#& then there are two branches I want to take you

[obaewankenobis]

till forever falls apart; finnick odair

pairing: finnick odair x reader (female pronouns, y/n not used)

word count: 10.6k

summary: not quite friends, but not quite lovers; you and finnick odair have been living in a careful balance that always leaves the both of you wanting more. when the third quarter quell arrives, you realize it’s better to be late than never.

warnings: typical hunger games stuff like child murder, forced prostitution, etc... slight mention of like suicidal thoughts but it's brief. smut (fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, i can't remember anything else, pretty vanilla stuff).

notes: there's kind of a lot of plot which i was nawwwt expecting. my bad if you're not into that i guess i know a lot of people look forward to the freaky stuff and it's def not my strong suit so i apologize 😭.

It was a little fucked up, the way you actually looked forward to being summoned to the Capitol.

Yes, they’d tortured your district for generations by killing children for decades upon decades. 

During your games, they starved you, maimed you, and forced you to kill other innocent children when you were just sixteen–a child by any means.

The torture hadn't stopped after the games, either. Even the nightmares were a walk in the park compared to the prostitution that awaited you in the Capitol. The looming threat of your family’s safety being compromised should you dare get any ideas of disobeying. 

So yes, it was a bit crazy to have a smile tug at the corner of your lips when a peacekeeper knocked on your door and told you President Snow had summoned you to the Capitol for the End of Victory Tour celebration. 

The smile, like always, was followed by quiet humming and a little skip in your step as you’d hurried to pack what few possessions actually mattered to you.

The reason for this temporary insanity was simple: whatever despair and destruction the Capitol had thrown at you, they’d also given you something to make up for it, even if it was purely unintentional. The apology came in the form of Finnick, another victor who’d shown you the ropes after you’d been crowned the year after him.

Being from different districts, the only time you were able to see him was when you’d both been called to the Capitol.

Gazing out the window as the station came into view, you sighed and imagined what you’d do upon arriving.

You take in the bright pinks and yellows of the stone streets, the rainbows that glittered against stained glass windows as the sun shone through them. The looming presence of snow-capped mountains provided a dramatic background and suit of armor around the Capitol, a stark contrast from the bright, bubbly city. 

For such an evil, awful place, it was breathtakingly beautiful. Your body had the same reaction it did the first time the train had screeched to a halt: completely frozen in time, so still a breath could not be squeezed from your lungs.

You hated the feelings that overcame you, of such paralyzing fear it made you weak. Hated how your fingers became so shaky it took you several attempts to button up your coat. Hated how your legs were so unsure of themselves you feared you’d collapse if you stood up too suddenly.

All of a sudden you were sixteen again, a terrified  tribute arriving in the Capitol like a lamb for slaughter.

You hated coming back here every six months at the very least — once for the Games, once for the tour, and however many times you were summoned by Capitol citizens. 

The Games were obviously hard–and so was the business you did in the Capitol–but the Victory Tours were a special form of torture. You hated looking at the winner, because they always seemed so lost and terrified, trembling like a lone leaf on a branch as the wind whistled through.

This past year had been a little different — there'd been two Victors this time, and their win sparked something in the districts that you’d never seen in your life. You didn’t hold any hope there would be long lasting change, but you were glad to see this year’s Victors weren’t alone. You wished you could’ve had that.

A gust of wind sweeps through the door as a Capitol attendant opens it, bringing you back to reality, and you force a small smile as the sunlight hits your face.

Waves of bronze hair catches your eye, and it takes everything in you not to jump from the platform and run to greet him.

He’s as beautiful as ever; the sun turning his hair a nice gold. His skin is a little paler and his hair is a little darker, given the winter months, but it’s only noticeable to you because you’ve spent hours running your fingers through it; spent days admiring the way water sluiced off his skin and glistened while he swam. 

You notice him immediately–not just because you’ve been subconsciously searching, but because he’s never greeted you at the station before. It’s then you notice dark circles under his eyes, the way they’re glassy with fatigue, and the rigidness of his posture. Your eyes narrow slightly and you open your mouth to greet him, when his arms open wide in invitation to his embrace. It’s then you know something’s really, really wrong.

Because as much as you care for Finnick, and as much as you know he cares for you, he’s never been so openly affectionate with so many people watching.

It’s part of the agreement you have; around others you’re polite, friendly even, and everything else you actually yearn for is tucked away behind closed doors.

So, when you wrap your arms around his neck, you’re hoping it's brief, because you don’t want to get used to being so close to him in public. And when you begin to pull away, you’re startled to find him gripping you close to his body, lips brushing your ear so he can whisper something without anyone else knowing or overhearing.

“I need you to meet me in my room in half an hour. It’s important. Don’t be late,” he says quietly, urgently, before suddenly releasing you. It doesn’t sound like one of your late night rendezvous, unless he’s wound really tight and that desperate for release — no, this seems far bigger than that.

When he finally leans back, you grasp his forearms and study him, searching for answers in his eyes and only being met with apprehension. 

Forcing a small smile, all you can say is, “It’s good to see you too, Finnick.”

He squeezes your hand in his own for a brief moment before disappearing, leaving you alone with two Capitol attendants who are supposed to just be carrying your bags to your quarters — but you know they’re guards in disguise, making sure you have nowhere to go.

It’s exactly twenty eight minutes later when you appear in front of Finnick’s door, a hand raised to knock when it flies open. 

He’s a little more relaxed, though you can see the tension in the ticking of his jaw and the tight grip he has on the door. Still, the corners of his mouth lift upward in a smile as his eyes land on you. “I was worried you’d be late. Y’know, you’ve never been a very punctual person.”

“I’ve never seen you so high strung before.” You shrug, “Thought I might hurry my ass up for once, in case you had a heart attack.”

He laughs, a lovely melody that makes your insides melt a little whenever you hear it, but you can tell his mind is occupied. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, about that… where exactly are we going?” You ask, though you know deep down you’d follow him anywhere. 

“You’re asking so many questions. You don’t trust me?” He asks teasingly, flashing you a smile, and you’re overwhelmed for a moment because Finnick was like the sun — golden and glowing, blindingly radiant from the smile on his lips down to the tips of his toes.

You do trust him — and as he leads you to an awaiting black car, you reassure yourself that he’s not leading you to your imminent death.

Well, maybe you were wrong. Because the words coming out of Finnick’s mouth–backed by Plutarch Heavensbee of all people–are nothing short of treasonous. And in Panem, treason is inevitably followed by death, or a fate so much worse death seems merciful.

“You’re sure she’s not going to say something?” Plutarch asks, and you think it’s because you haven't said a word since they told you about it all. About District 13, the stirrings of rebellion in the Districts, the plan to escalate into a full scale rebellion with the newest victors from 12 — Katniss and Peeta — being the face of said rebellion.

“No, we can trust her. I promise,” Finnick nudges you with his shoulder, as if urging you to confirm what he’s said.

You look around to the others in the room at the Heavensbee mansion: Beetee Latier from Three, Johanna Mason from Seven, and Haymitch Abernathy from Twelve. They don’t look nearly as surprised as you do, so you suspect you’re one of the last people to be told this news. 

“Yeah— I just… you really think it’ll work?” You cringe as your voice comes out in a dry croak.

“We won’t know unless we try,” Plutarch says, and you wonder why he’s in on whatever this is. He’s just been promoted to Head Gamemaker, and he lives in this mansion that spans the entire street and is packed to the brim with books and priceless art. Surely there’s nothing wrong with his life that would make him want to rebel. “You and Six are the only ones we haven’t talked to… and we need as much unity between the Districts as we can get.”

“Okay,” You say after a moment, willing your voice not to shake. It's less fear and more excitement at the prospect of something better in your future. 

You can hear Finnick’s audible sigh of relief, hear the soft scratch of his chair against the floor as he pushes it back, and feel the softness of his lips against your temple as he kisses you.

You wish he wouldn’t do that. Not because you’re embarrassed that anyone would see it, but because it just serves as a reminder that he’s just out of your reach. Every touch or kiss was on stolen time, and one day, the feeling you got around him would catch up to you in the most devastating way possible.

So, instinctively, you duck down in an attempt to escape him, and try not to notice the slight frown that overtakes his features.

“I’ve kept you all long enough,” Plutarch says in  dismissal, checking his watch. “The victory party is tonight, and I would hate for any of you to miss seeing the little lovebirds.”

“C’mon.” Finnick grabs your hand and tugs you to your feet. “We’ve got to get all prettied up.”

“Excuse me,” you scoff. “I’m perfect just the way I am. You on the other hand…” you look him up and down. “Well, we’d better hurry up.”

He gasps and clutches his chest like he’s been struck. You know he knows it's a joke, because there truly is nothing prettier on this earth than Finnick Odair.

The brief joy you feel when you see Finnick can only last so long.

While they’re not particularly awful, just annoying, looking into the faces of your prep team makes you nauseous. All it does is throw you back to nearly a decade ago when you were a tribute. 

And, sometimes, being constantly reminded of the horrors you endured made you wish you died in that arena. Not all the time, but sometimes.

“Arms up!” Shrills Iris, who resembles a lemon the way she’s dressed head to toe in bright yellow. You obey the command on instinct. Something cool, almost metallic, slides over your body. The dress is made of a thousand tiny silver-white jewels, each rope swishing and clicking against one another when you move. Matching jewelry weighs down your ears and neck, twinkling and making you appear to be a jewel yourself.

“All done!” The woman beams, clapping her hands together and practically shoving you out the door and towards the direction of the car waiting to drive to the President’s mansion.

You’re sure making victors attend every celebration in the Capitol brings Snow a special kind of pleasure. It’s probably the only kind of joy he ever feels in his life, looking at the miserable faces of past tributes and knowing that because of him, their bodies have either been sold to the highest bidder or withered away due to addiction — or sometimes, in the worst cases, both.

You are grateful for the chance to see the newest Victors, though. You want to be in their presence and somehow have them light a spark of hope in you.

“You were right,” a voice behind you says. You turn to see Finnick. 

“What?”

“Earlier,” he continues, his eyes briefly flitting to your dress before returning to your eyes. “You are perfect just the way you are.”

“I—” Stupidly, you can feel a hotness in your cheeks, and know he’s managed to make you blush. He always does that, finds a way to make you stumble over your own words. “Thanks. I think I was right, too.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow.

“You do look so much better all dolled up,” you tease, using this as an excuse to take him all in. He, of course, looks breathtaking, which is a bit annoying because you’ve never seen him be anything less. He’s wearing a seafoam colored shirt that brings out the green in his eyes. It’s nearly see through, mostly where his muscle strains against the fabric. It gives everyone a glimpse of his body you feel honored to have seen up close, but it also makes you feel sad at how obviously he’s being objectified. His trousers are a light linen, and you frown again at how… Well, conservatively he’s dressed, despite the sheerness of the shirt.

“I haven’t seen you this covered up in years, shouldn’t you be practically naked?” You blurt out, and you’re rewarded with another laugh that makes your heart sing.

“If you want to see me naked, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask,” he grins, the tips of his teeth peeking through his lips.

“I meant,” you clear your throat and will the blush in your cheeks to subside, “Normally you’re a lot more… distracting.” Well that doesn’t sound any better now that you’ve said it out loud.

“Distracting, hmm? I’m free in…” He pretends to check the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Just a couple hours, if you are. Your place or mine?”

“Finnick,” you grit your teeth. You know he knows what you mean, and yet he still teases.

“Ye-es,” he replies in an almost sing-song voice before his expression becomes a little more serious. “I’m not supposed to take away from the lovely couple tonight. Apparently I can be a little distracting. Did you know that?” His eyes twinkle with more laughter you’re dying to hear.

“You? Distracting? Never,” you reassure him, patting his chest as you move past, trying not to notice how his eyes linger on you.

You disappear into the crowd, not only in search of a drink, but some different company. You, Finnick, and alcohol were a deadly mix you swore you’d never combine again. Luckily, there's no shortage of people holding trays of drinks, from bubbling champagne to deep red wines, and you quickly pluck a glass of rosé. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed, all you know is that you’ve just finished your third glass and are reaching for a fourth when your stomach starts rumbling. You realize then you haven't eaten since you’d been on the train. It’s not that there wasn’t any food at this party, there was, in fact, an excess, but it was so rich you were worried it would only further upset your already queasy stomach.

The voice that finally made you understand the phrase butterflies in your stomach calls your name, and you can't help but smile as you turn around and see Finnick holding a plate of shrimp drenched in a red sauce, setting it down on the bar in front of you. Your favorite. 

“Thank you!” You can’t contain yourself as you throw your arms around his neck, nearly brought to tears as you think of how delicious the shrimp would be. “I am sooo hungry.”

Finnick doesn’t even budge at the force of you throwing your weight towards him;he probably knew you were going to do that, just as he knew you hadn’t eaten. He knew you eerily well, Observing you must take up a lot of his time. “I figured you could use a break between all that wine.”

You smell the alcohol on his breath and know he's been doing his fair share of drinking, but that’s not the only indicator — the touching becomes almost second nature when he’s got enough alcohol in him. 

Although you’ve pulled away from him, his fingers curl around your waist to keep you in front of him, his thumb drawing circles on the small of your back. You can feel his chest pressed against your back, feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as you lean into him. He’s a sturdy and comforting presence behind you. You tell yourself as you lean back that it’s to steady your feet, but you know deep down you long to feel his skin against yours, and you’re too drunk to think about the consequences of people seeing you.

“How much longer do we have to stay here?” he whispers, and you suppress a shudder at the tingles that erupt up and down your whole body, starting where his lips touched your ear.

“We haven't even seen Katniss or Peeta yet.” You hate how breathless your voice has become as his hand trails down to rest on your hip.

“I was being serious earlier, you know,” he says, and you're so close to him you can hear his heart race. Why would he be nervous to ask you to come over? It was casual, you were friends. Friends who helped each other out sometimes, but friends above everything. Being anything more terrified you.

“Really?” You pretend not to notice the pounding of his heart or the sharp intake of his breath. “Mine or yours?” It's funny to pretend either of you really have a place here — the training center’s living quarters hardly count as home.

“Mmm, we can decide later,” he says, suddenly pulling away. Cold air nips where his body once stood, and you’re thinking he’s finally come to his senses about being so handsy in public, but then he’s dragging you to the tile platform where people are dancing, and he’s sweeping you into his arms. 

The shrimp is long forgotten, as is the grumbling of your stomach. It’s too busy forming knots as you sway.

“You didn't even ask if I wanted to dance,” you smile, one hand instinctively going to Finnick’s shoulder while the other grasps one of his. His free hand rests on your lower back.

“Do you want to dance?” He drinks in the sight of you, savoring how close you’ve become.

“Yes,” your voice is barely above a whisper. The music is slow and soulful, and all you can do is stare at one another.

“Good,” he says, but you’re not sure how good this really is.

There was a reason you’d created rules for this whole… arrangement in the first place. You drew a hard line in the sand that Finnick kept trying to cross.

When Snow first told you what happened to desirable victors, you hadn’t believed him. And then, two days later, your boyfriend wound up dead. A freak accident at the power plant, they’d said, but you knew. Deep down you knew the timing was too close to be a coincidence, that Snow really did mean what he’d said about everyone you loved dying if you didn't comply.

You were terrified of the same thing happening to Finnick, so much so it was the only recurring nightmare that occupied your brain.

He’d been the one to suggest it be nothing more than just sex, though, probably for the same reasons that had held you back from asking for anything more. And, yeah, that should’ve been what you wanted, but you could admit to yourself that you were a hypocrite. For wanting all the good parts of him, but not the danger that came with it. For wanting him to be able to look past his own fears and want more from you, but not being willing to do the same. 

“When should we leave?” Your palms have grown sweaty at the unspoken desires racing through your brain, so you use it as an excuse to disentangle your arms from his body and rearrange them to clasp around the back of his neck.

To steady yourself, of course.

Now, both of his hands are on your hips and he draws you even closer so that you’re chest to chest, so close your breaths become one.

“Not yet.” His voice is soft, even pleading. “One more song.”

Upon closer inspection you find he’s tipsy, but not drunk. He’s a little looser but still of a sound mind, which is why it’s even more terrifying to look at him, because you can't think of a time where the two of you have acted like this fully sober. Neither of you are under the influence of drugs, or alcohol, or even overwhelming emotion that would make you do crazy things. Except the morning after the first time.

The sexual attraction had always been there, but the first time either of you acted on it had been after a particularly wild night that left the both of you to fill in the blanks as you woke up next to him, naked in your bed.

“I’m so sorry — so so sorry! Things got so out of control last night, it was a mistake,” you’d said hastily before he could say the same. You’d rather not be rejected when your head was pounding and you’d felt so sick. You’d clutched the sheets tight to your chest, suddenly self conscious by how bare you were.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he'd said it so casually you thought you'd misheard him at first. You probably looked as confused as you were, because he continued, “ It doesn’t have to be a mistake. I like you, I like… this,” he gestured to the two of you, and when you said nothing, he added hurriedly, “It doesn’t have to be anything. Actually, forget I even said—”

You'd cut him off with a kiss, and had fallen back against the silk sheets with the intention to burn every inch of him to memory, since you couldn’t remember the previous night and cursed yourself for it.

“Hello-ooo,” Finnick’s voice tore you back to reality. “Did you even hear what I said? The song’s over, we can leave now.”

You don’t really want to leave, but you suppose it’s for the best, so you nod and let him lead you to one of the many black cars that sit outside the President’s mansion. One designated for the tributes and victors that only drove to and from the training center. 

Finnick wishes he could read your mind, especially when you get that glazed over look in your eye, the one that signals you were in a land far away from here.

All night, he’d wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked. 

Glittery, silver eyeshadow made it look like your eyes were really sparkling when you looked at him. In a dress that was tailored to fit you just right, hugging you in all the right places and flowing down to your ankles, yet somehow leaving a tantalizing amount of bare skin exposed.

Your smile completed everything, though. The way it met your eyes when you saw him across the room… he’d do just about anything to make sure you’d smile at him like that again.

When he’d led you to the dance floor in the gardens, it’d been for his own selfish reasons. Not just that he wanted an excuse to hold you close to him, but because he knew you’d look exquisite against the night sky littered with stars. The moon bathed you in a softness that made you glitter and glow, every beam that struck your figure only further highlighting your beauty until he was certain you were from another world entirely.

He’d especially wanted to tell you how you looked then. But like the rest of the night, whenever he opened his mouth, his mouth went dry and his tongue became stuck in the back of his throat, forcing him into silence.

You might think he was the sun, but he thought you were the moon.

He looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky every night just for him.

If only you were willing to see it, instead of whatever twisted reality you’d decided was the truth.

He feels like he’s in somewhat of a daze as he leads you to the car, feels out of his body when the two of you push past his door in a tangled mess of hands and teeth and tongue. 

It’s rough and fast and everything he’s not feeling as your lips attach to different spots on his neck and suck hard enough to leave marks. When he’s sure there’s not a spot left untouched by you, he begins to return every bruising kiss you’ve left with some of his own with enough force to match. His lips detach from yours and dip down to your neck, your chest, until he’s biting at your breasts, sucking your nipple into his mouth with a hunger he hasn’t felt in so long.

He wants to feel you, taste you, hear you — he wants his whole being to be consumed by you. He removes his mouth to continue his kisses down your body, relishing in the soft moans he manages to elicit from you and committing every sound to memory, like he’s never going to get this opportunity again. He kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, and purposely skips past where he’s sure you want him most before settling his lips on your inner thighs, his kisses turning almost lazy.

He wants to continue this slow pace, like you have all the time in the world, but that’s just not how the two of you do things 

It’s not a show, or even a display of real passion — no, it’s just two pathetic people making the best out of a lousy situation, acting like physical pleasure will somehow cure the constant ache of your hearts.

He fears the sweetness he seeks from you is souring at that realization.

It’s not that he doesn’t want this. Oh no, he’s been thinking about this since the moment he saw you in that dress and measured how difficult it would be to take it off. Actually, if he was being completely honest with himself, he’d been thinking about this the moment he saw you step off the train platform.

It’s that he wants all of this and more, but he’s not sure how to go about it. It’s not like they’re being totally subtle, but if Snow found out… he’d likely use it against both of you. You’d be just another thing for Snow to hold over his head, another person for him to worry about, and Snow would probably do the same to you.

So maybe, if Finnick continued pretending this was nothing more than casual sex and you were nothing more than a good friend, Snow would be convinced too. 

“Finnick,” you’re breathless beneath him. “What’s wrong? You sort of spaced out for a sec… we can stop if you want.”

No, he doesn’t want to stop, but it’s probably the first time he’s ever been asked that. 

He shakes his head, both to answer you and to clear his head, and leans over to kiss you again. 

He’s glad you don’t press it further, not as his tongue finally laps at your clit and elicits a loud gasp from you that gives him the self satisfaction to continue.

Your fingers card through his hair and pull instinctively when he adds his fingers. Now it’s his turn to moan, and the vibrations make you shudder.

All this does is spur him on, wanting to hear the little moans and whimpers from you that he’s grown so familiar with. They only make him harder to the point where it’s almost painful, but it does nothing to slow him as he continues flicking and swirling his tongue. In fact it has the opposite effect, he only becomes more earnest and determined in his efforts.

When he adds a finger he feels a sharp tug at his roots and knows he’s doing the right things.

Since that very first night, Finnick Odair had thought you were too good to be true and too easy to slip through his fingers. So he made it his mission to commit you to memory, treating every encounter like it would be the last one. As a result, he knows every sensitive spot you have, every noise you make and what they mean.

When he gently sucks on your clit and lets his teeth graze it, he knows it’s only a matter of minutes before you become undone. Your hips buck towards him, begging for more, and he obliges with sliding in another finger.

He detaches his mouth for a second so he can soak up the memory of you like this. Your head is thrown back against the pillow and your hair strewn in every direction. A faint sheen of sweat has appeared on your face as you pant, eyes are screwed shut with pleasure.

You’re so beautiful he cursed himself for stopping, even for a moment. At that moment, he doesn’t care about his own pleasure, all he can think about when he closes his eyes and returns his mouth is the image of you.

You’re together when the theme of the Quarter Quell is announced.

The day starts out normal enough. You both have your… clients to attend to, but when Finnick walks through the doors of the apartment you’d been given to share with several other Victors who were bought by the Capitol, you can push the awfulness of the day aside to soak up as much of him as you can before one of you is sent back to your district.

When he suggests a shower, the horrors of the past few hours are washed down the drain when the hot water pours over you. It’s so hot that Finnick begins to complain that he’s starting to feel — and look — like a lobster being boiled alive.

“But now I’m cold,” you whine with your back to him, clattering your teeth together for dramatic effect.

“Really?” He’s inched closer, and suddenly you’re not shivering from the cold.

He is all consuming.

When you emerge from the shower you find your fingers pruney and the mirrors all fogged up — you've been in there far too long.

The two of you finally separate to get ready for bed, and when you finally slide into the bed next to Finnick, his arm instinctively goes around your shoulders. 

He’s flicking through different Capitol channels that are all different forms of mind numbing torture, before landing on the official news station where Snow is about to read from a card announcing the twist of the Third Quarter Quell.

“Oh! Wait, stop here, I forgot they were announcing it today,�� you say.

“I don’t think it matters that much,” Finnick’s expression is sour, but he doesn’t turn the television off. “It’ll be just as difficult to mentor as any of the other Games.”

“I don’t know… I mean, I couldn’t even imagine trying to train two extra tributes,” you muse, thinking about the last Quell, and almost miss what Snow says next.

In the next moment, you almost wish you had missed it.

“...shall be reaped from the existing pool of victors.”

The two of you have vastly different reactions. Finnick immediately springs up from the bed and begins to pace, only stopping when he hears the sound of strangled sobs fighting their way past your lips. 

In an instant he’s next to you, wrapping both his arms around you and tugging you close to his chest. “It’ll be okay,” he tries to soothe, but his own voice is shaky and you suspect the embrace is meant to comfort him just as much as it is you.

I’ve wasted so much time, you realize, and the awful, choked noises you make turn into something so much worse.

You begin to weep, utterly defeated. There’s no fight left in you, and that’s why it’s worse than the short cries, or even hot, angry tears. Realizing the past nine years of torture hadn’t been worth it, and you really should have died in that arena. It would’ve been so much more merciful than whatever this was.

You’re the only living female victor from your district, there’s no hope for you. Finnick, at least, has a chance at not being reaped at all.

“We’ll figure something out,” Finnick continues. “You know… with everything that’s been going on.”

His reference, although vague, makes you think long enough that your cries have paused. Plutarch and Thirteen, you realize. Surely they would be scrambling to come up with a plan right now, because how could Katniss — their beloved Mockingjay — perform for them if she died in another arena? But saving her didn’t leave much room for the rest of you.

“You’re right,” you force out even if you don’t believe him, because you don’t want his calm demeanor to disappear. If he starts to panic you’re sure you’ll lose it completely.

“We should get to bed,” he says abruptly. “I think we’ll have somewhere to be tomorrow.”

There are three of you victors gathered around the dining table in Plutarch’s mansion with him. You, Finnick, and Beetee. You know there are more victors in on it, but you three are the only ones currently in the Capitol, and nobody wants to waste any time. When everyone else arrives for the games, whether as a mentor or tribute, they’ll be informed.

“We have a military, we have political unrest, and we have our symbol. We have everything we need to make this work. Do you know how rare this is?” Plutarch laments. “Thirteen has hovercrafts, so we’ll have a way to get you all out if we can figure out how to work around the forcefield.”

“Which is easier said than done,” Beetee adds. You’re not sure how to feel about him — he’s incredibly intelligent, that’s for sure. He’s such a genius you feel out of place in this discussion, because what could you possibly have to add when he could solve basically anything? 

He carries himself with such palpable sadness, though. His shoulders are always hunched like they’re physically weighed down with emotion, and you’ve never seen him without deep circles under his eyes.

“Can’t you just turn them off?” Finnick asks, turning to Plutarch, “You’re the head gamemaker.”

“I wish it was that easy, but it won’t work,” Plutarch shakes his head. “It’ll give Snow too much of a warning, we need it to be so sudden he’s left scrambling.”

“We have to blow it up,” Beetee squints his eyes, deep in thought. 

“Tell me what supplies you need and I’ll make sure they’re in the Cornucopia,” Plutarch promises. “But do you know how to do that? Can you figure it out?”

“It’s Beetee,” Finnick insists, “Of course he can.”

Beetee brushes off the compliment with a shake of his head. “It will require a lot…” he pauses at an odd place in the conversation, a habit of his you’ve picked up on, “... of calculations.”

“I could probably help with that,” you interject yourself into the conversation for the first time. “With the calculations, I mean. We do a lot of stuff like that at the power plants in Five.”

Plutarch breaks into a smile while Beetee nods his head slowly. “Excellent. Tell me what numbers you need, and I’ll get them for you.”

You nod earnestly, your chest swelling with a mix of emotions you haven’t felt in forever: confidence, pride, and hope. Like it isn’t just the talk of four lunatics around the dinner table, but a feasible option. A better future for Panem was being dangled above your head, just out of reach.

By the time you see Finnick again, that hope has been completely squashed in all the fuss of the week.

Right now, you’re both just tributes changing out of the ridiculous costumes you’d donned during the opening ceremony.

You’re not talking to him though, not after you saw him cozying up to Katniss Everdeen in nothing but a knotted golden net.

Rationally, you know you’re being a little ridiculous. The net isn’t his choice, it’s his stylist’s angle to get him sponsors. And he’s talking to Katniss in that awful persona he takes on when he’s in the Capitol, the personality everyone expects him to have.

Still, bile rises in your throat at the sight of them.

Trying to slip away unnoticed, though, proved to be difficult due to your illuminated costume shining bright against the evening sky. At least your stylist tried to make your outfit unique this time, dressing you up as lightning to represent Five’s industry of power. It’s still a poor imitation of Twelve’s fire costumes though, because they blow everyone else’s outfits out of the water with no competition.

You hear Finnick call your name as you hurry towards the tribute center and ignore him. You reach the elevator alone and turn around quickly, only to see Finnick standing as the doors closed on him.

Well, almost closing. A hand jutted through the elevator doors and forced them open again, revealing Finnick in all his glory — he hadn’t changed out of the net.

“Almost thought you were trying to avoid the pleasure of my company, honey.” His voice is annoyed and the nickname is not endearing but patronizing.

“Why don’t you go ask Katniss to keep you company?” You didn’t want to say anything, because really it’s irrational to think anything could be going on between him and Katniss, which just means that you look like a jealous fool and nothing else. But seeing him with someone so strong and sure of herself, the complete opposite of you, made you realize how quickly Finnick could slip through your fingers. He was so easy to lose.

“Sweetheart…” he begins, and you can tell he’s trying not to sound too amused, “The whole reason she’s in this mess is because she’s with Peeta. And… she’s seventeen. She’s a kid.”

Both good points, which only annoys you even further because it just proves you have no reason to feel the way you do. “Whatever,” you scoff, turning away from him and wondering how much longer this elevator is going to take. Please, let it be done.

It’s like someone’s answered your pleas because the door rings at the level four and it’s Finnick’s cue to steps off. “By the way,” he says over his shoulder. “I didn't know you were the jealous type. It’s cute.”

The door shuts before you have the chance to retort.

In training, it’s hard to do anything at all. The only things flashing in your mind are the faces of the tributes in your games and the tributes you failed to train. All of whom have been dead at least a year, but they haunt you just as much as they did on the first day. 

You’d gotten so close last year. Finch — a clever, redheaded girl — had made it to the final four before she’d died. It was the closest any of your tributes had gotten to victory since you’d been crowned.

She haunts you the most, the way she was little more than skin and bones by the time she died. A direct failure on your part; everyone had been rooting for the star crossed lovers or the stereotypical career from Two that they’d overlooked your tribute, no matter how hard you’d advocated for her and practically begged for sponsors.

“You alright?” Finnick sidles up beside you, holding a thick rope in his hand that’s tied suspiciously like a noose.

“Yep!” You force out a more cheery tone than you’d wished, and cringed at how sharp and on the verge of a breakdown you sounded. “I’m going to help Johanna out.”

Johanna Mason did not need help. She was throwing axes at one of the weapons stations when you popped up behind her and forced out a greeting.

She gives a little shriek and drops the axe dangerously close to her toes. “You see a girl with an axe in her hand and decide to jump her?” She seethes, “Do not do that! Or it’ll drop on your toes next time!”

Her words are furious, but you know she’s harmless at the moment. You know her well under unfortunate circumstances, from two years ago when your tributes had formed an alliance and the two of you had been forced to work alongside one another as mentors. 

Until the tribute from Seven split your tribute’s head open with an axe.

“Sorry,” you huff, picking up an axe and marveling at the weight of it. “I had to get away from Finnick. He’s been freaking me out lately.”

“Freaking you out… how?” Johanna narrows her eyes, and it's then you remember she’s in on the rebel plot to break Katniss out of the arena, and the rest of you if you were lucky.

Your eyes widen as you realize what she’s thinking. “Oh— not about that, he’s just… hovering. I don’t think I’ve spent this much time with him during the daytime since we first met.”

Johanna visibly relaxes and then rolls her eyes. “Please tell me you guys aren’t still doing that stupid friends with benefits thing. Please.”

“It’s not stupid!” You object, a little offended by the way she’s framing it. “I told you, it’s for the best… right now, at least.”

“You guys are such idiots,” she sighs, eyeing the axe in your hand. “Are you actually going to use that?”

With a shake of your head you hand it off to her carefully. “It’s just that… you know, with… Snow…” your voice drops to a whisper.

She cuts you off. “Yeah. I know.”

Oh. Yes, she does know exactly what you mean. A wave of shame overwhelms you and you open your mouth to shower her with apologies but she cuts you off.

“I don’t need you to pity me. Well—” She thinks about this for a moment and changes her mind. “Actually, if it makes you listen to what I’m gonna tell you, then yeah, poor me, all alone. Whatever. I’m telling you, you’re being a fucking idiot.”

“I am not—”

“You are!” Johanna hurls an axe at the board with so much force it breaks completely. “He likes you. It’s kind of sickening, actually, and so obvious. I mean, he’s literally staring at you right now— no, don’t look, brainless!”

“Johanna,” You begin, watching her pick up another axe. “I appreciate this tough love… aspect… whatever you have going on, but—”

“If you want to waste your last week alive pining for a guy you already have… be my guest. But don’t talk to me about it, it’s annoying.”

She’s crude, and mean, but she’s right. All the worries you have will be gone in a week. Either one of you will be dead, or you’ll be freed from the Capitol’s chains and in the safe hands of Thirteen.

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore,” you say abruptly. “How are you doing with this whole Quell thing?”

She snorts and throws another axe, her jaw tight with anger. “I don’t really want to talk about that.”

You’re starting to feel that maybe she hates you when she asks, “Have you ever thrown one of these before? I mean, probably not, judging by the way you were holding that one, but…”

“Yes, I’d love to learn!” You know that’s what she’s trying to ask. It’s her version of trying to be kind, even if it’s laced with insults and sarcasm.

A hint of a real smile appears, and you can't help but admire how pretty she is, behind all the anger.

For the next half hour, Johanna teaches you how to throw an axe, while you chit chat about mildly unimportant things. She soon gets bored of small talk and starts cursing the Capitol six ways to Sunday, and you think how nice it must be to be free about how you feel. 

Not that Johanna hasn’t paid the price for it— no, the Capitol deserves every spitting word she throws their way. You brush off her rants with nervous laughter and look around to see if anyone’s listening, because you still have your family at home, but deep down you agree. 

It’s refreshing though, to talk with a real friend who’s unafraid to speak her mind and actually understands what you’re going through. Your friends back home, however sweet, couldn’t even begin to know the half of it.

“I wish I could teach you something,” you say ruefully, wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead. “Working in power plants doesn't really prepare us for the Games.”

Johanna shrugs. “It wasn’t a trade, I was just helping you out. And… you’re the least insufferable person here, so I'd rather talk with you than anyone else.”

You’re sure it’s the kindest thing she’ll ever say to you, so all you do is grin and hand her an axe back. She catches your arm and pulls you close, like she’s going to hug you, but instead just leans in and whispers in your ear, “Don’t back out. Or I’ll actually have to kill you.”

You know what she’s talking about, and you know she’s not kidding this time.

Now it’s time to find another victim — err, friend — at a different station to continue avoiding Finnick. You spot him with Katniss, again, but to her credit she looks less than amused at whatever he’s saying. You squash the flame of jealousy beginning to burn in your stomach, because you’ve been over this with him already. That, and the fact that you don’t really have the right to be jealous in the first place.

Finnick looks up from the rope he’s fiddling with and his eyes find you, which now means you have to scramble to find a station.

You spot Cashmere at the archery station and make a beeline, relieved to see her brother is not with her, because it makes the introductions and inevitable awkward small talk a little more manageable.

“Hi,” you force out. Cashmere fixes you with an icy stare but says nothing for a long moment, she just observes. She’s terrifying, to say the least. To busy yourself you pick up a bow and fiddle with it a bit, examining the craftsmanship in an attempt to look busy.

“You shoot?” She says after a minute, her voice almost making you jump.

“Not… really…” And just like that, you’ve lost the singular ounce of interest she held for you.

You listen to the instructor as he tries to teach you how to shoot, but it's clear after the first few tries this is not your strong suit. 

You wish you’d been born into a district that gave you a natural advantage in the Games; you’d won yours by nothing more than sheer luck. Everyone who hadn’t been killed by starvation, dehydration, or mutts were too busy killing one another before they paid any attention to you.

You hear him before you see him, the soft chuckle as one of your arrows misses the target entirely. “You should take lessons from Katniss,” Finnick says lightly, but it only makes you frown.

“I’d like to see you try,” you grumble, but you don’t actually want him to try because you’re sure he’s legally required to be perfect at everything he does.

“Why don’t I show you how to throw a trident instead?” He suggests, and that's the last thing you want to do. What you want is time. Time to think about what Johanna said, if all this angst was even worth it when you’d be dead in a week. Time to think about what you actually want. 

Time, unfortunately, is a luxury a victor would never be able to afford, often wasting it locked in a prison of their own minds.

“Okay,” you concede finally. “I guess you’d be an okay teacher… I’ve heard you’re not half bad.”

The training week has come and gone, the interviews with Caesar Flickerman having been the last hurrah before they sent you all off to die. 

You tried, unconvincingly, to remind yourself of the rebel plot to break everyone out, but it did little to soothe your nerves. You suspected they didn’t let you in on everything; that much was clear by the silent communication between Finnick and Johanna.

All of these thoughts are racing through your mind and keeping you from sleeping. The pillows have been thrown around and the sheets have tangled and bunched around your legs as you toss and turn, trying to find a position that would pull you into at least a few hours of slumber.

All of your thoughts circle back to Finnick. Throughout the week you’d spent several nights in his bed, but tonight you’d both agreed you needed your rest to prepare for the day tomorrow. 

Still, you can’t worry about him any more knowing he’s just a floor below you. Throwing on a thin robe you make your way to the elevator, not exactly sure what you want but deciding your mind will be made up by the time you reach him. 

You don’t even have to raise your hand to knock, the door flies open and you’re met with sea green eyes that pierce right into yours. They’re clear of sleepiness and brighten as they land on you, so you know he’s been awake like you.

You walk past him and know he’s trailing behind you, closing the door to his bedroom once you’re both inside. “I want it to be like the first time.”

“What?” 

“You know, the first time we…” you trail off, suddenly shy, and hope he’ll fill in the blanks on his own. 

“Yeah… what about it?” Finnick’s eyebrows furrow into a slight frown, like he’s trying to remember that night, the one that’s hazy with emotions and drenched with alcohol.

“I just… I mean…” You struggle to find the words, because what about it is right. “I guess what I’m saying is I don’t want to think about the consequences.”

Not a whole truth, but enough of one. You want to be able to be with him one last time, and don’t care about the consequences because you're sure to be dead soon. 

There’s a long, drawn out pause as he looks at you. Really looks at you, like he’s staring straight into your soul. It’s so silent you’re sure he can hear the pounding of your heart as blood roars in your ears, sure he can feel the air that’s become suffocatingly thick with tension.

“Okay,” he says simply, and that’s all you need before you close the distance and kiss him.

You’ve kissed him many times before, but this one is different. You’re expecting it to be like the others, desperate and rough like you’d lose each other in a second. 

This one is slow, like you have all the time in the world. For this one night, only two things are really certain: you have Finnick, and Finnick has you. The ones that follow that first one are just as deliberate and calm, so much so that you lose track of time. While it couldn’t have been that long, it was beginning to feel like hours, any pause being reduced to nothing more than short breaks to breathe before you reconnected.

You’re so wrapped up in the feeling of his lips against yours that you don’t even notice you’re moving until the back of your legs hit the bed and you almost fall back.

He steadies you with a hand on your waist and pulls you back in for another kiss.

“Someone’s eager to get me in bed,” he mumbles against your lips with a smile.

“Am I that obvious?” You ask with a giggle, a little embarrassed at how breathless you sound.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” he pulls you closer until your body is flush against his and you can feel everything. “I think I’m a little more desperate.”

Yes, judging by the hardness you feel against your body, maybe he is.

This time you fall back intentionally, pulling him with you and savoring the feeling of his weight pinning you against the mattress.

You never want to stop kissing him like this. His lips are working in a way that’s so sweet and gentle you’re getting dangerously close to blurting out something you shouldn’t.

When he pulls back, propping himself up with his forearms on either side of you, you can really look at his face.

The green of his eyes are barely visible because his pupils are completely blown out, like even his eyes are desperate to get as much of you as they can. His bronze curls are beginning to stick to his forehead from the sweat beginning to dot his hairline.

The only thing that shocks you is that his cheeks are tinted a light pink, and his lips, reddened and glossy from the kissing, are pursed together in…

“Are you nervous?” You blurt out, eyes widening at the realization.

“No,” he mumbles, leaning forward to kiss you again, but you press a hand to his chest that forces him to keep your gaze.

“Why’re you nervous? We’ve done this like, a million times,” you laugh, but he’s not smiling.

Finnick’s answer surprises you so much that your own smile is instantly wiped from your face. “I just want to make sure it’s good for you. I want you to be happy… even if it’s only for a little bit.”

His tone is so earnest and anxious you’re sure you’re about to cry, because no one’s ever been this sweet to you. Except him. “Okay,” you whisper. Those funny three words are jumping in the back of your throat, and you have to swallow hard and kiss him to make sure they disappear.

Still connected by your lips, you roll over until you’re straddling him, his back propped against the headboard. You never want to stop kissing him; when his lips are on yours it’s like you’re in a whole different world. One without all the worries that weigh you down and pry you apart from him. It’s the most relief you’ve felt since your Reaping Day that you whine when his lips leave yours.

He laughs a little at your desperation, his hands sliding under your shirt and raising it above your head before tossing it aside.

Finnick makes quick work of the rest of your clothes and his own, and before you know it you’re both naked.

You’re glad he flips you over because you're a little embarrassed how wet you’ve become — not that it’d be a secret for long.

His hands slide down and gently pull your legs apart so he can settle comfortably between them.

Now it’s your turn to feel nervous, unfamiliar with the position you’re in — at eye level with one another. It’s so different from the impersonal ones you’re used to. 

When he’s behind you, you can almost be satisfied with it being just sex. You’re free to pretend it’s anyone, it doesn’t have to be Finnick.

But now, looking into his eyes and being met with a stare just as intense, you hope he can't feel your pulse skyrocketing.

Just as you feel the familiarity of one of his fingers working its way inside you, you’re hit with a force of emotion so hard it knocks the wind out of you and you have to hide a gasp. You realize, with a stab to your chest, you never want this to end, but know it will. Know you have to make this a memorable goodbye in case only one of you survives.

He makes you feel so good, knows your body so well it’s basically second nature when he pumps his fingers in and out in a way that makes you arch towards his hand, silently begging for more.

He’s just about to slide a second finger in when you know he senses the change in how you’re kissing him. It’s more like the desperate, hungry ones you're both used to. 

In a moment he’s withdrawn completely and you cry out at the loss. “Why’d you do that?” You groan.

“What’s wrong with you?” Finnick demands, holding your chin with one of his hands and forcing you to hold eye contact with him.

“Nothing, can you just get back to—”

“Bullshit.” He withdraws his body from you completely, leaving you cold and lonely as he sits back on his knees. His eyes widen as he looks at you, and you can literally see his pupils returning to their normal size. “You don't want to not worry about the consequences,” he realizes. “You’re just here to say goodbye.”

You want to protest and sit up, but he’s reading you to filth. “Finnick, I—”

“No,” he says with so much force it surprises you, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “No, I told you we’re going to be fine, why are you acting like this is the end?”

You can recognize the edge of terror in his voice and know he’s not really mad at you. He’s panicked, because if you don’t believe his words, why should he?

“Finnick,” you say again, gently this time, and he slowly opens his eyes. You reach your hand towards his face and cup his cheek, an act so tender you can feel your own heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. “I want to believe you. About everything. Really, I do, I just… I just want to do it right this one time.”

And it’s true. You’ve been intimate with him countless times, but they all feel so wrong compared to the rawness of tonight.

“We’re gonna be fine,” he whispers, grasping onto the hand that’s on his cheek and bringing it down to his chest. You feel his heart beating a million miles a minute, thudding so hard against his chest it might just burst free.

You nod, knowing you don’t have the strength to argue. You want tonight to be perfect, just in case it’s the last time, and you’re already missing the feeling of his lips.

Finnick seems to have lost the internal battle he’s been warring against himself, because when he surges forward to kiss you, his words are seemingly forgotten.

His kisses are still tender and steady, but an edge of desperation creeps toward the end. As if when you pull away to catch your breath, it’s the last time he’ll ever feel them.

You return to the position of before and try to fall back into the rhythm that’d been temporarily disrupted.

His fingers find their way back inside you just as his lips reconnect to yours, but this time you’re impatient. You want to be ready and able to enjoy it, but you can’t stand wasting time without him inside you, knowing you only had a few hours left together.

He seems to sense this, too, because his fingers curl inside you and send shockwaves up and down your spine. Blindly, you reach for his pants and fumble with the waistband for a moment before slipping your hand inside.

Instantly you find his cock, hard and practically jumping at your touch as you wrap your hand around it. You’re rewarded with his hips jumping towards your touch and groan that’s immediately swallowed by your kiss.

Just a simple touch has him impatient, understanding your sudden desperation. The brief whine as his lips leave yours is replaced with a moan as you feel the thickness of him pressing at your entrance.

“Wait!” You cry out, so suddenly it startles him into jumping back.

“What’s wrong?” He looks panicked, then grief stricken, like he’s done something wrong.

“Nothing, I just needed to say—” Please, just let me say it, you beg your brain. “I love you.”

Finnick’s features instantly relax and he’s back against you in an instant. The smile that’s overtaken his entire face is the brightest you’ve ever seen.

“I love you too,” he says in between kisses, “I thought I was being pretty obvious about it though.”

He doesn’t even wait for a reply before thrusting into you. Your nails dig into his shoulders and he pauses, letting you adjust for a moment.

“I think you were made for me,” He breathes, forehead dipping down to connect with yours.

“Oh come on, don’t be cheesy— ah!” He’s setting a pace that’s been like the rest of the night, slow and sweet, but you know it’s only a matter of time before you both grow impatient with it.

For a while there’s only the sounds of labored breathing and skin against skin as he thrusts into you, until your gasps and moans grow more frequent and you both know you’re getting close.

He increases the pace to something much more demanding now, not caring about the path of scratches your fingernails are making down his perfect skin, marring his perfection ever so slightly.

“Please—” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, because you know he’ll give you the release you so desperately crave. Still, with the coil wound tight at the base of your spine it’s all you can do in your sex-drunken mind.

You both come right after the other, completely in sync, there’s no hesitation when Finnick wraps his arms around you and pulls you onto his chest.

“I meant it, y’know,” you say quietly after a minute.

“Me too. All of it.”

The giddiness you feel at his words disappears at the reality of the situation. “I wish you would’ve told me sooner. We’ve wasted so much time.”

“I know,” he sighs, because that's all he can say.

Tomorrow, everything will change. Both your lives will be on the line for a greater cause, your next breath will not be guaranteed, and neither will his. But for these few sacred hours, before the first cracks of dawn seep through the curtains and drag you back to reality, you have certainty, you have contentment. 

A sigh escapes your lips, and Finnick looks down at you resting your cheek against his chest.

He hopes you can’t feel his heart accelerating when you begin to draw little patterns in his skin.

“What’s wrong?”

The look in your eyes makes him wish he hadn’t asked.

“I’m just going to miss you.”

He could protest. Could point you towards the logistics that favor both your survival, could ramble about how the rebels are going to get all of you out. How you won’t ever need to miss him because he plans on sticking to you like glue until he draws his last breath.

The little part of him that's just as scared as you are stops him from saying any of it. He’s agreed to sacrifice himself and everyone around him to ensure Katniss and Peeta make it out. He could do it without hesitation if he didn’t have to think about you.

Instead, he just presses a long kiss to your temple and pulls you impossibly closer. You think he’d burrow himself in your skin if he could.

“Me too,” is the last thing you hear before the lull of sleep, aided by the warmth and safety you feel in his arms.

You hope tomorrow never comes.

[mirrored-muse]

Hi could u maybe do a Lottie x female reader romantic where Lottie takes the reader to the lake and swims with her and realises she’s attracted to the reader smth along those lines ty !

ᴀᴜʀᴏʀᴀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀᴅ ᴘʀᴏꜱᴇ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 722

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴅᴀʏ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟᴏᴛᴛɪᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴏᴛᴛɪᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴡꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀ/ɴ: ʜɪ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛɪɴɢ. ɪ’ᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴꜰɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴛᴛɪᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ. 😭

The lake wasn’t far from camp, but the walk there felt longer than you remembered.

You followed Lottie through the trees, the sun starting to dip just enough to cool the air. It was quiet—just the sound of your footsteps and the soft rustle of branches brushing against each other overhead.

When you reached the edge of the water, she turned to you.

“No one comes out here this time of day,” she said. “It’s safe.”

You nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face. “You sure it’s not too cold?”

“It’s cold,” she said simply, a small smile playing on her lips. “But you get used to it.”

She stepped out of her boots, one at a time, and sat down to peel off her socks. Her movements were slow, and thoughtful, like everything she did had a reason behind it. You hesitated for a second, watching her.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said without looking at you. “I just thought you might like the quiet.”

You let out a breath and started pulling off your shoes. “No, I do. It’s just easy to forget what peace feels like these days.”

Lottie nodded. “It’s rare out here. But it’s still here.”

Pulling your dress overhead, you step into the water together, Lottie following close behind. It felt like ice at first, sharp and shocking, but after a few moments, your body started to adjust. Lottie waded deeper, her expression calm as always until she dipped under completely. When she surfaced, her dark hair slicked back and water dripping from her lashes, she looked serene.

You swam closer, breath catching a little in your throat.

“I get why you come here now,” you said. “It’s quiet, but it’s not… empty.”

Lottie’s eyes met yours. “It’s the kind of quiet that listens.”

You floated beside her in the still water, close enough to feel the heat from her skin despite the chill. The sun caught the edge of her face, making her eyes look softer than usual. There was something comforting about the way she held herself, like no matter how chaotic things got, Lottie was always steady.

“Do you ever get scared out here?” you asked suddenly. The question surprised even you.

She didn’t answer right away, seemingly lost in thought.

“Sometimes,” she said, voice low. “But not with you.”

Your chest tightened at that. You looked down at the surface of the water, watching the way the ripples moved around the two of you.

Lottie was quiet again, then she said, “Out here, everything’s always watching, always shifting. But with you, it feels still. Like I can just exist.”

You turned your head toward her. She wasn’t smiling, but her eyes were open in a way they weren’t with most people. You could see the truth in them, she meant it.

You didn’t say anything. Just reached out and lightly brushed your fingers against hers beneath the surface.

She didn’t pull away from your touch. Her fingers curled slightly, brushing yours back under the water.

The ripples between you stilled for a moment.

Lottie’s gaze stayed on your hand. “Sometimes I think… the quiet knows things before I do,” she said softly.

You tilted your head, a small crease forming in your brow. “What do you mean?”

She was quiet for a few seconds. The kind of silence that didn’t feel heavy, just full of thought.

“I didn’t know what I was feeling. Not for a while,” she murmured. “But then I’d come out here and think about you. And it was like.. the stillness of everything made it clear.”

Her eyes met yours again, steady, open, vulnerable in a way that made your breath catch.

“There’s something different about you.”

Your heart thudded once, hard. Lottie never said anything just to say it. When she spoke, she meant it.

“It’s not just comfort I feel when I’m near you,” she murmured. “It’s something deeper.”

You didn’t answer right away. Just let her words settle between you for a moment.

Then you said, barely above a whisper, “I feel the same.”

Lottie nodded slowly like she already knew you’d say it. There was no rush in her smile, only a subtle warmth that felt like sunlight on your skin.

“I thought you might.”

[buriedpentacles]

How to Work with Nature Spirits

Warning: Long Post under the Cut!!

Before getting into this, I want to preface that this is heavily based on my experiences and UPG. This is intended to be a helpful guide for anyone not sure on where to start but my Number 1 piece of advice will always be: Just go for it. Your experiences will be different from mine and that's a good thing! Be respectable and figure out what works best for you. With that in mind, let's get into it.

First, let's define 'nature spirits'. Nature spirits may conjure a number of associations and concepts depending on your culture, religion or practice! For the purpose of this post, 'Nature Spirits does not refer to any nature-associated deities or entities such as The Fae, Dryads/Naiads/Oceanids/etc, Elves etc - while many of these practices could be applied, each of these entities has specific cultural and religious etiquette attached that I'm not going to get into!

In this post, Nature Spirits are the spirits of all natural things, following the animistic view that everything has spirit. Plants, animals, rocks, metal, landscapes, etc. This is an incredibly broad definition, that can be narrowed or adapted however you see fit, nature is not an easily defined box. You can create your own categories or definitions, if that makes it easier to understand. For example, I may categorise certain spirits by a dominant element, or biome, or breadth, but these categories will always only ever be guidelines. (Note: at some point I want to make a post about different nature spirits along with some personal experiences. Will link here!)

Which brings us to the next point: accept that nature is not neat, and neither are the spirits. There is a level of overlap between different spirits that cannot be easily discerned - there is no clear, easily drawn line between the spirit of The Forest and the spirit of the Trees. The Spirit of that One Particular Crow is not entirely separated from the Spirit of Crow, but they are also not the same. The Spirit of the Stream will flow into the Spirit of The Ocean and you cannot pull them apart, yet you can still work with one but not the other. It is all a tightly interwoven web of spirit, it mirrors the balance and entwinement of the complex ecosystems all around us. Spirits and energies can shift and change with each meeting because of the changing seasons, the time of day, the influence of the landscape around it, or just because. Some spirits can be particularly variable, and it's important to recognise this! When working with nature spirits you must be open minded and adaptable, meet them as they are.

So how do you actually work with them?

This can largely depend on your goal, so I'll break this into two categories; A one time or "casual" relationship, or building a long-term relationship. I have both of these types of relationships - it would be impossible for me to have a long-term relationship with each individual spirit, but sometimes I want to ask them for help. My long term relationships are with Nature itself, and a handful of plant/animal/land spirits, the rest of my practice is made up of much shorter-term relationships that are made much easier by my long-term relationship with Nature. Again, figure out what works for you!

Working with Nature Spirits Once/Casually

Maybe you have a specific spell or petition that you think a nature spirit would be PERFECT to help you with. Or you want to add an extra bit of oomph to your spellwork by working with the spirit(s) of your ingredients. Or maybe, you just want to give (nature) spirit work a go. Whatever the reason, sometimes we just want a short-term relationship with a spirit. This can also be a helpful approach if you want to take something from nature* (i.e. a tree branch to be your wand, some flowers as spellworking ingredients, etc) and want to ensure it's permitted and you respect the spirit.

The best way to approach this, from my experience, is to be honest with the spirit, and respectful. Some Nature Spirits have no interest in helping someone they don't have a relationship with, and some spirits don't want to help period. Leave an offering for the spirit (expanded upon in the Offerings section further in the post), call upon them and ask them if they would be open to what you need. It really can be as simple as:

"Spirit of Oak, I ask you humbly if you would aid in my enchantment. I give you this offering and ask if I may take one of your many branches. I ask that you may allow your magic and wisdom to stay with it and empower it to be my wand. Thank you."

You may get in an answer through divination such as tarot or runes, through your clairsenses, or you can ask the spirit to provide a sign. If they say no, respect that. Thank them and leave. If you aren't willing to hear no, you should not be working with spirits.

If they say yes, but give certain requirements - i.e. "Yes, but only so much. Yes, but I want an offering of xyz in return. Etc" respect that and consider if you're willing to oblige. If not, thank them and leave. Spirits do have preferences and requests, and sometimes they change over time! I.e. in Summer, Oak may be happy for you to take one of his branches, but in Winter, when he and his wards (Oak, in my experience, is a very protective and familial spirit, often charging himself with protection of the land he lives on) are struggling, he may only allow you to take it if you agree to leave some extra bowls of water as an offering.

This doesn't just have to be a one-off, even for short-term relationships. If you are asking for quite a lot or something significant, you should leave multiple offerings over time before asking for permission - especially if the spirit you're working with might be a bit less welcoming.

*If taking something from nature, always ensure you are taking no more than you need and, if applicable, leave more than enough for that resource to survive (unless it is invasive to your area). Respecting the mundane balance of nature is the most important thing. Also, check any laws in your area regarding collecting feathers, certain plants, bones etc!!

Building a Long-Term Relationship

If you want to build a longer relationship with Nature Spirits, or connect more deeply with nature as a whole, there's a few 'steps' I would recommend:

Research and learn about your local area! What plants are you most likely to find? What animals and trees? How do the seasons change and impact the land? What patterns can you find? Do they align with your personal experiences? Join local Birdwatching or foraging groups, pick up localised wildlife books, take online courses! Learn about the world around you!

Get outside and experience it! Get a nature journal to record what you notice - when do you notice the bees coming back after Winter? What are the first plants to sprout in Spring? When do the first Autumnal leaves fall? What animals do you see most? What trees? Sit outside with no intent other than to *feel*. Sit in the forest and let your energy merge with everything around you; feel how the tree roots stretch beneath the soil, and intermingles with stretching mycelium, feel the flap of insects wings and the wind on your skin. Feel the energy of the spirits around you. Like when trying to befriend a crow or stray cat, you must give them time to adjust to your presence.

Leave offerings on a regular basis. This can be done on your altar at home, but often the most effective offerings are ones that aid the physical side of the spirits of well!

Talk to them (without necessarily expecting a response). Say good morning to the magpies on your way to work, tell the trees about your day. Even if you are trying to build a relationship with one specific spirit, it never hurts to connect to nature and its other spirits - sort of like being polite to the in-laws. All of nature is connected, if you're trying to befriend Lavender but throw litter out the car window, it's gonna be much harder to forge a connection.

Ask the spirit if they want a working relationship with you! And respect their answer if they say no. If they say yes, ask them how you've been doing so far - is there something you've been doing that they don't like? Or that they wish you would do more? Do they have any preferences? Requests? Some spirits don't like to communicate through tarot, others have specific times of day they prefer to talk. Some of this can be discerned through research (i.e. nocturnal animal spirits might prefer nighttime communication) but much of it can only be learned by *asking the spirit*.

Keep it up. This is it. This is what a relationship with spirits is: consistent communication and respect. What you choose to do with this relationship, and how it evolves and changes is entirely up to you! Nature is not a religion, these spirits are not a part of a specific tradition or culture (though you are more than welcome to incorporate your own culture/traditions/religions into your relationship with them) and so there are no pre-set prayers, offerings, rituals etc; it is up to you to build a unique and personalised relationship with them!

If you ever want to end it, be respectful and polite. Thank the spirit for everything, provide them a final offering and say goodbye.

Offerings for Nature Spirits

Here are some suggestions of offerings for Nature Spirits, but they are just suggestions and recommendations from my own experiences; come up with your own and figure it out *with* the spirit!! I've divided them into physical and non-physical offerings:

Water (a classic, hard to go wrong)

Wildlife Safe food (this will require research and will be very dependant on your area. HOWEVER, it should not be done regularly, and ideally should be in your garden rather than a public or "wild" area - bird feeders, feeding hedgehogs etc Feeding wildlife can cause more harm than help a lot of the time).

Coins, tobacco, crystals etc (some 'traditional' spirit offerings in many cultures. These are best for any indoor altars rather than outside.

Picking up Litter or other acts of service (an amazing offering, often highly appreciated)

Removing Invasive Species!

Physical touch (NOT for animals or potentially dangerous plants. Do your research. This may be a hand in the river, a hug to the tree, bare feet on the soil.)

Time (a simple, yet much appreciated offering)

A poem, artwork, prayer

Donating to their conservation/aid

Other parts of nature (laying flowers at the foot of the tree, berries for the crow spirit, dressing a fox skull in leaves)

In my experience, acts of service or creation are often much more appreciated than physical offerings! Art in their name, cleaning the local stream of litter, calling your PM to pressure more conservation policies etc are far better than leaving a - potentially disruptive and harmful - piece of food.

What NOT to Do?

This is also UPG based, but there are some things I would really NOT recommend.

Not doing your research. You wouldn't jump into a relationship with a deity without learning anything about them, why do the same for nature spirits? Just because they don't have specific religious lore surrounding them, doesn't mean you shouldn't learn. Pick up a field guide or book on local folklore.

Leaving human food outside. You baked a tasty brownie and want to share it with the Fly Agaric spirit you're building a relationship with? Great - leave it as an offering but TAKE IT BACK HOME WITH YOU. Let the spirit take the energy from it it wants/needs, and then remove it. Do not leave human food outside. If you INSIST on leaving a form of food offering, it MUST be safe for the local wildlife.

Littering. Doing a spell with Birch? Cool. Make sure you don't leave anything behind. Ideally, use compostable or wildlife safe ingredients (i.e. beeswax candles, toilet paper tubes instead of spell jars etc)

Graffiti/Carvings on trees/rocks etc. Sigils and art can be a great tool/offering but PLEASE don't graffiti or carve into trees/rocks/natural things. It does damage them. Write a with your finger in sand or on your palm or recreate it with branches instead.

Taking more than you need. Don't collect every shell you see on a beach, don't pick up every skull or bone your find in a forest, don't pick every mushroom or herb in a patch. Take what you need, ask permission, leave more than you take.

DO NOT GO INTO FORAGING/BONE COLLECTING/HIKING/LITTER PICKING WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY PRECAUTIONS. Know the laws in your area. Know the trails and paths. Have a map if the area if large enough. Know what plants are safe to touch, if you're not sure - DON'T TOUCH IT. Know what is safe to forage, ideally have an expert to confirm, if you are not 10000% certain, LEAVE IT (and I mean 100000% certain. Not 99%). Wear proper hiking boots, be aware of the weather and any risks in the area. Keep up with weather warnings. Know if there's any traps in the woods. Going litter picking? Make sure you're aware of any local vaccination attempts, as the devices used to help vaccinate wild animals may look like rubbish. Be sensible, be SAFE.

General Tips and Advice

Use common sense and critical thinking.

Notice how I kept saying "local" in this post? That's because it's ideal for a nature-based practice to be localised to your surrounding area! I live in the UK, so whats the point in me trying to build a relationship with spirit of Bald Eagle? It has no roots in my land, nor in my heritage or craft. It is much easier to connect to a nature spirit that you can actually, physically visit, or that has a deep connection to your culture/religion/heritage than one that you thought "seemed cool".

Take it slow, and take it easy. There are no strict rules besides don't be a jerk. The best expert on any particular spirit is that spirit!

However, its important to be safe. Know how to protect yourself and how to banish. Don't call on any spirit you can't get rid of. Not all nature spirits are friendly.

Nature spirits are also not a monolith. They overlap, they blur and twist together but working with Bramble is an entirely different experience to working with Lavender. Be prepared. You can typically get an idea of a spirit's personality through research - it peeks through in the science and ecology, as well as the folklore.

Practice energy work! Nature spirits, in my experience, love to communicate through energy. Sit with yourself for a while, learn what thoughts are yours, what sensations are your own, so that you can differentiate from others. Get used to the feeling of nature and its spirits - they will guide you and help you, they will teach you knowledge you cannot imagine.

You're allowed to say no, and so are they.

Do not be deterred by your circumstances. You live in a city? There's still nature spirits there, a lot of them. (Will link my post about Urban Nature Spirit Work here when posted). Struggle to get outside regularly? Get a Houseplant (will link houseplant post too) watch nature documentaries, find a way to connect to nature and it will find a way to connect to you.

Remember that YOU are a part nature. You are not an onlooker, you are not an outsider, YOU are a part of the ecosystem, apart of natural history and the complex beauty of evolution and change. YOU are an animal and you are so much more similar to the foxes and bears and flies and butterflies than you think.

I hope this post has been helpful to some! Please feel free to add any of your own points/experiences or ask questions/suggest future posts!!

Praise Mother Nature 💚🌿🪲

[0tivez]

and there was only one sleeping bag

synopsis: you're sent on a mission with levi. once nighttime arrives, you realize you've forgotten your sleeping bag. will you be too proud and sleep on the ground in freezing cold or accept levi's offer to share the sleeping bag?

characters: levi

warnings: afab reader, tight space, unprotected sex, handjob (giving and receiving), mdni

wc: 2k

note: yes it's been literal years, yes it's out of nowhere. but tbh i needed this more than you guys probably will enjoy it. maybe not my best work but give this hag a chance, i haven't written ANYTHING in years. also yeah sorry about that.

<- navigation

you let the cold soil embrace your feet. you feel all your tiredness leave your body and flow into the ground, as the heat of the bonfire levi has set leave soft, familiar kisses on your bare face. it’s been a long day of riding around the forest for a preliminary investigation for titans before the expedition begins once more, hoping it’d decrease casualties. erwin has assigned his two best soldiers for a daytime exploration, levi and you. you should have been back to the main camp by now, but two 15 meters had other plans. if only you weren’t caught by surprise, it would be child’s play, but you were. eliminating smaller threats, you were ready to return back when two fuckers appeared out of nowhere and attacked you. thankfully, you had managed to survive with minimal damage. as much as you wished you could travel back during the night when it’s the safest, you were too worn out to continue without some rest. so, you planned to rest for a few hours before heading back while it was still dark.

levi was wandering around the forest to look for dry branches while you let the heat relax your muscles. you hear levi coming back with a bunch of wood in his arms.

“we should have been on the move. i should feed you to any titans we’ll see tomorrow.” he nags. his tone is always serious, yet so un-intimidating to you. you stop taking his threats seriously when you receive them everyday.

“aah, you probably won’t have a hard time. i probably taste better than you anyway” you respond. levi clicks his tongue in response, you can feel his face go sour without even looking at him.

“we should sleep. the fire should scare wild animals away.”

“no night shifts? i thought you weren’t tired.”

levi scrunches his nose and furrows his brows. “i’m not going to spend four hours staring into the fire. i’ll try to sleep a little too.” you shake your shoulders in response.

levi turns around and approaches his horse as you take off your jacket and lay it on the ground. levi stands above you with a shocked face.

“what the hell are you doing?”

you look at him, confused. “making my bed.” only then you see the green bag in his hands. “what’s that?”

“it’s my sleeping bag, dumbass. where’s yours?” right, sleeping bag. the warm, cozy bag you sleep in. the one that’s resting in your tent back at the main camp.

levi sighs before you can even say a word. he hands the bag to you. “what kind of a soldier are you? take mine, i’ll sleep on the ground.”

you take offence immediately at levi’s mean remark. “it was supposed to be a daytime mission! i didn’t want to carry too much weight. and i don’t want your stupid bag. i’ll sleep on the ground.”

“tch. you’ll freeze to death. stop being annoying, take the bag.”

you throw the bag at him and turn your back against the bonfire and lay on the ground. levi’s not surprised at your stubbornness, he also knew you’d be shivering before he even fell asleep.

and you did.

levi saw your body trembling on the ground, he knew you’d be too proud to admit being wrong.

“just come here. sleeping together will make us both warmer.”

you humph and get up. levi has unzipped his bag and opened it to let you in. only then you realize, he’s half naked. you only see his pale skin and chiseled abs before turning around and letting a tiny scream out in shock.

“what the hell, you perv? why the fuck are you naked?”

levi sighs. “to increase heat circulation inside. you should take off your clothes if you want to get warmer too.”

“the hell? i’m not getting undressed you freak!”

“god, i won’t look. stop being annoying and get inside or i’ll just sleep here by myself.”

you stomp your feet on the ground in annoyance and quickly unbutton your shirt and get rid of your pants. you find levi with his eyes closed waiting for you to enter his bed. so you do. you snuggle inside the bag and zip it.

your cold back gets in contact with levi’s warm, bare chest. the space is too tight for things to not be erotic. it’s just, undeniable. you can feel every curve of his abs on your back, and you can’t help but notice how perfectly your ass is positioned in front of his bulge. you’re sure levi is aware of it too, but tries not to show it.

the awkwardness only increases once you and levi realize that his arm’s stationed in a weird position. he mumbles something you can’t make out and drops his arm down. his right arm is now wrapped around your waist. the sudden touch of his skin on your waist sends shivers down your spine. all the blood rushes to your cheeks, you can’t help but feel aroused by this sudden situation.

you turn your head to glance at levi. to your surprise he’s not asleep, not even pretending to be asleep. he simply has his brows furrowed, looking directly onto your face. your eyes meet for a second, before both of you move as if on command, directly against each other.

levi’s hot lips press upon your shivering lips. levi sucks in all the coldness out of you. his kiss is enough to send shivers down your spine. you feel the heat rise from below, slowly creeping up your spine. levi’s hand that’s wrapped around your waist tightens its grip. he’s gently kneading the soft skin around your torso before crawling up on your chest. you try to breathe in between kisses. it feels like levi’s on a mission to choke you out with his lips. he shows his incredible stamina once more, he hasn’t broken the kiss for a moment, and you’re a breathless loser.

you hold levi’s hand on your body and guide it on your boobs and under your bra, allowing him inside somewhere you never thought you would. levi’s fingertips play around your nipples as he bites your lower lip, sending too many signals to your body all at once. you free your right hand and grab levi’s face, pushing it further into yours. levi’s hand explores all over your breasts; kneading them and tracing around them as if he was trying to picture it in his mind. and god, you don’t even know how much levi wishes he could bury his face on your chest right now. because he can’t suckle on your nipple, he compensates with your soft lips instead. he sucks on your lower lip that has gotten wet and slippery from his sloppy kisses. he tugs, bites, and sucks on your lips. he’s too drunk on you to realize how much your soft moans have aroused him, he’s too focused on pleasuring himself with your lips.

you can feel his erection grow bigger on your back, fighting for you to play with it. you trace your hand down his body from behind your back down to his underwear. you play around the edge of his boxers as he continues to mark your lips. it’s the first time you hear him moan once you slip your hand inside his boxers and palm his erection. you let his cock fill your cold hands. his dick pulsates on your hand with the sudden touch of coldness. you can feel his eagerness, and how much he was offended at how easily you made him moan. you got a glimpse of his sly smirk on his face before he quickly sent his hand down your underwear as well. you rub his cock up and down as he takes his slender fingers down your wet folds. he nuzzles on your neck and sucks on the soft spot right down your jaw. he puts his wet fingers on your clit and starts circling around it, teasing you to beg for more. you don’t beg nor response, only let your fingers continue rubbing his cock. except this time, you let your fingers wait a little longer on his tip, which you figured out was his sensitive spot once he moaned with your first touch. levi instinctively bites your neck in frustration, and accepts his defeat. he starts applying pressure on your clit before rubbing circles on it. you feel the numbing pleasure wash over you.

it doesn’t take longer than seconds before levi whispers “fuck it” with a raspy and furious voice. he frees his throbbing dick and quickly moves your panties to the side. his pebbled sweat drops on your naked shoulder, yet it doesn’t bother you. you were now gasping for the cold air that once almost killed you.

levi lets out a low moan as he enters his tip. the tight space gives you very little room to move around, you have nothing else to do other than take it, take him. levi slips his cock inside with a swift motion without trouble. his masterful fingers have already prepared your hole for him. levi sighs out of relief and lets your warm, wet cunt welcome him. he enjoys the sight of you squirming next to him, waiting desperately for you to move. your eyes are shut close, eyes filled with tears, forehead covered in sweat, and lips agape with lust. he takes the sight in.

he thrusts his hips in the confined space. even though his movements are limited, he hits the spot too well. you scream in pleasure, so much that levi is almost scared he hurt you. he hastily moves again before you moan “more, levi, please” that drives him mad. he pushes his hips steadily, every move so powerful and effective. he pushes his thumb on your clit and starts playing with it. bolts of shock travel through your body, the pleasure almost too unbearable. his cock stretches your walls every time he enters you. your soft skin slaps against his balls with every thrust, the mumbled slapping sound echoing through the silent forest. the only other noise that fills the void is your desperate moans that call for his name. “levi, levi, levi…” his name never sounded better.

levi once again locks his lips with yours. he’s working all around you. your body is locked with his, you are under his control fully. his unreal stamina weakens you. you grow weaker as he continues to drill into you. you make sure to stay conscious enough to savor his low moans on your lips, a mission too hard for you at this moment.

your body is at its breaking point, and levi knows it. he knows you’re close, but he won’t let you cum until he’s ready too. he can feel your body as if it was his, or at least you think. he measures every movement; it’s almost like he can also feel when you’re close because that’s when he breaks his pace. that’s when the numbing feel in your chest dies down a little, only a little before levi picks it up again. he plays around with your body. he chases after you, he tries to catch up to you.

“levi, please” you beg him, and the sight of you drives him to the edge. you lay beneath him, face turned against him, your nails digging on his biceps to control yourself, cheeks wet from tears and sweat. you almost look like a painting, so beautiful and delicate.

levi doesn’t hold himself back as he made you do. he lets you clench around his cock with all your power before breaking apart under him. he empties himself inside you with a low moan that harmonizes with yours. you both crumble under the lustful touch of the other, fingers traveling around your bodies still.

your body finally falls limp. you’re gasping for air, almost as if you had just left a battle. levi releases hot breaths on your skin as his head falls on your neck. his soft lips touch your neck as he speaks again in a low and ordering voice as usual.

“i might have to reconsider feeding you to the titans.”

i missed levi so much i love him so much aot is still the most goated anime of all time ong and levi HHRRRAGAGGGHHH WOOF WOOF BARK BARK

[fashionteahouse]

secret - paul x reader

AN: many people asked for a part two to the first part. hope you all enjoy :)

first part

Paul took up all of your mind. You walked the branches as the owls hooted from a distance.

He didn’t come. You felt deep disappointment.

Walking slowly back to the Cullen household, you gasp a bit at him sitting on the steps. He wore a shirt and shorts this time. You look down. He had on shoes.

You float to him as he stood up.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You say in a small voice.

He continued to stare at you.

“Can I..Hug you?” You asked barely above a whisper.

He opened his arms.

You step into his embrace and relish in his touch. He felt like a campfire on a cold night. He smelled like the rain.

“You sniffing me?” You hear him ask.

You smile a bit, “Yes.”

He pulls back but doesn’t take his arms off from around you.

“What do I smell like to you?”

“Like the rain..It’s my favorite smell.” You admit.

He hummed a response.

“Come inside.” You say to him and take his hand.

He walks in, comfortably. You bit back a smile as he went into the kitchen.

He closed the fridge with a smack.

“We don’t have human food, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, I see that.” he frowned.

“Are you hungry? I can take you out.”

“You trying to take me on a date, already?”

You bubble out a laugh that he thought was cute.

“Yeah. It’s to thank you for sparing me.” You say. He brings out a handsome smile that made you stare in awe.

You guide him to the garage as you walk towards the vehicle that was yours. He whistled as he checked it out.

“Do you want to drive?” You ask. You smile at the light in his eyes as he nodded.

He drove with great ease.

“Do you think I could visit where you live?”

“No.” He says. You wait for him to say why, but he doesn’t. You don't ask.

It was a diner in Port Angeles. You found out that he ate a lot.

“If you weren’t so pretty, I would’ve found it creepy how you’re watching me eat.”

You look down with a chuckle.

“You think I’m pretty?” You ask softly with a hand resting on your cheek.

“Yeah. I’m sure you’ve heard it time and time again.”

“Yeah but….It’s different that it’s coming from a guy like you…”

He swallowed his bite.

“What’s a guy like me?”

“You’re very cute…I think about you a lot…I wish I could dream so that I could visit you.”

The smile he gave you on his face made you feel excited.

He hands you your keys back as you two were in the parking lot.

“I can drive you home. It’s not a problem.”

“Your kind isn’t allowed where I live.” he tells you. You felt a deep pit of disappointment once again.

He turns and you say a desperate, “Wait!“

He faces you, waiting for you to speak.

“When can I see you again?” You ask sadly. The thought of him not seeing you again felt like a knife.

He stepped forward as he plants a quick kiss on the side of your lips. He stared at you as he pulled back. He expected it to feel cool but he didn’t expect it to feel so nice. His tongue licked the bottom of his lip and he was able to taste the residue of you. He found his favourite taste. It was his guilty pleasure.

You look up at him with eagerness as you step closer to him.

You didn’t smell like the other cold ones that he had came across time and time again. You didn’t smell like strong stinky bleach that burned his nostrils. You didn’t make him recoil.

You smelled sweet but not sickly sweet.

You smelled like the times he would enter the candy store as a kid. He wished that he could bottle your smell.

You brushed your lips against his and you both took in the contrast. His hot lips warmed up the cool body temperate that you possessed.

You opened your eyes and he was gone. You clutch your keys as you slowly started the engine.

Lounging on your couch in your room, you kept replaying the kiss with Paul over and over again.

You didn't see him the next day. You felt deeply sad. You felt like a part of you was missing. You often touched your lips to see if he would appear. You whispered his name to see if he would magically appear.

You ran the woods and you hunted. The meaty animal that you sucked dry didn't bring you enjoyment. You found yourself coming to a realisation.

You missed Paul.

You camped out at your window to see if he would come when the night came.

He didn't.

It's been a full week since the kiss. Since you last saw him.

Daylight broke through and you hear the front door close. You sniffed the air and you zipped down the stairs.

"What are you doing here?" you ask with your arms crossed.

"Came to see if you were still alive...It smells funny in here."

"You smell funny." you shot back.

Edward only chuckled.

"I thought it was too dangerous for you to be here?" you ask.

"Bella doesn't know that I'm here and Im keeping it that way. I came to ease Alice's worries of your spotty future and now I'm leaving."

"Thank the lord." you say as you dramatically display prayer hands to the sky.

Edward smothered his entire hand on your face and you swat it away with a frown as he chortled. He was gone.

You were alone.

The night had fell.

In the middle of rereading a book, a knock sounded out. You close the book and rise to your feet.

You open the door.

Paul.

He had shorts and shoes on, but no shirt.

He lifted your chin up to meet his eyes.

"Up here."

You chuckle nervously.

"Am I allowed to come in?"

"Depends." you say as you crossed your arms.

"I didn't see you because I had my own stuff going on."

"Hm." you say.

He shifted on his feet, not letting up his stare at you.

"You're lucky you are cute." you grumble and move to the side to let him in. He smiled but it quickly retracted. He brought a hand to his nose before shaking his head.

"Ugh."

"What?"

"It fucking stinks." he says.

You look down.

He planted a soft smooch on your cheek. It made you smile warmly.

"Not you...Someone else has been here."

"Yeah. My brother, Edward."

“He fucking stinks.” He tells you. You bust out a laugh.

You take his hand and caress the back of his hand.

“I missed you.” you murmur to him.

His eyes softened.

“You did?”

You nod.

He cradled the side of your face with his hand. He leaned in and you reach his lips as you both fell into synchronicity.

You couldn’t help but bring him to you as you both held each other. He was strong. Feelings that you thought were impossible to feel, were bubbled out as you sigh out in contentment.

You felt dazed when you both separated so that he could breathe.

“Did you get a bed for me, yet?” He asked as his lip trailed to your neck.

“No.” You stutter, “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“You’ll see me again.”

“Okay. I’ll get one for you for when you come over.”

He stared at you and the look made you stop breathing. You didn't have to, but he was so pleasant to look at.

"Does this tv work?" he asked as he flopped on the couch. The television was huge in his eyes and he grabbed the remote.

"It will if you turn it on." you tease and sit next to him.

"Very funny." he says snd you smile a bit as the television clicks on.

He put an arm around you to bring you closer.

"Why are you so stiff?"

"Im just...Nervous I guess." you admit.

"Well, relax." he tells you. You lean into his hold and you almost melt. You felt so warm. He was like your personal heater. The heat wasn't unbearable. It felt like you were on vacation. You hoped that it would be like this forever.

taglist:

@awkwardnesshabitat

@originalpersonafanwobbler

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere

@capswife

[wayward-engineer]

A group of hooded figures watch from high in the trees as a lone lamb picks flowers from the forest floor below.

"Something's off..." An opossum shifts in his perch on a branch. "The crown, where is it?"

The badger on the branch next to him flashes a manic smile from underneath his black hood. "That's the thing! They lost it! They're vulnerable. Grendal, you and me, we can be the ones to finally kill them."

Grendal fidgets nervously with the pick he grips in his hands. "The way I've heard it, they've fought gods Flitch. You think we can take that?"

The badger next to him scoffs, rolling his eyes at a cowardly opossum. "Please. All the power they've ever had, it all came from their fake god. Can a fake god stand up to the might of the bishops?"

Grendal shrinks down into his arms, "Well... no...".

"Exactly. And guess what, they don't even have their fake god's power anymore!" Flitch grabs his compatriot by the wrists, and shakes them, as though he could wring the cowardice out. "They've lost the crown. They're nothing now. Just a little lamb, waiting for slaughter."

"Right," Grendal gives the signal to the others waiting in the tree tops "just a lamb"

Half a dozen warriors drop to the ground below, armed to the teeth with picks, knives and magic of the old faith. The lamb is outmatched and outnumbered, all on their lonesome carrying nothing more than a basket of flowers, and a bag slung over their shoulder.

They hardly seem surprised by their sudden appearance. Stopping in their path, they simply stand there; hands folded in front of them, quiet and relaxed, waiting patiently.

"Just a lamb. Just another sacrifice."

---

Grendal gapes in horror at the carnage around him. Corpses cut to pieces and burned bodies surround The Lamb, blood dripping down the steel of their blade as they stare at him expectantly.

It had all happened so fast; the violence, the killing. He believed himself to be an expert, but how many times has The Lamb danced this dance? Dozens, hundreds of times? How foolish was he to think he could fight that?

Shakey hands raise his pick at the lamb. They don't react. They don't need to. What threat could one fool pose to such an efficient killer?

There is a long, agonizing moment where neither of them move, each staring at the other, waiting for their next move. Eventually, The Lamb begins to step toward the terrified heretic.

Grendal drops his blade, falling prostrate before his target. "Please, spare me! I was wrong! I shouldn't have come after you!"

He hears the sound of hooves on dirt as they approach him, and flinches as they kick his weapon away. "Please..." he sobs "I'm sorry."

Gently, a bundle of flowers and two rolls of bandages are placed before him. "Your friend, the badger, he still breathes." They motion to a body leaning against a tree at the far end of the clearing. "Clean and apply pressure to the wound. Grind the flowers into a paste and lather it on the cut when the bleeding slows. It will stave off infection and help with clotting."

They rise from where they crouched before their assailant. "Work quick, and you should be able to save him."

"...why?" Grendal cautiously brings his eyes to meet The Lamb's. "Why not just kill us?"

Their mouth turns down, and eyes droop to the forest floor. "Because I never wanted to in the first place."

[seraphinitegames]

I just wanted to pop in and give the side characters a small appreciation comment.

The Tina/Verda choice of who finds out about the supernatural is always such a hard one for me. On one hand I feel like it’s better for Verda in the long run considering everything that comes from it for him.

Yet I love Tina and her reaction to it so much especially if the detective is a friendly sort - “While (MC)’s taking care of everyone else… who is taking care of them?” I was crying for about a week after this. Tina is my ride or die.

Oh, I'm having such fun beginning to bring in the branch stories for these two routes, hehe!

Tina and Verda certainly have some...interesting times ahead, depending on who you chose and how their story is developing!

Thank you so much for showing love for these characters! <3

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 33

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- like and rb 🤍 I KNOW yall hate me with these cliffhangers, but you know I loveeee to see y’all suffer lol.

Billie’s POV

I let her get it all out. I held her for a while, soothing her cries, trying to come up with solutions.

I pulled away from our embrace, wiping her tears away. I fixed her hair, brushing it behind her ears, the way I always used to do.

I took her hands in mine, looking into her eyes. “I want you to come with me on tour.”

She furrowed her brows, shaking her head. I knew she would say no. “I can’t, Billie.”

I nodded, “You can. I’m not leaving without you.”

She shook her head again, pulling her hands away from mine.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, do you hear me?” I raised my brows at her, my voice firm. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time.

“I can’t, I need to find another job, Billie. I still need to pay my bills somehow.” She sighed, “I wish I could.”

“You’ll work for me! I can get you a job in two seconds, Remy.”

She thought about it. She spaced out, looking through the little window by her bed, as the tree branches scratched up against it. The rain pitter-pattered on the glass, the clouds blocking the sunset from glowing into the room.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

She tilted her head at me, “I don’t know…”

“Please, I want you to! I need a new photographer anyway. I know you’d get the best photos.” I begged her.

“We’ll see. Maybe just until I find another job. I’ll start applying.” She sighed, rubbing her tired eyes.

I pulled her back into my chest, swaying from side to side. I smiled big, knowing she’d be safe with me, at least for the next few months.

The next few hours went by without notice. I had finally calmed her down enough to get her to take a hot shower, while I ordered some food. I took it upon myself to tidy up around her apartment and do a load of laundry, making sure she had nothing to clean for the rest of the week.

Once the food arrived, I stood in the kitchen, placing food from the to-go containers onto two plates, purposely giving her the bigger portion.

“Remy we gotta do something about it. We have to report that to HR or something.

“HR doesn’t care, Billie, HR worships the ground they walk on. They won’t care. Besides, they’ll black list me and I’ll never get a job for a company that big again.”

I sigh, not wanting to push her to do anything she isn’t comfortable doing.

“Have some food, you haven’t eaten all day.” I sat next to her, handing her a plate.

After eating, we go to her room, cozying up under the covers, like we used to do, all the time.

We binge watch our show, letting the time go by in silence. Every once in a while, I glance over at her to make sure she’s okay. Her eyes followed the screen, occasionally licking her lips to keep them moist, or yawning and curling her toes.

After some time, I notice her starting to space out, looking past the tv, completely in thought. I watch her, seeing her fingers begin to pick at each other again, her restless mind keeping her occupied.

No one in the world has ever captivated me more than her. She’s breathtaking, especially when she doesn’t know anyone’s looking. The slope of her nose, so delicately sculpted, the faint freckles splattered over its bridge. Her lashes were long, clashing with her bottom ones as she blinked.

“What’s on your mind.” I turned slightly towards her.

I admired her eyes as she shifted her gaze towards me. She bit the inside of her lip, still in a daze. I gave her a soft smile as she looked in my eyes too.

She adjusted the pillow under her neck, snapping back into reality. She shook her head softly, “I just can’t believe my life right now. I feel like I can’t catch a break. I’m so fucked.”

“No, you’re not. Remy, it’s all gonna be okay. I promise.” My voice was slow and soft, anything to keep her calm.

She sighed, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know how I’m going to pay for all these expenses. This place, my car, I have no insurance now… I should’ve thought this through.” I could see her brain turning at a million miles per hour.

“Don’t do that to yourself, Remy. There’s no point. What’s done is done. It was for the best.” I comforted her, “I’m so proud of you. You know that?”

She blinked, tears dripping down her face again, my progress unraveling before me.

“Rem… Hey, don’t torture yourself.” I brushed her hair behind her ears again, making sure her long curtain bangs stayed put too. I missed doing that so much.

“Everything is going to be fine. I promise you, you’ll be fine. We’ll do this together, you don’t have to deal with it alone, Rem.” I assured her, knowing she’d have a hard time accepting my help.

“I don’t even think I have enough saved up for it all.” She sniffled, frustrated to be crying again.

I had finally fought off her tears and given her ibuprofen for her raging headache. I hated to see her so upset. “Look at me. Try to take a breath. Listen…”

She tried to wipe her tears, mad that they weren’t stopping.

“I’m gonna take care of whatever you can’t handle yourself. I’d take care of all of it, if you let me, but something tells me you won’t.” I wiped away her tears for her.

“Even then, I’d pay you back even if I had to work the rest of my life.” She shook her head, “It’s too much. I can’t let you do that. Especially not now. I’ve been the worse friend, Billie. I know how much I’ve hurt you. If only you knew how awful I feel, knowing I almost lost you.”

“Stop that. C’mere.” I rolled her toward me, letting her melt into my arms. “I was a shitty friend too. We’re even.” I sighed as she cried into my arms again.

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the background chatter of the television.

“I’m here for you. That’s what best friends are for.” I nuzzled her face into my neck, brushing her hair out with my hands. She threw her leg over me, like she always used to do.

“I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you so much.” She sniffled, between sobs.

“I got you, Remy, I got you. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe now.”

She laid in my arms as I took my fingertips and softly scratched up and down her back, tracing little shapes into her skin, until I felt goosebumps form. I ran my fingers all the way up her spine, and down to her back dimples.

Her breathing slowed and steadied, letting me know she was asleep. I didn’t want to move, not even an inch. My heart was satisfied, finally feeling her at peace. I just wanted her to rest.

I’ll let her fall into a deep sleep, then I’ll take off and drive home, I thought.

Just 20 more minutes and I’ll leave.

I have to get home soon….

I close my eyes, and suddenly, we’re back in time. Back to a time when sleepovers were a regular occurrence. When we’d spend hours inside her room just laughing, talking, singing, doing anything at all. I felt so safe, so comfortable, so warm...

[h0ll0wt0wn]

The Following takes place some time during those that don't see it

Lazari is not in this.

Good luck

Through Hollow Heart and Crimson eyes

Through crumpled lungs and fading lies

The trees will tower, the shadow will follow

And all it grants is a chance to wallow

You know that you can never stop

If you ever do, it will snatch you up

But the dark was always a quiet plane

If it caught you here, could you bear the pain?

But I promise you that up ahead

A house, a hill, a tower, a bed

A talk, a teacher, a comrade, a friend

Not the end of the forest, but a dim lit den

I promise you not a life without fear

Nor a cure to yourself or the dream you hold dear

but a moment in time where the branches can clear

Let's wander together

Keep Going. I'm Here.

______________________________________________________________

ENTRY RED: WHERE IN THE WORLD

A Hollowtown/Redredhat crossover comic

Likely canon to neither story

unless...

Redredhat by @vluisasantiago

It's always 8 pages...

______________________________________________________________

So for those of you who only follow me for creepypasta content and stuffs you might be confused. Uhhhh Redredhat is my like second favorite Slenderverse series (First being Marble Hornets) of all time. It has been a massive inspiration to me and was a big part of how I was able to stay motivated to create Hollowtown.

Sometimes there's art out there that makes other artists wanna just like... create. So I was super hyped in that one entry where she got to feature all the... actually just watch Redredhat the whole thing is on youtube for free

And that inspired me to wanna create a crossover with hollowtown. I know that I do more creepypasta than Slenderverse but like... we both share custody over slenderman... yeah? I can do this... totally

I really really really really wanted to.

I dipped into a few crossovers before with my Laziverse posts and Hollows Obscured

@frutigerangel and @arkstray WATCH REDREDHAT IT'S SUPER GOOD I SWEAR

but seeing as Redredhat is part of the all inviting slenderverse, a barely cohesive multiverse of creativity, I wanted to try creating a more... plausible type of crossover between the two since it could potentially be canon. it's be a little weird to see a drawn version of Carmen interacting with a little demon girl or... Jeffrey

So I decided to feature an OC in this story. One that is very VERY important to the grand of Lazari's story, so people who only follow me for Lazari and creepypasta don't go passing this one up. This is one of the more important things I made regarding Hollowtown

This was also me testing the waters for how I want Hollowtown to look. You could technically call this the first entry in the series.

Think of this like a sneak peak as to what the full series will be like. The obscure creepypasta and slenderverse references, the visuals, the formatting, the art style, the themes, the tidbit of worldbuilding,

Despite not having Lazari in this, this is by far the most Hollowtown thing I've posted so far

And that's important

because Hollowtown won't just be an IEPFB reboot

that's just the keel of this massive behemoth of a story

It's going to include elements from all manner of creepypasta, slenderverse, and even some analog horror in this.

Hollowtown is coming soon guys. The first entries should be out no later than June 30th

[slmcclsgirl]

PREVIEW- MY DARLING GIRL P2.

I feel bad that this hasn't come out almost two weeks later, so here's a short preview.

DDDNE. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

stalker! Charlie slimecicle x afab reader.

Hi sweetheart, good morning, if you don't want to know what your pretty insides look like, go to these coordinates, midnight. Bring only yourself. I’ll know if you have anything with you.’ Was the text you woke up to that morning.

Charlie watched you on the hidden camera, the tears streaming down your pretty face. He knew it wouldn't be easy for you to cope with how your new life would be. “Don't cry my darling girl.. It’ll be clear to you soon..” he said out loud, comforting you through a screen. 

He watched you all day. Shakily going to your classes, telling your friends at school that you loved them, hugging them extra tight. Charlie almost felt sad that you had to say goodbye, but he knew it was for your benefit. He already had a plan for what to do when you missed them. He had made fake “leak” texts, shit talking you behind your back. Your naive ass would believe it too.. He went down to the basement, where you’d be staying the rest of your life. He made sure every nook and cranny was spotless.. The bathroom had all your favorite products. He put in a whole effort to keep you happy. That's all he really wanted, after all. He triple checked his new cameras down in the basement, and made sure it looked absolutely perfect. He grabbed two syringes of sedative, and got in his car, ready to finally go get you. .. You watched the clock. You didn't want to do this, but what other choice did you have? If it was a harmless prank, nothing would come of it, but the bone chilling feeling of being watched ate at you alive. The survival instincts in you told you to run away, leave the state, and never come back.. But you knew that wasn't an option. You thought about your friends.. Family, even though they could suck sometimes.. You still cared for them. You’d go to hell and back to protect them, even if they wronged you. You searched up the coordinates in your phone, and they led about a half a mile into the woods behind where you lived. You grabbed a pocket knife, slipping it into your long sleeve. There’s no way this person could have seen that.. Right?

Wrong. 

You heard your phone ding.

‘You're smart my darling girl, leave the pocketknife on the table.’ Your hands shook out of fear, sliding the pocketknife out of your sleeve.

Another painful ding.

‘That's it, good girl’ You shivered, and left the knife on the table.

It would take you a good 10-15 minutes to walk to the coordinates. You grabbed a jacket, and a flashlight, as it was only the moon that would guide you out there. Slipping the jacket on, you tried to control yourself, remembering you knew how to defend yourself with a punch, kicks.. All that. You slipped out the back door, feeling the cold air along your face, you turned on your flashlight. Despite your mind screaming at you not to do this.. Your legs moved, frantically shining the flashlight everywhere, looking for anything or anyone. About five minutes in, you heard a branch snap. You screamed and your blood ran cold. Slowly panning the light over, all you saw was a deer. “Keep it together, wow.” you said to yourself, watching the deer run off. .. Charlie was hiding behind a tree, waiting for his moment to start his little introduction.. He heard the rustle of leaves, just around 12. You saw that you were at the coordinates he sent. The clock was exactly midnight, just as the anonymous number asked. “Well, well, well” charlie said, still behind a tree. 

let me know chat, thoughts? predictions? things arent looking too good for our reader..

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 4) Chapter Sixteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Sixteen: One Hell of a Wood

Summary: The Phantomhive lord and servants venture into Germany and a strange wood.

            “I…am…plea-pleased to-to…meet you…”

            (Y/N) lifted a gloved hand to smother a chuckle at Ciel’s terrible German.

            “That will never do,” said Sebastian. “You are stressing the wrong syllables.”

            Ciel groaned and flopped over on his train. “I give up. Reading on the train makes me sick.”

            “You simply lack discipline,” sighed Sebastian.

            “German pronunciation is impossible,” huffed Ciel. “Being able to read it is enough.”

            “You won’t get far with that attitude,” remarked (Y/N).

            Ciel scowled.

l

            On the outskirts of Nuremberg, Ciel, (Y/N), and Sebastian attempted to buy passage to the Werewolves’ Forest. Unfortunately, two obstacles stood in their way. First, the strong dialect prevented Ciel was understanding a thing. Second, no one wanted to go near the cursed land.

            “Sebastian, what language are they speaking?” said Ciel, looking around at the people.

            “East Franconian. It is a southern German dialect,” said Sebastian.

            “The dialect is too strong! My studies were practically useless!” cried Ciel.

            “The fundamentals are important,” said (Y/N), smirking.

            Ciel grumbled. “What is he saying?”

            (Y/N) listened to the cart driver. “He is saying, ‘I ain’t gonna go bite it from the Witch’s Curse. No thanks. Dun matter how much you got. No’s a no.’ ”

            An irk mark appeared on Ciel’s forehead as (Y/N) mimicked the accent. “Has he seen an accursed human?”

            “Have you seen one of these cursed humans?” asked Sebastian.

            “I sure did!” said the driver. “They looked somethin’ awful. Their faces were swollen to twice their normal size. And their skin looked like it’d melted into a thick mud. One died right off. The other lived, but word has it he went nuts from the shock.”

            “The other survived?” said (Y/N).

            “Ja,” was the answer. “He was all shook up with fear and kept screamin’, ‘The Wolfman’s Coming!’ ”

            “So where is he now?” inquired Sebastian.

            “He’s the eldest son of the Briegel family, rich folk who live on the outskirts of this village, but he’s gone now. The government came ‘n took him away to some big hospital in case whatever he had caught could spread, and they took the dead ‘un, too.”

            “So?” said Ciel.

            “There was a survivor,” said (Y/N). “But he continued to claim a wolfman was coming, and the government ultimately took him away.” Likely, the survivor was dead by now.

            “So he’s seen the wolfman?” said Ciel, narrowing his eyes.

            “Would you like to attempt to find him?” said Sebastian. He exchanged a look with (Y/N). He, too, suspected that if the government took him and was refusing to share information that he was dead.

            “No need. There isn’t any point in speaking to a madman,” said Ciel. “We should go at once to this Werewolves’ Forest ourselves.”

            “However, the man refuses to take us in his carriage no matter how much we offer,” said Sebastian.

            Ciel smirked. “Then ask him how much the carriage costs.”

l

            “S-So this is the Werewolves’ Forest.” Mey-Rin shivered. “It’s creepy.”

            “Man, I get why people say it’s cursed,” said Baldroy, looking around at the dark trees and mist clinging to the branches. It blocked out the sun, bathing them in shadows.

            At the front of the cart, (Y/N) raised a brow. “The compass is beginning to drift.”

            Ciel tsked. “It may just be that mineral resources are buried around here.”

            Sebastian smirked. “It may just as easily be a cursed.”

            Ciel scoffed. “I can’t believe—”

            “It amuses me that you refuse to believe in curses when you have two demons as servants and have come eye-to-eye with Grim Reapers,” said Sebastian. “Moreover, that which binds you and I is also a curse of sorts.”

            Ciel crossed his arms. “However, witches were humans falsely accused at ridiculous trials. They didn’t fly in the sky or create storms.”

            (Y/N) hummed. “Young Master, I can assure you that witches do exist. Admittedly, most do not have that power, but there are always exceptions. Curses and magic are very much real.” They looked at him, and Ciel saw the look of fire in their eyes, and the memory of their cinematic record popped up. He swallowed. “Never forget that all manner of beings haunt the night.” They smiled with their eyes closed, and Ciel grimaced at the expression. “However, you are correct that most of the accusations were false. Humans enjoy punishing those who attempt to rise above their station.”

            Ciel swallowed as (Y/N) looked back forward, and he tried to speak casually again. “What are real witches like?” He may as well learn something. “Do they summon you to the witch’s sabbath and worship you?” He attempted his usual sarcastic remarks.

            “Summoning demons and worshipping them…” mused Sebastian. He chuckled. “I do not believe sabbaths were held for that purpose. They were times of social interaction for depraved adults who wished to escape reality by sinking into debauchery.” He smirked at (Y/N). “Would you say that I’m correct?”

            “For some,” said (Y/N). “But those are the ones that seek the darkness for the sake of darkness. Sacrificing people, offering souls up to demons in exchange for their desires.” They tsked. “Those are the marks of people who wish to hold magic but have no natural ability for it. They use the moniker, but they practice the one aspect of it you should not—sacrifice. Using another for your own profit is a trade that cannot be properly made. Only one’s own sacrifice assists magic for ones own benefit.”

            Ciel seemed frozen for a moment. “What do you mean?”

            “Magic respects balance. If you give to it, it gives to you. However, if you attempt to give something of another to it without their willingness, it will instead respond to that other. Even if you profit in the moment, the cost will catch you,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian glanced at his darling. He was ever-so-curious to see what their magic practices had been. He saw them use demonic magic at times, but to see them in their old element with the practices that had brought them to him as a demon…Sebastian was ever-so-curious. (And he was hoping the practices of some witches being naked during some spell work was true. Imagining magic curling around him and (Y/N) in a moment of intimacy was a tempting thought).

            (Y/N) smiled. “So, Young Master, should you decide to pursue magic, keep that in mind.”

            Ciel grimaced. He had no wish to do so. He’d seen enough sacrifice to know he would never make the mistake (Y/N) described.

            “My Lord,” said Sebastian, pausing the horses and looked through the woods. “Please, see for yourself. There are buildings over there.”

            Ciel furrowed his brow at the town cloaked in mist as Sebastian directed the cart towards it. The entire place was silent although it was daytime still. Sebastian and (Y/N) got down, and Sebastian guided Ciel down.

            “So there really was a village in this forest,” said Ciel, looking around. “No one’s around.” He frowned as they walked farther into the town. “Is it abandoned?”

            “No,” said Sebastian. “The houses have been kept up. I’m certain people do live here.”

            “Hey!” called Finny. “Is anybody—”

            The doors of every building opened violently. “Intruders!” shouted German voices. “Everybody, come out and fight!”

            Sebastian and (Y/N) shifted as women with pitchforks, rakes, axes, and other makeshift weapons emerged with angry expressions. Strangely enough, they all wore old German clothing, nowhere near modern. Several centuries old, in fact. Mey-Rin’s eyes widened, Finny jumped back, and Ciel narrowed his eyes.

            “Talk about a warm welcome,” said Baldroy.

            (Y/N)’s eyes went to the amulets around each of the women’s necks. They were identical with little inscriptions of runes a circle. (Y/N) furrowed their brow. None of the sigils were familiar. The alphabet was, but the actual combinations seemed to be gibberish. A German variation of magic? Perhaps new runes? It has been some centuries. However, the clothes are not modern, and the story of the witches said they have been here for several centuries. Furthermore, none of the women had emerged with any herbs, hex bags, or objects to perform magic. (Y/N)’s suspicions remained stubbornly within them.

            “Who are you bastards?!” shouted one woman. “How did you find your way here?!”

            “Tell them we would like to speak to their lord,” said Ciel.

            “Yes, sir,” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) decided to watch with amusement how that would go over. Witches could be men or women or anything in between, but they were a more matriarchal society than patriarchal. If there was a lord here, (Y/N) would be impressed. Still, they were going to be amused and learn something helpful, so they let Sebastian speak.

            “We mean no harm,” said Sebastian. “We beg audience with your liege lord.”

            “What? Our liege?” said the woman leading the pack, her eyes narrowing.

            “Could they be targeting the honorable Sullivan?” murmured the other women.

            “Sullivan?” said Sebastian, raising a brow.

            “What are they—”

            “Quiet!” The woman cut Ciel off. “You villains must be betrayers!”

            “Betrayers? We’re not!” assured Finny nervously. His history as an experiment subject to a German scientist showed itself in his pronunciation.

            “We will spare none of your ilk!” said the women. “Don’t let them escape alive! Death to betrayers! Death to betrayers!”

            “What is the meaning of this?!” said a new, authoritative, young voice.

            “The honorable Sullivan!” gasped the women in surprise. Instantly, they bowed.

            The woman in charge spoke politely, “We apologize for letting intruders enter the village!”

            Sebastian raised a brow, and (Y/N) tilted their head. “Are you the honorable Sullivan, the liege lord?” asked Sebastian.

            “Indeed.” Carried by a tough German man, a young woman—(Y/N) would scarcely think her above thirteen at the very oldest—spoke. She was small, dressed in green finery. “I am Sieglinde Sullivan. Liege of this Forest!”

            Interesting, thought (Y/N). A child is in charge? That was hardly a standard choice for covens. They were too young, too unpracticed in magic. Yes, they could be powerful, but the lack of control that came with age and the need to protect children from being targets of those that hurt witches made it a terrible choice. Further evidence for (Y/N)’s theory, as far as they were concerned.

            The man holding Sieglinde walked closer to the group, and Sebastian watched him calmly. Abruptly, the man nearly growled and leaned in violently.

            “And form whence do you hail, peon?!” he said, the threat of violence in his voice.

            How uncouth, thought (Y/N).

            “Enough, Wolfram,” said Sieglinde, hitting him on the head so he’d straighten. “Excuse us. It has been quite some time since we last had visitors in the village.”

            “I don’t know how you managed to reach us, but here in our village of Wolfsschlucht outsiders are not welcome to stay.” Wolfram glared at (Y/N), and they raised a brow, putting their hands on their hips in a dare. Wolfram swallowed and coughed as their attractiveness settled in. “You-You must go back to where you came from!”

            “Best to retreat and consider alternative approaches, I think,” whispered Ciel.

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian. He was more than happy to do that to get Wolfram’s eyes off his (Y/N). He turned them with him towards the road. “Very well. Then we will take our l—”

            “Wait!” said the women, lifting their weapons and blocking their exit.

            “You and your party don’t seem to understand how fortunate you are to have passed through the forest unscathed,” said Wolfram.

            “What do you mean?” said (Y/N), already knowing the answer but fishing to see what information would be given.

            Wolfram took the bait. “Surely you must have heard the tales about the noble wolfman who protects the forest!”

            Sebastian smirked. “Then this is indeed the witches’ village under the protection of the wolfman. Is that right?”

            Wolfram was silent, hesitant to speak again.

            “Herr Wolfram, these people are dangerous!” shouted a village woman. “We must finish them off at once—”

            “Wait!” declared Sieglinde. She whispered into Wolfram’s ear, and (Y/N) and Sebastian exchanged a look of interest as they overheard. Interesting.

            “My Lady, that is—”

            “Do you refuse to do as I bid?” said Sieglinde, irked.

            “…Ja,” said Wolfram, capitulating. “Listen well. If you head back into the forest now, darkness will fall before you make it out.  The forest at night is far too perilous a place. Safe passage through the forest a second time cannot be guaranteed. No, you’ll never be able to leave its confines again. So…we will make an exception and permit you all to stay the night.”

            Shock ran through everyone, newcomers and villagers alike.

            “We can provide beds for tonight,” informed Wolfram, obeying his lady’s requests. “But come the very break of dawn—”

            “Herr Wolfram!” said the woman with the brazen, in-charge attitude “How could you invite strangers to the Emerald Castle?!”

            “Hilde,” said Wolfram. “It is as my lady wills.” Hilde gritted her teeth.

            “What’s happening?” asked Ciel.

            “We are being permitted to stay at the liege’s resident for the night,” said Sebastian.

            “That is my lady’s Emerald Castle.” Wolfram pointed up at a dark castle looming over the village. “Follow me.”

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@iamsexytrash

@oceansfloor

@sarkzjam

@temporarilyablog

@elaemae

@urlocalsabito

@roo024

@ittomain1

@whereismymonsterlover

@alythewolf

@serinity750

@cloberrii

@kniselle

@ray-rook

@yappydoo

@kitkatlover015

@snowy-violet

@jaguarthecat

@burning-harmony

@pain-in-the-ashe

@urlocalsabito

[arminreindl]

Well I suppose it in part depends on what pseudosuchians you want to take on specifically, given that its an enormous clade. I sadly do have to agree that, at least far as I'm aware, there isn't that much written about them in book form (if anyone knows better do let me know). Nesbitt's would be a start tho of course highly academic. Minor tangent I almost aquired it at a silent auction, but ultimately ended up focusing on a different book towards the end (I might be mistaken but I think Bob Nicholls ended up snatching it once all was done). If you're looking for something closer to home there is "King of the Crocodylians" by David R. Schwimmer which is written more accessibly, but of course some 20 years behind some aspects of Deinosuchus research (still worth a read imo). As for researchers, there is actually quite a few, but again its gonna depend very much on which branch you wanna focus on. Christopher Brochu is somewhat of an icon in the field I'd say, Phillip D. Mannion is a frequent sight in my experience, Jonathan P. Rio, Jeremy E. Martin, Masaya Iijima, Stephanie Drumheller, Massimo Delfino; Andre Pinheiro and Diego Pol for notosuchians alongside many others (South America is very heavy on that, Brazil and Argentina especially), Mark T. Young and Sven Sachs I often encounter when looking at thalattosuchian literature, Jeff Martz I think has done a lot on Triassic American pseudosuchians (think Chinle), I'd be remissed if I didn't give a shout out to Adam Yates and of course Jorgo Ristevski, tho a very recent contributor to the field, who has been knocking it out of the park with his research on mekosuchines. And really these are just a handfull of those that I most frequently come across in my own endevours (and that I could think of from the top of my head). There is many many more. Hell, Evon Hekkala is another great one, easily best known for her work with Voay she held a fascinating talk in London two years ago on how she got mixed up with croc research during her career.

Rest assured tho that if you specialise in crocs your efforts will not be in vain. It is true that dinosaurs get more mainstream attention, but the amount of research published on pseudosuchians should not be underestimated and there is still plenty of open questions itching to be looked into.

Probably a silly question but I want to specialize in pseudosuchians after I finish my paleobiology degree. I literally cannot find any books on just pseudosuchians, nor do I see many people in this expertise for a field. Is it really that slim? I know dinosaurs have the limelight but it makes me kinda feel as if my research won't matter or be of any use?

so I don't specialize in pseudosuchians, but the pickings are indeed slim. All the books I can think of off the top of my head are extremely academic, like Nesbitt's book. I recommend asking someone who specializes in croc-line archosaurs, such as @arminreindl

[el-buzz]

📚 Cg! Clay HCS!!! 💚🎶

Aggagaggaggag first hc list I do EVERRR (so please be kind (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) /💗💗)

Cg! Clay x Agere! Reader!!

pretty much gender neutral!!

Cw: caps lock (just me having happy outbursts), um lotsa author notes and commentary I just wanna talk about him and about how he would be as a cg :ccc, also this is incredibly self indulgent

Also there was no proof reading ☠️

(Crossposted on ao3 @Soft_Buzz!! oh and I’ll update this if I get a new hc idea)

Anyways here you go 💚:

•nicknames for you: kiddo, baby, bubba, bubba wubba (he’s squeezing your cheeks and baby talking you 😭😭), prince/princess/ lil highness/royal, and a number of other sweet nicknames or any that you prefer!

•he would be suuuuuch a sweet and doting caregiver waaaaaaah but he would definitely ensue rules for you! Calm and Strict(ish) cg! Clay would pull up to make sure you are safe and healthy even if you are feeling big!!

•he’d hate to see you hurt or sick, but he’d do everything thing in his power to nurse you back to health :]!

•Clay would definitely provide his kiddo with healthy snack or with fruit or veggie cups!

•Although Clay’s sorta strict he can be soooo soft he always want to hold you, whether it’s your hand/pinkie or cuddle up with you.

•You are his battery and he wants to recharge.

* HE WOULD SOOOO READ TO YOUUUU AHHH he loooooves reading so ofc he’d love to share that interest with his little one

• (please it’s the cutest thing ever)

• imagine him beside you with a book open (he has his reading glasses on :3) and as he reads, he gives all the different characters different voices and will always put emotion into his reading voice, which always leads to you giggling or you gasping in surprise.

• One time you insisted that you were big enough for his sad book club and that you wouldn’t become a big puddle of tears so he gave you Charlotte’s Web to read.

• You were a mess. You didn’t stop being sad for the next couple of HOURS (yes this is a reference to that JD fan art ifykyk☠️)

• Clay had to give you so many hugs, cuddles, and kisses to make up for it. He thought it’d be funny, but he sorta forgot how emotional of a little one you can be.

• “I’m so so sorry baby.” *kiss* “How can I make it up to you?? I’ll do anything”

• oh you’d grin a that. You choose to either do dress up WITH make up or draw on his face and mess around with his hair. AND ice cream.

• You took soooo many pictures (and you may or may have not shared them with Viva, Poppy, and his brothers) Clay says he hates you for it, but secretly believes it was so worth it to see that sparkle in your eyes

• he bought you a piggy and a spider (with little bb spiders) stuffie. Even if you have arachnophobia, you hugged those stuffies while crying happy tears. You gave him a tight hug which he softly returned and gave you a forehead kiss.

• (This whole event was also the birth of your happy scrapbook club!! (even though it just you :} ) )

• You and Clay will just sit together while reading different things. Him with some well recognized and praised novel or book and you with a happy lil scrapbook in your hands!

• I’d also like to think he has a puppet character like Bandit does with unicorse! (Maybe a dragon but that just me :])

• (Clay and Branch be matching with their ventriloquism skills lol)

• If you seem to be clumsy or fall often he starts to develop a sort of spider sense for it and will catch you before disaster happens

• OKOK I know this is gonna sound random buuuut I believe Clay is the type to carry lollipops, and sometimes other candy, around. Idk like I can just picture him a with a lollipop in his mouth trying to look all serious/mysterious and nonchalant LOL

• ANYWAYS back to the Agere stuff

• I think that after completing a task or being good, Clay would def give his kiddo a lollipop as a treat!! that orrrrr if his kiddo seems to be regressing in public and they really want/need a paci or just something to fixate on then boom!!! Lollipop! :D

• Talking about rewards

• This man would sooooo spoil you!! you’re his treasure and he wants you to know it!!

• He’ll either get you food you’ve been craving or a stuffed animal/little gear orrrr both!!

• (Because of the two of you, you now have a chest fuuuull of stuffies Woops💧)

• You always try to show your appreciation by giving him small handmade gifts!! A lil pop up card, bead bracelets (you definitely have matching bracelets), even something crocheted/knitted, and pretty much any arts n crafts you can make!

• Now onto funny business ( •̀ - • )!

• so ofc when it first came to having fun and being playful with you he was bit scared

• can you blame him???

• He’d spent A LOT of time trying to get rid/away from the tittle of being the fun boy

• Ofc through lot of reassurance you let him know that he can have fun and play with you and still be a very serious caregiver!

• you help him understand that being funny and silly every once in a while doesn’t hurt and that he should try to find a balance that work for him! Which he eventually does :D!!

• I like to believe that he’d be great at playing pretend and hide and seek!

• “Worry not your highness!! You will protect you from the dragon!” (It’s one of your plushies)

• “Wherever could my kiddo be?? They must have turned invisible!!” (he can hear your giggles which just makes his smile wider)

• Although he really tries to be there for you, he’s a reaaaally busy man :((( but he still tries to spend time with you through parallel play! While he’s doing his grown up paperwork, you get to colooor!! (or draw or scrapbook or anything really) as long you promise to be good and not distract him

• (plus the sooner he’s done the sooner he can give you all his attention! so it’s a win-win situation :D)

• Actually if you were feeling extra lil you’d just get a paper and scribble on it with crayon trying to copy Clay’s mannerisms (when he sees this he’s physically holding himself back from just picking you up, cradling you, and just babying you waaaah you’re gonna be the end of him)

• oh and he would sooo keep your little artworks in his working area (they bring a sweet smile to his face and warm his soul you’re the best kiddo he could have ever asked for)

• You also get to have cuddles while he works! Sometimes he’ll just sit you on his lap with a stuffie or two while he wraps an arm around you and litters your head or face with kisses!

• Now onto not so funny business ૮๑ˊᯅˋ๑ა

• sometimes Clay’ll have a rough or tiring day :((

* and that’s okk caregivers have their moments too!

• He’ll usually want to cuddle with you and hold you close. (You are his stuffie :D)

• He might even tickle you or blow raspberries on your tummy (if you give him permission ofc!!) which often leaves you with a giggling and squirming fit.

• He just loves seeing you laugh and smile (especially if it’s him who made you happy :] you just brighten his day so much sometimes)

• One time he was just so tired and just laying down on the couch and then you brought one stuffie to him and then two till you pretty much had him buried under almost all of your stuffies!!

* You then proceeded to lay on top of him, and Clay just sticks both arms out from under the pile while smiling softly with his eyes closed.

• Let’s just say you guys woke up with stuffed animals scattered eeeeeverywhere

• If you’re a kiddo/baby who tends to get overwhelmed easily, he’ll get you some noise canceling/dampening headphones and just wraps you in a soft blanket like a little burrito.

• He’ll also either get you an eye mask or will lower the lights if he can. (And if you’re feeling lil enough then a paci too!!)

• After doing any of this, he’ll just bring you onto his lap and whisper sweet lil nothings to you till you feel better or seem to fall asleep :D!

• would enforce a bed time >:( (he is a very very veeeery serious guy after all)

• but luckily bedtime means a bottle or sippy of sweet sleepy tea and a storyyyy :D!!

• Forehead kisses!! (CALL ME BIASED CAUSE I LOOOOOVE FOREHEAD KISSES but I stand by what I say.

• Oh and if he’s ever gonna to be very busy for the day and he won’t be able to take care of his kiddo, he’d ask Viva to help him take care of you!!

• Plus who doesn’t love babysitter Viva??? She’s so energetic and fun with you, but she’ll definitely tone it down for you 💛

• she’s also super strong so she’ll definitely carry you or give you a piggy back ride if you ask :>!

• She also give you lots of candies and sugary foods but shhhhh don’t tell Clay itsa secret (but I think the sugar rush/crash you have when he picks you up from Viva’s tells him more than enough

• (I feel like he would trust all his brothers with you (especially Bruce) except JD 😭😭)

• He would sooooo grab your cheeks and squeeze them like he did to Branch when first seeing him again

• Expect him to do that whenever he just wants to dote on you and baby you even if you’re feeling bigger than usual he just loves youuuu! 💚💚💚

In summary: I need this man bc he is the bestest boyfriend and caregiver ever!!

Final notes!:

I love likes but comments and reposts are greatly appreciate (I love to talk if you can’t tell) type something out and let me know what you think 💗💗

If anybody would like to use any of the hcs/scenarios for a fanfic tots fine with me just don’t forget to tag me for credit and so I can see it :DD!!

[blackvahana]

i am really never going to understand why people post "shifting antis dni" in the astral projection tag. "here practice that constantly gets appropriated by us and used as a weird justification for a new set of beliefs that aren't really based in the same reality you work with, and that also gets completely misunderstood by our community because we don't care to understand what you do and just pretend we know it's what we do like christians saying other religions worship the christian god, have a post! Also dni if you don't like our practice that has nothing to do with the one whose tag we just shoved this into"

if you're not astral projecting don't put shit in the ap tag. if you don't even know the difference between AP and RS I dont think your opinion holds enough weight to counter the pushback against flooding a separate practice's tag with "if you dont like the practice I'm talking about in your tags dni"

[theabstruseone]

I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:

Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.

The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.

The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.

The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.

Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.

The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.

Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".

He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.

This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.

Edit to add further developments:

Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.

Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.

The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.

The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.

The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.

TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).

This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".

This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")

X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.

Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.

The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.

One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.

Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.

[be-xkyy]

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑁𝑎𝑔𝑎

Warning: sexual content, aphrodisiac, breeding kink, eggs, kidnapped, biting (twice), possessive, dirty talk, two cocks, big cocks, calls you "human" and "little human".

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Masterlist

Yandere Naga who used to live in the forest like a king (no. not really) until he was captured and brought to a nature reserve.

Yandere Naga who doesn't like humans at all, always lets out threatening hisses and tries to attack the caretakers who enter his territory to leave him food or clean up his messes.

Yandere Naga who had already planned creative ways to get rid of his new caretaker (just like he did with the last ones) but what he doesn't expect is that it would be such a cute and delicious thing.

Yandere Naga who stares at you when you enter his territory to clean the place and leave him food, he narrows his yellow eyes, his pupils contract into thin slits and sticks out his forked tongue to taste the air —your smell... you smell delicioussss... like a mate...

Yandere Naga who from that day on stares at you every time you enter his territory lying on his rock, his eyes follow all your movements, he acts docile around you without hissing at you or trying to attack you, which causes the other caretakers to congratulate you for achieving the impossible, for making him adapt to you so quickly...

Yandere Naga who manages to identify at what moment you have your fertile cycles and creates a plan to make you his partner and mother of his offspring, he only needs to catch you off guard when you enter his cage for your daily chores, he must act when the other caretakers are not around.

Yandere Naga who can execute his plan with relative ease thanks to the fact that he became more "tame" that made everyone around lower their guard including you, one day when you enter his cage to clean he slides towards you quickly and wraps his tail around you tightly sliding quickly into the interior of his cave.

He drops you onto a nest made of branches, leaves and what look like old blankets, a clear attempt to make the place more comfortable, without giving you time to analyze what's happening he slides towards you, getting between your legs, his scales brushing the fabric of your pants and he sticks out his forked tongue sniffing the air before speaking.

"Your delicious rubber... like ripe fruit, I want to take a good bite out of you..."

"Wait! Wait! You can't do this! The other caretakers will notice that I'm not there, they'll come looking for me and when they find me they'll take me outside, they'll punish you if you do anything to me!"

Your voice tries to be firm but it's clearly shaky, he looks at you with his yellow eyes that narrow a little at your words, he hisses leaning over you until his face is right in front of yours, your breaths mix and he stares into your eyes without blinking, his words make your blood run cold.

"I will kill anyone who dares to come here to try to take you away from me. I will crush them until their bones break and their eyes pop out of their sockets, you are mine human~"

He hisses softly when your warm hands rest on his cold chest trying to push him away from you in a panic, he smiles at your fighting attitude and although I wish I could see more of that attitude unfortunately you are right that the other caretakers will start looking for you when they notice your absence so he must be fast, he grabs your head firmly tilting your neck to the side he opens his mouth and leans down sinking his sharp fangs into your soft neck making you let out a moan, he uses the aphrodisiac in his venom to make me more submissive and to make your body go crazy.

"What did you do..? Are you going to kill me..?"

"What?! Kill you?! Of course not! It's an aphrodisiac, it won't kill you, it will just make your body loosen up so it can receive my cocks, silly human~"

He smiles playfully as his venom quickly takes effect, he can feel your body heat skyrocketing, he sticks out his forked tongue which writhes as he smells your excitement permeating the air in the cave, he sees you writhing beneath him clearly uncomfortable and in pain from the effect of the aphrodisiac, he coos at you as he proceeds to quickly remove that ugly and rough uniform you're wearing and does the same with your underwear, his eyes studying your flushed naked body.

"Such a pretty human~ you smell so fertile I can't wait to lay my eggs inside you~"

"It hurts... please–"

He smiles as you can only whimper shakily, he rubs your dripping cunt his slender fingers tracing circles on your wet bud delighting in the way you shudder and your breathing becomes more labored, willing to not waste any more valuable time his scales seem to part and two terrifyingly large cocks reveal themselves making you shudder despite your daze but he chuckles as he takes one of his cocks in his hand bringing it closer to your swollen cunt.

"Don't be afraid human, your body was made to receive my cocks, you will enjoy it~"

He lets out a deep hiss as he slides his fat cock into your pussy, fascinated by the warmth of your insides that embraces him deliciously. You, on the other hand, are left breathless as you feel his cock stretching your poor walls as far as it will go, making its way into your channel, and the sensation is a confusing mix of pain and pleasure that makes you want to cry. He hits bottom and you feel his cock deep inside your uterus while his other cock rests on your stomach, staining it with precum.

"You feel so warm human~ I've never felt anything like this with any woman of my kind, I knew you and I were destined~"

He hisses and without giving you time to think he starts to thrust into you over and over again he pulls out his cock leaving just the tip inside before thrusting into your pussy again with a hard thrust, the sound of his thrusts and your moans fill the cave echoing off the walls, your pussy squirts on his cock and you feel dizzy at the delicious sensation his cock gives you, his scales scrape your thighs but that only adds to the overwhelming pleasure, his cock hits your cervix over and over again without slowing down or showing mercy, you're reaching the top when suddenly he stops making you let out a pitiful moan but he silences you with a playful hiss.

"Don't worry human you'll reach your climax~ but first I have to fit both of my cocks inside you~"

He laughs as you just let out a pathetic "uh..?" too fucked out to think, he pulls his cock out of your tight pussy leaving just the tip before guiding his other cock inside, both of his members slowly entering your pussy making you arch your back and let out a high pitched cry, you feel as if an arm is being shoved into your battered pussy, he senses your discomfort so he begins to rub tight circles on your mound trying to relax you, when he bottoms out your eyes roll back in your head, he takes a moment before he begins to slowly move as your walls squeeze him so hard.

"You're too tight on me— I'll give you some more of my venom to relax you human, that'll help us out a lot"

He wastes no time in leaning down to your neck biting just above the mark of his other bite, he injects you with a larger amount of aphrodisiac poison than before which causes the effect to be instantaneous, he feels your walls loosen little by little and your juices begin to drip making a mess and then you can't help but smile as he begins to move again, his cocks ram into you mercilessly he grabs your hips to hold you better while he listens to the high pitched moans that escape from your open mouth the erotic sight makes him move faster.

"That's it~ you take me so well little human~ keep it up~"

He praises you even though he's not sure you're listening to anything he's saying, he still keeps moving non-stop admiring the bulge that forms in your stomach every time he thrusts into you, his heads hitting your bruised cervix over and over again feeling himself getting closer to the limit he can feel you getting closer too by the way your pussy tightens on his cocks, he can feel your walls throbbing and a few seconds later you cum your juices dripping down wetting his cocks and scales, your pussy tightens him like a vice which takes him to the limit he gives you a few erratic thrusts until he cums inside you deep inside your pussy.

"Yessss~ very good little human~ take my eggs!~ keep my offspring inside this womb and give me beautiful children~"

Your nails dig into his arms when you feel something round the size of a tennis ball slide from one of his cocks into your uterus that stretches painfully to receive it, eggs. You sob when another egg follows the same path and another, another, another. You lose count of how many eggs he lays inside you, you can't do anything but receive them, when he finishes laying eggs his other cock fills you with sperm, you stay like that for a while when he pulls out you are sore, tired and uncomfortably full, your belly is so big it seems like you are nine months pregnant, he wipes the tears from your cheeks and kisses your lips looking into your eyes.

"Don't cry little human, you did very well I'm very proud of you. I put all my eggs in your womb and fertilized them I'm sure all of them will gestate without any problem... in a few months you'll be a mother, but for now sleep little human, I'll be here when you wake up~"

Exhausted and unable to do anything else you obey, you close your eyes and let Morpheus' arms wrap around you, he watches with adoration as your chest rises and falls gently, he decides to lie down next to you, he pulls you to his firm chest and wraps his tail around you protectively enjoying your body heat, the tip of his tail caresses your swollen belly and he murmurs in a dark voice.

"I will protect you and our young with my life, I will kill anyone who tries to take you away from me or tries to hurt any of you, it's a promise my little human~♡."