#{ I will try not to but if you open the flood gates I apologize in advance lol }

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ FLUIDITY

tw. dubcon, monsterfucking, explicit size kink, interspecies sex, reader has sex pollen like effects, communication barrier, manipulation, yandere (other parts will contain a lot more explicit dark kinks so please read every individual part's warnings!) wordcount. 8.7k

part 1 of —

a/n. ♡♡ thank you so much rhi for keeping me going through this, idk if i would have pushed through if not for you so ily ily ily and this fic is just indulgence as a period piece and a monsterfucking fic but i hope you give it a chance and like it bc there's moresomes a-coming and this is just the beginning so! yeA i hope you guys enjoy mwuah mwuah mwuah ♡♡

tachibana makoto x fem!reader ( x other characters coming)

Dragonflies glint the prettiest, richest silver you’ve ever seen under the right light. The rosy evening sun casts the entire river into a blooming glow— complete with a soft blanket of fog that rolls along the base of the trees. “Your maiden servants worry about you, you know,” a voice softly calls, and the rustle of shrubbery makes you turn.

You don’t really want to know how long the man’s been guarding you without a word. If it were anyone but one of your father’s most trusted men, you’d probably have some distrust. Instead you only pull your knees to your chest, and continue tossing rocks into the babbling brook.

“Lady, it’ll get dark soon. Your parents don’t want you playing out here so late.”

The small area isn’t open enough to lure any visitors. You’d be fine. Still, you slowly bob your head, waiting for him to step away from the tree edge into the river bank with you. “I had a weird dream, only it didn’t feel like a dream.” The reeds sway in the wind, and you almost let the perfect surrounding whisk away the thought. But the man’s hand drops from his sword, and he gives the faintest of nods. “There was a monster here when I fell asleep— one with a huge mouth packed full of teeth. I saw eyes in the water, and hair so long it covered its whole body.” The tart remnants of your delicately applied makeup wash away as you swallow. “I think- it was a yokai.”

“There’s no yokai here, lady,” he patiently responds, and you turn to him better. This time taking a proper look. If the damp hair tied in a bun is anything to go off of, he was most likely called out of his bath to come out looking for you. You bite your lip, apology lingering on your tongue. But that’s where it stays, as the man continues. “There’s monsters only where people don’t go. You needn’t worry.”

“Are you comforting me?” A slight giggle passes your lips before you can help it. “I know you think I’m lying. You don’t believe anything you don’t see with your own eyes.”

“... It’s not for a lack of trying.” He smooths a hand over his hakama, before resting it back on the pristine handle of his sword. The dragonflies buzz over the low edge of the water, and your feet ache a little from the cold. You’d love to ask to be carried right about now, but spare the poor man the effort. It’s the least you can do. After another few minutes of silence and watching the sun disappear entirely below the tree line, he finally clears his voice. “Come on, lady. We should really get back. You’re precious to your parents. You’re precious to us all. I can’t leave you here.”

This river runs from the high mountains all the way through the small lake that borders the gates of your home; and all the way down the lowlands— and it’s said that on the day of your birth the river flooded, and provided the most bountiful harvest of the last few decades. Even as a child, there was no ignoring the gleeful whispering of the ladies, nor the calculated introductions of sons of poorer lords at every birthday or feast. Some day not too long from now you will get married and spread providence over the land… and there won’t be time for napping by rivers or running off half-dressed into the forest.

Somehow, despite the honor, a small part of you goes cold at that. The water glistens under the last of the light— and you take a long look into the deep of it. The eyes the color of hot coals flash through your mind once more, and you start pulling the fabrics of your dresses aside to put your zori back on. “I know it was a monster- but-” The wind picks up when you turn over your shoulder and smile your most genuine smile. “I wasn’t scared, I think. Perhaps it was friendly.”

The guard is quiet as he watches you get up from the riverbank, and sticks a comfortable distance after helping you gently up onto your feet. You suppose he doesn’t really have the heart, or perhaps confidence, to tell you what he really thinks of your childish talk. The barely-there path back to your home has you growing much more tired— as if weights are tied to your legs. You wish you could stay. The moss crunches softly under your feet, and the dewy air starts to feel a bit cold to the touch. Despite everything, it’s always peaceful here. You cast a brief glance up to the man as he pushes the shrubbery aside. His face has a vacant sort of look, until he catches you looking, and his mouth curls up. “I’ll tell your maiden servants to prepare a purifying ritual for you.”

“Ugh, no, please. Anything but that.”

+

“The koi fish aren’t around anymore, are they, lady?” There’s a slight hesitation in her voice as your maid walks up.

You nod, lift your sleeves to brush your fingers through the water and wait. You got them as a present for your coming of age festivities— the most beautiful blue grey with red fins— much too expensive for your liking but a courting gift nonetheless. You’d been quite fond of the walks out of your houses’ walls because of them. The feed floats sadly on the surface of the inlet, where the clear river water shows no sign at all of the normally curious animals. “It seems like they’ve gone.” What a shame.

Your other maiden scans the area, before rushing to help you up onto your feet as she lowers her head. “Should we ask the master to procure some more? We know feeding the fish brings you much joy.”

The girl helps to fix your sleeves again, before awaiting your call. “No, that’s quite alright. There’s no use replacing a gift.” You cast a wary glance at the bay once more, not quite sure what you’re looking for; but fail to find anything out of the ordinary. A sight furrow comes to your brow, before you hike up your layers of skirts- much to the shock of your two servants- and turn to them with a softer smile. “I would like to be alone for a bit—”

“Lady!” one of them squeaks, but you only laugh.

“I am certain, Hitsu. Tell my father I will be home before tea and dinner, and if you could prepare my bath…” The dark brunette has a question on her tongue, but does nod with the same trained properness that you’ve come to know. “I simply wish to walk along the river, I won’t swim. It’ll be quick, I promise.” It’s not a lie. You have no intention of ruining your beautiful, expensive clothing by going any further than a shallow few steps. But there’s a nagging memory somewhere in the back of your mind— 

You used to have so many dreams, all of them now too faint to recall. Both young ladies give each other a look, before eventually bowing deeply and heading back towards the palace gates.

See, that nagging sense that you’re forgetting something important, something crucial, overcomes you. It’s almost impossible to ignore, and you kick off your shoes to tread carefully along the edge of the deep pool of fresh spring water. The moss is soft under your feet, keeping a tight grip on your embroidered silks.

When you were only a few years old, you used to have these dreams. Dreams of drowning, of ghouls and demons. They grew scarcer the older you got, and eventually even the weekly purification spells and chants became declared unnecessary. But where the memories once sat, now only a blank hole remains in your mind. And however hard you try to remember, you can never quite get there. You make it to the sloped edge of the river not much later, stepping up the small sputtering waterfall and a few round stones between stray bamboo— nearly still water pooling at your feet.

It’s chilly, but not freezing. Something scratches in the back of your skull, deep down. It trickles down your neck, and with a steady heartbeat, it breathes.

But you can’t catch the thought, and the harder you try, the cloudier it becomes— eventually you click your tongue and start walking along the water edge up stream. You should look for your fish. If they swam out of the inlet somehow, maybe they’d be around. They are, much like you are, bred for captivity and wouldn’t survive too long on their own. The sun casts warm spring rays onto your skin, walking in much needed solitude. When you barely realize you’ve spaced out, you’ve already made it to a bend in the river where peach blossoms float on the otherwise pristine surface of the water— and despite your previous care, you drop your dress.

The blossoms swirl in slow circles. And a raindrop lands on your nose. 

Arms, wrapped tight around your chest. Claws. Wide lashless eyes.

Something floods your brain so suddenly that you stumble back a few steps and gasp, sucking in a breath.

It was here. You can’t exactly make out what, but your gut recognizes the trees, the scraggly stones sticking out of the water. Your lungs full of water, and hands all over.

Bumps rise all over your back as you look around, and water seeps up along your tarikubi robe. It’s so quiet, and the stillness starts to trouble with each droplet that comes down. But you breathe. You’ve been here, perhaps more than once, and the aching, pressing itch deep in your head grows more unbearable. When a metallic flicker catches your eyes, you glance down. The rain now starts up more properly, and though the trees provide some shelter, there’s no hiding away from the cold as you walk in just deep enough to bend and pick up a dainty golden chain from between the smooth rocks.

It’s fine like thread, and cold to the touch, and though you can’t quite explain it; something about this finely crafted piece is familiar too. Even through the rain and the chills crawling all the way up your spine, you study the necklace closer. The intricate detail is almost too pristine.

A soft splash on the other side of the river startles you— The sudden scare makes you lose your balance and fall back onto your lower end. Hard. The ache immediately has you whimpering, but instead of worrying about the pain, you slowly try to catch yourself on the rocks; pained enough in the motion that you swear — you see a person diving underneath the water edge. Something pale and fast. You scream, and whatever you saw dashes away before you can think about doing different. The blossoms drift off as you scramble back up; your bruised palms sting, and your heartbeat still hammers hard in your throat when the silence returns.

But the blurry flash of maroon hair and fiery red eyes you caught is long gone.

And much too soon, the clouds that had seemed so fluffy and beautiful earlier turn a dreary grey. You turn on your heel and book it back down the river side on bare feet— still clamping the chain between your fingers.

+

The wick of your lantern splutters with thick oil as you fail to catch sleep. Even with the spring weather it’s chilly, with you remaining wrapped under a thick blanket. You breathe a long sigh, and listen to the crackling of the candle beside your bed in the absence of any other sound. The earlier lecture of your father, your mother, and even the normally quiet and collected matron of the house still lingers on your mind— it’s not like you can blame anyone. You wouldn’t be the first stupid, brazen young girl who happened to drown, and despite the quiet lives most girls like you live, you most likely won’t be the last.

You shouldn’t have been out there. Your servants had been ghastly pale from fright upon seeing the state in which you returned, and even the thorough scrubbing and hours-long bath didn’t do much to alleviate the ache in your lower back.

Despite all that, you’re stuck. Eyes -monstrous, unnatural eyes- appear in the crevices of your mind each time you close your own. No amount of prayer makes the longing fade, and the longer you lay here, the deeper they seem to dig into your flesh. Goosebumps crawl all over your skin once more. When you throw your blankets off you, you go digging in one of the woven baskets for the thickest bland garments you’ve got— tying them around your hips until you’re dressed enough to peer out into the hall. The frigid air current howls through the house when you gather your lantern, some woven socks, and after a brief bit of deliberation; snatch the golden chain from beside your pillow.

The palace is quiet at night, an almost eerie sort of calm that is broken only by the soft ‘pats’ of your feet on the hardwood— with the lanterns barely providing enough light to see a good arms length at a time. The wind pushes you forward, nuzzling deeper into the collar of your clothing until you make it outside. Even under the starry sky, there’s no doubt that this is a stupid idea. No good can come from nightly outings — though you’ve seen girls come and go in similar ways under the cover of night, you’re quite sure their purpose was less out-for-trouble than you are now. But what else can you do?

How could you ever sleep soundly not knowing what’s out there.

With only the flickering reflection on the water, you bow before your home— you’d be back soon enough. You love your clan— and you have no intention of getting caught in long lectures twice in a night. The guards at the gates have no way of noticing you as you slip into the brush and cover the lamp from sight, as cold breaths form clouds before your eyes.

Your legs move almost instinctively until you come upon the peach tree, and the pretty white flowers rain down with the breeze. You place the candle by your feet; and hesitate before taking your own seat on a round rock right by the water edge. You’ve never seen a yokai. Not that you can remember at the very least, but if you would have-you didn’t expect to here. Not the river that blessed your birth, or the one who gives everyone life by way of harvest. Maybe what you saw was a farmer bathing, or a particularly pale, large cod— wouldn’t that make more sense. Isn’t that exactly why you didn’t tell your father?

Because naïvity and silly wonder seems better than monsters lurking among the shrub.

Sadly, but perhaps unsurprisingly, a soft splashing in the water sets every hair on your body upright— and your mouth goes dry. It’s so dark. So awfully dark that it’s hard to see even past your own feet, if not for the broken reflection of your candle in the water. You know it's there. You feel it, by the rancid sort of churning in your stomach, the rapid beating of your heart. You swallow the tightness in your throat as best you can. “I’ve come to return your necklace. I didn’t mean to steal it, so I’ve come to give it back.” You wish you could let your eyes grow used to the dark, but without candle light, it’d be so much harder to get back home in one piece.

After just the sounds of the river drag on, you slowly take another breath, and try to bite back the wetness that rises every time you try and fail to find the eyes you know are looking at you. “I don’t wish to harm anyone.” The wind seems to howl harder across the river, and you can’t fight the horrible visions of monsters all around you, just there in the darkness; tightening your hands into fists. “So I wish you would not harm me either. You can have it back.” Your hand shakes when you hold out the chain above the water— not nearly far enough for anything to reach it without coming into your sight. But you’re too frightened to go any deeper, and your lungs tighten.

“Please, I-”

The peaceful spluttering of the water is suddenly disrupted by a much louder splashing, and you freeze up with a sharp gasp, shoulders trembling despite yourself. You don’t dare move any more than that— only after a minute or so of silence, you continue. “Hello? Don’t you want your necklace back?”

The reeds shake in the wind, and one of the blossoms brushes along your cheek as it falls into your crouched lap. Your breathing is tense enough to almost hide the little mumble that reaches back. It’s soft, sweet like dripping honey, and makes your whole spine tingle. “We want.”

If you had any less sense, you’d probably run right back home. But the idea of moving is too terrifying, so you’re stuck rooted in place as you take a breath. The voice sounds young enough, but the Japanese is distinctly older than your own dialect, rolling off the tongue with a vague foreign lilt— and it takes your frightened brain a little longer than you want to process that the voice isn’t simply human. When another little splash sounds a bit closer, you pull your outstretched hand back to your chest. “Can you see me?” Your own voice wavers when trying to make out any shape in the river. Alas, it’s just so dark that any further effort hurts your eyes.

“Yes.”

“I’ve come to give back your necklace. I got scared and took it, I’m sorry. I mean no harm-”

“He told.” The voice is unbearably clear. Almost like it’s being spoken directly into your head, even though it’s just a mere whisper among the rippling water. It’s distracting, and feels ice cold between your ears.

“Who’s he?” you try, biting your lip. The river seems to stare back at you, and you can’t do anything but hope you aren’t making some horrible mistake. Are you supposed to talk to the monsters that go bump in the night? “I- I don’t know where you are, I can’t see you.” Despite the soft, gentle nature of the voice, your heart patters wildly, unable to let go of your fear when there’s another closer splash. You must only be a dozen feet away from each other now, and still you can’t even see past the water at your toes. The voice stays quiet for a while.

“You don’t see is … better.”

You don’t respond for even longer. But for whatever reason, you almost want to agree. Not seeing, he almost sounds like a childhood friend of yours. The soft, honeyed words aren’t so frightening when you can’t see what they’re being spoken by; and you gather your last bit of courage to softly open your palm out again towards the night. “I’ll throw it over to you. Can you catch it?”

“No ‘throw’.” The -whatever- struggles with the word as he says it, before going quiet. You’re not sure if he doesn’t want you to throw it, or he simply doesn’t understand— so you just bite your lip and wait for any further comments that eventually do follow. “You put paw- h-hand.” Then, after another breath, “Come.” With a slight tremble in your voice, you breathe out a little laugh. You are really being asked to be braver than any girl with sense would— dragging your lantern closer over the pebbles until it’s right by your feet. Cursing yourself, you blink back nervous tears, trembling as you hike up the edge of your skirts, just the tiniest bit, and place only one foot into the shallowest part of the river for stability.

Your hand drops halfway outstretched, and you watch the flame where she glints back on the chain.

More splashing makes way for a more disturbing sound once it surfaces, of a body dragging over the shallow of the river towards you, scraping along the blunt stones— and you almost dart away when the sound comes close enough to reach. But your fingertips are almost frozen solid when another hand comes ever faintly into view, and wetness drops into your palm. To call it a hand is gracious, you decide. There’s longer digits, clawed, and webbed between each bony finger, and the wet glossy skin is more curved spike than thumb. The paw slides carefully along your hand, swiping up the chain as it goes— and leaves a cold coating all over your palm that you snatch back too quickly.

It’s unbearable to stay so close to something and not see it now, and you quickly hurry back to the safety of your rock as the same shuffling goes back to the water. Your heartbeat’s in your throat, and you can’t find any polite words to offer it until the yokai speaks again.

“Rin present, with- no, f-for you. You give present back, make happy. I am thank you.” You’re welcome, you think, but you barely manage to paint on a little smile before wringing your hands together and picking your lantern back up for safekeeping.

“I’m heading home now. If I’m not back soon my guards will find out.” It doesn’t feel entirely appropriate to thank it for not killing you when it had ample chance to, so you stay quiet. But there’s also a sense of gratitude that washes over you. Soon you’ll be back in bed like all of this was a dream. That seems right. That seems good. Your tongue lingers on your words. “You … What's your name?” The river bank feels much safer now you’re back on solid ground, and you can see the peach blossoms you almost slipped on.

There’s another long pause, where you almost make a run for it back all the way home, before the voice sounds out again from the dark— sugary sweet in its tone.

“Makoto.”

+

You’re pretty sure you should be questioning your own sanity. Everyone else wouldn’t hesitate to, and after the few restless nights you’ve had, you should be staying as far away as you can. But curiosity, mixed with a slight sense of obligation, has you walking the river bank like a little droplet flowing back to the sea. The quiet, scruffy man following behind doesn’t say much… never does, and you can’t say you dislike it. But you feel the glances your way, distracting you. Soon you find yourself clearing your voice. “You’re wondering why I’m walking this same path again?”

The older man only hesitates for a moment. “No, lady.”

“Sure you are. I would wonder if I were you.” There’s a faint smile that makes its way up, glancing out over the babbling brook to your left as grass tickles your ankles. “Not too long now and I’ll be engaged…” The peach blossoms above are almost done blooming— and you’ve never known your father to be an indecisive man. “Walking gives me a little break from all the fussing attendants, and father's advisors. Which is why it’d be even better if I were alone-”

It doesn’t take much pushback at all for the man to stop in place and give you a little look, resting his hand on the handle of his sword. “Lady.”

“Oh, please Azuma-san, we’ve had this same conversation for years.”

“I am not to leave you unprotected-”

You turn on your heel to face him. “I want to swim.” The stubborn frown on his face doesn’t move an inch, as your eyes go a little more puppy-esque. You have to know, so you have to lie. It doesn’t bring you joy either, but you might go insane if you have to live with questions for the next twenty years barred in some fancy prison of your future husband’s making. “-Swim right here. Without my very expensive clothing getting ruined.” Still that stone wall refuses to budge, and you throw your last bit of dignity into the ring. If this was anyone else you’d never hear the end of your unrefined words. “So I am going to get undressed.”

“—Ag-lright, just quiet. Your servants hear you and I’ll be lynched in the square.” He sighs deeply, rubbing his hand over his scruff, then gives a little bow. He wants nothing more than to roll his eyes when you offer back a self-satisfied grin, but instead takes a few steps the way you came with a stern look. “I’ll ask one of your maiden servants to make her way over here.”

“Don’t tell her to hurry!” you chant back, only taking off the heaviest layer of clothing once he’s out of sight. You lay it safe out of reach, before kicking off your shoes and socks and waddling towards the big stones again. Sure enough, the river here is a lot deeper than it looks. There’s a ledge in the pool that’s dark enough for almost any kind of monster to hide. This at least means your midnight escape wasn’t a total delusion. The peaceful sway of water grass settles when you dip your toes in the water, and wonder. There’s only a brief few minutes where you sit to think, before a slight thrashing once again captures your attention.

Only when you look up, the river is still, safe for a few tiny fish jumping out of the water. You get up, and tie your skirts up higher to inspect. A large maroon shape darts away into the darkness before you can take a good look, splashing droplets all over the river bank— and you hold your breath. You aren’t crazy. That definitely was much larger than any fish you’ve ever seen, and such a brilliant color that nothing but yokai could possess it. Brighter than all the finest silks, shimmering like a mirror. You wait for what could be a few seconds or an hour, before… someone- something else starts coming up from the darkness.

The olive-golden glitter rises so slow you have no choice but to take in another breath, but luckily don’t scare it away. His light chestnut hair is chopped short-ish, and a strangely human face— with cloudy black eyes, and green gashes either side of his neck— where he hovers below the water surface. It’s not human though. The eyes are big, round and deer-like, nose flatter, and his skin seems almost pearlescent. You don’t have the ability to think if you’re brave or just frozen solid. But whatever the case, the humanesque monster seems to stare for quite a while before judging it safe enough to approach.

It’s only then that you get to see the full extent of his body, scaled from ribs down, with a snake-like bottom half that’s at least longer than your entire body, and ending in a beautiful fish-like tail that feathers out in glittering threads. “Oh…” you breathe, and your arms wrap around yourself for protection, but you still don’t move further. Can’t, more like.

The half-man is close enough -and real enough- to feel a bit nauseating. Close enough to set every hair on your body on end and have your heartbeat a wild patter. But it’s the voice that really makes you feel frigid, gulping for air when that soothing tone comes out of a monstrous mouth. Whatever you had expected to see… wasn’t this. You can’t make out if the near-resemblance is comforting, or more frightening. You shiver at the black tongue, against porcelain white teeth.

“You come back.”

Your nod is hesitant, and you fidget with your jewelry in an attempt to calm your nerves. “I- wanted to see who I’d been talking to, that night. I haven’t slept well since then.”

He hoists himself a little further out of the water onto both hands, clawed and boney. “That was you, right? Makoto?” The brunet only gives a single nod of response, and doesn’t take his dark eyes off you for a second. And you want to laugh, though it isn’t too funny. The scene is just so absurd that you have nothing else to do, but laugh. “Isn’t this weird, talking to each other? How come yokai speak Japanese?” your voice comes, and you only hear how childish you sound when it seems to hang over the river without answer.

Out of all the questions you can ask, that’s what is most important to you? Makoto is gracious as he scoots a little closer once again, scraping his long, heavily muscled tail up over the pebbles and stones. “I listen very many year. Always listen, listen woman, listen warrior, listen you.” He blinks, and blondish lashes are the only normality you have staring back at him. “All can’t speak like me. I -hmm, pras-”

“Practice?” you try, and he clearly agrees when his tail pats happily on the ground. When you smile, he grins back wide and kind, his teeth are much sharper than yours. There’s something so human about the look, that you feel your muscles unwind a little further. You suppose, if he wasn’t so strange looking, with the wrong shades and fins here and there; he’d be quite handsome. He’d go over well with the maiden servants in the clan, too. “Many years, huh? Then- How old are you?”

“Hmmm- old. Very…” He doesn’t seem it, though. You avert your eyes when the water flicks over your feet, slowly dropping your shoes to the side. When you look back, he’s gotten closer yet, and is reaching out his hand towards the edge of the water, towards you. Despite your hesitation, and slight disgust— scaly and seemingly frost bitten pale lips, and unnatural greenish marks along his neck that flare out and in— there’s something that makes you want to follow.

A call, or instinct, to glide into the water and feel it embrace you. “You want come in?” he prompts, softly, and you do. You aren’t much of a swimmer even in high summer, and yet. You find yourself closing the distance and reaching out for his hand, letting your fingertips glide along as you get up to your knees into the water, and then get pulled along further step by unsure step. “Good, come.”

“Ah- it’s cold!” you squeak, but Makoto’s fingers wrap around your hand to support you even when you get almost up to your chest into the river, water crawling up your clothing and making your chest feel tight. “Sh- it's so cold.”

“Water not cold. You warm.” Only when he comes up in front of you do you truly notice how much bigger he is. His hands dwarf yours, and even though you’re higher up, his tail is curved aside to fit on the ground so he stares down at you— covering the sun from your view. He towers over any man you’ve ever seen, and his human-esque top half is still much broader than most. Like a hard plane of muscle, marked with thousands of golden freckles that shift in color the longer you look.

Shivers climb up your legs, and the water seeps your energy out of you. Wrapping your free arm around yourself, you rub some heat into your skin. Those pale lashes flutter as he gives you a half lidded glance, and the freckles that also go across his cheeks color a little more amber. “Lady is … cute.” Large hands suddenly slide along your sides up, before dragging over your shoulders and slowly taking your clothing with it, removing one of a few layers as he leans in. “Here, better without.”

“Oh. No- I don’t- think-”

“Shhh. Better, I know,” he seems to get closer, even though you are too busy staring back into the darkness of his eyes to really notice; and let him untie the robes enough to toss it towards the water edge. Then he pauses, and gets up higher onto his coiled tail to pull another layer off and throw it. Until you’re left standing in only your flimsier linen undergarb, and you’re suddenly much too aware of how peaked your nipples are against the scratchy fabric. But his hands slide up along your thighs to start peeling that off too, when you grab for him and shake your head.

Makoto insists. “No cold when not -this.” His hands keep going up even with your pressure on them.

Having a night encounter with a man is one thing, but you don’t know how you’d ever explain this if someone saw. You can’t dart away in a flash and escape the consequences. You have to go home after this. “I need my clothes to go back—” you quickly beg, ignoring the soft pads of his fingers along your upper thighs, “and if people see- Makoto, please.” Your whole body aches with the cold, and though the touch feels nice, it doesn’t seem right. Your nakedness isn’t a simple thing, even if his is.

“Clothes heavy. Water don’t like clothes.” He turns you around and you lose your footing on the stable flooring, arms quickly clinging onto his wide shoulders for support— it does make his point. Your clothes are incredibly heavy soaked, and pull down on you as strong arms ever so slowly wrap around your waist; nose only a few inches from yours. You can’t help it, your face gets hot. Cheeks, ears, nose- everything starts getting a distracting warm glow that you do your best to ignore, pulling your lip between your teeth. Even so, he seems to look down at you with intrigue, water reflecting in the black of his eyes. “What?”

“You’re very close…” you confess, and also try to release some of the tightness of your embrace— but amusement only brings him closer. He tilts his head, before leaning in until your foreheads meet, and the cooler skin consumes you. “Makoto-sama-”

“Human kiss, hm?” He’s so close, and his mouth is right there -and though you have no clue why, you really want to. The thought is almost as real as the air you breathe, feeling his hands roam all over your body through the soaked linen. Your voice doesn’t make it out when you nod, but he still lifts you into his chest, and your fingertips dig into his shoulders instinctively. “Show me how to kiss? You little one -hmm- good- fit.” You can’t help it, in place of physical heat there’s a sort of aching fire that spreads through your limbs the longer you stay close— and once you start you can’t stop.

Your mouth meets his first, lips moving with yours as his arms squeeze tighter; but when your tongue brushes his lips and meets his, he makes a noise. A low sort of purring that rattles his chest, and has him leaning in harder, trying to bury you into his body as your tongues brush and you suck and moan. His taste is mild but his tongue is heavy, and much longer than yours when it slips further into your mouth. Much longer, bigger, and the wetness soon has you feeling like you can’t breathe.

You pull back with a gasp, staring at the way his long tongue brushes along those sharp teeth before he leans in more. “Again.” You try to make some separation between your two bodies, but clearly Makoto doesn’t care for it when he clamps his hand down around your hip and kisses you more, melting to you as his tongue brushes against yours. He kisses like you’re the first and last thing he’s tasted, even when you moan a little whimper at the lack of air. His cold skin prickles against yours, grinding his waist against you slowly as your head pounds. Still, it feels good.

You don’t ever want to leave— and it’s this exact feeling that has you pulling back for air. You must be out of your mind. He stares with a blown out sort of hunger when you say his name again, and run your fingers along his shoulders up a little. “I’m going to get in trouble if someone finds me here- and- it’s not like we can—” Your cheeks get even hotter when you try to say the words, not even sure if he’d understand. Does a yokai’s understanding include human nighttimes? When he shows no intention of putting you down, you bury your face into his chest, feeling even smaller than before.

Though his skin is cold to the touch, there’s an intense amount of heat surging between you two, almost impossible to ignore— and the way you’re positioned against him, large arms caging you against his waist that pushes into you— doesn’t help anything. You can feel yourself get more slick each time you move your legs. He seems to chuckle when you groan- and as if sensing your train of thought, he rubs his nose along your ear and down the sensitive of your neck with a lower voice. “I want see. Human body so little. Want see it.”

That’s the tipping point. Every fiber in your being aches to obey, to let yourself get touched, seen, taken by him— and your mouth drops open a sliver as you struggle to find words. Your feet can’t reach the bottom here, and Makoto seems content to keep rubbing against you in a slow sea-saw motion that makes your center feel entirely hot. And eventually you crack. Blinking up at him, you breathe a faint “okay”, and let him turn you around. His hands are quick in their exploration, sliding under the last layer up your thighs, squeezing every few inches as he goes up. When he gets to your center, there’s a little flutter of his eyes, before those digits slide in and brush over your pussy, rubbing just soft enough to leave you wanting. “Warm,” he breathes, and then pulls you a little closer. “You do me too.”

As he pushes your last layer of clothing open fully and starts sliding it off your shoulders, you allow yourself just a little curiosity. He’s handsome, and he’s close, and you just feel so needy. Your breathing is still short against his chest, but your numb fingers glide down his sides with purpose as the muscles flex under your touch. His chest rumbles when you whine at the prodding and circling of his fingers around your dripping pussy, and you glide your hands down to his tail. The touch feels a little coarse, but he’s warmer there, and when you rub your palm over the area he’d been grinding into your waist, your fingers feel a softer, spongey slit. Makoto hisses when you rub a finger up and down, and you feel more heat burn onto your face. “Here?”

The question is answered when your finger slips in and is all hot, and something bumps you. But he picks you up and with one swift dash, lays you down on the river bank to get up between your legs. You need to open wide to allow him to fit, and can only whine out his name when the weight of his body over yours pushes you into the cold stones. He licks the air a few times, before grunting. You wish you could do anything other than just flush and look away when his hands descend onto your tits and start touching and rubbing, and the pressure leaves you all exposed. But it doesn’t take long for his attention to shift back to between your legs, and now with a better angle, he sinks down to nose below your navel. “Hmn-”

The purring is paired with a flaring of the gashes on his neck, and his eyes roll back. When his hands spread your legs up as wide as you can go, he nuzzles into you, and that long black tongue peeks out to lick slowly. You can’t help it, you moan. Loudly. It feels like a million pinpricks are traveling your body, as the very long, heavy tongue drags a long strip up your center, and then the tip of it laps at the wetness coating your hole— that quickly gets pushed open further with each sloppy lick. His tongue pushes inside you as he sucks and the feeling of something so hot and so- squirmy makes you squeeze your eyes closed. It’s too strange, but you can’t pull back.

Your hands even reach for his head to tangle your fingers in his hair and whine, your back curling from the floor. You’re drenched- no longer just water as your pussy clenches around his tongue that he forces in to lick places you’ve never been licked. Makoto wraps an arm around your thigh to pull it over his shoulder when you curl and wiggle against him- you can’t help it, it feels so good. Everything’s so sensitive, like your entire body’s been doused into hot water and you’re drowning— only difference is, you’re actively longing for more.

It’s better than any drink-induced daze, late night tussle with a stable boy. It’s even better than your own touch and mind, because he’s just so big and you’re so full, so hot. Your hips grind against his face when he sucks again, and his nose brushes your most sensitive area— and try not to let the water into your mouth when you yerk again. “Ah, ahg, Makoto-sama. I can’t- I can’t handle this much, please. Oh dear gods, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Ah-ughhh, f- ah, please -keep going.”

Your lower belly is wound so tight, and even the sound of his breathing against you feels good. You could melt into the floor with how much slick is coating your insides, dripping out of you around the suction on your cunt. And Makoto doesn’t have any intention of moving. Your mind aches— you want more. You want to wrap your entire body around him and come apart— as his large hands squeeze your thighs tight and wrap them around his head like he can’t get deep enough.

The sloppy, wet sounds of his face burying between your legs to stuff you full of tongue, licking and sucking at your sensitive pussy. It has your muscles so tight as you roll your hips against him, and you can’t stop shaking. “Oh, I’m g-gonna cum— I can’t! I can’t. It feels so- gud. Ah, ahh. What is happening?” When your fingers clench in his hair, he lets out a long, animalistic groan as he glances back up. Still his tongue isn’t fully inside you. “I can’t- Makoto, I can’t!” Even though he’s reaching further than fingers can, he’s still able to fold the deft black muscle over your clit and slot his lips around it to suck. Hard.

And your body can’t handle any more. While his heartbeat pulses through his tongue against your clit, everything goes white, your muscles clenching so hard it hurts. And your heart beats so hard it feels like it stops altogether. If you make any noise at all, you can’t hear yourself over the pounding in your head, rattling your body so hard that nothing except you and him exist. Your eyes are shut until you’re aware of how he grunts against you and pinpricks get too unbearable. But he doesn’t stop, lifting your body to his face and allowing you to ride out your orgasm against him for what feels like forever.

When you feel like you can hear yourself breathe again, you unwrap your legs from around his head. “I thought my heart was going to explode. If Hitsu knew…”

Your eyes are teary when they flutter open against the light, and the black abysses that stare back are barely narrowed slits. Dipping his gills into water briefly before getting up above you again, Makoto seems different. There’s something predatory that wasn’t there before. You can’t help but go quiet. As his hands drag your body down a few inches, you swallow. “Are you okay? Sorry. I feel like I should thank you— I haven’t come that hard, ever. I don’t know about yokai but I don’t think I could feel that good.” His muscular body covers most of the river from your view, but you find it almost too hard to look at him. You’re still hot; but your skin feels cold.

His fingers slide down along your side when he lets out a little groan. “Yokai don’t do this.” Then he goes to brush his face and mouth along your throat, and you shiver a little at the feeling. “So pretty. Warm. I like warm. Stay with me?” You let him grind himself on top of you and embrace him the best you can, only fitting around the narrow of his waist, but after just a second you yerk up. Makoto pulls his head back when he notices, and you get another brush against your slit that makes a cold shiver run up your spine. Where the slit sat before, a dick has emerged- and your mouth drops open a little. The thing is vaguely dick shaped, but has spurs at the base like an anchor, is more pointed at the tip; and it also pulses with each breath.

“Pretty warm body, good. Smell good too.”

You can’t help but swear when you avert your eyes, and instead wrap your arms back around his neck. “Oh, fuck.” Surely, this is where you’d draw the line. Right? But the touching of that against you doesn’t make your body react the way you think it should. The prodding along your inner thighs just leaves you feeling empty, like you’d like to start all over again. Makoto grunts out a little breath when your tits brush his chest, before staring down at you.

After a few seconds of studying your face, and probably the heat that’s flooding your features, he licks his lips. “Human men have… hm-”

“Yes,” you quickly say. He smacks his lips and grinds against you again. “They uhm- put it inside.” If the answer shocks him, he certainly doesn’t show it— looking like he’s barely holding back from crashing his face back to yours and turning you over to fuck you like the begging whore you feel like. The longer he just keeps his solid body against yours, the harder it is to ignore yourself getting wet again against the pulsing of his cock. The purring, clicking noise coming from him feels nice, and you pull at him. “You’re not done yet, right? I can do more.”

You angle your hips a little, and try not to sound so desperate when looking up at him for a kiss. “Please- put it inside me. I- I want to feel you.” Your hands slide over the rougher scales down between you two to reach for him, and hesitate a little when his cock is heavy and covered in some sort of slime; and it seems to follow your touch. But you’re too far past embarrassment to truly care, and Makoto groans when you wrap your fingers around him to squeeze softly. “I need you.” You really don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel like your body’s being torn apart. You want to be filled, fucked full of him, and get pumped round of his kids— all things that you shouldn’t be thinking about. You didn’t with any men you’ve been with. You can’t.

Even though you know you’re being ludicrous, when he goes in for a kiss, you cling onto him hard; digging your nails into his back. You don’t even know if he could fit. His cock is proportionate to him- but it’s big and long and girthy enough to put any man to shame. You should care. You should care that you could regret being filled up to your breaking point, but you’re just so, so desperate. You might die if he doesn’t fuck you. You can feel it. “Please, please, please—”

—You slide a few feet across the floor, angry thrashing scaring you up into a flounder as you breathe in deeply. Makoto’s dragged off of you and down before you can even blink, water splashing everywhere; and you struggle back to the riverbank with wide eyes. Now you’re no longer side by side with another person- no, creature- you suddenly feel the entire ache of the cold water. The shortness of breath, the numbness of your lips and hands and feet. You feel the painful sting of your back where you’ve been sliced by a dozen sharp rocks, struggling to keep your head above water. And you feel the soreness between your legs of having been filled by something too big.

When you get over the pure shock, you notice the struggling has stopped, and you notice your creature’s golden shape next to someone else. They glitter and glint even in the low light of the afternoon, and you furrow your brows. The second shape only gets clearer when the light shines through the water and colors the flickers a blinding maroon. Your tongue feels cold.

Your arms wrap over your chest and cover up the best you can when Makoto surfaces again and gives you a kind smile, but you take a slight step back. His long, pale lashes flutter when he reaches out a hand. “Sorry. Rin don’t want to bleed you.” Your back and your painful scrapes are the lesser of your worries though. Whatever spell you were under, you’ve been snapped out of. You feel entirely strange- enough to have hot tears welling up along your waterline. What the hell have you been dragged into? You were going to… do things with some monster you didn’t know existed until today. Your brain screams and pounds, and your stomach is entirely flipped. But the brunet softly continues. “He don’t like I take you. Can you come here?”

“No.” Your hair now sticks to your neck and chest, and every second you’re out of the water, is one where the feeling comes back to your limbs. Your arms are so heavy as you keep them up. “There’s more of you?” You don’t know what you expected, really. Maybe you should have known. Maybe you should have questioned. But how could you have truly known?

“Yes.” he answers after a beat, and swims up a little closer with a frightening ease. “Shhh, okay. He will come. You stay.” You try to tell him not to, but he dips below the water surface before you get the chance to ask him not to, splashing water all over as he does— and you don’t know what else to do but to stare at the small bubbles that pop as peach blossoms wash over your feet. Before too long, the reddish shape surfaces alongside Makoto. He lingers in the deep of the river however; fiery eyes zeroing in on you without blinking at all. He stays submerged from the nose down, and you can’t help but feel too watched. 

Your heartbeat doesn’t calm when the brunet swims up closer, and you take a little breath. “Who’s that?”

“Rin,” Makoto softly, sweetly answers, as if he was expecting the question all along. He smiles wide like a saint, and you have to ignore the voice in the back of your head that tells you to get back in the water. His hand reaches out though, and you almost want to. Almost. Your arms and back break out in goosebumps. Then Makoto looks back at the other yokai, and gives you a smiley once-over. It takes you a little too long to recognize something else that plays over his features though. A strange sort of knowing, like he’s seeing right through you. “You Rin’s mate.”

You don’t know why you don’t get up and run.

“Come back in?”

Only that the voice in the back of your head gets more unbearable. You wrap your hands over your ears, and try to hang on.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[attapullman]

I'm in the mood for some angst 🤭

“i’m here now. i know i wasn’t before. but i should’ve been. and i’m not going anywhere. i’m not gonna let that happen again.” w/ neighbour!bob – @bobgasm

Nope, I definitely didn't make myself sad writing this 🥺 neighbor!Bob better come comfort me rn

Drabble Day

If you close your eyes, the caramelly sweet scent of chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, and banana bread invade your senses. When you open them, you’re affronted with the same neighborhood bitches you’ve spent all afternoon with.

This wasn’t the plan. You never would have signed up for four long hours of the bake sale with every gossipy neighbor you have. Sitting at this table where they’ve done nothing but make passive aggressive notes about your yard, taste in curtains, and how you really should have someone come out to quote you a new fence gate. If hell had a name, it was the annual bake sale.

Bob was supposed to be with you, sampling products that looked too good to pass and laughing over the flooding between your yards that neither of you could find the cause. You’d even worn the dress that he’s complimented more than once. Where was he?

When the clock hit the hour, you made the flimsiest excuse you could and beelined your way back home. You wouldn’t be able to drive by the elementary school again without shuddering. Home and an early night in were your only saviors now, your normal knight in armor missing in action.

An early night was optimistic, you mused, as the sun went down and you were still up. Sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of cocoa, tension tight in your shoulders as the words from that afternoon hung from them. Where had he been? How could he have left you to fend for yourself? He’d always been your partner in crime, and you’d been left alone.

The first tear rolls down too easily.

The knock on your back door makes more fall, knowing only one person could be on the other side. The one person you want to see, but also don’t.

The door opens and there he stands, still in a flight suit, hair matted down along his sweat-and-fuel-streaked face. The most compassionate eyes filled with an apology.

“I’m so sorry.” His own words are choked, knowing he’s let you down. The mission controlled his schedule, no exceptions for bake sales. Bob pulls you in to cry into his chest, a hand stroking down your back. “Are you okay? What happened? Please don’t cry, my sweet girl.”

Hot breaths blow back on your skin as you try to regulate yourself. But his presence is safe and your emotions need release. He listens so patiently as you tell him everything they said, pausing to let out pained sobs.

“I’m here now. I’m here now, you’re not alone.”

Reality is lost as you find comfort in him, his soothing hands and soft whispers calming your soul. Your head tucked into his chest, reassured by the gentle beat of his heart. A sob nearly breaks out again when he pulls back slightly to look you in the eyes, his hands smudging oil along your neck as he cradles you softly.

“I’m here now. I know I wasn’t before, but I should’ve been. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not gonna let that happen again,” he promises you. “Admiral Simpson is going to have to shoot me out of the sky to keep me from you again.”

[mochiwrites]

omg their anniversary ??? augh that’s so 😭😭 did they realize it was their anniversary date? or only once they got home? how do they feel about third life after the fact, once they’ve had some time to decompress with eachother?

>:3c I think they realize it after they get home. and well…

grian does not handle it well. at all. he closes himself off from scar for a while, purposefully hiding and sleeping in his own base. it’s one of the rare times where scar can’t get through to grian at all. and it kills him to see him hurting so much, especially when he knows that grian would never hurt him intentionally

and scar feels so bad for putting this fate on grian. but he knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he killed grian. he knew he wasn’t strong enough to do it. which makes him feel like the worst person in the world

it lasts for maybe a few weeks until there’s an intervention, and mumbo is trying to get through to grian just as scar comes around and begs him to talk. and when they finally do talk the flood gates open. it ends with them holding onto each other, clinging, and lots of crying. they whisper a lot of apologies and I love yous, and scar tries to stamp out as much of grian’s guilt as he possibly can, while so earnestly asking grian for his forgiveness for his selfishness

when all is said and done, there’s conflicting feelings about third life. there were happy moments, things the two of them will forever hold close. but there are moments they’d rather forget. that they don’t talk about after their initial conversation

but they heal together, always together

[throneofsapphics]

Hey! I would loovee a part two of ‘Theirs’, maybe where reader pulls away from nessian because she doesn’t trust them (especially intimately) after what happened

And they’re just in agony but realise if they act the way they did before, they might lose her forever

I’m a sucker for angst with a happy ending😅 (if you want)

theirs part two 

Nessian x f!Reader

(part one)

Summary: Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.”

Warnings: some angst, discussions of SA/dubcon, not proofread

A/N: thank you for requesting it! sorry it took so long, this is a bit shorter and kinda went off script

The next morning, both of them acted as if nothing was wrong. Like it was another ordinary day with the events of the previous night washed clean. You couldn’t wash that fear out of your memory. Sure there was arousal present, but the entire night had not sit right with you. Still, you kept a smile on your face and kept up the pretense. Mainly because you didn’t know what else you could dol. You didn’t find your own release that night either. Maybe they didn’t know, or were trying to punish you. Either way, it didn’t matter right now. 

Cassian leaned in for a kiss as he left, he was already running late, but you turned your head, letting him leve one on your cheek. He frowned at you but didn’t time to question it as he took off. You let out a slow breath as he flew away. He hadn’t the time to question it and you planned it that way. Nesta wasn’t present either, and you know she would’ve had questions. She’d always been particularly observant. 

You tried to put up a good front, but after a week Nesta finally brought it up. 

“What’s wrong?” It was just the two of you, in the library. 

“Nothing,” you said shortly, returning your focus to your book. She snatched it from your hands, marking your page and setting it aside. 

“Talk to me.” Her words were a plea, almost begging. “You’ve barely kissed or touched either of us all week, haven’t spoken much - you’re turning into a ghost.” 

You didn’t know how to answer her, what kind of words would actually explain it. Nesta waited not-so-patiently, but she could see you were thinking and held her tongue. “That night, after Rita’s,” you spoke quietly. “Put yourself in my shoes.” 

Anything else, you might’ve burst into tears and left her to her thoughts, searching for a place you could find some peace and solace. 

You knew Nesta would speak to Cassian about it, and they’d likely try to find you after dinner - you’d taken to eating somewhere else, feigning work to do. 

Sure enough, they showed up and you ended up in one of the cozier sitting areas. 

“I thought you enjoyed it,” Nesta started. 

“My body did …” you took a few deep breaths, calming yourself. “But I didn’t feel safe.” 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Cassian countered. 

“You didn’t give me a chance,” you snapped at him. 

Nesta’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry.” Out of all things, you never expected Nesta to apologize to you. Actually, you’re not certain you’ve heard those words come out of her mouth before. “How do we fix this?” 

Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.” Your breathing grew heavy, fists clenched, a tightness in your chest.” 

“A safeword.” Nesta blurted out. 

“It’s not just about sex,” you snarled, “I was having fun. FInally introducing you to my friends, and you couldn’t wait til the Gods-damned night was over before dragging me out.” 

You left the room, any longer and you might’ve said something you would truly regret. 

It took months for them to earn your trust back. So many discussions on boundaries, and you could tel they were really trying. They asked to meet your friends again, in a different setting, and you relented. If there was any jealousy, they kept it firmly under wraps. You loved them, with all of your heart, and managed to trust again, to let them back in. 

[bingbongsupremacy]

Forget Me Not Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: idk lmk if there are some I should add. Hospital maybe?

Summary: After an unexpected encounter with HYDRA, Bucky is left without memory of who you are.

*Not Proof Read*

*****

As soon as I heard the news I rushed to the hospital.

Everyone let me through, eyes filled with pity and knowing. A knowledge of something I don't know.

Steve sends me a sympathetic look, his eyes hiding what's to come.

" Y/N- " Tony begins, attempting to block me from the hospital room.

" Let me through, Tony. " I state tensely. What are they keeping from me? What the fuck happened?

" We need to talk first. " Tony continues to block me.

I push past him. " We'll talk after. I need to see him. " I argue.

" Y/N, listen to me. He's not the same. " Tony whispers. " He....HYDRA found him. "

I snap towards Tony. " What? "

Tony nods. " HYDRA found him on our mission. They...they wiped his memory. "

My heart sinks. " Completely? "

" Not completely. "

His words spark hope in my mind.

" He just...he doesn't know what year it is. He thinks he just got back from war. " Tony states softly.

I let out a shallow breath. " I want-I need to see him. Please Tony. " My voice shakes.

Tony hesitates. Pepper gently places a hand on his bicep, whispering something into his ear. " Fine. Just...he's not the same, Y/N. He's not the same man you knew. "

Tony steps to the side, allowing me to pass.

I step into the sterile white room. A blue sheet blocks my vision from seeing my boyfriend. The room is silent, the soft beeping of a machine playing as the only noise.

I pull back the curtain and am immediately met with the sight of Bucky. Stitches cover his arm and face. A nasty bruise sits around one of his eyes. His hair is pulled out of the way of his face. His breath is shallow from sleep.

I stand still, taking in the sight in front of me.

I'm surprised with Bucky lets out a small groan. " Steve? " He asks softly.

I shake my head as he opens his eyes. Confusion fills his face. " I'm not Steve. " I whisper, unsure what to say. How do you tell someone you're their partner of 3 years?

" Are you a nurse? " Bucky's voice sounds dry, like he hasn't drunk water in weeks.

" Buck, " Steve's voice replies from behind me. He places a hand a comforting hand on my shoulder. " This is Y/N. They're your- "

I cut Steve off, shaking my head. " Friend. " I interrupt. " You probably don't remember me, " Pain shudders through my heart while I lie. " But we hung out all the time. " I try to conceal the pain in my voice. " I...I just wanted to check on you. "

Bucky attempts to sit up. " I-I'm sorry...I don't remember you. "

" I know. " I send him a tight lipped smile. " It's okay. I don't expect you to. "

Steve's hand holds my shoulder a little tighter, as if he's trying to soothe me in some way.

" I'm going to go. " I turn away from the two men. I can't be here. Not now.

He has no idea who I am.

" Wait! " I hear Bucky shout behind me.

I don't turn around, knowing that looking at him will set the flood gates open.

" I'm sorry...I don't know what I did to upset you...I'm sorry I don't remember you. " Bucky apologizes.

I nod stiffly. " It's not your fault. " I rub my eyes. " I'm gonna go, you get better, Barnes. "

I rush out of the room, not wanting to see the man any longer.

" You didn't need to lie. " Tony shuts the door behind me.

" Tony, if he found out we were dating it would just make everything awkward. " I shake my head. " I didn't want to confuse him. He's got a lot to adjust to. Adding in a partner would make it ten times worse. "

Tony sighs. " What if he finds out? " Tony asks. " Won't he be pissed? "

I met his gaze. " He won't. He can't. Tell the others not to say anything. He needs to get better, this would make it worse. "

" What if it helps him? To know you're there for him? To know you've been with him this long- "

" He has Steve. Steve's been with him way longer than me. I'm still going to talk to him. " Maybe. " I just won't complicate things. "

Tony nods. " Alright, I'll let them know. "

I'm doing this for his sake.

Right?

[salllzy]

The courts #5 part 1

The Spring Court was in a panic, the Princess was missing and her guards had been killed. The former Queen had returned to the court with her new husband, the pair of them had demanded answers. Answers that none of them had. Lilith had blown up at him, calling him careless, useless and everything else that she could think of. Micheal had stood there as Lilith raged and Lucifer felt bitter about everything that had happened between them. He would never regret having Charlie, but how his and Lilith's relationship ended?

That he regretted. He hoped that Micheal was happy, he had won.

"Sire, there is a platoon of Winter Court soldiers marching this way." For a moment he feared that they were marching to war, the Spring Court wasn't prepared for war.

"Sire, the Princess is with them. However, there is no sign of her guards." Relief flooded him, Charlie was safe and on her way home. He would get the answers that he needed.

"Open the gates and send a welcoming party, tell them that their troops must stay outside of the walls." He watched as the guards rushed to do as they had been instructed. He ignored the way that Lilith and Micheal were looking at him.

"Daddy!" Charlie came running into the throne room, he strode down the steps and caught her as she threw herself at him.

"Oh, starlight thank goodness you are alright." He clutched her close and pressed his face into her hair.

"Apologies for the delay." He moved and looked at the female fae that was stood a little distance away. He blinked several times as he caught sight of the red deer ears perched on top of her head. Charlie wiggled and he placed her on the ground, he watched as she approached the female fae and grabbed her hand.

"Daddy this is Sarah, she is the Princess of the Winter court." He watched as she placed a hand over her heart and bowed at the waist, this was the first time that he had ever met a member of the Winter Court.

They didn't leave the forests that they lived in, no one had ever seen one. Until now. He knew that he wasn't the only one who was shocked by what he was seeing, many of the guards were trying to subtly look at her. The female fae didn't seem all that bothered by the way that she was being gawked at.

"We have brought the remains of your soldiers back so that they may be returned to the earth in your customs." She was very formal and Lucifer wondered if it was common in the Winter Court to be so formal.

"Our apologies that we were unable to retrieve all of the bodies, but some of them had already been eaten." A chill ran down his spine at her words, just what resided in the Winter forest?

Although he wasn't sure that he wanted to know, not if they were capable of killing a fully grown fae.

"Since Princess Charlie has been returned safely, I shall have my men hand over the remains and we shall depart." Lucifer blinked several times, they were certainly efficient. He would give them that.

But by the Laws and rules of the Spring Court, he should be offering her hospitality. However, he had never dealt with the Winter Court before and he wasn't sure if he would offend them by doing so. He had no desire to create an incident between the two courts.

"You're leaving?" Charlie looked upset that she was leaving so soon and perhaps he could use this to his advantage.

"I was only granted a few days of leave and that was so I could bring you home." Charlie's eyes began to fill with tears, the Winter fae knelt down and looked at Charlie.

"When you are older and stronger, then you can come and visit. The Winter Forests are not kind to those that they do not know." Charlie's bottom lip trembled as she looked at the older female fae.

The Winter fae reached around her neck and pulled a necklace off, it was a tooth that had been carved into a deer. She passed it to Charlie and the young Spring fae took the necklace.

[midwestmade29]

Rekindled ❤️

(A continuation of "Broken Promise")

To Anonymous: Thank you for reading my original story and for your request! It makes me so happy knowing you enjoyed it 🥹 I know my story is pretty lengthy, but it covers a lot of ground! I had so much fun writing it 🖤

Original Anonymous Request: "I absolutely loved that last fic! Anyway we can get something where the two end up reconnecting, rekindling, and end up together in the end after Christian’s divorce? I feel like even though they had a rough relationship growing up, you can’t tell me they aren’t soulmates. You can’t tell me this man had secretly loved here since they were young and didn’t realize it until she got into her high school and college era. I love this so much dude 😩🫶🏼❤️"

Disclaimers: Anger, physical altercation, fighting (verbally), cursing, angst. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2,682

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Side note: This story is officially complete. I won't be adding anything else to it. You can read the first part of the story here and also the prequel to the story here! Thanks for following along 🖤

Adam noticed that you had been MIA again for the last half hour of your party. He knew you couldn’t have gotten far, so he started searching the house for you. He was about to knock on your bedroom door, his fingers already against the wood but he stopped when he heard you crying. His heart sank as he stood and listened to your cries turn into sobs! When he couldn’t take it any longer, he opened your door just a crack and spoke softly, “Hey, sis. What’s wrong? Can I come in?” You were curled in a ball on your bed with your face buried in your hands, but you managed to let out a pathetic “yes” in response. He came and sat at the foot of your bed, fidgeting while trying to figure out how to proceed with your conversation. “Did something happen at the party? Talk to me, sis,” he prodded. When you sat up and looked your brother in the eyes, the flood gates opened, words and tears flowing freely, leaving you out of breath by the time you were finished. It was obvious the more you carried on, the more Adam’s anger grew. His hands were balled into fists that rested on his thighs and his jaw was clenched so tightly you don’t know how his teeth didn’t break! You didn’t go into every detail about the relationship you and Christian had before, sparing him the part about losing your virginity to him, but everything else was no longer a secret. Hurt flashed in his eyes when you apologized for not telling him sooner, leaving you wishing that you could take it all back and rewrite the past. In between sniffles you peered over at your brother who was clearly conflicted on how to feel about the situation, and he damn near exploded when you asked him what he was thinking. With every word he said, his voice became more elevated, “What am I thinking? WHAT am I thinking right now? I’m thinking about how my baby sister and my best friend kept this huge secret from me for 2 years. I’m thinking about how stupid I am for not seeing how things really were that summer. I must be going fucking blind and need to get my eyes checked! I’m trying to come up with a reason not to kill that blonde son of a bitch with my bare hands right now! He not only made you cry again, but he broke a promise. That’s unacceptable in my book."

You begged and pleaded with Adam to calm down when he jumped up off your bed and darted out the door in search of Christian. Rage was radiating off him as he checked behind every door, looking for his best friend around every corner in the house before finding him sitting outside on the front porch. The loud thud the door made when Adam threw it open made everyone jump! “What the hell, man? You alright?” Christian asked as he stood up. Adam walked over to him and got mere inches away from his face and shouted, “No, dumbass! I’m not alright! I know about you and my little sister. I know all about the summer you shared!” Christian’s eyes darted between yours and your brother’s, unsure of how to proceed. You pulled on Adam’s arm trying to get him to come back inside, but he brushed you off. Your brother’s chest was rising and falling rapidly with each shallow breath he took, the veins in his forehead protruding while he waited for Christian to say something. “Look, Adam we were going to tell you. Time just got away from us, and our relationship was over at the end of the summer anyways. It’s in the past now,” he explained, but Adam wasn’t having any of it. Your brother shoved Christian once, making him stumble back a little before shoving him again and again. “You’ve had 2 years to tell me asshole! How could you keep something like that from me, man?! And why my baby sister? Why her?!” Christian grew more irritated the more Adam jabbed his finger into his chest, and the atmosphere quickly became more tense. You knew you had to try and separate the two of them and you gave it your best effort when you cried out, “Please, Adam! Go back in the house and try to calm down. You’re not thinking straight right now, and I don’t want this to get any worse. I’m begging you! Please!” Something made Christian snap, one could blame it on Adam’s harsh words or his death stare, but what came out of Christian’s mouth next knocked the wind right out of you without even being touched, “You make it sound like this was all my doing! Y/N isn’t innocent in all this you know! It takes two to tango and boy did we tango a lot that summer!”

You weren’t sure what was louder, Adam shouting “YOU FUCKED HER?!” or the sound of his fist connecting with Christian’s face. One punch led to two and eventually both men ended up rolling around on the ground! After Christian landed a couple punches of his own on your brother’s face, he had him pinned to the ground. It didn’t last long though since Adam’s 6’5 frame overpowered him! Your brother’s voice was eerily calm when he spoke again and you could see the anguish written on his face, “First you take my little sister’s innocence, then you break the promise you made the both of us! Not to mention you kept all of this from me. Go fuck yourself.” He let go of Christian as he stood up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. He immediately clutched his ribcage as pain radiated from the area, and winced when he touched the giant goose egg that was already forming on his forehead. Christian didn’t look any better while he laid on the ground groaning and trying to catch his breath. No further words were shared between any of you that night. Everything that did- and didn’t- need to be said was already out in the open. When your mother caught wind of the situation, she was thankful no one was seriously injured and that no one in the neighborhood called the police. Later on, you looked out the front window and noticed Christian was no longer there. He must’ve gone to his parent’s house when he was finally able to peel himself off the ground. You didn’t see Christian again after that night. Your brother didn’t talk to you for weeks after everything went down the way it did. You called him hundreds of times and sent countless text messages, but you never got a reply. You apologized and begged him to talk to you in every voicemail you left him. Eventually you got the hint and gave him the time and space he needed even though it hurt like hell not being able to talk to your big brother. You could only hope that what they say is true, “time heals all wounds.”

1 year later ⏭️

Almost a month after the fight happened, Adam started talking to you again! The two of you had several long and difficult conversations about everything that went on the night of your graduation party and the summer you and Christian spent together. While things felt like they were back to normal, you knew deep down inside that your relationship with your brother had been altered a little bit. You were shocked to learn that Christian was the one to call Adam and make amends with him! They somehow worked through everything and rekindled their friendship. He even asked Adam to be the best man at his wedding!

“You know you’re invited too,” your mom’s voice startled you when she walked into the kitchen unannounced. You had been staring at Christian’s wedding invitation that seemed to mock you every time you approached the fridge. It took everything in you not to yank it down and rip it to shreds! “There’s no way I’m going! It must’ve been an oversight on someone’s part including my name on it. Do me a favor, don’t write my name on the wedding card you got them.”

Christian’s big day had eventually come and gone, and you made sure to avoid hearing anything about it. One day when you were in the checkout line at the grocery store, a magazine cover caught your eye. You tossed it in the cart when you noticed who was on the front and looked over it in your car. You sat in the parking lot for a good 30 minutes crying over the stunning picture of Christian and his new bride. You read over the article more times than you should’ve, eyes skimming over the words that described every detail of their grand affair. Your heart was aching by the time you tossed the magazine into the backseat, the realization settling in that you and Christian were nothing more than a long-gone memory.

Over the next several years, Adam’s popularity in the professional wrestling world continued to skyrocket. He was definitely a fan favorite! While you enjoyed watching him achieve his career goals and dreams, your favorite thing he accomplished was marrying his wife and giving you two beautiful nieces. Seeing him this happy meant the world to you, and you could only hope that you would find the same happiness one day too. You were thriving in your own ways, having a successful career of your own, a great group of friends that you adore, checking things off your bucket list left and right, and spending time with your mom every chance you got. You focused on the things that really mattered to you and embraced your independence! As far as you knew, Christian and his wife were doing well but you hadn’t heard anything about them in a long time. Even though you tried to forget him, the memories of growing up together and falling in love with him crept in your mind from time to time. There had been several guys that tried to pursue you over the years, but none of them ended up capturing your heart the way that Christian did. You had been in one long term relationship that helped ease the sting of loneliness, but you knew it wasn’t fair to keep them around when your heart still longed for someone else. You eventually let them go, and the sadness in their eyes when you told them it was over still haunts you to this day.

For Adam’s last match before he officially retired, he wanted you and your mom ringside along with his wife and your nieces to cheer him on! You were hesitant at first to do it, but you agreed when your brother reassured you that Christian wouldn’t be there due to having other obligations. Everything with Adam’s match went well and it was over in the blink of an eye! All 5 of you girls cried when the referee gave the final 3 count as Adam laid in the center of the ring. During the commercial break he walked over and hugged each of you and thanked you all for loving him and supporting him all this time. The company he worked for was throwing him a party after the show was off the air, and once it began, he was being pulled in every direction as more and more people wanted to congratulate him. Your mom was with your nieces at the dessert table while your sister-in-law mingled with some of the female wrestlers. You found yourself alone standing at a tall cocktail table sipping on your drink, just taking in the different sights and sounds of the party. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw someone standing near your table, but when you turned to get a better look, they were gone. You brushed it off and returned your gaze to the party. “Come join us aunt Y/N!” your nieces called out to you from the dance floor. You weren’t really in the mood to dance, but what kind of aunt would you be to decline such a sweet invitation?

“Again! Again!” your nieces cheered as you twirled them around simultaneously! The song playing was upbeat and fun and you were enjoying laughing and smiling with your favorite little girls. All too soon it started to fade out and was replaced by a slow song instead. Everyone except for a few couples left the dance floor, and you were on your way back to your table when an old familiar voice stopped you in your tracks, “Hey, Y/N. It’s…been a long time.” Christian’s greeting instantly took you back to the night of your graduation party when he addressed you the same way. Your stomach did a flip when you turned and took in the sight of him. He was still as handsome as ever; time had clearly treated him well! Your reply was shy and quiet as his blue eyes bore into you, “Hi, Christian…” He cleared his throat before speaking again, clearly just as nervous as you were being face to face after all this time. “Um, would you like to dance?” he asked sheepishly. You were hesitant at first, but the way he was looking at you made your resolve fade and the next thing you knew; you had your arms wrapped around his neck and the two of you were swaying along with the music.

A few moments passed in silence, the both of you unsure of what to say but Christian eventually spoke up, “You look great, Y/N. How are you?” His compliment made a small smile form in the corner of your mouth which made him smile too. “I’m fine, thank you. But um, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it tonight. If you haven’t already, you’ll have to find Adam! I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you,” you replied. “I decided being here for Adam was more important that my original plans. I watched the match from backstage. I was also hoping you would be here. It’s good to see you, Y/N.” His last few words made you blush, but the pink that covered your cheeks faded away when you remembered an important detail, Christian is married! You dropped your arms from around his neck causing concern to envelop his handsome features. “Where’s your wife?” you asked, even though you didn’t want to know the answer. His response shocked you, “Actually, we’re divorced. Everything was finalized a few months back. Marrying her was a mistake and it’s something I deeply regret. I had no idea what I was doing back then and I sure as hell don’t know what I’m doing right now, but I had to see you Y/N. Over the years I probably asked Adam and your mom about you more than I should’ve, but it made me happy knowing that you were doing so well. I never stopped thinking about you, not even once! I’m sorry it took me so long to realize what an idiot I am. I just hope I’m not too late.”

It had been 4 months since Adam’s retirement party. 4 months since that night ended with Christian asking you if he could see you again. 4 months since you and your soulmate rekindled your love for one other. It’s been quite the journey to get to this point, but you’re so thankful you and Christian found your way back to each other. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t be long before Christian would propose to you, and you couldn’t wait to be his wife! When the time comes for you to recite your vows to one another, Christian would be making a new promise to you that he would continue to love you for the rest of your lives and the tears he will make you cry that day will be tears of pure joy.

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

As the Sun Sets // The Meeting // Part Six

TW: Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, mentions of R*pe

*Please be aware of the trigger warnings for this chapter as it is dark and some themes may be triggering or hard for some readers.*

Part Seven

Scarlett's POV:

"It's been a week since the Halloween dance and Adrian caught me leaving my dorm the next afternoon and apologized. Explaining to me that it looked bad on him that I would be showing that much skin around other people. I hesitantly  apologized, but apologized no less and told him that I would be more modest. “Good girl” he said as he kissed my cheek and walked me to class.

Draco and I have our meeting with the Dark Lord tonight and we have been in the room of requirement every night trying to get this damn thing open. We are no closer than when the term started. Needless to say, we are bloody stressed. 

Slipping into my wand into my jumper, I stand outside Draco and Theos dorm. I knock on the large oak door twice. “Come in.” I hear Draco's voice call. When I open the door I see Draco pacing back and forth from his bed to Theos, mumbling to himself. Seeing as my lovely cousin is having a sort of panic attack I take a seat on the edge of Theos bed. 

The bathroom door to my left squeaks open. “Hey, tell me if you see my father will you? Oh, and feel free to throw him under the night bus if you get the chan--” He pauses looking at me with his seductive smile. “Bambina, I didn't hear you come in.” Theo is wearing just a towel that is low on his hips and water is dripping from his chest and disappearing under the towel. 

Say something Scarlet! I yell at myself. “I uh. Yeah. Draco said it was okay to come in.” 

“Well it's more than okay. Are you here to keep me company while our Drakey goes to see the Dark Lord. “ He says that last part with a very dramatic Italian accent while using another towel to dry his curly hair. 

This stops Dracos pacing “What? No Theo. She is coming with me. The letter from mother specifically said her presence was required. I’m only invited because hes at the Manor.” 

“What? Why do they need Scarlet?” Theos eyes start to gray while he is looking at me with concern. 

“I am not sure.” Draco says digging through the mess of blankets on his bed, looking for his wand. Once his wand is secured, he holds his hand out for me, I stand up to grab it when I am stopped with a loud thump from behind me. Theo now has a black jumper on and is struggling to put his pants on. 

“Hold on. I am coming with you.” He says once his pants are on and he's reaching for his own wand. 

“Theo. No. You cannot come.” Draco is pulling us away from the brown haired boy. “The Dark Lord requested her. Not you.” 

“You're bloody mad if you think I am just going to let her get thrown at his feet. You know what he is capable of.” His face is red and his eyes are fully gray now. Anger radiating off him in waves.

“Theo.” I reach for his hand, pulling his attention off of Draco. His eyes snap to mine and lighten slightly. “I will be fine. I promise. He probably just wants me to attend because I essentially live with Malfoys.” I give him my best convincing smile.

If I am being honest, when Cissy wrote that he requested me to be there as well I was flooded with panic. It's all I have been able to think about. But Theo cannot go. I do not want to anger The Dark Lord anymore than he will already be. 

“Please. We will tell you everything we can when we get back. I promise.” I squeeze his hand reassuringly. 

Still looking unconvinced he pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. “Please be safe, Bambina. Draco, please bring her straight back here.” 

With Theo releasing him from their man hug, he puts his hand on Dracos shoulder and steps back. With one final look, Draco takes my hand in his and the uncomfortable twist and pull from the belly we are home. Malfoy Manor. 

——————————————————————————————————

Aunt Cissy is standing outside the gates of the Manor awaiting our arrival. 

“Mum. Is he here already?” Draco asks quietly while hugging his mother and giving her a chast kiss on the cheek.

“Yes. He's inside waiting for you two.” She pulls me as well and kisses my cheek. “Come on. We have to hurry. Need not anger him. Remember what I taught you both?” Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I locked all my doors. Stealing myself off. I turn and see Draco doing the same. 

Making our way into the manor feels like a death sentence. As soon as we walk through the doors we can hear screams. Female screams. And then that laugh that haunts my dreams. My mothers laughed. 

There, sitting at the dinner table on a large wingback chair sits the Dark Lord. 

“Ah, my Protégés have arrived. Sit. Sit.” He waves his hand out to indicate for us to sit next to him at the table. As we make our way around the table I see many familiar faces. Nott Sr. Umbridge. Snape. The Carrows. Crabbe Sr. Goyle Sr. Aunt Cissy, Lucius, and of course my mom and dad. Bellatrix and Rodolphus. 

“Little Lestrange. Your father tells me you have come a long way with your training.” His red eyes are trained on me. I can feel a pinch in between my eyes. I try to focus on his words. “Yes my lord.” 

The room is silent. “Then how come… You and the young Malfoy boy have yet to fix the cabinet?” I feel Draco stiffen next to me. 

I am starting to sweat, “Well my lord.” I swallow hard. “It has proven to be more difficult than we originally anticipated..” He is pushing through now. Breaking all the locks he sees. 

“And here I was… hoping your father wasn't lying to me. That you could in fact be useful.” out of the corner of my eye I can see Rodolphus seething. “Stand up Little Lestrange.” Taking a deep breath I stand up beside my chair. 

“Rodolphus, why don't you show us some of your… training methods.” I stiffen, eyes darting to aunt Cissy, only to realize that she can't help me. Breathe…

Then before I realize,He shouts.  “Crucio” I try to stay strong. I try to focus all of my energy on staying standing. He is still pushing through my mind and now with me being distracted images of Adrian, Pansy, Blaise and Draco flashes through my mind. Late night study sessions, stolen kisses in alcoves, dress shopping. He rips through my memories one by one. 

“Remove the disillusionment charm Bellatrix. Let her show us her true self.” 

“Please” I pleaded quietly to the floor. I see her flick her wrist “as you wish my lord”.

My eyes wander to Draco. I have never shown him my scars. I have never told him what goes on when I am not at Hogwarts or here. No one knows but my parents. 

My skin feels chilled and I know that the charm was removed as well as the jumper that I was wearing. Gasps and murmurs from around the group. Tears streaming down my face and Draco's eyes are fully gray as he stares at me.

“There she is…” The Dark Lord smiles sinisterly. “Again.” This time it's Bellatrix to cast the curse, smiling her yellow teeth at me.  

“Crucio.” I'm screaming. The pain is deafening. White hot blades working their way from inside my skin trying to get out. His attack on my mind doesn't stop. This time. Images of Theo work their way to the forefront of my mind. I try to push them back but I am so weak.

Late nights by the lake. Butterflies in my stomach when he calls me “Mi ragazza”. His smile as he kisses my hand. Falling asleep on him in the common room. The way my heart wrenches when he comes back from visiting his father, covered in bruises and with broken bones. 

I can't fight back. I finally break, falling to the floor. 

“Nott....” the Dark Lord stops his attack and turns towards the elder Nott. “Ah yes. Your heir… Why hasn't he been marked?” 

Nott Sr. Looks confused, eyes narrowed as he looks from me to the Dark Lord. “He doesn't have what it takes my Lord… He is a disgrace and a disappointment to our family name.” Disgust riddles the elders' words. 

The Dark Lord contemplates this for a second “Our Little Lestrange here, begs to differ. It seems she cares a great deal for your son…” I am struggling to breathe when I am lifted by my arm, to stand by my father. “Nott… Come forward.” My vision is starting to blur but I can see Nott Sr. coming to stand in front of me. 

“What do you think your son thinks of our little Lestrange? Do you think that her feelings are… reciprocated…?” The elder Nott assesses me closely. “I am not certain, my lord.” he says solemnly. 

“I see… What do you think, little Lestrange?” I can barely think, let alone will myself to speak. 

“SPEAK” The Dark Lord yells, with a flick of his wand I'm screaming, pain coursing through my body. “N-no… M-my L-lord.” I can feel the blood starting to trickle from the laceration he created just now on my collar bone. Blood slithering down my arm and my chest.

Deep in thought the Dark Lord “ Well… What about you Nott. Are you interested in our Little Lestrange?” Stepping up to me I can feel Nott Sr. coming closer. Running his fingers down my scar over my eye. 

The other men in the room are watching intently “Well… I guess without all the scars she was quite attractive. Perky breasts. Round behind.” His hand trails from my face down to my collar bone. I try to squirm away but I am unable to while being held in place by Rodolphus. Hands ghosting over my right breast, I involuntarily take a deep haggard breath. 

“She seems eager for an affectionate touch from a Nott… How about the rest of you?... Greyback? Dolohov?...” The Dark Lord suggests to the rest of the men around the room. “I hear they can be quite… intense…” The Dark Lord whispers to me. 

Both men rise from their seats to come near me, just as eager as Nott. Sr. Tears are flowing freely now. I can still sense them standing in front of me. Eyes trained on me, licking their lips. 

My breathing picks up, my limbs locked in place. Whimpers of pain and fear escaping my mouth. 

“Now, Now… Settle down Little Lestrange. They won't touch you… Not yet…”  

“Sit back down.” He dismisses the men to be seated again and my vision has cleared a bit he speaks to me again.

“You will fix that cabinet. You will get us into Hogwarts. If not…” He goes quiet and looks around at the men who had all been standing around me 

“Then you get a taste of what life is like for your precious Nott Jr. at home.” His snake-like smile reaches Draco and with a wave of his hand he calls my cousin to attention. “Malfoy… Get our Little Lestrange back to school. You have a cabinet to fix.” 

Draco doesn't need to be told twice. With quick movements he carefully takes me from Rodolphus’ hold and walks me out of the dinner room. 

Once we are out of earshot of the others Draco tries to talk to me, I think he is trying to calm me down, but I can't concentrate on what he's saying. He picks me up bridal style and my head lays limply on his chest. 

His heart is beating rapidly. Whispering to me. Words unclear. The blood is draining from the new laceration fast. I feel the pull of apparition but as soon as we land back in the dorm I feel as if I'm drying. 

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 94 // Weren't You Happy? // Day 68

Contents (Warnings): Happy? (Angst, slight blood mention, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 3,000+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: None Yet

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

(Current Day)

Drake

His thoughts that went on all night were interrupted by Lynette stirring awake. Her sound quickened realizing that everything that had happened wasn't a dream and she was trapped with him in a cell. There was little to no light within—Drake could only see because of his species. 

He wouldn't suppose she could. 

"D-drake." Her shaken voice called for reassurance, looking in his direction but too afraid to physically reach out for it. 

He hadn't moved his back from the corner. "Yeah..." The ease of her relief did nothing to calm his nerves. 

His anger festered and bubbled like flesh in frying oil. I should have fought like hell. I should have died trying to do something. Drake gave in for her sake more than his. 

Lynette was innocent. 

"Are you still hurt?"

"Physically, no." He felt the words expelling from his mouth. "I let this maniac catch us. He somehow was able to perfectly imitate Ace, and now I'm stuck as his damn merchandise, and he's keeping you here as a hostage and for me to drink from. This whole situation is-" Drake wanted to yell. "If I ever get the fucking chance, I'm going to rip his smug head from his body."

When Lynette's heart rate spiked, he noticed the guttural growl in his vocal cords. He wasn't going to apologize for what he said. He meant it. 

It created silence between them. Usually, it was something Drake enjoyed. At the moment, it felt heavier, like his torn clothes, hair, limbs, and even the air pulled him to the ground. 

"I'm just glad you're not alone," Lynette said. His ears felt the honesty past her fear. 

Drake winced—he thought the same. "You shouldn't have gotten involved." 

"Neither should you have."

Yet I did.

An encroaching heartbeat made his fangs tense together. It's that girl. He heard Victoria through the others whom he listened to all night.

It made Andras's words flood his mind.

"However, starting tomorrow, you and your battery will be getting your work cut out for you. I expect you to have at least five to ten clients daily." [...] "Until you make up for all that precious time I lost not having you."

I can't do that. I'll go insane. It's only midnight. Drake masked his panic with anger. His eyes darted across the room to Lynette. He barely pulled back yesterday. He couldn't imagine it being a repetitive cycle.

"If either of you," Victoria said with a slight irritation, "move in a way I don't like, I'm covering your 'home' in fire." She gestured to the cells she stepped in front of it. "And I only think one of you guys will survive being a crisp."

He could feel Lynette's frustration. They both remained still as Victoria opened the gates and walked in. Drake contained his reflexes. He knew Andras had little purpose for Lynette, so Victoria's threat wasn't a bluff. 

Her boots thumped with each step. 

"Turn around." She ordered. 

He did so. 

She roughly snapped them shut and made sure he was held with his arms behind himself. He pulled at the dampeners, much like their cell. They drained the user of energy when they used magic. 

Given my defect, I'll probably be close to dying, if not dead. 

"Open your mouth." She instructed next.

Drake hesitated. He didn't want to feel the metal tendrils dig and squirm inside his mouth and throat again. Damn it. She moved the slightly luminescent metal piece closer.

"That hurts him," Lynette whispered. 

Don't be stupid. Drake knew she'd move. It was something he knew Lynette shared with a particular friend of his. The need to meddle. 

"LYNETTE." Drake snarled viciously. 

Victoria didn't seem to care since Lynette's movement was stopped. 

She put the item to Drake, and it activated. It broke into the tendrils and wrapped around the inside, clinging and tearing anything it could: teeth, flesh, even in the back of his throat. It barely left him enough room to breathe.

Victoria then flipped him around and made him march out of the cage, leaving the cell and Lynette behind. 

...

His mind tugged back and forth between his yearning for blood and logical thought—his instincts were winning. 

The promise of clarity after drinking blood tempted him as his energy dipped dangerously toward less functional levels. He balanced on the cusp of going rabid and making anyone his meal if he could. 

Until he was brought into the office. 

Andras sat on the front of his desk, facing the door where Drake entered. He seemed to be reading over some odd book missing its cover. 

As he glanced up, Andras put down his book and approached Drake. "You look in a lot better shape than before. Glad to see you're playing your role better." 

Drake's muscles started to flex with anticipation to end him.

Andras put his hand up and out to Drake's face. He got the part of the bar that had forced his jaw open and tore it out, tendrils and all. 

His bloody mouth soon healed, and he stared at Andras as it did. The tendrils shook themselves off and returned to the shape of a bar. "Since Drake has another client in two hours, why don't you go downstairs and get-" He scanned over Terrance, who still held Drake's arms. "On second thought, can you retrieve Zetsu to do it instead? He should be assisting a client a few doors down."

Terrance let Drake go, leaving him alone in the room with Andras.

"I hope one of these days I don't forget that Terrance eats humans," Andras muttered.

Without sparing another moment, Drake twisted his head and pushed himself to Andras so he could bite into him. 

...

Lynette

It wasn't a time for self-pity.

Not that I could focus on that. My mind was too busy running what happened hours ago, like reruns of a Christmas special. He couldn't have...he didn't even think twice.

I perked up at every noise and little shuffle. I assumed it might be someone bringing Drake back. 

I can't even remember what happened when he attacked me. The whole thing seemed to blur when I tried to think about it. 

I hope they bring him back. 

I didn't want to imagine Andras eating Drake the same way. He went through all that effort. He wouldn't kill Drake just like that. I chose to believe that. 

The faint ding from the elevator caught my attention. I used the wall to bring myself up. What's the point of getting up? I still did so. 

I can't do anything. This is different than with Claudia. I'm not going to get lucky for being reckless.

I softly took another breath and heard a voice beyond the bars.

"I'm sorry."

That's not Drake, Andras, or Victoria. Their sound was far too timid, almost like they held tears welling up in their eyes.

"Zetsu?"

I didn't receive a response right away, just the creak of the cell door. "Andras sent me to get you," he muttered.

"You don't sound like you want to do this," I replied. I followed his blob in the darkness. I couldn't fully discern it. 

He struggled to speak. "You seem nice."

I can't imagine how he feels. "And you don't seem bad either." Should I really think like this? He's working for them or was somehow.

He approached. I kept myself in place. He stood over me, and his fingers gently touched my shoulder. He was guiding me out of the cell. We walked down the corridor amidst murmurs from the others trapped in theirs. 

"I don't know what I want. I wanted to be free of him for so long. I thought it'd make me free..." His fingers dug slightly into my shoulder. I flinched. "I didn't even want Osiris to die. I just wanted him to stop."

All I knew was that Osiris worked with Andras to do this. There were undoubtedly countless others that Osiris might have tricked or forced into doing what he wanted.

'I just wanted him to stop.' What he said reintroduced a painful memory. "You didn't do it to him. Andras did." I said, through hurt breathes. It had been so many years, and my guilt, though settled, never truly left.

"I should have died, not him."

"No." I said sharply. I grabbed his hand. I don't know what he's done. Whether he's good or bad. He might be manipulating me. We're in trouble, so why do I care.

We neared the elevator. He wouldn't gain anything by saying this. Andras has us both. 

"You should find a way to leave," I said when we reached the elevator doors. It's what I wanted. I wanted to leave safe and sound with Drake. Yet...I can't leave these people down here. If we did escape, he'd relocate, right? Would they be able to find them? I can't even call Wicks. Can Wicks even find me? I didn't want him to. I don't want him to die trying to help me. 

Zetsu stirred me from my thoughts. "I can't." He put his hand on my back again.

The elevator door opened and blinded me. It was as if I were engaged in a staring match with the sun. It took thirty more seconds for my eyes to fully readjust, and I saw my reflection staring back at me. My clothes were slightly bloodied near my neck, my hair a frizzled mess of curls, and my face was dirtied from being on the ground. 

It'll only get worse. 

I attempted to fix what I could and glanced at the looming, scared figure. "You have more of a chance than me." The honesty tasted bitter. "Take it."

His stared at the floor, his words left without emotion. "I don't have enough power to leave alone."

...

Drake

He couldn't buck Andras off. The dealer sat on his back like he was a bench. He couldn't do anything but argue, until his senses made him tune in on the heartbeat, hers. It came closer, rising from the elevator shaft toward them.

And then his eyes locked onto her, he could feel his body pull toward her. He also saw Lynette react as well, unlike his initial eyes that never left her, she went out toward them.

Andras leaned forward, "don't worry, he's fine." Andras's hand patted Drake's head. "Don't be so hostile, you did this to yourself."

Drake snapped his head back and Andras smiled, "Get the hell off me."

"You don't want her to know do you?"

"That you made me believe in your lies?!" Drake painfully twisted his wrists, he wanted to break out form his shackles.

Andras worked up a chuckle, "those 'lies' made you happy though, didn't they?" He said. "You wanted to be be looked at like everyone else." He moved his hand by Drake's mouth, he snapped at it, Andras moved it away in time.

"But they only looked at you with pity. Poor Poor little flawless."

He struggled profusely and it made Andras leap up.

"I gave you a way out of that, one that you loved, remember?"

"SHUT UP!" Drake stumbled up to his feet, his cuffs kept his arms locked.

His focus wanted to drift, he sickeningly didn't let it. He refused to be part of this game. His own heart beat like it had been bruised. "I wasn't happy at all!" He shouted, less confidently, at the time he knew he was.

"You were," Andras took his chance to tease. He approached Drake, slowly. "So happy in fact you wanted my help to cut the only tie holding you back."

His vocal cords twinged and tightened. They wouldn't let him hum out a single word. He exhaled in response, his lips trembled before they pushed into one another.

Everything was quiet. The eyes fell on him. Their piercing gaze choked him and it sent him into a frantic haze.

He had forgotten why he held himself back.

He launched himself at Andras. He was powerless. His best idea was to smash his head into the dealer. At least to shut him up.

Andras moved his head to the side, and threw his hand up. It caught Drake's forehead and eyes. Andras made sure Drake's ear was at his lips.

"Wipe that guilt from your face," Andras snickered, "I can tell you still hate him, don't you?"

Andras curled his fingers tighter around Drake's face before he could answer. It felt like a clamp. Is he using enhancements? His eyes weren't glowing again.

"I missed your tenacity," he said, "so how about this. If you answer me honestly, we can work as a team again."

Fuck you. Drake wanted to say as his energy was being syphoned.

Andras's tone pulled Drake's ear, "all you have to do is tell me, Drake. Do you still want to kill, Alexander?"

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

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Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

[raointean]

RoP Celebration - Week 2: Places

I did a short little one-shot about Ost-in-Edhil! (I couldn't help myself from including some worldbuilding about the peredhil from my broken souls series, but you don't need to know anything about that to read this story)

-light, hard, impervious to the elements... it was perfect. Celebrimbor wondered at the sample of metal before him, newly separated from the raw ore. For years, he'd spent his free time attempting to find a way to make unenchanted weapons as long-lasting as enchanted ones, largely as part of his ongoing attempt to befriend the dwarves of Khazad-Dûm, but also to sate his own curiosity to see if it could be done.

Just as he turned to examine the final product under his magnifier, he heard something clatter to the ground. On the other side of the room was a small boy, hastily righting the small wooden figurine that had fallen over. The boy froze, a terrified look on his face, as he met Celebrimbor's gaze.

Where had he come from? Where were his parents? The boy couldn't have been more than 25 years old!

Silence stretched between them only for a moment before the child started to cry and apologize in heavily accented Sindarin. "I am so- sorry, sir! I didn't mean to! I just got lost and-"

"Peace, peace, winë." Celebrimbor interrupted. "I am not angry."

The child's tears seemed to slow with his reassurance, so Celebrimbor continued. "You have done no harm. Now, come. Where are your parents?"

The boy teared up again and wailed, "I don't know! I was separated from them in the streets and I saw this big tower and came to see if I could find them from the top of it! I was trying to find a window but I accidentally knocked over your doll instead..."

Celebrimbor bit back a laugh; that would help nobody. The child was clearly foreign and, given that he had become lost in such a clearly laid out city, had likely not been in Ost-in-Edhil for long. The child's atire held little in the way of clues, being simple traveling clothes- but there! His hair shifted just so to reveal one crooked ear.

The boy was peredhel!

Just that morning, a caravan of mostly peredhel nomads had entered the city and were set up in the marketplace. If the boy's parents were in the city, that would be the place to find them.

Gently, he reached out to the boy and picked him up. He was sturdier than an elfling at relatively the same age, but certainly not too heavy for Celebrimbor to carry. "I think I know where we can find your parents, winë. What is your name?"

The boy clung to Celebrimbor's tunic. "I am Raunroval, sir."

"Raunroval," Celebrimbor repeated. All was quiet as they made their way down the winding tower stairs, smooth-worn stone hardly making a sound under his feet. Raunroval's eyes took in the stones of the wall as they decended, each one carefully chosen and cut specifically for its place and role.

At last, they reached the ground level and Celebrimbor stepped out into the sunlight. Raunroval blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness and noise around them. Everywhere Celebrimbor looked were people. Elves and men flooded the streets, dwarves pushed their way through alleyways and open-air forges as they went about their business, children (both foreign and local) watched the craftsmen in fascination as windchimes, flowerpots, glass baubles, baskets, and so much more took shape before their very eyes.

As they walked towards the marketplace, Raunroval asked questions about just about everything he could set his eyes on, and Celebrimbor did his best to answer them all, but walking about his city at this time of day made him look about his city with fresh eyes.

Ost-in-Edhil meant "Fortress of the Eldar" because that is what it had been made to be (that, and dear cousin Galadriel had never been very good at coming up with creative names). Over time, however, the city had become more and more open to outsiders, first allowing them to set up shop outside the gates, then allowing them in, and finally, eventually, allowing them to attain citizenship in Eregion.

Lindon may have been the highest political power in Middle Earth, but Ost-in-Edhil had become its beating heart, the center of all trade West of the Misty Mountains.

Finally, they came to the marketplace. It had always been Celebrimbor's favorite place in the city: no matter the time of year, there was always something going on. During the cold months, when the roads were clogged with snow, making it inconvenient even for elves to stray far, local craftsmen held classes for prospective apprentices. During the warmer months however, the marketplace would be flooded with merchants from Khazad-Dûm and Lindon, as well as people who had sailed up the river Glanduin from Gondor, the Southlands, and even as far away as Harad!

In addition to all of these were the nomads who came every spring and fall like clockwork. In the spring, they brought bioluminescent yarn from their flocks of sheep, and in the fall, they traded wares from all across Middle Earth in exchange for food and provisions for the winter.

The most peculiar thing about them, though, was the fact that nearly all of these nomads were half elven (or some other mixture of the three kindreds, though half elven/half mannish hybrids seemed to be most common among them). Their kind had sprung up during the War of Wrath when Men and Elves were working closely together and, instead of joining with one kindred or another, they had struck out on their own.

Some, content to linger in the world and live their lives, had been familiar faces in Ost-in-Edhil from the day they had first been let into the city. Others, called by the mystery that lay beyond the bounds of the world, only came from a century or so before blowing away like mist on the wind.

Celebrimbor looked around the marketplace, searching for a panicked mother or a frantic father until, soon enough, he spotted a man hunting through the crowd, occasionally calling out, "Raunroval!"

Celebrimbor pointed him out to Raunroval. "Is that your father, winë?

Raunroval shaded his eyes and looked where Celebrimbor directed him. "Yes!" His face split into a blinding grin and he began squirming to get to the ground.

Celebrimbor tightened his grip, lest Raunroval became lost against amidst the sea of legs. "Careful now. I will bring you to your father quickly enough."

Shouldering his way through the crowd was not difficult. Most residents of Ost-in-Edhil recognized him as their lord and the others followed their lead and moved out of his way. The man spotted them while they were still a long way off, running to close the distance.

He skidded to a stop several feet away and gave a hasty bow, realizing who was holding his son. "Forgive me, my lord. I apologize for any trouble my son has caused you; he is very young."

For all his stiff manner and cold words, Celebrimbor could see the way his fingers twitched, wanting to grab his son right out of Celebrimbor's arms.

Celebrimbor didn't hold him in suspense for long. He set Raunroval down and offered his hand in friendship. "There is no need for forgiveness, good sir. Your son has done no harm, and Ost-in-Edhil is an open city to all, including the young.

@the-southlands

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Felix is sick after flying

Firstly, I just wanna say that I'm sleep deprived as shit.

Secondly, I wanna say i'm so excited for the Sunday Sickness thing proposed by our whump fic queen (@bellysoupset)

Lastly, I love this one. These two are adorable ❤️❤️❤️!!

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

Atticus kept looking at his watch. He was impatient and fidgety as he waited by the airport gate for his boyfriend.

Felix had gone to visit his mom in London, and he’d been gone for two whole weeks. Atticus missed him a lot.

He tapped his foot and tapped his fingers. Finally, people started walking through the gate. He watched carefully, trying to spot his short boyfriend in the sea of people. And then he spotted him.

Felix saw him, too, and ran to him, dropping his suitcase and backpack halfway there before throwing himself into Atticus’s waiting arms.

Atticus squeezed Felix and Felix laughed.

“I missed you,” Atticus said.

“Really?” Felix said. “Because every single text you sent me and every single phone call didn’t make that clear.”

Atticus blushed and pulled away enough to look Felix in the eye before leaning back in and pressing a long, loving kiss to his lips. Felix’s hands tangled in his hair, and he pulled the blonde tighter against himself.

Finally, they got Felix’s stuff—Atticus being the gentleman he is and carrying it all—and they went to the parking lot and left the airport.

The airport was two hours away from their apartment, and after about thirty minutes on the road, Atticus noticed Felix dozing off in his seat. He wasn’t surprised. It was only early in the night there—the sun had just set—but he knew it was well past midnight in London and Felix was still on London time.

Atticus turned down his music on the radio so his boyfriend could sleep in peace.

He drove in silence, listening to the sound of Felix’s breathing. When they were just twenty minutes away, Felix started to stir in his sleep. He blinked awake and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Atticus cast a look at him. “You okay?”

Felix nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah. I think it’s just some delayed air sickness or something.”

Raising a brow, Atticus asked, “Is that a thing?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? You’re the medicine major, aren’t you?” Felix groaned again. “Since when are the roads in Tucson so bumpy?”

Atticus cast a confused look at Felix. The roads aren’t bumpy, he thought. “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

Felix shook his head. “No,” he said. Then he paused, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. “Actually, yes.”

Atticus’s eyes widened. “Shit. Okay, there’s a gas station right here. Just give me a second to—”

But it was too late. Saliva flooded Felix’s mouth and the Coca-Cola he’d drank on the plane ride came back up in a slow, painful gush.

Atticus cursed under his breath as he pulled into the gas station parking lot and put the car in park before cupping Felix’s forehead to steady him as he puked.

“You’re okay, baby,” he said. “You’re okay.”

Felix wasn’t puking anymore. Two gushes, and he was done. Now he realized what a mess he’d made of his pants and his boyfriend’s car.

He was about to apologize, but it was as if Atticus was reading his mind because the brunette suddenly said, “It’s fine. My car is old as hell, and it’s way overdo for a cleaning anyway.”

After another minute, Felix told Atticus he was fine.

Atticus knew that Felix didn’t get carsick. This was something else.

He went inside the gas station to get some plastic bags, and then they were on the road again.

“We’ll be home soon. Don’t worry,” he said when Felix made a pained sound.

Felix closed his eyes and tried not to focus on the movement of the car. His head was pounding, but this didn’t feel like one of his migraines. He didn’t know what this felt like.

It felt like forever before the car came to a stop, but Felix didn’t even notice the car was parked until Atticus said his name and he opened his eyes. He still felt like the car was moving on a bumpy road.

“Hey, Baby,” Atticus said softly, reaching out a hand to cup Felix’s cheek. “What’s wrong? You look pale. You’re sweaty, too.”

“Am I feverish?”

Atticus narrowed his eyes a bit and continued to feel Felix’s cheek and forehead. “Actually, no,” he said. “You feel clammy, but not warm.”

Felix involuntarily leaned further into Atticus’s touch, eyes closing again. “I’m dizzy.”

Atticus used his thump to stroke Felix’s hair for a minute before finally getting out of the car and going around to Felix’s side. The blonde’s eyes were overly shiny, and he looked exhausted. “Jeez,” Atticus sighed. “You were fine at the airport. What happened?” Maybe it was an ear infection, throwing Felix off balance. Immediately, Atticus fell into a mental state that was stuck between concerned boyfriend and talented med-student. “Does it feel like there’s pressure in your head? Or your ear? Or is this some kind of migraine?”

Felix didn’t answer. He just leaned against Atticus’s shoulder. “Everything’s moving,” he whined. Atticus frowned. He couldn’t help but feel worried.

“Come on,” Atticus said. “Let’s go inside.”

Felix groaned once more as Atticus unbuckled his seatbelt and guided him out of the car. As soon as he was on his feet, he swayed. Atticus quickly steadied him and cursed under his breath.

Before Felix knew it, his boyfriend had picked him up bridal style and was carrying him into the apartment building.

Atticus’s apartment was on the first floor, so they were inside it in no time.

“Maybe you should’ve taken me to my dorm,” Felix said while burying his face in Atticus’s shirt. “If I’m sick, I don’t want to make you sick.”

Atticus looked down at the blonde as he carried him into his bedroom. “But wouldn’t you make your roommate sick then?”

“Oh, screw that bloody wanker. I hate him and I don’t give two shits if he gets sick or not. He annoys the hell out of me.”

Atticus was tempted to say that he should move in with him in that case, but he kept himself from doing so. He wasn’t sure whether or not they’d been together long enough to take that step, even though Felix was practically almost always at his place anyway.

He brought Felix into his bathroom and steadied him on his feet before handing the blonde a clean shirt and some sweatpants. He waited outside the bathroom, giving Felix privacy to change. Finally, Felix opened the bathroom door, leaning heavily on the door frame. Atticus picked him up again and carried him to his bed.

He laid Felix down and pulled the sheets over him.

Felix made a pained noise in his throat and shifted a lot, trying to find a position that didn’t make it feel like the world was rocking wildly on a boat.

Atticus sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Felix’s hair. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t have the patience at the moment to read through his medicine textbooks to see if he could find anything.

Finally, he pulled out his phone and opened a website he used a lot for research on his papers and essays. He searched up delayed airsickness and sicknesses commonly gotten on planes and whatever else he could think to search up.

He was researching for so long that Felix finally found the least uncomfortable of the uncomfortable positions and was trying to keep himself as still as possible with his eyes squeezed shut.

Finally, Atticus found something.

“Hey, baby?” he said softly. Felis peeked one eye open ever so slightly, indicating that he was listening. “What does it feel like?”

Felix shut his eye again and sighed. “It feels like I’m on a boat or something. I’m really dizzy, Atti.”

Atticus nodded. “Are you nauseous?”

Felix nodded his head a little bit.

“Tired? Like, fatigue?”

Another nod.

“Cognitive impairment?”

Felix opened his eyes and peered at Atticus, a brow raised. “What the bloody hell is. . . whatever it is you said?”

“It’s, like, when you can’t focus. Or have trouble concentrating.”

Felix shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Atticus nodded. “I think you have disembarkment syndrome. It’s not serious—it’s just motion sickness and vertigo that comes after a plane ride—but I think sleep would do you a world of good. This says it’s best of you stay really still, and it also says that it should only last about 24 hours.”

Felix’s brows furrowed. “Only?!”

Atticus chuckled, most of his anxiety leaving his shoulders. “Hey, it’s better than some week-long bug or something. And the treatment is literally to just stay lying down until it passes. Which means”—he paused as he walked around the bed, climbing onto his side and snuggling close to Felix, hugging him tight—“we have 24 hours of cuddling ahead of us.”

Felix couldn’t help it. He smiled at his giant teddy bear of a boyfriend.

In Atticus’s arms, Felix felt slightly steadier. He cuddled closely to Atticus, letting his eyes fall shut and falling into the sleep that his body was begging for.

“Atti?” Felix groaned sleepily after a second.

“Hmm?”

Felix smiled. “I missed you, too.”

[bookishfeylin]

I would LOVE to hear your opinions on Calanmai, actually. To me, the scene was so frustrating mainly because Feyre is told multiple times to simply not go outside, and people always use that as an excuse for her… going outside because they didn’t tell her a reason why so it’s just chalked up as her having natural “human curiosity”. But then she gets into trouble, and after she’s saved that boundary is reestablished, but… she still decides to leave and it’s no longer her “human curiosity” driving her, but her jealousy??? That Tamlin will be having sex with other people under no control of his own??? So she goes out to find Tamlin in hopes that… what? Something would happen??? Hello? Like, I think it was Lucien that explains to her that since Tamlin is attracted to her he’d try and seek her out or something, but that doesn’t stop her. Which, huh? Tamlin doesn’t want her going out to avoid this specific situation, and yet she completely disregards that.

As for Tamlin, I always saw Calanmai as sexual assault for the person participating in it, especially since we find out that Tamlin doesn’t even want to do it??? Hello??? Not to mention that this magic is not the same as being drunk, it’s literally a possession by some “entity” that quite literally forces you to seek out and have sex with the next thing that moves. Hello??? He literally… has no choice at all. Which was honestly disgusting to read because it doesn’t come under any questioning within text. But at the same time during the bite we see him garner some type of self control and tells her to leave… so he can control himself to some degree??? He just wanted to teach her some sort of lesson??? Like tf dude? Hello? Management? I’d like to file a complaint.

When I first read this scene as a young teen not understanding the world, I always blamed Feyre because she was told multiple times not to leave, but she still… fucking left. Especially in hopes that something would happen, and when something did happen she blamed him, as if she wasn’t warned. But I’m older and less stupid now, and I just blame the author now for even WRITING this scene, cause it’s EVERYONE getting assaulted under no scrutiny or critique in the text on why Calanmai is assault for Tamlin, and WHY the fuck she would write Feyre as “wanting” Tamlin in that moment of her assault (I’m noticing this pattern with Feyre for some reason, why does this woman keep writing Feyre as “wanting” her assaulter in the moment in which she is/was getting assaulted???).

The only thing I liked about this scene is that Tamlin was rightfully called out for his behavior. Feyre made no excuses for him, and he had to apologize. Loved that. Even Lucien gives him flack for it which is more than anyone has ever given Dark Daddy Rhys. Curious to hear your thoughts.

Oh nonny, you have opened the flood gates, because boy do I have FEELINGS about the Calanmai scene.

To start with, I've always had mixed feelings about it, mainly due to what you already said, but then I read this post by @longsightmythyth and it complicated things even more for me.

I feel like, to analyze the Calanmai scene, we need to be mindful of multiple things:

1- what the text explicitly says about Calanmai

2- Tamlin and Feyre's reactions during and after the Calanmai scene

3- that this scene, regardless of how we feel about it, was intended by Sarah to be a red flag

So first, let's review what is established about Calanmai per canon.

“We do this by conducting the Great Rite. Each of the seven High Lords of Prythian performs this every year, since their magic comes from the earth and returns to it at the end—it’s a give-and-take.”

“Tonight, Tam will allow … great and terrible magic to enter his body,” Lucien said, staring at the distant fires. “The magic will seize control of his mind, his body, his soul, and turn him into the Hunter. It will fill him with his sole purpose: to find the Maiden. From their coupling, magic will be released and spread to the earth, where it will regenerate life for the year to come.” My face became hot, and I fought the urge to fidget. “Tonight, Tam won’t be the faerie you know,” Lucien said. “He won’t even know his name. The magic will consume everything in him but that one basic command—and need.”

“You’re lucky I found you when I did, though,” he said. “Because he would have smelled you, and claimed you, but it wouldn’t have been Tamlin who brought you into that cave.”

It made me sick—the thought of Tamlin forcing me, that magic could strip away any sense of self, of right or wrong.

These are all from ACOTAR, chapter 21.

To recap: all seven High Lords are SUPPOSED to do Calanmai (but Sarah promptly forgets this piece of worldbuilding when ACOMAF rolls around <insert angry rant about retcons here>). The magic enters and takes control of the High Lord's body, apparently overpowering the Lord's consciousness and forcing the Lord to have sex with someone it's the rapey vibes for meeeeeeeee to generate enough magic to rejuvenate the land, because, as I discussed in this post, we are told that High Lord isn't just a title--it involves a deep, psychic connection to the court itself, which is why Feyre's title as High Lady is an empty title. Calanmai involves possession by a foreign entity, as you said. This brings up all kinds of ethical questions about consent, because... what if the High Lord doesn't want to do it? Being possessed and forced to have sex is WILDLY violating at the BEST of times. This is also why it bothers me when, in ACOWAR, Tamlin is vilified for not wanting to do Calanmai. It's still wrong that Lucien had to do it and was raped by Ianthe, mind you, but should Tamlin have been forced to have sex he didn't want to have? Should he? Calanmai is very icky all around, and for a series claiming to be about abuse and SA and mental health and whatnot, it's downright disgusting.

At any rate... so Calanami consists of a High Lord being possessed and made to have sex with someone. Prior to Calanmai occurring, and knowing that, whilst controlled by magic, he would likely have sex with her, Tamlin specifically tells Feyre he does not want to interact with her during Calanmai and he tells her to stay away from him.

“And I’m not invited to your ceremony?” “No. You’re not.” He clenched and loosened his fingers, again and again, as if trying to keep the claws contained. (ACOTAR Chapter 19)

“Just do it.” His canines began to lengthen. My heart leaped into a gallop. “Don’t come out until morning.” ... He lifted a hand as if to touch my arm. But he lowered it before his fingers could graze the fabric of my tunic. “Stay in your chamber, Feyre.” “But I—” “Please.” (ACOTAR Chapter 20)

So Tamlin DOES NOT CONSENT TO NOR DOES HE WANT the infamous Calanmai scene to occur, contrary to popular belief. Although he's too embarrassed to explicitly state what occurs on Calanmai (given he's starting to grow feelings for Feyre at this point in the book), he still sets a clear boundary with Feyre that he asks her not to cross. Meanwhile, prior to the Calanmai scene, Feyre is upset that she's not invited to the ceremony, before ultimately going anyway. Because screw boundaries, I guess. Feyre is found by Rhysand+Lucien, given full details about Calanmai in chapter 21, and then heads back to her room.

Right after the ceremony is over, Feyre, jealous that Tamlin had sex with someone else, leaves her room again to get food. This time, the violation of Tamlin's boundary--stay away from me until morning--is UNINTENTIONAL, because although she is jealous, she doesn't leave for the express purpose of finding Tamlin and joining in on the fun like she did originally. She just wants a cookie. And then the Calanmai scene actually happens. The real question, of who's "at fault" for Calanmai, and whether or not it counts as a red flag, truly depends on whether or not Tamlin was possessed at the time. Tumblr won't allow me to copy and paste the whole thing into this post (or a separate one, for that matter) so I recommend opening ACOTAR Chapter 21 and rereading the entire scene in its entirety, because there were a few lines from this scene that I thought were important:

"His voice was not entirely of this world."

"He reeked of magic. When I looked into his eyes, remnants of power flickered there. No kindness, none of the wry humor and gentle reprimands. The Tamlin I knew was gone."

"Still riding the magic, he was half-wild."

Based on these lines of text, and Tamlin's instructions to remain in her room until morning, specifically, and not until after the ceremony, it seems that it takes the magic several hours to fully leave its host's body, and that Tamlin was still possessed somewhat when this scene occurred. So I disagree with you slightly, anon--Tamlin isn't biting Feyre to teach her a lesson or be spiteful. If I am reading this scene correctly, it appears that Tamlin is attempting to wrestle back control of his body from the magic, and that he only succeeds in doing so at the end of the scene, which is when he pulls away. Aside from the very end, it seems safe to say that Tamlin is still possessed at this point in time. (Hence, Feyre's narration saying "the Tamlin I knew was gone.") Afterwards, Tamlin is upset because he did not consent to that occurring whilst he was possessed, nor did he want that to occur.

“I bit her,” Tamlin said, not pausing as he cut his steak. “We ran into each other in the hall after the Rite.” I straightened in my chair. “She seems to have a death wish,” he went on, cutting his meat. The claws stayed retracted but pushed against the skin above his knuckles. My throat closed up. Oh, he was mad—furious at my foolishness for leaving my room—but somehow managed to keep his anger on a tight, tight leash. “So, if Feyre can’t be bothered to listen to orders, then I can’t be held accountable for the consequences.” ... “While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room,” Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair (ACOTAR Chapter 22)

That being said, I still think this is a very rude thing to say, boundaries crossed or not, and I'm glad he apologized. @longsightmyth, who wrote the Calanmai post I mentioned earlier, argues that this scene is correctly interpreted as Feyre taking advantage of Tamlin, given the text is clear he's still possessed during the scene ("the Tamlin I knew was gone"), and given his lack of consent, along with taking steps to keep Feyre away from him. I respectfully disagree, though. To me, this scene reads like them BOTH being taken advantage of. While we can argue about the stupidity of Feyre leaving her room all day, Feyre clearly did not want to get bitten and was quite upset about it later on, and Tamlin did not want Feyre to interact with him, revoked his consent for her doing so, and took steps to keep her away from him. They're both being taken advantage of here--but not by each other, by magic. This whole scene is quite literally the fault of the magic possessing Tamlin.

And for this reason, I can't say I view this scene as a red flag or an indictment of Tamlin's character. Tamlin has other red flags, as I elaborated on in this and this post, but now that I've spent several days thinking everything over so that I could answer you, anon, I don't think Calanmai counts as one of those red flags. While it's clear this is Sarah attempting to parallel a drunk man sexually assaulting a woman, this isn't that--it's straight up possession, being forced by an outside entity to act a certain way. And there's no real world parallel for possession, regardless of what Sarah thinks.

That, too, explains why I think this series fails to properly discuss abuse as a theme. It is very hard to apply real-world morals about red flags and abuse to a fantasy series where your magic explodes out of you when you get emotional and when the magic possesses you once a year and makes you have sex. You just... can't.

At any rate, I hope this answer was satisfying, nonny! And I'm sorry this took so long for me to answer. I hope the length of my response made up for it :)

[vickyvicarious]

I think the letter DID look sus to some olden readers too, given how the "Hawkins" in Nosferatu deliberately sends "Jonathan" to become prey for his own gain. So it's another interpretation to me :p

Though canonically I think Mr Hawkins cared about Jonathan but, like you said, he was likely very much an employer and not openly fatherly. Jonathan's reaction to the praise indeed seems like he doesn't get it that often. Mina did say that Mr Hawkins only treated Jonathan like a son now at the end of his life. And neither of them expected to be in his will! And Jonathan at the hospital "writes" very professionally to him (pretty much "I apologize for the delay, however, I got the job done"). But despite that, Jonathan was attached to him emotionally (see his "second father" when he is sure he's going to die).

(sorry I tapped send before I could clarify that the first paragraph refers to Nosferatu!)

Oh yeah, it's definitely possible to read Hawkins' letter as ominous/sketchy. I just am really attached to Hawkins' and Jonathan's relationship, so it doesn't occur to me to go there unless I try. But it's not a giant leap to make based off this letter! I am not familiar with Nosferatu myself (or more film adaptations actually) but I think there's a lot to play with in making this relationship too more using Jonathan.

Anyways, back to Hawkins and Harker... I agree with you. I think they both put on a professional attitude with one another and it really was only internally that they expressed how much they actually cared. So Jonathan isn't used to seeing much praise from Hawkins, and would never think to ask for it/initiate emotional exchanges, but he has worked decently closely with him for a while. I feel like even with Mina he might not say anything about just how much care he has for Mr. Hawkins outside of "he's a very good boss and I admire him a lot," because I think even expressing such a feeling one-sidedly and in private would feel like he is overstepping. (But I imagine she'd still be able to tell based on how he talks about him/how proud he gets when Mr. Hawkins entrusts him with a new responsibility or whatever.)

I personally think Mr. Hawkins probably has thought of Jonathan quite fondly for a while now, but not in a way he'd be comfortable expressing openly. He remains professional and just a boss interested in fostering talent, and if he privately pays more attention to how Jonathan is doing than he would someone else, no one has to (gets to) know. But even though he has felt warmly towards him, a lot of his actions later on in the book are motivated by guilt and loneliness. I do like to imagine that Hawkins sometimes thought of eventually entrusting the firm to Jonathan if he proved himself over time, but the speed at which it happened was dictated strongly by his guilt that he had sent Jonathan on that trip and whatever happened out there all but destroyed him. Add in the fact that Hawkins was getting extremely sick (and thus likely more sentimental as he neared his own death), possibly to an unexpected degree since gout alone wasn't usually fatal... Basically I feel like he went all-in very quickly on 'making it up to' Jonathan as well as opening the flood-gates of treating him like a son and being much more demonstrative with his care. Because, after all, Jonathan was such a good kid and he really didn't have anyone else in his life based on the funeral attendance. He wanted to leave this world with some kind of family at his side. Not to say his feelings of love weren't genuine, but they would not have been expressed that way under normal circumstances (and he might not have even realized how much he cared until Jonathan had been missing for a while). I bet it felt like a very abrupt change to come home to, but a welcome one. The kind of thing Jonathan might daydream about if he ever let himself go there, but which he would never actually expect in reality.

But pre-castle... yeah, I envision it all as quite professional on the surface on both ends.

[shojislady]

2. PISSBABY TSUKISHIMA

"BYE MA!! LOVE YOU TOO! SEE YOU AFTER SCHOOL!" y/n screamed out as she shut the door behind her. today was the day that y/n started school at karasuno high. she wasn't nervous, not at all. y/n never had any trouble making friends. she was an outgoing person and was easy to get along with.

(lol imagine)

beginning her walk to school, she decided to text the group chat to see how everyone was doing. the gc was originally made by the twins and y/n for chaotic reasons, but sooner or later they actually used the group chat for important reasons like planning or just occasionally checking up on each other.

'i miss them, but I'm gon beat them up when i see them. wanna act all tough cuz I'm 10 ½ hours away. just wait till i visit them.' y/n thought.

this is basically the format for each conversation that happens. y/n going into the group chat to check up on everyone to make sure they're okay, then the twins start ganging up on her until kyoya gets annoyed and tells them to stfu because he's trying to relax and he can't silence his phone. it was funny because when they got back to school, she would pretend like nothing ever happened and continued to flirt with kyoya.

"oh, there's the school!" she pointed out to literally no one. there were a bunch of students flooding in the gate. "gauh LEE.. that's a lot of damn people.”

she continued her slow pace to the school, not really caring about what time she got there, as long as she was before lunch. she was gonna be a bit late, either way, seeing as she had to go to the front office for her schedule.

"well, time to go beast mode." #alpha

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

"All right Ms. l/n, welcome to our class! go sit behind yamaguchi. Yams! raise ur hand!" the teacher yelled out. y/n had gotten to school on time, but joined the rest of the students during their third class, since the VP took her on a small tour of the school after giving her the schedule.

she scanned through the sea of students to see a timid-looking boy raising his hand. he was cute, and looked to be a few inches taller than y/n. he had freckles and a nice mop of green hair standing on top of his head. if his face was red, he'd be a human strawberry.

with her black and blonde faux locs swaying behind her, she went to sit in her newly designated seat behind the boy who was now known as yamaguchi. she pulled out a notebook and opened it to a blank page, which was deemed useless seeing that she had already learned what was being taught.

bored, she pulled out her headphones, opening spotify, she pulled up her chill playlist, she clicked shuffle play, smiled, and relaxed a bit seeing the first song that came up. it was ' Big Poppa - the notorious b.i.g'. it was one of her favorite songs to chill to.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

"hey, it's time for science... " was what y/n heard as she removed her headphones. it was yams, telling her that it's time for the next subject.

now that she had the slight chance to talk to him, she decided to say what had been on her mind for when she saw him.

"thanks. y'know, you're really cute by the way. you look like someone i'd accidentally bump into in the street and u'd apologize and i'd say "no really its all my fault" then start talking to much cuz i got nervous. that's a compliment by the way."

'...what?' yams was shocked yet confused. he wasn't used to out of the blue compliments like that, or really at all. especially not from girls, and a really attractive one at that. but aside from the initial shock, why the fuck was it so specific and detailed?

"oh! uhm- thank you! you're really pretty yourself!"

"thank you! and thanks for waking me up! wanna be friends?"

"oh, no problem. and sure!! "

'that was odd...' tadashi thought to himself as he turned to face front. "damn, that was quick, yamaguchi" his childhood friend, tsukishima, teased. "im surprised you didn't stutter ur ass off.”

tsukishima kei was a very tall individual. he had short, blonde hair and was more on the thinner, lanky side.

"oh piss off tsuki, ur just mad that i talked to the pretty new girl before you, loser." yams shot back.

(bozo😹👎🏽 take this L tsuki🤡 )

"whatever😒😒"

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

"hi yams! hi yams' friend! what are we doing now?" y/n asked. the bell had just rung, and y/n was too lazy to pull out her schedule.

"hi l/n! this is tsukishima! its lunchtime right now so we're heading to the cafeteria!!" he replied with a small smile on his face.

"BOOO!! the cafeteria sucks ass. that's why I always ate in the club room." y/n complained with a big ole thumbs down.

although she was pretty extroverted, she didn't like all the extra loud noise and nosy people. there are some hating ass hoes back at Ouran, but she couldn't give less of a fuck. all they ever did was talk shit because they were jealous of her relationship with the hosts, but she knew it was part of the deal when she became friends with them.

"wah wah, cry me a river. either sit with us or not, jeez." blabbered smart- ass tsuki.

"actually, you're in luck! we and a few others are all going to meet and eat lunch in the gym to go over some stuff for our club, you can join if you want!" yams offered.

she happily accepted the offer and continued to walk along with them to the cafeteria, then to the gym where they would eat. they stopped by the vending machine for y/n, because her thirsty ass drank all her water before lunch, now craving a nice refreshing beverage to wash down the curry she's about to fuck up.

after a few more short minutes of walking, they had finally reached the gym and heard arguing coming from the inside, not knowing that the moment she steps into that gym, she'd be going on a wild trip.

taglist: open and empty

guys.. dont be mad at me ik i missed my deadline☹️☹️

but im thinkin..

should i still write the beach episode for ouran? i have a few ideas for it but idk..

LEMME GO UPDATE THE OTHER BOOK

[thotsforvillainrights]

Miss ma'am, sorry to bother you, but i HAVE to request some fatgum and all for one , ive recently gotten their pins from piebald pins (the lil melted ice cream ones) and cannot stop imagining how would they react if they saw you wearing it!

Lots of love, my dear! 🧸❤️

(You are absolutely not bothering me! Without asks, this would be a blog of me just rambling on senseless borderline thirsty posts about villains. Asks make the world go round even when I don't get to them as often as I'd like to! Anyway, I can do All for One but I have to leave out fatgum since it's a villain blog. Sorry about that!)

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

Given this universe, I don't imagine it's a surprise you were able to come across something like this.

Villains getting merch made for them here and there was something to be expected, but didn't come to be widely known until after Stain had come and gone. It was like flood gates had opened up. Suddenly you weren't just able to find a single thing here and there on the black market. No, now you were able to even find villain keychains or shirts in small convenience stores despite the negative reaction from most people in society. That's what led to you being able to get your hands on the small pin you'd found rummaging through a plastic sale bin at a local store nearby. When you saw it, the smile that spread across your face didn't leave until you made it home so you can properly examine the pin. "Oh yeah, this is definitely it." You smiled again as you adjusted it upon your chest. Time ticked down on the clock until it was time to meet in the dining room for dinner. You waltzed right into the room and proudly took a seat at the table. About a minute or two later he entered the room. "My apologies for being late dearest, I was originally intending to make it before you but had some loose ends to tie up." He adjusted his tie and took a seat with you at the table. You could barely contain your chuckles when he'd paused immediately upon noticing the pin on your suit.

"Dear...where on Earth did you manage to find something like that?" You finally started laughing as he moved closer to examine the pin. His confusion alone was enough to make you laugh for quit a while. It was rare you were able to get that reaction out of him but every time you were successful in doing so, it was a rewarding feeling nonetheless. "You have a very peculiar sense of style for this one." He tapped the pin on your shirt. "However, I suppose it isn't my place to judge. At the very least, try to find something more impressive on your part. I can't be considered the true king of the underworld with merchandise as silly as that." He chuckled lightly. "Oh you wish. I'll be on the hunt for something new soon. just wait and see." You teased him.

[urboymutual]

i think i unfollowed you and refollowed like three times while trying to send this but anyway: fave eddie headcanons please

Funniest images ever...

but hiiii hmm my eddie headcanons: okay so like eddito is usually what pepa calls him but in my heart she calls him lalo bc idk Ive never really heard of eddito in the spanish communities im in it was always like lalo or guayo so i support pepa and buck calling him lalo like how eddie has tht specialness of calling buck evan

alos ive talked abt it a bit with a few anons but i really support eddie being proud of his mexican hertiage and also being as annoying on purpose abt it . i want funny scene where hen and chimney and eddie are like all agreeing on something (lowkey universal poc thing) and buck is like "i disagree" and they all just look at each ofher and are like "buck thats racist" and hes like freaking out like - woah guys im sorry i didnt know and eddie just gives him a teasing smile and kisses him on the cheek to apologize ummm a

im like sleep depreived so im def going to edit this post more when i sleep but i also like idea that in high school (idk if other high school have it) he was in the mariachi band bc again embracing his heritage but also his mom made him do it (ALMOST HAPPENES TO ME...) and he looked very dorky in the outfits buck prints out the pictures and post them around the firehouse... (sorry buck and eddie sre a package . cant have one with out the other)

ummm also i fhink him and buck and christopher - Oh my god i cant finish my thought rn because john wayne by lady gaga is playing and ik thinking about hik in a cowboy outfit . bitinf my fist. honestly . 😵‍💫 i think he shouldve also participated in rodeo... like i dont know el paso cowboy scene but this is my headcanon i do what i want. and what i want is them to give me episode where they go to umm i think they called jaripeo (its a rodeo and theirs also dancing men usually wear cowboy hats) and i want buck and eddie to dance like THIS!!!

Oh my god im literally spiraling i have sooo many ideas . and thiughts uve opened a flood gate... i got distracted at looking at cowboy boots but i think saint christopher or cheesy flame cowboys would be soooo slay of him.. anyways um

my original thought is i think it wohld be funny if eddie christopher snd buck went to one of those like amusement parks or smthin where they do uhh those air spray shirts? i cant think of it but eddie shirt

also hes mixed which gives me sooo many syndromes becauses hes just like me and 😵‍💫😵‍💫 like i know the writers just dont know how to write a latine character but the idea he doesnt talk abt being mexican much and maybe doesnt even identify as mexican (in the show hes said "my fathers from mexico and my moms Swedish") bc like that connection was barely there in his childhood bc of his father being gone. Absent fathers... 😞😞 Like le metaphorical severing of an  umbilical cord of culture...

anyways this getting sooo long but he do be waking christopher up bright and esrly in the morning to go to swap meets in la (another hc of mine HSHDH)

I might add more to this when im lucid and not so 👹👹👹