#im so tired of having everything ripped away from me and being forced to start over

[wwwyzzerdd420]

I HATE STARTING OVER

I HATE STARTING OVER

I DO NOT WANT TO BEGIN AGAIN

[rattotheimperialcheesegod]

tell me more about evil mystreet zane

Oh well, i suppose it would a great time to finally show more info on my rewrite verison of zane!! now where do i start--

HES FUCKING HORRIBLE🗣‼️🗣‼️

Zane Ro'meave in Misteria is the worst man on earth and id like to show his many traits he has

Hes selfish, self-centered, manipulative, hypocrytical, he gaslights, he certainly gatekeeps, is verbally abusive and a slimey good no nothing incel, thinking he has every right to a women, thinking they should be greatful hes being so sweet and nice, plus hes rich who wouldnt want him?

But the truth is that he has no actual social skills when it comes to interacting with girls, truely he barely has any social skills at all, the guy is like the worst type of friend, like only wants you around to make him look better in comparison kind of friend, will treat everything his friends like as lame or stupid when he expects his friends to love and adore all the stuff he likes

And always complains like he was forced to be around them when truely, if he did decide to throw his friends to the curb, he would basically have nothing, no one but himself to hate.

damn all that money and still hasnt gone to a therapist huh?

Zane in my rewrite is basically if you give zane all the views and his god complex he has in mcd, kept all his toxic behavior and want to have power over others, and than mixed him with the absolute worst verison of himself, which is aphsmp zane...

...rip og zane, your now the biggest asshole creep to ever exist in modern day aphmau next to red vs blue over there

(Btw, Im not a hater of mystreet zane or mcd zane, ive just gotten tired of what that emo has gotten away with in cocomau, like..get away from nana AND kim...get a fucking job...)

I will soon draw a character bio for him

but ive also thought about redoing kim and travis's bio so that might be a while

also special gif underneath ♡

[thighsoverlives]

Her Eyes - Simon's POV of "His Eyes"

⋆ relationship ⋆

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!reader

⋆ summary ⋆

A mission gone bad. She lies in his arms dying. He should've done more to protect her.

⋆ notes ⋆

i though making this story into Simon's POV would be pretty cool so here it is! i still have no idea where i want to take the Price fic and i havent even started it yet so.. 😭

alsoo! im going to make a tik tok hopefully? i know nothing about posting stuff on tik tok so wish me luck lol! it'll be thighsoverlives just like my tumblr :)

⋆ warnings ⋆

death, heavy angst!

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

hope you enjoy! (●'◡'●)

Her Eyes

When your world comes crashing down some say that all sound ceases. Simon didn't believe that would actually happen until he turned to look at her. He didn't believe it until he saw the bullet rip through her back.

It wasn't real. It couldn't be happening. His breath hitched and his muscles tensed. A mix of emotions he couldn't even describe overtook his body. Bullets were flying through the air and somewhere in the distance, a grenade exploded. But he didn't care, all that mattered was her. He had to get to her. 

Rushing to her side, he knelt over her frail figure. 

“We have to get out of here.” His voice was shaky and hoarse as he gently picked her up and carried her away.

Somehow, you had managed to make it to a building that was isolated from the rest. Somehow you were able to evade the bullets and the grenades. Simon Riley, the defier of death. But yet, as he placed her body to the ground, his cold facade was slipping. 

Death was something that he would experience every single day. But this was different. It was different to hold his world in his arms and watch her fade away. To hold the person who taught him that his broken and bruised heart was capable of loving again. To hold the person who cared for him with every part of their soul. To hold the person that would die for him. To watch the life drain out of their body. To see the pain and the fear in her eyes.

He choked back a sob. It’d be okay. It’d have to. He would give up everything he had built just to see her happy. Even though he found his purpose in the military, he would leave to make sure she was safe. To make sure to be okay. You’d get an evac and he’d be by her side when she woke up in the infirmary. He’d force you both to quit this military business and she could have the house she always dreamed of. The one out in the country. And he’d do anything he could have her alive and well.

Even though he wasn’t by any means the least bit religious he was praying, begging for God to let her stay. He’d promise that he would do anything just so he could have her alive and well.

He was shaking her body. She couldn’t fall asleep. He wouldn’t let her. 

“Simon, I’m so tired.”

His heart was breaking into a million pieces once again. Pieces that she had put back together. She was his world. She was what he lived for. She was the reason he wanted to get better, to keep fighting.

He was shaking. He was consumed with uncontrollable rage and grief. He had worked very hard to be a master at regulating his emotions but how was he meant to do that when his world was collapsing?

He was conditioned to be a war machine. He was taught not to get attached. So why on Earth was he leaning over the crumpled body of the woman who was his world?

He was trying so hard to be strong. Trying to stay calm because he didn’t want her to die scared. He knew that anything he could do would be futile. The wound was bad, very bad. She was dying in his arms and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

He wanted to look at her, to tell her that it would be okay. He wanted to tell her to imagine the house in the country. The cat, the dog, and the child that she had told him so many times she wanted. He wanted to reassure her. But it was futile. He couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. It would only prove his failure.

He should’ve protected her.

Every being in his body urged him to speak. To tell her that he loved her. So that maybe she could know that he really did. He never did the “love” stuff. It had hurt him far too much. But she had loved him so much that he thought he might’ve finally been capable of letting someone in. When he met her gaze, she was looking into his eyes. She had always told him how pretty his eyes were. How they reminded her of a warm, cloudless summer day. Or the ocean. 

He should’ve done more. Why didn’t he protect her? Why couldn’t he protect her?

He couldn’t bring himself to speak. Why couldn’t he bring himself to speak?

He stared into her eyes. Eyes that were so full of love for him. Eyes that he loved gazing into. Eyes that he saw his future in. 

A single tear fell from his eye.

“I..”

His words were cut off by the bullet that ripped through his chest. 

No. No. No. God, no. He had to tell her that he loved her. She couldn’t die never hearing him say it. 

Two more bullets followed. He crumpled to the ground in a pathetic mess. 

Why didn’t he protect her?

He felt her hand reach out for his. He held it tenderly, lovingly, the way he had just hours ago.

“I love you, Simon.” She had said it so many times before. And she was okay with the fact that he never said it back. But this time it sounded so sad, so defeated. It was a whisper. He knew she was trying so hard to speak even though the blood was spilling into her lungs, drowning her.

Her eyes were fluttering closed.

She needed to know he loved her.

He fought against every wicked part of his body that tried to drag him away. With the worst parts that tried to stop him from saying it. “I love you.” 

Reality was slipping. He was dying, just like her. He squeezed her hand as tight as he could. He prayed that she heard him. He prayed to God that she would die knowing he loved her. It would be the first and last time he ever got to say it to her.

Such a pity he hadn’t said it earlier. 

[winderlylandchime]

THE MAN MADE HIMSELF A SHIRT. I REPEAT THE MAN MADE HIMSELF A SHIRT! That was why he took my markers earlier today! And i had the audacity to think he’d be normal and that the mind map paper was the worst of it all. He took a white shirt and wrote with a sharpie ’Team Brian’ on it. He said he even watched youtube videos to learn how to like stitch it in but gave up after he hurt himself with a needle. He made 3 extra shirts, 2 for our parents that he express sent to them and one for me. He wrote a note with the package to our parents that said ‘if you love me, you’ll wear it’ So I cannot wait to see how that goes (fr imagine getting that sent to you, just a shirt and a note.) And the best(?) part of it all is he wore the shirt to the damn doctor check up! I almost forced him out of it but then at the last second thought to myself ‘for the content..gotta let him be dumb for the people on tumblr, they would want me to do it.’ (At this point I’m just going with the drugged up idiot flow) The doctor took one look at him when he walked into the office and sighed. I forgot that they had to deal with him for two days during his new found love, so i have no clue what all he put them through. And he tried to ignore it at first but my brother kept pulling at his shirt and smiling at him so the doctor went ‘(brothers name) i see youre in the arts and crafts part of your obsession..’ and all my brother said was ‘bro…i mean Doctor Bro, you have no clue. I am stressed! I am tired! I stayed up all night thinking. Nobody cares about my feelings. Nobody cares about what I have to say and think, i have no one in my corner. And now the worst of all, he ran off with a kazoo player! Do you know how dumb that is?!’ The second my brother looked away, the doctor looked at me and mouthed ‘kazoo?’ And I mimicked a violin and the guy had to cover up a laugh. I feel like the doctor is cursing at HIPAA cause if i was him, id want everyone to know about this dumbass at my work. I will report back when my parents get the package (should be like two days or so). He asked at the post office if they will receive it in less than a week ‘because it is important, very, very important! Like life or death situation’ and then he panicked that they’d think he is sending something illegal so he went ‘it’s shirts! Like this one’ *shows his shirt* and then idk what went through his head because he went ‘it’s from a show I’m watching. I swear im not just being weird about Brians’

Dear sweet anon, I was settling in with an afternoon coffee on the couch to do some work on my tablet and your message popped up before I turned on my work DND (otherwise every notification I get is like 👀 surely someone reblogging this this is more important that the thing I am literally paid to do, you know how it is). And I’m so glad that I saw this before I “hunkered down” for some paperwork. Blech.

Nobody cares about my feelings. Nobody cares about what I have to say and think, i have no one in my corner. OH BROTHER ANON you have tens of people in your corner. We DO care about your feelings and one day you will know.

The arts and crafts part of his obsession! I die. He’s going to get an etsy or redbubble store before this is over and start selling fanart phone cases (not a jab, I have a fanart phone case!).

So about HIPAA. HIPAA only applies to healthcare information and identifying information. So for therapists, that’s basically everything (although I will frequently say a client recommended a TV show to me because that is not healthcare information [uh your brother’s qaf obsession would be though] and it’s not identifying). And HIPAA doesn’t apply to consulting with other medical professionals without identifying information (so I could say to a fellow therapist “I have a client who ripped his stitches after surgery due to excitement about a TV show, my own bar for how normal this is is a bit fucked, should I be concerned?”) So I can absolutely guarantee that your brother’s doctor is at the very least telling his fellow doctors about your brother. I promises you they are in the break room laughing about this.

IAN PLAYS A KAZOO. Sorry if this shows up in a fic of mine in the future… this is very Brian coded. No offense to kazoo players. I’m sure they are a lovely bunch who do not deserve to be grouped in with Ethan.

[b0mblover]

It’ll be Okay in the End

By: J

cw; selfharm, generally negative thoughts, blood (etc everything that comes with sh)

lopt essentially has a silent breakdown and mason comforts him or smth idk im not good at summeries,

[Note; this was wrote out of my own desperation for comfort, not romanizing sh, i do not encourage or believe anyone should do this to themselves, seek help.]

i uh, actually had a easier time writing this than most things, probably because ive been essentially replaying this whole scene in my head for literal years! i for once wasnt upset when i wrote this, i was very tired tho! uh i have alot more to say but hawaii part ii lopt is taking over my brain again, so im gonna go do that! have fun with my depressed 100% projected loptson ig!

•

lopt was in ‘his’ so called room, scribbling away at some paper,

mason was rather concerned, hearing frustrated noises constantly, what sounded like pencils breaking,

they had been “partners” officially for 3 months now, mason had always cared about lopt to an extent, partner or not, but this was… odd.

sure lopt had his own life, hobbies, but he didnt care to keep /that/ much from mason, especially whenever he asked,

but, this was different.

lopt had came home from wherever the fuck he was- hell if mason knew details- annoyed, he stormed off to some room, when mason tried to ask what was wrong he only blew him off saying that “its none of your fucking business, you wouldnt get it anyways”

•

lopt was scribbling away in his notepad, despite being a god and literally being immortal, he still couldnt force creativity to come to him,

it was his fifth time trying,

most drawings resulted in poorly scribbled out lines,

he had went out to try and get inspiration for “some project” though he didnt really /have/ anything to work on, starting a new drawing always seemed to be a block for him,

he sat down his broken (6b) pencil, (rather violently but he didnt want to acknowledge that) and got up, he knew somewhere in him, that he needed a break, he walked out of his room to get water, but his mind wouldnt leave him alone,

constant thoughts about how awful his art was spewed around

“youre not “talented”, youre worthless”

“itd be better to quit now”

“just rip up the damn papers, theyre ugly anyways”

“imagine- you could just go and alleviate all this pain, just with that knife-“

he tried to push down his thoughts,

grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with water,

the knives in the butcher block seemed so… tempting,

most of him /knew/ that he shouldnt- that it was wrong, that mason would be disappointed- disgusted, if he found out about his thoughts,

but, he couldnt help it,

all memories of the nights he got up from their bed to take part in something that would disgust his partner made him sick.

questions runned through his head as he sipped on his water, leaning onto the counter

“would he be sad?”

“would he care?”

“would he call me names?”

“tell me how pathetic i am?”

“leave me?”

“would he hate me?”

“tell me how ugly my body is”

“tell me how he hates the scars”

“tell me just how much he despises me”

the voices grew louder wither every question,

saying that he wanted mason to hate him,

that he did hate him,

in the very back of lopts mind, in the tiniest corner, he knew it all wasnt true, that he was being dramatic over nothing,

but even then, the memories of all the times he loved someone- all the times he didnt question if they hated him, what they all said to him,

he felt like doubting himself was the only way to have them not leave,

to not abandon him,

he took a deep breath before sighing, realizing his cup was empty, he decided that he had enough of a “break” and that he needed to start “working” again,

•

mason was sitting on the couch, some random tv show playing for background noise, when lopt wasnt “there” it was almost too quiet, in a way, mason had grown to love how loud and chaotic the house was with lopt- even if thery were the only two people in it.

he seen lopt walk into the kitchen for around 8~ minutes before he trudged his way into his room once more,

he didnt know excatly as to what lopt was doing,

granted whatever it was had to have been important, he didnt usually spend 3+ hours in a room alone silently, it started to make him worry, was lopt sick? just why did he seem so upset when he came home? is he okay? did he hurt himself?

•

lopt sat down at his desk once more, staring at the scribbled page, a sphere, he couldnt figure out how to shade it properly on the background,

he sighed turning his attention to the top left drawer,

he stood up walking over to his dresser, pulling out another drawer, he took out a roll of bandages, and some tissues, 

he knew that he shouldnt, that it was essentially pointless, that hed feel better soon enough,

but that fear crept back up,

“what about last time you didnt? remember? it got only worse because you didnt”

he rubbed the sides of his nose bridge, the voices were annoying, they knew that he was gonna, even without the encouragement.

he sat back down at his desk, sitting the tissues to his right and the badages to his left before pulling out the left hand drawer,

he rummaged through it, various miscellaneous items, before coming across a box,

a red box, seemingly quiet old, with yellow letters reading “do it” on the front,

he took one out, ‘unwrapping’ the razor blade,

straight edge,

he stared at it, contemplating just what hes doing with his life,

“i cant draw, i cant write, i cant make people happy, i cant make music, i can only recite the tales others have told, im worthless, im doless, i will never amount to anything or anyone in my life, god or not, human or not, this is deserved, if i cannot create, then i at lease deserve to bleed”

a mantra he told himself, attempting to poorly justify his actions,

•

mason listened at the door, hearing nothing, no pencil, no walking, almost no breathing, he didnt know everything about lopt, sure, but he knew that he didnt look well off, and what boyfriend would he be to his partner if he wasnt concerned?

they had an unspoken rule to always at least knock before walking into the others space, granted they had seen every part of each other, it was just a courtesy they had, 

though, something felt off,

mason felt as if he shouldnt knock, that lopt was hiding something,

all those sleepless nights where lopt comforted him abundantly, he had felt him get up, a few times he had caught lopt in the basement, he didnt know just what he was doing, he always hid something,

he didnt want to break any boundaries sure, thatd be rude and disrespectful, but, he had a weird feeling in his gut that it was for lopts own saftey,

“please forgive me for this” he muttered to himself,

sharply inhaling before opening the door,

simply greeted by lopts back.

•

lopt heard the door open, he had three lines going diagonally down his right arm, bleeding, he fumbled the razor, dropping it onto the floor, it had gotten rather dark by now, so it probably wouldnt be seen, he attempted to get the tissues, he had always been a great liar,

“ill just say i accidentally cut myself, if he asks what i was doing with a weapon, ill deflect and say i was being stupid”

it seems like he fumbled the tissues for a bit too long.

“hey”

mason said over his shoulder,

he moved his left hand to cover the cuts,

“o-oh, hey, whats wrong?”

“hm, well, i mean nothing? i guess, what are you doing?”

“i- you guess? is something the matter?”

mason had noticed he was oddly covering his forearm,

“you ignored my question.”

“huh?”

“i asked what youre doing.”

masons tone sounded alot more pissed off, granted he wasnt, just concered more than anything,

“o-oh i um, ok dont laugh but uh- i was trying to draw”

“and why are you covering your arm? are you hurt?”

“i- huh? wh- no, no! i uh, may have also been playing with a blade and accidentally scraped myself, nothing much”

“let me see”

“what?”

“let me see your injury”

lopt was taken aback, all of his previous partners never asked to see his wounds, scars sure but never his wounds, even if they werent self inflicted, he was shocked, he hadnt planned for this.

“i- i assure you dear, it isnt anything to worry about-“

“let me see it. are you hiding something?”

in that moment lopt felt small, like a child almost, weak, helpless, he didnt know how he could get out of this without mason either finding out or being suspicious of him.

“i- here”

lopt moved his left arm to mason, there were a few small cuts on it, though rather old looking,

lopt moved his right arm off the table, into the shadows to not call attention to it.

“uh huh, now the other?”

lopt seen his eternal life flash before his very eyes.

his mind went on autopilot and raised his right arm, he usually would fight but, he knew itd be pointless, mason would just worry more, thus making him keep a closer eye on lopt, he didnt want to feel selfish, not like that,

“oh my, i- oh my god,”

mason was shocked, he had suspected that lopt had hurt himself in the past, granted the scars,

but, he didnt think he still did it, sure the weird behavior, but it never really dawned on him until that moment.

.

mason had brought (more like dragged) lopt to the bathroom, running the slits under cool water, putting pressure to hopefully get the bleeding under control, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out another roll of bandages,

he stood behind lopt washing the blood off, still slightly in shock,

“why?”

“huh?”

“why do you do this?”

masom questioned, fully aware of the long list lopt was about to give out,

“i- well, i dunno..”

lopts voice trailed off before starting again,

“i mean, i dont even know why i do this, it just feels good? like i can do something right? it makes me feel like im not worthless”

mason hummed for a second before choosing his words

“do you feel normally that youre worthless?”

“i guess so, i dont know why, i have the best boyfriend, my life is great, i just dont know..”

“mmhm, what were you trying to draw?”

“i dont know. does it matter?”

lopt shot back

“well, you seemed frustrated at it, so im sure it’s important to you yeah? so then it’s important to me”

mason brought his hands around lopts wrist, rubbing it slightly attempting to calm him down

“i- i dont know, i just, i feel frustrated, so i tried to draw, but drawing makes me feel more frustrated, so i did this- an- and n-now-“

lopt began to stutter, tears swelling up in his eyes, mason had only seen him cry on a few occasions,

“shh- shh its okay, i know what youre saying, breath, okay?”

lopt inhaled deeply, feeling masons left hand move to wipe the tears away,

he didnt even know why he was crying,

mason bandaged lopts arm slightly tight, 

“shh, now, you wanna talk about this? or wait a little bit longer to calm down?”

“c-calm down”

“alright alright, shh youre okay, see?”

mason lead lopt into his bedroom, taking lopts hand under the covers as he had done for him every sleepless night,

lopt could feel his eyelids starting to droop, the warmth of his boyfriend comforting him, the love of his boyfriend comforting him,

he shoved his head into masons chest, finding it to be the most comfortable spot out of the entire bed,

mason ruffled his hair, slowly stroking his hand on his neck,

“y’know, you may be a god,

and you may be immortal, but,

ill be with you for as long as you need, in this life and after”

lopt didnt respond, just slightly nodded his head before burrying it deeper into masons chest, 

maybe tonight wasnt so bad after all,

spending time with mason- no, his boyfriend, was never bad.

lopt faded in and out of sleep, trying to fight the melatonin being produced, just to feel the sweet touch of his boyfriends skin, before he completely felt himself drift away, he heard him speak,

“I love you, i love you so much, never forget that, in this life and the next, ill always love you, lopt.”

[dullweapons]

" has time not worn you out , ray ? " it's a genuine question , far from demeaning or taunting - very unlike him should one have met him timelines ago being ever so loyal to demise . a sigh and he stretched as he started walking again . " let someone else deal with the burden . that little hero always does his part , doesn't he ? who are we to interrupt that arduous process ? " - @flamboycnt ( specifically bo.tw era ! )

has time not worn you out , ray ?

what a stupid question : of course he's tired . he's lived just as long as you , lord ghirahim . he's seen the execution of gods , the rains fall until oceans rise & consume all . he raised monsters in an army to fell the crown & resurrect ganon . then watch it all come together only for the calamity to rip it to shreds . he's lost thousands of men in battle . lovers come & gone like a blink of his eye . yet here he stands before you . an echo of what he once was but still standing . like the ruins of akkala he was built to last .

so yes , he's worn out . threadbare to the point of being transparent . a single touch could render him nought but dust & ash ... but he's still here .

he walks behind the other demon as he stretches out before him . ray goes to answer but ghirahim speaks once more ⸻ & ray stops following . that little hero . yes , he always does his part . the goddesses little dog that always follows his orders thinking it is his free will that guides him even after learning of his fate to fight demise's hate to protect the land & the disgusting blood of the goddess . over & over again this little tale will be told . the stage dressing might be different & the actors may have different lines but always the same .

his hands ball into fists , his leather gloves straining under the pressure of his rage . what an arduous process indeed .

❝ you know he failed , correct . when the calamity struck he died . the king died ⸻ & i led the army to akkala where they died . where i died for fifty years . zelda locked away in the castle holding back our god . biding time until that little failure gets to try again ... ❞ he looks away , trying to swallow the anger that bubbles in his chest . return to apathy . let your heart rest in nihilism . its comfortably numb there ...

❝ my apologies , my lord ... but , what makes you think we have no role in this ... you feel it don't you . we're lucky he is mindless lest we'd be ordered to kill the remaining civilians ⸻ i almost want to . ❞ his hands are shaking .

im sick with hatred for hyrule .

the demon can't contain it , it boils in his body like a sickness - a fever ! this hatred . this utter madness to sit here & allow all of this to continue ! why does the goddess pick favorites ? why does god allow this suffering to endure through the enos ? does she think it's funny ? are you amused at the suffering of your people . they worships you like a child worships their parents . but oh ⸻ he knows the pain of falling out of love with them too . he growls before pivoting at the spot to a tree ... & slams his fist into the hard bark , rendering the tree into two . with a loud thud it falls to the grounds of the woods & the mist rushes away from them . he draws his blade & hacks into the tunk over & over again , wood splitters flying . he continues until there is nothing left but pieces & scarred earth in front of him & his blade . the weapon falls from his hand as his breath is labored .

❝ ... where is your anger . why aren't you as upset as i am . being forced to watch this over & over again : i want to destroy everything in my path for cursing me with this knowledge that this ⸻ this hell will never end . ❞

[wolvenkingulfiri]

Hello everyone! I think I'm improving with my story telling. This one might hit right in the heart strings if I told it right.

Last moments

By Michael graham

"So this is what it's like."

It all went so fast; one second I was singing along to lord huron driving down the freeway. Then things started to slow down as I tried to pass an old man in a green f150. Suddenly His tire blew causing him to violently swerve into me. I lost control of my truck when I was forced into the graveled median and launched into the air through the emergency turn around.

It all went so slow and all I could think about was:

what am I going to tell jason?

As my truck rolled through the air everything just washed as if all my worries ceased to exist. Yet one thing remained as the hood made contact with the opposite lanes sending sparks flying everywhere.

"I wish I weren't alone."

I look around as the crumpled hood reaches the windshield; slowly shattering it as all the loose materials fly around me like a seriously messed up snow globe. I feel my seat belt tighten as the airbag goes off slamming my head into the back of my seat breaking my nose from the force. The sounds of crushing metal and shattered glass fill my ears as im thrown around like a rag doll. I figure I must have struck something stationary as the truck violently flips again this time rolling several times before finally coming to a stop leaving me hanging.

I manage to crack my eyes open and try to look around. A hissing sound from the ruptured radiator and settling metal fills the air accompanied by screeching tires. I try to move my arms but I'm pretty sure they are broken along with both my legs. I can hear people scrambling around outside as I feel blood dripping down the side of my face.

"I THINK HES ALIVE!" I hear a man yell out.

"We're gonna get you out! Someone one call 911!" A women sreams.

I manage a smile as best I can.

"Such a nice lady. I just hope the old man is OK."

I dangle there watching several sets of hands appear desperately trying to get to me.

"I'm kinda getting sleepy."

The sound of sirens becomes louder as the hands manage to claw away most of the debris.

"Such nice people, they took the time to help me."

I feel a warm feeling in my heart as the rest of me begins to grow numb and cold.

"SIR my name is captain Henry Moores with the fire department. You were in an accident and we are going to get you out... things are going to get loud so just stay calm while the medics place a C-collar on you."

"Such a nice man. I hope Jason doesn't get jealous haha."

I don't know why that last bit came to mind. Jason's going to be quit cross with me when he sees the truck. After the medics manage to get me ready for the inevitable ride to the hospital I look to my right as I hear the saws start up. Out of the corner of my eye I see my grandfather crouched on the ground beside me.

I furor my brow in confusion but before I can speak I hear the medic call out that they need to hurry.

"I don't understand?" I whisper.

I feel my eyes tear up as I loose all feeling in most of my body. I know why he's here I just don't want to accept it just yet. I want to fight; Jason, my parents, and my brothers, everyone would want me to fight.

"But I'm just so tired grandpa."

As the door is ripped off the truck and the belt is cut from my chest the few tears I fought back make their way to the ground. My grandfather reaches for my hand and takes it; leading me out of the wreckage. I watch as several men dressed in thick black and yellow uniforms pull me out of the truck.

Flashing lights and screams of horror grab my attention as I look to the crowd. Jason's being held back by the cheif as the medics rip open my shirt and place sticky pads to my chest and side. I guess the smart watch I wore in case I got hurt worked and told him something happened while I was en rout to work.

Everything is going so slowly.

I look to my grandpa as I hear the men call "clear." He gives me a nod and I walk towards Jason who is practically fighting the cops and fire fighters now. I just look at him taking in every feature of him for the last time. I watch as the man I loved for over ten years falls to his knees surrounded by so many people clasping their hands to the faces and wiping tears from their eyes. I look back to my grandpa and the scene that's causing so much trouble and watch as several firefighters remove their coats and lay them over me.

I look back to jason now on his knees screaming towards the sky as the people closest to him try to comfort him. I lean down and place my hand to his back; wishing I could hold him and tell him it's all right. He lifts his head like he can feel me there when one one the medics comes to speaks to him. Once he's to his feet I take my chance and give him one last kiss before they go somewhere more private.

I stand there as tears start to flow down my face. I guess even souls can cry, I feel my grandpa's hand rest on my shoulder and pull me into a hug as I begin to cry uncontrollably. He holds me tight as I watch the medics lift my body off the ground and onto a stretcher to be loaded into the ambulance. All the while police reroute traffic through the turn around my truck flew over a few minutes ago.

"Is it really over?"

Without saying a word he gestures to me to walk with him. We pass by the totaled truck lying upside down; a few hundred feet away i see the green f150 and the older driver. Hes sitting on the ground with his back against his truck and face in his hands. I watch as his shoulds shake; he's clearly crying.

We walk over and I see the long dented gouges down the driver's side and the shredded front tire. So much pain and destruction caused by a faulty tire. Two lives ruined and one lost all within a split second.

"OH God please forgive me!" He cries out.

"You did nothing wrong... It was a freak accident but I forgive you."

Grandpa gently squeezes my shoulder and draws my attention to a brilliant bright light just to my right. I stand up and look back to the ambulance and watch as jason sits down beside my body; he grabs my hand, lays his head to my chest as he screams. More tears fall as the doors close and the ambulance starts to move away.

"I love you." I mournfully call out.

I turn to follow into the light only to take one last look as the flashing lights vanish along with the rest of the scene. I'm soon feel at peace bathed in soft white light, surrounded by love from family I've lost throughout my life.

[spookyjarchivist]

im so jaded about media now, like the magnus archives has ruined me in that ive tasted what it feels like to be treated as a normal human being and not a prop for woke points or someone’s heavy handed bid for acceptance like we need to parade our similarities or differences around to be seen, and i just cant go back

why would i want rewatch good omens when they did everything BUT the one piece of rep that everyone was asking for and was dangled in front of them?

why would i rewatch supernatural knowing dean and castiel are obviously in love and it will just get smacked down in some of the most hilariously aggressive homophobia ever put to screen?

why should i watch merlin for the first time knowing it will just be queerbaiting me like sherlock and teen wolf did before?

why should i finish hannibal when the creator was too chickenshit to just say he was writing a gay romance and i know it will never be finished?

why should i start watching mcu movies again when time after time they have done nothing but mock me and give false promises only rip the rug out and straight up mutilate character development for the sake of not being any kind of queer?

even in explicitly queer media written by queer people over half the time it feels like some huge performance waving a giant flag that says “we’re here!” instead of geniune representation of our community

like, i take solace in old books when it was illegal to print queer rep because at least then i know they were trying so hard for it to be as obvious as possible without crossing a line for a REASON

i keep seeing all these new shows that seem so good but then people will talk about how the main couple is super forced and you can tell it’s because they dont want to acknowledge the chemistry of the main character with another of the same gender, and dont even think of the token trans person getting anything good for them because it’s not happening

and yes i KNOW there’s good stuff out there, like ive heard about how amazing heartstopper is, but honestly i cant take another coming out story, like yeah im glad it’s there for the people who need it, but what about the people like me who dont HAVE a traditional “coming out” story? once i figured it out i knew who i was and i wasn’t afraid of it and i wasnt scared of telling people but i wasn’t just coming out, it’s just always came up naturally and ive never shied away from it,, and i KNOW that’s weird and i know people get pissed when you dont have coming out trauma but why does every coming of age queer story always gotta be a coming out story? like yeah we need more of those but we should also have the other too

anyway, tldr is that im a very tired queer and half the reason i dont consume much new media or even stick with old media is 100% bc no one writes queer people as people

also listen to the magnus archives and be prepared to find queer people being queer without it feeling like an oscar bait disability movie like love simon or overtly homophobic like supernatural

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Let Me Feel You For a While

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - 18+ NSFW SMUT DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE!!! Breeding kink (im sorry), slight blood, marking/biting, accidental voyeurism? THIGH RIDING YES PLEASE, AND SHARP TEETH MAKE ME DROOL. Oh btw spoilers for the Farewell Archaic Lord I think? General spoiler warning for genshin.

Word Count - 1.7k.

 Other Comments - You guys have NO IDEA how much I love Zhongli oh my god I love him. I slept on him at first but ever since my eyes were opened I realized how wrong I was for that. Anyway enjoy!!

@sadpsychologist @barbqtos​

      Zhongli had money, he was just dumb and never brought it with him; too used to the routine of just making more Mora if he ever needed to buy anything while he was an Archon. This being said, that also meant he had one of the most elaborate bedrooms you’d ever laid eyes on. The room was filled with rich browns and shimmering golds, his bed sheets made from the finest silks. Archons never really slept, which meant the Zhongli had made this room as ethereal as possible just for you. 

     You were laying across the cold white gold sheets, hair clinging to your forehead from the sweat. Your fingers were dancing around your clit, rubbing harshly at times before dipping into your wet cunt and pumping them in and out roughly. You were so horny it was uncomfortable, and since you had gotten accustomed to your lover's large member, your fingers were doing much for you. You needed something better. You shakily stood from the bed, before kneeling down and pulling out the box and you guys only got into when the two of you were really in the mood. You quickly found what you were looking for, as it was the largest thing in the box. You pulled the dildo out of the box before quickly shoving the box back under your bed.

     Zhongli didn’t really like when you took matters into your own hands, as he wanted to always be the one thing that made you melt. He wanted to pleasure you in ways that you never would have imagined. At this point you were quickly pumping the dildo in and out of yourself, lost in the pleasure as you moaned out loudly. You weren’t worried about anyone hearing since you were alone in the house and Zhongli wasn’t going to be home for a while. You can imagine your shock and horror when you opened your eyes to see Zhongli standing in the doorway, dick already straining hard against the large man’s dress pants.

     “Ah you finally noticed my presence.” Your face was even redder when those words left his lips. How long had he been standing there watching you fuck yourself roughly with the large silicone tool. You let out a low whimper, beginning to pump the object in and out of yourself again, too worked up to be embarrassed. You heard Zhongli chuckle lightly before the loud sounds of his dress shoes against the hardwood floor could be heard. You felt Zhongli’s gloved hands halt your movements before brushing your hand away and pulling the dildo out, setting it aside for cleaning at a later time. Soft desperate whimpers falling from your mouth as your chest heaved up and down. Zhongli pressed soft kisses to your face, his gloved hands running up and down your naked body, brushing against your nipples causing you to jolt.

     “You’re so sensitive my dear.” Your hands were looking for purchase on any part of his body, finally landing on his strong biceps. You squeezed his arms hard, wiggling around and continuing to whimper.

     “Nothing feels as good as you Zhongli, please… please help me. Fill me Zhongli, stuff me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your lips swollen from chewing on them.

     “Well it looked like you were having a good time with the dildo sweetheart.” Warm embarrassment bloomed in your chest and you desperately tried to pull Zhongli down by his collar. Zhongli’s lips attacked your, passionately biting at yours, Zhongli’s sharp canines drawing blood before he swiped it away with a quick flick of his tongue.

     He continued this assault on your flesh as he went lower. He made sure to mark you anywhere that was visible, it made his pride swell when he saw you walking around Liyue trying and failing to cover up bitemarks and deep purple hickies. Zhongli pulled back to admire his work, before propping himself up on the edge of the bed. Strong arms manhandled you, forcing you to straddle his thigh. You blushed profusely when you realized what Zhongli wanted you to do.

     “But- but your pants Zhongli, I don’t want to ruin them…” A small smile and eyes filled with pure admiration poured into yours. He carded his fingers through your hair, pushing back any strays behind your ear in the process.

     “My dearest, you have always been so considerate, but for tonight don’t worry about anything, just do what comes natural to you. My clothes can be cleaned, and if not I will buy another pair.” Zhongli’s hands gripped your hips tightly, starting to move you back and forth on his thigh. You clit was ecstatic to finally be getting some friction, moans already being ripped from your throat. The ex archons dick was uncomfortably hard, outline clear as day from how hard it was straining against his slacks. Once you finally got yourself into a rhythm he let one of his hands fall from your hips, giving in and palming himself through the thick fabric.

     You moans began increasing in volume and frequency as you got closer and closer to the edge. You gripped onto Zhongli’s broad shoulders, your body quickly becoming tired. The man in front of you noticed this, letting his hand return to your hip as he helped steady your rhythm once again. Tears were threatening to fall from how good you felt, everything starting to become light and fuzzy as you continued to get closer to your climax.

     With a couple more rough thrust against his leg, the coil deep in your gut snapped, sending waves of please surging through your body. Your back arched hard before slumping into Zhongli’s chest. He kept your hips moving, letting your ride out your orgasm on his now soiled pants.

     “My love, do you still want me to fill you up?” Zhongli’s voice brought you back to reality, where you realized how hard he was. The thought of Zhongli filling you to the brim reignited the fire that was just extinguished in you. You nodded reverently before rolling off his thigh and onto your back, presenting yourself to him. A low groan sounded from Zhongli’s throat as you spread your leg wide, the site of you littered with markings making his brain go fuzzy; his only focus now on making you both feel good. You’ve never seen Zhongli rip off his close at such a speed before, until he was stark naked and crawling on top of you; caging your head with his arms.

      Once again Zhongli began to attack your neck, except not as rough, not wanting to cause more pain than pleasure. Without warning, he slammed his dick into you, since you had already worked yourself open for him. Despite this, your walls still clung tightly to him, his large cock dragging deliciously against your walls as he hit all the right places. Both of your were on cloud nine, as he ruthlessly pounded into your.

     Normally when the two of you had sex, right before Zhongli came he would pull out and cum onto your stomach which he of course would clean up later. Not for any particular reason as to why since you were on birth control, it had just become a habit. This time however you wanted to do things a little different. You were getting close, and you could tell he was as well, as his breathing became more uneven and more low pitched noises started coming from him. Your walls fluttered around his cock, causing him to shutter and let out a low grunt. Before it was too late, you tightly wrapped your arms around the ex Archons next, and pulled him down closer so your lips were mere centimeters away from his ear.

     “Cum in me Zhongli, stuff me with your cum. I want every drop of it please I wanna feel you inside me even after you pull out. Archons please please Zhongli let me feel you cum. Breed me.” Zhongli’s eyes widened, those words causing something to snap in him as he was hit with another wave of pleasure, his thrust still maintaining their power but becoming more erratic. You could feel Zhongli’s calloused fingers rubbing quickly against your clit, sending new waves of pleasure through you. The moans coming from the two of you were matched perfectly, as the two of you got closer and closer. With a couple of final thrusts, Zhongli sheathed himself in you as deep as he could go, cumming shooting deep into you. The feeling of his cum filling you up is what sent you over the edge, cumming for the second time; your mouth falling open to form a silent scream. You could feel Zhongli beginning to ooze out of you as he pulled out, which made you shiver.

     “Let’s get you cleaned up shall we darling?” Zhongli was still a little out of breath as he stood from his position on top of you, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed a hold of him, before catching him off guard and pulling him back down.

     “Let me stay full for a little while longer.” Sleep was slowly starting to take over, as your eyelids couldn’t stay open. Your words went straight to Zhongli’s dick, but that was an issue he would take care of himself. For right now, he just pulled you into his chest, allowing you to drift off into blissful slumber.

[twodimecastle]

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

[muffindaddystyles]

Will mafia!h and Y/N will have babies? 🥺💓

IM SO SORRY TO TELL YOU THIS BESTIE BUT.... </3

39. " I'm not saying a goodbye."

It was raining. Skies a gloomy shade of cinereal. Harry’s sleek car came to a screeching halt infront of the vast threshold of his home -- his grin pearlish, eyes twinkling a spark as he gets out of the car not caring to close the door behind. He greets his staff and strides two steps together with a gorgeous bunch of his lovie’s favourite flowers now dewy with raindrops and his nose twitched upon sniffing the vanilla-y smell while passing the kitchen and with his beam never vanishing he leaned into the doorframe asking the people inside, “’Ave y'seen Y/N?” Only for them to shake their heads in uncertainty.

She hasn’t showed herself downstairs since morning and even though it’s very odd of her not to chirp around the mansion nobody went to knock at her door to inquire, they think she deserves privacy.

This time they should have because when Harry barged inside their room it was caliginous with curtains shut and lights dimmed to zero.

“Lovie?” His cheery voice clamoured against the walls, a sour feeling he couldn’t be aware of pinches him in throat as he bobbed his head around to look for her and it perked up when a shadow falls on his feet.

“Baby?” His smile quirked back onto his confused features and he narrowed his eyelids to take in her presence through the darkness of wardrobe, “Harry.” A shaky whisper floated towards him and before that sweet call she was falling against his chest.

“Y/N ... baby —-,” His stumped chuckle halted, his brain numbed for a moment when his fingertips brushed up her back to push her closer to him and they trembled as they collected the wetness there. His heart bleaks a stinging pain into it’s cords, his breath shuddered coldly, flowers falling sadly beside their feet and his eyes earths with tears of panic, angst and torment.

His fingertips coating in his love's thick blood.

“I –- ‘m .. you –.. you’re h-hu —- hurt,” He stammered through a whimper hand wrapping around the dagger whose half end’s stabbed into Y/N's spine, her weak frail body unresponsive though she could listen to him.

“Who did this to you! Who did this to you!?” His screams and cries startled everyone downstairs and they rushed up to see what’s happening, to be shocked by their sights of Y/N limp in Harry’s embrace.

He turned his neck to shout at them, “I need a hand t’help me!!” His eyes bloodshot and Niall his best-man scurried over to them as Harry carried Y/N and laid her on her tummy on the bed, he slips onto his knees putting his chin on the mattress to look in her hazy painful eyes -- tears caged in them but never flowing down.

“Harry ...” She mumbled grittily in agony lifting her shaky fingers to pet his face and like an affection starved kitten Harry doesn’t let her tire herself and gets closer to her himself, “Niall bring the first aid, it’s under the sink.” He commands him not letting his eyes drift from over her angelic face.

“You’re okay baby. You’re okay, I know how to stitch up knife wounds.” He sniffled sucking in a breath trying to be brave for her and she just smiled gorgeously, lips blue and cheeks draining out of her usual berry stain.

“Jesus. Harry she’s been stabbed thrice, those fuckers,” Niall’s words wavered in fear and sympathy for Y/N. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder as Harry sobbed upon hearing that, “No –-... no, no! It’s still okay yeah poppet? I’m g’na get y'alright.” He wanted to covers his eyes to block the hurting groans Y/N elicited and he cradled her soft face in his warm palms in comparison to her temperature, touching their temples to pray together.

“Harry li .. listen to —- to me,” She gasps eyes flittering over his shoulder towards Bambi and Thumper the two dogs that had gotten overly fond of her, Harry’s blurry gaze follows her enfeebled gesture for them to come near her.

They whined and howled sadly flopping beside Harry and Harry hiccupped into his elbow shaking his head when Y/N put her hand under their ears in effort to scratch them but wasn’t able to unfortunately, “Hi babies. You’re gonna look after dad after ‘m gone?” Everyone cried at that watching her soul leave their dull lives that watered colourful upon her arrival.

“Don’t say that! Don’t y'dare say that!” Harry sobbed rushing to hug her tightly, the front of his shirt loathing crimson and she hissed looping her arm against his neck when Niall pulled the dagger out from her lower spine gradually and slowly not to hurt her.

“’M so sorry baby, sorry for being the reason of y’pain.” His tears dampened her already sweaty crook of neck, “Pr – promise me t-that that you’ll have some —.. someone who lov‐-.. loves –--,” She whimpered. Her body jerked into him with a force and she pushed him weakly away to stitch her lips tenderly against his's.

“Tell me bubby. Ha—- have I loved y'enough?” She cooed into their kiss and Harry bolted his eyes shut, poisonous sobs wrecking out of his chest.

“Tell me before, I go ...” Her heartbeat started dropping insanely, her lips wobbled, toes curling with life excavating out of her, “Y'have. Y'have don’t go baby, I’m not saying a goodbye!” He cried showering her in kisses for the one last time and pets her hair, eyes closed praying she takes him with herself because he'd never recover from the pain of loosing the only person he loved more than himself, the person who made hum love himself.

“I love you ..” She whispered, her loving kind eyes locked against his’s and the pool of honey around her rims expanded, her lips parted around the gasping breaths and Harry begged and pleaded — a side of him no-one has ever witnessed as he twisted in anguish considering himself the unluckiest man on the earth for letting his lover go like this, in the worst possible way.

“I love you, I thought I’d never be capable of, y'made me worthy darling. I'll always love you baby....” He shrieked into her chest heaving her up gently to embrace her properly and even though he knew she was no more with him, he fooled himself into thinking so.

If it was possible he’d have clawed his ribs to pluck out his heart in return of hers and he felt like the sun and earth had crashed vanishing away the time spaces as he sat there crying and crying mourning the loss of his lovie that could never be healed by anything in this whole word.

He keeps on holding her, rocking back and forth as he lulls her to slumber of death.

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

His heart weeps.

His soul aches.

When rain stopped and that tranquil silence doomed over them, rage filled his every pore and vein.

He knew who did this. Harry has played dirty but he has never played unfair. It was this gang of companies who sabotaged and destructed the orphanages at the property which belonged to his mother (but the papers weren’t clear) to build restaurants and apartments there so Harry took revenge by burning acres of their illegal drug running underground factory and rebuilt the orphanages and took Y/N to one of their charity events.

She was the happiest he had ever seen her.

It’s like a gun barrel clicked in. A firecracker catching the fuse of ashe to burst everything into flames as Harry laid her with ever most tenderness and kissed her temple, her lifeless eyelids and her chapped lips.

Cleaned the streak of blood with his sleeve and didn’t wipe his tears away bashing out of the room, everyone stepped away as Niall lunged infront of him to stop him before he goes to cause damage to himself more than to them for being in such a vulnerable and weak state.

“Step away.” He growled angrily, gaze fiery and dangerous.

“No.” Niall sighed.

“I wouldn’t get her buried in sucha cold blood. She didn’t deserved this, hell nobody does.” Harry kissed his teeth together gripping at his hair ruthlessly, cheeks dry with tears, his limbs trembling, his head spinning.

“Anyone who wouldn’t follow my orders gets their kneecaps blow-off.” He grunted -- nostrils flaring and saying this he went away, snatching his guns from the console and ordered his men to find the security guards that had their duties at the main gates.

In just a day he hunted each of those monsters down like a hungry wolf and gave them such punished, tortured deaths that each one fell in Harry’s feet for his mercy but his heart was turned into a stone already because the only warmth it had there was because of one person and that person’s gone leaving him to survive in this hellhole alone while he dragged these bastards to the depths of firepits.

Once, coming back home to her. To his sunshine, to his soul and life, to his reasons of getting up every morning so he would get to spend time with her —- he broke down. Into shattered bits and pieces of remorse, guilt and sadness feeling himself so small and hurtable as he cried to himself all alone in their garden with no-one to console him where he’ll come to meet her daily.

He wants to rip his skin apart and set it on fire for his beating heart to stop, for it stop feeling.

He feels sick. Fainting, in urgency and desperation to hold his baby and never let go.

To lay down with her under the soil if that's possible.

his only reason to live.

His only beloved.

.

The wind giggles through pink leaves of cherry blossom tree, lush grass resting peacefully and Harry smiles to himself treading towards his two most favourite people in the world.

The spring being their heartiest month.

“Azalea! What y’chattering ‘bout t'mum?” He asks and nods proudly when his lil boy stands up from his cross position on the ground from beside his mother and brushes the grassy spikes from his cherry printed shorts with his little pudgy hands.

“My first day at school dada!” The four years old squeals and Harry scoops him up in his arms, kissing his cheek again amount less times, “Is that so, huh! huh!” He tickles his little bun.

Y/N was right. Isn’t she always. Harry chuckles. Even if she’s gone he still feels loved from her, she’s in the rains, in the sweaters he wears when he feels shallow, in the scent of his pillows, she’s in the vanilla smell of their favourite cupcakes – she’s in his dreams and that name of their son, Azalea.

She always wanted to name their first born Azalea, a blooming flower that happens to be a vibrant pink, a gift of spring, are floriferous in sunshine and she'd always say that Harry would be their sun.

Their ever source of happiness.

Azalea was three days old when his mother died and Harry took him home even though not sure of his own decision but something in those little eyes that matches his mommy made Harry’s heart attract towards him so much he brought him without another thought.

A home he built with Y/N. The curtains of the mansion still remains pushed back wide, flower vases on every furniture, not a day goes by when anyone doesn’t misses her and the ducklings has grown so much that Y/N would have been spinning in happiness around.

Nothing has changed, life’s fleeting for everyone except for Harry. He counts each day and night that goes without her beside him in his sleep, in the little picnics with Azalea and Niall, in the story reading at nights with his baby, in kitchen to watch the winters first rain prattling against that one window that’s old enough to carry the remains of his ancestors, she’s never there to share a noodle pot with him while he sits and eat alone, never there to patch his favourite socks back, to kiss his forehead whenever he leaves home, to call him sweet names and to laugh with him on his silly jokes, to do thumb fights, to get angry with him whenever he refuses to layer himself in cold.

Never.

Never physically. But, she’s always there in his heart, her presence lurks around him and he could feel the warmth of her wrapping around him whenever he falls asleep watching telly.

“What did y'learn today bubba?” He asks Azalea and grins cheekily when Azalea babbles, “Colours!”

“That’s fuckin’ amazin'!” At that a huge gush of breeze hits him in face a tiny branch of the tree they’re standing under falls on his head.

“Kay' kay fine! No cursing.” He squeaks in defence pouting down at the grave of his lovie and his face splits into a grin when his hair glittered up with cherry blossom leaves.

“We miss you very much,” His voice heavy and sad. He gulps chokingly and blinks away the glossiness, stroking a thumb up Azalea cheek who’s sitting in Harry’s lap.

Every evening they come to meet Y/N, the hole in his heart couldn’t fill up of her void but the soothing feeling of relief that she’s in their garden and nearer to him has lessened the grief.

“G’na meet you tomorrow, our baby’s mighty hungry.” He chuckles hearing the grumbling noises coming from Azalea’s belly.

“You’re so cheeky baby.” His eyes glimmers and he feels himself swooning into breeze, “How’s it going in heaven?” He asks airily tracing his initials beside her beautiful name engraved at the tombstone and it’s like she’s scolding him when he gets a nip on his pointy finger.

“Azalea kiss mommy a goodbye.” Harry breaks into laughter when Azalea bobs his head and almost tumbles of his daddy’s lap in the effort to reach the tombstone.

“Goodbye beautiful.” Harry whispers kissing the top of her tombstone and his heart bursts into lilacs when once again he’s showered into petal like leaves.

“I love you too, baby.” Finally he has accepted to say goodbyes.

[sound-overlord]

just watched the ending of the second season of rebels and here's the thots that are now in my mind in no particular order:

kanan called maul grandpa

mauls cane saber that he rips apart to be dramatic

how long was maul there before the jedi-ish arrived ? like did he have to wait for them im assuming he had some force vision or w/e that told him both abt the temple/weapon and ezra but like.... was he living there or ?

grandpa maul

what do u think maul and asohka talked abt on their turn in the lift lol ???? like for pacing reasons we dont need to kno and she was probably curt w him obviously but what did he saayyyy killing me

mauls earring gets me everytime like i know its there i can see it i am looking RESPECTFULLY

gpa maul

mauls pls help me im old~ voice is really funny to me

the inquisitors using their sabers to fly is already funny but the helicopter noise the blades made was soo fucking funny smdvkdb

like i know that this was a tragedy for asohka and kanan and ezra and mauls entire life is a tragedy and vader and the inquisitors also did not have a good time there but these episodes made me laugh so much and thats why its a comedy now

maul assigned grandpa at the kanan

ezra just has an evil holocron now i guess ???

asohka fucking DIED and we didnt even get to see the fight im literally so mad like i love violence let me see it 😤

they just pushed maul over the edge

like begone away from the plot

u red and angery grandpa

how tired of being pushed off of things do you think maul is at this point? do u think he'll develop a fear of hights ? much to think abt

what do u think maul was doing after he got thrown off the temple tho like obviously he was unconscious or he wouldve rematerialized on the ledge he was thrown off like a video games character if he wasnt but like do u think he was like *spongebob voice* "oh well. back to the dump. to the dump to the dump to the dump dump dump..." or if he just laid there for a minute

"my apprentice" yeah your apprentice, maul. "your" apprentice is a little RAT boy who's worse at being bad than he is at being good, maul. -_- typical.

"hey ezra whos the red crazy guy ?" "oh thats my grandpa"

mauls genuine excitement when he said "we're on the same side now :)" hskdhdkbdkdbd baby no

do u think at any point one of the writers were like "how do we show like via visual metaphor ezra's-and therefor any padawan's- struggle not to fall to the darkside?" and mr filoni's eyes started glowing as he responded "i know a guy"

its ~grandpa maul~

i wonder who vader was expecting to find at this sith temple tho like did he have any idea

did maul know either?? probably not. i bet he was kinda excited to see lady tano like "bitch u survived too :D!!"

the sith baking "u need two to pass" in everything in the temple is also funny to me like. they really would rip themselves apart as a group otherwise dndjdmd go off with that

maul just. blinding kanan. oOh (gay ooh) hes fucken blind now brugh. he did That.

im pretty mad that they didnt cut to maul's reaction to being called grandpa tho like did he think abt that at all, did he call ezra his apprentice because kanan used a familial term or was it more like he started doing the math like oh maybe i am about that age wait did he ever have sex before the bisection like did he have the time did ol' palpy let him or give him The Talk like obviously everyone in star wars is a virgin like hera and kanan havent even kissed yet wtf- except maybe hondo but like if maul ever DID find himself in that situation..................... oh my god he COULD be a grandpa.................

[lepusrufus]

Sometimes the girls butt heads, sometimes they tear each other to shreds. This got kinda long so im breaking it into two parts since i have two sketches for it anyways. Enjoy the gory angst under the cut my lovelies (and the sketch although kinda messy)

(Also in case there’s any confusion, here’s my hc on how the daughter’s mutations work. Just in case anyone looks at this and thinks why tf does she have weird bat wings)

Butting heads part 1 (p2)

“Shut up, Bela! Shut the fuck up!”

The shout, bordering on a howl, could be heard all throughout the lower levels of the castle. Cassandra was pinned to the wall by her older sister, an arm pressed firmly against her throat. She was thrashing wildly, talon tipped fingers ripping at anything they could reach. But Bela was more focused on the elongating sharp fangs snapping in her direction. 

“Cassandra calm down-”

“No. You don’t know shit! Fuck you!”

Her skin was starting to turn ashy and thick, dark blood was dripping from her nose and mouth, some of it splattering on Bela’s face. The mutation was even causing her flies to destabilize, part of the swarm buzzing frantically around them, unable to find its place. 

The situation was escalating quickly and Bela’s calm was cracking under her sister's talons. Too focused on keeping Cassandra in place, she couldn’t will her flies to break apart and reform when long claws were slashing at her arms. She could feel her own blood coating her skin and soaking her dress. 

Even on a good day, Cassandra was physically the strongest. What she may have lacked in speed she made up for in sheer brute force. And that was when she looked like a semi normal human.

Daniela was well aware of this, so when she approached the two to help, Bela’s head quickly snapped in her direction. 

“No, Dani stay ba-”

The small distraction was all Cassandra needed to push herself off the brick wall and come crashing down on top of her sister. Her hand was pushing down with all her weight crushing bone and muscle. A choked yelp escaped Bela’s lips when her sister suddenly bit down on her midsection, close to the bottom of her ribcage, and yanked her head back, pulling apart the blood soaked skin. 

Then everything went black.

Bela could faintly hear a fourth voice drowned out by frantic buzzing. Were the flies hers or Cassandra’s? The heavy weight on top of her was lifted and all she could do was curl up and groan in pain. She instinctively tried to cover her abdomen but when her hand came in contact with exposed and torn muscle, pain shot through her entire body like a bullet. Her right arm also seemed to not obey her, pain joining in on the agony party each time she tried to lift it off the dirty floor. The floor had been clean before. Why did it feel so grimy under her body now? The only explanation that her hazy mind could come up with was that she was laying in a puddle of blood. Whether it was hers, Cassandra’s or both was up to debate. 

A series of strangled growls reached her ears accompanied by a rushed exchange of words and the buzzing was starting to feel like static and everything was so goddamn loud. 

She was somewhat snapped out of her haze when a pair of arms lifted her along with a gentle voice.

“Hey, hey, you’re good I got you”

“Daniela?” 

Her youngest sister’s face came slowly into focus after realizing that her inability to see was caused by keeping her eyes tightly shut. She wouldn't normally allow such vulnerability but right now she was tired and the entirety of her upper body hurt and each breath was painfully ragged. So she defeatedly leaned on her sister’s shoulder and allowed herself to be carried to what she assumed was the infirmary. 

----

A couple hallways away, Alcina was carrying her thrashing and growling middle daughter. Without another body to claw at, Cassandra resorted to sinking her talons into her own flesh, clearly in pain now. Her mother quickened her pace and finally ducked into a bedroom. It was one of the more barren rooms of the castle, with only a couple pieces of furniture and a large bed inside. It had no decoration that could be crashed into and cause her child any more injuries. 

Cassandra was gingerly lowered on the soft sheets, Alcinas tenderness a stark contrast to her daughter’s violent shaking and clawing at the fabric on the bed. 

Cassandra had yet to regain any semblance of conscious thought. All Alcina could do for her was sit beside her and wait for hunger to take over enough for her body to be too weak to exist in that state. She tried gentle strokes, but each touch, no matter how gentle, broke the skin into a small frantic swarm that seemed to struggle to find its place again. It felt like hours before Cassandra stopped spasming, but with how fast hunger settled in when the girls mutated it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. 

“Mom?” Her voice came out raspy and choked, probably due to the blood stuck in her throat.

“I’m here little one.” 

Alcina tentatively stroked her daughter’s damp hair. When her form remained whole, she gently pulled her head in her lap.

“It hurts-” 

Her complaint was cut short with a groan at the searing pain caused by hunger. She wrapped her arms around her midsection in an useless attempt to ease her own suffering. 

Alcina winced at how Cassandra was dipping her talons into the skin of her abdomen, too delirious to realize that was only causing more pain. So she grabbed her hands and held them still.

Cassandra started to shake again, mumbling under her breath.

“We were-...were hunting and I” she interrupted herself with a sob “messed up. Bela an…. ‘m sorry-”

“Shh, it’s okay love. You need to focus on going back to normal now darling,” Alcina cooed.

 Cassandra scrunched her nose and shut her eyes. She did her best to focus on the flies that formed her body, willing them to set back in their rightful place and to stop shifting and breaking apart. She had mild success and now the big frantic swarm was reduced to a smaller group of flies still buzzing about the room. The hunger and pain were still present as ever though, her bones and muscles breaking and tearing apart from the mutation’s effects. 

Alcina praised her for regaining some semblance of control and told her something that fell on deaf ears. The next thing the brunette knew was that she was being shifted off her mother’s lap and out of instinct she grabbed the white dress in order to keep her near.

“Darling, did you hear me?” Alcina’s voice was soft and she waited until her daughter’s eyes were focused on her to continue. “I’m going to bring you something to eat. I’ll be back in 5 minutes.”

Cassandra only groaned in response, the mere mention of food worsening the pain in her abdomen. She nodded slowly and curled back into herself, allowing her mother to exit the room in a rush. 

Left alone, she kept trying to fight against her own body. She could feel the sickening cracks of her bones placing themselves back in position. Her muscles felt like writhing parasites under her skin, shifting and twisting and occasionally falling apart into flies to reposition themselves. The hunger was the perfect cherry on top of the agony cake she was feeling.

It felt like an eternity before the door finally opened and her mother approached the bed with a big plate of fresh raw meat. Cassandra started to dig in the moment it was within her reach. She didn’t know exactly what body part she was chewing on at the moment but she didn’t care in the slightest. It took her no more than five minutes to finish everything, almost choking a couple of times.

She sighed in relief and let her head fall back on the now stained sheets. The pain was still present, but it felt more like a dull ache rather than jolts shaking her entire body. The comforting circles that her mother was rubbing on her back were also helping. 

“How are you feeling, little one?” 

“Better.”

Alcina smiled fondly at her daughter, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the top of her head. 

“Will you be alright on your own for a bit? I need to check on Bela-”

The brunette’s head snapped up, eyes wide. She had forgotten how this mess started in the first place and now that she remembered, guilt started to gnaw at her like the ache in her bones. 

“I’ll come with y-”

“Ah ah ah, you will do no such thing. Rest for now, I’m sure she’s fine,” she lied. The image of Bela laying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood and her upper body almost torn to shreds was seared in her mind. The only comfort right now came from the fact that Daniela was taking care of her and, while unpredictable, her youngest cared deeply about her sisters and was more than capable of patching wounds.

Alcina planted another kiss on Cassandra's head and placed a blanket on top of her. She left her side with the promise of coming back shortly and exited the room, door left just slightly ajar so she could hear if her daughter called for her.

[adorerdraco]

Good Enough ✧ Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

Request: hiii i love your writing!! can you write about a sweet hufflepuff and how everyone thinks they aren’t a good pair together so one day Pansy bullies the reader into breaking it off with Draco because she feels like she’s not good enough for him then draco finds out and he’s really mad at Pansy?

Another seventh year AU where Voldermort never existed !

Warnings: bullying, slight angst, crying, cursing (barely), sad!draco, angry!draco, implied smut towards the end (also extra mean slytherins for the purpose of this imagine but i have nothing against them i <3 them as much as any other house)

Words: 4.5K

A/N: hiii thank youuuu 🥺💗 !!!!!! but ahhhh omg im a hufflepuff so i hope i delivered good hufflepuff energy in this oneee :’))) i think this might be my new favorite thing ive written omg but i do not own gif 

There was truly no explanation how you, a kind Hufflepuff, managed to become friends, let alone a couple, with the proud and arrogant Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy. 

On the outside, your relationship to everyone seemed uncanny and plain wrong. Even your friends and housemates had looked down on it for a while but eventually came around and just let you be. You couldn’t say the same for the Slytherin’s, however, because if there was one house they disliked more than Gryffindor; it was Hufflepuff.

They berated you and Draco for weeks after they found out he had started a relationship with you. They scowled at you when you would walk by them sometimes calling you names depending on whether or not Draco was by your side. He always defended you and you did your best to ignore them, but they were relentless. You had only been dating for about a month now and the tantalizing comments from Slytherin’s and anyone else who wanted tear the two of you down were right now seeming endless.

“Why can’t people leave us alone,” you said sadly to him one night. You were lying with him in a patch of grass outside the castle, head against his chest as his hand lazily traced patterns onto your bicep.

“They’re only jealous,” he sneered quietly. “People get mad at what they can’t have or what they can't understand.”

Draco’s patience with people was worsening each and every day. His housemates, regularly, would corner him in the common room and interrogate him with questions that made him want to rip his hair out.

“Is this some sort of prank you haven’t told us about, Malfoy?”

“A Hufflepuff? Have you gone mad?”

“Is she blackmailing you with something, mate?”

“Haven’t you thought about how that makes us Slytherin’s look?”

“She’s a blood-traitor!”

The questioning would always lead to him yelling and threatening everyone aggressively before he locked himself in his Prefect dorm or would leave the common room altogether in a fury. Those were the days he would find you after he calmed down and would hug you tightly, pressing kisses all over your face as he praised you with everything he adored about you to how happy you made him and how perfect you were for him. 

You, on the other hand, were dealing with much worse. You never told Draco some of the awful things people would say to you when he wasn’t around. You would stand up for yourself very rarely, confrontation not really being your first approach to handling things but when the insults were bad enough, you were forced to.

You would always hear a variation of the same things said either directly to you or from obvious whispering, majority of them being from Slytherin and the occasional judgmental comment from others.

“Filthy Hufflepuff!”

“Can’t believe one of them is dating one of ours.”

“What does Malfoy even see in her?”

“You’d think someone who’s supposed to be kind wouldn’t want anything to do with such an arse.”

More than ever, Draco found himself giving you an excessive amount of compliments and reassurances that he thought would balance out the insults and criticisms you would tell him about or he would witness. Everything he would tell you was true, of course, but you always felt like he said them out of pity or like he had to.

“I appreciate you trying to make it better, but you don’t have to keep complimenting me, Dray.” You’ve said to him countless times.

And he would often respond with, “but I need you to know how I feel about you.”

Despite the constant uphill battle, your relationship with the platinum blond was everything you hoped for and more. Considering your friendship had started on rocky beginnings a year ago, you would have never thought you’d be with him now.  You couldn’t thank the stars more for when your aged and nearly blind owl had flown straight into the back of his head, pecking at him while he tried to swat it away which then led to him giving you a piece of his mind and trying to hex your owl - causing you to try to hex him just as McGonagall happened to be passing by the fiasco that landed both of you in a months-long detention for reckless magic usage. It was in detention when the two of you were forced to spend time together and realized that the other wasn’t as bad as they thought.

Draco, much like everyone else, always believed Hufflepuffs to be weak and cowardly, too kind for their own good - but he quickly learned how common of a misconception that was the longer he knew you. You always fought for what was morally right, defended those you love and are loyal to courageously, and were sweet and friendly with everyone you talked to whether you knew them or not.

He gravitated towards your kindness and empathetic approach to everything. He loved to see the smiles you put on people’s faces or the way animals would randomly come up to you and immediately trust you enough to give them gentle pets that they always leaned into. He even loved the way you talked to everyone as your equals, something he rarely saw in his environment. Everything you did was a vast difference to what he saw on the daily from his cold and aloof peers, but it was a difference he enjoyed. He wished so deeply that everyone could see and understand how amazing you were to him and he was determined to make it happen.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked shyly as he held your hand tightly in his, walking you slowly over to his large group of his closest Slytherin friends that were all gathered around a bench under a tree in the courtyard.

The Prince of Slytherin believed that if he could get his friends to at least tolerate you, then everyone else would follow in suit. He only associated himself with the best and most influential of his house so if there was anyone that could improve his current situation; it would be them. You were a little uneasy about his plan, but later agreed when he had convinced you that his idea couldn’t and wouldn’t fail.

“Of course it is!” He exclaimed encouragingly. “Plus, I’m Draco Malfoy, they’ll like anything I tell them to like.”

“Okay,” you sighed, rolling your eyes slightly at his boast.

The closer you got to them, the more you felt your hands begin to sweat and the heat crawling up your face. They all began to turn towards the two of you, their eyes focusing on you and you only with a pointed gaze. You started to realize how greatly you underestimated how intimidating they looked. Especially the one girl who made it her mission to bother you every chance she could get - always from afar while she pointed at you and whispered something into her friend’s ears while they laughed or when she would pass by you and say something rude under her breath.

“Look what Malfoy’s dragged in!” Pansy Parkinson called out with a malicious smirk on her face as she eyed you.

“Give it a rest, Pansy,” Blaise sighed, “If Malfoy wants us to meet his little friend then so be it.”

“Not my little friend, my girlfriend,” Draco corrected angrily as the two of you finally reached the group. “This is Y/N and I wanted you all to meet her since I plan on having her around for a long while, so you might as well get used to it.”

“Long while? Poor thing can’t even introduce herself,” Pansy laughed tauntingly.

“I think Draco introduced me just fine right now but if you want, I’ll do it again to make you feel better,” you smiled a big fake toothy grin at her. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Everyone snickered at your response, watching for the girl’s reaction as her nostrils flared in irritation. Draco smiled to himself and gave your hand a quick squeeze, feeling proud that you found a way to talk back to her in the nicest way possible.

“Right, well, I’m sure you know this is; Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Pike, Flint, Nott, and...” Draco pointed to everyone, trailing off when he reached the only girl in the group, “I don’t think that one needs an introduction, she rather do it herself, right Parkinson?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, giving the blond a false squinty-eyed grin with attitude.

“So, you want us to be the nice to the Hufflepuff then?” Zabini questions, pointing a finger towards you.

“Yes, I want you to be nice to, Y/N,” Draco corrected again, his hand getting tighter in your grasp as he spoke. “That goes for all of you and everyone else in this bloody house. I don’t want to hear anything bad about her or us coming from anyone ever again or you’ll have me to answer to. I don’t care how friendly we are.”

“So he has to defend you too now?” Pansy spoke again, “Merlin, it’s a wonder how you Hufflepuff sort even survive in this world.”

Before anyone could say anything, you mustered up all the courage you had and stepped forward towards the irked girl in front of you.

“Listen, I don’t want any more trouble with you or anyone,” you rushed out. “I just want to go about my day without having to hear how disgusting and weak I am.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate but Blaise put a hand in front of her and pushed her back before she got any closer to you.

“Alright, we’ll try,” he answered for the group quickly in an annoyed tone, “but I can’t promise that for the rest of Slytherin. They really don’t like you guys together, thinks it makes them look bad. Eventually, they’ll get tired of it and move on to the next.”

“That’s as good as its gonna get,” Goyle guffawed, Crabbe and Pike snickering alongside him.

You sighed, looking up at Draco and slightly tugging at his hand while you silently begged him to take you out of there but he didn’t catch the hint and instead did the complete opposite when he had turned towards the only boy in the group who seemed to have brains.

“Zabini, can I talk to you really quick?” He asked gruffly. Blaise deeply sighed and nodded, the two boys breaking away from the group and stopping a few feet away before talking in angry hushed voices to each other.

You - all of a sudden felt very small and sick, your eyes frantically bouncing around the group as they watched you squirm. Pansy took this as her chance to step closer towards you, stopping a few inches away from you while a smirk made its way onto her face.

“Since you obviously don’t see the bigger picture, I’ll paint it for you,” she began contemptuously, “you and Draco really don’t belong together, at all. Sure, you might think everything’s fine right now, but what’ll happen when he gets tired of defending you and proving you to everyone. You think Hogwarts is your problem? Just wait until you meet the Malfoy’s. Do you really think his father would like or even tolerate a filthy blood traitor like you?”

You gaped at her, taking a few shaky steps away from her as her words hit you like a truck.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” she gets in your face again, her hand reaching up to grip your shoulder tightly to hold you in place. “He needs to be with someone of his status, a pure-blooded Slytherin who comes from a good wealthy family who holds all the same beliefs as the Malfoy’s. If I were you, I’d end it before you ruin his life any more than you already have and end up leaving him without a family or his inheritance.”

“Are you trying to say that ‘someone’ should be you?” You question through gritted teeth, shrugging your shoulder hard out of her clawed grasp.

“I never said that,” she smiles, “but who am I to say it shouldn’t be?” 

Pansy tauntingly walked away from you, a smug look on her face as she noticed just how obviously she had hurt you. You wanted to run away and cry, but you held it together for the sake of your last remaining dignity and so that you wouldn’t please your assailant even more than you already have.

Draco turned to stroll back towards the group with Blaise, his eyes landing on your shuddering figure and the broken look in your eyes as they met his. He looked around at the rest of the group who were talking amongst themselves, unknowing to them that Parkinson had just ripped a new one on you. She stood around them, looking at her nails with an uninterested look in her eyes and when she felt Draco’s eyes on her, she looked up and smiled at him innocently. 

‘Bitch,’ you thought.

He slowly walked towards you, taking your hand and deeply frowning when you immediately slipped it out of his.

“What’s wrong?” His voice dripped with concern, his sad gray’s searching your face for any answer as to why you were suddenly acting so cold.

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed out. “Alone.”

He nodded, instinctively reaching out for your hand only for you to reject it again. He felt queasy at the response, his heart falling to his stomach as you turned around and began walking away. His legs were moving hastily behind you, a dooming tension had fallen between the two of you and he couldn’t for the life of him find a reason why.

Pansy’s words were like a game of pinball on a constant loop in your mind. Your thoughts were bumping and flying haphazardly as you tried to make sense of them and what you were about to do. And as much as you hated to admit it - the wench was right. You would never be able to offer Draco and his family anything that would ever be close to enough. You were just a sweet, regular Hufflepuff, someone far from who his family expected to date. And what if you did end up staying with him? You figured you would end up breaking up years later when he would be forced to marry someone else. Or in the slight chance, he fought against that, there was no way you’d forgive yourself if he lost his family and his future because of your own selfish needs.

You stopped at an empty corridor, sitting at one of the windowsills you regularly sat at with the platinum blond when the two of you snuck out at night to meet each other. Your head fell into your hands, your thoughts raging louder in your head and now through your body as you began to unwillingly shake. The held back tears had finally broken out in a waterfall of sadness, frustration, and grief.

Draco only watched, his heartbreaking at the sight as he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on your knees while he tried to figure out what to say.

“Darling, please tell me what’s gotten you like this,” he pleads sadly. “If it’s about what Blaise said, I made a deal with him so he would try and help.”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered, choking back the lump in a feeble attempt to try and get yourself calmed down enough to talk to him.

He sat back on his heels, his hand running down his face in distress as he racked through his brain for anything else that might have gotten you like this. He let you cry for a bit, feeling useless as he watched you go through an internal battle he had no clue about.

“Then what is it? Tell me and I’ll fix it,” he says softly when he saw your tears had finally been reduced to stray droplets on your face.

“You can’t,” you sniffle. Your hand weakly brushed over his paled slender fingers that were holding your knee gently. He turned his palm upwards for you and you placed your shaking hand in his while you basked in the final moments of his warmth. You regrettably slipped out of his grip before you spoke the words you couldn’t take back. “We can’t be together anymore.”

Draco blinked, his stomach dropping as soon as the words left your mouth. “What?”

You stood up, backing away from him as you shook your head. “Everyone was right - I’ll never be good enough for you, for your friends, for your family. You deserve to be with someone who makes your life easier, not harder.”

“Where did all this come from?” He asks incredulously, standing up from his spot on the floor as he painfully watched your slowly retreating figure. “It’s all rubbish is what it is. You’ve never made my life harder.”

“Draco, look around you!” You exasperated, your arms flailing around you. “You had to make a deal with your own friends for them to even be nice to me. Your house can’t stand me and they take it out on the both of us! And what about your parents? You know for a fact they would hate me, don’t even try and deny it.”

Pale hands ran through his hair, his fingers pulling at the platinum strands in frustration.

“I thought you didn’t care about all that,” he said woefully. “I thought you’d know by now none of it matters.”

“Well, I care now,” you answer back gloomily. “And you should too.”

There was a spinning and nauseating feeling in the pit of the Slytherin’s stomach, his heart violently jumping around in his chest as he let you storm away from him. 

He let his back fall against a pillar, a deep and burning exhale falling from his trembling lips while he stared at a live painting across from him. It was of three women, the chalices in their hands supposed to be joined in a toast above them while they smiled gleefully in celebration, 3 of Chalices, it read in the caption below the frame. Instead of being in their usual position, they stared at him with pity in their softly painted eyes as they slowly raised their cups towards him in a way of showing their condolences.

He nodded curtly at them before he kicked himself off the wall and dragged himself towards the Great Hall where they were serving dinner and where he would undoubtedly find his so-called friends. He prepared himself to break the news to them, knowing they would be over the moon about it and as much as he wanted to join them in their delight, he couldn’t push away the large ache that had settled itself in his chest.

“We’re done,” he muttered dreadfully to himself, “it’s over.”

He was testing out different ways he could tell everyone the long-awaited news but they all left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I think you’ll all be delighted to know, Y/N-” he tried again but he lost his train of thought when he spoke your name. It was like taking an invisible kick to his heart as if Peeves the Poltergeist had somehow crawled into his body and was wreaking his usual havoc on his insides. 

The second he stepped into the Great Hall and saw his group sitting there, eating and laughing amongst everyone else, he felt sick all over again. There was no way he could stomach the triumph they were about to unleash, but he sucked it up and drudged towards them anyway.

“You look ghastly,” Pansy snickers, already having a feeling as to why he looked so rough. He stopped at the bench, hesitating to sit down because he knew he’d want to dash the second everyone started to relentlessly bash you.

“Deal’s off, Zabini,” the blond spoke lowly. “I’m not with Y/L/N anymore so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re better off without her, Malfoy,” Blaise said delightedly. “Can’t believe you nearly had us associating with a blood traitor. It’s better that she’s gone.”

“Yeah, we ought to thank Pansy for that,” Crabbe laughed loudly through a mouthful of food. Pansy kicked his shin under the table, and he recoiled too fast, the food in his mouth getting shot in the wrong direction as he started choking.

“Pansy?” Draco repeated, his eyes falling towards the shying girl. “What did Pansy do?”

“What?” Crabbe coughed roughly, “did no one else see her talking to the ickle Hufflepuff?”

Pansy kicked him again and he wailed out a “stop kicking me, you donkey!”

Any ounce of sadness Draco had in his body was immediately washed out in rage. He wanted to flip over the table and scream at everyone in his path, but he only turned towards Pansy again and asked her calmly.

“What did you say to her?”

“I only told her the truth!” She said coyly, holding her hands up in defense.

“What” his fist had slammed onto the table making everyone sitting near the contact jump in surprise, “did you say to her!”

“The truth! Or are you too blind to see it too?” She sneered at him. “Do you honestly think the two of you would last? Look at who you are, Draco!”

“Talk to me ever again and I swear I’ll hex you,” he spat, turning hot on his heel as he stormed out of the Great Hall, his friends staring at his retreating figure in shock at the outburst.

Draco found himself rushing through stairs and corridors, his heart racing as he searched for the place he just knew you’d be. Now that he knew the full story, he needed to talk to you. Even if you didn’t change your mind, he wanted to at least try to fix what had been broken. The tall and bronzed doors were ajar, a small light filtering through the dark corridor he was nearly running down. 

A mop of bright silver hair had peaked through the crack in the doors of the Hogwarts kitchen, worried gray eyes following in suit as they searched the room for its target. He found you hunched over a small dessert plate, a half-eaten cake being drenched in your tears that never seemed to stop. There was a house-elf next to you, looking up at you from the floor in concern while they patted your leg. 

“Mister!” a scraggly voice croaked out from below him. He looked down to find a rugged looking house-elf staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows and hands on its hips. “Students are prohibited in the kitchen.”

“There’s a student right there,” he pointed towards you.

“She’s an exception!” the elf exclaimed wildly.

Draco shook his head before walking past the small creature, power walking straight towards you while it ran behind him.

“Wait till Gonpy tells the Headmaster about this!” The elf calls, “Gonby asks your name, sir!””

“Vincent Crabbe,” Draco answers mindlessly as he continued walking towards the far end of the room that very closely resembled the Great Hall and its vastness.

The familiar accent rang through your ears, your glassy eyes shooting up in surprise when you see the reason for your tears hurrying towards you.

“Before you say anything, you need to listen to me,” he starts desperately once he reaches you. “I know it was Pansy who put those thoughts into your head. I know you think you’re not enough for me. And I know you think I was always complimenting you out of pity, but you couldn’t be more wrong about any of that. I say all those things to you because I mean it. You are everything to me. You are more than enough for me just by being you. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been and sometimes I wonder if I’m even good enough for you. But you need to understand how much I love you.”

“Draco,” you breathe, heart leaping in your chest at his rambling speech, “I love you too. But what about everyone else, how are we even supposed to be with each other in peace?”

“To hell with everyone else,” he responds quickly, walking around the edge of the table so that he was now only mere centimeters away from you. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you blink at him, “but do you really think your parents would let this happen?”

“We’ll deal with them when the time comes,” he mumbles, his hand finding its way to your puffy cheek where he let it rest. “Besides, my mother likes anything that makes me happy, so I know for a fact at least she will end up loving you just as much as I do.”

You nodded happily, a new hope bubbling in your stomach as you lurched towards him and hugged the stressed boy against you tightly. The both of you let out a breath of relief at the same time from the contact, finally feeling back in balance after the short-lived sorrow. 

He pulled away from you and leaned down into you, his lips capturing yours in a tender and passionate kiss. That was when the elves you had forgotten about had quickly stopped eavesdropping, scurrying themselves away from the table as they went to start cleaning up the kitchen. 

It was minutes before you had finally pulled away, looking dreamily into the happy gray’s that gazed back at you. You admired him for a couple seconds, feeling very content before you reached up towards him again, tangling your hands in his hair and pressing another kiss onto his now swollen lips. He moved needily against you, pushing your body flush the table as he held you tightly against him.

“Ahem,” a small voice uncomfortably called out from below. It was the same elf who had chased Draco down the kitchen when he walked in, a frown on his face as he stared at the two of you. “Gonpy and the house-elves make food here!”

“I’m sorry, Gonpy,” you hurriedly apologize, ripping yourself away from a ragged breathing Draco as you bent down to shake hands with the elf. “Thank you for making me cake and letting me cry here, you’re a Hogwarts hero.”

“Gonpy thanks you, Miss Y/L/N! The truest, kindest Hufflepuff!” 

Draco bit back a smile at the interaction. You stood up and reached your hand behind you for the Slytherin to take and as the two of you walked away, he yelled out a quick, “Thanks Gonpy!”

And once the two of you were near the exit, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed his body against your back, lowering his mouth towards your ear and kissing the skin right below it before whispering, “do you want to go back to my dorm?”

You nodded eagerly, giggling loudly as the two of you stumbled out of the door underneath his hold and into the dimly lit corridor before pulling apart and racing towards the direction of the dungeons with his hand interlocked in yours.

[silkylious]

Limbo (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: bakugo katsuki x female reader warnings: heavy angst, eventual tiny bit of fluff at the end

omf this request is so nice i feel so bad that my writing is literally garbage in this, but thank you sm for requesting this!! <3 and im so sorry if i didn’t do your request justice (i legit hate my writing here :’))

To say the state of your relationship was unbearable would be the euphemism of the century.

Your thoughts often ran amuck, always hopelessly crawling back to that one despaired curiosity; wondering if he shared the same sentiment about your wishy-washy “friends” status as you did. He probably didn’t. That’s the seemingly unshakable brick wall that would inevitably dead-end your lovesick daydreams, each and every time. Though when his roughed-up hands linger on your skin a millisecond too long, when his steeled stare melts, hard rubies morphing into blazing lava pits, threatening to mar your very heart and soul with their scorching intensity –you’re not exactly certain you’d mind that– that’s when a flicker of something ignites within you. Hope, longing, doubt. Whatever it is, it terrifies you. Because you’re agonizingly aware of what that entails. He’s got you hook, line and sinker, but torturously he refuses to do anything with that. Almost like pulling someone in for a hug then abruptly and without explanation stopping midway, he keeps you at arm’s length. Not too far, not too close. And how that cycle destroyed you.

Katsuki was the type to jump into action and ask questions later. Except a lot of the times when these questions pertain to his own emotions, he didn’t even try to answer them, opting to shove them to the corners of his psyche, collecting dust, steadily accumulating until they become too much to ignore and he (sometimes quite literally) explodes. It’s a vicious loop that he could never break away from, he’d even come to find a sordid comfort in it. His coping mechanism was by no means healthy, far from it, but he’d grown familiar to the toxicity.

Katsuki couldn’t make heads nor tails of his feelings for you. Whenever he impulsively threw himself into the lion’s den that was your affection, caught in the moment, in the glimmer of genuine adoration in your eyes, he never came back the same. A piece of his heart would irreversibly split off and reside in the palm of your hand, he was scared that nothing would be left of it, that he wouldn’t be able to regain his bearings until it was too late. You so effortlessly juggled with his feelings, all with a single smile, it scared him that you had so much power over the fluttery sensation in his chest and yet, in the moment, it felt good. It felt so good to indulge in whatever fucky feeling was messing with his head, to let you hold him in the depths of obscurity with all prying eyes shut and what little words exchanged hushed. It felt so alleviating to feel skin on his own (for once not in battle), gentle, comforting but not coddling. It was unspoken between you that you were both more than friends. You knew it, he knew it. Neither of you ever mentioned it. What neither of you knew, however, was how far the other’s feelings ran.

But as high as your silent love made him feel, he crashed back down into the concrete when he was left to his own devices. Without your intoxicating scent, distracting touches fogging his rationality, Katsuki had all the time in the world to overthink. And overthink he did. His pride picked apart the delicate flowering in his heart, ripping it petal by petal until nothing was left but a garden of beautifully withered leaves, a condemnation to what he considered a weakness.

Katsuki was a taker by every sense of the word. Basking in your wispy adoration, only to brush you aside in favor of focusing on academics once he’d had his fill of your love. It was sickening.

Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t outright confessed to him, maybe that’s what soothed the overbearing guilt that crawled up his throat whenever he saw that dejected face of yours, the one you made because of him. If your feelings for him ran deep, surely you would have said something by now, at least that’s what he thought. Or more precisely, that’s the excuse his mind conjured up in hopes of easing his conscious, trying to convince himself that self that yes, he was hurting you, but at least he wasn’t hurting you that bad. He was infinitely aware that this doesn’t put him in any sort of moral high ground, nor does it justify his actions, but, again, it was a last-ditch effort to relieve his anguish if just by a little bit, even if he knew that excuse was bullshit.    

Surely he knew, there’s no way in hell someone as hawk-eyed as him didn’t notice the tyranny he held over the porcelain pitter-pattering of your heart, didn’t notice the fleeting, love-filled glances you sent his way. This was getting ridiculous, you were starting to believe he was taking some twisted sense of pleasure from your heartache, but he wouldn’t do that, right? He didn’t derive some sick kick out of having you indefinitely under his thumb, at his beck and call… right? A few months ago, you would have answered those uncertainties with a resounding “No!” defending his cruel behavior till the bitter end. But now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

And yet you still found yourself in his dorm, on his bed. It was supposed to be another study gathering, but one thing was glaringly missing. Y’know… the gathering. Kirishima was out training and he hadn’t bothered to invite the rest of his brain-dead, self-proclaimed squad. And that’s how you found yourself alone. With your best friend and secret crush. Just dandy.

Your hands were restless. Pulling at the seams of his blanket, cracking your own fingers, picking up your pencil for a brief moment of concentration, answering one or two questions only to drop it back on the mattress again and fidget some more. Katsuki wasn’t fucking blind, and your unease was ticking him off. Though he surprisingly hadn’t said a thing about it just yet, he was clearly nearing his wit’s end. His silence didn’t prevail for much longer, the meek sigh and not so subtle glance you chanced his way being his tipping point.

“What.” It came out as a statement, a demand rather than a question. What was he demanding? He hadn’t thought of that yet, his temperamental limbs already taking the wheel and pressing on the gas without a destination in mind, just being short fused for the sake of it. Was it even his place to be making demands in this situation? Katsuki knew the answer to this one like the back of his hand, a solid no.

“What…?” You really had no idea what Bakugo was expecting with a question like that. He still had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“The hell’s got you so jumpy?”

“It’s nothing…” It was a lot more than nothing, that’s for sure.

“Don’t lie to me, (name). What the fuck is up with you?” Ah, there it is again. That look. His words were as cut-throat as ever, and his mouth was still pulled into that seemingly permanent scowl. But his eyes conveyed something that was whole worlds asunder from his harsh tone. Golden brows furrowed as they usually were, though unusually upturned just the slightest bit. You despised that look. It ensured that you’ll forever be caught in his grasp, forever there for him when he never spared you the time of day.

Your lungs constricted by a force of gorgeously wretched agony. Katsuki wasn’t fair when he bared his soul to you like this, it filled you with such fervent euphoria that torrefied its way through your being, singeing your veins with luminous infatuation. And it hurt. Because you knew he’d cage himself right up as soon as the moment of vulnerability perished.

A crystalline sheen permeated your vision. This wasn’t going to end well.  

“I said it’s nothing,” Your voice raised. You hadn’t meant for the words to be as frosty as they came out, but it seemed like your subconscious was utterly done with the tedium of heartbreak he keeps putting you through.

“What is fucking wrong with you? I was literally just asking why you were being so goddamn obnoxious today and then you go and make a big fuckin’ deal out of nothing!”

“Well, maybe I’m just fucking tired of giving you everything I have and getting nothing in return, Katsuki!”

Your chest rose and fell with each scalding breath that entered your lungs. The blood through your veins was pumping. Never had you been confrontational, and your sudden outburst wasn’t exactly welcome to your system. You wanted to vomit. This was not how you wanted things to turn out, you absolutely needed to leave, distance yourself from the emotional strain he was inflicting on you.  

Without taking notice of the panicked glint in the cherry red of his irises, you bolted out of the suddenly claustrophobic room, leaving Katsuki to stare at his agape door before flickering his unfocused attention to your supplies still laying on his bed.

Katsuki erupted time and time again, with you being as patient as a receiving end could ever be. It’s specifically because of your godly patience that he never considered what he would do once you erupted.

With your back sliding down your dorm room door, and little friction stopping your descent, you wondered and maybe even wished he’d call after you, come banging on your door with bristling apologies on the tip of his tongue. However, the jarring reality was very clear to you. You’d decided on that day, with your head buried in your tear-stained pillow, that these were the last tears you’d ever shed on him, that you were going to put him through the same wringing hell he’d put you through.

You were going to ignore Bakugo Katsuki’s existence just like he’d periodically ignored yours.

The following week had been bleak at best and excruciatingly bitter at its worst for the both of you. It was so strange having to adjust to the absence of the other, even if your company more often than not had been a quiet one, it was company nevertheless. The most grueling part though, was your shared friend group. They’d noticed that something was obviously awry, but since neither of you said a thing about it, they decided it would be best if they didn’t either. The awkward dead silences during lunch were still purgatory to behold. But after a few more slow paced days, the sun seemed to shine bright again. For you, that is.

You didn’t realize how much of your schedule revolved around Bakugo until he was completely out of it. How much time you spent with him, dreading him, thinking about him… him, him, him. He’d consumed your thoughts from the first sparks of dawn till the hallows of dusk. You had so much free time now that he was out of the picture, it was crazy. The more time you spent on yourself, on your hobbies, getting to know other classmates outside of your immediate friend circle, the duller the ache in your chest. Until it was but a static buzz. Yet you couldn’t deny that, with time, your fury had mellowed out, leaving behind a cold loneliness you couldn’t elude whenever your aimless stare landed on him, almost like it was drawn to him by muscle memory.

He was the exact opposite.

You’d think the throbbing within him whenever you finally gazed his way then instantaneously looked in the opposite direction would knock come modicum of sense into his stubborn head. But nope. And seeing you thrive without him only cemented what he already knew. He really was no good for you. So much so that it barely took anytime for you to readjust to the lack of him in your life, and not only did you adjust, you were the best he’s ever seen you both mentally and academically. In the first week of you ditching him completely, his bruised ego kept him for reaching out to you, but now, seeing that elated grin on your face –the one that had been gradually dwindling over the past few months– he didn’t want to take your newfound happiness away, he’d figured he’d done you more than enough harm already.

Heart heavy with reluctance, Katsuki made the decision to give up on your relationship. Deciding to wordlessly cheer you on from the sidelines and watch you bloom, flourishing into the person he robbed you of being for a chunk of your life, though whenever your spring hit, it would be without him. Until some day in the future where his pride wasn’t as suffocating, where he could genuinely, wholeheartedly repent his grievances and only hope for your forgiveness.

Kirishima never took Bakugo for a quitter, hell would freeze over before he even thought such a thing. So this was certainly a shock. What was even more shocking ­– and overwhelmingly concerning– was the fact that Katsuki had willingly, on his own accord confided in him, and he’d, in his own roundabout way, taken accountability for being a gigantic douche to you. As much as the redhead respected his friend’s decision to stay clear of you, he couldn’t help but wish you’d just talk to one another for once. Kirishima really was a saint, having to listen to two idiots ramble about how much they miss the other.

“Listen, man. I know you feel bad and all that, but maybe you should just talk to her? I’m sure she’d like some closure on this just as you do, even if that doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were.” Eijirou tried to reason, praying to whatever higher being out there that Katsuki would just get the fuck over himself and communicate with you.

“Fuck no. That’s not fucking happening, shitty hair,” Kirishima rolled his eyes at the oh so affectionate nickname, thoroughly done with his best friend’s melodrama. Welp, I guess there’s only one thing left to try. He heaved internally, mentally and physically preparing himself for Bakugo’s tantrum.

“Well, you know that if you won’t talk to her, others will, right? I heard some guys saying they’re gonna ask her ou–”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a rat’s ass who asks her out!” He definitely did. Eijirou hid his smile. Checkmate.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

Later that day, three distinctly powerful knocks woke you up. Needless to say, you didn’t think that night would end up with you and Katsuki staring each other down, seated on your bed at one in the morning. Words got stuck in his throat, so he just… noiselessly watched your face, as if trying to telepathically ram his constipated emotions into you, in hopes that you’d make sense of them. Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Did you come banging on my door at one in the morning just to stare at me, Bakugo? I mean I know I’m pretty but still–”

“Shuddup.” Not really the best thing to say to you after weeks of radio silence. You were about to make another salty remark, but he opened his mouth first.

“I fucked up,” The fact that he was acknowledging he was at fault was… something. But that wasn’t nearly enough to pay off the debt off turmoil he’d caused you.

“No shit.” You replied without missing a beat. The ice that tinged your words caught him off guard, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He sighed, knowing he’d have to strip himself of everything, including his pride (especially his pride) down to his very core, to have a go at a second chance.

And so, he did.

He poured his everything out for you to observe, without an ego film distorting his words. Syllables reeked of muted agony, he really had rid himself of anything and everything that wasn’t his deepest soul. He finally offered you himself just as you had done countless times before. Katsuki swore that his heart would –and always has been– explicitly yours, he’d roar that fact at the constellations above if you so wished him to. And while it would take a while to heal from coruscating blisters he’d inflicted, you were more than content mending and welting your heart with his.  

[anxious-allie-ren]

Miscalculation

Hey cuties! So, I have started writing fanfiction! I have been posting on both AO3 and Wattpad. Both links are in my linktree in my bio! But, I’d like to share my first one-shot here. Let me know what you all think!

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Let's be honest, The Finalizer is boring.

Not a, "Oh, it's a calm day with nothing to do, kind of boring." But more like, "I'm trapped on a steel death ship in the vacuum less mass of space" kind of boring.

Okay maybe that's because you are trapped. You have been trapped for what feels like months. In reality, it's been a few weeks and you're really close to going insane.

It was a small error that landed you here. A tiny miscalculation that landed you on the path of Snoke's little apprentice. Should you have double checked to make sure you had enough fuel to get back to D'Qar? Yes. Did you? No. Instead you waste your credits on some shitty fried food at the docking station on Coruscant and take off. This leaves you stranded on Jakku. Luck was clearly on your side that day because this was the exact day Snoke's dog sent his bitches out on a mission. There you are, in your X-Wing with what seems like the biggest bullseye on you.

It doesn't take them long to sniff you out. You're ripped out of the cockpit by a knight in an all black mask with long shields placed on either side. The knight drops you to the ground and you can immediately see you're outnumbered. Six large armored men have circled you. Okay, so the blaster you're pointing at the one who man-handled you probably wasn't going to do shit. But that doesn't stop you from holding your ground.

"I am not afraid to shoot. I will blast you all right now."

This earns a chuckle from the group. That first knight speaks up.

"You're stranded on this sand pile with no fuel. I doubt you have enough plasma to shoot half of us."

You huff at his comment but stand your ground, keeping the blaster pointed at him.

"Trudgen, just grab her and let's get back to the mission. Master can decide what to do with her."

You take note of that fucker's name as two of the other knights haul you up by your arms roughly. You're dragged to the ugliest ship you've ever seen in your life and thrown in a dingy compartment.

"We'll be back rebel scum. Don't try anything." Trudgen said as he placed your blaster on his belt. Not like he has enough weapons strapped to his body or anything. You roll your eyes and try to sit in a spot that isn't covered in dust.

"No promises."

And that's how you ended up on the Finalizer. You made the journey here hell for the knights. You did eventually learn the rest of their names after eavesdropping on their conversations. When you arrived Vicrul and Ap'lek placed your hands in binders and led you to an interrogation room. After you were strapped into the interrogation chair the knights made their way to leave.

"Uh, excuse me? Where the fuck are you guys going? You can't just strapped me in to this stupid chair, way too tightly might I add, and then leave without saying anything!"

Vicrul and Ap'lek share a look and then turn towards you.

"We aren't the ones interrogating you, scum. Master is interested in you." Vicrul says, shrugging his shoulders.

"I have no idea why. Not much to be interested in." Ap'lek mutters as he turns to leave again.

You rolled your eyes as both knights leave the room. So you would be getting the honor of meeting Snoke's apprentice. Wonderful. From what you learned being in the Resistance, Kylo Ren was an overgrown toddler with a laser sword. So the likelihood of you coming out of this interrogation alive was small.

You probably sit strapped to that stupid chair for hours before Commander Ren decides to stroll on in. He comes through the door swiftly, feet pounding on the ground loudly. He stops in front of you and gives you a quick once-over. The mask finally meets your eyes.

"Are we just going to stare at each other? Or are we going to get this over with?"

Kylo ball his hands into fists and begins to circle the interrogation chair.

"I don't think you are in any position to ask questions right now. What were you doing on Jakku?"

"Your little boy band didn't fill you in already? I got stranded on that shitty planet. Didn't exactly go there by choice."

He stops in front of you again.

"And why did you get stranded?"

You immediately think back to your little error. You feel even more stupid looking back on it. Admitting to it is not something you were looking to do right now. What the fuck was the point of this? Was he really just going to ask you trivial questions? You figured Snoke would have taught him better than this if he's really so powerful.

Kylo leans down quickly, grabbing the sides of the chair by your head. The sudden movement makes you jump, wrists smacking against the restraints.

"I can hear all of your thoughts. It would be wise to watch what you think. Now answer the question."

Of course he can hear your thoughts. He's a fucking force user. Rookie mistake on your part really. But the idea of him actually hearing every thought you think does unnerve you.

"I ran out of fuel. Had to make an emergency landing, okay? Is that answer good enough for you?"

Kylo finally leans back up. He stares down at you and even though he's wearing that stupid fucking mask you can just tell he's got a judgemental look on his face.

"What kind of pilot runs out of fuel?"

You begin to argue back but he stops you.

"Not a very good one. A good pilot would have checked that they had enough fuel to get to their next destination. A good pilot wouldn't have spent all of their credits."

"Listen you fu-"

"A good pilot would have landed near a fueling station, not in the middle of nowhere. But I guess that's my point. You aren't a good pilot. Another useless member of the Resistance. So breaking you down is going to be easier than I thought."

All you could do was stare at him. He read your thoughts. He already knew everything. He wanted to embarrass you, make you feel small. It worked for a second. But if you were going to die today, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing your embarrassment.

You square your jaw and look right into the eyes of his mask.

"That's where you're wrong, buddy."

Kylo leans down so his mouthpiece is by your ear and whispers, "We'll see about that, little one."

He stands back up and stomps out of the room quickly. Leaving you feeling shocked, angry, and oddly aroused.

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So to everyone's surprise you did not die that day. Instead Kylo had you placed in a cell and that's where you've been for weeks. Stormtroopers come and feed you or take you to a refresher to bathe. Commander Ren has stopped by a few times since your original meeting. Nothing much has come of those ones either. Mostly him staring at you and asking trivial questions. Which just agitates you.

You can't seem to figure him out. He hasn't asked anything regarding the Resistance. What is the point of keeping you prisoner if he isn't going to get any useful information from you? It doesn't sit well with you.

When he doesn't visit you're left alone. Staring at the same four walls does get boring eventually. You've taken to sitting near the door and trying to listen to the stormtroopers conversations. Sometimes bucket heads spill some interesting tea. You learned last week that General Hux once got a boner after getting choked by the Commander.

That's what you're doing currently. Listening to the chatter when you suddenly hear the distinct pounding of boots. The last you knew, the Commander was away on a mission with the knights. As the footsteps draw closer you move quickly to your feet and back away from the door. Kylo strides through the door, chest heaving and fists clenched. You can feel the anger rolling off of him. So you're guessing his little adventure didn't go so well.

His hand flies up quickly, using the force to choke you.

"How many times do I have to tell you to watch your thoughts?"

Okay, so he heard you. You really gotta work on monitoring that. Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of a toddler tantrum.

Just as the thought crosses your mind you're dragged across the floor towards Kylo. Your toes just barely touching the ground as you move. His hand wraps around your throat and he leans his masked face down into your own.

"I've given you far too many warnings. Now you're going to be punished."

Your eyes go wide as you look up into the soulless mask. This is it. This is where you die. You're going to die at the hands of this fucker and even worse, you're turned on.

Kylo spins you around and pins you to the wall. He kicks your feet apart using his boot, shoving his knee between your legs. You feel his thigh rub against your core. It takes all your self control to stop yourself from grinding down on it. He can feel the arousal pouring from your body.

He pulls his hand from your neck and leans back.

"I'm afraid you're enjoying this too much, little one."

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, to no prevail of course. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest. But the anger from this whole situation has begun to build. You're sick and tired of being in this cell. You're enraged by his trivial fucking questioning. And now, he's teasing you. You've had enough of it. You are not going to be his toy.

"I'm not enjoying anything. Im stuck in this stupid cell guarded by bucket heads. You've done nothing but ask me useless fucking questions. What is the point of this? Why keep me around if I have no use?"

You watch as he reaches up quickly and yanks the mask off. You weren't sure what you were expecting. But it wasn't that. When you imagined the Commander of the First Order, you pictured some burnt deformed old man. Not a hot ass guy with perfect fucking hair.

He throws the mask off to the side and glares down at you.

"You've certainly got a use and now you're going to fulfill it."

Suddenly, you feel the most glorious swirling against your clit. You gasp and try to squirm away from him. He pins you harder against the wall and begins kissing up your neck. You begin to feel the pressure building just as he starts to remove your shirt.

"Fuck, I don't know what you're doing. But don't stop." You pant out.

Just as the words leave your mouth the swirling stops.

"What the actual fuck?"

"You didn't think I'd just let you cum, did you? This is a punishment."

That is the final straw. You were so close to ecstasy. So close to release. You have had enough of this little twat. You collect yourself and use all the strength you can to push him away from you.

"Enough fucking games. I'm not some toy to be played with. Either show me the reason I'm still here or kill me already!"

Commander Ren is quick. If you weren't aware of his position, you'd think he was a bounty hunter with how fast he can move. So fast in fact, that he has you pinned face down on your shitty cot before you can think. You're bent over with your hands held in his fist behind you. You try to squirm but only end up grinding your ass back into him. Either that's his lightsaber or he's really excited to see you.

"Who is the general of the Resistance?"

The question catches you off guard. Why the fuck is he asking you his trivial questions now? Of all fucking times. He certainly knows the answer to this one, so what's the point of this?

You must have been stuck in your thoughts for too long, because a strong slap comes across your left ass cheek. The sound echoes throughout the tiny cell and you're certain the stormtroopers outside heard it.

"Answer the question."

"Uh, General Organa. She's your mom, right?"

Stupid response. He grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. He growls in your ear, "I would advise you shut the fuck up. Stop being a little brat and cooperate or this will only get worse."

Kylo releases your hair and holds you down with the force. He yanks down your pants, revealing your slick soaked panties to the room. Kylo looks down and smirks.

"You're drenched. Bent over and pussy wet for the enemy. What kind of pilot would do that?"

He lands another hard slap to your right cheek this time. Giving it a small kneed afterwards.

"Oh that's right. Not a very good one."

You try to move against the force hold but it's no use. He's got the upper hand here. But you're not going to let him degrade you like that.

"That's rich coming from Snoke's little bitch."

His fist is back in your hair and his other grabs your hip, pulling you back against him. He grinds himself into you and groans out, "You're going to regret that, little one."

Kylo pulls himself away enough to pull down your panties. You feel his gloved finger glide through your slick down to your bundle of nerves. You gasp and wiggle your hips back towards him trying to gain more friction.

"What is your squadron?"

Not this bullshit again. He's playing with your pussy and asking you these dumbass questions? He pulls his hand away and lands a slap to your pussy, causing your legs to shake.

"I hate repeating myself, so answer the fucking question."

Your head is spinning and your pussy is clenching around nothing. You have no clue what the point of these questions are but you'll do anything to get him to touch you again.

"Blue Squadron! Fuck."

Kylo's hand comes back to you, this time bare. He begins rubbing slow circles around your nub, applying the perfect amount of pressure.

"Now that's a good girl. Keep answering your Commander and you'll get rewarded."

"You're not my fucking commander." You gasp as he inserts two thick fingers into your needy hole. "My commander is Poe Dameron."

You realize what you've said after it's too late. It's not exactly classified information. But it's certainly not something you should be sharing with the enemy. You've got to get it together if you're going to make it through this little visit.

"Dameron, hm? Interesting."

You hear the sound of his belt buckle and zipper coming undone. He releases his long, girthy cock from the confines of his pants. It lands on your ass as Kylo grabs hold of both your hips.

"Are you ready for your punishment? I'm going to destroy this little cunt."

You arch your back, pushing your ass up. "I really doubt that. But you can try."

With our warning, Kylo buries his whole length in your wet heat. You gasp as he knocks the air out of your lungs, taking you by surprise. He begins thrusting into you at a slow pace, taking his time. You can feel every glorious inch of him, from tip to hilt.

You moan out and wiggle your hips, trying to get him to speed up. "If you're going to punish me, you'll have to try harder than this."

He snarls at your comment, squeezing your hips and picking up the pace. The little cell is filled with the sounds of your breathy moans, his grunts, and skin slapping. You get so lost in the pleasure you nearly miss him speaking to you.

"Where is the Resistance base?"

You almost answer. You almost let that information slide, forgetting where you are and whose cock is buried inside you. But then it all clicks. He's trying to distract you for information. Nice fucking try Commander Cunt.

"Fuck off."

Kylo grunts and releases one of your hips to instead grab a fistful of your hand. He yanks your head back and forces your back to arch further, making his cock reach deeper inside your pussy. Kylo begins pounding into you, each thrust hitting your sweet spot.

"Where the fuck is the Resistance base?"

Your moans are loud at this point. You couldn't care less about the stormtroopers outside hearing you. This all feels too good. But you aren't going to give in to him this easy. The resistance is counting on you. You are not some weak pilot that gives in to this moody bitch.

"Fuck. Off." You moan out in response.

Kylo's other hand leaves your hip and snakes down your front. He begins rubbing fast circles against your clit. You scream as you feel the pressure beginning to build again.

"Tell me where the fucking base is, pet."

You scream out in pleasure and frustration. You're so close. Just teetering on the edge. You so badly want to let go. So you crack.

"Fuck! Fine! D'Qar! The resistance base is on D'Qar! Please just let me come! Please!"

Kylo smirks, knowing he's won. He picks up the pace on your clit and groans out, "That's right, now be a good girl and cum all over my cock."

That was all you needed. You screamed in ecstasy, "Yes, fuck Kylo!"

Your pussy clenched around him as you came, your juices covering him. Kylo grunted, fucking you through your orgasm.

Soon after you came down from your high, you felt his cock twitch inside you. Kylo quickly pulled out of you and yanked you up by your hair.

"On your knees and mouth open, rebel bitch."

You quickly dropped to your knees and did just as he said, closing your eyes. Kylo pumped his cock over your face, using your slick and cum as lube. He threw his head back and let out a feral groan. Strings of his milky seed covering your face.

Once he was finished, you swallow what had gotten in your mouth and began wiping the rest off your face, licking it from your fingers. Fuck he tastes delicious. When you could finally open your eyes, he was already by the door. He had tucked himself away and put his glove back on. Kylo grabbed his helmet and looked back at you.

"Just as I thought. You're a useless Resistance member. So easy to destroy."

You sit there stunned by his words, letting everything that had just happened sink in.

"It has been fun breaking you, little one."

With one last look, Kylo places his helmet back on his head and walks out of the cell.

You stare at the door and replay his words. Maybe you were a shitty Resistance member. Others probably wouldn't have broken that easily, or at all. But with some of his cum drying on your face and a satisfied feeling, you can't find it in you to care.

You're secretly hoping Commander Ren needs more information. You might come to enjoy his little visits.

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I hope everyone enjoyed! If you all are interested, I can post on here more. Let me know!