#where the only goal is to consume more and more and more until there's nothing left

[queenofmoons67]

Shades of Blue: A Warriors Meets the Chain Fic

Summary: Captain Link has an arrow to the thigh when he falls through a portal to another world.

Word Count: 6403

WARNINGS for blood and injury.

Written for @legendoflinkficfight. Many thanks to my beta, @bookdancerfics, and one of the prompters, @savimatteo2810 (the other prompter was myself, lol).

Link stumbles through the forest the best he can with an iron arrow shaft clean through his thigh. Dizziness from blood loss makes the earth tilt and sway beneath him, while every step shoots lightning up his spine and down to his toes, feeding a headache and blurring his vision.

Link grits his teeth and clenches his hands, but that just digs his nails into his palms with tiny pinpricks of pain. He wishes he had his scarf around his neck, warm and comforting and perfect for clenching, but he wrapped it around the arrow and his thigh to stabilize the former and stop the bleeding.

Not that he thinks the scarf is accomplishing either goal. Each step shifts the arrow and widens the wound, letting the arrow shift more on the next step in an endless cycle, while hot wet blood leaks into the makeshift bandage. The fabric is heavy, uncomfortable, and soaking his entire lower leg in blood.

Even though leaving the arrow in isn’t stemming the bleeding as much as Link likes, he knows he’s dead without it, just as he knows each step is slowly killing him. And yet, he has no choice but to keep moving, keep shifting the arrow and widening the wound and letting more blood spill from his body.

He can’t stop. Even as it kills him, moving gives him a chance at finding help; stopping would leave him dead.

Plunging into the trees seemed like a good idea at the time. In the aftermath of the war, Zelda ordered him to investigate different forts, figure out the combat level of the loyal soldiers who survived, and give the physical forts a look over for damage.

This particular fort failed spectacularly: The main gate is one good blow from collapsing and the soldiers somehow missed the roving, remnant band of Ganon’s monsters hauling around a battering ram until the band was nearly at their doorstep.

Most of the monsters, Link left to the fort and her commanders. The battering ram-wielding hinox he lured into the forest to draw it further and further away from the vulnerable fort.

That was when the bokoblin archer hiding behind the hinox’s head revealed itself with an arrow to Link’s thigh.

Link grimaces when his wound throbs, then squints. Is his vision really so bad that the air has started to swirl in front of him?

Link takes another step, and the swirling air caves in around him as he falls. The effect is nauseating but familiar, and Link swallows down the bile rising in his throat. The last thing he needs is to throw up in a nebulous portal all over his open wound. That would guarantee infection for sure.

In a few seconds, the swirling stops, but Link only manages to stay upright for another moment. Then his feet hit the earth, the impact vibrating up his legs and spasming around his injury till he can’t help but crash to the ground.

Link lays there, dazed, before the pain strikes again. It courses through his body in one giant, all-consuming flare and he brings his injured leg up, curling around it and digging his hands into the bloody scarf in an attempt to bring relief. A broken sob falls from his lips.

When he was still walking, he had a plan. A goal. The determination to save himself didn’t keep the pain away, but he thought he had a chance.

Now that he lays on the ground in the fetal position, not knowing where the portal dropped him or if he has the strength to stand again, there’s nothing to distract from the fact he’s likely dying.

That scares him. The idea he could survive an entire war, Cia stalking him, countless assassination attempts, and Ganon himself, only to die now… now, when the war is finally over, Hylia knows how far from his queen and the fort and anyone at all, with no guarantee anyone will ever find his body. 

All of Link’s rationality flees. He digs his hands deeper into his scarf and screams. He screams until his throat hurts and his voice breaks and the tears come, blurring his vision past what the pain had managed alone and painting his tongue with the taste of salt.

It’s been a long time since Link let himself break down. Too many responsibilities, too many lives relying on him as a captain to even think about wasting the time; too many expectations and the need to save face as the hero to ever show weakness; two little brothers hoarding his space, never giving him privacy, looking to him as their big brother for care he would never deny them.

All the tears Link held back during the war flood out now, and they only slow when voices sound in the distance. Link can’t make out what they’re saying yet or whether the words came from monsters.

He forces himself to still, tears still trailing down his cheeks, before using one hand to wipe his eyes and the other to draw a knife from his boot. He has no sword; it’s still stuck through the hinox’s skull—not that it would be much use now anyway, when he doubts he has the strength left to wield it.

“—tellin’ you,” a voice says, suddenly loud enough for Link to make out the words. “I heard somethin’.”

Not monsters. Link sucks in a breath to call out—then hesitates. These people aren’t ‘blins or hinoxes, but what if they’re traitors? The war taught him well that monsters could be Hylian, too.

“Maybe it was Legend’s stomach,” someone else says. The words end with a laugh, then a yelp, and Link’s breath hitches.

“Maybe it was Mask’s snoring,” Tune teased with a laugh, then yelped when the younger boy tackled him to the ground.

That’s Tune’s voice. Link is—the portal took him to—

“Tune,” Link gasps. His voice comes out quiet, his throat torn up and nose clogged from crying, so he coughs, then tries again. “Tune!”

“Y’all heard that, right?” the first voice asks. “Hey—Wind! Time!”

Link doesn’t know why the person is yelling about the wind and time, and he doesn’t care. Instead, he focuses on the cracking of branches underfoot and the rustling of leaves being brushed aside.

Tune is coming. His younger brother is just meters away and within yelling distance for the first time in months.

Link presses his forehead to his good knee and drags in ragged breaths, close to breaking down again. Not in despair, but in relief, because he’s finally found someone—but his entire body trembles as the adrenaline rush of fighting, running, and crying leaves him, and as he trembles, he realizes he also feels faint.

Dehydration. Blood loss. Pain. It would be easier to identify what isn’t wrong with him than to name all the things that are.

But he has to stay focused. If he somehow made it all the way to his little brother just to die in front of him, he’ll never forgive himself.

Groaning, Link lifts his head from his knee just in time to see Tune and a man in full plate armor fall to their knees beside his prone body.

The armored man has a blue eye the same cobalt shade as Mask, and markings the same as the Fierce Deity on a face thirty years Mask’s senior.

“‘M hallucinating,” Link mutters.

Heart falling, he turns his eyes to Tune. The older of his two boys looks so familiar, he’d have believed Tune was really there if not for Mask’s weird visage.

“‘M…”

“Hyrule!” Tune shrieks, making Link grimace. Tune’s voice is definitely the same; it hasn’t broken yet.

The armored man’s brows furrow as he looks Link over—and then he reaches for the scarf and starts unwinding it. Link’s fingers clench and unclench around his knife, but his arm feels like jelly, and he can’t stop the man. Instead, he can only close his eyes and shake his head, grass scraping against his cheek.

“No, no—” he moans. This isn’t possible. If he’s hallucinating, how is the man moving the scarf? If the man is really there, why does he look so much like Mask?

“It’s okay, Captain,” Tune soothes.

A hand touches his free one, and Link opens his eyes to stare at where Tune’s sun-tanned fingers thread together with his own war-callused ones.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Tune continues. His voice breaks on the last word, his hand squeezes tight around Link’s, and he smiles, mouth wobbling. “We’re not lettin’ you go again.”

We.

Link’s gaze flits from Tune to the stranger and back again, before his vision blurs when the unwinding of the scarf jolts the arrow. Overwhelmed by questions and pain, Link can hold on no longer.

His eyes close.

<line break>

“Captain,” Wind says frantically. He squeezes the hand in his impossibly tighter, but there’s no response. “Time—!”

“I know,” Time says. His voice is terse, and he doesn’t look up from the wound. “This is bad, Sailor, I won’t lie. He—”

The undergrowth around them bursts open, spitting out the other Links who trailed them. Wind could have wept from relief.

“Hyrule!” he calls. “Heal him, please, please —”

Arms settle around him, bringing the distinct smell of Twilight’s wolf pelt, and Wind half-turns in his brother’s hold, careful not to let go of the Captain’s hand even as he buries his face deep in the fur that covers Twilight’s chest.

From the corner of his eye, he can see Hyrule’s hands hovering over the wound, his face screwed up in concentration. Four takes hold of the arrow shaft to carefully remove it, and Legend pins a large ruby broach inset in gold to Hyrule’s chest. Time backs out of their way, still holding onto the Captain’s scarf.

The last time Wind saw the scarf, it was clean and beloved, glistening golden hems and royal blue fabric wrapped with care around his brother’s neck. Now, Wind can’t see the gold for all the blood. The scarf is soaked in it.

“He has to live,” he whispers.

Twilight ducks his chin, presses his cheek to the top of Wind’s head, and hums.

“He’s our brother, Twi. He has to live! We only just got him back!”

Wind’s voice rises to a near wail, but he can’t help it. He feels how Twilight’s humming jumps at the word “brother,” and he sees the spray of blood that arcs away from the Captain’s leg when Four finishes removing the arrow, and that’s his brother. His first brother. The one person Wind lets himself act like a kid around, because the Captain needs someone to care for to distract himself and because he doesn’t look down on Wind while doing it.

But Wind left him alone, and now the Captain is bleeding out.

“He can’t die,” Wind sobs. “He can’t die, he can’t die!”

“Rulie’s got him,” Sky soothes. The first knight kneels beside Twilight and reaches out, hand carefully brushing Wind’s bangs away. “Legend gave Rulie a magical boost. Wild’s ready with red potions. They’re doing all they can, Wind, I promise.”

“He’s a Link,” Twilight says, chest rumbling under Wind’s head. “The Sailor and the Old Man know him already, Sky.”

“I gathered.” Sky smiles, but the expression is wan. The first knight never can hide his emotions. “He’s lost a lot of blood, I won’t deny that. Time thinks the arrow nicked an artery, and only leaving the shaft in stayed the bleeding. But Wind—” Sky tucks a knuckle under Wind’s chin and tilts it up till they make eye contact “—Hylia wouldn’t have brought him to us just so he could die. She brought him here so we could save him.”

“You believe that?” Wind asks, breath hiccuping as he speaks.

“I do.”

Wind nods. His cheek wipes against Twilight’s pelt, scrubbing tears away, and he turns his eyes back to the Captain.

The first Link he’s ever known besides himself lays on his back in the grass. Someone has tucked a blanket roll under his head, propping it up, and his hair has been brushed away from his face. Most of his right pant leg is gone, cut away for better access to the arrow and the wound—though Wind himself can’t see it with all the brothers tending to it and blocking his line of sight.

Wind sniffs and sits up. His cheeks burn, and not just from the crying: His brothers just witnessed a breakdown the likes of which proves they’re right to treat him like a kid. The Captain lays dying, and has he done anything useful? No. He’s just cried and made Twilight and Sky take care of him.

“I met the Captain on my second journey,” Wind says. His voice shakes and his lips wobble, his body ready to break down again, but he forges on. He can’t help his brothers medically, but he can give the Captain a decent introduction.

<line break>

Legend’s body aches. They walked all day through Twilight’s world, trying to reach Castle Town before dark, and the arthritis in his joints didn’t enjoy it one bit. He refuses to let his hand tremble, though. Not when it covers a magic storage broach, steadily infusing it with his own magic in preparation for when Hyrule needs it. Not when Hyrule will need it soon to prevent their newest brother from bleeding out into the very dirt they found him in.

None of that prevents his gaze from turning to Wind at the boy’s words.

“I thought this was your second adventure?”

Wind shrugs. “Cap always said the war was no adventure.”

“War?” Sky’s voice rises, which is more generous than Legend’s heart, skipping a beat at the thought of any of his brothers in a war zone, let alone young Wind. Seeing the normally beaming boy break down crying at this captain’s side… Legend can’t imagine him surrounded by death.

“The War of Eras,” Time cuts in, distracting Legend from his thoughts. The old man sits down on Sky’s other side and reaches out with one hand to pat Wind’s knee. “It was always more the Captain’s journey than ours, anyway.”

“Doesn’t feel right to claim it,” Wind agrees. “We were companions, not heroes.”

Legend doesn’t fully understand that. If they were there and fought side by side, how were they not heroes? How is it different from their current quest, full of so many Links they threaten to spill out of each other’s homes?

But any words Legend might say are cut off by a sudden pull under his fingers. Looking down, he sees the ruby begin to glow. Each drop of magic he sank into the broach is pulled into Hyrule’s body before the magic can settle, and from there pushed into Hyrule’s spell. The healer’s eyes are closed, fingers clenched tight on either side of the captain’s injury—but the injury itself, a circular wound the size of a rupee, finally begins to close.

Legend’s breath leaves him in a rush. Across from him, Sky smiles and, laughing giddily, nudges Wind.

“Look!” the chosen hero says. “I told you he’d be ok.”

The smile Wind offers in return isn’t as big as Sky’s, but it’s there. Their youngest collapses back into Twilight’s chest, fingers still tight around the captain’s.

Legend bites the inside of his lip and shares a worried look with Time. Just because the wound has closed doesn’t mean Link will be okay.

They have a long way to go still.

<line break>

Link’s body rocks in a familiar motion, back and forth and side to side, even while he himself lies flat. His head lolls, chin to chest, and his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he fights to see what’s around him.

Last he remembers, he was lost in the woods and near death. Dying, in all likelihood, when Tune and Mask visited him—or, he realizes with a pang, they didn’t. Their odd visages were probably the result of wanting to see his brothers again and being found by someone else, people whose faces were overlaid by that of his brothers.

The question is, are they ally or foe?

Link fights again to open his eyes and groans when he finally succeeds, the light piercing right through him. Squinting blearily into it, determined to know his current circumstances, Link makes out a fur pelt overhead. It flaps against a strong, broad back, occasionally wafting a cooling breeze over Link’s face.

The stranger’s arms flex, each hand lifting a long, horizontal pole higher while he adjusts his grip, and Link’s head raises at the same time, rocking his view and making him nauseous. He squeezes his eyes shut and balls his hands into what feels like a blanket wrapped around him.

He knows now why the rocking motion is familiar: It’s the same motion he learned during the War when he was carried off the battlefield, too injured to walk on his own, and laid instead on a stretcher stinking of other men’s blood.

He learned the motion on the opposite side, too; gripped the stretcher handles with all the strength left in him after hours of battle and refused to let go till all of his injured soldiers were off the battlefield and his hands were raw from broken blisters.

That Link is on a stretcher now is a good sign, but the stranger bears no emblem. Link can’t be sure he’s safe yet.

Groaning, he once again opens his eyes. He hasn’t seen who holds the other end of the stretcher yet. They might—

A strange face looms into view. The person is Hylian, long ears pointing out from under tight brown curls, and a smile splits his face when his eyes meet Link’s.

“You’re awake!” he exclaims. “That’s great, Wind and Time have been so worried—”

Link doesn’t know who Wind and Time are, and he doesn’t care. All of his attention is on the old-fashioned sigil of Hyrule on the clasp holding the man’s white cape in place.

Most traitors look like any other soldiers. They come out of nowhere, either suddenly possessed by Ganon’s magic or having been hiding their true intentions.

But some traitors boast of it. They come to court and petition the queen to have Link punished, by whip or exile or death. They have dinner with other nobles, plying them with expensive gifts to try and turn them.

Almost always, these traitors wear old sigils of Hyrule to signal the country was better in ages past and that she will be again once the queen is their puppet.

Sigils just like the one this white-caped stranger bears.

Link doesn’t have the breath to shout. Instead, he rolls with the rocking motion and tumbles right off the stretcher. He tries to catch himself on his hands and knees, but his thigh screams when he hits the dirt and he sprawls forward instead, desperate to take the pressure off.

Then he rolls again, trying to give himself distance from the steel-capped boots around him. The traitors are all yelling, but Link can’t tell what they’re saying; he’s too busy fighting the pain in his thigh and his once again nauseous stomach, digging his fingers into the harsh bark of the tree next to him and heaving himself to his feet—

Link’s hand slips.

A traitor with Tune’s ocean-blue eyes catches him.

Link’s chest heaves, fighting for breath while the rest of him rests frozen in the traitor’s hold. Then the arms encircling him tense, pulling him closer to the traitor, and Link snaps out of it.

“No!” He thrashes and shoves against the Tune lookalike with open-palmed hands, fingers bent inwards for max power and protection, but his arms are like chuchus and the traitor barely rocks on his feet.

“Captain! It’s okay, Captain!” The voice comes from Link’s blindspot, gruff and commanding, but Link doesn’t listen.

“Traitor!” he hisses instead. He goes limp in the Tune lookalike’s arms, hoping to drag them both down, but his plan backfires: The traitor tightens his grip.

“Let’s get you back on the stretcher, okay?” Hylia above, the traitor even sounds like Tune. Just like the boy he imagined before he passed out.

“You dare?” Link tries to sound threatening, but his voice catches, and he barely manages to rasp the last word.

All the screaming and crying has torn his throat to shreds. Still, he fights on, outrage burning like wildfire in his chest.

“You dare? Use his face? His—his eyes?” Link claws at the visage above him. The traitor jerks back, and voices rise around them.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Hands grab him by the shoulders and haul him around, tossing him to the ground. Link’s heart rises in his throat, expecting a rough landing, but other hands catch him, then lay him on a soft surface—the stretcher, he realizes. He’s right back where he started.

“And stay there!” the same voice snarls. Hands press Link down at the shoulders and ankles, burning like brands instead of the shackles they are. Even without testing their grip, he knows he’s stuck; the first escape attempt sapped all the strength he’d had. His breath comes in gasps, now, and he can only weakly twitch in protest.

“Was that really necessary, Vet?” someone asks. His voice comes in a drawl, exasperated, and he leans over Link’s head while he talks.

Link has only seen this man from the back before, but he sees the pelt clasped around the man’s throat and knows he’s one of the traitors who was carrying him. It’s strange; Link would expect the manual labor to be ordered to underlings, soldiers instead of nobles—an expectation supported by this traitor’s farm clothing—but he has no problem questioning someone else.

“He attacked Wind,” Vet says. “Was I supposed to just let the sailor get his eyes clawed out?”

“Hey, I’d look cool in an eye patch.”

“That is so not the point.”

“Hey,” Wolf Pelt says. His voice is soft, blue eyes on Link’s. “You good, buddy?” He raises his voice. “How’s his leg look?”

Cloth rustles, then Link’s leg burns. He cries out, a garbled, no-words sound, and panicked strength rushes through him. Jolting against Wolf Pelt’s heavy hold, he reaches for his thigh, only to be intercepted by a traitor grabbing his hands.

“You attack Rulie, and I really will put you down,” Vet warns.

“Ledge,” Wolf Pelt says.

“What? I’m giving him fair warning.” Link is too distracted to catch their next words. Despite the Vet’s harsh tone, he hasn’t let go of Link’s hands. In fact, he squeezes them intermittently, in time with each throb of Rulie inspecting Link’s wound. Tune’s lookalike has come up beside him, too, a worried look on his face.

Worried for who? His traitorous companions? Their plan? Link assumes they have one; most traitors aim to eliminate Link in some way, to separate him from the queen or kill him outright. This… caring for a wound they didn’t even cause, kidnapping him, it’s all new territory. They must need him alive for some reason, but why? Will they ransom him? Hold him captive as a bargaining chip?

“He’ll live,” a new voice says, pulling Link from his thoughts. “As long as he stays off the leg. He’s lucky it didn’t break open when he hit the ground.”

“Thanks, Rule,” the gruff voice from before says. “Twi, Sky—you have him?”

“He’s not goin’ anywhere,” Wolf Pelt confirms.

A beat passes, and then two familiar faces appear over Link. They’re on the opposite side of him as Rulie—Rule? The first sounds like a more familial name—and Vet. Between the four of them and the two holding him down, they have Link surrounded. But even if they let up on the restraints and he regained his strength, he couldn’t move.

Once upon a time, Link knew the new faces staring down at him better than he knew his own. Those ocean-blue eyes and sun-bleached hair, cheeks plump with baby fat and lips chapped from salt-spray; a cobalt eye older than the face it belongs to and red markings that last longer and longer every time.

The traitors have done their research, Link will give them that. But not enough. Somewhere, somehow, they missed a key factor: Tune is still a pre-teen. He hasn’t yet gained the muscle this teenager has, or the scar that snakes across his collarbone. And Mask… dear Mask is just a boy. Hip-height at best, small enough that Link used to carry him piggyback on long campaign treks, not like this tall, armor-clad stranger who resembles the Fierce Deity more than Mask.

Link grins at them. The expression is small and still takes all his strength, but it settles something inside him, like putting on a mask of his own. It’s not the one he wears in court, put-on accent of a noble and make-up to cover his scars, and it’s not the one he wears on the battlefield, back so straight it hurts and scarf a banner across his shoulders. The grin is bared teeth and sneer, tear tracks and defiance.

“So what’s the plan?” he rasps. “Zelda didn’t cave to Cia, and you think—you think she’ll listen to you? Some two-bit traitors who have—have captured a hero no longer needed? I’m—” Link coughs, then forces out, “—I’m out of date. Expendable. Hylia, I’m a mere captain. Good luck getting anything for me.”

No one says anything. Link thinks they might look shocked, faces drained of blood and eyes wide. He relaxes back into the stretcher, tirade done and feeling faint again, even as a smug pride fills him at their expressions.

Then Vet speaks. “And I thought I had issues.” Something contracts around Link’s hands and he looks down, surprised. The traitor is still holding them. “Link, we’re not traitors. We’re—” he makes a face “—ugh, we’re heroes. You know Wind and Time, right? You recognize them?”

Link snorts. “If they got hit by a wizzrobe, maybe.”

“What?” someone mutters. It’s a new voice, outside of the circle, and Link’s heart spasms. There’s more of them?

Tune’s lookalike jerks, though, eyes widening, and he elbows the traitor impersonating Mask. “It’s your fault,” he says, then, “Capt’n, I swear it’s us. Mask just grew thirty years in one.”

“Sense, Wind,” Vet mutters. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Mask’s lookalike shakes his head, but his voice is gentle when he says, “It’s been years for me, Captain. Decades. But I’m still me. I’m still that same boy you taught how to meditate and find calm after battle.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

“I—” the traitor hesitates. “Remember when it was just you and me? Before Tune arrived, before you had guards on your tent? And I—I had trouble sleeping during the full moon. You taught me a lullaby. You said Proxi taught you, when you’d just been promoted.”

Link’s eyes are wide by the time Mask’s lookalike finishes. No one knew that. He hadn’t even told Proxi he’d taught Mask, and when Tune joined them, Mask was too embarrassed to use the lullaby in front of the other boy.

“Okay,” he says, and this time the rasp has nothing to do with his torn-up throat and everything to do with the potential staring down at him with ocean-blue and cobalt eyes. “Say—” he coughs “—say you are them. Why are you with traitors? Are you in danger? What—”

Link coughs again, and this time, he can’t stop. His chest shakes and he curls into himself as best he can, stomach aching and thigh throbbing, but though the hands holding him down loosen, they don’t let go.

“You’re fine,” Rule soothes. A hand pets his side. “Breathe, Link. It’ll pass.”

Link tries to follow the instructions, but it’s hard. Each breath scrapes against his raw throat, agitating it, and tears sting his eyes as the shake of his body worsens the ache and throb until they’re all encompassing.

“Sit him up,” a distant voice says. “Slow down for me, Link, slow down. One breath at a time.”

“What’s happening?” another voice says. Young. Panicked. Tune. No—the imposter.

“He’s exhausted,” the first voice says, as hands grasp Link under the armpits and heave him upright. “It—his body is just reacting, but he can’t control it. This is too much.”

Control, Link thinks dizzily. Can’t lose control. Can’t let loose with his battle magic, or he’ll hurt his comrades. He has to be strong. In command. Can’t let Cia see his fear, can’t let the generals or the soldiers or Zelda or his brothers.

Brothers. Are the lookalikes imposters? Or are they his brothers, forced to watch him succumb to his own body?

Light dancing across Link’s vision is the last thing he sees before he passes out.

<line break>

“Captain?” Wind asks. He fists his hands by the Captain’s side, leaning forward desperately to try and catch his eye. “Captain!”

“He’s out,” Legend reports. He switches his hold and lays two fingers across Link’s wrist, right at his pulse point.

“His breathin’ is evenin’ out, though,” Twilight says. “Might’ve been for the best.” He pauses, then adds, “Why’d he think we were traitors, anyway? Just cause ya’ll look different?”

Time shakes his head. “He tried to escape after seeing Sky, not us.”

All eyes turn to the chosen hero, who holds his hands up and backs away. He stayed out of the way during the whole kerfuffle, no doubt not wanting to set the Captain off again, but Wind narrows his eyes now and wonders if something else was behind the decision.

“Do you know him?” he demands.

“What? No!” Sky says. “I’ve never seen him before today.”

“Maybe it was just his first thought?” Four suggests. He and Wild stand behind Hyrule and Legend, not enough room in the circle for the whole group, but now that the Captain isn’t trying to get away, they’ve edged forwards.

“Has he had run-ins with traitors before?” Wild signs.

Time and Wind grimace.

“More like who hasn’t been a traitor,” Wind mutters angrily. “The War was full of ‘em, and every single one wanted to assassinate Cap.”

“Well, I dunno about you all,” Legend says, “but if I was alone and dying in the woods, didn’t know my rescuers, and Sky’s face was the first one I saw, I’d probably run too.”

“Hey!” Sky squawks, but Wind’s shoulders relax when he snorts and Time heaves a sigh, breathing settling.

“Yeah, yeah, Sky’s terrifyin’,” Twilight nods sagely. “Shouldn’t we move while we can, though?” He’s pulled his hands back from Link’s shoulders, one now resting on his head and the other already holding one pole of the stretcher—well, stretcher is a kind word for it. Wild pulled his paraglider from the slate and they repurposed it, for lack of anything better and not wanting to waste time hunting for suitable branches.

“You both good to keep carrying?” Time looks between Twilight and Legend. The rancher grins and flexes, and the vet readjusts his power bracelets.

“I could carry any of you all day,” Legend says.

“And it’s much appreciated,” Hyrule replies sweetly, patting his now blushing predecessor on the shoulder while the others grin.

Wind’s not quite ready to laugh yet. He’s too worried about the Captain, the image of his oldest brother trying to push him away and escape, injured leg and blood loss be damned burned into his memory right next to Link’s narrowed, angry eyes.

He tries to comfort himself with the reminder the Captain was angry for him. Link thought someone was tarnishing his legacy.

“Ready?” Twilight says. “On three. One, two, three—” He and Legend lift the stretcher with ease, Hyrule and Time keeping Link steady.

“I’ll take point again,” Four offers.

“I’m rear guard,” Wild signs.

Wind starts toward his position to Link’s right, but stops when his boot kicks soft fabric instead of leaves. He looks down, then stoops immediately, grabbing the Captain’s scarf off the forest floor. It must have fallen when Link made his escape attempt.

Brushing it clean—or at least, as clean as he can, when it’s still stiff from dried blood—Wind hurries after his brothers. It’s time they got the Captain to a town and a proper doctor.

<line break>

Legend watches the captain while he walks, taking careful note of each finger twitch. Link surprised them last time; Legend won’t let it happen again. Wind nearly got hurt physically, and they all got hurt emotionally, having to restrain one of their own and then watch as he verbally tore into Wind and Time.

Just because Legend is willing to do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe doesn’t mean he enjoys it, no matter what his companions think. No—he’d much rather not be in that situation at all. Especially not when it caused Link to panic.

Legend grimaces. Sure, Link couldn’t control the coughing attack. But he knows the imagined traitors didn’t help. If he was in the captain’s shoes, badly injured and surrounded by knights…

Legend shakes his head. The only knights around him are his brothers, and they would sooner stand with him than let him be arrested. He’s sure this new Link will be the same way once he knows who they are, overprotective and self-sacrificing, even when he doesn’t need to be. Link’s words sure said he would be. What was it he said, when he thought Wind and Time might be telling the truth?

‘Are you in danger?’

Lying on a stretcher, still close to death and surrounded by people he thought wished him harm, the captain’s first instinct was to find out if his brothers needed help.

He’ll fit in fine, Legend thinks—then his eyes spot royal blue, just slits under the captain’s eyelids but still betrayed by the setting sun catching them just right.

“Oi, Wind,” he calls, eyes never leaving Link’s. “Want to reassure the good captain we’re the good guys?”

Link’s eyes widen, staring openly at Legend now, but he doesn’t try to move more than that. Learned his lesson about moving too fast too soon, Legend hopes. Last thing he wants is to have to pin him to the stretcher again.

Then Wind collides with the side of the stretcher, and Legend curses.

“Hey!” he snaps. “Careful!”

Wind ignores him. All the boy’s focus is on the captain—not that Legend can blame him.

“Link!” Wind gasps. “You’re awake! How do you feel? Do you still think we’re traitors? We’re not, I promise—look, I even grabbed your scarf!” He grabs the fabric he’d lain over the captain’s prone body earlier, holding it up like the fact they hadn’t left it behind is proof they’re trustworthy.

Link opens his mouth—

Then Hyrule cuts in from where he’s been walking alongside the stretcher, holding a water skin to Link’s mouth and ordering, “Drink. It’ll soothe your throat; no more coughing fits like the last one, okay?”

The look the captain gives the water skin is the same one he gave Time earlier, distrust written into every furrow of his brow and the tilt of his mouth.

“Oh, drink it,” Legend snaps. “If we wanted you dead, we’d have just left you in the dirt.”

“There are other advantages to poison,” Link rasps, but he drinks, so Legend will call it a win.

Even if it did earn him a scandalized look from Time, who joined them just in time to overhear.

“Say you are them,” Link says. His eyes are on Time and Wind now, still distrustful, but voice stronger and body relaxed. “Are we safe? Who—” his voice lowers “—the man in the white cloak. Who is he?”

Twilight stops, then grunts when Legend accidentally rams the stretcher into his back.

“Wait, wait wait,” Twilight says, craning his head around. “All that was about Sky?”

“He wears the traitor’s sigil,” Link says. “Who is he?”

Time looks mystified. “The traitors have a sigil now?”

“Of old Hyrule,” Link confirms.

“You’re joking, right?” Wind asks. “You—oh, for fuck’s sake. Okay. Hey, Sky? Bring the Master Sword over here.”

It’s a sign of how serious everyone is that no one rebukes Wind for cursing. Instead, they all close in again.

Sky doesn’t wait till he gets to them. The Master Sword rings out when he draws her, and Legend thinks she might understand her current purpose when warm magic brushes through his hair, as soothing as his uncle’s hand, before washing over the captain with a shimmer.

Legend thought Link was relaxed before, but under the Master Sword’s protective blanket, the last bit of tension finally eases away and he melts into the stretcher.

“Will you let her tell us your hero name?” Sky asks. He holds the sword out hilt first, gloved hands gripping her blade.

It would be the work of moments for Link to grab the hilt and shove the blade back at Sky. He might even do it fast enough to push through the pain of the Master Sword burning him for turning her against her first wielder, fast enough to wound someone he believes is a traitor and then run, leaving the Chain scrambling around Sky.

The possibility flits through Legend’s mind in the second it takes the captain to reach out, grasp the Master Sword’s hilt in a practiced grip, and close his eyes. Together, Legend and Link breathe out.

“Warriors,” the captain says. “I’m the hero of Warriors.” Opening his eyes, he smiles at them.

It’s the first time Legend has seen his new brother smile. Warriors’ face is covered in bloody smears cut through with tear tracks, his skin wan from blood loss and tight with pain, but when the worry disappears and he smiles, Legend feels like he’s seeing him for the first time. Not bleeding out in the dirt, Wind crying and Time fighting to stay calm. Not splayed out on the stretcher, believing himself a captive.

Here. Now. Letting the Master Sword go without a thought and folding his arms around Wind when the boy tugs him into a hug, wheezing a laugh when Time pulls them both close.

He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s with family.

[shittybundaskenyer]

And they ask me // Is it going good in the garden? // I say I'm lost but I beg no pardon

[onlyhereforthestories]

Tell Me Some Things Last (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Sorry I didn't get this out yesterday! Hope you enjoy 😊

Take my mind take my pain like an empty bottle takes the rain and heal

Pain. That’s all you could feel, pain. And not even physical pain, it’s the kind of pain that consumes your mind and leaves you empty. When they said break ups could literally bring you to your knees you didn’t realise how true they were. Christen had literally just torn you to pieces without much more thought than “It’s just not what I want anymore y/n.” You wished you could say you saw it coming you really did but you didn’t. Up until the words came out of her mouth you thought you were both happy.

You didn’t have anywhere to go; the weather was damp and dark, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You sat on a bench in a park not far from your now ex’s apartment soaking in the rain as it fell. You wanted nothing more for this pain to stop, to fade into the background so you could breathe again. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop or fade it just sat there on your chest like it never wanted to leave.

You weren’t sure how long passed but you knew it was a significantly long period of time, the night had settled in, and the clouds had grown stormier. When the crack of thunder started was when you got up to leave, you were already soaked to the bone and shaking, not that you really cared. A fleeting thought that scared you to your core, that closed off mindless feeling was something you didn’t want to fall back into.

But you were, you could feel it.

Take my past and take my sins, like an empty sail takes the wind and heal

6 months passed pretty quickly after Christen broke up with you, when you go through the days on autopilot its quite easy to get swept along without a care. You woke up, ate breakfast, had training, ate lunch, had strength sessions and then went home to have dinner and sleep before repeating it again.

Game days were the hardest for you, it was the main time you had to interact with her. Goals were celebrated and team huddles were a thing that you couldn’t avoid like at training. You were pretty stoic on the field anyway, so your current wall wasn’t too different to your game face which meant that the fans didn’t really pick up on your change in mood and behaviour. You were playing each game as a means to the end now, you had put in to be transferred as soon as the breakup had happened, and you had found out that you had gotten a few offers yesterday in a meeting with your manager.

You had yet to find out who the offers were from, but you were just happy to be getting away from the current climate you were a part of. You really wanted to leave the past where it is now, you wanted to get out of here and never look back. You hoped with everything you were that leaving here, leaving all this in the past would help you move on from her. That it would help you heal.

And tell me some things last

It was your final game, no one knew it yet, but you did. It was the first time you had felt joy going into a game and you wanted to leave the fans with something to remember you by. They were always so supportive and if it weren’t for Christen and the situation with her you wouldn’t be leaving them.

Football has been all you’ve had in the last 4 month; it has been the only constant and the fans had given you the push you needed to keep going. You knew football would always be something that lasts for you.

And tell me some things last

You won the game; you had scored a goal too just to top it off. You were doing a slow lap of the pitch interacting with as many fans as you could and signing everything possible. You had lost your top and your cleats along the way not that you cared, you wouldn’t need the jersey anyway. You didn’t want to keep it; you didn’t want to remember they end of your time at this club you just wanted to move on.

You were nearing the tunnel when a young girl called your name, she had a shirt with your name on in her hands and she was bouncing on her toes as you made eye contact with her. you headed in her direction and signed her shirt, she asked for a photo so you hooked your hands under her arms and placed her on your hip so her guardians could snap the photo. You were chatting to her about the game and where she plays when she caught you off guard, “Where are you leaving to?”

You stood shocked with the girl who could only have been 7 sitting looking at you, none of your teammates had picked up on your slight change in behaviour or your hesitation to leave the field but this little girl had. They do say kids pick up on everything. “How do you know I won’t be playing here anymore?” You gave her a little tickle to let her know she wasn’t in trouble for asking.

“You have stayed out here with us for so long, that normally only happens when someone is saying goodbye without actually saying it.” you shook your head slightly with a smile and gave the girl a squeeze.

You walked her back over to where she watched the game and handed her back, just before you gave her back you whispered in her ear. “Don’t tell anyone but you will see me in Spain next season.” You pulled back with a small wink and watched as the little girl beamed at you wishing you luck and telling you hopefully, she’ll be able to see you play again soon.

You quickly got who you found out to be her aunt’s email so you could make sure that you could make that come true for the girl.

Take my heart and take my hand like an ocean takes the dirty sands and heal

Barcelona had been good for you the moment your plane landed on the tarmac, the sun shining down on you making your body feel warm for probably the first time in 6 months. You had 2 weeks to settle in and explore the city before preseason started and you would have to get used to being a teammate again.

You spent the 2 weeks being a tourist and learning some of the language, you went to all the spots you got told were tourist traps, you tried loads of different local foods and explored the coffee shops around your apartment.

Before you knew it you were putting on your training kit and getting ready to be introduced as the latest member of the Culers. You had just done all your management stuff like contracts and photos with the president which meant you were meeting the team a little into their training session.

You walked out into the sunshine and strolled up to Jona on the side lines. He shook your hand and called all the girls in to introduce you, which you did before he could. “Hola chicas, I’m y/n and I am honoured to get to play alongside you for the next hopefully few seasons. I am sorry about my lack of Spanish I am working on it but for now bear with me.”

You looked round the group of smiling women, you recognised pretty much all of them, but you made a mental note to make sure you interact with Keira, Lucy and Frida as you knew they spoke your native language. What shocked you was your reaction to locking eyes with beautiful brown ones that held such a soft look towards you. You could feel your body tingle with something you haven’t felt in a long time and that was really scary.

Alexia stepped towards you to introduce herself properly, taking her captain duties properly as well as the fact that she felt a pull towards you. She reached out and took your hand in a soft handshake as she welcomed you to her hometown club.

Take my mind take my pain like an empty bottle takes the rain and heal

You had been playing in Barcelona for 6 months now, and you could quite honestly say it had been the best 6 months of not only your life but your career too. Everything just felt right, you were playing the best you ever had, you worked well with everyone on the team, and you weren’t missing your old life.

What was holding you back was your past, more specifically the pain you still felt lingering in your heart when you saw Christen and Tobin’s relationship plastered over the internet. You weren’t jealous, you really weren’t, you had not loved Christen for a long while now. The pain was caused by the fact that you never let yourself talk about what happened, never found out what you did to make Christen not love you anymore.

You had been pretty good at keeping your mind off of it when you were with the team until today. You found yourself alone in the changing rooms after a pretty long training day or so you thought, you heard muffled voices coming from the toilets and picked up on Frida’s voice. You had no idea who she was talking too, and you were going to pick up your stuff and leave unit you heard the name you had been avoiding.

“Have you seen Christen and Tobin’s post. I really admire them for the way they have slowly introduced their relationship to the world without actually announcing it. it makes you wonder how long they have been together doesn’t it…” You stopped listening after that, the sentence piercing your heart. You grabbed your stuff and bolted to the door; you could feel the tears starting to fall before you could even get out of the changing rooms. As you pushed at the door it was pulled from the other side and you almost ran into Alexia. She managed to catch your shoulders with her hands before you could topple the both of you over, she went to speak but stopped as soon as you looked up at her.

The sight broke her heart, you looked so broken. Without saying anything she whipped the tears from your face and reached for your hand, which you let her do and followed behind her as she dragged you out of the facility and into her car.

You stared out the window as she drove, you weren’t sure where you were going but at this moment you didn’t care. You just wanted to get away from any talk of your ex and her perfect relationship.

When Alexia pulled the car up and got out you were slightly confused, you could see the beach from the car window, and you felt the weight on your chest already starting to lift. You were so caught up in your thoughts that Alexia got to your car door before you could even think about opening it.

“Come on let go walk.” She holds out her hand in front of you and you didn’t hesitate to take it. She pulled you out of the car and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go and walking towards the crashing waves.

The two of you walked side by side for about 20 minutes before you spoke up. “Christen is my ex, she wasn’t with Tobin a year ago she was with me, or so I think. She broke up with me because she just didn’t feel anything for me anymore, like you can just suddenly not love someone. I haven’t spoken about this with anyone because we never told anyone outside her family, she didn’t want to. Maybe that should have been my first warning sign. Looking back on it now, I know it wasn’t a relationship that was going to last, but I still gave her my all and I have no idea what I did wrong. What I did for her to not love me, for it not to last.”

Alexia let you speak; she waited as you paused to think about the next thing you wanted to say and then continued to listen when you carried on speaking. She sat down next to you when you took a seat after you’d said all you needed to say, and she just sat there while you processed it all. After about 10 minutes of silently listening to the waves you turned to the slightly older woman, “Thank you.”

“You have nothing to thank me for.” The reply made your lips quirk up, of course she plays down her importance in this current moment.

“I have everything to thank you for. You have listened to me spill my shit, you have taken time out of your day to take me away from the situation earlier without a thought or knowing why I wasn’t okay. And you haven’t left, you’ve stayed.” You reached out and grabbed her hand hoping to get her to really listen to how thankful you are for her right now.

She moved her hand around a littler to interlace your fingers. “I would do a lot for you and that is all I’m going to say for now. But just know that there is more to that statement and that when you are ready, I will tell you.” You could feel your cheeks heating up. You knew your attraction to the Spanish superstar was there but having that conversation right after crying over an ex probably wasn’t the best idea. No matter how over that woman you were.

You sat on the beach with the woman you were sure would be a major part of your future for a little while longer, soaking in the setting sun hand in hand until the time came for her to take you home.

And tell me some things last

The Champions League quarter final second leg was fast approaching, and you were nervous. You had played at the Camp Nou stadium a few times now but this game you felt those added nervous of such a big crowd. The first leg hadn’t quite gone as you had all hoped and that meant that there was a less confident energy going into this one.

You were also nervous because your special guests were coming today, you had managed to arrange for Lyla the little girl from your final game at your previous club to be here today. You had even managed to get her to be a mascot too which you had to thank Alexia for, she was the main one to ask the organisers. You had been in contact with her aunt all day and so you knew that she was here and ready to go being as the game was due to start any moment and you needed to walk out.

You walked out of the changing room last like always, head down and mind focused until you heard the excited squeal of your name, “Y/n, Y/n I missed you.” Before you could even think the slightly taller than the last time you saw her girl was throwing herself at you. You managed to catch her under the arms and swing her up onto your hip as you returned the sentiment.

You spoke to her for a small second whilst the rest of the team got ready and waited for the ref’s signal to walk onto the pitch. What you didn’t see was the way Alexia was looking back at you and your interaction with the girl you had flown half a world to see you.

The game had gone pretty much perfectly this time, the only annoyance being that you couldn’t keep a clean sheet. You were walking along clapping the fans with Lucy and Keira when you saw Lyla jumping and waving your way from her place with her aunt, you were quick to excuse yourself and head over.

“Hola chica.” You sent her a little wink at your use of your currents homes language which had the girl giggling “how did you enjoy the game? Pretty cool stadium, right?”

The girls toothy grin and vigorous head nod started her positive answer. “Si.” You cut her off a little with a laugh of your own at that answer. “It was so good; I have never been to a place this big! And you play amazing. You really like it here, don’t you?”

Instead of talking up to her over the barrier you signalled to her aunt to make sure it was okay to get her down on the pitch with you. When you got permission, her aunt helped you get her down and said to go have fun, you told her you’d bring her back in a little while. Grabbing her hand, you dragged her along with you as you listened to all she wanted to say about the game. “… Watching Alexia in person was super cool too. She is soooooo good.” You couldn’t help but agree with the girl, she was something else on the pitch.

“Would you like to come meet some of the girls?” The nod you got in return was again vigorous and so you tugged her in the direction of where you had left Lucy and Keira not even 5 minutes ago.

After introducing Lyla to most of the team there was one final person left. Alexia had been on media duty so you could only hope she would be done and in the changing room for you to introduce Lyla to. You quickly ran over to her aunt to make sure she knew where you were going before leading the small girl through the tunnel.

You poked your head into the training room to find the woman you were looking for in a state of dress that had your heartbeat spiking. Swallowing quickly and blinking a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming, you averted your eyes slightly and spoke, “Hey Ale I have someone that wants to meet you is that okay?” Alexia’s head whipped round at your voice, and you saw the blush rise up her cheeks as she realised you were seeing her in her sports bra. Not that this was the first time, but it was on your (well pretty much) own and after the beach.

You stepped back into the hall when she told you she would love to, but she just needed a second and waited for her to be ready. Before you could even start a conversation with Lyla the door was swinging back open, and Alexia was dressed in her tracksuit. You were a little shocked when Lyla started hiding behind you a little bit as this was the person she was most excited to meet.

“Ale this is Lyla, she my favourite fan from back in the States. Lyla this is Alexia the best midfielder in the world.” Alexia bent down to Lyla’s height and kept a little space between them before she spoke to her. You spent a good 10 minutes listening to the two girls speak before the rest of the team filtered into the changing room cutting your time short. Lyla said goodbye to the team and you along with Alexia walked her back out into the rapidly emptying crowd, those that were left cheered your names as you entered.

You slowed your pace as you got closer to letting Lyla go, you really did hate goodbyes. Alexia could see your hesitance; she couldn’t tell why you were so reluctant to let the little one go but she could tell it was really playing on you. She reached behind you and rested her hand on the middle of your back, rubbing small slow circles there as you lifted Lyla over the barrier.

After saying goodbye and getting changed you grabbed Alexia’s hand and pulled her along behind you and out to her car. Without questioning it Alexia opened it and let you settle yourself into her passenger seat while she put the bags in the back and got behind the wheel. Deciding that taking you home right now wasn’t what you needed or what she wanted she made the decision to take you back to your spot.

You were not paying attention to where the woman you cared very much about was taking you, you were just lost in your current thoughts and feelings about saying goodbye. It was only when the vehicle stopped that you realised just what the Spanish superstar had done, you were back at the beach by your spot. She didn’t wait for you to say anything just got out and came round to open your door.

You didn’t hesitate to take the hand she offered you when the door was wide open, and you slightly shocked the woman when you held on tighter when you were stood up straight. You gave her hand a squeeze and sent her a small smile that had her grinning and tugging you from your linked hands towards the shore.

You sat yourself against a rock by the shoreline and patted the open space between your legs which Alexia happily sat in, she was a little more hesitant to lean back but didn’t resist you when you lightly tugged her shoulders. The two of you sat there for a little while before you found yourself speaking.

“Thank you for earlier, I really needed the comfort of your presence there to say goodbye.” When Alexia turned her head to you with a questioning look you knew it was a subtle way to ask but also let you know you didn’t have to explain but you wanted to. “She was the last link I had to my first home; she was the final goodbye. That place was where I had my first love, where I got my career started and where all the pain came from. Pain that I think I’m finally over and healing from. Pain that I won’t now let stop me from saying I’m ready if you still are.”

You felt Alexia relax even more into you and you were incredibly happy to feel her hands snake into yours. Neither of you needed to say anything more about it right now, this moment was for basking in the possibilities and future you were about to start.

And tell me some things last

It had been about 2 weeks since you had told Alexia that you were ready to see what could happen between the two of you. Not a lot had really gone on other than an increase in the time you spent together as well as the thoughts you were having. Whenever you were with the Spanish woman you couldn’t help where your mind ran to, the kisses you imagined and the future you could really start to see coming.

So when Alexia asked you to pick her up for training on morning you were secretly hoping that meant some more time together. You pulled up outside her flat with about 20 minutes to spare so decided to go up with the coffees you had got for her. Knocking on her door you patiently waited for the woman inside to answer and when she did you were in a state of shock and awe. Alexia was stood in her sports bra and training joggers, hair tied back and signature Nike band pulling her baby hairs back and out of her face. It took you a moment to compose yourself and drag your eyes away from her exposed torso something she could not help but notice and tease you about. “Like something you see love?”

You exaggerated the wink you sent her way which had the woman full on belly laughing as she let you in and followed behind you as you made it into the kitchen. You set both cups down onto the side and spun to face the still semi dressed beauty, you mind was going a mile a minute over the sight and all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around her waist and kiss her.

Alexia could see your mind working, she could see your thoughts spinning round your head and she was so ready to hear what they were. Deciding you both had been dancing around this for long enough she took a small step towards you and asked the question she wanted the answer too. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

You snapped your eyes to lock with her gaze, a gaze that was soft and reassuring and all you needed to take that leap. “You and how much I want to kiss you right now but I don’t want to push if you aren’t ready yet I know…” you were cut off by the lips you have been dreaming about.

You wrapped your arms around the slightly older woman’s waist and pulled her closer to you, you brushed your hands up and down her sides as you deepened the kiss something that sent a shiver down Alexia’s spine and a sigh to leave her lips as you both briefly pulled back for air. You weren’t ready for this moment to be over and you wanted to commit more to memory so you lent back in and connected your lips with hers again for a slow kiss.

Alexia pulled back once air was once again needed but she didn’t go far, she rested her forehead against yours and rubbed her thumb over the base of your neck where she had her hands rested. You both just stood there in her kitchen soaking up the moment, committing it to memory and dreaming about what else was to come.

You broke the quiet moment by pressing a small peck to her lips and asking the question you have been wanting to ask for the last couple weeks. “Will you go on a proper date with me? I would like to take you out before I ask the next question I really want to ask you.” Alexia quirked her eyebrow at the cryptic nature of your question but decided to just answer the one she could and wanted to.

“Of course I will go out with you properly. There is nothing I want more.” She went to press a kiss to your lips or so you thought. You closed your eyes as she got close only to feel her press against you for a second before all the warmth of her was gone causing your eyes to spring open. She had grabbed her coffee and was walking towards her bedroom with an extra swing to her hips.

She was going to be the death of you and you both knew it.

And tell me some things last

The last few months had been amazing for you and your newfound love. Alexia had treated you to a fair few date nights and you had managed to get the woman to come over for some homecooked meals. It had been the perfect start to what you hoped would be your forever.

Alexia had excused herself from you now normal Thursday evening plans of dinner and a movie to spend some much-needed time with Mapi which you were more than okay with. It gave you the chance to spend some time with Lucy and Keira ahead of your birthday.

Your English teammates took you out to a fancy meal and drinks in one of your favourite spots in Barca. As the night drew on and the drinks flowed you felt yourself get lighter and lighter. You got to the point that you were so carefree you didn’t care who you were dancing with, nor did Lucy who was your main dance partner anyway.

At this point Keira decided it was probably best to call it a night and phoned your now girlfriend. Alexia was waiting for this phone call really; you had mentioned you were going out with the English pair and that never normally ended with anything less than you and Lucy drunk as and Keira and Alexia dealing with you both.

Alexia had just dropped the English duo to their place and was now sat with a very inebriated you at a red light. She turned to look at you as you dozed off in the passenger seat of her car. The streetlights bounced off your features in a way they had Alexia frozen, she knew that she was falling incredibly fast for you, but she didn’t realise quite how fast until that moment.

She picked up her phone quick and snapped a couple of pics of you before the light turned green and she got you home safe.

A few days later you would see that photo for the first time, and not directly from the woman herself. You woke up to breakfast in bed and sweet kisses for your birthday, you had been so distracted with the people in your life wishing you happy birthday that it took until the evening when you were getting ready for the dinner out with some teammates that Alexia had planned, that you would see the picture along with 3 others.

It was Alexia’s post, it started with a photo of you both in your Barca gear before a game, then it was of you and Nala out on a walk, then it was of you cooking some dinner in Alexia’s kitchen and the final one was the car photo. The caption was simple, Here’s to the first of many birthday celebrations.

And tell me some things last

Alexia was freaking out and you could tell she was. You had yet to speak to her about your upcoming contract issues with Barca. Which had become a more pressing issue with your initial 3 years rapidly coming to an end. She knew that talks had been happening as she is your girlfriend and the captain of the team but what she didn’t know was that you had been offered and accepted a new 5-year deal.  

You had managed to get the club to not tell her before you did so that you could surprise her. Your apartment lease was up, and you hadn’t renewed, the reason for this was you were hoping to be able to move in with your now 2-year long girlfriend, not that she knew that plan just yet. You were nervous to ask such a question, but you were sure she was who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with if she would have you.

What you didn’t plan for was Alexia finding out about you not renewing your lease. You had promised Ingrid you would meet for coffee after the mornings training and Alexia had promised to meet you at yours as you would be cooking for tonight’s Thursday date night. Unfortunately, you were not aware that your landlord was due round to speak about the changing of keys when you moved out. A conversation that Alexia had now had with said person and not you.

Mapi had picked you and Ingrid up from your little outing so you had asked the pair to come up for a drink, thinking that Alexia would be happy to have some time with her best friend. However, as soon as you walked in and made eye contact with your lover you knew the invite up was the wrong thing to do.

It wasn’t just you that noticed, Ingrid saw it too. She was quick to grab Mapi and make up a hurried excuse that had the blonde defender opening and closing her mouth like a fish as she was dragged out of the apartment.

You waited to hear the click of the door shutting before you started to speak. “What’s wrong babe?” You tried to keep the nerves out of your voice, opting to move a bit closer to the older woman as you spoke too.

In the time it took for you to sit down on the sofa, the woman was up on her feet. “What do you mean what’s wrong. You know exactly what is wrong, you are leaving. You are leaving and you haven’t bothered to ask me what that does to me, to us. I didn’t even get to know let alone get to ask you to stay.” You were frozen in place, what was she talking about leaving. You weren’t leaving why would she think that, had you waited too long to tell her about the contract extension? You felt like an idiot for causing her to be this upset.

“Lo siento babe. I am not leaving. Let’s get that sorted first. I could never leave you.” You took a moment to wait for your words to register in the distressed woman’s mind. When they did, she looked at you, and the look she had in her eyes almost broke you. It was like she was pleading with her eyes for you to be telling the truth. “Come here, Lo siento mucho. I didn’t mean to cause you this much stress. I was just trying to surprise you. I should have done better here.”

Alexia did as you asked and came and sat next to you. She didn’t make any physical contact with you like she normally would, but you understood. You took that she was at least next to you and not out the door and a positive sign that this wasn’t a major fuck up. You gave her a few moments to process her thoughts as you did and waited for her to speak.

“You really aren’t leaving me?” That broke you a little bit, you shifted a little closer to the woman and gently took her hand, when she didn’t pull back you squeezed it in yours to try offer some comfort before your words could do the rest.

“No Ale I’m not. I’m staying right here with you for as long as you’ll have me.” You would happily commit the rest of your life to this woman and everyone around you knew it. You obviously hadn’t spent enough time making sure she knew it though and you made that silent vow in your head to rectify that.

“Forever por favor.” You couldn’t help but smile at her words. “But your contract with Barca, it’s almost up.” You let go of her hand to turn your whole body to face her, legs crossed on the sofa. You retook her hand and tugged a little to try and get her to look at you as you spoke.

When you finally got her to make eye contact with you, you told her your secret, “I renewed about 3 days ago, 5 years babe.” The way your favourite eyes lit up in front of you in that moment would be forever imprinted on your brain. There was just joy in them as you said this, and you couldn’t stop the feeling it brought up inside of you. You were about to continue speaking when her facial expression changed again, not to as sad as it was but to one of more confusion.

“But your landlord said you were giving the keys back at the end of the month.” You couldn’t help but smile at that, of course Alexia wasn’t quite following where your brain was hoping.

“I am yes. There is only one place I want to live.” The puzzled look stayed on the Spanish beauties face. A fact that had you full on laughing out loud at the cluelessness of your girlfriend. Deciding that you would put her out of her misery you told her what you hoped could happen. “How would you like to live together mi amor?”

Alexia didn’t answer verbally, no she answered with every other option but that. She pretty much tackled you to the sofa, your back hit the cushions before you could even process what was happening. You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of your mouth as the woman stared peppering your face with kisses.

The joyous moment turned tender quickly after that. Alexia had one arm on the cushions next to your head to prop herself up and the other reached down to cup your cheek. “I want nothing more than you being the first thing I see in the morning and the last I see before I fall asleep.” You could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks, it wasn’t often you got romantic Ale but when you did it never failed to turn you to mush.

Words would fail you in this moment and you knew it, so you did the next best thing. You reached up and tangled your fingers in the brunettes’ locks of your very soon-to-be house partner, pulling her down so that you could press your lips eagerly to hers in a kiss that could only be described as coming home.

[venxomi]

TBHK Chapter 126 Analysis - The cost of a reckless wish

The Hourglass

The chapter begins with Nene flipping the Hourglass, but it not activating for a simple reason- According to last chapter, you need to make a wish first. The Hourglass simply didn't take effect because Nene hadn't made one.

So when the cat jumped in and saved her, explaining to Kako that it had only intervened because it relates to wanting to help- or save others. It was the wish of the one the cat had been before, and now it was Nene's. Because of the cat, the Hourglass now knew what Nene desired and, as a result, activated.

In essence, the Hourglass needed to know what the user wanted. Otherwise, how could it send Nene on endless loops, and, just like the other victims, have her soul waste away?

Along with information from the previous chapter, we have further confirmation that this Hourglass is nothing but an entity that, just like the pit god, wants to consume. In this chapter, it's shown directly- Nene is turned into sand as she is kept within the hourglass. It speaks to her.

"I am- We are- The Flow. Power. Time. Sand."

The Hourglass essentially boasts its capabilities; That it's a constant. That it's powerful. That it's limitless. And that's not the only thing. "I am- We are-" suggests that it's made up of a collective consciousness.

"Welcome! You have come to join us!"; It's not even trying to hide its goal, is it? To amass one more consciousness, one more soul within it, as it's made up of its users' corroded souls.

Did you know? Sand forms when rocks break down from weathering and eroding over thousands and even millions of years. But the Hourglass' process is faster than just waiting such an absurd amount of time. The moment Nene flipped the hourglass, the process had already begun. Along with the sand, Nene passes through it. Again and again. Again and again. Until her soul, slowly but surely, erodes into fine sand.

To put it in extremely simple terms, Kako was right. It's not an item that is actually capable of helping you reach your desired outcome. It dangles it in front of you like a carrot on a stick. That is all. It proves to you that it is capable of leading you to your desired result, but it doesn't allow you to reach it. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you think or how many times you try in desperation, you are unable to grasp the bait, the flicker of hope, in front of you.

One who sought riches would be killed by bandits. One who sought to gain someone's love ended herself and that someone. One who sought fame was killed by envy. One who wished to bring back people for the sake of someone else had that someone else disappear from existence. And one who simply wished to save her friends... Had them killed by her own hand.

But it's all right. For as long her soul is still in one piece, she can keep trying. Again and again and again... Wrapping her in its hands, pushing her down and continuing the slow process of corrosion. A fake "Good luck", an ironic one, fully aware of the end result.

Dehumanization

If you are familiar with my analysis of chapter 121, this is basically an expansion of it.

In it I talked about Amane's dehumanization process, how he is a victim of the Red House, a trapped soul who is unable to disobey, and also about having to kill his own family, his own little brother he loved so much, and then being forced into killing countless other people for the pit god which desensitized him completely.

Nene is directly put into Amane's shoes, where she fell victim to the Red House and was forced into its servitude. Unlike Kou in the past, who had been exorcised before he could harm the people he loved, Nene wasn't so lucky. She had to kill the friends she desperately attempted several times to save.

In this scene, Amane is projecting onto Nene, as she is in the same position as he once was. Holding onto her to prevent her from falling in a twisted way of providing comfort, possibly.

His assertion "See? I knew you could do it." suggested that a possessed Nene hesitated killing her loved ones, and maybe that struck a cord within him. That he had hesitated to kill his own family aswell, but he had no choice. That, just like him, she could do it. To further prove him right, that there's no meaning to life, death or anything else in this cursed house.

At that moment, The Red House had initiated a new feeder, freshly dehumanized. A kindred spirit.

Nene's sanity is frayed and she fell into despair. Her figure doesn't appear in the hourglass anymore as she flips the hourglass in a panic.

A new glimmer of hope (?)

Nene is now at her wits' end. She didn't even understand what had happened, only that she killed everyone. She can't figure out why. As a result, as she guessed, she would've repeated the same mistake.

However, a new hope emerges after she had been plunged into despair; The Clock Keeper of the Present. Will this hope be genuine and not just a carrot on a stick that Nene prepared to sacrifice everything for in vain?

Akane subtly reflecting in Nene's eyes reflect her desire to grasp on any sliver of hope she can find.

Thoughts and Predictions

Going a bit on an unserious remark, as a Re:Zero fan I absolutely loved this chapter. Subaru (who, if you don't know about the series, travels back to a point in time when he dies. He dies and suffers in various attempts to save the people he loves... A hell lot. He is unable to speak of this ability to others, so he suffers in silence.) has gained one more kindred spirit. I even illustrated this quick doodle of Nene and Subaru!

Back on topic, on the rare case that this is the worst she'll be through, it will permanently mentally scar her. Perhaps she might be able to put on a facade and pretend everything's fine, but no one is ever fine after being part of such horrors, having your friends die several times because of your failed attempts, and ultimately having them die by your very own hands. And if she's unable to speak about her experiences as this chapter suggested where she couldn't mention being from the future, then it's really over. I'm of the personal opinion that Iro will break Nene in order to further develop her character. Hit the bar as low as you possibly can, for your character to rise higher than ever before- That kind of technique. Every passing chapter seems to solidify this. Nene's flaws are tripping her up and making her horribly fail. She resolved to save everyone and fought by herself, but she was far too reckless in her desperation. Made a reckless decision of coming into contact with an entity that was properly explained as dangerous, had a hasty wish, and couldn't even figure out what actually needed to be changed after several attempts. She could only further fall into despair and break. I can't really put it into words properly as of now, but I can grasp what Iro wants to do with her character. Slowly, but surely, Iro has been working for this all along. Nene can no longer be ignorant of the world's cruelty. If she wants to understand and save everyone from it, she has to experience it for herself. Whether she gives up or stands back up as a result, it's a choice only she can make, isn't it?

As for Akane, as far as I can predict with the current information, there's 2 possibilities: 1. The Akane we see at the end is Akane of the 'original' timeline. The Clock Keepers' Boundary seems to be unaffected by changes in time (as it still exists despite the 7 Mysteries not existing in the new timeline), so if Akane stayed in there, then a Paradox could've been created where multiple "Akane Aoi" exist at the same time. 2. As the Clock Keeper of the Present, Akane is aware of all the attempts Nene made with the Hourglass, and as a result came to search for her after he died by her hands, aware of what just transpired. Both seem valid enough to me, so I'm honestly just curious. Can't wait until next chapter.

The cat's lines and interactions in chapter 126 further solidifies to me that it's related to Amane who had attempted to go back in time in 1968.

[doremimosasol]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 - 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 ๋࣭⭑

warnings: suggestive (trying to get into it more please forgive me), swearing

word count: 0,7 k (just a small one this time :))

a/n: thank you so so much @slytherinslut0 for proofreading this and giving these amazing adaptions, I love you <3

Oh, Mattheo was always so goddamn needy. 10 minutes until class? Not ideal. But Mattheo did a lot of things far from ideal. Once you gave him the chance to lay his hands on you, he never stopped.

How you’d finally gotten here was almost mind-boggling to him after months of just trying to get you to look at him, months of wondering how those delicate hands of yours would feel on his body. However, it was more than that. He didn't only want your touch on his skin, he wanted it on his soul. Gods, he’d never craved someone as much as he craved you.

And no matter what he did, he couldn’t control himself. Thoughts running wild when he stared at his ceiling, finding their way back to you without failure. His mind was consumed by thoughts of you. It drove him insane, resulting in endless sleepless nights.

Oh… but when he finally got you to look at him, when he finally got you to speak to him, the thoughts only got worse. You were definitely interested, it must be. Were you though?

To him, it seemed all too coincidental. You woke at the same time as him, and ate breakfast at the same time as him—your minds must be connected. You went to the library at night, you must've known it was a habit of his too. Take the same routes as him? Gosh, you must be in love with him.

But maybe you actually were falling for him, you saw him more than you saw your own friends. Everywhere you were, he was. Coincidence? Hell no. Schedules of each other in the back of both of your minds.

It didn't even take a month before he had you pressed against the wall of one of the broom closets. Hot breath, fervent fingers, charged atmosphere. You wanted each other. He was hastily moving his hands over your shirt, cursing it for getting in the way of his goal.

"For fuck's sake, let these buttons open up already."

Warm breath hitting your ear while he let his hands travel everywhere they shouldn't be. He was so hot, everything about your interactions was hot. Fingers inching closer to the place where you desperately needed them most.

You two never kissed though, the contact of lips unnecessary in the heat of those moments. It would make it feel too real. Because if you didn't kiss, nothing happened right? You could just go on with your lives until the next time.

And that's how you both acted around each other outside of the places and moments he worshipped your body. No traces left on each other, a secret.

10 minutes until class, enough time to get your high. For each of you to get your fix. But not nearly enough time to calm down—both still on edge in class. The steady yapping from the professor at the front was not even remotely being absorbed. Eyes glued to each other, unable to wipe the feel of fingers on skin from your minds. The heat of each other's eyes reflecting the heat that you both now so desperately tried to cool down.

And every time it became more real, the passion was not only present in those rooms but now when you both were around each other throughout the day. The nagging feeling. The emotion undeterred.

You knew it was over when you two finally kissed. You were in far too deep to turn back now. Because it already felt too real, and you both knew it. Once you started, you couldn’t stop — not doing anything other than kissing that night. Trying to make up for the time you waited.

Bodies moving in sync, not even able to catch your breath. You felt out of this world. Yet he was still by his senses, still making sure his body was driving you to your high. Once he heard the familiar sound of your moans he knew, he once again succeeded.

His breath hitting your ears, burning your skin. "Let's make this fucking real, yeah? Be my girlfriend, please be my girlfriend." He was begging... or demanding?

Of course, you said yes. You finally caught your breath, only for it to be taken away once more — and more and endlessly more times.

[vxnuslogy]

— broken toys. ft sunday

— warnings: slight angst

— author's note: my entry to the sunday brainrot, aka me manifesting for playable sunday.

sunday was the most desired man in all of penacony, and for a good reason too.

head of the oak family; the most handsome bachelor on the planet; a preacher of harmony that wanted the best for his home; what was there to not like about him? you were no stranger to the way he stared at gatherings hosted by the family, his gaze lingered too much on you; happened too many times to count as a mere coincidence. it sent your heart into a blazing beat, one that made your cheeks flush whenever he stood anywhere near you. just hearing his voice – the awkward laugh that rang like wedding bells when mr. gopher wood joked about the two of you being a match made in heaven – it became your favorite thing in the world.

the idea of marrying sunday has always been on the table ever since you were children. one playdate after the other – most of which were spent on the beach – where you, sunday, and his darling little sister robin would create sandcastles for miles. role playing as the kingdom’s regency while robin sang you songs until she fell asleep. such fond memories manifested itself to a lightcone that now sat in your bedroom. mr. wood was not blind with the way sunday looked at you – neither were you – and ever since then, he’d consistently bug you to marry his adoptive son who hid behind his wings to save his face.

and so you did. you married the man of your dreams and relished in being loved like a saint. 

every waking hour with sunday was spent with him worshiping the very ground you set foot on. slipping his hand under the table in meetings to fit yours because you were his rock, making sure he never strayed too far from you because to him, being away from you was the deadliest sin of them all. he loved you like the sun; burning brightly and warming your coldest days with only a whisper of sweet nothings in your ear as you let his touch scorch your skin in a way that made you wince but love him all the same. basking in the way his lips carved his name in your own with such passion you would close your eyes to everything else - he was the only view you would ever look at.

sunday burned brightly, but he burnt too quickly. just like how the sun could never stay in the sky forever, his revelry in you also faded like the waking night when the moon and stars started to replace him. sunday became too consumed in his goals of harmony, so much so that he lost his way that not even you, his darling, couldn’t save him from. 

even if his hands still gravitated towards yours, they no longer had the same warmth that you savored in his presence. he confessed his deadliest sins – the sin of being away from you – every night under the night sky’s judgment, only to commit them again the following morning. 

such was the cycle of sunday’s habit when he obtained his favorite toy. 

he drowned himself in the great pleasures of finally having his hands on the toy he’s been pining over for years. indulging himself in the adoration he had for you even if sometimes, it flickered with something more sinister, something much darker than the adoration he bathed and convinced you in. you let him suffocate in this false devotion until he started to pull back in boredom. until his favorite toy - you - was no longer his favorite.

you would pull away, starting to realize how this was not right, only for him to come sweep you of your feet – the same awkward laughter that once rang like wedding bells now sounded like red sirens, warning you of the danger you’d always ignore – and your falling back into the same maze that was your husband.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[sydnikov]

Being Bold || S. Jarvis

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing

A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.

Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.

He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.

Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.

He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.

“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.

“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.

Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.

Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.

“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.

You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.

“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”

“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”

“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.

“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”

Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.

Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.

Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.

But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.

“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?

Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.

“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”

“Space? You think she just needs space?”

“Well, not too much space—”

“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.

Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.

Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.

In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?

You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.

It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.

Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.

Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.

You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.

The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.

The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.

“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.

You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”

“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”

It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.

“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”

“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.

If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.

“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”

You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”

Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.

You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.

The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.

“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.

“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.

You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.

The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.

“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”

Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”

“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”

Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.

You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”

That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.

“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”

Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.

Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.

He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”

You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.

“I want you. You know that, baby.”

“Seth…”

“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.

You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.

Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.

“Okay.”

Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”

That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.

“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”

“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.

You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.

He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.

You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.

For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.

“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.

He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.

“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.

Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.

You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.

He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.

You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.

“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”

You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.

“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.

“Not long enough, babe.”

You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.

What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.

“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.

He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.

You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.

Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.

Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.

“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.

“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”  Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.

Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.

“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.

“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.

Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.

“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.

He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.

“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.

Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.

Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.

And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?

You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.

If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.

You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.

Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.

You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.

Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.

He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.

Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.

Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.

“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”

Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.

“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.

Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.

When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.

“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”

Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.

“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”

“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.

Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.

“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”

Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.

And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.

There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.

Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”

“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”

His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.

His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.

It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.

By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.

You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.

You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.

Especially after Scott. Asshole.

You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.

His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.

“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.

Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.

Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”

You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.

Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.

He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.

“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”

“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.

Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.

“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.

You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.

“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.

He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.

Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.

You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.

Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.

You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.

“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.

Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.

While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.

Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.

All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.

With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.

When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.

He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.

You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.

Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”

Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.

He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”

“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.

His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.

When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?

He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.

Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:

Be bold.

“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”

As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”

Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.

“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”

And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.

“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”

“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.

“Can I be your boyfriend now?”

“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”

You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.

But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.

A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu

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[sugurouge]

— call her my obsession : ghostface! ex boyfriend! endo yamato x f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, mask kink, slight stalking, hunter/prey, possessive topics, lovesick endo, lots of praise, marking, biting, public sex, pet names (doll, good little thing/ thing, darling, bunny, princess, sweetheart, he rambles), dubcon, yandere themes, slight strangling&asphyxiation, hair pulling, remnants of conditioning, toxic relationship, cunnilingus, rough sex, manhandling

summary: endo would do anything to please. even if you have scratched him out of your life months ago, he would never give up on the person he loves that easily. when will you learn that he lives to make you happy? maybe if he brings your wildest fantasies to life, you will let him in again. in the end, he is nothing but hopelessly devoted to you

wordcount: 2.8k | my kinktober masterlist

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by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume dark content. don't interact if you cannot differentiate fiction from reality.

It all began at a silly Halloween party. You showed up dressed provocatively, in a skin-tight black bodysuit and a laughable excuse for cat makeup, topped off with a pair of fake ears. It looked cheap, but in the best way possible, a pair of icy blues noted amused. His brave little bunny hiding in cat clothing.

Throughout the night, you felt his presence, like a chilling gust of wind that had shivers crawl up your spine. Yes, someone was watching you—someone hiding behind a rubber white mask. You saw many of said mask that night, but he stood out. The tight fitting black turtleneck, muscular build, gloved hands. Everything made him look too hot to be at this shabby party. 

He knew you were watching him, lusting after him. You were probably halfway gone the moment he first touched you. Strong hands hovered over your hips as you swayed to the playlist's songs. Despite the booming of the music, your pathetic mewl rang through to his very core. The tremble of your glossy lips told him all about the dirty thoughts that were racing through your pretty mind.

Naughty little thing.

How dare you leave him alone on the dance floor after eyefucking him as much as he did you? You were an open book, playing hard to get like the princess you are as your heels carried you through the crowd. Yet, that longing gaze over your shoulder was all he needed to keep following you. He could almost smell your arousal. The thought of your wet pussy made him salivate, made him miss everything you two once had even more. Sharp canines dig into his bottom lip to keep him grounded. 

He had to focus; he couldn’t lose you now. 

Not when you finally made it outside the abandoned house, moonlight casting you in an ethereal glow, making you look like an angel.

But where are you taking him? Why are you so certain he’ll follow you? 

With only one goal in mind, your feet follow the pathway until you reach the edge of a little forest. You can’t help the curiosity that screams at you to just give all this a try. Those scenes in horror movies that make you unconsciously press your thighs together, make you bite your nails until your old company pointed out your adorable reactions. It was embarrassing back then, realising that such twisted scenes turn you on, and even more so, the wish to be chased for once. You never expected this to actually happen. 

So this is all your own fault. Because of your stupid social media and movie obsession. What kind of idiot would actually want to play catch in the woods with fucking Ghostface? With a stranger of all things. Your ancestors would be so disappointed. 

The forest looms ahead, dark and foreboding, each shadow seeming to stretch out, eager to swallow you whole. Your breath quickens, heart pounding in your chest as you venture deeper. The moonlight barely pierces the dense canopy above, casting eerie patterns on the forest floor.

It all seemed like child’s play, until actual fear settles in your bones. Until your heels make your escape harder, getting stuck in the dirt or caught on roots again and again. The game has turned dangerous, as adrenaline surges through you. The echo of your pursuer's footsteps grow louder, closer.

He teases you with the cracking of branches beneath his heavy footwear, he must have an easy time stalking behind. “Sweetheart, where are you bringing me?” His raspy voice rings through the trees, as clear as if he were to stand right behind you—looming above your smaller frame like a starved wolf. Your mind races, torn between the intoxicating excitement and the creeping terror as a whimper seems like your pathetic answer to his question. You have fantasised about this moment, but reality is far more intense. The fear is real, and so is the man chasing you. “I thought you wanted to play with me as much as I wanna play with you, bunny~” 

How dare you try to get away from him?

Maniacal laughter echoes through the woods as Endo watches you stumble through the dark, refusing to speak with him, you seem unable to think. Are you really that scared? "Stop trying to run from me," he warns, impatience starting to lace his voice. "You were such a good little thing, got me all riled up. Now let me catch my reward."

The forest seems to close in around you, shadows dancing and whispering secrets as you desperately search for a way forward. But the footsteps of your pursuer only grow louder, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot mixing with your staggered breaths. Endo revels in the chase, the joy of witnessing your fear, and the promise of what comes next.

"I want the woods to hear your pretty moans, all for me," he nearly moans the words as he tears off the Ghostface mask to see better. His crazy blue eyes lock onto you, the moonlight illuminating his face, twisted with a mix of lust and madness all for you to see. 

You stumble upon the initial scare, heart pounding wildly in your chest. How? Why? Out of all the people in the world. “No backsies~” Endo warns, as you lose sight of him in the trees. Anyone, anyone but him. You hide behind a tree, eyes heavy from the tears you were fighting back now spilling free. The forest, once a place of curiosity for your dark fantasies, feels like a trap. And Endo is closing in on you. 

It’s an eerie atmosphere as silence holds your body still like a ghostly embrace. You are too scared to speak, move, or look. You should really be on the lookout for your surroundings, but your eyes remain tightly shut, tears seemingly unending as they ruin your makeup and taint your cheeks.

The stillness is unbearable.

Until Endo reaches you. His strong frame overwhelms you in an instant. Somewhere along the way he rid himself of the constricting sweater, freeing his heated skin to let his signature tattoos greet you. The sudden proximity of his body wraps a blanket of intense, nearly unbearable heat, around you. It battles the stark contrast of the chill that clings to your body. His hand grasps into your hair recklessly, yanking you back until you have no choice but to stumble into his broad chest. The tattoos that snake along his arms are suddenly around your neck, his fingers pressing into the delicate skin to successfully constrict your breath.

Endo hums cheerfully, much unlike the given situation, his sugary voice vibrates against your ear as he whispers, "Found ya!" The sweetness of his words contradicts sharply with the crude actions that follow as he presses you against a tree, his teeth bruise your shoulder before he nibbles along your neck.

His canines break your skin with ease as his nails dig into your hips, to perfectly hold you in place. You feel your body break beneath his strength, effortlessly being handled like Endo's favourite toy when he arches you into the tree, your ass out for his cock to rut against while he abuses your skin, littering it with love bites. "Fuck me, you smell so good, pretty thing," he murmurs while shamelessly inhaling your scent, just as sweet as he remembers. “I’ve missed you so much, you can’t imagine…”

Deep, raspy moans of your name and filthy mumbles are a haunting symphony of his deep love. 

He can no longer contain his excitement. The need to have you, to feel you, to taste you again reigns over him. Endo's large hands run along your outer thighs before moving to the insides to let his fingertips tease your overly sensitive skin. Greedily, he cups your pussy in his palm, his fingers brushing against your clit through the fabric. Oh, he loves how much you leak because of him. He has no other choice but to rub in just how much your body reacts to him. 

You fulfil Endo. The pathetic cry that escapes your lips? Heavenly. The plea of his name? Delicious. And the nimble fingers trying to push against his strong hand? "Fuck, you’re so cute," Endo whispers in a most lovesick way possible.

But enough playing around. Enough hiding from him. Endo focuses back onto the task ahead, onto the flimsy bodysuit you’re wearing. Which is, by the way, so easy to tear, to conquer what he needs, just like that: His fingertips dig into the fabric between your thighs and the harsh ripping sounds have you jolt awake, have you pull away from his grasp like a spoiled brat—he hates brats.

"Stop putting up a fight," he murmurs, "You asked for this." The sharp sting in your scalp is a brutal reminder of your place as Endo yanks your hair once more, pulling you back into his grasp. Your head rests on his shoulder, his crazed gaze locking onto your widened eyes, fear evident in your pretty pupils. Two fingers pump deeply into your cunt, scissoring your walls to prepare you for his own twisted desires. "Look at you, clinging to my fingers like a cockhungry little monster," he chuckles, relishing in his own words and your ashamed reaction as you struggle to maintain eye contact. 

"Why don’t your pretty lips beg for me as well?" he whispers into your ear before his teeth graze your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "Beg for me to fuck you out in the open. Beg for me, come on, pretty girl, I need you to tell me how desperate you are for me right this fucking moment." His eyes widen with excitement, a manic grin spreading across his face, making him appear almost unhinged—yet, to you, insanely hot? 

His maniacal love brings back memories you repressed. No matter how sick his affliction was, it filled you like nothing else. And now that he’s back, Endo will make sure he never messes that up again.

This is all you wanted, isn’t it? The hunt, the chase, the inevitable claim of the prize. You nod quickly, lips pressed tightly together before they part again, though you can’t stop grinding against him like an animal in heat. "Please, fuck me, take me, I’m all yours, you won, I really, really wanna—" Your pleas are cut off by a high-pitched moan as he thrusts a third finger into you. Your eyes roll back from the intense stimulation, but a sharp spank to your arse drags you back to reality.

"Didn’t say it was enough—go on," Endo urges, his eyes searching your face, desperate for praise. "Can’t think of anything but getting fucked by you tonight. Please, please, please, I need you!" Of course you do. And he needs you just as badly. He knows you so well, knows exactly how to make your sharp tongue forget how to form words, how to make you chant his name like a prayer. The sounds falling from your lips fuel his madness, his eyes frantically searching yours for every scrap of affection you can offer him in this obscene display.

Your back meets the rough bark of a tree as Endo lifts your legs effortlessly, placing them on his shoulders as he kneels before you like a man devoting himself to his goddess. You barely have time to catch your breath before his mouth is on your pussy, his head buried between your thighs as he laps at your folds with fervour. His tongue, hot and insistent, drags along your puffy lips before pushing against your throbbing flesh, circling your clit with maddening precision. His groans vibrate through your body, and you clench your thighs around his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging violently at the roots—just the way he loves it. He savours the shivers running down his spine, the tightening in his gut, the aching weight in his trousers.

"Fuck, you’re driving me insane, doll," he moans into your pussy, his teeth grazing your clit until you jerk, too sensitive yet craving more. You could never get enough of him. Why did you even bother breaking up with him?

"‘M so close, can’t take more, Ya-Yamato~" You gasp, but he won’t let you falter now. You can take more—just a little more of his love. The pain you cause by pulling his hair only spurs him on, driving him further into his frenzy. Until you’re trembling against him, your legs shaking around his head under the relentless patterns of his tongue circling your clit. Your increased volume drives Endo to the brink of madness.

"God, bunny, you taste so fucking good," he mutters into your folds, the vibrations of his words adding to the overwhelming pleasure. Your moans are like music to him, a symphony he could listen to endlessly. His fingers slide back into you, curling to reach that perfect, gummy spot inside while he devours your slick like a man starved. He pushes you harder against the tree, his free hand roaming your thighs, tearing your bodysuit further apart for easy access to everything he craves.

This is his reward, his obsession—his twisted love made flesh. And you, trembling and whimpering under his touch, are exactly where you belong.

You’re rutting against his face, pulling him deeper into your pussy, thighs squeezing around him, muffling his groans as your moans echo through the dead forest. Just as the crest of your release approaches, he suddenly pulls away, and your feet land on the ground. His palm meets your puffy cunt with a sharp, stinging slap, pushing you over the edge with a burst of pain. You tumble into his strong chest, fully engulfed in Endo, surrounded and protected by him as you come undone in the palm of his hand.

"Good little thing, playing so well with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice a mix of praise and possessiveness. "You deserve to be fucked until your legs give out, leaving a trail for all the perverts to lick up on your way home." He inhales your scent deeply, arms holding you steady as you teeter on the edge of consciousness. You’re halfway gone, lost in the aftermath of your release, so it’s no surprise you don’t register the sound of his zip being undone.

Endo manoeuvres you like his personal plaything, turning you around with a practised ease. A flat hand between your shoulder blades pushes you forward, but he doesn’t let you fall. He’ll always hold his princess up. His biceps flex as he snakes an arm around your waist, positioning you perfectly to slide his needy cock inside you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, drowning himself in your scent as he thrusts deeply, each push driving you forward in his embrace. Your body jerks with the impact, on the verge of giving out.

"You wanted this," he reminds you, his breath staggered, drawing out each word as he battles his own exhaustion. "You know I’ll make any of your wishes come true, no matter how fucked up." Another harsh thrust nearly drives you into the tree, but Endo pulls you back, refusing to let you drift too far from him. He will always hold you as close as possible. "I’d do anything for you," he rambles, his voice thick with devotion. His brows furrow in concentration as he leans back, his eyes raking over your subdued form.

His hands grip your upper arms, his thighs spreading you open as his hips bounce against the soft flesh of your arse. He’s so close—so fucking close. Mumbled adorations spill from his lips, "My perfect girl," and hushed "I love you"s pouring into your fucked-out mind. He doesn’t mind your muted responses; not when your walls clamp around his cock with every word of praise. His beloved is tired, after all. "Gonna cum inside ya, fuck, I’m so close," he groans, his breath ragged, moans raspy. The heat of his breath and the drops of sweat the only sensations grounding you while he fucks you with growing desperation.

Endo's movements slow down for him to only grind into you once his neediness makes a return. "Let me hear it again, pretty thing, tell me." His voice is a desperate pant, needing your words to anchor him. Perfectly conditioned, you remember what makes him fall apart in the palm of your hand. No matter the bile biting your throat upon the messy memories you hold for him, you give him what he needs. "I-I love you, Yamato, I love you, can you cum for me, please?" you pant, your voice trembling.

His eyes roll back, a near-maniacal grin spreading across his face as his head falls back to gaze at the bright moonlight above. "Don’t have to ask me twice, doll," he promises, and with a final thrust, he finally lets go, freeing himself from the pent-up need that consumed him.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[aethon-recs]

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (Longfic Edition)

Happy New Year! 🤍 Here is a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2023.

I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, truly groundbreaking in some way in their approach to the ship. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of this ship existing, there's still new themes / tropes / dynamics to explore, and the authors are all so talented in making me think about the ship in some new way — just incredible examples of what it means to be a transformative work of fanfiction.

Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2023. As with a previous longfic rec list, I tried to find longer fics that were relatively under-rated (which is hard to define, but below 2K kudos for the most part).

See here for Part 1 (2023 Tomarrymort one-shots), and hope you lose many many happy hours to the unbridled joy of immersing yourself in one or more of these incredibly addictive, lovely longer fics!

*

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — Multi-Chaptered Fics

A Darkness by Any Other Name by river_marrow (M, 30k, WIP) 

Decades after the war ends, Harry is thrown through the Veil, and finds himself in an alternate reality where the leader of the Muggleborn uprising is the Dark Lord Voldemort.

A Dead God's Faith by @selfishrot (M, 35k, WIP)

Blood and spittle rush to follow Riddle’s words that are dragged out through a wrecked throat. “I will consume you.” Harry felt a thrill run up his spine, along with the usual fear and anger that accompanied Voldemort's threats. “Be gentle, I can feel your soul ripping its stitches.”

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 81k, WIP)

When Harry looks at Tom, he feels overwhelmed. There is a spark that makes him hopeful, the fear that nothing he does will save Tom from himself, and the horror at what his lies might lead to. When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

At the expense of the world by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)

"He had a lover, you know," Jenkins says to Remus once Harry's behind a wall and out of sight again. "A boy, and a gorgeous one at that. Nobody really knew where he came from, and Tom didn't seem to favour him either, at first, but by the end, he was besotted."

Bitumen by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 32k, WIP)

Harry finds out the hard way that Dementors can’t digest Horcruxes. Now separated from his body, his best option is to seek out a similar soul for help. A love story about immortals with too much time to kill.

Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 25k, WIP)

Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.

Exceeding Expectations by @mosiva (E, 56k, complete)

Harry Potter’s life ran along very different lines than Tom Riddle’s. He knew nothing more of the man than he read in the Daily Prophet. Then they get stuck in a lift together.

Exegesis by liquoricepantomime (M, 38k, WIP)

In exchange for peace, Voldemort asks for Harry Potter. And so, there is a new legacy that forms — of The-Boy-Who-Was-Sold, and his childhood spent in a castle, with a man who has killed his parents. A man who is mad, and whose ire reigns fiery hell. A man he will marry, and yet knows nothing about.

found by @honbug (E, 112k, WIP)

Tom knows from the beginning that he is destined for greatness. Nothing and no one will stop him from achieving his goals. (And then, of course, there are the dreams.)

hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (E, 21k, WIP)

Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.

if we were lovers by @reggieblk (E, 277k, complete)

When Harry arrives at the most prestigious theatrical school in the country, he doesn't have many expectations. The most unexpected thing he encounters is Tom Riddle, and subsequently, falling in love with the only other person who deals with feelings as well as him. But maybe, just maybe, he and Tom will find out that not all love stories have to end in tragedy.

Lover's Spit by @blogalinda & @k3uuu (E, 123k, WIP)

Following his father's arrest on a dull hot Sunday in North Yorkshire, 10-year-old Tom Riddle becomes a dark internet sensation.  If Harry Potter listened to his father, he would never speak to Riddle again. But eight years after the arrest, an unexpected and painful encounter leads Harry to reconsider events — and arrive at a conclusion all his own. 

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 189k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, a serial killer emerges, with a message that proclaims the Dark Lord has risen again. Harry is assigned to the case.

Oversight by @dividawrites (E, 21k, WIP)

Voldemort’s resurrection ritual doesn’t go as smoothly as he’d planned. He requires assistance and there’s only one person he can ask—the boy tied to his father’s gravestone.

Paved With the Best Intentions by @perhaps-sunlight (M, 113k, WIP)

Instead of dying during the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort de-ages into an infant. Until he becomes old enough to be legally executed, he will be magically bound to Harry.

Prison Blues by @metalomagnetic (E, 68k, WIP) 

Harry and Voldemort find themselves locked up in a mysterious prison in an A/B/O alternate universe setting.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 110k, WIP)

In a Voldemort Wins AU, Harry Potter was spared, and enters his seventh year at Hogwarts wanting to do Arithmancy research and keep his head down. However, after a chance encounter, it looks like it may not be so simple. Marvolo Gaunt seems to have his eye on Harry. The trouble is, Harry has no idea why. 

Tender Reigns Our Night by @noumena-writes (M, 93k, WIP)

Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort — using any means necessary. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's, examining dark artefacts and desperately trying to fulfil his orders.

the demiurge, the leontoeides by @ramabear (E, 125k, WIP)

Thomas Gaunt reaches through the dimensions and plucks an eleven-year-old Harry Potter from his world and brings him home again.

the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP) 

There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The man’s green eyes fix on Tom’s face, searching and searching.  “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”

the righteous dead by @aspengray (T, 23k, WIP)

Harry is resurrected, sewn together with thread and magic. He remembers nothing except that he loves his savior, a man named Voldemort.

The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 33k, WIP)

Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light. He is wondering if somehow the fruitless tugging on his heart means that somewhere, some way, Tom is watching over him. 

With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 157k, WIP)

A Hunger Games-AU featuring Harry and Tom as competing champions.  Harry has a saving people thing. It’s not conducive to surviving a battle royale. He doesn’t fancy his chances. Especially against Tom Riddle.

*

[wosowrites]

Good Girl (Ona Batlle x Reader)

warnings: smut, pr@ise k!nk

a/n: based off this request here and it is not proof read sorry.

prompt: in which it’s Ona and the readers first time sleeping together so the reader gets really nervous, resulting in Ona taking over and showing her dominant side.

You were extremely outgoing. You were the loudest in the changing rooms, the one who played the music, the first on the dance floor and the last to back down from a challenge. When you scored the opening goal or any goal during a tournament you made sure the whole stadium could hear your screams of joy. Your celebrations were famous throughout the women’s football community. So that’s why no one could have ever expected how absolutely nervous and almost submissive you were in bed.

When Ona found this out… she could not have been more pleased.

There had been some flirting between you and Ona for a year now. But it was very hard to tell what was just good old spanish friendliness and what was genuine romantic interest. The line was thin.

Ona would hold you close to her for long periods of time, guide you by your waist through crowds, kiss your cheek dangerously close to your lips, let her hand rest low on your hips and make a point of hugging you often when you were out on swim trips together. Nothing drove her more insane than the feeling of your skin on hers.

But neither of you had ever given in to your desires, both assuming the other wasn’t interested. You proved the other wrong in a hotel pool.

Manchester was playing Aston Villa in London and Mark had decided to let the team have the day off in London so the team would be arriving 24 hours before the game, spending the night at a hotel and then having a quick morning training session before the 3:00 pm game.

You all walked London, checking out landmarks and eating strongly mediocre food. Although your english was flawless and you barely had an accent, you were french Canadian and had played in France so you often missed the food in France.

By 9:00 most girls were lying in bed as instructed, but because you were rooming by yourself this time around due to an un even number of people there was no one to tell you to stay in bed. So, you slipped your bathing suit on and headed to the roof where there was a pool.

You loved swimming, especially in London spring. It was chilly and the water, cold as well, made your body feel good and helped you forget about every worry and unwelcome thought in your head.

You climbed to the roof, happy to see it deserted. You threw your towel to the side and then dived into the deep end. You loved the water so much because when you were around water during your childhood, it was one of the rare times you were happy. You let the water consume you and wash away your thoughts. You thoughts of tomorrows game, thoughts of the fight against Canada Soccer, thoughts of Ona…

But the second your brain wandered to Ona you couldn’t help it. When Ona was in your brain, so was her body. The way her hand we’re carved out to perfection, the shape of her chest under her training top and the way her arms flexed when she took shots.

All these thoughts ran through your head in only a couple seconds and then you emerged out of the water.

"Night swim?" a voice asked while your eyes were still closed due to you recently emerging from the water.

"Holy crap. Do not sneak up on me like that!" you squealed, opening your eyes and pushing your hair back and away from your face. "Sorry chica," Ona said with a wink.

You swam towards her to the edge of the pool, crossing your arms on the deck and looking up at her. The spaniard slipped off her shorts and hoodie, revealing her abs, arm muscles and tattoos. You stared to say the least until Ona snapped her fingers in front of your face, making you blush. "Sorry," you mumbled. "Don’t apologize, I’m looking at you too," she said, dipping her feet into the pool.

It was hard to tell with the young defender, hard to know what was flirting and what was just classic Ona.

"The waters really nice," you said to her, pushing your feet against the wall and gliding on your back, away from Ona and into the shallow end.

You held eye contact with the brunette, until a glow came across her face. "How much trouble do you think we would get in if we skinny dipped?" Ona said, walking around the pool towards you.

"Skinny dipping?!" you shrieked, taken aback and sounding a little more childish and stuck up than you wanted. You wanted the spaniard to think of you as being fun and loose. "Yeah y/l/n," she answered with a playful smirk. "Well. Jeez I think we’d get in a lot of trouble," you answered with a concerned frown on your face. "So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it?" Ona said, pushing a little further.

She had never seen this side of you before. You were always loud, energetic, and borderline agressive. This? This was different.

"No! I mean. No. I-yes. Yes I would like it," you blushed, starting to head into Ona’s direction.

She watched you with unblinking eyes as you swam up to her and stood up in the shallow end. Ona sat down with her toes in the water and spread her legs slightly for you to stand between, focusing on the small piece of cloth keeping you decent. "There aren’t any cameras, I asked," Ona said to you, looking up from your chest and into your eyes. "Something about not violating the privacy of the clients. Hotel policy," she added. "Mhm," you said softly, looking up into Ona’s eyes.

Your angle gave her a perfect view of you. Your wet hair, your sparkling body decorated with droplets of water. "You look beautiful," Ona said softly, just barely audible over the sound of the street below and your racing heart. "Where is all of this coming from?" you said softly, suddenly avoiding eye contact with her. "It’s coming from the fact that you are beautiful. Not just right now but always. And I may have had a drink and one drink Ona is extremely confident," she said, using her index to lift your chin.

The spaniard was now sitting on the edge of the pool with only a red bathing suit on to cover her up. Her stomach was toned and her arms were strong. Not in a threatening way, just in a hot way.

"No cameras, you said?" you whispered, your voice a hushed sound. "No cameras," she said, leaning back and subtly flexing her abdominals.

You were still standing between her legs and you gently placed your hands on her thighs, digging your nails into them softly and surely leaving little crescents on her skin. She didn’t even flinch.

Ona sat up straight and then stood up, giving you a look to follow her. You pushed yourself out of the pool and stood facing the slightly taller girl.

Her eyes were dark and hungry, but also warm and welcoming. She had always had that contrast. The one of always being alert and the one of being laid back. It was a strange mix.

The spaniard turned around and moved her loose hair out of the way, brining it to lie on her front. You saw that the back of her suit was tied by a string and slowly, with shaking hands, you lifted them up and grabbed both ends of the tie.

The way the strings fell apart freely and then slipped off Ona’s shoulder sent your body into over drive. You stood with your hands hovering over her bare back until she slowly turned around to face you. Your eyes brushed over her bare chest before landing on her eyes. "You’re beautiful. Tu est tellement parfaite." You told her adoringly. She smiled at you, a big toothy grin before slipping her thumbs under her bikini bottom and pulling it off.

You mimicked her, letting her unclasp the back of your bathing suit and then letting it fall to the ground. She put her hands on your waist and turned you around.

You felt like a ballerina.

A super gay, super secretly in love ballerina.

Ona slipped off your bottoms and then cupped your face gently. "Ready?" she asked you, her voice steady while you knew yours would be hectic. "Yeah," you let out.

Ona went in first, lowering herself to the pool and then turning to face you. You threw a worried glance behind your shoulder, half expecting someone to come in screaming at you both, but no one did. So, you walked down the stairs leading to the pool and pushed your way towards Ona. "I can’t believe we’re doing this," you laughed, avoiding eye contact with her. "I can’t believe your so shy. You’re usually loud and excited. Confident," she added.

"I’m not not confident… this is just new," you said, raising your head.

You gently placed your hands on Ona’s hips and rubbed your thumbs around her hip bone. The taller girl gently pulled you in by pushing your lower back closer to her. You moved your hands up from her hips to her ribs and then down to her ass. "Kiss me," you said to her, looking between her eyes and lips.

She did not have to be begged, within milliseconds her lips were trapped into yours, her hands had found shelter on your ass before slipping down to your thighs to pull your legs around her waist. You roughly kissed back, letting her hands roam your hair and using your abs to hold yourself up onto her. Ona’s hands traced every curve, every perfection, every part of yourself that you deemed an imperfection but she thought beautiful. You wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, playing with her baby hairs and scratching the back of her head with your nails. Ona took strides through the water to drop you onto the side of the pool, only separating your lips when necessary.

"Ona," you said to her tentatively as you sat on the poolside, avoiding her eyes. "Yes, mi amor," she said, holding you down gently by placing her hands on your thighs. "I’ve never… done this before," you said, thankful for the dark sky as your cheeks got flushed. "What do you mean? Sex? You’ve never had sex?" she asked, slightly shocked. "Ona! Of course I have," you groaned, pushing her slightly and making her send you a classic dazzling smile. "I mean something like this. In this setting. This is… daring," you told her. "Well then, you’re in luck pretty girl. Spaniards love the extra risk," she said.

Ona put her hand on your chest and pushed you down into a laying position. The taller girl bends your knees and places kisses on your thighs before spreading them to her liking. She took no time and gave you no warning before slipping a finger into you. You were already wet from her kissing you and un clothing you, your walls closing around her and making her laugh at you.

Ona pumped her middle finger into you, curling it from time to time and making you arch your back and try to grab on to the concrete desperately.

"Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job, cariña," Ona praised.

Her words caught you off guard, your eyes flying open and a small smile forming on your face. Your hips bucked and your legs shook, partly from the oncoming orgasm and partly from the effect of her words. Ona chuckled at you as a wave of courage came over you.

"Ona. I need to come, touch me please," you begged her. "One thing at a time mi vida."

The defender made it seem as though she wouldn’t relieve you immediately, but how wrong you were. A couple seconds later, Ona had pulled out her fingers, leaving you with an uncomfortable empty feeling before pushing her face in between your legs. The brunette swiped her tongue through your lips before harshly pressing it against your clit.

Your hips went flying off the surface, grinding into her head and pushing your wetness more and more into her face. She could have gotten high off your smell and the way you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of her name.

Ona was clearly experienced, the girl finding the perfect balance of sweet spots praise, and pleasure. You never wanted her to stop.

But eventually, when the spaniard dragged her nails over your bare abs and then latched onto your nipple, there was nothing more you could do to elongate the feeling of her face between your legs. You came onto her shaking and crying out, feeling slightly embarrassed at how easily she had made you cum.

Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved heavily, the heat in your stomach slightly fading but the ache in between your legs still present.

You heard movement in the water and soon enough the naked brunette was towering over you. "You did such a good job pretty girl," she said, looking down at you with a teasing smirk.

You knew your face turned bright red when the heat in your stomach transferred to your face.

Ona held out her hand and you grabbed it happily, letting her pull you up. You weren’t on your feet long though as your legs gave out, making Ona grab you underneath the arms and hold you steady. "You okay?" she asked you lovingly, her eyes wide and concerned, hoping not to have hurt you. "Yes. More than, It’s just been a while and you’re…" you gave her a little 'you know' look and she smiled.

Despite being not so tall, she was strong. Before you knew it, you were being carried bridal style towards picnic tables on the pool deck. You rested your head on Ona’s chest and closed your eyes for a couple seconds before opening them. "Wait. I want too- to you. I’m not a pillow princesse," you said to her, looking up. "Another day amor you’re clearly tired," she answered.

The spaniard sat you onto the table and grabbed your towel, gently using it to wipe you down. You surely hadn’t realized how much love was in your eyes as she helped you get dressed into your bathing suit again, but she did. She noticed how dilated your pupils were and how your hands grazed her and held on to her every time she was near.

"Thank you," you told her, leading her to stand between your legs once she was clothed as well. Ona dipped her head and rested it on yours, rubbing her thumb on your cheekbones. You raised yours pull her in by the waist before tilting your head and kissing her sweetly.

[powerful-niya]

— (hαppílч єvєr αftєr.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙰𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝙽𝚊𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊! (𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻)

Link to One-shot Below ↴ Wattpad | AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina 

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡On their honeymoon night, newlyweds Naruto and Hinata Uzumaki indulge in a night of passion, love, and deep intimacy at a luxurious love hotel—a place they had always dreamed of visiting together. 

What begins as a night of pleasure quickly turns into something much more—a physical and emotional awakening, a celebration of their love, and the first of many nights as husband and wife. 

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Affectionate Sex • Anniversary Celebration • Body Worship • Bridal Lingerie • Candlelit Romance • Couple Goals •Clit Play • Cunnilingus • Dirty Talk • Domestic Bliss • Erotic Romance • Fantasies & Fantasizing • Fingering • First Night as Newlyweds • Fluff & Smut • Foreplay • Frottage • Honeymoon • Husband Appreciation • Honeymoon•Husband/Wife • Intimacy • Lingerie • Loss of Control • Love Hotel • Love Making • Marathon Sex • Multiple Orgasms • Newlyweds Bliss • Oral Sex • Overstimulation • Panties • Passionate Sex • Pillow Talk • Power Play • Praise Kink • Sensory Overload • Sixe Difference Kink • Soft Dom!Naruto • Strip Tease • Sub!Hinata • Sweet & Spicy • Tooth-Rotting Fluff • Vaginal Sex • Wedding Anniversary Special • Wholesome • Wife Appreciation • Voice Kink • 2025.

✨March 22, 2025✨

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚12.7K

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚2.1K

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"Congratulations on your marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Uzumaki!"

"Arigatou gozaimasu!"

Those words.

Naruto and Hinata had spoken those words countless times throughout their wedding day—again and again, from morning until night, to smiling faces, to cheering guests, to loved ones beaming with joy. 

They bowed deeply, thanking every well-wisher, every elder, every dear friend who had come to witness the moment they had waited for their entire lives.

And yet—no matter how many times they heard it. Congratulations!

No matter how many times they said it. Thank you!

It never lost its magic.

Never dulled.

Never stopped feeling surreal.

It was like a dream they never wanted to wake up from. Like something too beautiful, too perfect, too vast to fit inside a single day.

They were married.

Finally, undeniably, irrevocably bound to one another.

Tied together by fate, by love, by the very vows they had exchanged beneath the sky.

Today and always. 

Even now, with the wedding behind them and their honeymoon finally in full swing, their hands remained locked together, fingers tightly intertwined—just as they had been hours ago—

Standing beneath the altar.

Exchanging the very wedding bands that now shimmered on their fingers.

The wedding ceremony had been long, yet it unfolded so gracefully, so beautifully, stretching through the day in a haze of indescribable emotions—and neither of them would have had it any other way.

Every moment had been perfect.

From the slow, breathtaking walk to the altar—where, for the first time all day, their eyes truly met, seeing each other not just as Hinata and Naruto, but as bride and groom…

…as two souls about to become one. 

To their wedding vows—spoken in trembling voices, with blushing cheeks and teary eyes, each word drawn not just from the heart, but from the very depths of their souls. 

To the way their hands trembled as they slipped their wedding bands onto each other's fingers, to the thunderous applause and joyful cheers that erupted the moment their lips finally met in their first kiss as husband and wife.

They could still remember it vividly. The way it felt.

Deep.

Warm.

All-consuming.

Where the rest of the world faded into nothing, where time itself seemed to pause, where there was no one else, nothing else—only them.

And then finally—

The reception. 

An evening overflowing with joy and laughter, surrounded by their dearest friends and family. An evening where cups upon cups of sake were poured and savored, where glasses clinked high in the air, voices lifting in heartfelt toasts, and embarrassing stories spilled freely. 

Much to Naruto and Hinata's dismay. 

They ate and ate until their bellies were full, danced until their legs could barely hold them up, and laughed until their tummies ached, tears glistening at the corners of their eyes.—

Until breathlessness became bliss.

Until they were lost in the magic of the night, carried away until the stars shone high above them.

Yes.

Every moment had been exactly as they had imagined.

Exactly as they had wanted. 

A perfect day.

A perfect beginning to their forever.

And now, with nightfall upon them, it was time to unwind. 

To indulge.

To finally enjoy a night that belonged to no one else but them.

A sleek gold key slid smoothly across the counter, the soft scrape of metal against polished wood filling the space between them. It came to a halt just inches from where Naruto and Hinata stood, catching the warm, rose-tinted glow of the lights above.

Their gazes dropped.

There, resting against the polished counter, was their hotel key, and dangling from it, a small, heart-shaped keychain—a detail so charming, so deceptively innocent, it almost felt out of place.

Naruto chuckled, "Heh, cute."

He cast a sideways glance down at his wife, his grin widening at the sight of her flushed cheeks, the way her lavender eyes lingered on the key on the counter—though her expression told a different story. 

Because while the key itself may have seemed sweet and cutesy—

The place it led to?

Not so much.

The engraving on the key glinted under the low, intimate lighting, the delicate letters etched into its surface reflecting back at them—

"Suite 707."

"Your room has been set up exactly as requested," the hotel receptionist chirped, the words flowing effortlessly from her lips—as if she'd recited those words a thousand times before.

She was young, poised, with red lips painted into a welcoming smile and chestnut-brown hair pulled into a high, sleek bun, not a single strand out of place.

Her blouse hugged her curves, emphasizing a rather generous bust, and the way she leaned forward just slightly, elbows resting delicately on the counter, told them everything they needed to know.

She was eager for her job.

Perhaps, a little too eager.

From the moment Naruto and Hinata stepped inside, from the second her gaze landed on their glistening wedding bands, her demeanor had been rather…playful.

Naruto sensed it—the way her eyes lingered, watching them just a little too closely.

Like she had seen hundreds of newlyweds before them.

Some shy.

Some bold.

Some still caught in the daze of saying "I do."

But something about Naruto and Hinata amused her more than the rest. 

Maybe it was the way Naruto's grip on Hinata's hand never wavered, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles over her knuckles—gentle, yet possessive.

Or maybe it was the way Hinata's cheeks flushed so easily, her lavender eyes flickering with something soft, unsure—yet undeniably excited.

Maybe it was the eagerness thrumming between them.

The quiet thrill of their first night as husband and wife.

Or maybe, it was simply the fact that they had been waiting for this moment for so long—waiting to come here.

They had talked about this place for years, wondered what it would be like, joked about making the trip one day.

And now, as husband and wife—they were finally here.

The Secret Garden.

A love hotel.

A five-star one, too.

It was a hidden oasis, tucked away in the southernmost reaches of Kyushu, Japan—where the air was constantly warm, the nights stretched long, and the sea breeze carried the kind of temptation that lingered like the burn of good sake.

This was no ordinary hotel.

Wasn't for hurried travelers, tired businessmen, or even families on vacation. 

No. 

This place was built solely for lovers. 

A place where intimacy thrived behind closed doors.

Where secrecy was expected.

Where pleasure was promised.

Where desire was indulged.

A retreat for couples who wanted to disappear, to exist in a world of their own making—if only for a little while.

And just stepping into the reception area promised exactly that.

Soft, ambient lighting glowed from rose-gold chandeliers. The walls were draped in deep red velvet, the fabric rich and indulgent, meeting plush, matching cushions that lined the elegant chairs in the seating area.

Beneath their feet, the marble floor gleamed, smooth and cool—a striking contrast to the warmth that pulsed through the air, creeping into their cheeks, blooming deep within their chests. 

Flowers were everywhere. 

Makes sense, given the love hotel's name.

Many were arranged in elegant vases, others draped along the walls, cascading in lush, flowing garlands. Some were even woven into a breathtaking petal arch, framing the grand entrance to the lobby.

Their fragrance filled almost every corner of the building—so fresh, so sweet, so intoxicating.

And if that wasn't enough—there were other scents, too.

Subtle hints of rosewood and vanilla.

Not overwhelming, but just enough.

Enough to latch onto the senses.

Enough to sink beneath the skin.

Enough to warm the chest and make the eyes feel just a little heavier, a little hazier.

Like…an aphrodisiac.

Here and there, the walls were adorned with intimate artwork—portraits of lovers entwined, their bodies bare, sculpted in soft, artistic depictions of passion.

It was beautiful.

It was sensual.

It was exactly the kind of place Naruto and Hinata had always wanted to visit.

And for the next few weeks—it was all theirs.

"I truly hope you two enjoy your stay." The receptionist’s voice rose once more, her nails drumming lightly against the desk—a soft, rhythmic click, click, click.

"And if you need anything—" She paused, her red lips curling with amusement, "Anything at all—just dial zero."

Hinata's cheeks burned, her blush deepening, turning her as red as a ripe tomato. Heat crawled up her neck, spreading like fire throughout her entire body.

She couldn't shake it.

The jittery excitement.

The nervous, overwhelming anticipation sat buried deep in her chest, its grip tightening, coiling deeper with every thought, every breath, every passing second.

It's finally happened.

She was finally a wife.

Newly married.

Still adorned with the soft flush of her wedding makeup, her midnight-blue hair cascading in elegant waves down her back, crowned by a delicate headband woven with white camellias, baby's breath, and soft pink forget-me-nots—a floral arrangement as gentle and precious, as she was.

Her wedding gown was gone, exchanged for something lighter, more comfortable—a simple white sundress, one that still carried the grace, the beauty, and the full essence of a bride.

Finally, married.

Married to the man of her dreams.

It didn't feel real.

But it was real.

Hinata felt like freaking out.

Like fainting.

Like crying, laughing, or maybe spinning in circles and screaming at the top of her lungs, declaring to the entire world just how unbelievably happy she was. 

But even that—even all of that—wouldn't come close to capturing the depth of what she felt.

Kami.

On second thought… she just might faint.

But just as her world threatened to slip away into darkness, a gentle squeeze to her hand pulled her back, keeping her grounded for the one last second she needed.

"You okay, Hina?"

She blinked, her thoughts still struggling to catch up to reality.

Her gaze snapped up to Naruto's.

Somewhere along the way, he had already finished up with the receptionist, their adorably themed room key now dangling between his fingers.

She nodded, still breathless. 

"Yeah… it's just surreal." She acknowledged in total disbelief, "We talked about this for so long, always saying we'd come here someday, and now…"

"We're finally here," Naruto murmured, finishing the thought for her, "About to treat ourselves."

He leaned in, his warmth sinking deep, lips grazing her ear as his voice dropped—low, rough, just how she liked.

"All night long."

A slow, delicious heat coiled deep in her stomach, spreading lower, settling right between her thighs.

She knew exactly what that meant.

Hinata barely had a second to process before strong hands wrapped around her, lifting her effortlessly off her feet.

A startled giggle spilled from her lips.

Her body crashed against Naruto's solid chest, her legs tucked securely in his muscular arms, cradled bridal style.

Hinata barely had time to loop her arms around his neck before he was already on the move, carrying her quickly toward the lobby's elevator.

Behind the desk, the receptionist giggled, watching the newlyweds rush off in their excitement. 

"Have fun, you two~!" She called after them, lifting a hand in a playful wave.

But neither of them noticed.

They were lost in their own little world now.

Hinata laughed, breathless, her face pressing into his shoulder, his warmth seeping through the fabric of his suit. 

"N-Naruto-kun!" She gasped between breathless giggles, trying to contain the fluttering in her chest.

His grin widened, his hold on her tightening just a little more.

"C'mon, Hina," Naruto scoffed playfully, flashing her a toothy, mischievous grin, "You didn't really think I'd let you use those pretty little legs of yours to walk, did ya?" A deep, rumbling chuckle rolled through his chest, the sound vibrating against her, sinking into her skin.

His fingers flexed teasingly against her thighs, bunching up the soft fabric of her white dress beneath his calloused hands.

"Nah, not a chance." He shook his head, his spiky blonde locks bouncing with the motion, "Not on our honeymoon."

He jostled her playfully in his grip, making her squeal, her laughter spilling out even louder, drawing a few curious glances from nearby guests. Hinata's cheeks burned at the sight, mortification creeping up her neck, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't stop giggling.

"Naruto-kun! P-People are looking!" She whispered embarrassingly, burying her face against his neck, her warm breath fanning over his skin.

Naruto only grinned, completely unfazed, not even sparing the onlookers a second glance.

"Let 'em look, hime."

He leaned in a little closer, his lips brushing dangerously close to her ear. 

"All I want you to do," He murmured, his voice low, hot, "is sit back, relax, and let your husband do the honors—"

His smirk deepened, his grip firm and steady as he finally carried her through the open elevator doors.

"Let me take you to our room the right way."

Continue Reading on Wattpad Or AO3.

||Previous. ||

||🖤𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓜𝓮, 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓜𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷🖤||

[seneon]

SAVIOUR OF NIGHTMARES ──── rin itoshi × fem! reader

about. in which, a consumer of nightmares saves the delver. made in abyss! au. reader is half-narehate (hollow). ooc rin. kind of fluff. wc of 900+

notes. ( wrote this back in june during my made in abyss hyperfixation ) anyways i love mia and belaf and and and. tagging @sweetheartsaku, @anqelically, @choccorin !!

nightmares. something that he always has. not even in a blue moon or occasionally, but almost every day. every day of his life the moment he shuts his eyes, it is as if a nightmare demon has favoured him and punctured the idea of horrifying dreams into the mind.

not a single day passes without a single speck of a blood-curdling image just roaming around at the back of his mind, awaiting to display like an inescapable horror movie.

in those nightmares, itoshi rin sometimes dreams of the worst possible outcome of the pit, the abyss. but mostly and the worst of all, his brother. as a delver of the black whistle, he fears almost nothing, except for the end of himself failing to his brother.

of course, you need no fear of being at the level of a white whistle. just like his brother. rin only exists to beat his brother, even if sae has gotten a white whistle a few years ago, rin still did not receive one.

it only meant that rin isn't at that level of his brother yet. his brother who has travelled with the most legendary delvers like ozen the immovable, or lyza the annihilator. rin was tempted to descend into a white whistle.

little did the itoshi know, his dreams and goals would only steer further away from him as his nightmares grew worse and worse every night. even now— as his mind swirled with the darkest days where he had a conflict with his brother. an argument that would change rin to be the way he is.

he still dreams of it until this day. even if the younger itoshi’s inner feelings say otherwise, his feelings of hatred are more prominent than the ones of love and affection. that was how horrible it has become until his hatred has formed into a demon in his mind that vomits nightmares into rin.

the delver shifted in his sleeping mattress, sweat already formed from the anxiety that his mind played through. his closed eyelids would occasionally move, eyebrows scrunching in a sense of pain.

“i can save you from your nightmares,” a feminine voice called through the audio of the horror playthrough, as rin remained silent. “just give me a little love.”

huh?

give who a little love?

who is speaking to rin?

“i can help you tonight, and every other night. you just have to give me your love in return.”

tempting, but extremely suspicious. is this another dream trying to coexist with his nightmare about his elder brother? is this possible? a mysterious voice that blocks out all other noises and only speaks to rin himself.

it doesn't matter, rin needed the hellish punishments of a nightmare to cease at this moment. so he agreed, even if he didn't know how to agree with him, the voice responded to him and he could physically feel as if his dreams were being lifted from the insides of his brains.

then, cold yet gentle fingers touched the skin of the itoshi, gently cupping his face to caress his soft skin. you then leaned down on the sleeping form of the delver and placed a soft kiss onto his lips. pulling away not to be distracted by anything else, you placed your forehead on his as your noses touched.

rin felt a cool air on his forehead. it slowly seeped into his forehead and sunk into his mind, giving his mind a place of peace. it was like all his bad memories and all the nightmares he has to sleep through has been frozen by the cool air just as it was all replaced with utter calmness instead of calamity.

for the first time in years, he finally had peace while his eyes were shut. his eyelids weren't shaking or struggling to keep awake or fall asleep into hell, but they were still and peaceful.

you watched in curiousity at the human male, a delver with a black whistle. you wondered, why is he not a white whistle yet? he is already in such a deep layer into the abyss. someone with his survivor skill is bound to own a white whistle.

at least, that's what you knew from the previous white whistle delvers that you've met along the way. you shifted rin’s messy bangs. but the moment you pull your hands away from his face, he grabs your hand gently.

“is it you? the one who punctured peace into my mind.”

you nodded. “i only consumed your nightmares because you consented to it.”

rin’s teal eyes looked up at your hovering form. still in a sluggish state, he scans your being. he couldn't tell if you are human or a creature of the abyss, for he is only focused on one thing.

“you are so beautiful... ” he said, letting go of your hands to shift them to your face. “you are my saviour, aren't you?”

as a narehate, you felt yourself blushing at the human teenager who held your face in his own arms. his voice and words too, were hypnotising, as if they were coated in honey and you are a bee not resisting them.

this human, a black whistle delver, itoshi rin, he's yours. yours the moment you laid your eyes on him through the force fields of the abyss as you watched him ventured until this layer. it was simply fate that brought the two of you together.

rin was even willing to love you for an eternity and become a narehate himself if you'll prevent and save him from having hellish nightmares. even if you become a white instrument for the male, he'll do anything for you.

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[sole-production-ut]

Doomed by the same cruel fate

Star Duo – duo of two characters linked by a common destiny, Star!Chara and Star!Sans. Each of them has experienced a different loss, blamed on Load Glitch.

Their story

Star!Sans, or Star, was originally an ordinary Sans like many. In his universe, he was a captain of the royal guard and dreamed of how, together with his brother, a scientist, they could finally reach the surface. But fate dealt his world differently. Load Glitch, the enslaver of universes, came to their world. At first they tried to destroy him, but all these attempts were ultimately futile. His world was doomed to destruction. When there was almost nothing left to save, the defenders of the multiverse arrived. They, led by Undyne with 7 souls, managed to drive Load out of Sans's homeworld, but by then 90% of the inhabitants had been slaughtered. Sans lost all of his family and friends, his body was damaged and non-fighting. The survivors were evacuated to the Omega Timeline, but it didn't help Sans. From his own helplessness, Sans went on a bender. He wanted only one thing: revenge, but without strength, that goal was impossible to realise. It was then that Sans heard that there was a doctor who had incredible healing technologies. Sans did not have high hopes, but he was willing to try. He went in search of the unknown doctor and when he found him, the doctor agreed to ‘fix’ him, but in return Sans pledged to do the doctor's errands. Sans agreed. His body went through painful changes, but eventually Sans regained his lost bones and also gained a new magic eye. His journey of vengeance began and he set out in search of Load Glitch, driven by pain and regret. But the longer his search lasted, the more his soul healed from his loss. Gradually, his obsession with revenge turned into one of life's goals, which he pursued while remembering to think of other responsibilities as well. But he had to face the past again when he met Star!Chara.

Star!Chara became Star!Sans's partner. In his world he survived by Asriel resetting, but this resulted in Asriel being erased from the history of his world and Chara yearned to bring him back, resetting time every time failure befell him. It took tens of attempts and a timeline where he almost managed to recreate Asriel from scratch until Load Glitch came to his world. Taking over Chara's world was extremely easy for him, as was destroying it. But he didn't have time to kill Chara, for Star arrived to help and was able to repel Load Glitch's attack. The latter retreated, but all of Chara's hopes and dreams crumbled. He lost the chance to get his brother back and he, like Star in the past, became consumed with revenge. It was for this reason that Star took him into his custody. Not only because their goals matched, but because he wanted to help Chara not repeat the same mistakes he had made in the past. Chara doubted him, but accepted the offer.

So they became partners whose goal is to stop the chaos that Load Glitch is causing and get revenge on him.

Their personalities

Star!Sans is very much like the classic Sans, but instead of lazy, he has the fighting spirit of Undyne. If someone needs help, he will help without assessing the consequences of problems. At this point in time, Sans is peaceful and calm, is able to judge his own fights, and is always willing to train someone. During fights, he often likes to joke about his opponents, the only exception being Load Glitch. In earlier periods he was extremely dark, apathetic and fixated on his own revenge. It was only later, when he realised how destructive his own worldview could be to those around him, that his views changed.

Star!Chara is the opposite of Star!Sans. He is detached and thinks only of himself at all times. He does not see his own actions as wrong, thinking that he is acting on the basis that it is the ‘best choice’ he could have made. Contact with alternate Asriels is extremely difficult for him, due to the fact that he cannot accept the real Asriel he had in any of them. He is constantly wrapped up in thoughts of Load Glitch's revenge, which Star!Sans tries to put out of his mind at times, knowing his experience. Star!Chara doesn't consider Star!Sans as an associate, but only uses him for his own gain to get to Load Glitch. He doesn't think about what he will do after he exacts his revenge.

Their abilities

Star!Sans lost Gaster Blasters and blue magic, but a new eye gave him new abilities.

Purple bones

These differ from the usual blue ones in that they produce a powerful explosion when they come in contact with a target or at Sans' will.

Blue bones

Can immobilize an enemy.

Regular bones

Classic bone attacks. Sans's favourite weapon is the bone staff.

Teleportation

Can teleport anywhere within the confines of a single reality/universe.

Royalguard Experience + Strength

His experience is similar to Undyne's experience as captain of the royal guard and the rank of one of the physically strongest monsters, and he actively uses this in every fight he has.

Star!Chara, after merging his soul and his brother, has been given a huge potential of abilities. Load Glitch destroyed Chara's ability to reset, but he still has the rest of his powers.

Chaos Blades

Incredibly sharp blades capable of chopping even steel. Multiple ones can be created at once.

Death Stars

Similar to Star Blazing, but emits red coloured stars.

Shocker Destroyer

Similar to Shocker Breaker, but with the red colour and the fact that the charge from the attack remains on the target for a while and can be reused.

Hyper Hate

Similar to Hyper Goner, but smaller in shape and unstable. Extremely rare to use.

Fallen Angel Form

In this form, Chara's body is covered in black cracks, a large heart appears on her chest, and wings similar to those of Asriel's Angel of Death form grow out of her back.

Additional information

Initially, the characters were part of the Underverse(Fan) project, which closed. Current versions are rebooted for Chaoticverse.

In the Underverse(Fan) they were from the same au.

The star on Sans' face is not painted. It's an integral part of his skull.

Sans's fighting style is partially similar to Bojutsu.

Unlike the usual mergers of monster and human souls in fandom, there is no spirit or mind of Asriel inside Chara. Only his memories.

[hailturinturambar]

Sauron's trajectory in The Rings of Power

Well, this analysis took a little longer. But better late than never, right? Just like Elrond and Míriel, this analysis is not about dynamics or relationships.

But an analysis of who Sauron is, or rather, who he once was and what led to him becoming The Lord of the Rings.

Long before Sauron lived in Middle-earth and sowed chaos and violence against all peoples, he lived in Valinor. In the Beginning of Time, when Arda was young and the Valar lived in Valinor, Sauron was an apprentice.

Mairon, he was called, was one of the Maiar of Aulë. And he was one of the most powerful. A great smith in mind and power was Sauron, and he learned much in his time as an apprentice.

Mairon, then, always sought perfection and judged everything that did not achieve his greatest goals. This would prove to be his greatest flaw, which would lead him to betray all who once trusted him.

For in Melkor, the most powerful of the Valar, Sauron found his match. The one who would lead him to achieve his goals. When Melkor departed from Valinor and ruled in Middle-earth once more, Sauron departed, declaring his support for the Dark Vala.

In the First Age of Arda, Sauron was known by many names. Gorthaur he was also, to the Elves of Beleriand. And all his names, like his deeds, were accursed. For Sauron was Morgoth's greatest and most trusted lieutenant, and his deeds were as wicked as his master's.

Sauron also took many forms to deceive his enemies. Many facets of a being who sees nothing but power and victory. And he was present at many of Middle-earth's tragedies. And when Morgoth was defeated one last time by the Valar, Sauron was alone.

He might be able to find forgiveness, but was that enough? Sauron, like Lucifer, had brought about his own downfall because his pride was too great. And he was determined to continue Morgoth's deeds, to succeed where he had failed. To heal Middle-earth.

Morgoth Reborn, he aspired to be. Gaining control of the Orcs created by Morgoth and all evil creatures in Middle-earth, Sauron would now assume his new position, the new Dark Lord.

In the Second Age of Arda, Sauron was ready to rule and heal Middle-earth, as far as healing was possible according to his standards. However, Morgoth was a Valar, a god according to the beliefs. Sauron, while powerful, did not inspire the same level of power and devotion as his former master.

It is in Adar that Sauron will seek to gain sufficient strength. For Adar is like a Father to the Orcs, his Uruks. If Adar is loyal to Sauron, his sons will follow him into battle. Before Morgoth's destruction, Sauron was there when Adar was remade, and reached out to him.

Probably, on some twisted level in Sauron's mind, Adar was like a friend, an ally. Someone who should return his favor. To my mind, at the moment when Sauron is being crowned, he seems visibly insecure.

An insecurity, understandable, even. Once an apprentice, and now master of all things. A very heavy burden, but Sauron's ambition is greater. And with Adar, I suspect he sought some kind of support, of companionship.

However, Sauron knows only his wants and desires and nothing more. To heal Middle-earth, yes, some Orcs must die, but for Sauron, it is a small price. But not for Adar. And this is the point of no return between former allies. Adar, behind Sauron's back, I bet fearing that he would be as wicked to his Uruks as Morgoth had been, plots his downfall.

Vulnerable, yet powerful, Sauron succumbs to the attacks of the Orcs. Sauron, however, as a Maia, does not live confined to his form, to his body. His power is much more than flesh. His former flesh may have been destroyed, but Sauron survives.

For ages, for centuries, Sauron is a virtually non-existent life form, a disembodied consciousness, dragging itself along for centuries. I quite appreciated the analogy of Sauron needing to feed on other creatures to survive. In a way, Sauron is like a parasite, always consuming his host until there is nothing left.

Sauron spent many centuries almost asleep, powerless. Now, he has returned and he must choose which path to follow. His form has been restored and he can either pick up where he left off, or accept this second chance and start over.

Honestly, it is not something Sauron is capable of understanding. He was given a second chance before, he just had to ask the Valar for forgiveness. But he never tried.

Sauron, alone once again, sets out. Wandering for a long time, anger and hatred taint his desires. Adar betrayed him, destroyed his body, and made him an undefined and inferior being for countless centuries. Sauron needs to recover what is rightfully his and destroy the man who destroyed him first.

By intervention of the Valar or mere chance of fate, Sauron comes across wanderers who had their homes and lands destroyed by the Orcs. They are setting out in search of a new beginning, far from the destruction of Middle-earth.

I really like the theories about Diarmid being a mysterious representative of the Valar. Because in this way, we can believe that Sauron was presented with a new chance, a new beginning.

Because in Beyond the Sea, there are lands where a man can choose to start over and be better. Sauron, still lost, still without a defined purpose, sets out with Men.

Setting sail for what we believe to be Númenor, the ship is attacked. Come on, I have a few different theories about this event. Perhaps the Valar attacked the ship, and Ulmo tried to stop Sauron from finding Númenor and poisoning the last Men still connected to the heritage of the Valar's allies.

Or, perhaps, fate simply happened, and the Serpent attacked the ship. I've said it many times and I'll say it again, it may mean nothing, but loose ends, or holes, are great for creating new assessments. The Serpent destroyed the ship, but it moved away from Sauron.

An acknowledgement, perhaps? Of the evil and profane being that was in the waters. Because if this is the same Serpent (which I believe it is) present at Míriel's trial, it is loyal to the Valar. Or, perhaps, as a master of all creatures, Sauron was able to keep the Serpent away and survive, while Men were attacked.

What matters is that Sauron survived. Along with him, a few mortals accompany him on a raft, lost and adrift. The fate of everyone in Arda is linked and whether they are responsible for the encounter, Galadriel reaches Sauron.

And when Galadriel finds the raft, she does not know that she is falling into the clutches of her greatest enemy. Sauron is as old as Arda, and I have no doubt that he recognized Galadriel. When he looks at her, he could not (if he were a mortal man) realize that she is an Elf.

Yet he looks at her intently and his words are enigmatic. Did he recognize her? I believe he did, and it was then that Sauron found his purpose again.

As with Adar, Sauron sees a purpose in Galadriel, someone who can lead him to achieve his goals. He was obviously aware of Galadriel's hatred for him, as were all the Elves. However, this form is not Sauron, but Halbrand.

A man without lands, without a past, a blank canvas for his future goals. To gain Galadriel's help, Sauron needs to remove the obstacles in his path. And for me, the obstacles were the humans on the raft.

Why did the Serpent strike again? In my opinion, Sauron wanted this, so everyone perished, leaving only him and Galadriel, of all the survivors. No one else could unmask Sauron's past, because no one alive knows Halbrand.

Sauron tells Galadriel about his land, destroyed and taken by the Orcs, nothing but ashes now. And, strange as it may seem, Sauron was being truthful. Yes, his lands were taken, he lost everything, and he was forced to wander the world. However, this is not the truth Galadriel expected to know.

But it is the truth that Sauron can offer. Sauron did not become known as the Great Deceiver for nothing. With Adar, Sauron recognized what he most desired, and now he is doing the same with Galadriel.

He sees her desire, her revenge, her anger, and he exploits it. Telling the truth covered by lies from his past, acting as if nothing else matters.

And the new obstacle arises, a great storm. An event of chance or intervention? Because it seems that storms always follow Sauron at sea. Much is thought about why Sauron saved Galadriel. In my opinion, Sauron saved Galadriel because he needed her.

Sauron is always looking for people who will be useful. Like Melkor, Adar, Orcs and now Galadriel. She is his chance to start over and conquer all that he has lost. But, unbeknownst to Galadriel, when Halbrand saves her, she has found an ally.

Not even Sauron can see all the paths, but he is indeed always favored by fate. Galadriel and Halbrand are found by Elendil of Númenor. In the books, it is said that Sauron feared Númenor. Númenor represents a threat to Sauron, a risk to his control over Middle-earth, and now he is leaving for it.

Halbrand does not matter to the people of Númenor, they are too blinded by the presence of Galadriel, an Elf, in their lands. At this point, Sauron may simply disappear. If we are to be faithful to the books, I cannot believe the idea that Sauron wanted to start over in Númenor.

Start over in Númenor with the Scepter in his hand? Yes. But as a mortal? Never. After all, this is Sauron, greatest and most terrible lieutenant of Morgoth, great smith, master of beasts, the Great Deceiver. If he refused the Valar's forgiveness, he would never live as a common mortal in Númenor.

Sauron is very good at letting others fight on his behalf, and I think this will become even more evident in season two. While Galadriel is fighting in Númenor, demanding answers and help, Sauron is just enjoying the moment. A vacation, right? After all those centuries of crawling around in a damp cave.

In Númenor, he is an unknown, Galadriel may scream that he is the Lost King, but Sauron is not worried, he just lets things happen. He pretends not to care, to be determined to start over and live a free life.

I believe that, without Sauron realizing it, Galadriel's trust in him encourages him. It is always good to have faithful servants around you. Galadriel believes that fate acted on their behalf, crossing their paths. Probably not, not in the way she expects, but still, it is enough for him.

Halbrand is walking through Númenor, being pleasant and winning over everyone. His disguise is always carefully calculated. He also acts as a friend to Galadriel, helping her discover what Míriel is hiding. At this moment, Sauron shows his true face. By betraying Galadriel, Sauron earns his place among the smiths.

It must have been intoxicating for Sauron to be with the smiths once more, doing what he is most experienced and powerful at. I imagine that over time, Sauron hoped to gain the esteem and trust of the people of Númenor, and eventually conquer the island.

Yet his life takes a different turn, because Galadriel tells Míriel who she believes he is. Halbrand says he has no desire to return to Middle-earth, to the place where he lost everything. An act? Perhaps. Sauron is good at deception, and perhaps he just wanted Galadriel to believe he was being forced by her.

He emphasizes that Galadriel wants to crown him, but that this is not something he wants. Lies? I bet so. Everything with Sauron, even the truths, are distorted by his lies. Sauron is playing his role very well, his facade of a defeated Halbrand.

His refusal only intensifies Galadriel's attempts, only increases her desperation. I believe that it was at this moment that Galadriel lowered her barriers against Halbrand, to convince him to leave with her.

Because by being honest with him, she showed all her pain, all her suffering. And he shares his. For Galadriel, they are creating a bond, understanding each other. But I will never completely believe Sauron's actions.

Sauron then, after all his reluctance and denial, sets off for Middle-earth. He must be present in the fight against Adar; it is his moment to get his revenge, to destroy the traitor who destroyed him. I doubt he would stay in Númenor while everyone pursues his enemy.

And in Middle-earth, Halbrand is revered. There he is, fighting alongside the Sea People, an Elf, saving those people from the hands of Adar and the Orcs.

He protects them, as mortals see it, from their enemies, without knowing that Sauron is their greatest enemy. Galadriel is essential to Halbrand's role as a hero; the prestige of an Elf is the ideal mask for him.

It must have been almost impossible for Sauron to control himself, having to face Adar, without Adar knowing who he was, what he took from him, without being able to kill his enemy.

But Sauron holds himself back; he is great at maintaining his facade. The lost king, the man who lost everything, the man who has a feud with Adar.

Adar has been captured and Halbrand shares his grief with Galadriel. Once again Galadriel is letting her barriers down, believing in Halbrand, believing that she is being seen by him, and that she is no longer alone.

Did Sauron feel a connection with Galadriel? Perhaps, for me, this connection was born from the thought that he had found a kindred spirit, someone seeking power like him, the same as he had with Melkor. And thanks to Galadriel, everyone believes that Sauron is truly their king.

However, even with all his deceptions, I do not think Sauron expected Adar to awaken the volcano. Sauron is quick to adapt and he uses everything to his advantage, to his own benefit. Galadriel and Sauron were separated by Adar's surprise attack, but that doesn't faze him, not when Galadriel finds her friend injured and in need of help.

Galadriel, no doubt, trusted Halbrand enough to take him to an elven city. As in Númenor, once again Galadriel is leading Sauron to his goals. He doesn't have to do anything. In her solitude, in her search for understanding and companionship, Galadriel served Sauron's purposes perfectly.

The end of all things happens in Eregion. Sauron, unlike in the books, arrives accompanied by Galadriel, just a wounded mortal, trusted by King Gil-galad's Commander, who could not be better for him.

Sauron is now where he needs to be, and his deception leaves Galadriel, he now needs someone else. Celebrimbor, the greatest of the elven smiths, the one who can help Sauron. His deception begins, disguised as friendship, always friendship.

And Halbrand is always very convincing. He has deceived Galadriel, Miriel, Númenor, and now even Celebrimbor. The Rings are being forged, but Galadriel no longer trusts Halbrand as much.

Galadriel has become a threat, a risk to Sauron. She can choose two paths, ally with Sauron and take part in the reconstruction of Middle-earth, or be destroyed.

Sauron is clever and tries to convince Galadriel, to prove his point, to make her believe that his way is the only way. As always, right? She can now see the deception and refuses to be with him, in his dirty plan for control and domination.

He needs to destroy her, then. Sauron is driven by his rage, if he loses an ally, he will not rest before destroying that person. He leaves Galadriel to drown, to die for having rejected his offer. Sauron's path takes a new direction. His new victim is Adar, and he sets out from Eregion.

Far from the Elves of Eregion, Sauron walks towards Mordor. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? To me, Sauron went to Mordor for many reasons.

His cover was blown, yes. But he could also have wanted to see the kingdom that Adar was creating, how the Orcs responded to him, how everything worked. Field research, you might say.

He maintains his role as the king who only wants the best for his people, who accept being put behind bars by them. Sauron knows how to create allies even in the most unlikely moments.

Who knows, maybe he just wanted to prove to Adar that he had returned, that he could not be killed. I doubt that Adar still believed Halbrand's facade. At first? Yes, but no, not now.

They both play a long game, pretending not to know the truth about each other, and Sauron tells lies, claims to know where Sauron is (how ironic!) and leaves Adar's camp as a free man. Sauron is the master of his fate, and he is more convincing than the others thought.

Halbrand is free to go, and mortals still know him as their king, the king who continued to fight for them. But his goals now are different; he must reach Eregion before Galadriel destroys everything.

In her shame, Galadriel hid Halbrand's true identity, which greatly favored Sauron. He must have imagined that she would continue to lie, too ashamed.

That was all it took for him to reach Eregion unstopped, unfeared. Because Galadriel may have told others not to trust him, but they never knew what they were truly up against. The Elves are fighting their own battles, it is the perfect time for Sauron to act.

In Eregion, Sauron faces a new obstacle, because Galadriel warned Celebrimbor before he left. At this point, Sauron must have decided that he needed a new disguise.

But his deception is gradually taking hold. He shows Mirdania a different face. A wounded mortal man who has been through much and simply needs help. Mirdania, unaware of Halbrand's true nature, feels sorry for him.

Like Galadriel before her, Mirdania is a means to his ends, someone who speaks for him, who defends him, who makes others believe that he is who he says he is. She plays a great role in her innocence.

Celebrimbor, however, is harder to convince, because he truly trusts Galadriel. Celebrimbor may have appreciated Halbrand's knowledge, but he will not be convinced by that alone.

To buy time, Sauron needs to isolate Eregion, delaying the arrival of the other Elves, and of Adar's army. Celebrimbor, through the influence of Mirdania, also takes pity on Halbrand.

This is his greatest mistake, believing Sauron's delicate and persuasive words, his great talk. And Sauron knows how to deceive Celebrimbor, appealing to his pride.

It is a great honor to receive an emissary of the Valar, someone who recognizes Celebrimbor's art. As said above, Sauron always recognizes the weak points of his victims, what they most yearn for, what they most desire.

Having gained Celebrimbor's trust, Sauron cannot help but put his plan into action. If Sauron is to heal Middle-earth, he must control the wills and minds of all beings.

His work as an emissary then begins. He tells of how the Rings helped the Elves and how they can help the Dwarves, who have been affected by Adar's actions.

But unlike the Three Elven Rings, Sauron has his part in creating and corrupting them. The Dwarves are not easy to convince, not like the Elves, who have been desperate for help for much longer.

Sauron, however, always achieves his goals and Celebrimbor invites the Dwarves and speaks on behalf of Annatar, on behalf of the Elves, about how the Rings will change everything for them. In their desperation, they agree and Sauron once again seizes more victims.

The Rings for the Dwarves have been made, but it is not enough for Sauron. He is insatiable, he always wants more. More servants, more subjects, more power.

And time is not entirely on his side, Adar may arrive in Eregion before all the Rings are ready and Sauron cannot take that risk.

So he uses his mask once again, of the defeated emissary, who only wants the good of Middle-earth, but he is so insistent that he ends up making mistakes. Celebrimbor is no longer so confident in his friend's intentions.

However, Sauron will not lose Celebrimbor's help and trust, as he lost Galadriel's. He appeals to the Ancient Times, to the great heroes.

In his greed, Sauron no longer needs only the Rings of the Dwarves, he wants Rings for Men. Celebrimbor, of course, does not agree, is too dangerous.

The Rings for Men will be forged, even if Celebrimbor does not help them. Whether it is part of Sauron's plan to convince Celebrimbor, or simply a lack of actual success, the Rings do not work.

Time is running out, and Sauron is wasting time. Mirdania, by chance, sees Sauron's true evil. I don't think he expected this. Perhaps he does not thought someone could see through the deception.

He cannot risk her discovering the truth, not when he is so close to achieving his goal. So, as with all who have crossed his path, Sauron persuades Mirdania.

Convincing her that Celebrimbor is the true evil, that the Rings have cost him dearly. Thus, once again, Sauron is gaining more allies, convincing more people to speak for him.

Celebrimbor is forced to participate in the creation of the Rings, he does not even realize how he is being influenced by Sauron until it is too late.

Eregion is under attack, and as a good leader, Annatar decides that it is time for Celebrimbor to be alone, in peace, forging the Rings. Let Annatar take care of the city, of the attacks, he can solve everything.

As long as Celebrimbor finishes the Rings, before Adar arrives. Annatar is a figure of importance, of power. Everyone ends up believing his word, his truth.

Sauron is convincing wherever he goes, be it Númenor, Middle-earth, or Eregion, he never fails to achieve his goals. However, Celebrimbor is not his only problem.

The Dwarves are a risk to his success, after they begin to distrust Annatar's Rings. Is that why he decided to let them meet their own destruction? Probably. If they are not his allies, Sauron does not need them.

For Sauron, things are getting worse in Eregion. Celebrimbor is trapped in an illusion, unable to go against Sauron's orders, but Adar's army is getting closer and closer. It's no wonder Sauron's temper is getting worse.

He needs the Rings, and he needs them soon, but despite all the illusions, Celebrimbor continues to thwart his plans until the army arrives. The Siege of Eregion begins, and Celebrimbor needs to be distracted.

But Sauron is in the middle of a siege, keeping Celebrimbor in his illusion, while protecting Eregion, it's clear that he's been careless. Celebrimbor can now finally see the deception. Sauron is no longer Annatar, he can show who he really is, how damaged his true nature is.

Everything can be done quietly, or by force. Was Sauron honest about Morgoth? Well, I would say yes and no. I don't believe the relationship was captor and victim.

But if we think about the books, where Tevildo fears Morgoth, I imagine that Sauron feared Morgoth in some way. Perhaps in Celebrimbor he would see the apprentice he once was.

Celebrimbor continues to slip through his grasp. Like a cornered animal, Sauron begins to destroy his loose ends, his possible threats. Like Mirdania.

Is it a shame to truly get rid of Celebrimbor, his last equal? ​​Perhaps.

But it is the sacrifice he chooses to make. Eregion has fallen, but the Rings must be saved. Galadriel once again thwarts Sauron's plans by departing with the Rings.

Like in the first season, when Galadriel discovered Sauron's identity, we come to the end of everything between Celebrimbor and Sauron. The masks have fallen, everything comes to an end, right?

Destroying Celebrimbor must have bothered Sauron. In some twisted way, he was alone again, his last equal erased from Middle-earth. Sauron is always alone, isn’t he? Morgoth has been defeated, Adar has betrayed him, Galadriel has abandoned him, and now Celebrimbor is dead.

Sauron is Morgoth’s Shadow, indeed. A shadow, but never complete, never enough. Always doomed to end alone, to long for solitude. Now the Orcs are on your side, but is it enough?

Sauron then sets off in search of the Rings. It is the first time he and Galadriel have met in so long. His last enemy, Adar, has been defeated and Galadriel is the last obstacle. Did Sauron see in Galadriel someone who could be as he was to Morgoth?

Who knows, that's why he says so much that the door is still open. That if she hands over the Rings, heals Middle-earth by his side, she can gain power. But, unlike Morgoth, Sauron will not find a semblance of himself in Galadriel.

Galadriel accepts Sauron's blows, illusions, and tricks, but she never gives in. Sauron uses his tricks on Galadriel, all the tricks he hopes will destroy her, as he has destroyed so many others.

He fails, once again. Galadriel may have lost the Nine, but he still doesn't have Nenya. And Galadriel must have affected his pride, no doubt. Sauron may have his body, but he is at the same point where Adar destroyed him.

Alone, living in a kingdom of ashes with untrustworthy servants. To start over on his own and fix what is broken, but cannot be fixed. It's common for Sauron, isn't it? He always ends up alone, without allies, defeated.

And this will always be his journey, no matter how much time passes, how many ages have passed. His journey begins and ends alone.

[verefex]

Caged Giant (Titan Origins) pt 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Content warnings in tags. It's hard being a titan.

How long had it been since that day? Crashing through the planet’s atmosphere, encased in rock, emerging from the cracked halves under tons and tons of soil.

Sky’s memory was foggy. It may have been a year. Perhaps two or three years.

“Here it is.” The giant said as his enormous self stood before the impact site. A tremendous crater, ringed by mounds of earth and rubble. In the center was a large meteor, mostly buried. Tire tracks and boot prints littered the ground, indicating that humans had investigated the site.

“It’s huge…” Lark said as she peeped out from the giant’s collar.

“Yup. This is where I woke up.” Sky said as he approached the center of the crater and crouched down, touching his fingers the dark space rock.

Lark became excited upon seeing the giant touch the meteor. Her curiosity got the better of her and she tugged at the titan’s shirt.

“Can I look at it? I’ve never seen a meteor before.” She asked, trying to hide her excitement.

“Sure.” Sky laughed as he reached up and let Lark jump into his hand before lowering it to the ground. Lark hopped off and approached the meteor, little blue eyes wide as she gazed up and down the surface.

“It looks like it’s been split in half, such a clean cut…” She uttered as she ran her fingers along the edges. It reminded her of a geode, with the inside being a lighter color than the rough outside.

Sky crouched over her, examining the buried meteor. He furrowed his brows as he gripped the edge, noting how clean the cut was, almost as if a laser split it open.

Lark gazed up at the enormous man above her, engulfed in his shadow. She found herself staring at his intense, serious expression.

“...Sky?” she said timidly, and the giant’s face turned to look at her.

“Huh? Oh. It’s just, you’re right. It was split almost perfectly down the middle. There’s no way it could have broken so evenly without a guide.” The giant’s words were solemn.

Lark looked from the giant’s face to the meteor. She nibbled on her knuckle in thought.

“How did you get encased in a meteor in the first place?” Lark asked the giant.

Sky blinked, then sighed as he sat back heavily on his rear with a loud thump. Lark stood frozen as the ground shook her, and she was met with the towering torso before her, his legs arched above on either side.

“I don’t remember.” Sky said softly. “I don’t remember anything except waking up to dirt falling into my eyes. I dug my way out between this broken hunk of rock. I was so exhausted and weak, I fell asleep as soon as I freed myself.”

Lark was quiet, intently listening to the giant as his hulking body surrounded her. Her little frame knelt down on the ground in the wake of the titan’s shadow.

“And when you woke up…?” She urged the giant to elaborate.

“I… felt this hunger that has never left me since then. Gnawing, aching, compelling me. It’s the only thing I’ve known, the only constant. I didn’t even have a name. I knew I came from the sky, so that was what I called myself.” The giant uttered as he recalled more and more.

“I started to learn about this planet, as I satisfied my hunger… I’d gain knowledge whenever I consumed something new. Humans. Animals. Plants and minerals. Nothing was off the menu. And there are endless things to discover on this planet.” Sky’s face became darker as he went on, and Lark’s nervous little hands gripped her thighs in the presence of an enormous all-consuming being.

“So… is that your goal? To… eat everything?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” Sky huffed as he stared at the meteor again, almost wishing that it would talk to him and provide answers.

“It was the same thing every day for me… until I got captured. And then I met you.” The titan eyed the small woman under his gaze. “Since then I have been… conscious about the decisions I make and how they impact the lives of humans. Until I find out what my true purpose is here, that’s what I’m sticking to.”

Lark felt her cheeks warm as the weight of her decision to free Sky became apparent. She found herself devoted to unraveling his mysteries, anything to keep him interested in her.

Is that really what she wanted? She shook her head.

“Wow, that’s… really awesome.” Lark smiled up at the giant as she stood up. “It’s unfortunate that you don’t remember anything about your past, though.”

“It’s all I’ve known, so it’s fine.” Sky said as he leaned forward, gripping his thighs as he stared down at the human peering up at him. “I just don’t know where to start looking for answers. This meteor doesn’t tell us much.”

“You sure about that?” Lark asked cheerfully. “Maybe you can dig it out and see the full thing, that might help.”

Sky grumbled as he looked at the partially buried meteor. It was under heaps of dirt, but perhaps Lark had a point.

“Alright. You might want to stand back.” The giant said as he reached down and plucked Lark off the ground, then leaned over and set her safely to the side.

The titan then rolled up his sleeves on his pristine white jacket and got to work scraping dirt away with the largest rock he could find. Clouds of dust filled the crater as he dug and dug, his jacket now a shade of rusty orange as he finally loosened enough earth and was able to pull one half of the meteor out of the ground with tremendous effort.

The two observed the cylindrical rock. The outer surface was rough, but smooth to the touch, like cooled lava. The most curious trait, however, was the interior. Rather than rock, it had a likeness to metal, with a green sheen inlaid with etchings and port structures.

“I guess it’s… not a meteor?” Sky rumbled as his fingers ran across the etchings.

“Wait, let me see!” Lark yelled from the edge of the crater, and Sky reached over and picked her up, bringing her up to the inner surface.

“You’re right, it’s etched metal.” Lark said as she touched the smooth, curved surface from the safety of the giant’s hand. “It’s like it was manufactured this way.”

“Huh… look at the outside, too. It’s not even rock, it’s just burnt and melted metal, I think?” The giant said as he touched the rough outer edges.

“It probably looked a lot different before being burnt up coming through the atmosphere… I can’t believe you survived the crash, Sky.” Lark said, looking up at the confused titan from his palm.

“Must be really tough stuff. It kind of looks like an escape pod, so it’s meant to crash. But that still doesn’t explain why I’m here in the first place…” Sky sighed as he stood up and looked at the giant melted pod, the other half still mostly buried in the earth.

As the giant stood, clouds of dust and dirt fell from him. From his outstretched palm held at chest height, Lark could see streaks of brown and orange all over his jacket.

“Oh, your coat!” She said suddenly, and Sky looked down at himself. He blinked and looked at Lark with a calm expression.

“It’s fine, it’s washable.” The giant said as he used his fingers to brush off some of the dirt.

“Hmm, well it’s not like there are washing machines for clothes your size.” Lark sighed as she examined the titan’s enormous thick coat, padded and lined for warmth. She then blinked suddenly as she realized something inexplicable about the hulking man’s wear.

“Sky… where did you get that coat, anyways?” She asked up at the giant. “You didn’t even have a shirt on when I first met you.”

“Uh… I don’t know how to explain this, but it kind of just appeared.” Sky said flatly as he held the woman in his hand closer to his face.

“...please try to explain.” Lark replied, her face blank.

“Okay, so, after we escaped and parted ways, I was pretty cold without most of my clothes. It does take a lot for me to get cold, but the next night I remember I started shivering. Then, my insides glowed blue under my skin, and I got real warm.” Sky said as he gestured with his free hand, then grabbed the loose collar of his jacket.

“And then, these clothes appeared on me. And I been wearin’ em since.” The giant shrugged.

Lark, speechless, glanced down at the giant’s palm, which was covered with a thin, black fingerless glove. She picked at the fabric, deeming it rather sturdy and very similar to a glove she might wear.

“So your body… glows, and creates things out of thin air.” She chortled.

“I know, it sounds stupid.” Sky sighed, bringing Lark closer to his face. “But I’m not complaining. I’d be walking around almost naked otherwise.”

“Yeah, what a… shame that would be.” Lark said with a cheeky smirk.

The giant raised his eyebrows curiously at her comment. “Hmm?” He rumbled questioningly as he stared down Lark, who suddenly became shy and averted her gaze from his looming face.

“I mean, maybe, if we were in a warmer climate.” Sky shrugged. “It’s pretty damn cold here. I like it though.”

Lark leaned back into the giant’s palm and hugged her arms. “It’s alright… I wouldn’t mind living somewhere warmer. My team has been here for a while and it’s barely gotten warmer than 50 degrees.”

Sky chuckled as he glanced down at the woman in his hand, admiring her petite size.

“My body is very warm, you know. You can live in my pocket if you want.” The giant giggled as he gestured to his coat pockets on his hips. “But… nah, I mean, you must have a home or something to go back to, huh?”

Lark shook her head heartily and scooted along Sky’s palm, where she wrapped her arms around his enormous thumb. “I want to be with you.” She said firmly, hugging his thumb.

Sky’s expression softened as he gazed at the adorable little woman clinging to his thumb. His heart fluttered at her dedication and trust towards him.

The titan lifted his hand up to his mouth and pushed his soft lips into Lark’s body, feeling her warmth, her minuscule proportions.

“What made you trust me so much?” Sky whispered, incredulously, as he pushed his lips against her.

Lark froze up as the giant’s mouth whispered directly into her ear, his breath smelling faintly like birch.

“You… didn’t eat me.” She responded timidly, still clutching his thumb as his face smothered her against his broad palm.

“I could. Right now.” The giant rumbled, and Lark could hear his tongue scraping against the back of his teeth, directly behind her head.

“… I know.” Lark said softly, closing her eyes tightly, ever so hopeful.

Sky’s throat rumbled with a soft growl as he parted his lips, then his teeth, and suddenly his mouth had encircled her, trapping her between his palm and his enormous, blue mouth overhead. It took everything in her not to scream, to trust this mischievous giant with her own life as she forced herself to let go of his thumb and roll onto her back, staring up at the channel of his tongue, the grooves of his palate.

The interior of his mouth was partially illuminated only from the light pouring in from the gaps between his lips and his palm. While her back was against his palm, she was completely inside of his mouth, his teeth and tongue encircling her with no escape.

Her breath caught in her chest as she reached out and touched her delicate fingers to his tongue beside her.

“Sky. Enough.” She said shakily, forcing her eyes to stay open as his mouth surrounded her.

The titan grumbled as she touched his tongue, wanting nothing more than to close his mouth around her and seal her inside. But he obliged and withdrew himself, leaving her shaking in his palm.

“Huff- you’re no fun.” Sky said breathily, smiling warmly down at the tiny woman in his hand.

Lark stayed on her back, glaring up at him with a pout as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Just cause I trust you doesn’t mean you should push it!” Lark retorted, and Sky couldn’t help but giggle mischievously.

“I know, I know…sorry.” The titan licked his lips and moved his hand away from his mouth, eyeing her carefully. His appetite was certainly whetted by her proximity to his jaws. He had to be more careful.

“It’s alright… no harm done.” Lark said as she sat up in his palm and crossed her legs, nestling into the giant’s warm hand.

“So, where would you like to ride from here on out?” Sky said as he gestured to his body.

“Ride? Um…” Lark leaned back and took in the enormous breadth of Sky’s imposing stature before her.

“You do have a lot of pockets. How about the chest one again?” She said as she started to fuss over her hair and tousle it back into place.

“Good choice.” Sky said as he lifted the tiny woman up to his left breast and unzipped the pocket. He tilted his palm towards the opening, and Lark gingerly stepped inside and dropped to the bottom of the pocket.

Being flush against the giant man’s chest warmed Lark to the core. She found herself smiling as she nestled into the bottom corner of the fabric pouch. As Sky walked with his enormous heavy steps, Lark was comforted by the sway of his gait. It really was a perfect place for a small human such as herself.

Sky smiled as well, feeling her fluttery little body against his right breast. His fingertips grazed the outside of the pocket protectively.

“Shall I zip you in, seal your fate?” The giant grinned as he tugged at the zipper, pulling the tab slowly along the teeth.

Lark gasped as she looked up at the opening of the pocket, the light dwindling as the enormous zipper teeth came together in a neat row.

“Hey, no! There’s no way I could pull that back open!” She whined, standing up awkwardly in the fabric folds and stretching her arms up. Her fingertips only grazed the teeth of the zipper.

Sky merely laughed and left the zipper halfway closed. “I’m kidding! I want you to be able to get out if you need to.” He patted the pocket gently and continued walking, consciously aware of the tiny life tucked away against his breast.

Very few humans lived in the remote wilderness of the north where Sky roamed. Aside from temporary settlements and camps, such as the one Lark came from, he was unlikely to encounter many people. Titans, on the other hand, were known to travel in a wide range.

Sky let out a long, pained sigh as he stood still. He gazed down at his breast pocket where Lark was safely snuggled into.

“Hey Lark. I know you agreed to stay with me, but… it will be dangerous if I meet another titan. I don’t know how well I can protect you if things get ugly.” Sky rumbled as he pulled the zipper outwards to peek inside his pocket.

Lark peeked up from the bottom, gazing at the giant’s worried eyes through the zipper opening.

“You mean like a fight? Do titans attack each other?” She asked.

“I might. It depends on how cooperative they are.” Sky replied. “I intend to only ask questions… I gotta learn more about myself. I don’t know where else to look for answers, and the meteor only complicated things.”

“Hmm… well, I’d still rather stay with you, Sky. I trust that you’ll keep me safe…” Lark said as she looked up and placed a small hand on the giant’s breast, a tiny reassurance within his pocket.

“I’ll protect you, Lark. If anything, I might just have to hide you somewhere you can’t be stepped on or crushed on accident.” Sky said while touching his fingers to the outside of his chest pocket. “Just wanted to uh, forewarn you. Though I’m sure you know other titans aren’t as gentle as I am.”

Lark let out a laugh. Though Sky was the only titan she had really met, she was well aware of the dangers. “Yeah, I won’t go waltzing up to another giant… don’t worry!”

Sky glanced down at his pocket again and grumbled, placing his hand over his entire breast protectively. The cold northern air chilled his enormous body, but his pocket remained warm, tucked against himself. Lark would be safe from the cold as long as she was with him.

As he walked, the titan suddenly winced as his stomach tightened into a knot. He had been ignoring it for the majority of the day, but the pain was now amped up to a 10.

Sky halted, standing still among the trees. His glowing blue eyes scanned the treetops, deliberating on which one to take a bite out of. Yet, as he brought his mouth up to the leaves, he stopped.

This wasn’t right. His body was telling him it was hungry for something else.

The titan blinked. When was the last time he ate humans?

“Damn…” Sky grumbled, gritting his teeth as he stared at the leaves in front of him, a snack he had eaten many times before when he was desperate. The thought of choking them down right now made him nauseous.

Lark, sensing the giant’s turmoil, peeked her head out of his pocket’s zipper and looked up at him.

“Sky, you okay?” She asked timidly, and the giant did not look at her.

No, he didn’t dare look at her, so small and vulnerable in his pocket, with her taste still faint on his lips. He merely closed his eyes and clenched his jaw tight.

“I don’t know. Stay in the pocket, Lark.” He rumbled lowly, reaching up with his fingertip and gently pushing her back down into the depths of his clothing.

“Hey-!” She squeaked as she was forced inside, even more so when Sky promptly zipped the pocket all the way shut.

The giant breathed deeply, feeling his lungs swell and his guts cramp painfully. This had certainly been the longest time he had gone since devouring Lark’s kind. He had to keep her safe, no matter what. Safe, and oblivious.

The titan turned in place and walked purposefully towards a hillside he had passed by earlier. He had caught a glimpse as he was walking of a dirt road winding through the trees, a pathway paved by humans.

Inside his pocket, tucked against his pounding chest, Lark was fiddling nervously. Rocked this way and that by his strides, her efforts to reach up and undo the zipper were fruitless. She was helpless, all she could do was sink to the bottom of his pocket.

What was he planning to do? She had to know. While the giant was distracted, she focused her attention on the seams lining the bottom corner of the pocket with her small knife.

Sky followed the dirt road, his giant boots plowing through trees and rocks as he scanned the area. It was unlikely, but there was a chance there would be humans somewhere along the road, either by vehicle or in a campsite.

Sure enough, the giant’s long strides brought him to a small camp. Three tents surrounded an electric portable stove on the top of the hill. No sign of a fire or smoke, a telling sign that the inhabitants were trying to avoid detection.

Two humans appeared out of the tents, alerted by the titan’s presence. Geared up in tactical camo gear, they immediately began shouting into their radios as Sky wasted no time in reaching down and grabbing them both in one hand.

Sky stared at them both as they struggled in his hand, feeling his innards rumble with anticipation. This was it, the cure. He wasted no time in cramming both of the men into his mouth and sealing them inside despite their protests.

Under his jacket, Lark had slipped out of the hole in his pocket, and was making her way down along his enormous body. An audible swallowing sound filled the air, and she froze somewhere along his abdomen.

“Sky…” she whispered, horrified, as her proximity to his stomach gave away what he had just put in there. Indeed, the muffled cries of the two humans the giant had just swallowed whole emanated from within.

The titan felt himself go into a trance-like state as his body immediately responded to his latest meal, and a warm glowing feeling washed over him as the pain in his guts subsided. He let out a long sigh, then leaned back in satisfaction, just in time for Lark to slip out from under his jacket.

“Woah!” He yelled and fumbled, reaching down to catch her before she hit the ground.

“What are you doing?” Sky said with a gasp as he brought her close to his face, cupping her in his palm. She shuddered briefly before looking up at him in horror.

“You ate them!” Lark cried, pointing her finger at his enormous face. “People, you ate people!”

Sky stared at her guiltily, covering his mouth with his free hand. Now that his stomach pain had subsided, he was able to think more clearly. Didn’t he tell Lark directly that he would not be eating other humans?

“...I forgot.” He mumbled.

“How could you forget? It’s not like you ate them on accident!” Lark cried, pounding her tiny fists into his palm.

Sky bit his lip as he leaned over and stared down at his belly, which was happily full of squirming. Now that he had finally eaten, the thought of letting them back out was agonizing.

“You don’t understand… I have to.” He retorted, his gaze avoiding Lark’s.

“You have to? What will happen if you don’t eat humans? What about eating trees, like before?” She cried.

“I couldn’t continue any longer. It hurt… my insides felt like they were on fire. Now it’s fine…” Sky uttered.

“Sky…” Lark said, defeated, crumpling in his hand at his words. Her entire body shook as she was forced to witness such atrocities. All she could think about was how whoever was eaten was still alive inside of him… for now.

The titan sighed, glancing around his surroundings. He felt guilty for exposing Lark to this without much warning. If she just stayed in his pocket, would things have been better? She certainly would have still heard the commotion.

��I’m sorry. Maybe all this was a mistake.” Sky said as he crouched down and held his hand against the ground, with Lark on top. “If you stay with me, you’re going to witness stuff like this. I can’t change who I am.” The giant’s expression was solemn.

Lark’s lip quivered as she looked up at the giant, then down at the ground, at the empty encampment.

“You’re going to leave me here alone?” She asked, staring up at him with big eyes.

“Don’t worry, there’s one person left.” Sky said, nodding towards one of the tents. Lark followed his gaze and stared inside, indeed catching a glimpse of its occupant. Sky’s enormous hand reached over and plucked the tent off the ground, exposing them.

With a surprised expression, the last human in the encampment froze in Sky’s shadow. It was none other than Devon, the unfortunate man who couldn’t seem to catch a break from the titan.

“Oh god, it’s Devon… don’t leave me with him!” Lark whined, pointing her finger at the cowardly man.

Devon scrambled in place and stood up, clenching a rifle in his hands. Sky’s huge body eclipsed the area, a look of amusement on his face.

“You again…! You’ll pay, titan… for eating my men!” Devon shouted, aiming his weapon and Sky and pulling the trigger… a click. He had forgotten to load any rounds.

Sky, heaving a sigh, cupped Lark in his hand and leaned closer to the shouting man.

“Hey, don’t be so upset. They were very satisfying.” The titan said lowly, eyeing the lone human who was currently fumbling with reloading his rifle.

“Shut up, you!” Devon said, gritting his teeth as he finally loaded his gun and aimed up at Sky once more. The titan blinked, staring at the tiny gun pointed at him, and brought his hand up, over Devon, and clapped it down on top of him.

The man was flattened instantly under the giant’s massive palm, and when Sky removed his hand, Devon was reeling from the shock, sprawled on his back in pain. Sky took the opportunity to pinch the man’s leg between his thumb and forefinger, lifting him off the ground as his rifle tumbled down, out of his loose fingers.

Lark watched, still cupped in the giant’s other hand, as the limp body of Devon was lifted up by his foot, dangling precariously between Sky’s fingers. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what the giant’s intentions were.

Sky caught her gaze and looked at her, holding Devon up next to his face threateningly. His expression was stern.

“So, you don’t like this guy. Are you going to protest if I eat him, too?” The titan uttered, and Lark could hear the malice dripping in his voice.

“I…” Lark stammered, suddenly feeling like she was the judge, jury, and executioner of this one man’s life. She didn’t particularly hate Devon, but he did vocally advocate banishing her from their group.

“You don’t have to watch. I’ll make it quick.” Sky said as he slowly brought the dangling man to his mouth.

“H-He won’t feel any pain, right?” Lark asked innocently. Her hands started to get clammy as she braced herself for what she was about to see.

Sky shook his head. “No. At least, I don’t think so. They usually quiet down after a little while.”

“...until they get dissolved in acid, right…” Lark shuddered.

“No, that’s not it. Titan’s bodies are different from a human’s. Remember how I mentioned my insides glowing? It happens after I eat, as well. The light grows warm and disperses nutrients throughout, instantly. At least that’s what I think.” Sky said as he nodded down to his torso, clad in his warm jacket but a faint blue glow could be seen underneath.

Lark stared at his middle, her eyes indeed picking up the faint glow within the titan’s body.

“Really? So… that light in your body is responsible for regulating your organs, and… manifesting clothing and equipment for you…” She said curiously, head tilting as she contemplated the complicated nature of the titan’s body. “That’s pretty handy, you know. I wonder what else it does…”

As Lark sat comfortably in the giant’s hand, Devon was slowly coming-to, held by his leg in front of Sky’s face. He gasped as he was held upside-down, so high off the ground, staring at the titan’s mouth.

“Hey, no, no, no…” He said, flailing his arms as he swung back and forth from the giant’s fingers. “C’mon, you don’t gotta eat me too!”

Sky turned his attention to Devon, feeling his appetite growing by the minute.

“If I let you go again, you’ll just try to shoot me.” Sky retorted, already feeling impatient about delaying his meal.

“What? No, of course not! You really think that gun can do much damage to you anyways??” Devon squeaked helplessly.

“You could take my eye out. Not risking it. Besides, I’m not satisfied with just the two.” Sky said lowly, opening his mouth and raising Devon above it. Just as he was about to drop him inside, Lark piped up below.

“Wait! Sky, hold on.” She said, patting the giant’s hand. Sky glanced down at her, mouth still partially open. “We could… use this as an opportunity to see what happens in there…”

Sky raised an eyebrow at her words. He closed his mouth and leveled his head to look down at her in his palm.

“...go on.” He said. Lark bit her lip nervously, suddenly feeling rather put on the spot.

“Well, um, since you’re eating him anyways… what if we hooked up his body cam and transmitted it to my phone?” Lark said, holding up her device. “All of those suits have them.”

Sky smiled, impressed by her boldness to use a fellow human in this way. Devon, of course, protested loudly to the idea.

“What?? Oh come on, you’re gonna use me as an endoscope?” He squealed, and Sky merely flipped the man’s body into his hand and closed his fist on him.

“Didn’t expect this from you.” Sky laughed as he brought Lark up closer to his face. “Isn’t that rather morbid?”

Lark blushed at his words, fiddling with her phone as she perched in his palm. “You know what? Yes, it is. You were right, by staying with you I have no choice but to be complicit in… this. So, let’s make the most of it, and maybe if Devon cooperates well enough, you can let him go afterwards?”

Sky huffed, glancing upwards as he considered her request. He hadn’t considered letting humans free after swallowing them whole before. The process did not appeal to him, but he cared for Lark a lot, and if this is what he had to do to make her happy, then it was worth it.

“Fine. Let’s try it.” He said, bringing his hands together and opening up his fist in his right hand, which contained the disgruntled Devon. The man grumbled as he scrambled onto his feet, only to fall onto his rear once Sky’s hand tilted enough.

“I didn’t agree to this bullshit.” Devon grumbled as he started undoing the straps on his pants and boots. His clothing was quite bulky, so he wanted to minimize the risk of getting lodged in the giant’s gullet on the way down.

“That’s too bad.” Sky said, eyeing the man carefully. He could tell Lark was uncomfortable being so close to him, but it was only temporary.

“I just gotta set my app to your cam’s frequency…” Lark said timidly as she peered at Devon’s chest camera. The young man glared at her, unsure if he should be furious or thankful for her idea. He shook his dark hair and leaned back, turning on his camera.

“50602.” He uttered as the camera powered on. “That’s the code.”

Lark avoided his gaze as she punched the numbers into her phone. The devices connected, and she could view the camera.

“All set… um, good luck.” She said with a wave to Devon, who sneered back at her.

“Yeah, thanks.” He said sarcastically.

“Hey, be nice to her. She’s doing you a favor.” Sky said as he brought Devon up to his face.

“Not so much as she is doing it for her own creepy needs. You two sicken me.” The man said, feeling the dread rising inside of him as he was brought close to that terrifying, blue mouth yet again.

“You’re not gonna change my mind. Just relax and enjoy the trip.” Sky said with a smirk, before tilting Devon into his mouth.

The man grunted as he was tilted inside, the giant’s enormous size easily engulfing him and surrounding him with his teeth and blue maw. He fell flat on his palms in the middle of Sky’s tongue, with a clear view of his throat before him.

Lark watched her phone with bated breath as the camera fogged up from the titan’s hot breath. All she could see was the blue of his tongue, before the screen went black just as Sky swallowed.

Devon was tilted into Sky’s throat by his powerful tongue, sliding down head-first into the darkness. He grit his teeth as he was forcibly squeezed down, his small size effortlessly fitting inside the titan’s esophagus.

After what felt like an eternity in the giant’s throat, Devon reached Sky’s stomach, where he was suddenly dropped from the throat and into the bottom. He landed with a thud, rolling down the side of the titan’s stomach until he was flat on his back, trapped in the pit of Sky’s belly.

Sky let out a satisfied huff as his empty stomach was filled. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them as he brought Lark up to his face to observe her. She was staring at her phone, admiring the look of the inside of her enormous companion’s gut.

“It’s… bright blue…” She uttered, noting how the inside of Sky’s stomach lit up with an ominous glow.

Devon shivered, scooting himself backwards from the pit of the giant’s stomach. His breaths were coming out rapidly as he looked around his environment. Every fold and ridge of the titan’s stomach were illuminated by a bright blue glow, which emanated from underneath the flesh.

“Holy shit…” He said, fully expecting to see the half-digested bodies of his comrades inside the titan’s stomach. He was completely alone inside; not a trace of them were to be found. Devon’s eyes went wide as he realized his time was very limited before he was completely digested.

“Are you done yet??” He yelled as he continued backing into the walls of Sky’s stomach. Just then, among the inner gurgling and groaning of the giant’s guts, a pulsing mechanical sound whirred around him. The glowing flesh of the titan’s stomach became brighter, and waves of lines traveled up along the folds from the center.

Lark stared at her screen in disbelief as Sky’s stomach appeared to be scanning its contents, surrounding Devon with waves of light. “Something crazy’s happening… I think it’s bad news for Devon.” She said as she looked up at Sky, who was eyeing her curiously.

“My stomach feels very warm.” Sky said as he glanced down to his middle. He grimaced, knowing he would have to empty it.

“Get me outta here, this shit’s crazy!!” Devon wailed as he plastered himself against the walls, and the waves of light got more and more intense.

Suddenly, the giant’s stomach contracted, and its contents were squeezed upwards. Devon was forced back up the wide throat he had just slid down and in just a few seconds, he was back in Sky’s mouth, utterly soaked in fluids.

Sky leaned over his free hand and calmly opened his mouth, rolling Devon’s limp body off of his tongue and into his palm. The man lay there, dazed after being squeezed so hard on all sides.

“Is he okay?” Lark asked timidly from the giant’s other hand, and Sky nodded.

“Yeah. That was close, though. Another minute and he would have been gone.” The giant said as he cupped his hand around the regurgitated human.

“You’re goddamn kiddin’ me. That was insane. I hope you two know that.” Devon groaned as he sat up in Sky’s hand and started wiping globs of spit off his face.

“Hmm, but you’re probably the first human to get eaten by a titan and survive…” Sky said thoughtfully, running his tongue along his lips, savoring the remnants of flavor.

“Well, whatever you are, you sure as hell ain’t like us. Blue insides. Glowing, blue insides at that. And what must have been a damn full-body scan…” Devon said rather lowly, as if he was talking to himself.

“Do you think… it’s an artificial organ?” Lark said thoughtfully, mostly directed at Sky, who looked at her rather incredulously.

“Artificial? Like, you think I’m not comprised of flesh?” The titan asked, tilting his head at the curious little woman in his left hand. “I guess… I never thought about that. I… don’t think I’m artificial, but, maybe parts of me are…”

“I am not going back in to get a biopsy.” Devon retorted, sitting with his back turned to both Sky and Lark as he squeezed moisture out of his hair and clothes.

Lark glanced at the disgruntled man and bit her lip. He looked awful, drenched in digestive fluids with his hair and clothes matted down. She looked down at her phone and ended the stream to his body cam, saving the recording.

“I think it’s about time to let him go.” Lark said, glancing up at the titan, who nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. Thanks for taking the plunge.” Sky laughed as he bent down and brought Devon lower to the ground in his hand. The man scoffed before hopping off eagerly.

“As if I had a choice…” Devon seethed quietly as he promptly walked back to his tent and started drying himself off with a rag.

Sky then stood up and turned his back to the campsite, walking away without another word. He held Lark close to his chest, cupping her protectively as he walked, enormous stride easily taking them a good distance before finally stopping.

Sky sat down with a contented sigh, spreading his legs out as he cupped Lark in both hands and held her close to his face as he leaned over. He gave her an exasperated smile.

“I feel like I have more questions than answers now.” He said, using his thumb to gently rub Lark’s petite shoulders.

Lark smiled warmly as the giant touched her. Despite his enormous size and terrifying appetite, the titan’s hands around her were a welcome feeling.

“Do you still think we’d be better off parting ways?” She asked timidly, looking up at the titan with big eyes.

Sky’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled as he shook his head.

“We make a good team, don’t we?” He rumbled as he touched the tip of his thumb to the top of her little head. Lark giggled in response.

“I’m glad.” She said softly, leaning into the giant’s warm embrace, his touch already numbing her to the memory of his recent meal.

[valorascult]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 / 𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝)

**disclaimer**

I am not against self improvement. Wanting to be the best version of yourself is your birthright. There are a lot of helpful books, ‘gurus’, articles, practices, etc; that are beneficial & have valuable information to share.

That being said, lets move forward.

Many start their ‘self improvement journey’ when they are at their lowest because that’s when you are most aware that something is ‘wrong’ - making you more vulnerable / susceptible to deception & addiction.

It usually starts by reading a book, watching a yt video, etc;. You watch / read one and then continue to consume more, because ‘maybe the next one will finally get me to where i need to be’ - not understanding that this is just another form of entertainment and procrastination.

There is satisfaction after immediately reading a self help book. You have a quick rush of ‘I’ve accomplished something’ (dopamine) - giving you the illusion of progress until you get stuck inside a cycle and realize, nothing has changed.

Sitting behind a screen is not the self improvement you think it is. Is there good knowledge shared? Yes, of course, but the real self improvement starts by actually DOING. Living life will give you more answers than binging content.

Action Faking - ‘the practice of confusing being 'busy' with making actual progress towards an intended goal and often involves a lot of over-analysing and planning, but very little meaningful action.’

Listening to someone talk about their own lives & share their own improvement stories is not going to help YOU. Gurus try to fit everyone into a mold when self improvement is not a ‘one size fits all’ & when something doesn’t work for someone after its worked for others, they usually see themselves as a ‘failure’ so they move onto the next thing that doesn’t fit them & this becomes a pattern, soon they start to build levels of guilt and shame.

Before consuming anything, you should know the specific problem you want to solve, if not, you are coming into something without a strong foundation, soon, you will start to believe there are 500 other things wrong. Don’t get sucked into a black hole.

Also, understand that many other these therapists, psychologists, content creators, etc; all thrive off of people who are at their lowest. It’s important to know when someone really wants to help vs when someone keeps wanting you to come back. The industry is worth billions.

Many have been accustomed to pacifying the silence. Always picking up the phone, turning the tv on, listening to music when there is downtime, instead of tapping into our bodies - their thoughts and feeling have now become distorted & influenced by ‘the noise’.

Fake positivity instead of facing reality is an issue within itself. These ‘positive’ messages / posts about encouragement and ‘never giving up’ convinces you that it’s ‘wrong’ to changes paths / passions in life & you then see yourself as a failure instead of a soul, growing.

With all of that being said, remove yourself from artificial motivation & start doing. I have nothing against self improvement, but I do have an issue with the addictive side of it that seems to only profit a select few.

xoxo,

valora