers, you're wet for me. I didn't doubt that you liked it, but this. This is very flattering, I could cum in my pants like a junior high schoolboy. Not going to, it would be a tragedy not to fuck you tonight. But I very much could. Gonna touch you now."

It's a statement, not a request, that prefaces John's dragging one firm, curious digit across the wet spot over your slit. Your hips, thighs, hell even your back and upper body are involved as you buck against the contact. More. You're desperate in a way that's totally foreign to you. Both of you sense a shift toward urgency.

The pretense of charm, if it was lingering, now drops darkly and abruptly out of John's demeanor. You can see gears click away in his head, later you'll know he was cementing a mental image of you as his property, was 'thingifying' you. "Gonna fucking ruin you. This cunt is so needy, it's killing me."

You drip, you know you do, at the sound of his words, and the hypersensitive feeling of John pulling your panties to the side to feel your wetness firsthand.

"Okay, these are in my way," he practically growls, pulling a small pocketknife from his trousers and sneaking a finger under one leg of your panties to safely cut them off. "I don't want you to bleed just yet, and I really don't want to lose a finger. But they're coming off."

In an instant, he's sliced through the waist of your underwear on one side, then matched the action on the other side, so like the petals of the most sinful flower, John pulls the torn cloth covering away from your pussy. You spread for him, again never making up your mind to do so beforehand, and squirm at the sensation of being fully on display for him.

He takes his hands off your pussy, dances featherlight touches across your thighs, that gorgeous junction where your hips end and tummy begins, the soft hill of your pelvic bone. “Almost. Ask me for it.”

Your cloudy eyes search his, finding stormy resolve and almost no trace of the gentleness that hangs around in his voice like a lure for unsuspecting prey.

“Come on. No free rides. Not for me, not for you. Ask me to touch you.”

You search your mind for the defiant nerve that wanted to say, to scream ‘no.’ But there’s nothing but a dull throb between your legs watching his pretty fingers waltz across your skin. “Um. Please,”

John’s nostrils flare. Well that’s not quite good enough. “Please ‘what’?” he sing-songs, toothy grin catching the light above you. His sharp teeth. You never had time to notice how fang-y they look.

You’ve also never had anyone make you beg in bed. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say you liked it. Or…part of you did.

“Please John…your fingers…”

To make matters worse, he takes two digits into his mouth and sucks on them. He watches you enjoy the sight. Relishes the power.

“These?” he asks, performatively dorky, “where do you want them?”

You calculate a trillion possibilities. Thrashing your way out of these restraints like some superhuman adrenaline fiend. Giving into the dubious want hammering in your bloodstream. Kicking him in the groin–well, not that one, you can’t do that one. John pulls you out of the internal debate and shakes you pretty roughly by the shoulders. The fingers that went in his mouth are still wet on your shoulder. You wince.

“Nothing worth having comes easy, you slut. I’m not talking to myself anymore. Speak.”

“I want your fingers…in me, in my pussy, please.”

“‘That’s a good girl.” John smirks appreciatively. He drags his fingers down your shoulder, your upper arm, your forearm. “You’re so lucky you were specific, I might have had to play with your ass.”

You’re familiar enough with your own body to know that whenever anyone has even barely touched you there, they haven’t taken enough time for it to be enjoyable. So it’s a scary thought. As John meant it to be.

“Another time. For now…” His fingers continue their slow glide down your sides, the outside of your thighs. Then in a swift gesture, his hand drifts torturously above your pussy. His middle finger almost grazes your clit. “Tell me again.”

“I want your fingers in my pussy.”

That bottomless, hungry blackness comes into his expression again and he pushes that same middle finger inside your cunt. You gasp a bit as he strokes the tender heat he finds inside you, brushes little spots that make you want to buck against him and squirm away from him at the same time.

“Hello, beautiful. Do it. Fucking open up for me.” His encouragement flowers in your subconscious and your hips thrust toward more of that feeling. That fucking feeling. John lets you have your fun. His cock stiffens at the thought of your resistance dropping away. You grind your mind away on his one rough finger and he watches you like you're something to eat. Which you are, but that's for another time too. Because he's feeling fucking restless.

"Ah, if you're close, you have to tell me. You're not cumming on anything but me." he promises, and you believe it enough to stop thrusting in the direction of the sensation that feels so good, so everything. "Does that mean you're ready? Can you nod for me?"

You do. Just why you do is something you'll deal with by daylight, if you ever get out of this place. But it's an irretrievable truth now that you want to get fucked by him, to feel him. John's eyelashes flutter as he strips off his pants and underwear in a clumsy, reckless rush, and then he's back on top of you. His ankles touch where yours are tied up. And his length bumps wetly against your stomach.

That is...primally exciting and frightening all in one go. Your senses scream that there's no way you'll be able to take him even as John lines himself up with your entrance and starts to enter you.

Slowly. You're reminded suddenly of your heartbeat. It's not the kind of opening up that can be achieved in one sloppy, marginally satisfying stroke. John is stretching you beyond what you thought possible, and he's slow, but he isn't prepared to wait forever.

This is the law of balance, he thinks, smirking to himself as he watches the naked fear and want in your face. I scratch your back, you let me fuck your slutty cunt into oblivion.

You can’t hold him. You’ll come apart, the world is coming apart.

John lets go of a deep, deep sigh, cock still so unbearably deep inside you. “Mmmm. I know, I know, I’m a little big, you can take it, good-girl-good-girl…”

You haven’t spoken in 45 seconds to a minute. Some sense of the present seems to have left your eyes, dripped out through your cunt. A gorgeous silvery little teardrop is in the corner of your eye. Impulsively, gripping your wrists, John leans down and licks it. You wince away from the feeling.

John lets go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, tastes you on his tongue. 

“Please,” you whine meaninglessly. Please don’t hurt me. Please untie me. Please fuck me. Please let me go. Your desires are all confused.

“S’fucking good.” his hips move a little, he doesn’t even thrust on purpose. Just needs you. 

You let out a little cry. The pressure is immense. You’re wet, but he is so much bigger than anything or anyone you’ve ever taken inside. 

“Oh yes. More of that. Fucking give that to me,” he pants out, capturing your mouth in another enveloping kiss to swallow your sounds as he starts to move with a bit more intention. So much. 

The bed creaks under you as John finds a rhythm he enjoys that you're grateful isn't ripping you apart. You've never had this level of internal vertigo between pleasure and pain. Your vision is blinded white. And this isn't going to last long.

"You make me wanna be a better man," John laughs to himself, half-serious and half-mad with lust. "Fuck, I want to touch you more than anything. You'll cum if I rub your clit, I know you will."

You let out a loud moan as he fumbles a hand and finds a sensitive nub at the arch of your pussy. He's so distracted that initially all he does is lay a hand on you, deadweight, vaguely good but not nearly enough. You're so far gone that you try and fail to wrench your arms free and cover his hand with one of your own.

He entertains toying with you this way and not indulging what you so clearly want. But really, more stimulation is just going to make you gush. And that is something John Tyler needs to see and feel before he dies.

He reads you with his index and middle finger as he did before with his mouth, and attentive, filthy pitcher ears. You like a bit of circularity, and a little bit of pressure--so slippery now his hand slips off you now and again and he laughs, laughs. You watch him get lost in it and get rougher, and if there's any trace of fear left in you under his ministrations, you're climbing too high to be brought back down by it. You've heard people say their mind so empties, so fills up with pleasure that sex feels like the soul leaving the body. This must be your version of it.

Fate has it happen under the constricting body of big bad John Tyler, but there really is no time to worry about that. "Yeah. Good. Fuck." Even he's growing less eloquent.

Your walls clench down around him and release starts as an intense wave curling your toes. "Yeahfuck-cum-I'm gonna cum inside you. You know you want it. You know, you know, you know me--" he chants, a groan leaving his lips as you shake up apart and cum on his length. He spills his seed inside you, warm, sticky, satisfying, foreign.

"Oh..." You say, a small, animal noise having met the brink of your presence of mind and gone past. It sounds surprised, and sweet, and bruised, and fucking filthy.

"I love you, noisy girl. Fuck I love you," John sighs, collapsing over your body, his face in your neck. "Never fucking letting this go. Never never never..."