#neither are slowed down or altered at all

[woundedheartwithin]

Kazama Kimichika: Kyojo Zero (2023)

[freshxsturniolo]

4th july pt2! - chris sturniolo x fem!reader

pt1 here

“that chris by any chance?” your best friend tara says as she finally jumps into bed. you’re staying the night at jake, johnnies and carringtons place and you’re wrapped tightly under the duvet in their spare room. tara has been running around still with the three boys, but as soon as your phone altered you to that first text, you’d excused yourself.

you smirk as you look at her and she gives you an eyebrow raise.

“i didn’t know you were talking to him like THAT” she says now. “when i saw him spinning you around in the pool i thought nothing of it until i saw his hands on your ass.”

a laugh escapes you, your head sinking into your pillow as tara leans forward to hold your arm, laughing with you.

“i’m serious” she choked out. “i didn’t say a thing to anyone thinking i’d leave you both to it until you started practically fucking in the pool”

“tara!” you squeal. “we weren’t fucking in the pool!”

she laughs, that signature tara yummy laugh, and then rolls her eyes. “okay maybe i was being dramatic there but, jesus, he looks like a good kisser”

you chuckle slightly, “he is.”

“you could have invited him back here ya know, jake wouldn’t have mind. i could have slept somewhere else”

you’re listening but sending across your last text to chris, butterflies in your stomach at the flirting once again that now felt much deeper before shutting your phone off and placing it under your pillow, turning round to face tara.

“he wants to take me for dinner tomorrow”

tara eyes go wide. “oh fuck. wait. so this is more than just -“

she stops as she doesn’t know how to explain it, but you know exactly what she means. yes, for now, this is defiantly more than a one night stand. at least, you secretly hope. his words of being respectful could all be a plot. you might have dinner tomorrow and realise that actually, you’d be better off as friends. but for now, entertaining a thought of something more with chris sturniolo was making you giddy.

“yeah. i think so” you confirm.

tara slaps her head back onto the pillow and looks up at the ceiling.

“you did look cute together, im not gonna lie”

you smile as your mind goes back to the party just a few hours ago. you’re still drunk now, but after you’d got out the pool the drinking slowed down.

you had stayed in the pool for only a short while after, your hair and make up completely ruined yet you didn’t have a care. outfit completely soaked through. but the entire time you couldn’t deattach your lips. it’s like all that flirting and lack of alone time together had bought a force over you that neither of you knew how to stop. but when you realised you were the only two in the pool, you pulled him out. hand in hand.

your friends had noticed by that point, and a few typical claps and cheers erupted from them, which in your drunken state had only made you laugh. as tara had suggested, no one knew you and chris were actually talking as much as you were and you knew everyone around you thought it was just a drunken kiss. but as the night went on and you both changed, jake nice enough to let chris raid his wardrobe for some comfier and none wet clothes, you changing into your overnight clothes you’d already bought, you couldn’t stay away from each other once more.

the party continued on behind you, but you stayed firmly close to chris. he’d thrown on a pair of black ed hardy shorts that jake had no intention of ever wearing and you were in your short pyjama bottoms, and at every single moment from then your skin was touching. it started as sitting back in the circle you left, legs crossed and knees touching. which led to the occasional arm touch as you laughed at each others jokes. that lead to you leaning into him as you got tired, to eventually sitting inbetween his legs, his chest as a back support as he lay his chin atop your head as you spoke to the people around you. his hands around your waist and your hands clasped against his.

when it was time to leave, you made him promise to text when he got home as you walking him to the front door, but it was only second before he was pushing you against the wall. his hands under your jaw as your kiss deepened, and at one point you where sure that actually, scrap the dinner, he was going to end up staying the night or taking you home, before he finally pulled away, a breathless “i’ll see you tomorrow” escaping his lip before he turned to meet his brothers in the car.

you had not felt this way in a long time. had never had a guy treat you like an actual human being and not just someone to get into bed. so yes, tomorrow couldn’t come quick enough. hangover or no hangover, you were excited to spend some time with him.

"do you like him?" tara says now, looking at you, and you give her a smile.

"its too early to say, isn't it?" you ask, and tara rolls her eyes.

"im assuming you agreed to dinner tomorrow?"

"yes"

she laughs. "so yes. you like him. when was the last time you went to dinner with somebody?"

and you're laughing too, because deep down you know that chris might most defiantly become more than just a few dates.

tagged : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss

[makethemmilky]

Amy and Liz had been best friends and roommates for years. They did practically everything together, and after a bit too much to drink one night that included both of them being impregnated by Liz’s boyfriend. It had all started innocently enough, with Liz talking about their plans to have kids after they were more settled, and after a few more drinks Amy confessing she’d always wanted to be a mom but feeling frustrated by not being able to meet the right guy. Alcohol certainly played a role, but there was also something primal in Liz that convinced her to encourage her boyfriend to fuck her best friend. Soon afterwards Liz was watching Amy bounce up and down on his cock while feeling the warmth of his seed inside her own cunt. In the drunken haze that followed nobody really remembered what happened, and neither girl realized that years of living together had left them ovulating at the same time. It was only around the time Liz went up a bra size and Amy couldn’t get her jeans to snap did they realize what had happened.

The hormones and the changes altering their bodies more and more each day left both women feeling hornier than they’d ever been before. Soon the comforting feeling each girl had of knowing the other was going through the same thing gave way to something harder and hotter. As their bellies began to dome and their nipples darkened the girls themselves found themselves reveling in the changes happening to themselves, the same changes they could see obviously occurring on the other’s body. Each girl could feel themselves become more beautiful and more desperate, and they could see the same thing happening to each other. For six months they resisted, but as they grew rounder and more beautifully feminine it became impossible to avoid each other.

One day they finally snapped. Liz had been staring at her swollen form in the mirror, marveling at the first drops of milk beginning to flow from her engorged tits, when Amy walked in, wearing only a flowing robe, one of the few items of clothing still comfortable in her expanded state.

"Look," Liz said, directing her friend’s gaze to the slow-moving drops emanating from her erect nipples.

“I can’t believe you’re making milk,” Amy said. “I’m not making any yet. How does it feel?”

“It feels,” Liz said, struggling to describe the sensation, “kind of good. Like there’s a pressure building inside of me that I need to let out?”

Amy immediately what her friend meant. For weeks she’d felt the same pressure bubbling inside of her, and she also knew exactly what she wished somebody would do about it.

“Would it helped if I…sucked some of out?”

Liz shuddered and she felt her nipples distend even further. For months she’d been feeling this feminine longing she couldn’t quite articulate and now, at this exact moment, she realized it was a longing to feed someone, anyone, her delicious milk.

“That would be, uh, nice,” Liz said before gingerly folding up her brown areola to her friend’s mouth.

In a moment six months’ worth of pentup libido came pouring out, with the two women pushing into each other passionately, their bulging bellies grinding into each other as each gasped at the newfound sensitivity of their rounded midsections. In the small remaining corner of her mind Amy compared how similar, and yet how different Liz’s altered body was to her own. Amy carried her bump higher and it was even a little bigger than her own, while Liz’s breasts, originally the smaller of two, had grown significantly with milk and now far surpassed he friend’s. Even if she didn’t yet have milk of her own, Liz was sure that Amy’s sensitive dark nubs would enjoy playing with just as much as her own. Instinctively each girl grabbed their growing tits and pressed them against each other, the sensation of rock-hard nipples caressing darkened, ultra-sensitive areolae.

Liz had never gone down on another woman before. But having felt her own body change over the past months she knew exactly where and how Amy would want to be touched. Even as she lowered her tongue to Amy’s pronounced clit she could feel her own body pulsing with the need to be sucked and fucked. For well over an hour the two preggos went at it, coaxing countless orgasms out of bodies that seemed capable of producing more and stronger ones than they’d ever previously felt before. By the end they lay collapsed on the couch, gently stroking each other’s bellies and marveling at the changes to both themselves and their relationship.

They understood each other, and each others’ changing bodies, better than anybody else ever could. Right there they decided they would raise their children together and make sure they both produced many more by staying heavy and round with child together. Still, as connected as they now were, both realized they loved the feeling of being bred by a hard cock, and if they wanted to fulfill their dreams of staying pregnant forever they would need a consistent source of seed.

Luckily Amy had a plan. When he returned home Liz’s boyfriend would be in for a shock when he learned that there were now two women wanting to kept full of his babies at all times.

[etherealising]

chapter eleven | flowers filled with dew

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing(s): carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you and carmen have a long awaited heart felt conversation about a life the two of you could’ve shared…if only times were different.

warning(s): implied miscarriage | off-page miscarriage | talk of miscarriage | non-explicit description of miscarriages | moon cycles | grief | sadness | angst | ooc carmy | these losers finally communicating | minimal editing please give me grace | probably more idk sorry warnings |

wc: 4.9k

Neither of you say a word. You’re both tucked under the covers like two children preparing to tell each other ghost stories, a position you’ve surely been in with Carmen before. It's quiet, all to be heard are the soft breaths, the two of you exchange Carmy’s familiar scent of nicotine and the kitchen mixed with your signature body wash delicately dances across your senses.

You watch him as he watches you. It's been silent between the two of you since the shower you shared, each of you tenderly helping the other dress afterward. The revelation of the night felt as though it sucked out any remaining energy either of you had left.

The blue of his eyes was easy to get lost in. The sadness pulls you into the depths of his doe-like baby blues, the length of his lashes delicately brushing his skin with every flutter of his eyes. It was slow, the way your hand reached up to softly trace the bruising color on his cheekbone that juxtaposed the soft hue of his iris. Thumb carefully running back and forth over the bruise he received mere hours ago. You weren’t sure what time it was, but the fact that everything happened in 24 hours didn’t feel real to you.

“Do you hate me, Carmen?” The whisper was rough, and the sobs paired with the lack of speech made your voice sound raw like you’d unintentionally swallowed sandpaper.

Your eyes found his once more following the widening of his pupils, the brush of his lashes against your thumb still lavishing his cheek. You were unsure if he heard you, and that was okay, you didn’t think you’d be able to stomach his answer if it was unsavory.

“No.” It was firm, his answer; almost immediate. He heard you loud and clear his heart skipping a beat at the silly question you’d dare to let leave your lips in his presence. He could feel his breathing begin to pick up as he prepared to ask his question. A shiver raced through him as your hand gently slid down his cheek, tracing a path down his neck before landing on his heart, the gesture distracting him enough to get his breathing as controlled as he could at that moment.

It felt second nature as his hand came up to cover yours in its place over his heart, squeezing it slightly as if doing so would sink your hand into his chest and allow you to grip his heart in the way you’d been unknowingly doing all these years. Carmy watched you for a moment, tracing how sunken your eyes were, your face that mere hours ago shone in happiness and radiance now looked sullen, as though the life was being sucked out of you in real-time. He felt the urge to leave his questions unanswered, to continue re-learning your face until the ground decided it was time for him to leave this earth. But Carmen also needed to know, this secret part of him wanted to understand why you deemed him so undeserving of sharing in such a life-altering loss.

Maybe this was his comeuppance.

Carmy cleared his throat finally prepared to know you, “How…wha-.” He had to stop himself, the blockade in his throat fighting his every instinct to question you. He could feel his eyes water as the burn in his throat traveled to his chest, the never-ending ache that rented space there grew heavier by the minute, his mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he swore words were leaving his mouth but no sound was.

“Shh, hey.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at you as his hand squeezed yours tighter, blunt nails digging into your soft flesh. It was like the harder he tried to fight through the pressure in his chest the worse it became, his vision so blurry that your face became a mosaic of the features he so easily recognized anywhere. The shaking began unconsciously as your forehead rested against his, that ache he was so familiar with felt like it became deeper by the second as he tried to get himself to calm down.

“Shh, it's okay to let them happen sometimes, Carm.” He wanted to believe you, his head softly nodding against yours as though the movement would tell his brain that it was okay to sink into this feeling and it wouldn’t result in destructive behavior. “You’re safe with me Bear.”

The caress of your voice traveling through his ears awoke something in him, something he desperately searched for through childhood; to be allowed the chance to bask in his emotions without having to compensate for those of the people he loved. The gasping breath he let out was mixed with a sob of pain as the tightness in his chest felt like it would consume him at any moment. He thought he’d gotten everything out in the shower while the two of you were wrapped around each other feeding off the shared hurt. But this was something he needed, to allow himself to feel every warring emotion in his body no matter how uncomfortable it was; to feel safe while doing so, to know that there was somebody who cared for him and watched over him as he let the anxiety crescendo and run rampant through his veins.

Carmen needed this moment to understand just how valid his emotions were. And to know that someone cared enough for him to stick by his side as he allowed himself to safely express them. Carmen needed this, he needed to feel safe.

“Why?” Your eyes blearily opened at the warmth of Carmy’s breath against your neck, the husk of his voice in your ear. Somewhere between comforting Carmy through his panic attack and the two of you falling asleep once more, the position the two of you were in changed. You could feel his broad chest pressed into your back, the warmth of his body providing you a comfort you longed for but never allowed yourself the chance to have.

It was silent as Carmen’s arm moved from its place resting against your hip, his calloused digits carefully tracing over the exposed skin on your leg before finding its way under your shirt and shakily stopping above the skin of your stomach. The tremors continued uncontrollably as you could feel the presence of his hand hovering over their destination, the hesitation easily noticeable through the flexing of his forearm against your waist. You took the chance to lay your hand flatly atop his, guiding them to the warm soft flesh of your abdomen as Carmy’s sharp intake of breath reached your ears.

The response you felt was immediate, the tears filled your eyes as you basked in the comfort you longed to feel a year ago, but decided you were undeserving of it. You bit your lip to stop the tears from falling, hoping that your sniffles were quiet enough to slip past Carmy’s detection. It didn’t matter though, the trembling of your body gave everything away. The man rubbed soothing circles into your stomach a way for him to let you know that although you were alone in that moment, he was here now; and as much as his fear of the unknown screamed at him to run, he wasn’t going anywhere.

A tear escaped at the feel of Carmen’s warm chapped lips pressing into the exposed skin of your shoulder blade, the gesture left behind a heat you were sure you’d never forget. Carmen allowed you the moment to collect yourself, “Why?” He couldn’t get himself to say more, and you didn’t need him to as his fingers gently tapped against your stomach.

“I-,” you took a calming breath, wanting to answer any of Carmy’s questions as best as you could. “I didn’t know until it was too late.” The last word left your lips in a broken whisper, there was no conviction behind them just a sadness and pain and Carmy swore he could feel every essence of your emotions bleeding into him.

His thumb gently traced across your abdomen hoping to provide comfort in whatever way he could as you recounted such a horrid memory. “Everything was fine when I returned to Chicago… at least I assumed things were. My uh cycle came at the end of March and that was that.”

You gently traced the tendons of his fingers that rested against you, reminding yourself that you were no longer alone, “And then it was April and it should’ve been my last week in Chicago. I was uh staying with your moms by that point, keeping house…keeping her company. Natalie needed a break and I thought the least I could do before leaving was make sure the one parental figure still in my life was surviving.”

Carmen’s hand flexed against your stomach as he instinctively pulled you further into him, somehow hoping that if he wrapped his body around yours it would lessen the pain of your words. He felt guilty listening to the way you cared for his flesh and blood in their time of need more than he did.

“When I wasn’t with Donna, I was at The Beef…helping Richie. And I felt like it was what I needed to do, you know? Richie had his shit going on with the divorce and everything and if I could help out where I could then I would.” The longer Carmy listened to you the more he was beginning to unveil the person you grew into, he came to the silent conclusion that you had a problem with putting other's lives and wellbeing before your own.

You turned in Carmy’s arms needing to not only feel him but see him as well, it wouldn’t make things any easier, but you felt he was deserving of your full attention at this moment. “I remember feeling so lethargic that day, that I just assumed it was all the stress of trying to take care of everyone else getting to me. And it was the lunch rush, and things were so hectic I just needed to take a beat, you know get my mind right.” You held Carmy’s attention, keeping an eye out for any signs that it was all becoming too much for him and that a break was necessary.

A blush rose to the man's cheeks as he realized what you were doing, embarrassment flooding through him that even now as you were recounting this moment to him, you so desperately put him first. “I uh chose the walk-in of all places…I was having the worst cramps and felt like I was going to pass out at any moment. Richie came barging in and we locked eyes and it's like we just knew something wasn’t right.”

A small joyless laugh escaped you as you thought back to Richie’s antics while you were getting checked in at the hospital, “I remember the nurses tried to kick Richie out of the room for the tests they needed to perform but he convinced them we were married.” You listened to the soft watery chuckle escape from Carmy, “I don’t know why he didn’t just say I was like his adopted sister or something.” A sadness not even the softness in Carmy’s eyes could cure stirred in your chest as you thought back on a moment in time you had no idea would mentally and physically impact you as greatly as it did.

“Imagine our surprise when the doctor came back with monotone apologies for our loss, but not to worry because if we ever wanted to try again for a baby the chances of another miscarriage were slim, but I’d better beat my biological clock before it beat me.” It was getting harder and harder to continue explaining as the memories began resurfacing with your words.

Carmen was unsure what to do with the information you’d just given him, to know that it was Richie by your side while you were given such heart-wrenching news drew him back to his moment with Richie in the walk-in. The venom in the older man’s words as he yelled about keeping the Berzattos together when Carmy couldn’t find it in himself to do so; he hadn’t realized it applied to you too.

“And I-I was so confused. I didn’t understand or I don’t think I wanted to understand. And god do I love Richie but he swore up and down that they’d mixed my results up with someone else’s 'cause there’s no way I was pregnant.” The rough feeling on Carmen’s thumbs carefully collecting the now free-flowing tears that raced down your face made you cry even harder, your eyes moving from their position over his shoulder to find his gaze, his eyes full to the brim with unshed tears.

You took the moment to gaze at the man in front of you, to appreciate having him here with you “We uh…we argued after I told him about us…me and you,” you watched the frown decorate his face “He never outright said it but I…I think he was disappointed in me.”

Carmen allowed your words to sink into him, that familiar ache waiting just around the corner as he came to terms with the reality of everything. He should’ve been there by your side, the decision to not use protection wasn’t yours alone, and it shouldn’t have been your burden alone to carry the consequences of that decision.

“You uh…why didn’t you call me?” His hands dropped from your face the longer he allowed himself to think about everything. “Didn’t I have a right to know?” The soft broken timbre shot through you, the hurt on his face made you feel worse than you already did.

You couldn’t help but feel selfish as you realized what exactly you had stolen from Carmen by not confiding in him about something that was just as much yours to experience as it was his. “Your life was in New York Carm, you built something great there and I felt like I’d already taken so much from you…who was I to take even more. I-I thought it was for the best…I wanted to prote-”

“And who are you to decide what’s best for me?” The newfound irritation in his voice wasn’t lost on you, nor was the way his eyebrows pinched together in that way that told you he was beginning to feel frustrated.

You sat up, eyes following Carmen’s as he hastily rolled out of the bed, his figure quickly pacing in front of your bed. “Carm, you have to understand-,”

“You were pregnant Baby!” He regretted the broken yell as soon as he saw you flinch, but the excuses you were giving him felt like bullshit. It was like Mikey all over again deciding for him that he couldn’t work at The Beef, and now this, you decided he was better off never knowing that the two of you almost created a family together. And he was beginning to get tired of people making decisions on his behalf.

“And weeks before I was pregnant I was just some quick fuck you couldn’t even bother to call to make sure I made it home safe!” It was unfair, you knew it was, considering the context of this conversation the argument you were making didn’t even have two legs to stand on.

Carmy recoiled into himself almost immediately as he listened to the hurt and anger in your words. “I never told you to leave…I-I didn’t want you to leave.”

“You never asked me to stay either Carm.” You let out a small sigh, no matter what either of you said it wouldn’t change the past; the damage was done.

The room fell silent, Carmy’s chest heaved up and down from his position standing in front of you while you sat propped on your knees in the bed trying to corral all the pent-up emotions this conversation drew out of you. The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the anger and hurt shared between the both of you. You weren’t sure how the conversation took such a sour turn but the longer you sat there watching Carmy you began to understand the root of his frustration, you kept something that negatively impacted the both of you from him and yet here you were allowing the shame you felt to convince you lying to him was for the best.

“I’m sorry I just…I blamed myself.” You sagged into yourself, the anger gone just as quickly as it appeared as you looked at Carmen, your bottom lip trembling. “You are the only person I wanted around me when I found out,” you bit your lip to try and control the trembling, the slick feeling of snot and tears all over your face. “But I just couldn’t bring myself to call you. We just lost Mikey and I told myself you wouldn’t be able to handle it…but the truth is I couldn’t handle it and by keeping it from you I was able to ignore the truth of it all.” Your head throbbed as you offered up the only pathetic explanation you had for the reason the two of you were in this situation now, allowing the hurt to disguise itself as anger. Self-sabotaging the relationship you both wanted so desperately to repair.

“Carmen I,” you let loose a deep breath knowing what you were about to admit didn’t justify keeping Carmy in the dark but he deserved your honesty. “I love you too much to ever force an experience like that upon you. And I know it was wrong of me to decide for you bu-,” the feeling of Carmy’s firm arms wrapping around you cut off your sentence a small whimper escaped at the tight almost painful grip he held you in. The soft press of his lips against your head and soothing whispers caused you to collapse into his hold.

You dug your hands into the borrowed shirt he was wearing, holding onto the fabric for dear life as you admitted your failures to Carmen, unsure how he could even stand to be in the same room as you. “Shh, shh I’ve got you.” The soft words and warm embrace were something you longed for from Carmen and it was no one's fault but your own that it had taken so long to get here.

Morning dew clung to the flowers that decorated the small garden in your backyard. The tiny blue bulbs of the flowers were beginning to overpopulate the garden, the invasive species of the plant doing what it did best. Carmen wasn’t sure how long he stared at the flowers, but it was long enough that the cold air of the morning felt like it was beginning to sink into his bones.

He frantically tapped the mostly empty cigarette carton against his thigh, trying to catch up with the thoughts racing through his mind. The exhaustion was creeping in on him, no matter how hard he tried to force himself to find sleep after he held you crying in his arms, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how alone you were in the past year. He hoped that if he looked at you long enough the words you shared with him would somehow become digestible. Carmen spent the night watching as you slept on his chest only removing himself from under you when he could no longer quiet the voices in his head telling him that he deserved to be left in the dark, that he didn’t deserve to know this part of you or imagine how different life would be if there was a little life that depended on him; on you.

The anxiety quelled for a bit as he laid in bed with you, but now that he was alone that part of him that urged him to run, to disappear before you woke up because surely this wasn’t reality. If he left now the truth of the matter wouldn’t be able to follow after him, but he knew this wasn’t a problem he could shove to the back of his mind, he wouldn’t be able to use the chaos of the kitchen to forget any of the memories you shared with him.

An exhausted sigh escaped his lips as he finally pulled a cigarette from the carton, hand digging around in his pocket for a lighter only to realize he’d left it in his pants pocket before venturing outside. The sound of a door opening and closing drew his attention, he watched as you exited the house in your pajamas approaching him with eyes that looked as tired as he felt.

You held out a lighter in offering to him, his eyes darting towards it before finding your eyes once more sure you spotted him wallowing back here through your bedroom window. His hand gently reached out to take it from your grip, a small nod in thanks sent your way before he turned back to the flowers and lit the cigarette. He took a deep breath of the vapors watching from his peripheral as you squatted next to him, your arm brushing against his leg as you settled into the position.

Carmy watched you as your eyes traced over the flowers every bit of exhaustion he was feeling could easily be read on your face. He took another drag of his cigarette before extending it to you, a gesture he was sure he’d never pull but times were different now, that much was obvious.

You shook your head rejecting his offer, “It's stupid, but I…um I don’t like to smoke in front of the flowers.” Carmen followed your hand as it reached out to delicately trace over the petals of a nearby flower, your voice scratchy, raw from the sobs you shared last night.

He felt like an asshole, “Shit, I uh didn��t know.” He quickly snuffed the bud out, holding it in his hand to not litter near a garden that held importance to you.

“How could you?” You finally graced him with a look, a small sad smile lining your lips as Carmy found himself being sucked into the depths of your lifeless eyes.

He felt the ache in his chest returning the longer he held your eye. It was obvious that even just the reminder of everything had already taken such a toll on you, how could he even part his lips to ask you for an explanation of the flowers when you looked like you had just re-lived one of the worst moments of your life?

Carmy cleared his throat, eyes moving back to the flowers, “Why?” There was a moment of silence as he awaited your response, doubt filling him at every moment without any words between the two of you. “Why uh…why don’t you smoke in front of the flowers?” He raised his hand to scratch at the back of his neck the familiar sense of unsurety racing through him.

“Hmm?” Carmy watched as the side of your mouth ticked up, the knowing smile that usually followed that gesture was nowhere to be found as your lips fell back into a melancholic line. “Forget me nots are said to symbolize a few things a lot of people correlate them with true love. There’s a folktale about a man who picked these flowers for his lover by the river bank, sadly though he slips in and as the current carries him away, his last words to his lover are forget me not. ” Carmy listened intently to your words, his hand finding your initial pendant that set warmly against his upper chest. “But others used them as a sign of remembrance, to never forget those lost to time. These flowers…they’re a reminder for me of Mikey. Of…” Carmen could hear the heaviness in your voice as you spoke a lump forming in his throat at the words left unsaid.

He watched as you quickly wiped away the stray tear to escape your eye, his heart silently breaking at how much of a shell of your old self you appeared to be at that moment. He thought back to the letters he knew it was essentially an invasion of privacy for him to read them, they weren’t for him. But he couldn’t help but wonder, is this how you looked while writing them? Downtrodden and desolate, like just the act of breathing alone would confine you to dark weeks in bed with no will to move.

Carmen’s hand gently reached out to settle against your shoulder, hoping you could feel the comfort he was trying to exude through the gesture. He watched as your hand reached up to delicately grip his, lips pressing into his fingers before your head delicately settled against his hand.

“It was wrong of me to keep this from you Carmen, and I understand if you’re angry with me and want nothing to do with me. But please don’t be upset with Richie, or Nat. All they were doing was respecting my decision.” Carmy listened as you played with his fingers, his itching to grip yours.

An exhausted sigh left you, something you appeared to be doing more recently, “ I know it doesn’t mean anything now, but I do wish I told you when everything happened.” Carmy’s warm body joining you in the wet grass caused you to stop, his hand that was once on your shoulder moved to wrap around your waist softly pulling you into his chest, the warmth and comfort radiating from his body was almost immediate. “As selfish as it sounds there’s a part of me that’s holding out hope you’ll forgive me for all the secrets I’ve kept.” You wanted to cry as you felt the gentle press of Carmy’s lips against the side of your head. The gesture made you emotional.

You could feel Carmy’s heartbeat through the position the two of you were in, you hoped the rhythmic beating of it would imprint itself in your brain in case this was the last moment you ever got with the man. “I uh..,” you waited hand hesitantly intertwining with Carmy’s as a way to let him know that you were receptive to everything he needed to say. “I am upset…I uh n-not with you just the situation.” He paused hoping to gather his thoughts.

“I think…uh we hadn’t seen each other in years and uh when we did…” You listened to his voice trail off sure a red blush was making its way up his neck as he tiptoed around the night the two of you spent together. “Just I understand why you didn’t tell me, I didn’t make things easy…and I told you I couldn’t commit to you.” Carmy cleared his throat, sure you felt just as uncomfortable as he did as you listened to him speak, he was thankful he wasn’t looking at you though because he couldn’t guarantee he’d get any words out if he did.

“I just…I wish you felt comfortable enough to call me…a-and I know I should’ve called you but Baby you shouldn’t have gone through it alone.” It was quiet for a moment as the two of you sat there basking in each other’s confessions and the gentle breeze of the morning.

You turned to face Carmen, his arm dropping from your waist as you rose to your knees studying his face. A million scenarios ran through your head as you thought of what could’ve been…what never was, it did no one any good envisioning a life that was no longer theirs to claim, but who were you to deny yourself a daydream or two? A small trembling smile rose to your face as you took in every feature of Carmy’s you would’ve loved to see on a tiny human.

“I wish you would’ve called.” Between the trembling of your lips and the quiet of your voice, it was a miracle the five words reached Carmen’s ears.

He rose to your level in an instant watching as tears began to escape your eyes, but he found himself drawn to the small genuine smile that sat atop your lips, the gesture confused him as he couldn’t understand how you found the strength to give him a smile amid everything. He gently wrapped his arms around you bringing you into his chest before placing multiple kisses against the top of your head as your face pressed into his chest listening to his heartbeat once again.

Carmy wished he called as well.

a/n: didn’t mean to go m.i.a just in a bit of a life slump. this chapter gave me major writer’s block and i just stopped enjoying the writing process all together so updates may become less enthusiastic idk we’ll see. on another note i have a new idea for another series so that’s fun i guess, anyway hope you enjoy this chapter for what it is. i hope you’re all doing well, happy new year! 🫶🏽🤍

[pricegouge]

*rattling the bars of my cage* PISS! PISS! PISS! PISS! PISS!

keep misbehaving i'll keep you in that cage until you make a mess

cw: piss/human urinal. fem reader

>>you drink enough water today hen?

<<Johnny, enough

where the question used to make you giddy with excitement, overcome with feelings about a partner who ensures your overall wellness, it only serves to make you squirm now - the two sided agony of the promise of life altering orgasms and embarrassment like you've never known before Johnny infiltrating your being on a nearly molecular level. On the one hand, you can tell him yes and be expected to prove it by the end of the night, or you can admit you haven't and await whatever punishment Johnny sees fit for such a grievous mistake. Neither option is particularly appealing.

>>that's a no then isn't it?

***

The funnel was your idea, an attempt to not make a mess. Johnny ruins your plan in seconds, his hot piss overflowing the shallow tunnel quickly because your cunt won't loosen enough to accept the load. It sloshes over the edge of the instrument, coats your belly and slickens your skin. "It's not going down?" you ask stupidly, and Johnny sticks his finger into the nozzle of the funnel, working you open through the silicone.

"Is now."

***

You leak like a sieve when he fucks you, gushing all over his hairy thighs despite the fact he hasn't made you cum even once tonight. It's too hot and thin to be mistaken for your own slick but that doesn't stop Johnny, his hips pistoning into you like you're the most welcoming thing he's ever had. 

"Squirtin' like a fockin' whore," he grits, and the sight of the tendons in his neck jumping makes you clench regrettably, yet more mess splashing across his tummy. He grunts as if shot, thick hand planting on the bed next to you as he fucks into you twice more, movements becoming slow and sporadic until he finally stalls. 

"Don't you fucking dare," you hiss, but it's too late, yet more warmth filling you until you're fit to burst, flowing over onto the ticklish cords of your abductors. Jonny's thumbs dig in there, your reflexes making you open impossibly wider for him. 

"Shit, hen," he grits, burying himself to the hilt. "So fockin' wet."

"Ye gonna squirt on me?" He asks, Adam's apple jumping under the scruff of his throat.

You're are, is the worst part, your own slick beginning to combine with his piss, reducing you to nothing more than a wet hole for him to fuck. The sound of his hips slapping into yours is bad - the smell worse - but still, somehow, between the way he pinches your clit and the way his cock manages to reach the very end of you, aided as it is by the slickness you've both built, you feel on the verge of shaking apart anyway; do so when you feel his fingers against your rim, know he's gripping the base of himself so tight and low he has his balls clenched in his fist as well, anything to draw it out one more moment. 

You shake your head, adamant. He places the flat of his heavy palm on your belly, insistent.

"O'course ye are, hen. Let me see it."

And so you do, unable to deny him anything when his cock feels that good. He fucks you through it, wet splash as you cum against his hairy belly deflecting back onto you. You hardly even notice it, hot spend blending with the layer that's already drying on your skin, thin and tacky. Johnny slicks his hand through the mess, collects the thin spend onto his thumb and circles your clit with a callused finger, pulling you through one last orgasm as he finishes himself off, cumming so deep inside you the piss that still leaks from you runs clear for another hour before turning milky.

[fallow-hollow]

Aaa! Your Kabru x reader was really nice! May I request a Holm x Reader where the reader helps him when he freezes up in rapid situations?

pick-me-up

…ft! holm kranom x gn! reader

…tags! pre-relationship, fluff, a little banter, reader knows some magic, some magic lore i may or may not have made up

…word count! 1167

…notes! people who are madly in love with side characters are truly god’s strongest soldiers. i hope i characterized your man correctly!!

As close as you and Holm were, neither of you really seemed to idealize one another too much. Being in the dungeon, you had to be aware of all your teammates’ strengths and flaws, regardless of personal opinion. When it came to the gnome you called your closest friend, even he didn’t deny it — he did not operate well under pressure.

Considering that you were in a place where foes could ambush you at any moment, anybody could see why this wasn’t a great quality to have. From being unable to save your friends to even being unable to save yourself, there were a lot of potential consequences to locking in place during the middle of combat. Something had to be done about it sooner rather than later, and if he had to ask someone, he’d rather it be you than anybody else.

The plan was formulated during some downtime the party had — something to stop Holm from going stock still whenever he felt overwhelmed. Luckily, your companion already had an idea for you.

“I figure the easiest way to deal with this’ll be using magic.”

You nodded. Not much of an obstacle, since you already had at least a few spells under your belt.

“As long as you have a rudimentary understanding of magic, it’s not gonna be too hard to get down.” For a moment, the gnome deliberated, wondering how to explain the concept to you. “You know how healing magic can hurt sometimes?”

With a grimace, you shook your head in understanding. Rin and Holm were pretty good about that sort of thing, but there had been more than a few occasions in past parties where healing and injury hurt even more than obtaining it. Seeing that you were familiar with what he was saying, the man continued.

“Well, that’s actually how healing magic is by default. When it doesn’t hurt, that’s because the caster is using a separate spell to numb your sensations.” As you listened, your mouth formed a little ‘o’ shape to show your interest. “Naturally, you can alter people’s sensations with magic in other ways, too.”

“Oh,” you would interject, “so I could use magic to make you more….focused?”

“Not quite, but yes.” At your approximation, he held up his index finger. “I was thinking you could use just a little bit of mana to sort of perk me up, almost like a spike of adrenaline to set me back in motion again.” His hand then lowered, turning over so his palm faced upward. “It’s pretty simple, just transferring mana through touch like you would with a healing spell.”

“I can do that, no problem!”

Ah, he was still looking at you, even after you said that… was there still more he wanted to share? When your eyes wandered down to the hand he held out, embarrassment that you hadn’t realized sooner quickly washed over you.

“Ah, you wanted to practice?” At first, you feared that your slow uptake had caused Holm some annoyance, but the relaxed smile on his face didn’t give way in the slightest. He seemed almost amused, really.

“Guess I should have been more clear about that, huh?”

The smirk on his face let you know that the question was most certainly rhetorical. Answering it would have been a moot point anyway, so instead you pouted and mumbled, “You’re always so snarky with me… not fair.”

Transferring mana was something you were fairly familiar with doing, so you were able to take the gnome’s hand into two of your own with little hesitation. Back when you’d just joined the party, the act of touching him made your cheeks heat up, but exposure to it over time had made the experience far from unfamiliar.

Just remember to envision the flow of the mana, you reminded yourself. Truly feel it, from your head to your toes, through your veins and bones, and out the tips of your fingers. Feel the current connecting you to him…

With your eyes trained on your joined hands, half lidded while you chanted the spell as instructed, you hardly noticed the way your companion’s ears actually twitched and perked up when the incantation was completed. Only when his whole body jolted did you shoot up in turn, concern pooling in your irises.

Said concern seemed to be unneeded, judging from the pleased look on his face. It was one that brought you relief, not just from the knowledge that you’d done well, but from the sight of him alone.

“That’s good, I think you’ve got it.” Even his voice seemed cheerier than before, and you weren’t quite sure if it was from the magic, your success, or both. Nonetheless, it was kind of nice to see his usually laid back demeanor become more enthusiastic from time to time. “So remember, the next time I get stunned in an overwhelming situation, use that if you’re near.”

“Of course!” You grinned, knowing you’d always be neat if you could help it.

That little practice session with Holm had been a few days ago by now. It took quite a while for a situation to actually arise that called for your little backup plan, but you most certainly kept your word.

Perhaps if it was just one stray suit of living armor, Rin or even Daya would’ve been able to dispatch it just fine. But in a whole hallway full of them with no way around, you could only tiptoe past them in hopes that maybe they’d ignore you, or even end up just being normal suits of armor. You should’ve known, of course, that the dungeon is no place for wishful thinking.

When the intimidating armored figures inevitably sprung to life, the first thing you did was look to Holm. Unsurprisingly, he was completely still by your side, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open while he didn’t even shake or quiver.

Just do what you talked about. Transfer the mana as quickly as you can. You may have taken the latter half of that a bit too seriously judging by how, instead of taking his hand like you had during practice, you immediately reached for his face instead.

Only halfway through chanting the spell did you notice the slight tint on his cheeks, likely from embarrassment, and it took everything you had in you to continue the spell without stuttering from your own flustered state. After all, restarting the spell would take even longer, and that was pretty much the exact opposite of what was needed right now.

The second the spell had been completed, the both of you pulled away from one another, invigorated by both magic and embarrassment respectively. You heard Holm utter a quick thanks to you, but you were too busy feeling completely mortified by the way Kabru had just glanced at the two of you, seemingly more entranced by your interaction than the imminent peril you were dealing with.

You’d never hear the end of this, would you?

[munsonomenon]

⛧☾༺’Casual’༻☽⛧

Chapter II: Call It What You Want

⛧ pairing: rockstar! eddie x alt! fem reader

⛧ contains: angst, fluff, pining, slow burn, fwb

⛧ word count: 3.4k

⛧ previous chapter: here

⛧ warnings: allusions to smut ! mdni !

“Ugh, Robin I just don’t know, neither of these feels right.” You groan with your voice full of frustration, standing in front of your full-length mirror glaring at your reflection knowing you’re running out of time to make a decision. You have a hanger in either hand. Both are holding up two almost identical long black gowns, at least to Robin who never cared too much about these kinds of things. You take turns switching between the two comparing how the fabrics would compliment your silhouette.

Robin is sitting on the corner of your bed on the opposite side of the small room, sitting up on her elbows as she giggles quietly. “I don’t understand, you know you’re gonna look good in either of them. Just flip a coin or something.” She says with a caseous smile knowing that it’s not the response you’re looking for. You’ve changed your mind on what would fit your persona best almost every day this week. It took Robin only ten minutes in the men’s section of the local thrift store the two of you frequented, so you’re sure at this point she’s heard all but enough of your ranting.

“This isn’t a decision a coin can make, Robin! I’m ‘Elvira, Mistress Of The Darkness’. I need to be tantalizing!” You say dramatically with your voice low dragging out the end of your words, holding both arms out. Robin sits up laughing at you, turning to grab one of your throw pillows and hurls it towards your direction. “You are absolutely ridiculous.” She half-way shouts at you, letting another laugh slip through her words. You bend down to reach the pillow before sloppily tossing it back at her chest. She grabs onto it and holds it in her lap. “It’s only one night. I can almost guarantee you this isn’t an end-of-the-world, life-altering decision.” You roll your eyes, sighing at how relaxed Robin can be about every situation. “Okay, Fine! You be the coin then,” you state. “Heads… or tails.” switching between the two dresses hovering in front of your frame.

Robin has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, specifically since your seventh-grade band class. You two have seen each other’s endless cringe phases, every heartbreak the other had endured, and nursed each other back to health after more nights out than you can count. You’ve always thought she was the one person who truly knew you inside and out. Moving in together over the last summer really solidified that idea.

“Oh, Fun!’. Robin squeaks out hopping up to her feet being fully sarcastic. She crosses her arms over her chest giving a dramatic thinking face as if this was the most important choice she’s ever had to make. “Wow, and you think I’m bad at making decisions.” You scoff jokingly. “Tails. I like the sleeves. Kurt approved!’. She points to the second option, referencing her own costume, Kurt Cobain. The dress she picks has long off-the-shoulder sleeves and a slit up one of the legs. “You’re talking about yourself in the third person, as your Halloween costume, and I’m the ridiculous one?” You scoff. “You just referred to me as a coin, I think all options are on the table here.”

Amid the silence between your words, you’re startled by the sudden loud ringing from an incoming call. “Jesus, that’s like the third time today. He really is relentless.” Robin says. “You don’t even know that’s him.” You say defensively walking over to your nightstand grabbing your phone, laying both of the dresses down onto your comforter. You look over to Robin who is staring you down with her eyebrow raised, doing her best to bite her tongue. “So…?” She almost whispers. “Yeah okay, it’s him!” You spit out.

“I’m just gonna answer.” Walking over to Robin and grabbing her hand to lead her to the door, opening it in a way to kindly kick her out. She stops halfway through the doorway “How long are you gonna keep putting up with his ‘wannabe tough guy rockstar’ shtick?” She knows how these things go, and has seen the aftermath from each one. “Goodbye robin…” you drag out, putting the phone up to your ear and shutting the door on her. “You know, that wasn’t a very nice thing to do!” You hear muffled from the hallway outside your bedroom door. “Robin!” You protest, shouting through your teeth.

You turn, taking in a deep breath. “Hello?” You say sheepishly trying to play innocent. “Hey! There you are!” You can’t help but smile at the familiar voice on the other line. “Thought you had been dodging my calls.” He laughs out sarcastically, oblivious to your actions. That’s exactly what you had been doing but he didn’t need to know that. You pause for a second trying to gather yourself to avoid blowing your cover. “Oh, no, I’m sorry I- I just guess I’ve been caught up trying to get everything ready for tomorrow night. What’s up?” Attempting to sound sincere.

“You’re really still doing that Halloween thing with Harrington? I thought you would’ve given up on that by now.” He says almost judgmentally, which didn’t surprise you in the slightest, Eddie always had this territorial claim on you, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You roll your eyes and sigh quietly moving the phone away from your mouth before speaking again. “It’s more just for Robin, but we do this every year Eddie, I don’t know why you seem surprised.” you scoff.

“It’s whatever doll, as long as you’re still gonna make it tonight. Me and Gareth just finished up on soundcheck. Want you here tonight.” You can feel his excitement through the phone. Fuck. Tonight, it completely slipped your mind with everything going on. Maybe you were being more sincere than you had realized.

Corroded Coffin’s typical Tuesday night just happened to fall the night before Halloween. One of the only holidays Eddie ever really showed any interest in. It’s the one day out of the year where he can fully embrace all of the weird shit he’s into and everyone just goes along with it. He always played into that, you never knew anyone else so excited for an excuse to wear a cape and fake plastic fangs out in public, but he did it. Every. Single. Year. Without fail.

Eddie has had tonight’s date circled on his calendar for months, you were there with him as he did it. The child-like gleam in his smile as he realized they would have a show the night before his favorite day of the year was unforgettable. He circled the date obnoxiously large in red pen, adding ‘most metal night ever!!!’. The two of you were sprawled out across his bed, half nude from the intimacy you shared earlier in the night. Eddie had his guitar in his lap lazily strumming whatever tune had found its way into his mind at the moment and a lit cigarette dangling from his swollen lips. You are on his he opposite side resting on your hips, propping yourself up with your elbow. All you’re able to do is stare, completely entranced by the scene before your eyes, lost in the high of his presence. He springs up quickly moving his guitar under his arms and his cigarette between his index and middle fingers.

“What if I played you your favorite song at our show that night?” He whispers devilishly. You scoff in response “You don’t even know my favorite song, Eddie.” He places a hand over his chest, putting on his best show of being dramatically offended by your remarks. “You really think that, huh? I’m hurt sweetheart- of course, I know what it is.” He smirks his words in full defense. “For Whom The Bell Tolls. You told me the first night you came out to see the band. No surprise to me you can’t recall that, you were all over me.” He laughs blowing smoke from his last hit. You lean over and playfully punch him in his upper arm. “I was not all over you I was just-“ He cuts off your words, inching closer to closing the space between you two. “Just what? Hm?” His voice dripped with seduction. “Just getting to… know you better.” Lying through your teeth. “Maybe want to get to know me a little more, right now Doll?” His voice fizzles out slowly with every word, finally closing the gap between both of your lips.

You knew how much that night meant to him already, and he wanted you included. A perfect example of one of the many ways he had your heart tied down. No matter how long he strung along the idea of what you two could become if he could just give his ego a rest, you were completely wrapped around his finger.

“Dollface? You still there…?” Brought back to reality as his voice rings through your ear snapping you back to your conversation. “Yes! I uh- I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You spill out quickly, overwhelmed and caught up in the memories of the night you planned this all. “Our show tonight, you’re gonna be here right?” he almost pleads. Your hand swipes over your face as you crinkle your nose. “Oh yeah! You’re talking about that group Corroded coffin aren’t you?” You joke attempting to ease the tension. “Hm… I’m not sure if I’ll make it, heard a lot of sketchy things about their guitar player you know? Left a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth.” Hoping he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you completely blanked on your shared plans.

All he can do in response is chuckle in a way you can hear him smirking through the phone. “Oh, that right? Interesting you bring that up actually because the last I heard, their vocalist is kind of sweet on you.” Playing along with your game. “Is that so? Never would’ve guessed such a thing” you say with your bottom teeth between your teeth, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Think he’s even planning on taking you back to his place tonight, take that bitter taste right out of your mouth, sweeten up the deal.” He almost growls in your ear. You feel a hot flush pull its way up to the surface of your cheeks, rolling your eyes at how cocky he can be. “Very smooth Munson, guess you’re just lucky you’re good at more than one thing.” You hear him chuckle again.

“Seriously though, be here tonight. Swing by early? Around seven, if you can make it by then. Share a couple of drinks with me before you’re forced to admire me from afar the rest of the night.” You can already sense where his mind is at for his plans for the two of you once their set is over. “Coudnt miss out on seeing if that little rumor you’ve heard is true or not. I’ll see you soon Ed’s.” Your face now fully embracing the flush he brought upon you, he always found a way to reel you right back in. “Looking forward to it, Dollface. See ya.” His voice is sweet as he ends the call.

You flop back down on top of your mattress as a wave of emotion surges around you. Eddie was the one vice you could never force yourself to kick. There was just something so intoxicating about what you two shared. For as long as you two had known each other there was just something about Munson that just did it for you. You and Eddie were never remarkably close in High school, but you always liked to think you two both had this mutual agreement that there was something more sincere between you than either of you liked to lead on.

A few shared classes and small bursts of conversations in passing through the school halls were the main things keeping you two intertwined. Eventually, he had built up the courage to fully present his full self to you by inviting you to bear witness to his “satanic cult of Hellfire”. Your first real glace into his sickly sweet confidence that he couldn’t help but radiate once in character. You wish you could say this became a familiar practice, but to your surprise, Eddie had fallen victim to the high of the chase for the queen of Hawkin HIgh- Chrissy Cunningham. His first-ever real relationship, nearly squashing all of your newly found infatuation. From what you’ve heard through friends around town, they didn’t end up last much longer than a few months after that, once Eddie learned Chrissy had only been with him to score a cheap deal on whatever drugs he could offer her, he called it quits. Things between you and Eddie especially drifted apart after graduation. With nothing to force the two of you two together your fire slowly dwindled out with time.

Years have gone by since then but you still always felt a tug in your heart when you thought back to him. Around that same time you started a new part-time job over the summer, at the freshly opened record shop in your town. You had figured that the easy cash and your admiration and knowledge of music would make this chapter of life a breeze, even though barely any of the customers that came in bothered to browse the rock and metal bins you were so excited for. Today was like any other of the few shifts you’ve worked thus far. Checking out customers at the back counter, and going behind them to reorganize the various records the way they were intended to be.

You’re standing over the indie section of the shop as you hear the slight jingling of the front door opening. You turn to put on your usual “Welcome in, let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.” bit when you’re suddenly frozen in place by the sight of a familiar curl-topped silhouette that strolls through the door. Your breath hitches in your throat before you can ever open your mouth to speak. Every nearly buried feeling you had instantly rose back to the surface when your eyes met the brown doe eyes across from yours. You start to turn on your heel to make a quick exit but you aren’t quick enough, followed by a soft but confused grin from his plush lips. You shoot him a shy wave before he makes his way closer to you.

“You have to be shitting me, is that who I think it is?” He laughs out in disbelief. “The one and only.” you say awkwardly. He bites his tongue in his cheek before speaking again, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I really only came here to check the place out, but this is much more exciting than any album I would’ve found.”. You try your best to suppress the rush of fluttering throughout your stomach but it’s no use. Up until this moment, you hadn’t ever fully understood the extent of how much your silly high school crush was still stuck inside of you. “Well, you can’t come all this way and just not pick anything up.” Needing to change the subject before you melt. “Shit, guess you’re right. What do you recommend?” He purrs, swinging his arm out to the side and inviting you to take him toward whichever direction of the shop you need access to.

“Right this way.” you start walking towards the new releases section. “Yes, ma’am.” He utters seductively. You’re glad you’re facing the other direction because the rose tint of your cheeks would’ve been impossible to shield. Moments later you’re flicking the individual records between your nimble fingers before you find the one you’re searching for. “How about…this.” You sway your hips to turn to present him with the record of your choice. “just came out last month, a bit more underground and on the heavier side, but I figure you’re into that kind of thing.” you say confident in your decision. “Hell yeah, that’s perfect.” He mouths excitedly, placing the album in his hand. “I’ll have to uh- check it out.” His eyes traced the curves of your body, his words laced with a double meaning. Fuck, if he hadn’t realized yet he definitely knows the effect his words have on you now.

You both walk over to the cash register to finalize the sale. “you uh, you still in that band?” trying to fill in the awkward gaps with conversation. “Corroded Coffin?” he chuckles, eyes on yours as he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. “Yes! That’s the one.” your voice full of joy. “Yeah actually, I am. We play over at The Hideout every Tuesday night. You should come out next time.” he offers. “I’d love that actually, oh uh- here is your change by the way. Thanks for coming by.” not wanting to end the conversation even though you have to. “Shit yeah, almost slipped my mind.” he says before walking to the exit. “Hey, who knows maybe one day I’ll come in here and buy my own record off of you.” he shouts across the small shop before moving through the door.

Holding up to your end of the bargain you show up to The Hideout the very next Tuesday. The band had already started playing by the time you made it. It wasn’t hard for Eddie to spot you from the stage once you walked in with there only a handful of people at the bar since it was a weeknight. His face instantly lights up in a big goofy grin as he tries to keep his composure for the rest of their set. As soon as he’s off stage he finds his way towards you and orders your drink of choice, a vodka redbull. There’s not much you can say about that night, most of it is a faint drunken memory of his tongue down your throat in his favorite booth and your hand tangled in his hair or gripping the sheet he laid over the mattress in the back of his van. What you can say is that night changed everything from then on.

You lean over the check the time on the clock on your bedside table and start to get ready for whatever tonight may bring.

You straighten your waist-length jet-black hair, leaving your bangs a little messy. Your eyes are dressed in a dust-colored smokey eye, a thick wing of black eyeliner, and bold lashes. To no one’s surprise, you struggle to pick an outfit. You end up going with a cropped white tank top that shows off your form-fitting black bra underneath and a pair of ripped-up black denim shorts. You accidentally rip through part of your fishnet tights putting them on when your zipper gets caught, but you decide it adds to your aesthetic. A thick black cardigan and loose beanie to keep you warm until you get inside the venue which you know from experience will be full of body heat, and a pair of platform combat boots finish off your look before you grab your bag and keys to head off.

Almost instantaneously as you walk through your bedroom door shutting it behind you, Robin spots you and knows exactly where you’re heading. “Wow, he really got you back that easy huh?.” you groan and roll your eyes. “Robin come on, it’s only one night, he invited me ages ago.” pleading for her understanding after you promised her you swore Eddie off for good. “It’s been one night for…” turning up her blank wrist and looking at an imaginary wrist watch “What?…almost a year now?”. You take a deep breath and walk towards the front door of your shared house. “One night Robin! One. Night,” you say facing the opposite direction of her and shutting the door. As you grab your keys from your bag to turn the lock you hear a faint, muffled “Use protection!” shouted from the other side of the door. “I hate you!” you tell back sarcastically before heading to your car.

Maybe Robin was right, and you should give up hope on Eddie coming around the idea of you two being more than just casual fuck-buddies, but you both know you are far too stubborn and hopelessly in love for that to happen. Whatever he wanted to call you, you were his.

༺ the end.

chapter III: ‘bite the hand that feeds’

coming: soon!

[eldritch-nightmare]

Could I request some headcanons for the MH characters and how they'd react to their s/o dying due to the Operator sickness (just to make it more challenging, let's say Alex didn't do it)

a/n: you most certainly can omg i love writing mcd and angst!! i literally dropped everything i was doing to write this so i hope you enjoy!!

marble hornets characters reacting to their s/o dying due to operator sickness.

warnings: major character death, swearing, blood, vomit, coughing, sleep deprivation, gn!reader, death is mainly unspecified but alex isn't the cause, jessica's actually made me feel sad i wanna hug her.

JAY MERRICK.

You stuck by Jay's side since the beginning of all of this, helping him with finding more tapes and piecing together the clues of the mystery that is Marble Hornets.

Even when things got bad, you and Jay stuck together.

You guys were worried, obviously, when you both started to experience symptoms of the sickness, but neither of you allowed it to slow you down.

Unfortunately, the sickness was taking a heavy toll on you more than it was Jay at this point, and it was starting to show.

You could barely sleep most days, but with the sickness, sleeping was like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

And the day you died, you were running on no sleep. It had been... a while since you had last been able to sleep. You were at death's doorstep, but neither you nor Jay were ready to admit it.

Your death had been... peaceful, in the end.

You were in the car with Jay. You weren't sure where you two were going, but you knew that Tim was driving behind you guys. The weight of everything felt so heavy on your shoulders, and you could just... feel yourself drifting off. You knew you more than likely weren't going to wake up if you closed your eyes, so with the last of your strength, you caught Jay's attention and just oh so softly whispered, 'I love you.' before your eyes shut and you slumped against the window of the car.

Jay pulled over immediately because he knew that something was wrong. He tried performing CPR on you, but you didn't come back. And the Operator just had to choose this moment specifically to show up, so Tim had to physically drag Jay away from your body so the two could get away.

The Operator took your body, and Jay followed you into the afterlife soon after.

ALEX KRALIE.

Well first off congrats on not being killed by Alex, I guess. No, you die early on.

But he didn't kill you. He didn't get the chance. He was going to, trust me, but it seems your body just couldn't handle the sickness like everyone else.

That doesn't make it any less painful for Alex to watch. He loves you so much, so of course your death is going to hit him.

Seeing you vomit blood as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body started to convulse... it was terrible.

And he wanted to help you, he did! He wanted to do something to save your life but...

Perhaps... it would be better if he didn't...

Watching you die is something that'll haunt his dreams for sure, and your death will definitely motivate him to achieve his goal and it'll spur him further into the mindset of 'everyone in contact with anyone who has the sickness needs to die'.

And he'll blame Tim for your death, period.

Even if it isn't Tim's fault, it is. Alex simply cannot blame anyone else.

He knows that it was wrong to watch you die and not do anything to help, but... it was the right thing to do. Surely, you would have understood, right?

TIM WRIGHT.

His biggest fear was you dying because of all of this.

At first, most of his fear stemmed from him apparently having an alter ego of sorts that doesn't recognize the people he knows and is violent. He was worried that he'd end up hurting you when in this state of mind.

That fear transitioned away from that when this alter ego went dormant. Instead, it just became a natural fear of you getting injured.

He didn't want you to involve yourself in this because he knew it would be dangerous, but you insisted and he can't exactly stop you.

So when you die? Right in front of him? Choking on your own vomit and blood?

Well, he'd simply blame himself.

It's his fault that everyone is involved in all of this in the first place. If he had just... never made any friends, everyone would still be alive.

It's his fault. His fault that you died. He'll never get to see you again. He'll never get to hear your laugh or see the sparkle in your eyes.

He couldn't even get you a proper funeral because the Operator took your body. You're gone. You're gone.

Alex is right. It really is his fault.

BRIAN THOMAS.

Brian knew getting involved with you doomed you to your fate, but he's more selfish than he lets on.

He couldn't let you go. Even after he assumed the persona of Hoodie, he wanted you in his life.

He did his best to take care of you when the sickness started taking its toll on you. He made sure to steal some of Tim's pills for the two of you to take, he kept you hydrated and he was very adamant about you not touching his camera.

He concealed most of his worry because he knew that being openly worried would only make you worry.

His biggest concern was Alex finding you. If Alex knew where you were, he wouldn't hesitate to take your life, so Brian made sure he never even filmed anywhere near where he kept you.

That being said, because of everything going on, Brian can't be with you all the time.

And you die while he's gone.

He returns to the abandoned building to find it empty. You were nowhere in sight, and immediate panic overtook whatever other thoughts were going on in his mind as he tore the place apart trying to find you. The only thing left in your place was one of his spare cameras.

Dread immediately settles in alongside his panic as he watches the latest tape on the camera, and that's when he sees it. You, with tears streaming down your face as you struggle to force back a violent cough fit. You confessed to him that you hadn't been taking the pills he'd been giving you, instead always sneaking them back into the bottle so Brian would have more to take for himself. And you cry, telling Brian that you're sorry and that you love him before you drop the camera and fall to the ground as a violent coughing fit begins to take over.

Brian has to look away from the screen because seeing you die is not something he can handle. He only looks back when you stop coughing. Your body wasn't in the frame anymore. It's safe to assume that the Operator took you.

Brian sorta just... goes numb, to be honest. There's no other way to describe it, really. He just exists, and then he dies.

JESSICA LOCKE.

Oh Shit. Oh God, what the hell? What's going on?

Poor girl doesn't even know what's happening for most of the time she's there and now her lover just collapsed to the ground and started to cough up blood.

She tries her hardest to offer her support, holding your hair back and trying to help you ride out this coughing fit but it just gets worse the longer you cough.

She's in tears as she tells you to just hold on, scrambling to search for anything she could use to call an ambulance to get you some help.

She even tries carrying you, but she's also dealing with the sickness and is in a weakened state so all she can do is watch in horror as your coughing gets worse.

Then the vomiting starts, and there's no way a human can survive vomiting up so much blood.

Please don't die. Please, she can't lose you. She can't do this without you! You have to stay alive, you have to stay with her! You can push through this, she knows you can! Just focus on her voice, okay?

But her pleas mean nothing in the end.

In the end, your body gives out on you and you breath your last breath in the arms of your girlfriend as she cries, begging you to stay with her.

And when all of this is over, she has no memory of your death. Tim tells her that you left. She'll never know the truth of what actually happened.

[cloudbug08]

Nervous II

Carl Grimes x fem!reader

AN: both Carl and the reader are 14/15, as I’m currently on s4 and that’s his age around that season.

I’m completely fine with adults reading this, just don’t be weird in the comments or request any nsfw work of Carl because he’s a child and so am I, I don’t feel comfortable involving myself with that sort of content.

TW: angst, the SA scene in e16 of season 4 but I altered it, canon typical violence

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Your boots wedged into the grooves of the train track, a new pair that Rick had kindly picked up for you when looting a house not far off the tracks

Listening attentively as Carl rattled on about how they had all survived so far.

You tilted your head at him, laughing louder than you ever had since this whole mess started

“You ate a whole tub of chocolate pudding?”

Your cheeks reddened as you giggled, Carl fixed his hat lower over his eyes, embarrassed.

“Yeah? What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t know, it’s not even that funny”

You kept laughing, eventually Carl joined in, snickering as he sat across from you, picking at dried grass.

Rick hollered, calling the two of you over

“We’ll have to get going now, don’t have much time until dark”

And so you moved, trekked through the forest until you came to a clearing, a van parked in the centre.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

Dinner passed in pleasant silence, before long you were yawing, your head rolling on your shoulders, Michonne urged you into the back seat of the van for a well earned rest, Carl following not long after.

You drifted off with Carl sat next to you.

You violently jerked awake when a hand slammed against the window, squirming and struggling as the man grabbed you and threw you on the leaved ground.

Tossing Carl down next to you, he leaned over your friend and all you could do was watch, wait and watch as Carl endured the same fate as you, something snapped.

A deep ridden need to not allow the same trauma to befall your only friend.

You rushed up, shoving you body against the big man, pushing him off of Carl, you peered back at the boy, attempting to usher him a way, make a run for it, anything, but he stayed frozen, eyes wide.

Your abrupt attempt to distract the man has worked, now focused on you, you struggled, kicking you boot out at Carl’s leg, you whisper to him

“Carl, run”

Through his shocked stupor he shakes his head

“I’ll be fine, go”

He still laid there, seemingly frozen like you were moments ago, you gritted your teeth, wetness pooling in your lower eyelids as the man hitched up your nightdress, you whimpered, looking over you shoulder, where Rick and Michonne were knelt, they were both peering over, Rick’s teeth were clenched in fury, Michonne’s eyes pooled with tears.

You let out a cry, looking to your friend, his face cast in a look of horror, then you remembered, Carl saved you that day, and you’d be damned if you let that go to waste.

Reaching for your outer thigh and pulling a hunters knife from a holster Michonne had lent you, letting out a shout as you lifted the knife and pushed it into the man’s neck, avoiding any main arteries, this bastard would die slow.

Blood spurted out into your face, pushing the man off of you, wrenching the knife out of his neck, before repeatedly tearing into him, Standing after you were sure he was dead, your knife clattered against the ground, you collapsed with it, reaching for Carl.

You howled into his shoulder as he shook with you

“Why didn’t you run”

You moaned, your voice clogged with agony

“You should have run, I was trying to repay you”

His breath hitched

“I wasn’t going to leave you”

He started weeping with you, neither of you looked up when Michonne skidded on the dry dirt path, wrapping her arms around you both, pressing you tight into her chest, she rubbed a hand over your shoulder, leaning down to both of you, she cooed.

“You did so well, so well”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Chapter three will be uploaded very soon! Please comment if you would like to be put on my taglist or would like to ask any questions, reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[blayresmuses]

vulnerability was something aemond tended to stray away from. not only within himself but others too, it left an uncomfortable pit in his stomach that almost always ended with him excusing himself just to escape.

but you.

your eyes were wide, your pupils blown and you wouldn’t look away and neither could he. your gaze reminded him of open gates, baring the entirety of your soul to him and him only. it wasn’t supposed to feel like this, this was meant to be his duty - nothing more nothing less.

this intimacy should scare him, should send him running but he only ruts deeper into the wetness of your cunt. so welcoming, enveloping him so perfectly he can’t think straight. it’s only you - the clamminess of your palms as they slide down his back and the puffs of air he feels against his mouth. dizzying pleasure shoots through him when you kiss him, an unprovoked show of affection he wants to chase for the rest of his life, for as long as you let him.

never did he think his marriage would end up this way, with the most beautiful woman underneath him so lustful, so eager. he wants to tell you, wants to say something at least to even try and put it into words how he feels but all he can manage is a variety of grunts and groans as you clench around his cock.

his thrusts are slow, deep, savouring the feel of you like it’s his last day on the planet. he might be dragging it out but you don’t seem to mind, your skin glows as you writhe, bucking your hips up against him, guiding him into that heavenly place. you moan his name and in that moment his feelings want to flow from him like molten flame, so uncharacteristic for him that he kisses you just to keep it from happening.

candles burn and gutter out around you as he continues exploring your body, pouring his love into every movement because that’s what it is, this feeling. this soft change of character, this pure devotion. you’re his alter that he worships at, some otherworldly being that he doesn’t deserve but will take anyway because how could he not?

perfectness drips from your every pore and aemond bathes in it, tastes it from your skin. he wants to swallow this moment, carry it within him forever. on his deathbed he’ll remember these times, when you were so unabashedly his and he was yours, will carry this carnal knowledge of your body forever. he feels for you with a delirious passion that nothing can maim and so when he comes it’s your name he cries, a manic call for the woman he loves.

[bones4thecats]

Hi again! I've got an interesting idea for you today!

How would Record of Ragnarok Gods react having to fight/marry a widowmaker(overwatch) reader!

Widowmaker is a really interesting and tragic character in my opinion! She was a ballet dancer, before she was kidnapped and subjected her to an intense program of neural reconditioning, in effect creating a sleeper agent

Shortly after returning home, she killed her husband and vanished.

Widowmaker is the perfect assassin: a patient, ruthlessly efficient killer who shows neither emotion nor remorse. Widow's physiology was altered to improve her aim, drastically slowing her heart, which turned her skin cold and blue, and numbed her ability to experience human emotion. It dulled the pain of what she’d done, while heightening the charge she felt on the hunt.

How the gods react knowing she killed her first husband? How would they react to her title as the perfect assassin? How would they react knowing she can't feel emotion yet yearns to be loved and to be healed?

A/N: I have never played Overwatch, since I’m not that big on video games, so thanks for the description regarding her character! I also decided to do all Hindu Gods because they’re my favorite pantheon. Now, I hope this makes sense, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪩 Shiva met you through his wives, as they needed someone taken out, but they couldn’t just stroll up to random human and go, ‘Yeah, ur dead.’

🪩 After that hunt was successful, he had gotten more and more interested in you personally

🪩 It took a while, but you eventually took him as your husband and your blank stare was something he was determined to fix

🪩 He had no idea why your skin was blue, but he figured you were a possible demi-god, or like Kali, you just had blue skin like how he had purple

🪩 When you decided to tell him about everything, his reactions varied;

🪩 For the husband thing; He was kinda freaked out, but he knew you had changed and wouldn’t try hurting him

🪩 Title as the ‘Perfect Assassin’; Like mentioned, he already knew from his wives, so he just relaxed about that

🪩 And the way you yearn to feel things; Shiva was quite the romantic, so knowing you couldn’t show it, yet you wanted it so badly made his heart yearn for you more

🪩 Parvati, Durga, and Kali have been trying to get you to feel things again to the fullest, and they swore on it, with Shiva, they’d succeed

🪩 Oh yeah, and he loves dancing with you! It calms him down after a long day

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🔥 He had heard about you, but never met you until Shiva brought you into help scout a rogue God from another Pantheon that was said to try murdering any God that came near them

🔥 Agni looked at you as you nodded and he helped you take the God down, using his fire to burn the guy to crisp

🔥 You and him were a funny match

🔥 He was very warm while you were very cold, so resting with him was one of the best experiences you ever had

🔥 Unlike Shiva, he reactions a lot differently to each incident

🔥 Husband murder; Kinda scared of you, but he accepted it in the end, as it was the only way you guys could continue a healthy relationship

🔥 Title; It’s normal for important people to have big titles, like Shiva’s was the God of Destruction and Dance, which made people turn to look at him. So having you get a nickname that stood out didn’t shock him, in fact, it impressed him more than anything

🔥 Your yearning for closeness; Definitely has the same issue as you, he gets judged by the fire that envelops his body, and because of the flames, he doesn’t get that much physical affection, so he tried hugging you daily no matter what

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐘 He met you when he was picking flowers for his mothers and father

🐘 Ganesha was spacing out so badly that he didn’t notice a rogue God coming from behind to kill him, so when he heard the sound of a man burning alive, he jumped and saw you come down to finish the job

🐘 You scared him at first, but after getting to know each other, you guys were inseparable

🐘 The women and Shiva allow your relationship to thrive as long as you didn’t go berserk like you did with your last husband, which prompted you to tell him about your past;

🐘 Husband Murder; He won’t judge you for it, but seeing as your past gives you justification in his eyes, and he’ll defend your honor of that from anyone

🐘 Title; Shocked? Yes. He knew you were a good shot, but not that good! Not like he was doubting your ability, but it just made him go;

“ Holy Heaven, my wife is the best assassin in all Pantheons! “

🐘 Finally, the yearning for love; Definitely gives you what you want, he loves affection and nobody can change my mind.

🐘 He does enjoy watching you dance, sometimes joining in himself whenever you ask him too

[nofomogirl]

Before the Beginning (part 1.5.)

Part 1.1. | Part 1.2. | Part 1.3. | Part 1.4. |

Part 2.1. | Part 2.2. | Part 2.3. | Part 2.4. |

In this post, I'm going to wrap part 1 up and I won't lie, I'm really nervous. I feel like I've made a tall and wobbly tower of blocks and now I need to make something coherent out of it. Make all this rambling have a point.

Plus, I'll need to talk about Final Fifteen, and that's inherently nerve-wracking.

You say I've already written about it? Whole 9 posts about Metatron's manipulation, picking it apart step by step? Yes, I did. But that's the point - it was about Metatron. I skipped the worst part - the last conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley.

I couldn't avoid it forever. Let's scratch and poke at that wound.

Fair warning though: there won't be any stark revelations. I'm just processing things by writing about them.

Let's start with some facts. These are all hard canon:

Crowley used to be an angel

Aziraphale used to know him back then

They both remember it, at least partly

The Fall transformed Crowley

And these are not canonical facts, but relatively safe guesses:

They don't talk about it

Crowley avoids thinking about it

Aziraphale has no clue how Crowley feels about it

Honestly, it appears that Crowley's pre-Fall identity is more of a taboo for him than the Fall itself. Sure, the Fall is still a sore topic, and he doesn't exactly discuss it, but he is talking about it, if only a little bit, and on some occasions he even brings it up himself. But when his angelic past is mentioned he just refuses to go there. He shuts it down on the spot with no regard for the circumstances.

This exact happened in Final Fifteen, except this time Aziraphale wasn't just pointing out Crowley used to be an angel, he also suggested Crowley may become an angel.

Just look at the dialogue, especially Crowley's responses.

M: (...) it might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status. C: He said what? A: He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and... and everything. Like the old times. Only even nicer. C: Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then? A: Not at all. C: Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, angel! You don't need them. I certainly don't need them! Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no. I'm not rejoining their team. Neither should you.

A lot of people pointed out how they were talking past each other the whole scene, not really hearing what the other was saying. I wholeheartedly agree and I think it started right here, with Crowley refusing to acknowledge and address what Aziraphale had said and ever so subtly - most likely unconsciously - steering the conversation away from the topic and into the miscommunication storm.

I mean, just look at what happened. In slow motion.

Metatron offered Aziraphale the job of the supreme archangel.

Aziraphale said No, I don't want to.

Metatron then altered the offer and said if Aziraphale took the job, he could turn Crowley back into an angel.

Problems start here.

S3 may change my mind but right now I am convinced Aziraphale doesn't really understand what the Fall was. He doesn't understand what it was objectively, and he doesn't understand what it means to Crowley personally. This is why Metatron's offer seems so attractive to him. He sees only pros and no cons. He cannot fathom what could be undesirable about it.

Metatron, on the other hand, knows much much more. That's why he feels safe making this seemingly generous offer - he knows it will cost him nothing because Crowley won't take it. Not only that, he knows the mere mention will trigger Crowley, and make him irrational. That in turn will upset and trigger Aziraphale thus making him more vulnerable and easier to manipulate.

Back to the scene.

Aziraphale goes to Crowley and reiterates Metatron's offer to him. He tells him that if he takes it, Crowley can be an angel again.

Now this is the important part. How does Crowley respond to it?

He immediately gets angry. Not amusingly annoyed or endearingly peeved, but properly angry.

And then he goes on a rant about why he and Aziraphale shouldn't rejoin their old sides. And that's... not entirely relevant.

For quite some time I couldn't figure out why Aziraphale's "Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys" didn't upset me as much as it logically should. Sure, I'm Aziraphale's defender and apologist but this line is objectively unfair to Crowley. I should be disappointed and frustrated. So why would I feel like I wanted to agree with it, even though my brain clearly didn't?

Then it finally clicked. It wasn't what Aziraphale said, especially not the "you're the bad guys" part. It was about his tone. I could relate viscerally to how ridiculous he found Crowley's argument to be. Because honestly Crowley, baby, what are you talking about? What do you think you're proving to your angel here? How is the offer you were made to go back to Hell even remotely comparable?

Sure, they appear to be almost the same on the surface. Beelzebub told Crowley he could go back to Hell, and become a Duke. Metatron told Aziraphale he could go back to Heaven and become a Supreme Archangel. But that similarity disappears if - unlike Crowley - you don't conveniently take bits and pieces out of context but look at the whole thing.

Beelzebub's offer was that if Crowley helped them find Gabriel he would be allowed to go back to Hell and become a Duke. Metatron's offer was that if Aziraphale returned to Heaven and became the Supreme Archangel, he would be able to make Crowley an angel.

Rejoining his old side (with a promotion) was meant to be a prize for Crowley, but a price for Aziraphale.

Both of our ineffable spouses love Earth and given the absolute freedom of choice, they would like to live there forever. Preferably undisturbed by any supernatural institution in any way. I don't think anybody doubts that. Leaving Earth and getting involved with their former sides - no matter the rank - was the exact opposite of that, the exact opposite of what either of them wanted.

Crowley was offered that undesirable thing as a reward, so obviously he said no.

Aziraphale was offered that undesirable thing as a part of a package deal which also contained something he perceived as highly desirable, so obviously he considered it.

But Crowley reacted as if Metatron's offer was the same as Beelzebub's offer. As if it was all about Aziraphale being invited back to Heaven. He focuses on trying to convince the angel not to go, on explaining how Heaven isn't good at all, and finally on confessing and offering to run away together. He tries everything except responding to the actual offer and simply saying he doesn't want to be an angel.

I believe the main reason was what I listed among the safe guesses - that it was too difficult to talk or even think about. So he focused on the other part instead. It came easily because (a) anything that wasn't thinking about himself as an angel was great at the moment, and (b) the idea of Aziraphale leaning toward Heaven yet again was something he had strong feelings and opinions about.

Sadly, Aziraphale helped him steer the conversation away from the point with his response. The infamous "you're the bad guys. But Heaven... Well, it's the side of Truth. Of Light. Of Good."

I believe that was a point of no return beyond which the whole situation couldn't be saved. Not right then and there. Not without both of them stepping away and calming down. But somebody made sure they wouldn't be able to do it...

And the worst part is, I don't think there was all that much faith behind Aziraphale's words. I firmly believe he honestly wasn't interested in taking Metatron's offer unless Crowley went with him. But as he got unbalanced he fell into old mental grooves.

If you don't mind, I'll stop here. I neither have it in me to break apart the entire conversation (perhaps I'll face this monster one day but no promises) nor is it necessary for this series of posts.

The point of which - in case you've forgotten, which I, admittedly, made very easy for you - is that (1) Crowley was substantially transformed by the Fall, (2) he does not identify with his past angelic persona and is pretty much unable to think about himself in those terms, (3) Aziraphale severely underestimates the depth of the transformation, (4) has very little knowledge and understanding about Crowley's feelings on the entire matter, and (5) it let him to making a lot of assumptions.

Another thing I am not going to discuss here is what Aziraphale thinks he's offering Crowley. Perhaps the subject will get its turn one day. For now, suffice it to say, that what Aziraphale is offering - or rather what Metatron has offered - is most definitely NOT what Aziraphale believes it to be.

In the opening post, I pointed out that angel!Crowley didn't have any visible serpentine traits (he had brown eyes with regular round irises and he didn't have his sigil/tattoo), and I proposed a theory that it's supposed to hint at a lack of serpentine nature. That Crowley wasn't originally a snake but became one during or after the Fall.

If we look at Aziraphale's offer through these lenses, Crowley's unyielding rejection of it takes on a whole different meaning. It isn't about principles anymore or about Crowley's feelings getting hurt or his worth possibly being questioned. It isn't symbolic. It's very real.

The offer to restore Crowley to full angelic status very likely means a repetition of the Fall - a painful transformation that mangles the spirit and alters parts of a person beyond repair.

The offer to make Crowley an angel may very well mean the eradication of snake!Crowley.

I don't believe Aziraphale understands it.

Crowley couldn't bear thinking about it so he never talked about it.

Thus concludes part 1.

I am very emotionally tired.

Thank you for reading.

[carionto]

For once, that space Doomsday thing is NOT us

(which is a very bad, no good, horrible, terrible thought)

The Galactic Core! A nigh impossible to ascertain let alone approach or navigate area of space. A supermassive Black Hole chaotically orbited by countless celestial objects at ludicrous speeds.

Due to their past activity, we approached Humanity with a very serious and troubling matter that came to our attention.

What did you do to the supermassive Black Hole at the center of our Galaxy?

"What?"

It's gone. Poof. The nearby stars and smaller black holes are in complete chaos and will eventually form into a new central Black Hole, but nowhere near as gigantic. The repercussions to the entire structure of the Galaxy are, well, we don't know what it's gonna do. How did you do it?

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there. We didn't do anything of the sort. We're still working on trying to warp planets away. We're at least a few decades away from being able to, in theory, manipulate black holes. We swear, it wasn't us!"

Wait, but you do have a way of doing something like that?

"On paper, sorta-not-really-but-it's-not-impossible yeah? Honest, it is just two very niche quantum mechanic shenanigan theories. The energy requirements alone are beyond what a hundred stars produce in their entire lifespans, and the materials for the devices exist in one wacko's brain. But some advances in material synthesis suggests something like those could exist, after a few other breakthroughs in quark manipulation and electron discharging that is."

Okay, let's think. What kind of energy signature do you suppose your tech would emit? We're scanning and analyzing everything, and despite extensive clean up, the interference from thousands of stars garbles everything into an incoherent mess.

"Ah, well, there is one thing, but... it's something we can't say."

This is critical! We don't care what secret your "vanishing" holds, an event of this magnitude supersedes it! Tell us!

"No. We understand, but that is a line we will not cross. We decided so at the beginning. Nothing will change that. Not even the end of the Universe."

You!!! Gah! You can be so infuriatingly stubborn with the worst of things! Fine. The Galactic Coalition cannot force members into action or to divulge information against their will, and we will respect our millennia steadfast rules and your decision. However, we will not forget.

"We know. Neither will we. You'll just have to trust us that we had nothing to do with this, and will conduct our own investigation. If our suspicion proves accurate, you can bet Humanity will focus our entire attention to resolving mystery, and correct what has been done."

__________________________

[Later, at Earth's orbital Head Governing Station]

Okay, that's two votes for extragalactic space bugs, five for A Wizard Did It, and eight for our interdimensional hate-watcher. Unless we can confirm that it is somehow breaching the space between dimensions on its own, we cannot utilize any of the methods we have to check back there. If we are wrong, even a microscopic probe slipping between might allow it to follow back for real.

No, for now, let's try and figure out what Cthulu actually is and if magic is real. Rescind funding limits on anyone claiming to be a magician - give them full staffing and resources. And assign psychologists to observe them as well. If nothing else, let's advance our understanding of the human psyche under all the mind altering substances they're bound to do.

[makethemmilky]

Amy and Liz had been best friends and roommates for years. They did practically everything together, and after a bit too much to drink one night that included both of them being impregnated by Liz’s boyfriend. It had all started innocently enough, with Liz talking about their plans to have kids after they were more settled, and after a few more drinks Amy confessing she’d always wanted to be a mom but feeling frustrated by not being able to meet the right guy. Alcohol certainly played a role, but there was also something primal in Liz that convinced her to encourage her boyfriend to fuck her best friend. Soon afterwards Liz was watching Amy bounce up and down on his cock while feeling the warmth of his seed inside her own cunt. In the drunken haze that followed nobody really remembered what happened, and neither girl realized that years of living together had left them ovulating at the same time. It was only around the time Liz went up a bra size and Amy couldn’t get her jeans to snap did they realize what had happened.

The hormones and the changes altering their bodies more and more each day left both women feeling hornier than they’d ever been before. Soon the comforting feeling each girl had of knowing the other was going through the same thing gave way to something harder and hotter. As their bellies began to dome and their nipples darkened the girls themselves found themselves reveling in the changes happening to themselves, the same changes they could see obviously occurring on the other’s body. Each girl could feel themselves become more beautiful and more desperate, and they could see the same thing happening to each other. For six months they resisted, but as they grew rounder and more beautifully feminine it became impossible to avoid each other.</p><p>One day they finally snapped. Liz had been staring at her swollen form in the mirror, marveling at the first drops of milk beginning to flow from her engorged tits, when Amy walked in, wearing only a flowing robe, one of the few items of clothing still comfortable in her expanded state.

“Look," Liz said, directing her friend’s gaze to the slow-moving drops emanating from her erect nipples.

“I can’t believe you’re making milk,” Amy said. “I’m not making any yet. How does it feel?”

“It feels,” Liz said, struggling to describe the sensation, “kind of good. Like there’s a pressure building inside of me that I need to let out?”

Amy immediately what her friend meant. For weeks she’d felt the same pressure bubbling inside of her, and she also knew exactly what she wished somebody would do about it.

“Would it helped if I sucked some of out?”

Liz shuddered and she felt her nipples distend even further. For months she’d been feeling this feminine longing she couldn’t quite articulate and now, at this exact moment, she realized it was a longing to feed someone, anyone, her delicious milk.

“That would be, uh, nice,” Liz said before gingerly folding up her brown areola to her friend’s mouth.

In a moment six months’ worth of pentup libido came pouring out, with the two women pushing into each other passionately, their bulging bellies grinding into each other as each gasped at the newfound sensitivity of their rounded midsections. In the small remaining corner of her mind Amy compared how similar, and yet how different Liz’s altered body was to her own. Amy carried her bump higher and it was even a little bigger than her own, while Liz’s breasts, originally the smaller of two, had grown significantly with milk and now far surpassed he friend’s.

Even if she didn’t yet have milk of her own, Liz was sure that Amy’s sensitive dark nubs would enjoy playing with just as much as her own. Instinctively each girl grabbed their growing tits and pressed them against each other, the sensation of rock-hard nipples caressing darkened, ultra-sensitive areolae.

Liz had never gone down on another woman before. But having felt her own body change over the past months she knew exactly where and how Amy would want to be touched. Even as she lowered her tongue to Amy’s pronounced clit she could feel her own body pulsing with the need to be sucked and fucked. For well over an hour the two preggos went at it, coaxing countless orgasms out of bodies that seemed capable of producing more and stronger ones than they’d ever previously felt before. By the end they lay collapsed on the couch, gently stroking each other’s bellies and marveling at the changes to both themselves and their relationships.

They understood each other, and each others’ changing bodies, better than anybody else ever could. Right there they decided they would raise their children together and make sure they both produced many more by staying heavy and round with child together. Still, as connected as they now were, both realized they loved the feeling of being bred by a hard cock, and if they wanted to fulfill their dreams of staying pregnant forever they would need a consistent source of seed. Luckily Amy had a plan.

 When he returned home Liz’s boyfriend would be in for a shock when he learned that there were now two women wanting to kept full of his babies at all times.

[traitorca]

My Iron Lung - The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader - 2

Masterlist

He’s dead. Rick is dead, that’s what he told you. Shane couldn’t stay in there long, and neither could any of you as troopers shot and killed just about anyone in sight. You slapped him, for some reason you actually slapped him. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him- no, of course you didn’t, it seemed so unlikely. His vitals were just fine as of your last visit- but Shane wouldn’t lie about that- That was his best friend and you couldn’t just feel entitled- no, paranoid because of your relationship. Despite your inner turmoil, it took everything in you not to rush back in there and see for yourself the outcome of Rick.

That leads you to now, grip on the steering wheel harsh as you drove out of Kings County, to the interstate which would lead you to Atlanta. The radio said that a safe zone was put up, that seeking refuge would be possible while they figure out how to stop this outbreak. But from an epidemiologist’s perspective, you didn’t think it could be stopped.

Prior to the apocalypses reign in the States, you had received a call from your colleague when the UK had just been shut down for quarantine. They had asked- urgently, for any information based upon your latest research. Now that you thought about it, it seemed suspicious of you to leave so urgently after working on a patient who undoubtedly was a cause of this pandemic. You had told them all you knew, bacteria, infection- ants.

Why ants? Well, you were sure it had something to do with the zombie ant fungus native to the rainforests of South America. This disease was capable of taking pathogenesis and altering the entire behavioral system of an ant, and making it a tool for conquering. To an extent, this victim would die spreading a disease- but unfortunately, not all of the symptoms in this apocalypse matched those. But it was entirely possible- the thought of the world sweltering due to atmospheric change, global warming- who wasn’t to say such a fungi wouldn’t adapt to its surroundings? In an attempt of desperation, try a different host? Not to say this was all caused by an ant, but there were no theories that served as a proper alternative.

You couldn’t even cry, that’s how strange this all was. Your brother was dead, and you couldn’t feel a thing but the adrenaline rush. If you weren’t careful, you were sure to rear end someone on the highway as they all seemed to slow down. To be honest, you weren’t that familiar to road rage, but this was a new level of anger.

Shane was sitting in the passenger seat, arm propped up on the open window. It was too hot to sit idle in a car, underneath the setting sun, on the middle of a highway in Georgia. Atlanta better be worth it.

An accident of some sorts had happened up on the road, a blockage of cars preventing the caravan from moving further into Atlanta. This called for the people in their cars to gather outside, mingle together at any chance for survival or support until they were able to make it there safely. Which- to some people, is a good thing. Strength in numbers. But if you learned anything from your line of work, and you were sure Shane knew it too, people don’t change overnight when the world goes to shit. Maybe their world was shit already, and this only would give them an excuse to act out and lose the last ounce of morality they had.

You sat on the car's hood, a melted popsicle in hand as you watched Carl talk to a girl about his age. You had packed the last few Otterpops left in your freezer, and it was holding Carl over, and you were surely content as you could be. Lori and Shane had wandered with a group of people into the woods, dusk falling over the sky. Helicopters flew past overhead, their propellers slicing through the air as you bit into the ice.

“My Aunt is the coolest! She’s a scientist- I think she can figure this whole thing out-!” Carl, bless his heart, was just excited he had someone to talk to. But things like that- saying you could potentially save the world? That was a large claim, and you were unsure you were fit to fill the expectation.

“A scientist?” Sophia responded, looking up at you. “You don’t look like a scientist.”

“I don’t look like a lot of things.” You responded, smiling down at her as you pushed yourself off the hood of Shane’s jeep. “I am a scientist but-“

“So you know what’s going on?” Sophia’s mother, Carol, seemed to train attention to the conversation. “What ‘this’ is?”

“Well- it’s really hard to say, but before I left my research, I had found that it could be related to fungi-“

“Or the wrath of God!” Carl finished for you.

“Yeah. That too.”

This didn’t seem to bring any comfort to Carol or her daughter, but she seemed keen on staying around you. “Do you think… you could fix it?”

“Well- I don’t know if IM the right one for that, there are plenty of other experienced people in my field-“

“But could you?”

“Carol, stop fucking around with this woman.” Her husband came out of their car, eyes narrowed as he grabbed her wrist. “Sorry if she’s bothering you, Doc.” The nickname was bitter, almost as if it was drenched in venom.

“No. It’s okay. I’m just afraid I don’t know all the answers.” You laughed anxiously, looking back at Carl as you ruffled his hair.

He laughed at that. How charming, if you could roll your eyes you would. “I wouldn’t leave that job to a woman anyway, leave it to the professionals.”

“Excuse me?” Out of all the misogynistic things said to you your whole life, this was honestly something you weren't expecting. You were pissed, other hand clenched around the otterpop that was long gone by now. Before you could get another word out, the horizon lit up in large, orange plumes of light. The ground shook, noises comparable to thunder flooded the air. Helicopters whipped past, smoke visibly now as it surfaced over Atlanta.

What happened to Atlanta being safe?! Safe my ass.

Carl dove for your arms, hands gripping the back of your tank top as he shook. “Where’s mom-?! She should’ve been back-“

“Shh- no, she’s fine. She’s with Shane, alright? He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Just like I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” You whispered, kissing your head. “See? See, people are coming back from the woods. Lo will be here.” You really had to work on your comforting skills, because as much as you wanted Carl to believe your words, you weren’t sure you believed them either.

The next few days were slow, hot, and downright depressing. You had found a group at that blockade on the highway a few days back, and had located yourself at a quarry. Your new found purpose was in the form of a man named Dale, sisters Amy and Andrea, T-Dog, Glenn, Morales and his family, Jacqui, Jim, Carol, Ed, and Sophia- you were never popular in highschool, so this really must be your IT girl phase.

Rumors of your ex-occupation spread fast, Carl not leaving a single detail out. You were unsure if he was saying these things to show off, or convince himself that this world could be fixed. It was sad when you thought about it, Carl never really had the chance to be a kid. He was about- eleven now? No, twelve. This really was a reminder you weren’t around much. You were glad you were here now at least, and you were damn sure Carl wouldn’t leave your sight this time. Lori could take care of herself- well, more like Shane would take care of her instead. You weren’t going to act dumb, you knew the way Shane looked at her wasn’t just friendly. Nothing about Shane was “just friendly”.

People seemed to keep you close, constantly making conversation with you- questioning you on your job. You hate to say it, but you didn’t get the job for the money or the attention. You weren’t like a NASA scientist or whatever- so this was strange. People were so convinced you were some special, intelligent alien from another world- but you were just a woman in her twenties.

Rick would know what to do. Rick always knew what to do, he’s the reason you got out of Kings County- because he told you that you were meant for more. Not to be locked in a life you couldn’t escape. You had no doubt Rick loved his son and wife, family was a big part of being a Grimes, but you knew you weren’t just your family name, and he did too.

All the things you could’ve said to him, and you couldn’t. And now he was dead, probably mauled to death in some hospital bed, infected- a freakish monster, much like the ones he promised to protect you from when you were just a child.

How you missed the times when THAT was the thing to be afraid of.

You liked your time alone, you had always been a loner- but this was another level. Walking alone as a woman was scary enough- but now it was much more than men who would grab you without thinking twice. Now they didn’t have to think at all. Despite this, you enjoyed walking out by yourself- with a firearm of course, considering nothing was really illegal and it was the ONLY option anyway. Besides, the group didn’t have any real, concrete food sources, and you were damned to hell if Shane was really going to feed you all frogs for dinner. So you offered to find berries and plants that were edible, because- not to brag, you were pretty darn smart when it came to a lot of things.

The pine straw shuffled beneath your feet, sun slowly setting above you as birds softly chirped overhead, almost as if they were scared to draw too much attention. Your lips were pressed into a thin line, a small drop of sweat dripping down your forehead at a leisurely pace. You had a bucket with you, filled with all sorts of plants you had collected from the underbrush. You missed real food- even squirrels were starting to look better on a dinner plate than in a tree- and that’s when you KNOW you’ve gone crazy. Maybe the apocalypse wasn’t for everyone, but your resilience made you a strong contender- but also, a really big fucking idiot.

Picky eaters suck ass in situations like this.

You didn’t get too terribly far, but you were starting to realize that your surroundings were becoming a little bit too unfamiliar for your liking. With this in mind, you noted that you should probably head back soon as the sun was getting lower every passing moment.

Your feet turned, body instantly colliding with something as you fell to the ground. A freak. A fucking freak gnawing at you- shaky hands keeping his jaw lengths away from your face. How had you not heard it?! What the fuck- Teeth, nails, teeth, nails, teeth- teeth teeth teeth- watch the teeth!

You cursed, hand reaching for your gun as your bucket was long gone from your grasp. You struggled, grunting as you attempted to push its body off of you with just one hand. How fucking embarrassing- no one had ever caught you this off guard before, much less a freak.

“Get the fuck off! Get off-!” You yelled, hand finally freeing your gun from your belt. You knew loud noises would draw them- you couldn’t risk that, not with your camp near. You ALSO knew that if they heard a gun fire, you couldn’t pretend to know nothing about it. Shane would never let you out again if he knew what a close call you had. So, you did the next best thing. You slammed the butt of your gun straight into its head, knocking it off of you. It rolled, gurgling as it went to stand again. You rolled away, hands pushing yourself up as you turned to face it again. You raised your gun, mentally preparing for the shit show Shane and Lori were going to be when you got back, having fired a gun-

You aimed, fingering the trigger as you slowed your breathing. Remember what Rick taught you, slow, precise- shoot.

The walker fell, but you hadn’t pulled the trigger.

A second passed as you stared.

Another, as you lowered your gaze to the ground.

In its head, where the bullet would’ve been, was a carbon arrow with a green fletching.

“Well look a’ what we have ‘ere, Darlina… I dare say you just saved her ass.”

Men fucking suck.

taglist:🏷️: @poubxlle @kovieky @fallenkitten @dixonsboy19

[ae-neon]

Azriel and Nesta plsssss🙏🏾🙏🏾 literally anything

GURL you don't even go here, wtf 😭 anyways here's that leather kinktober nezriel thing I was supposed to do

Illyrian leather was a second skin, soaked in water from the peaks of Ramiel and inlaid with spells so ancient their true meaning was lost, the material transmitted sensation with crystal clarity. The sensitivity allowed for Illyrian warriors to maintain a sense of awareness about air pressure when flying while also providing protection in battle.

It also, Azriel had found, had other uses.

The first had been his gloves, the idea born in the shame of his scarred hands though now they represented a certain comfort.

The second had been occupational, he'd needed to inflict pain without marking the skin of a nobleman of the Court of Nightmares.

The idea had naturally progressed to an exploration of the use of Illyrian leather in his private escapades, though he didn't want to think about what that might say about him.

The use of the leather in this way might be considered uncultured, blasphemous even, but Azriel had no love for Illyrian traditions and, it seemed, such a thing could be bought given the right price.

The tailor had pretended at airs when Azriel had approached him about making Nesta a full suit, unadorned by the usual protective gear and weapons compartments. But his pretentious protests had fallen silent when Azriel named his price.

Now, behind the thick velvet curtain of Azriel's room in the House of Inarus, he drew at the laced seams of Nesta's suit, the almost black leather laid against every curve and dip of her body.

Neither of them could be called talkative but Nesta was quieter than usual, blushing and avoiding eye contact.

It was almost comical given all they'd done together up until this point - inflicted pain and pleasure on one another in more ways than most people knew existed, touched every inch of the others body and seen each other in their most vulnerable forms - but part of what made all this so freeing to Nesta was a sense of modesty that had been ingrained so deeply into her it could not be permanently altered, only temporarily forgotten. A state of mind Azriel had driven her to again and again.

The leather, he knew from experience and from the way she shivered when his hand brushed down her back, amplified sensation to a new wearer - their mind caught off guard by the idea of clothing that felt like air.

He moved his fingers, deliberate and slow, around the curve of her waist and down the soft expanse of her stomach, feeling her muscles tense and loose as she took a shaky breath.

Nesta, they had both learnt, preferred to dominate but when she did allow herself to submit it was with an endearing and intoxicating amount of trust and vulnerability. She gave herself wholly to his guidance. Trusted him to take care of her even when she could no longer stand or speak or think.

Azriel's amber gaze flitted over her to the table of instruments, a part of him revelling in the building anticipation. A part of him mourned that he would not be able to mark her skin but another grew excited that he might be able to go harder than usual...

Tonight she would feel everything again for the first time and, while Azriel enjoyed being on the receiving end of her curious attention, he'd come to enjoy her unravelling just as much.

*

I guess it's limited by the length of a drabble but I finally get to put the leather idea in real words! Thanks for the ask bestie 💚