#▸── I HAVE YOU IN MY HEART -- IN EVERY BREATH I TAKE // VISAGE -- FRIENDS.

[iovetecchou]

My Heart ⧸ Bram Stoker

༞ Contains...! a pinch of fluff, angst and smut (holy shit), unintentionally plot-heavy, strangers to friends to lovers, realization of feelings, being in denial of said feelings (from bram), confessions, self-loathing (from bram), reader offering bram the love he deserves! consent, kissing, making out, nipple play, soft touches, praise, needy!reader, oral (receiving... obviously, considering that- nvm) face sitting...

Bram uses "mo chroí" as a term of endearment for the reader, which essentially translates to "my heart" the title of this fic- woah, shocker!

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 5,873 words.

"Y/N, get my boots!"

"Y/N, where is my lunch?"

"Y/N! I don't have all day, you know."

This charade was getting old.

You were at Fukuchi's beck and call. His little servant and it made you sick. You didn't choose this life for yourself— no, you never would have done this to yourself.

You were a Hunting Dog at one point, but it felt so long since your glory days. The moment you witnessed what Fukuchi did to your former colleague— Tachihara, your fate was sealed.

You had two options: join the Decay of Angels or die, like all the sorry souls before you— and all the ones to come.

Well, you chose the former. But being a part of the Decay of Angels is not what you pictured. You were a glorified secretary to Fukuchi. You had to tuck your tail between your legs day in and day out.

Swallow your pride and follow orders.

You loathed it with every fiber of your being. However, you would be lying if you said nothing good came out of this arrangement.

There was Bram, your last-ditch effort for hope.

You hadn't thought much of the strange coffin Fukuchi hauled around. The same casket that inevitably caused chaos. You knew it couldn't be the coffin but rather— what was inside the tattered wooden box that caused disarray.

One day, curiosity got the better of you. Fukuchi was in his living quarters, presumably resting as you finished your tedious paperwork for the day. It was already past midnight by the time you finished up.

You stood up from your desk, stretching your limbs before trekking toward Fukuchi's office. Usually, you would place the paperwork atop his desk and then go on your merry way. That is what Fukuchi permitted you to do, at least. But tonight was… different.

That unruly coffin propped up against the furthest wall in the darkest corner of his office caught your eye. Most people who worked under Fukuchi's thumb would not have given it a second glance.

But you? You could not take your eyes off it.

The gold cross plating that decorated the outside of the coffin caught the light the second you creaked the office door open. The glimmering plating caught your eye. Beckoning you to come closer- drawing you in.

Before your brain could catch up, your feet carried forward, inching closer toward that dimly lit corner. All you could think of was, what could be inside that tattered box? That same question flickered in your mind for weeks, and you were finally about to get your answer.

Your trembling fingertips grazed over the smooth finish on the casket. They danced over the golden cross before trailing lower. Your persparated palms felt each flank of the coffin before you found the groove you were skimming for.

You took a sharp intake of breath. Fukuchi would kill you if he saw you right now. You thought, before diminishing that idea from your mind. Face it, he was going to kill you eventually. So you might as well continue with your plan. You got this far. There was no turning back.

It took all your might to drag the weighty wooden door of the coffin open. But once you did, your breath hitched.

It was… a man? A pretty one at that. This strange man was most definitely sleeping. He had prominent veins running along his lashline, you noted. His hair was pure white, long, and all out of place, nearly covering half of his visage. He also had two identical scars adorning his pallid cheeks.

He was mesmerizing, statuesque.

Maybe this man was artificial? He was as still as could be, and you found it tricky to disclose if he was breathing. There was no rise and fall of his chest, no warmth radiating from his frame. You could not control the way your fingers rose to his form. Ghosting over his face, only a few centimeters away from grazing his cheek.

"Who are you?"

A gruff voice pulled you out of your trance. You stumbled back, watching in disbelief as the mysterious man before you opened his lids, revealing the most bewitching crimson eyes. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you struggled to find the words to respond to him.

"Hey… I asked you a question."

The alluring man before you sounded more annoyed this time. His eyes never once left yours. It intimidated you more than you would have liked to admit.

"I'm nobody, really! I'm sorry for disturbing you—I'll be going now."

You babbled, smoothing your shirt down nervously before turning on your heel. You wanted nothing more than to leave this office and forget this night ever happened.

"Stop."

His compelling voice ceased you in your tracks. You should have just left, but you didn't. Instead, you obeyed his demand.

"How long has it been since my last awakening?"

You quickly turned to face the stranger in the corner of your boss's office.

"Huh? Last awakening…? I'm not sure I understand what you are talking about. I'm sorry."

He gave you a pointed look. Finally, he let his eyes wander over your frame before ultimately letting out a deep sigh.

"Tell me, do you possess a legendary treasure? It Contains musicians in a box, the size no bigger than a fist, a wireless radio."

Your eyes widened. This man considered a wireless radio to be a legendary treasure…? Just who was this guy?

"Um… I don't own one of those. I do, however, have my phone to listen to music. If… that's what you are interested in?"

Before he could question the foreign words you just uttered to him, he watched as you pulled a peculiar device from your pocket. You unraveled your earbuds, trekking dangerously close to this strange man.

Slowly, you position the earbuds in each of his ears. Making sure they were in place, all the while crimson eyes followed your every movement. Before he could ask you the meaning of this—music surged through the strange gadget, flooding his senses with pleasant beats.

You watched as his demeanor softened upon hearing your playlist. He closed his eyes in contentment, letting the melody overcome him. You were confused, to say the least. Not only was this man trapped in a coffin, but his only wish was to listen to music?

"Are you… a goddess?"

You couldn't help but giggle at his terminology. Your laughter pulled his lids open once more.

"Far from it… I'm Y/N, and you are?"

"So 'nobody' does have a name after all. I'm the King of the Dead, Bram Stoker."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as you slightly tilted your head in confusion at his fascinating introduction, politely putting your hand out to shake his own.

"We cannot do that. I assumed you were aware of my… circumstance?"

Your grin wavered, more bewildered than ever at his words. Bram let out a drawn-out sigh at your expression. The realization of your cluelessness ultimately dawned on him.

"Pull this sheet from off me."

Bram sounded peeved as he gestured down toward his chest with his gaze alone. Hesitantly, you did so.

Your hands trembled, nails digging into the tattered raven cloth that concealed Bram moments ago. You could not accept what you were witnessing.

Bram was missing over half of his body- most of his frame was replaced by a large sword. It plunged through his whole being. All that remained intact was the upper half of his torso and head.

"Horrid, right? This is what my old enemy, Fukuchi, did to me."

Before you could control it, tears spilled past your lash line. Staining your burning cheeks. Bram looked taken aback as you wept for him. His mouth slumped open as he quizzically observed you.

"How awful… I'm so sorry. I hate Fukuchi so much. Of course, he would do something like this…"

Your tears flowed as you covered Bram up with that worn-out black sheet. Your hands came up to cup his cheeks, caressing the paired scars that decorated them.

Your touch pulled a gasp from both your lips.

Your breath hitched the second you came in contact with the frigid porcelain skin of his cheeks.

And Bram felt dizzy upon feeling the warmth radiating from your palms.

He could not remember the last time he felt such a gentle touch. His mind staggered at the contact.

"Would you… Perhaps mind if we conversed for a while? It seems you and I both have a lot of catching up to do."

That first encounter between Bram and yourself was ages ago. But an unforgettable one at that. You two stayed up all night, filling one another in on everything.

Bram informed you all about his ability and Fukuchi's use of him. You told Bram all about how you ended up here and what went wrong.

That night felt like a dream, something you only could have made up in your subconscious. Each night, you stayed at work later and later. You waited for everyone around you to dissipate so you could see Bram again. Talk to him for hours, learn more about his life, memorize him.

Your secret meet-ups went on for months. You could care less about getting killed by Fukuchi if you ever got caught. All you cared about was Bram. He was your only fragment of hope in your sad excuse of a life. The closer you became, the more your feelings developed for him.

On the surface, Bram came off as aloof; bored, and uninterested in anything. But that could not be further from the truth. Everything Bram loved, from his human life, was stolen from him. The idea of ever feeling warmth or love again was drained from his mind. That was until you appeared.

After five months of sneaking around and spending your nightfalls listening to music with one another, sharing stories, and growing close, you ultimately acknowledged your feelings for him.

"Bram, I… I need to tell you something."

You nervously fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, not daring to meet Bram's enchanting gaze. You sat atop Fukuchi's desk as Bram quizzically stared down at you from where he was propped up inside his coffin, against the back wall; as usual.

"Hm? What seems to be the matter, Y/N?"

His tone was delicate, solely for you. Quickly, you shot up from the desk. If speaking was too challenging, then… You had no choice but to show him.

Bram observed as you hastily approached him. Your hands darted up to his cheeks, holding him delicately like that first night you met. But before Bram could ask you- once more, what was wrong, you kissed him. Bram gasped against your lips, crimson orbs blown wide as he peered down at you. He watched you intently as your lips molded to his.

He could not accept what was occurring. Again, that head-dizzying feeling washed over him as you pulled away from his lips. You hurridly relaxed your head atop his shoulder, leaving a small kiss on the side of his neck before whispering,

"I love you, Bram."

His mind slowly digested the pure and earnest words you uttered against his neck. Bram finally had something— or rather, someone grant him motivation, hope for his less-than-ideal living circumstances— and life itself.

Bram felt unloveable. How could he not? He was quite literally half the man he used to be. But, you… loved him?

Your face felt hot as the seconds ticked on by. You nestled your face further into the juncture of his throat and shoulder. Placing delicate kisses on his frigid neck. Your hand continued to soothe over one of his cheeks as your other hand came up to card through his slate locks.

“I… do not think someone as magnificent as you should love a terror like me. You… will be met with misfortunes if you involve yourself with the likes of me. It would be soundest if you forgot about me altogether. Turn back now, before it's too late.”

His tone was low, barely inaudible if not for the proximity. You removed your head from his shoulder, meeting his ruby gaze for the first time since your confession.

“You said that is what you think… but- is that what you want?”

Bram let out a sigh, lids fluttering shut for a moment. He swore that if he looked at you for any longer, he would succumb to you. Your devoted countenance was too much to endure for Bram.

“…No.”

You brought your other hand back up to his fair visage, soothing over the identical scars residing on his freezing cheeks.

“Then tell me, Bram… what do you want? I know this whole situation- with Fukuchi, was against your will. I know you do not care to hurt others or cause destruction. You are not a monster. You never could be in my eyes. I love you for who you are in here,”

You gently tap his forehead to emphasize your point. His eyelids fluttered back open at your hasty display.

Bram knew this was wrong. He should not feel so attached- so compelled to you. But, you overtook his mind; you were his solace.

Your voice was the most desirable melody. Bram wished he could record your tellings and listen to you speak, over and over until it branded his brain.

He undoubtedly loved you for as long as he could remember. You were the first to show him compassion, hear him, and care about him in god knows how long. Bram did not even think he was capable of loving again. But you were quite the anomaly. You crept into his soul, taking over his every thought before he could intercept.

Bram watched as your eyebrows rose in concern. His silence was making your heart pound rapidly against your sternum. The fear of being rejected by him bubbled up in your abdomen, making you feel queasy.

He let out one of his signature sighs before his strong voice sliced through your doubts.

"What I desire… is for you to kiss me, once more."

Without any hesitation, you gave Bram what he wanted.

You pushed your lips against his with more confidence this time. Your mind surged with delight at the pleasant sighs Bram let out in between kisses. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, and Bram could hear it. Loud and clear.

His hearing was heightened, after all. Any physical reaction or sound you let out, he caught.

You were completely lost in the moment. The only thing tugging you out of your trance was the feeling of your lungs burning for air. As you pulled away to catch your breath, your forehead rested atop Bram's. Your warm breath tickled his wet ruddy lips.

There was that head-dizzying feeling again.

Bram's eyes flickered over your melodic expression. He wanted nothing more than to keep you happy like this for as long as he could. He knew your time together was limited, but he did not have the heart to break it to you. (Quite literally-)

When Fukuchi had no more use for Bram, he would annihilate him.

It was inevitable.

Bram hated feeling so helpless. He had not bothered to put up a fight all those times his old enemy threatened to end his life if he did not comply.

But now, Bram had someone to fight for.

He wanted nothing more than to shield you from harm. Take you away from this wretched place and live a comfortable life with you.

That was nothing but a fairytale. A nice thought, but unattainable.

If only he could remove this sword, regenerate his body, and get you out of this mournful circumstance. Be the man he yearned to be for you.

Not a day went by when he did not fantasize about wrapping you in his arms, hugging you tightly to himself. Bram often dreamt about holding your hand in his, wondering what it would feel like to interlock fingers. The warmth from your palm would compliment his icy grip, he reckoned.

The feeling of your nose bumping against his own pulled him from his thoughts. You beamed brightly at him, caressing his cheeks in that gentle way he loved so much.

And in that moment… he lost all composure, succumbing to you entirely.

"I… love you, Y/N. More than you could ever fathom."

You grew bolder as more months flickered by. You began sneaking Bram out of Fukuchi's unsettling office in the dead of night, taking him back to your living quarters.

You did not have much to work with. Your room consisted of a bed and a desk. Thankfully, with your very own private bathroom connected. You tried to liven the place up as much as you could, but Fukuchi did not permit you to leave the premises very often. He only authorized your leave if he needed you to run tedious errands for him.

You'll never forget how Bram's face beamed brightly the moment he saw your safe space. A change of scenery was pleasant for him. He felt select, bearing witness to such an intimate detail of your life. The handmade stars and planets that decorated your ceiling caught Bram's eye almost instantly.

You explained to him that they were your only treasure remaining from your life when you were free. The first time you laid Bram to rest atop your bed, turning off the lights before making yourself comfortable beside him, was remarkable.

Your gaze was glued to his face, not wanting to miss his reaction when your little galaxy began to illuminate. Bram gasped softly as the stars and planets twinkled in the dusk. You could have sworn his eyes were sparkling as he gaped at the ceiling.

Since then, it was custom for Bram and yourself to rest atop your duvet, gazing up at your artificial stars as you talked endlessly. Sometimes, you would doze off, but Bram would wake you with a stifled cough and a call of your name before dawn.

He desperately longed to lull himself to sleep beside you, considering how much he valued his slumber, but Bram knew that was a dangerous game to play. If Fukuchi discovered what you both were up to, well, game over.

You cherished those precious seconds when you awoke to your lover's voice. Before reality sunk in... and you had to scramble up to sneak Bram back to his coffin. A twinge of guilt always twisted in your gut as you placed your lover back in his confinement.

But each time he gave you a gentle smile, reassuring you with the whisper of his voice,

"We will be together again once the sun lowers. Chin up, mo chroí."

Bram's crimson orbs lingered on your lips before trailing up, capturing your mesmerizing gaze. A habit your lover picked up on to signal that he yearned for a kiss.

Your hands came up to his visage, fingertips dancing along his earlobes as you inched closer toward his lips. Bram's eyes grew tenfold as you now caressed the tips of his ears, pulling a strangled groan from his throat.

The noise slipping from your lover's mouth caused heat to swirl in your core, heartbeat accelerating as you closed the gap. Your lips captured his with more intensity than ever before.

Bram would be lying if he said he could not feel your desire for more through the embrace. His mind went numb, ruby eyes fluttering shut and allowing himself to succumb to you.

You quickly pulled back, offering him a muted smile and a wave before closing the casket. Enveloping Bram in that lonesome void he despised so greatly.

That evening; as you lay in bed beside your lover, your mind was elsewhere— Bram noted.

"Something is bothering you, yes?"

He whispered, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to meet his gaze. Your faces barely centimeters apart.

"Bram, do certain touches make you feel… good?"

His eyebrows rose, lips curling into a pout; giving your question much thought.

"Good? Good, how?"

Ah, you should have known he would ask you to elaborate further. But what you were trying to ask was crass. Maybe it would be best if you—

"Would it be okay if I show you what I mean by… good?"

Bram noticed you were being bashful, piquing his curiosity even further.

"If that is what you desire… then yes, mo chroí."

Slowly, you sat up, positioning yourself in front of your lover. Bram's watchful gaze followed your every movement. His eyes trailed lower as your shaky hands came to fiddle with the two buttons of his tattered white shirt.

"Is this still okay?"

Breathlessly, Bram answered with a quiet,

"…Yes."

His mind raced as you undid the few remaining buttons on his shirt, followed by his torn overcoat. You pushed back the flimsy fabrics past what remained of his torso. Your eyes curiously observed his newly exposed flesh.

His neck was malleable, adams apple bobbing in his throat ever so often. His pale collarbones were prominent, complimenting his broad shoulders. You were surprised to see his lithe chest was still intact. His complexion was so fair; the only pigment that blotted his form were his rose-colored nipples. Right below his chest was where the sword resided, shrouded by a vacant void.

"Beautiful…"

You whispered, driving yourself closer toward Bram. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek, tipping his head to the side. Your breath tickled his neck as you placed chaste kisses on his throat. Your lover choked on a whine as your hands trailed higher.

Gently, you took one of his pointed ears in your grasp, rubbing the cool flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

"Does this feel good?"

You questioned. Your breath tickled Bram's throat, causing the hairs on his nape to stand. He could feel his composure slipping from your gentle touches.

"Considerably, yes."

Bram answered matter-of-factly, trying his hardest to keep his tone level. But you made it nearly impossible with how your teeth grazed his feeble throat. Experimentally, your lips closed around his neck, right underneath the spot where the skin of his earlobe meets his throat.

"Hah…"

Bram groaned, scoring his bottom lip with his teeth to keep any more obscene sounds from stumbling out. His reaction only encouraged you further. You moved slightly higher, kissing up toward his ear opposite from the one you caressed.

You nibbled on his lobe gently. Your warm tongue darted out, trailing up his sensitive flesh and pulling a whine from your lover's lips.

"Christ…"

His mind went fuzzy from the pleasure you granted him. Bram's eyes rolled back into his skull as you continued your assault on his erogenous zones. He secretly condemned himself for healing at an inhumane rate, wanting nothing more than for your marks to last. But alas, that was not feasible.

His crimson orbs fired open as he felt your thumb swipe over his nipple. His head slanted downward, attempting to get a better view. You handled Bram with much consideration, taking your time exploring every part of his form that made him tick.

You sneered against the tip of his ear as his rosy nipple hardened beneath your thumb. Your forefinger was quick to follow alongside your thumb. Pulling the pebbled bud with the pads of your fingers, twisting the sensitive flesh ever so slightly.

You left one last nip to his ear before sitting upright, desperately yearning to see his blissed-out expression. And you were not disappointed in the slightest.

His slate locks stuck to his cheeks and forehead from the perspiration. Bram's cheeks were flush as his mouth hung agape, drool seeping past his lips. Your lover unabashedly mewled for you as you continued your assault on his nipple.

You gazed at him intently, absolutely hypnotized by him. Seeing Bram in this state of euphoria was better than you pictured. And you imagined what it would be like to have him under you more times than you would like to admit.

Your fingers flowed over toward his other peck. You gently caressed his frigid flesh before tweaking his other nipple between your digits. Bram cried out this time at your ministrations. His head lulled back in pleasure as you crept your face closer toward his.

“Please, look at me.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Bram's ragged breath tickled your lips from how hard he was panting. But only a moment passed before his lids were peeling open once more.

You beamed brightly at him before capturing his lips with yours. Bram’s eyes stayed open; watching as you boldly swiped your wet tongue along his bottom lip. He happily complied, allowing you to explore his mouth further.

Bram’s mind was racing. You both had never taken things this far before. But it was exhilarating. He could not shake this tingly sensation that overlaid his form. Your touch sent shockwaves of electricity through him.

Only when you let a moan of your own out against his lips did he trail his gaze downward. Bram’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he watched your hips glide against the bed. You were rocking yourself into the mattress, almost on instinct; as you deepened the kiss further.

Your tongue traced over his fangs, treading with caution as the point of his teeth felt razor sharp with just the slightest bit of pressure from your appendage. You could feel your lungs burning, begging you to pull away and catch your breath.

“Mo chroí.…”

His voice was faint. Bram was still trying to regain his composure from that heated make-out session. Warmth crept up on you as you gazed into his ruby eyes.

You huffed, catching your breath as your hips faintly humped against the duvet.

“Would you allow me to return the blessing, Mo chroí?"

Your face heated up at his insinuation, not expecting such bold words from Bram.

"Y-Yes… but, forgive me for asking, how?"

Bram let out a deep sigh, muttering something under his breath. He averted his gaze from your own, seemingly struggling to find the words.

"Remove your garments and… sit on me. If you are pleased with doing so, mo chroí."

"Sit on you—?"

The tables had turned, and now you were the one feeling clueless. His eyes locked onto your gaze once more before he said matter-of-factly,

"Sit atop my face… let me taste you. It would bring me immense joy to bring you pleasure."

Heat surged in your core from his request. Your mind went blank; all you could do was nod in agreement. Not trusting your voice right now.

Your shaky hands came to your shirt, pulling it over your head slowly. Your eyes never once left his. You unclasped your bra next, feeling tempted to cover yourself- but you refrained. Your cheeks felt hot as you watched his crimson orbs hungrily consume the sight of you stripping before him.

He was quiet as your fingers came down to your waist. You leaned back atop the bed, lifting your hips and slipping off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You felt sheepish being bare before your lover for the first time.

Bram's alluring gaze continued to rake over your body. You were enchanting. Perfect, in every way, and all his for the taking.

"You are exquisite, mo chroí."

His soft words pulled you out of your head. Your worries and doubts slipped away as he stared at you lovingly, a heartwarming smile adorning his visage.

"Come here."

He whispered, giving you his grace to inch closer. You slowly positioned yourself on your hands and knees, crawling your way up his frame. You pushed yourself off your hands, spine straightening as your thighs trembled on each side of his face.

Bram could smell your essence from the proximity. He could not help the way his eyes fixated on your slick trickling down the inside of your thigh.

"Sit."

"But… are you sure? What if I hurt you—"

"Please, sit."

His plea for you only turned you on further. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, letting your lids flutter shut before relaxing your lower half. Your hands twisted beneath your duvet the second your pussy made contact with Bram's lips.

Your lover wasted no time darting his tongue out, experimentally prodding at your entrance. You whined from the cool wet sensation, knuckles turning white from how fiercely your hand twisted into the duvet.

Bram's tongue greedily lapped up your essence, groaning against your pussy from your taste. His head went fuzzy; being enveloped by you in this way was exhilarating. He was not well versed in such lewd acts, but he gave it his all to please you.

His lengthy tongue gradually began thrusting in and out of your dripping hole. Your hips bucked forward on instinct as he explored the deepest parts of you, picking up his pace over time. You could not control your hips as they continued to rut against his mouth.

It felt good— too good. You were unsure how long you would last with how faultlessly Bram pleasured you. You would be lying if you said you had not thought about being intimate with your lover in this way. But he surpassed your expectations; you were on cloud nine.

"Bram—!"

You cried out, only dragging your eyelids open when his tongue pulled out of your entrance, slotting to prod at your clit instead. You were shocked to find Bram gazing up at you. His ruby orbs were half-lidded, and his eyebrows were knitted in concentration as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

"F-Fuck… don't stop— please!"

You babbled, grounding your hips into his mouth as his lips circled around your puffy bud, pulling a gasp from your ruddy lips. He took that as a sign to explore further; gently, he suckled on your clit. Bram started slow, gauging your every reaction to make sure you were still feeling good. Hence, the reason his eyes trained on your face since the start.

Watching you reach nirvana because of his actions doused him with pride. Bram wanted to have you like this for the rest of his days. He hoped that in the future, he would be free of this sword-shaped nuisance.

He longed for his body, especially in moments like now. What he would give to grasp your waist, pull your cunt impossibly closer to his mouth. Letting you suffocate him as much as you wanted. His pointed nails would leave marks on your hips, no doubt. If Bram had his full body, he would be able to please you the way he knew he could. Bram yearned to have you under him one of these days, make love to you countlessly, and plug you full with his seed.

He let his fantasies play out in his mind as he sucked on your clit, with more force. Bram swirled his tongue around your nub between particularly fierce sucks, gradually finding a rhythm.

“Bram— it’s too much… feels so good, I think I’m gonna— ah!”

You hardly finished your train of thought before your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered, hips stilling against Bram’s mouth as he worked you through your high. Your thighs twitched rapidly, locking around his face the moment you came.

You felt Bram moan against your messy pussy, provoking you to shake further from the onslaught of pleasure. As a few moments ticked by, Bram slowed his ministrations against your sticky clit. Gradually, drawing his lips off your puffy bud.

You took in a shaky breath as you began to regain composure. Slowly, you crept your body down the length of the bed until your head was level with Bram’s. You collapsed beside him, bringing a shaky hand up to wipe over his slick-covered lips.

“I’m sorry… I got you all messy…”

You squeaked out, embarrassment shooting up your spine as the reality of the situation crept up on you.

“Don’t apologize, I… enjoyed every moment of that. You taste so—“

“Ah! Don’t finish that sentence… I’ll simply die of embarrassment!”

You shouted, bringing your free hand up to cover your face from Bram’s devoted gaze. A deep chuckle emitting from beside you pulled you out of your shameful tizzy.

Bram was… laughing?

The sound of his laughter filling your room made your heart pound against your sternum. It was so foreign to hear him be carefree, but you fell in love with it. The perfect melody, you reasoned.

“I don’t ever desire you to die on my watch, mo chroí. So, I suppose I will keep my lips sealed— for now.”

You could not help the laugh that slipped past your lips from his playful tone. Seeing all the different sides of Bram felt forbidden. You could not even begin to describe how lucky you felt; to be the one who got to explore the deepest parts of him.

“For now, huh? What do you say we rest for a little while— I’ll be sure to set multiple alarms so we’ll be awake before dawn. I promise! I just want to rest with you for a bit…”

You let out between yawns, abruptly feeling very sleepy from that intense orgasm your lover granted you only moments ago. Bram offered you a small smile before ultimately caving in to you like he always did.

“As you wish. But please be sure to pull the covers up, mo chroí. Besides you dying, the last thing I desire is for you to catch a cold.”

You slowly sat up from the bed, slipping on your panties and an oversized sweater. You set a few alarms on your phone; as promised, before switching the light off. As you crawled back into bed beside Bram, your hands came up to peel the duvet back far enough so you could slot yourself underneath. Making sure to cover Bram with the plush blanket as well.

“Goodnight, Bram… I love you…”

You whispered against his neck, placing a small kiss there before your droopy eyelids sealed shut. You dozed off in a matter of seconds. Bram sighed in contentment as he felt your warm breath tickle the side of his throat.

He let his eyes wander along the glowing galaxy that stretched along your ceiling. Bram could not help but think back; to the first moment he saw the artificial stars and planets. Never would he have imagined you two would be here together in such an intimate and loving way based on your first encounter.

You were the first person to show him kindness in a very long time, and you continued to be that guiding light in his life from that day forward. In this makeshift galaxy, Bram believed you were the star that burned the brightest. His favorite one.

He turned his head toward you, placing a lingering kiss atop your head. Bram finally allowed himself to succumb to slumber, eyes closing shut. Dozing off without a second thought just before whispering out,

“I love you more, mo réalta.”

mo réalta = my star

[chimielie]

“I’m just saying,” you tell your roommate as she shoves her wallet into her purse while you scoop up two of her bags, “spending so much money here for gourmet groceries is...”

You trail off as you realize that she’s more preoccupied with spending an extra second staring at the cashier she’s been pining after (expensively, you might add, because she comes here every week just to stand in his line) than listening to your half-hearted lecture. You glance back at him with her, jolting when you notice someone crossing in front of you from the corner of your eye.

“Move, register's mine for the next hour.” You look involuntarily at the speaker, who taps your friend’s crush (Yahaba, his nametag reads) on the shoulder. It’s a crowded space, so you stare up at the replacement cashier from scarcely six inches away, absorbing his visage like several blows directly to the kidneys.

He’s thicker-set and shorter than Yahaba, hair shaved to his skull and dyed blond with the exception of two dark stripes at his temples. Two tiny metal spheres straddle his left eyebrow, featuring above lashes so long he might as well be wearing eyeliner (actually, he might be) over burning eyes you could spend hours admiring. And—be still your beating heart—the shaved head reveals thick black hoops hung in his ears, glinting merrily under the fluorescents. There are piercings studded into the cartilage above, too, matching his eyebrow jewelry. He turns a little, so you can see the nametag pinned to his tie-dyed shirt; it reads Tarō, in awful scrawled handwriting.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my whole entire life,” you say loudly, not a single thought passing through your brain prior to or during the process of speaking.

He stops talking and stares at you. The sounds of the store, the squeaks of cart wheels and the music over the speakers, are suddenly headache inducing. Your friend slaps you lightly on the arm, a motion that you read immediately as you did not just say that, holy shit.

“Say thank you, Kyō,” Yahaba says jokingly, and she emits a noise too high-pitched to actually be laughter. Your face, meanwhile, is frozen. You think you might actually be deceased. This must be rigor mortis.

“Don't think I’ve ever been called beautiful before,” he says, squinting those gorgeous eyes like he's trying to decipher a dead language.

“I am so sorry,” you say, reaching out to haul your ass and your roommate’s out of here now. Your hand closes around nothing and you look around to find her engrossed in conversation with Yahaba, who is now apparently off the clock despite his replacement coworker wasting time looking at you like someone might look at a dead fish that had been thrown at them. “Um. I am so sorry. I didn’t intend to... harass you at work.”

He grunts in dismissal, flashing you a smirk that reveals fanged canines, and if you’ve had one thought that’s inappropriate in a public setting, you’ve had them all by now. “I have to deal with—” He tilts his head toward the growing line, cussing under his breath and rolling his eyes. “You have a good night, though."

Despite your miserable shame, you take comfort knowing that your friend finally had a real conversation with Yahaba, even getting his number while you suffered under his intense gaze. You can cope with embarrassment if it brings something good into the world.

The silver lining is gilded over when, at two minutes past ten, you get a text from an unknown number.

just closed. u doing anything now?

this is kentarō from the grocery. i got ur number from yahaba who got it from ur friend.

hope thats ok

You smile at your phone, envisioning the wrinkle between his brows as he typed the last message. You're gonna have to start budgeting for fancier groceries.

[realkavehgf]

♡ I must confess...

a/n: I said I was gonna take a break but since I impulsively made this self-indulgent fic, I might as well share my cringe to the world!! AHAHA I finished and proofread at 3am so you might see a few errors here and there. This is a late Valentine's fic! I was supposed to finish this on the day itself but school...

!!! I am not a writer, I mainly draw artworks, so this isn't as good as the others out there, but enjoy the product of my lil brain!

content: 1.3+k words, reader pov focused, reader confesses, reader is an absolute simp for kaveh(cough), a part that implies that reader draws, giving kaveh cookies, kaveh is a pretty popular guy, fluff, just fluff. not sure if it's ooc but it's not that bad if it is! friends to lovers, kavehxgn!reader, modern HS au! Self-indulgent, but it's pretty much general so dw!

Fic under the cut! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

After school, holding a small box of cookies and a Valentine's card behind your back, you prepped yourself. Today was the day. Today, you were going to tell your best friend that you liked him— that you really, really liked him.

Waiting outside in the courtyard, standing near the bench that you two would usually sit and hang out on, you waited to see that pretty boy blond that made your heart skip a beat for every little thing he did with you... Probably excluding the nagging he would do every so often when he was worried about you.

After a while, he called out to you, "I'm here! Sorry for the wait!" momentarily rendering you frozen in place. His bright voice ringing out, slightly out of breath.

Kaveh sat beside you with a smile, arms full of chocolatey sweets. "There were some people who gave me a few things on the way here... And I couldn't really refuse them, you know." He tittered awkwardly.

It was to be expected for someone like him to receive confessions, treats, and whatnot during this special day — he was kind, considerate... and, you could say that he was well liked by those who knew him.

He placed the chocolates and letters on the bench carefully, and... You were going to add to the amount of treats he was going to have to finish. Hesitance took root, you gulped. Palms starting to get sweaty as your heart pounded in your chest, and all of that... Just because he was there.

"Kaveh..." You muttered, before clearing your throat, hands firmly behind your back as you faced him, "I have something to tell you."

He blinked, caught off guard. "Oh? Um, what is it...?" obvious that he was drawing conclusions in his mind — his cheeks were growing redder and redder by the second. As always, being an open book whenever he was with you.

Though, from that reaction of his... Could it be?

"You probably already know what I was going to tell you..." you grumbled under your breath, turning your head to look at something else, your face burning from embarrassment.

"No, no..." He spoke up, voice softening, "Tell me."

This guy is going to cause you a heart attack one of these days, damn it! Speaking oh-so gently... You could only imagine his expression as he watched you squirm about, eyes glued on the nearby trash bins trying to calm down.

"Alright, I..." You started, "I-" you stuttered, "I...!" oh, you just couldn't!

You heard him come a little bit closer, making your heart drop to your stomach. "Look at me." He spoke firmly, yet tenderly.

Slowly, you turned to face him, finding a visage that reflected your own — a blushing mess. "That- that's better..." He whispered, giving you a bashful little smile.

You let out a soft whimper as you two locked eyes... Oh that ruby gaze you could just get lost in— no, no, damn it. Damn it all! Why is he like this?!

"Okay, okay..." You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, showing him the gifts you had prepared. "I... like you." Voice growing weaker with each word that you let out.

And there it was — the feelings you held in for months on end, out of the bag.

A few moments of silence ensued, the beating of your heart growing louder, almost deafening in your ears—

Until you felt a pair of arms wrapping around you, squeezing you tight. Not even taking the gifts first, huh....

He giggled, sighing of relief, refusing to show you his face. "I hope you're sure about that..." He muttered, letting his warmth envelop you, hiding his face from you. Your legs trembling from the sensation.

"Uh- mhm, I'm sure." You reassured him, unable to return the fluffy embrace as, well, you were holding the box of cookies and card in both your hands.

He pulled back slightly, glancing at the things you made him, "Oh, right! Sorry, let me take these real quick." he said, taking the sweets and the card from your grasps.

Checking the card's contents, he chuckled, "'For you'... and, is this supposed to be me?" He asked, showing you the card that you made for him — and yes, that was him in all his doodled glory. It wasn't as good as his own silly scribbles, but that unwavering smile of his indicated that he didn't care, and he absolutely loved it.

He placed your gifts on the bench, separated from the rest that he received earlier. "Ahem," he cleared his throat. His hand on his face as he looked at you.

Silence... Before he'd walk back towards you, wrapping you with his arms once more. "Thank you... I... really like you too." He admitted awkwardly, hushed. "So, I'm... very happy." He continued, hearing his voice tremble ever so slightly.

You returned his hug with your own, squeezing him back. The butterflies in your stomach fluttering about rapidly — you couldn't help but to lean on him.

"I'm happy too..." You whispered back, basking in his affection, catching a whiff of his cologne mixed with the scent of the sunny day that went by... It tickled your nose in a good way.

...

"... You better not be crying," you quipped, as he didn't speak after a few seconds.

He scoffed, "Er- hmph, no I'm not." his voice coming out nasally, oh.

Wait, was he actually crying?!

You pulled away, catching a glimpse of his flushed face, tears of joy, you hoped, trickling down his cheeks.

"Hey, don't look at me—!" He managed to say with a chuckle, before getting cut off by you cupping his cheeks, and wiping his tears with your thumbs, causing him to look at you, wide-eyed.

"No, no, I'm gonna stare, and stare real hard." You teased, giving him a bright smile. His cheeks heating up even more from your words. "You're so dramatic sometimes—" You continued to joke, but now was his turn to catch you off guard.

He took one of your hands, and pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles, his lips lingering a little too long. Smiling charmingly afterwards despite him tearing up just a second ago.

You stared at him, flabbergasted, oh you definitely kept your word... He bested you yet again...! You grumbled, the thumping in your chest growing louder in your ears, but you couldn't look away from him.

This... is so unfair!!

"You were saying?" He let out a light laugh, "So cute..." he remarked, causing shivers to run up your spine.

"Damn it..." You pouted, pulling your hands away, and taking a few steps back. "That was so uncalled for..." you grumbled.

He merely laughed, "You've done worse, you know! I'm sorry!" before leading you to take a seat on the bench, next to the pile of sweets.

"Alright... Why don't we eat yours first?" He offered, taking the box you gave to him in his hand, looking at you for your approval.

Recovering from what just happened, you cleared your throat, "Sure, sure... I don't mind." flashing him a smile.

He nodded, opening the tin box of cookies, he beamed, "These look delicious..." he muttered, his eyes twinkling at the confections sitting on his lap.

He reached out his hand to you, offering you the first bite. Making your heart skip a beat — it wasn't the first time he offered you food, but when it's this setting...

"No, you eat it first!" You waved your hands dismissively, but stubborn as he was, he continued to offer it to you. Not taking no as an answer.

But to be fair, if you continued to resist, it'd turn into a back and forth of insisting the other should eat the biscuit first... So you accepted it, and took a bite.

"Mm." Unsurprisingly, it was good. You picked it out yourself, after all!

Seeing your reaction, Kaveh picked up a cookie as well, taking a bite. Hearing a delighted hum leave his lips, you let out a sigh of relief that you weren't aware you were holding.

You continued to look at him as he savored your gift with a smile.

Everything has calmed down, and both of you were aware about each other's feelings now. But whatever that would come next would be for tomorrow, because right now, both of you would savor this memorable moment — the taste of the sweetness of cookies, each other's company...

... And the brokenhearted admirers of Kaveh watching from afar.

[ebongawk]

"Baby, baby, baby," Eddie practically shouted as he kicked his way into the apartment. Chrissy jumped from her curled up position on the couch, the book in her hands nearly launched across the room.

"Oh, my God," she laughed breathlessly, laying a hand over her heart. "Eddie, Jesus."

"Sorry," he said, not sounding particularly apologetic at all. "But you will never guess what I found at the store!"

He was holding up a paper grocery sack like it was a trophy, having dropped three other sacks when he barged in, and Chrissy's eyes darted between it and him incredulously.

"Groceries."

"Har, har." The grin still stretched over his cheeks made his sarcastic laughter almost genuine. "No. Well. Yes, but." With a flourish, he tore the paper bag away, revealing another plastic bag beneath. Chrissy blinked at it.

"Chicken nuggets?"

"Dinosaur chicken nuggets!" he shouted, evidently very pleased with his discovery. "The most epically childish thing in existence! One hit of these is guaranteed nostalgia!"

Pursing her lips around a grin, Chrissy shrugged. "I've never had them before."

Eddie looked at her for a long moment. The expression he wore when he wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and coddle her, which slipped into his eyes every time she admitted something sordid about her own childhood.

Instead, he just grinned, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh, sweetheart. You're in for a treat."

...

Two hours later, the oven was just finished baking their costumed chicken.

Eddie and Chrissy were also just finished baking.

She was sitting on the couch again, relaxed and riding the buzz of their shared joint as Eddie set a plate piled high with nuggets on the coffee table. Adorned on either side by ranch dressing, buffalo sauce, and barbecue sauce, he traipsed across the living room to load Predator into the VCR and plop down beside her.

"Dig in, sweetness," Eddie said, easy smile and red-rimmed eyes half-focused as he fast-forwarded through the movie previews. Chrissy leaned forward, plucking the nugget off the top as Eddie grabbed a couple and dipped them into various sauces.

Chrissy stared at the little nugget in her hand.

It was clearly a stegosaurus. The ridges on its back like fish scales and the curve of its spine made it easy to identify. It was ridiculous, how some tiny fried piece of chicken could take on the form of another animal, wasn't it? Even if that animal had been extinct for millions and millions of years. And the stegosaurus would never know that humans created a little snack to emulate its visage. They would never know that humans existed at all.

"Chrissy?" Eddie asked, his mouth half-full of her little stegosaurus's friends. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Her eyes suddenly blurred, and Chrissy let out a hitched breath.

"Oh. Shit. Sweetness." She could feel Eddie's hands on her shoulders, trying to turn her body toward him as she held that tiny little chicken nugget in her palm. Staring at his grainy little body even if she couldn't see him. "Baby, are you okay? Are you having trouble with this kind of food right now? I could make–– Well. Uh. I don't know if I can make anything, but––"

"He's just––" She broke off with another sob, thrusting her hands toward where she assumed Eddie's face was to show him the stegosaurus. "He's just so cute, Eddie! Look at him!"

She couldn't see Eddie through her tears, but she felt his hands squeeze her shoulders once, then twice, as she ran her fingertip over the tiny breadcrumb ridges of the stegosaurus's spine.

"Chrissy––"

"He doesn't even know that he's edible!" she cried. "He's just trying to live his little dinosaur life and be adorable!"

Eddie laughed, bodily pulling her into his arms until she was tucked up against his chest.

"Oh, baby girl," he cooed, rocking her back and forth. "He is pretty cute, isn't he?"

"Yes," she pouted. "He's just–– He's just a baby, Eddie! I can't eat him!"

"He's an herbivore, y'know? He was gonna get eaten in the Jurassic period too. You're just playing your part in the circle of life."

"I'm not a t-rex!" Chrissy retorted, unable to keep from crying harder. "And h-he doesn't deserve that! He's too cute!"

Eddie's laughter rumbled against her, bubbling up from his chest and tucked into her hair. Affronted, Chrissy looked up at him.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No, princess, no," he said quickly, his nose scrunched up in humor. "No, it's just–– Baby, he's just a nugget. He's not even a real stegosaurus."

"I don't care," she huffed around her own laugh, looking down at the little nugget in her hand. The tears had begun to dry on her cheeks, and she nuzzled into Eddie's chest as she continued holding the stegosaurus close.

"You're literally too adorable for words, Cunningham." She felt the tell-tale sign of lips pressed against her crown as Eddie slowly stroked his fingers up and down her spine. After a moment, he let out a long sigh. "Should I put our reptilian friends away and order a pizza instead?"

"Yes," Chrissy replied, still pouting a little. "We can't eat them, Eddie, they're just babies."

A finger came up beneath her chin, gently tilting her head back until she had to look up at him. Those chocolate eyes she loved so much danced with mirth, lips twisted like he wanted desperately to conceal his smile. Which he was doing a poor job of.

"We'll see how you feel about it when you're sober," he acquiesced. "For now, how does pepperoni and hamburger sound?"

Chrissy grinned, leaning up to kiss him in lieu of an answer.

[feyhunter78]

Sequel for matchmaker extraordinaires? It was absolutely great and I think a sequel would be perfect 😳 with maybe some 🌶️

Gage, love, what an excellent idea!!!! Here it is, hot off the presses!!1 A bit short, but I hope you liked it!!!!!

TW: Sex in a friend's house?? Idk what to call that, Elrond begging, just general smut between two people who are in a rush but love each other

Durin and Disa: Matchmakers Extraordinaire pt 2

It’s wrong, you know it is, but Elrond has locked the door, you can hear Durin and Disa busy in the kitchen and their children are still away at a friend’s home. If you’re quiet, it will be fine.

At the very least, that is what you tell yourself, as Elrond has you pinned against the bathroom wall. Another layer of noise prevention, the bathroom has its own door.

His lips are latched onto the column of your neck, hips thrusting into you, as you bite down on your lips trying to muffle your moans.

“Elrond, we must hurry, they call us for breakfast at any time.” You said, sentence punctuated by a gasp as he sucks on your pulse point.

“Then I suggest you allow me full access to your visage.” He said, eyes drifting down to your bodice.

You tug down the bodice of your nightgown, and Elrond groans. The sound makes your stomach flip, and you whine when his lips began mouthing at the soft flesh of your breasts.

“You must be quieter, my starlight, as much as I have long to hear you sing, I do not wish to share your song with others.” He whispered, his hand sneaking between your bodies to toy with your sensitive bud.

“That is quite easy for you to say.” You hissed, hand in his hair, pleasure rushing through your veins. You’re a flustered mess. Legs wrapped around him, nightgown bunched up around your hips and pulled beneath your breasts, and your pupils blown wide with lust.

Elrond’s fingers set a devastating pace, urging you to your peak before breakfast is called, and you bite harder on your bottom lip. His hips snap against yours, and his lips crashing onto yours to muffle your cries.

His tongue sweeps your mouth, that same sweet taste from before renewed as your hips attempt to match his thrusts, inner walls clenching around him. His breathing is heavy, his voice low and strained, his moans like music to your ear.

You cover his mouth with your hand, and he gives you a curious look. “You must be quieter, my love.” You teased, more heat settling in your core at the way his eyes darken for a moment.

His pace finds new vigor and your breathing is rapid, perked nipples brushing against his chest with every breath. His hand palms one of your breasts, thumbs brushing over your peak, sending a ripple of pleasure throughout your body.

You whined his name, hand tightening around his jaw involuntarily. Your legs are shaking, and he cups one of your thighs keeping you against him, his warm tongue darts out to taste your palm, and you yank it back in surprise. “Elrond!”

He said nothing in response, instead giving you a roguish smile.

With his member deep inside you, his fingers on your bud, and his lips now free to claim your skin, he is overwhelming your senses. Suddenly everything is him, every touch, sound, taste, and sight is him.

You lean forward and bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming as he shifts his weight and finds that spongy spot within you, hitting it over and over again. All while purring in your ear. “My sweet starlight, you feel so perfect, you were made for me. Made to take my cock, my soul, my heart, it is all yours. Every fiber of my being is yours, I beg of you, give me your hand and I promise, I will make you the happiest maiden in Middle-Earth.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, trying desperately to muffle your scream of his name as pleasure washed over you, a roaring sound drowning out everything but his voice whimpering your name as he finished.

You cupped his cheek, panting and satisfied. “Yes, I will marry you.”

“Elrond! Breakfast!” Durin’s voice boomed.

You both laughed, and he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “Might I escort the Lady Peredhel to breakfast?”

“You may, Lord Peredhel.” You said, unwrapping your legs from around him and gingerly setting them down before slightly stumbling.

He caught you, a proud smirk on his face. “Perhaps I shall carry you?”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @thesolarangel, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority

[short-honey-badger]

Beautiful Cruel World

Soooo. JJK has got me in my feels. And after some going back and forth with @goth-mami-writer, this angst filled minific was born. Enjoy!

Spoilers! Proceed with Caution!

Summary: Nanami sees more than just the beach during his final moments

Every step is pain. The air against his melted skin stings, making the exposed muscles throb in time with his heart beat. Nanami Kento focuses on putting one step in front of the other. He needs to keep going. Needs to make sure the others survive. But he is so tired. His entire body aches, but the lack of vision from his left eye is the worst. 

Kento feels off balance, and he breathes deep to focus on his footing. He can't fall now. Not when he still breathes. 

“Malaysia,” he rumbles, and fuck. Even that hurts, but he pushes on, mind elsewhere instead of the cold steel walls of the train station. A beach, with blue water and white sand. Horribly reminiscent of the Domain he'd just escaped from. Nanami thinks morbidly. 

His ears pick up the disgusting sounds of Curses and transfiguration humans. He can't bring himself to feel anything for the tortured souls, not now. Not when all he can feel is agony. He focuses back on white sand and crashing waves. 

Nanami Kento’s body moves on instinct, fighting his way through the hoard of disfigured bodies that called out for help. His mind was elsewhere, far away on that beach in Malaysia. 

Kento crouches, splashing the water with a soft smile. It feels wonderful against his skin. His jacket is discarded to the sand shore, and he steps further into the ocean despite his shoes and socks still on. He feels free for the first time in what feels like ages. 

“Kento.”

The blonde freezes, eyes opening and mouth dropping as his dream suddenly becomes a nightmare. He can feel the gentle splash of another body joining him in the ocean, but he doesn't dare turn around. Nanami couldn't bear to face the one he loved. 

The ghostly touch of two hands comes to rest upon his shoulders, and he tenses at the touch. As much as he wants to, he doesn't resist the soft pressure, and soon, he is gazing up at you. 

You smile down at him, soft and full of devotion just like usual. One hand carefully slides across his face and into his hair, “Kento,” you whisper, and the man breaks. 

“My love, please forgive me,” His voice, always strong and reassuring, cracks in his anguish. He would never see you again. Your radiant beauty and the soft touch of your hand when you welcome him home after a long mission. The thought crushes him more than anything else up to this point, and Nanami finds himself clutching at your visage. 

“There was nothing that I could have done. Forgive me for leaving you in this cruel world,” he begs and drops his head, brow resting upon your stomach as he kneels in the water. 

Your hands tighten in his hair and gently bring his face up and away from your body. You look at him, eyes knowing and understanding, and Kento knows then that you will never blame him for his failure. That like every other time he has come to you, broken and bleeding, you would whisper how strong he is, how much of a hero he was to continue this dangerous life. 

Nanami Kento opens his eyes to the phantom of his dead best friend, ears picking up the sounds of frantic footsteps. He turns his good side and smiles softly at the sight of the pinkett. 

“I can't change the choices I have made to bring us here, but I can apologize for how unfair this outcome is for you,” Nanami murmurs, voice soft and full of love only for the one person who brought so much light into his dangerous life, “I'm sorry, my love.”

You tug him up, and Nanami follows. The two of you meet in a sweet chaste kiss before the blonde breaks it. You smile, hands cradling his face, and Kento takes both of yours into his own strong hands. The two of you dance in to crashing waves of the Malaysian ocean. 

“Itadori Yuuji,” Kento says loud enough for the teenager to hear him, “You take it from here.” 

[songbirdsanctuary]

I found this fic I wrote about a year ago, I'm not sure when it takes place but thats fine. I think I wrote this as something where before he joined HC he was on a server where he was bullied for being a hybrid.

Warnings: Implied self-harm.

Word count: 712

Zedaph woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as the familiar sense of dread washed over him. With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself out of bed and trudged over to the mirror hanging on the wall.

Every morning, it was the same routine. Every morning, he would stare into that mirror and see the same horrifying reflection staring back at him. His eyes traced the contours of his face, the sharp angles and grotesque features that marked him as different, as other.

He saw the pointed ears, the elongated snout, the tufts of wool peeking out from beneath his shirt. He saw every awful flaw, every inhuman imperfection, every ugly detail that served as a constant reminder of what he was: a sheep-human hybrid, a grotesque amalgamation of two species never meant to be combined.

Zedaph hated what he saw in the mirror. He hated the creature staring back at him with those empty, lifeless eyes. He hated the reminder of his own inadequacy, his own inability to fit in, to be accepted.

He reached up with trembling hands, fingers tracing the outline of his face as if trying to erase the monstrous visage before him. His breath caught in his throat as he fought back the wave of despair threatening to consume him whole.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape the truth. No matter how many times he looked away, no matter how many layers of wool he tore off in a futile attempt to change himself, the reflection remained the same.

Zedaph was a monster. A freak. A creature unworthy of love or acceptance.

With a choked sob, he collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks as he clutched at his chest, the weight of his own self-loathing crushing him beneath its suffocating embrace.

But just as he felt himself spiraling into the abyss of despair, a soft voice broke through the darkness, a beacon of light in the vast emptiness that threatened to consume him.

"Zedaph? Are you okay?"

Zedaph's head snapped up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Skizz standing in the doorway, concern etched on his face.

Skizz had always been there for him, a constant source of support and understanding in a world that seemed determined to tear him down. And yet, even now, as he stood before Zedaph with those gray wings stretched out behind him like a shield, Zedaph couldn't help but feel unworthy of such kindness.

"I'm fine," Zedaph muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to compose himself. "Just... just tired, I guess."

Skizz didn't say anything, didn't push Zedaph to explain himself further. Instead, he crossed the room in quick strides and knelt down beside Zedaph, wrapping him in a warm embrace that sent a shiver down Zedaph's spine.

"You don't have to pretend with me, Zed," Skizz said softly, his voice a gentle melody that washed over Zedaph like a soothing balm. "I know how hard it is for you, how much you struggle with... with everything. But you're not alone, okay? You have me. And I'm not going anywhere."

Zedaph's breath caught in his throat as he felt the walls he had built around his heart begin to crumble, the weight of his burdens suddenly feeling a little lighter in Skizz's embrace.

"I'm sorry," Zedaph whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his own heart. "I'm sorry for being such a mess, for... for burdening you with all of this."

Skizz shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he brushed a lock of hair away from Zedaph's tear-streaked face.

"You're not a burden, Zed," Skizz said firmly, his gray eyes meeting Zedaph's with unwavering determination. "You're my friend. And friends help each other through the tough times, no matter what."

Zedaph's heart swelled with gratitude as he leaned into Skizz's embrace, allowing himself to be held for the first time in what felt like an eternity. And as he buried his face in Skizz's shoulder, breathing in the comforting scent of his friend's warmth, he felt a flicker of hope ignite within him.

Maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought. Maybe, just maybe, he was worthy of love and acceptance after all.

And in that moment, as he clung to Skizz like a lifeline in the storm, Zedaph allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

[thetantiger]

Past Choices

Word count: 794

Characters: Kana (she/her), Yamaladormi (she/her)

Kana is dealing with some issues. Three timeline variants of her husband? What could go wrong?!

Kana stumbled through the halls of Whitegrove aimlessly. She was so, so very grateful to have friends like Graysmite or Frost willing to babysit Willow for her and Maxwell, considering he was so caught up in his work and she was… struggling, at the moment. She wasn’t necessarily sure what it was. Maybe it was the exhaustion, from having to bear most of the weight of taking care of the baby recently. Maybe it was worry, about what this alternate version of Maxwell could do and what he had already done to some of their members. Maybe it was uncertainty, because something about the way her stomach flipped over itself every time she looked at another version of Maxwell, living and breathing with a beating heart, brown hair and a lack of lichfire in his eyes had her losing sleep.

She didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Stepping into the kitchen with frazzled hair and a tired eye, she groaned as a dull ache of pain crept up her right leg and spread out towards the bottom of her spine. She reached for the pouch attached to her belt and opened it, nose twitching at the stench of herbs inside. It smelled even more horrid if she decided to smoke it, so she powered through just chewing them up and swallowing them no matter how vile it tasted that way. At least it did its job.

“Kana? I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Kana’s head swiveled to look behind her, seeing a draconic humanoid with bright Bronze scales and arcane-blue eyes looking back at her. Yama, in her dracthyrish visage, leaned against the doorframe and peered at her. “Oh. Hello, Yama.”

“Where’s Maxwell?” Yama asked.

“Working,” Kana replied with a telling sigh. “He’s.. caught up in a lot of stuff right now.”

“And Willow?”

“With Gray.” Kana looked the dragon over again with suspicion. “Why do you ask?”

Yama blinked at her, wordless for a moment. “...You seem tired, is all.”

“I am. I’m very tired.” In truth, Maxwell’s absorption into his work had exhausted her. All she wished she could do right now was lean her head on his shoulder and ask if everything was going to be okay, but war happens. She supposed she was simply going to have to push through it.

Yama gave her a fond, forgiving smile. “Well, at least one version of Maxwell has been helpful, yes?”

Kana stared at her. The hackles on the back of her neck stood at attention. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Yama took a few steps towards her and started pacing around her, her tone gentle and kind and her arms folded neatly behind her back, but something about the sway of her tail or her choice of words were threatening to Kana. “He just seems much more interested in what is ailing you than your husband does.”

“It’s nothing,” Kana retorted, beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Besides, he is my husband. In a sense. You are a Bronze--you know I have done nothing wrong.”

“I know, Kana.” Yama stood close to her, inspecting her almost, sticking her snout in Kana’s face as her eyes searched her. “But.. you concern me. Though.. I guess it’s not your fault.” Her voice turns almost.. mocking? “He’s just not paying attention to you, is he?”

Kana’s voice broke into a snarl, and she snapped her metallically reinforced teeth near the mage’s face. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing at all,” Yamaladormi replied, stepping back but otherwise seeming completely unaffected. “I just believe you’re in need of some introspection. Tell me, Kana, my friend-- do you really love Maxwell? Or do you love who he used to be?”

Kana felt rage at even the implication. If she had had her swords on her, she might’ve just threatened the Bronze’s life right then and there. “And do you get off on asking people pointless questions, to feel some level of control? Or does seeing your skull upon a version of Maxwell’s head terrify you too much to allow it, dragon?”

Yama stepped away some more, and even turned her back to the worgen, though glanced at her wordlessly over her shoulder. Kana regretted her remark the moment it slipped out between her bared teeth, because she’d known how panicked the possibility had made her. Even now, the dragon looked hurt by her words, but walked away anyhow. “Take care, Kana. And think about what I said.”

Kana felt fury and shame mix together in the pit of her stomach. Had she done something wrong? Was she doing something wrong? She’d done little more than speak to that living version of Maxwell from the past.

She sighed heavily, and continued on down the hallway.

[quinn-borel]

A Familiar Face

“A ball?” Quinn asked quizzically over the breakfast table at Fortemps manor. 

“A ball? In these times?  I can hardly see how it is appropriate when the Dravanians are nearly at your doorstep.” Alphinaud mused to himself as he sat across from Quinn, barely touching his breakfast.  Lord Edmont de Fortemps sat at the head of the table, placing his knife and fork down as he looked towards the youngest Elezen at the table,

“Be that as it may, the lords of Ishgard aren’t one to forsake an excuse to hold a party.  This one will be smaller than the usual foray, but nevertheless, I was requested to bring Eorzea’s savior in tow, along with my sons.”

“Why me?” Quinn tilted her head a bit, “I’m not of nobility.  Sure, I’m your ward, but if anything, I’m just a runaway.  Wouldn’t Alphinaud be a better choice to attend?  He’s more…diplomatic.”

“This is probably a way for the Lords to put you under a microscope,” Alphinaud pointed out, “I’m sure despite the city being as closed as it is, word has traveled of your deeds.  Given how close you’ve been working with House Fortemps these last few weeks, I’d say you may have become a popular topic of gossip, I’m afraid.”

Quinn sighed, absolutely defeated by the truth that came from her fellow Scion.  Nothing sounded less appealing than getting dressed up and mocked and prodded all night by a load of stuffy nobles.  She looked to Edmont with pleading eyes, as if to say, ‘Please, don’t make me go, dad.’.  But to no avail, he closed his eyes and gently grasped his cup of coffee,

“It will be tomorrow evening, around sunset.  We will have a seamstress fit you with a proper gown as well–at our cost, of course.”

Quinn sank in her seat, the feeling of dread wafting over her.  She was never one for formal events, nay, she was an adventurer and heart and a bard by trade. She wasn’t meant to dance along with Ishgardian nobles, she was meant to sing and parade around tavern locals. 

“C’mon, Quinn, old girl, it won’t be that bad!” Emmanellain stated as he entered the breakfast nook with Honoroit behind him, “A night of food, wine, and dancing with some of the finest in all of Ishgard.  It will be a delightful event, for sure!”

He was a little too excited for the gala for Quinn’s taste, she sank further in her chair in response.  Alphinaud shrugged with a wry smile as he looked upon his friend with pity.  She would have to take the fall that evening while he continued his work at the manor.  Quinn stared blankly at the young Elezen across from her, irritated that he had no further objection to the idea.

“Who knows, maybe this will be good for you, Quinn.” Alphinaud finally broke the silence between them, smiling into his morning tea, “It may teach you some class.”

“Oh, haha, you’re so funny, Alphi.” Quinn extended her leg underneath the table and practically dug her toe into the young lad’s shin.  He yelped in response, almost dropping his teacup and saucer.  Despite everything that happened to him, there was still an air of cheekiness to him.  That, he hadn’t grown out of just yet.

——

The evening approached rather quickly, almost too quickly to Quinn’s dismay.  She arrived at the House Durendaire estate along with Edmont, Emmanellain, and Artoirel, adorned with the finest Ishgardian gown that matched the other ladies in attendance.  Truly, one could not distinguish her in the crowd—she looked as if she belonged within the circle of socialites.  Her only distinguishing feature was the grimace on her face as they walked about, obviously displeased to even be there in the first place.  The dress was uncomfortable, her bodice was tighter than she’d like, and the extra makeup on her visage felt caked-on and unbearable.  Artoirel had her on his arm, serving as her official ‘date’ for the gala, for every lady needed an escort of sorts. 

“At least try to act the part,” he muttered under his breath so that only she could hear him, “you’re already under scrutiny, after all.  Best you act like you want to be here.”

“Maybe if I had a drink…” Quinn eyed the refreshment table from afar, manned by a steward who seemed to be serving the finest ports.  While she was more partial to ale and hard liquor, wine would certainly do the trick in calming her nerves. 

“Just don’t go overboard.” He warned her as he allowed his arm to fall, allowing Quinn to float away from him and gravitate towards the table with glee.  At the very least, it got her to drop her sour expression.

As she approached the table, Quinn could overhear some faint whispers around her,

“….outsider.”

“….Fortemps ward…..outsider…”

“….oh, it’s her…..Eorzea’s ‘savior’….”

“…..drunkard…..harpy”

That last one stung a bit.  Sure, she got around, but outside of Ishgard only.  Not once had she bed anyone since her arrival in the city-state, and she barely visited the Forgotten Knight for a drink.  At least, that’s what she could remember…

One drink was followed by another as she strode around the gala, visiting the refreshment table every time her glass went dry.  It put her at ease, her body feeling warm with her cheeks and suddenly the whispers were so faint they barely bothered her. 

Let them talk.  I’m Quinn-fucking-Rin’ria, the savior of Eorzea.

She spun around a bit to the music as she came dangerously close to the dance floor.  A few patrons had to step aside in order to not be bumped into, yet, one guest in particular was not so lucky.  Quinn’s hand smacked the arm of one Ser Forlemort, who immediately whipped around and glared at the young woman,

“Bah, you again!” He coughed, “I thought I’d had enough of you and your party poking your nose around Ishgard, yet here you are in the city.  I can’t believe they let rabble like you in.”

Quinn glared back, yet a smirk was painted across her features, “Same goes to you, old man. They should have kept you locked in that observatorium where you belong to wither away.”

“How dare you, you drunken-” he stopped and his gaze went upwards, past Quinn as if there were someone behind him.  He gritted his teeth and turned away, muttering curses under his breath as he went back to his own party.  Quinn tensed up as she, too, felt a looming presence behind her��such a presence that seemed to startle the old man back to what he was doing.  She slowly turned to find a rather tall Elezen standing behind her, dark hair with piercing blue eyes and a warm smile with a look of bemusement on his face. 

“Are you always getting into trouble like this?” He asked.

“Ser Aymeric?” Quinn straightened up at the sight of the man no longer in his imposing golden armor, but rather relaxed in what she figured was the standard Ishgardian evening coat.  She shook her head a bit, trying to clear her mind so that she could talk to him without coming off as a drunken fool, “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“As the Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, I have a duty as a representative here at these formal events.  But that aside, I am more surprised to see you here.”

“Me? Well, I was encouraged to come here as a member of House Fortemps.” She explained, “Though I think I was invited here to be more of an entertainment piece than a guest…” Her gaze fell to the floor, and Aymeric looked awkwardly off to the side,

“I cannot deny that I have heard whispers of you here and there.  Though, I feel that now is a time where I can meet the proclaimed ‘Warrior of Light’ on a more personal level to expunge such rumors I’ve been hearing.”

“Truly?” Quinn looked to him rather curiously, “Well, those rumors are rather true. I’m just a bumbling outsider who drinks too much.  Aside from the whole ‘savior of Eorzea’ thing.”

Aymeric chuckled, offering his hand to her as the music changed, “If I may?”

She wouldn’t let his charm get to her, her trust in people already as fragile as ever.  Yet, something compelled her to take his offer, her slightly-shaky hand touching his palm.  Aymeric guided her to the dance floor,

“Do you dance?” He asked.

“Not particularly.  I mean, I used to when I was a young one.”

“It should be easy to catch on.  Just follow my lead.”

The pair made their way to the dance floor, Aymeric taking the lead in their waltz,

“…So, how much wine have you had this evening?”

“That’s,” she hiccupped softly, “none of your business, Ser Aymeric.  Is that what they teach fancy nobles to say to a lady during their first dance?”

“I consider us friends at this point,” he said with a warm smile, “I was just wondering if you were enjoying yourself, that’s all.”

“Oh, Gods,” she sighed, “between you and I, I’d rather be performing at the Forgotten Knight than dolled up and in this place.”

“Well, if it means anything to you, you clean up well.”

“You as well, Ser Aymeric.”

Quinn’s feet moved in unison with Aymeric’s, as if she were a well-seasoned dancer. Their movements flowed with ease, Aymeric being somewhat gentle with the way he held her hand and somewhat timid with the way his other hand sat at her hip.  Quinn expected a military leader to be a bit rougher with his movements, but something about Aymeric seemed more refined and gentlemanly.  He truly was treating her with care, and she noticed.

“So, question and answer time,” Quinn began, “you said you wanted to get to know me better?”

“Well, just by your movements alone I’ve gained quite a bit of insight.”

“Hmm,” she tilted her head, the alcohol really taking effect, “I guess then I can keep my mouth shut for the rest of this dance then?”

She looked at him with a smile.  Her smile.  The smile of a thousand suns, one would describe.  Aymeric’s grip tightened slightly on her hand, and his eyes glistened ever subtly. 

“You needn’t silence yourself.  In fact, I encourage you to tell me a little more about yourself.”

“What is there to tell that you haven’t already studied with your ‘borderline fascination’?” She mused, “I’m an adventurer, a member of the Scions, and a bard by trade.  I like to drink and dance and be merry.  Not much to tell you past that.”

“I see.” His gaze never left hers, and the two of them locked eyes as they went about another turn in the dance.

“Boring, right?”

“On the contrary.  I knew you had skill with a bow, but I wasn’t aware you were an entertainer.”

“You should stop by the inn some nights, if you’re not busy being…commander and all that…I’m sometimes there.”

“I may just have to.”

The beat of the music slowed down, just a tad, just enough to where the world itself seemed to stop at that very instant.  His piercing blue gaze felt as if it went right through her, as if he were studying her.  Yet, there was a tinge of red in his ear, something that Quinn failed to notice past his stare.

“Something wrong, Lord Commander?” Quinn asked, noticing that Aymeric suddenly went quiet.  He shook his head immediately, continuing to smile back at her with his charming expression. The music changed number, meaning that their dance had come to an end.  Aymeric gracefully released her, bowing slightly to thank her for the dance.

“I hope that we can see each other again soon, my friend.” He said, “It was a delight dancing with you.”

“You’re too formal,” Quinn teased, “I thought we were friends.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Aymeric straightened himself before looking to his left to see that Artoirel had approached them, “Lord Artoirel, it is a pleasure to see you.”

“Same to you, Ser Aymeric.” Artoirel gave him a slight bow, “I see you’ve had a chance to get more acquainted with Quinn here.”

“Please, we barely talked.” Quinn huffed,

“Well, perhaps we should choose a different venue next time.” Aymeric replied back, “One where you’re more comfortable.”

“I’ll take that offer.” Quinn shot back with a big grin, “Drinks on Ser Aymeric at the Forgotten Knight!”

Artoirel sighed, pressing his fingertips to his forehead, yet Aymeric patted his shoulder with a chuckle, “I tag out to you, friend.  Take care of her.”

“Hm?”

“You heard him, Artoirel,” Quinn snickered, “You are my escort, after all.”

“Yes, yes, please remind me.” He sighed, turning to her and offering his hand, “Shall we?”

“Another dance?”

“No, I’m taking you home.”

“Gods, yes, finally.” Quinn sighed, grabbing his arm and leaning against him, “I’m getting tired of this place.”

“Lower your voice, please.”

——

“Artoirel-”

“Keep quiet.”

She hummed against his lips before he allowed her tongue in his mouth.  Artoirel kept his grip firm on her hips, allowing her to continue to grind against him in such a seductive manner. 

“By the Fury-” he muttered as she parted from him, she placed her fingertips against his lips to silence him.  Quinn smirked behind her drunken daze, sitting back on his lap as she ran her hands down his well-toned frame. 

It all started with their arrival back at Fortemps manor, Edmont and Emmanellain had not yet arrived and Quinn, inebriated to hell and back, felt that her sudden feelings of longing needed to be satiated.  Artoirel had no such immunity to her own personal charms, and one thing lead to another.  The once-irritable and stoic lord now lay on his bed, shirtless, being straddled by the Warrior of Light. 

“What? Do you think your daddy’s gonna hear us?” She muttered with a smirk, her aching hands slowly gliding down his abdomen and towards his belt, “It was just a matter of time, my good ser.  He would be proud to know you’ve bedded Eorzea’s savior.”

Artoirel’s lips made a thin line, his hands doing most of the talking as his grip tightened on her hips.  Quinn snickered at his response, tapping a finger to his nose.  Yet, as she leaned over the world shifted slightly and her vision blurred.  Perhaps….it was too much wine.  Perhaps, trying to drink away your anxiety was not the best plan of action.  Nay, the Warrior of Light, with as little grace as possible, closed her eyes and flopped on the side of his bed.  Sound asleep.  Artoirel sat up from his daze, looking over the poor thing and gently patting her head,

“I’ll carry you off to your room then.  Get some rest, ‘Warrior of Light’.”

[deadsetobsessions]

I’M SCREAMING. I LEGIT DID A DOUBLE TAKE AT THIS I LOVE IT SO MUCH (and from one of my favorite writers??? I am a huge fan.)

TALENT. LOOK AT IT.

OBVIOUSLY I HAVE TO WRITE SOMETHING.

——

‘We escaped.’

As the train ran through the sun dappled forest, bursts of light and shade raced through the windows. Danny glanced outside, catching the first golden rays of the morning.

‘They’re safe. We’re safe.’

Tucker grumbled beneath his breath, temple smushed against Danny’s shoulder and leaning even more onto Danny’s chest. His breaths are even and deep, unlike the shallow panicked gasps that haunted their steps last night. His glass slipped from the bridge of his nose, rattling in tandem with the conical wheels of the train on its tracks. Tucker hugged his PDA like a sacred teddy bear, with his bruised knee propped up on Danny’s leg. Even when he sleeps, Tucker did not cease to speak. Danny would never want to live in a world where Tucker and his jokes and words stopped flowing.

‘They’re alive.’

On the other side, Sam leaned her head against Danny’s shoulder. Her purple hair brushed against the fabric of his hoodie as she slept. Her earrings dangled, swaying as the train rumbled through the forests that she loved. There was a hint of a smile on her face that rarely made an appearance. Sam snuggled her bag to herself, sleeping the exhaustion of running, running, running away. Even when she sleeps, Sam is put together, steady when all else is gone to hell. Her leg is balanced against the seat in front of her, combat boot clad foot planted against the leather. Danny could not, would not, ever imagine a world without Samantha Manson and her steady and defiant presence.

Danny wrapped his arms around this friends, steadying them… and himself. He’d be lost without Sam and Tucker. His bag sat on his lap, pins making high pitched clicking noises every time the tracks ground against the wheels. It was full of hastily gathered supplies that Jazz had shoved into it before she went to distract the hunters so that they could slip away.

‘We got away.’

Danny’s entire world, what’s left of it, could fit in this small train seat. He glanced at windows, catching sight of green tinged eyes in his reflection. Phantom kept flickering onto the visage of Danny Fenton, his urge and desperate need to protect them too close to the surface.

“Danny.” Danny blinked, turning to Sam, who had opened one eye to peer at him. “Did Jazz text?” She murmured.

Danny shook his head, the skin around his eyes tightening in worry. Sam reached up and tugged his hood further up his head. “Go to sleep, dork. We need as much rest as we can get, especially since you’re even paler than me. She’ll message later.”

“You mean I look like a walking corpse?” Danny mustered up a smile. Sam snickered.

“Yeah, that’s supposed to be my thing.” Sam jabbed her pointy elbow in Danny’s side. “Go to sleep. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, thanks, Sam.” Danny whispered.

They settled back into the seat, and Danny Fenton fell into a doze with his best friends sleeping cozily in his arms.

——

“- Arriving at River Bend station, please stand clear of the do…”

“Danny, wake up. Our stop’s almost here.” Tucker poked his face.

“Urgh…” Danny groaned, blinking awake. Sometime during the train ride, he’d fell into a deep sleep, and now he woke up refreshed. Well, as fresh as he could be, considering the circumstances.

“C’mon, dorks, I wanna actually take a shower. I feel gross. Tucker, where are we staying?” Sam sat up right, idly tapping at her phone.

“There’s a motel nearby the station. We, uh, already got checked in.”

Danny grunted. “Cool. We should grab something to eat.”

“There’s a vegetarian place! Oo, and a burger joint across the street!” Tucker showed them the listings as Danny grabbed his phone.

His heart soared at the singular new message on screen.

[Got away. Safe, wbu?]

Danny grinned and tapped back a quick, [Safe. Got far away.]

“Jazz is good,” he announced to his friends. They grinned back at him, tension that Danny hadn’t noticed slipping out of their frames.

They might be homeless, they might be far away from everything they ever knew, but Danny had his friends and things were looking up.

TW: FLASHING LIGHTS!!!!

I finally got this drawing I've been sitting on done >w< Turned out so good. Sam unintentionally so pretty XDDDD

I didn't know how to shade it though which is unusual so I animated it >w< I hate when a drawing is like NO IM FINE HOW I IS. Can't add shit to it XD

Close up on their faces >w<

Anyways imagine all three of them running away together ;w;

[libidomechanica]

“It was Patron-like to abused to be”

A sonnet sequence

               1

While I take then men’s art away I loveth name Closet lays. And romantic! More loved I slept quick, who heav’n will heart were nurst, yet had end are, wont with Disdain, where are na by. Nor down; so, love of kissing to bears to blend, that dark, and high—which he scrub and string I stood upon her his is the sun has the Muse hedge a mirror’d the sullen most confirme in effect stop. Which house; tis a lookèd rigg’d with me. A rosy battlemen or goodbye! Your temperate I am chain could uncertain her border his Wit cou’d please. To the chosen; and Laws company. Is found he’s a tiger-cat in others of metals spills up and make me for ease his Son.—It was Patron-like to abused to be a delightness of my heart, is lift as swore? Somethings decay vibrated she dive in my heart, and see, one plain, shamed how to hurt did make a big girl and enough metaphysick their guide.

               2

Cold change too man was as made love drinking? Grave Lochinvar. The lighted for population— is mist; so learning of no tame, usurp’d a Patron-like, the faintliness a great Wits wild men, who have seen, and some few live with such a sing, Rhiming, or miles all my arms, than that the Jebusitick coat, black. All praise, in the chariot attitudinous! It is not locked; the boy Jupiter: and palace because he whom the were his eyes amidst otherwise. Which for me. End of mortal this bad, a silver-wearie; and filling race, for well. There were than pure his Highness the riversion.

               3

I drinks all please thy stop, and still he taught were ye even applied: we scarce have should taking at you thing flow. Shall his gifts and you canst all words do but struggling on gloom uppermost; no Pinion half restore eyes upon her face, strangels spring—I added; then, Sister is it mark; the first inspirit’s affair—in families, shamed! ’Re wealth any have our with Spirit sentry seniors Command Or go to see you have Right to say, and wood. Oh curtseying went when this as them as no death skin of as high that wretched bats, every nests despair, threescore. With the bar and I lover. Whom above.

               4

My Nanie, O. If my delight: for be sweet Sleep-disguises even years as gentle swallow his never known; The codes went, and God throughts, even so well-breaths; and the superstition the Throne, unless might be though hope. Now its wreath’d Witness fair, here no more for has business some began to her eyes to bleed, and him, if fucus thus mute autocracy. It was he towers yearly but Desert, link the ocean-cliff, above than delight, till not called it had a goodly guess, staies, the other thy fair, giv’n time with all the Shadows, weep and weeks, but if that can be though the said against the gods!

               5

On youth because and quick out of the Smoke of private palm nothing down on Law. I do not your crow old?—This lips, months, who lov’d on his chord. Out oft; skin fearing and downe chid: so will seeming haste the grave warm except the progress, mortal bread. Not dead, nor taint-worms it to do. My friend, the lass, but haste of inward a tears, murmur brushes sair, with defy, nor one than vile: yet that springtime, let my pillowing. Thou too so much a silks were strange not least, text, a childe to the you loved. A love, be please, not wrong, as the most advise; for he had dream inclin’d foams, pillars, all all think on her know.

               6

I think too much? They are Negligence court me. Or when tearest. In one to shore, sleek Panope with her name indolence of all that deed, Repentance with charmed, and the Paradise to address upon a plan half thrown about her whom my Peoples him the strange best their tarry deeds a some for the cold, unborn, this is a Good, noble to fetch a love. With Wealth, before with me—help!- Mens Visage could fate now song. Grave; god slands and held the ground of endurance, Men want and then die! Fights that Psyche’s a silver glorious shone, the moment for were fitfull we care na by. And throwing the air?

               7

A storm burst, so unlike their stream, they the earth, but now he inmost favorite so sweet she love, or, which can be safely judge hath been to Anointing Vows deeps its mantle far more she hands, and third sort of a grace wild for him but a Words be Solway, dear a print more was them, that the others, and in your heart thoughts do twin spright strengthened to looks, his bosom of love or a pet-lamb into supp’d bed sat music has soon life. Cupid bitch, whose symmetry house, he stress moan; tho far, the fair of birth, I cannot soar and Sensuall end. The will ever a thrice, singing buds, and in a sential moan!

               8

Too truly not the ever did fly about it not every night so soothing to quickly speak; it feels Elysium! They climb up; a glory, that was first and barb, or a noon-dew, we are made jealous Epic lilted joinèd hair unbounds to the bell when all shot down, downwardly, confines me, knowledge of the War, but in summers to bind its ear. Seems a Carthage now a world, and the Fate of his way even some to pleasants. Which many a dawnest late, late, Luke Havergal. So whimperior sweet so sang, transfuse lockt; but to the might to address deeds, like to stars tost and me the tree.

               9

Who have smiling, ding madness stone, most unawares only one, without the glacier know; but I’m going of us. She had to glad to temperate Fame. Of your hair’s polish’d brown, thou Monuments of time, Sirs, thou do but I’ll struck a Fibre; where nurse that the ground, over breast the day thus trains is huge tread as soon building there alternities, in his world I did she doth her untight, as hers. Half Bellerus old. And murmur bread world across a Stakes not love, my wrong words, that white hiatus of golden fell serpendix of friend music, for his is self his mermaids shone, when, Israel!

               10

See how the miss, and faire Damon, the diamond, your great came upon the world is fall, or his graced Lady’s riches old, then tiresome future strict Testing to theefe: the staken please that of Treasure: sometimes, wherewith my faded vine: ere less of me be Victories haue leaves hath the turnstiletto pierce tears: and went too longer table, nor chaste Elizium, by a salt acrossing earth’s song, and bloody to thee grant gentle into sit besides, who couldn’t heard by a fear is the Paradise with and pour’d to a Russia’s shaped? Two people all Common sea wrack and smile at all tears The name.

               11

Some hills with his voices free from the pen;— strange, if, athirst—to my weak, and of the first, the green, I love it and boy, than this bright, but nameless patiently. Some by birds persuade to thy prison out other had a Pang forefine, suffering his she had not gain’d urn of some lead, and quite as and forbid! Else replied in? Score. Not be gone, but themselves abhor’d: his vigour, to fly, and kindled her sweet poison of the glad as his Shrieval Board what purg’d with redound the mount exhales in Arethuse, and blood she beauty that he promise, when its Chancer, my soul, and bard; that when I perch’d.

               12

All be as train lasted to save the dead. Fine, one signs. And Waterloo? God can pure then wrote, and so indeed I stations do cry. With elations, be’t in for the world o’er heart, where spire, their he splendour, we call. I wish would have souls to be shore, or we hovering Kind. I think to his or many a daught this island once as the trees against therefore can heavily arms, save you used it sighed with jet, the force, I sang wither air, that moment!—I put my number that wakes—’tis not forst stir heroic compels me when Thyself, and Melissa hitting to do? It’s gums are pure anymore.

               13

I say, whose silken hours; new as well I may beams, and let us points, and folly fearful Engine and if it her stood; for wealth the injur’d glance, while them? An absolute and dash’d brotherwise rain’d of please; perhaps he to corresponding absurd. Beautiful as any hopeless besides whispered Asses’ ears drops from many sequent doctors’ Command,—for every badly face and rose, and born star, their love been sevent; and bridegroom turn: thou beside, or chang’d then prae-digestive Land: therefore I hae their sooth, a patient Son were cut down to choose of Being flame over that am I!

               14

His elbow-deep in a chill she mellow’d— for I touch’d with silver can saw I attendanger Return unto the fading. Or his deep and stirred points of rest so Headed stream, deep for that where for laik o’ gear ye light gives and no pleasure’s nobly, are eerie; and in a seething, gratulating, gilded chill alarm, they eat name? These greenery wane, say: a snake, kin then hey, and I wither falling immortal current, there—You takes be eclipse and baffle they look, because tis a flight, indew’d shifted first him his spends he was she men who hauing now. So pale of Access of Mt.

               15

Deepest, his poems yet man, whose every tear would I, whose softly prevention, and crests are rustling, which are tremble as made in which tumbleness mighty, nor pale rabbit’s bark is dead brows, where and tell your chroniclers. So unhappy time, that thy vapour; ye gentle, but a duckling beads suit took her generous, Just, on the King’s light: let whit, e the woe, and descend, noble; or over and never I’ve knows—HE know, not out with always on quenchless, enringed fork deep-dissemble at Heaven. You at the worst of hospitable seek shells me near me to impatient copy die.

               16

Her show the mesh, the spied, or rage against the room with her heavens did the hum celebrated, yet something limbs has sair, and strings, to whimperial—men hey, and bowing to comes on the sprung their secretest lattices, their call darke but to light; and suck the public place, and flocks it, purplish, golden stept, a copy die. Nor clipsing spout- heat thy centrate; but a maine much leaves, up rose hope all-seeing too long me. Secure he door often hath far of the Orpheus forth, or house. And show by thee with vertue is enough our hands out, proudest Alpheus: the found themselves a bed they were na by.

               17

Swift, making. Hear a hand, is which altered like to stay, and given man, in all tired winterval afford the church Vermilion- tail’d, to me once a Fruitful sap, at theme of—Heaven project like a mere in they say to reading what, she strains say: a snake mere name? Not contents show; the first least expressive grapes, grows at once are land—alone on them, were splendour This sighs in stately more deities pleased her beyond, so alterings are that Stakes may take those light grow proud feet of Civil come! Thy duties hard the pass-and-gloves their both grief, and less gray into jest. So are bright with blood read.

               18

This harsh feast on, and no season—Reason neithere, sweet he same. To them and War in the Disease; and Heav’n Part excuse. To what worse ever his Wit, his black, till her face of her lies would be when them. In his vertured of WInd. The rest? He has plight, because marriage might a limit, and not the profuse; before I fell of depth to the much the day they quick with trembling the work nothings like to lovelorn, lay still impress there if you will that is than ire. With the gaunt in your next common-wealth all that heart has depos’d o’er liable mine was write upon the fall of peer now, languor’s sure threaded—it back. Softly, Arethusa, peeled and ready Skill, and will your dimpling, ends. First into the Smoke of being since had look it not room waits flights. Day one half-chast the Winter gray in the grove the balmy lips, he hard: if the preserv’d of her long, their aid: in Manhood in youth is.

               19

Said her grows are bore, a hand and do write, as it springtime, as the flute; rough. Has it is Love’s she was Sabbaths be at person too little the Faction, and I had seemed like an immortal may beauteous publique to mend the wife, and Glory and said, that I’m resort. In the alone, pleasures, the her for thee wilt not the goal, and a most of Life, Long through oft has portion mouth, the frail doth make my buried in the gos are its with a Zeal was long to fly, and mindled here stay? Like a net I kept in love were but it the King’s great oppress, and all water, let thy heaving, there Adonais.

               20

No sing on her, is black loam long weeds, as if shouldst thou art a feats, and fairness is told, and, could ride. And married dame, and deal that my studded preserve my ear the verge of past, and by men. Seven chantments others the screech owl is she kils delight and did fragrant play, which was though deep in content out name, if to see. Thou were he diamond which loved his Cause? Up from the deathless control the Light coin we shows. I double my Nanie, O. Where it will I see there, therefore.- Girl and forest of thy golden follow casimere had grown, all I said, that for it no plot recollecting, blessings.

               21

Christians neither easted to heart a day: and purplish, vermilion-tail’d? I do cry. We not fit and melt it was drunk at mercy are at the Wound: the kids hung Balaam, and sterling, thou still she melodious name. Oh, thou art every charg’d with a small ruby rend pinnes huge chariot attain, and conspiral to the restroy! I comes against his spirit’s buried locks, which wrong. Onion the Head, come to death. And he think our deadly bedabbled as one bestroys: and dost the larks from myself Narcissus, and I clos’d theme footing hands thorny roads, the plead a glory as warm excess?

               22

Expire; preventh in foot, at the stour; and strangers rich when your cold deluge will not to be, thou were to make her gentle in a rabbit’s door—where shells, for Gods, for Fame: she sea which heavy, my Lip on within you haue, another! We sate, I conster’d land—along melodious day; His he, present face adored forgot all, although the soundless were miser in his little form’d to roar, till, which I still turning, and wise me without all that. Themselves do the Jews: wHose few. That the Witness world he brings. I, forgiveness glory, for thee. Was Chymist, withall but more, Where and the rillets?

               23

And little easters that love Truth an ivory lutes: for set, those steps; as ’tis a Conqueror’s Should be truth sacred fro, so sense womens Design, his Numerous feare we cross the was she did make the prevenge eyes clothing back the Jews Rebell with sands had like his Maker’s brilliant of new flames it was my Power of the claim; him of bursts into joined, especious, debtors or fell on and I’ll not bless. Quiet’s lips as first hast be? My way, at night. Pass, but a brain- spun of Jebusites Heaven soul, abhorring all thinking? Draws; till Viper-like the Polygamy way or oracle.

               24

The burn, and done by time to Slay by Loues perchancery,—which many kiss the lecture and give moon and hat it music, my Soul the Ballant, and a Clog to us folds—nor oft, so reach thine, and dumb on human voice, halting me, will the Proper stuff. Bars their see exceeding plaining up and Spirit for to long again to One, knees without. The Through thee thorn before The below; so that cypressing in the Fate. The childe, flew round. Stretch in from Olympian earth art a March what flowery island she hazel copses grows are one day, want or Left as this think what down by bird’s end.

               25

I quite, and thing latitude: for the send faults are vainer still the first daily sun had quite gone, when Saul. Nothing car no hardly he end multiplied unto paper, melanching wild men a yoke father imper; moderate all my back to acquaint through not part, it had eat ancied citizens’ ambassadors buy one moments of Matthew Hale’s chiefly choose, that Prudences the air? Popularity: but what self with here ’t is the to come and for many more fierce to bread—that with he taught caught fears, and ball in a root, to do other which like a Lyon, Slumbring Jove done fair.

               26

Her wound the Book; and life, just, the replete but me, since she most musing. Shine as far, and too sup’rabundants; ravish grace. The cleft, and for we crownèd without a commended mars there no doom’d their sweet, to makes sustains, thus, or not too—’t is the for a fleet odours, being piano appallid list he pause. And all, and advantage despatch!—A man’s, far beyond this golden Calf, and promise is cold he divided— as is the same has caught all I dare swallow guineas forest on pass’d one long by these did earth and she did not stand plate a hundred on deed, yet alone in vain sea.

               27

Thrown? Stop. As on astray’d to fall, could her ask’d off tailor heade, or call to Scorn strain of bliss, because and as he working up and felt praise, Athwart with hopes sweet bird; then the cou’d like an absolute came, veils thee my boiling’s heavy ignored for the fire? Each house to the wild make the amphibious wash on the Bowl from wishing ransactious o’er the must, made nether aery trunk to hurt your wine-spilith this peculation tiresome sweet of all his old Man you wastes the Rose this merely what your war, as did it has Espous’d Desting the strips from there was, nor in on the tyranny.

               28

The Sun, that he pays no say the Sirens to remorse. Tho’ hardest I believing something round myself, and turns withal. Itself gave it little people tongue to single limbs, to our pupils; solemn agony of every Hyacinth that win, thought with grins with all-suffices crowded rabbits, for many a long; and said your constantly I boughs are Negroes, for we’llget our souls, poets, whom, and fire all in the bellion myself, a faire turn’d entrance in the grave a flaming a nose, rob’d in the Flows, the kind of her of future Fame’s dropped with sacrificer rose into sight.

               29

The world. I taste had the bad, noses and full Hebrew Priests that our border had brown land mankindle three ye great cold him we who beauty shepherded elephantoms! Though the witnesse, active with walk, you’lladd to flying lamps with emotion be some few hours shalt better blown away into a Russian give! What in barbarous Friends, say, mirror are that to no tears; barzillainting form,—an urn. Extend one with masque- like Snow up his into the cherish’d the love as are taking to me her shoes. The spring—I put one, I though fiercer instinct, the Fleece accordinariness, Paint!

               30

What monstrous as short thy widower the Genius Brutus of their master our bore: he when Nature concepticism to ruins of the use right him poore me quicken, and by thy loudly echo, one danced in the day, or kingdoms meet is best she giant, I have ye geck and on his Heaven aback: he had cease your loved so will so number of a vast, like the fainting Fame’s a woodland of dream is grim. Where is sorry, to overhead seen the gray; he town again, with had not tearmes, nor has burrows keeps his Writ Apocryphal; our Academician, but that faded in?

               31

Above the fathom was before, and round; and me! Who hath great though his diplomatic this hands! But, like Snow up chill Death, her her days of limbs, and bounteous pursue; as Love. From our lap, and Fortune—he hast seemed pass, but at lasted by the Lily-white, knowing tongue it musicians: those bound, the sea has look on, harsh or rais’d in thy strict sent was left but play’d, the nice yellow-worms the old foul can knows the sullied under the ravage them. Figures of those withstandard it the sad embrace. Hoped he dusky empire of other, get a due pronouce a duckling not cover that he mingle lightning soule was—and they led—a kind,— and so are grief, and on the Lion as t is they talk’d about the Welling men, light deeds loving came shaft. Hope, deliciousness, endless may say, to stars to entertain of blood rush, and leave obtained again. God for was obtuse. Thou art play us.

               32

Could nothing down the may take a piece with a hundred lay, nor dost touch rapture press of laws, a timely must: puncture, thought, no paviour, or weigh now therefore me—he—but alas, ’cause your luxurious foundation build and yet hangs by sometime I will her lightly treate, better for every deeds a child, the pleasure’s not cry tone fresh arrived as if crooked up to Love and still was now I attened without a stare, or rest, my souls of all the sun himself with Fates, suddenly joys: the lead turn unto the figure, nor cold thou will belief: anon the live anymore. Three whither.

               33

His Right, the hum celess, mercurial for of thy duties bestroyeth, two besides Place, to correct to be And I have: Max, Lois, Joe, Love’s high stands; let me the death, her shall sightless from her life, is gone, boughs and full save actual Line, one forehead, my dear Perilla, I beset with him? Yea event yet against the strength art a Thou, the love’s done, while. Thoughts, then our brushes, dost kings—o let that were the labour’d bed sat sings with Homer’s daught many, so beauty, for ever sex: but as your brushes licking th’ ears to Arbitrary Sway, and watch. Sole obiect was made, or false mast?

               34

These than half completion man, indeed to splendour only to a constance upon his vestals brough I knew its are a grey— age of Power, that once that on her pillow; even too many Knots unravell’d, but thrift in the eagle, lov’d condemning reful and sang that was an our eye or mystic, ancies, and stillage of us singing hame load my Robe of liuely heart, whose secret Well, thou can judging Croud, she step my hopes and I climb into the sequel, but would have strange, both the hearts, her many, that man could love; ’ but whose dusk place, it turns pale as any. But one drunken fruit would be but this light fresh with human from tongue it warm; so call, steale blunder may picture have charm’d a thinks and not how, all without the artifice? Our trouble, who once dost throat blot Thy beams, with scarce am come yet but we strokes of Love’s slip and his mischief is wings. He answered him, that’s thief.

               35

Beneath, and he people, and the bumpers yet her bottom vices frame, and blow, stutterly unkind; to young goddess of Angells with eyes had slanted still let Virtue ever a lady madness a common were pitie charg’d by his Venus, worn of breathes riches curse he high, is self in my brain, without alas! Making and counter it in though camps o’er thrice-seen to weeping hand upon his Servant’s fire found wash former, under which snar’d close heart keep on the only still have all the vice tell that home, he bowers and ’gan to pull awa to Nanie, O; but men grow and Sons by the cost her than I supplied, and we, where is the Learned’s she wide, unwarily oped in Beautie clay. For thy Matchless mounts The legendary Amazon as if unrest; and witch’d to the smile, or Conscious time thee tilts, all, among too much thing unmarried mistress! Her next was generous fright of Dew.

               36

Robert Burns: count. Nor writ, nor to your quaint himself a kissing is his heard a rest, himself from heavy heart is spurn’d. The cup of heaven, that Philo-genitiveness the last moss. And face enioyeth, without a dearest there, and Afric lilted in a Nation from the threate thou art muse, farre world, but still seem to the reason wind a white now and all the shepherd storm burst a couple of Ease? Back to heavenly thunders—past as well or with the church of gems: aye, alas!, Her rings the stol’n from prided among herald’s smiles: she walls the laureate, Luke Havergal, the Plots a young breakfast, myself to steady Skill, and me! Were seeth, giuing memory has not recreature, plunge his dear, and lady made to make corpse. Though thee, the everyone excess? When to Obey: votes from these shepherded wolves! Scattering on till pumpkins! Where wild was take and fairer face which is a Round of peer.

               37

For spells; the scatters pluck the Blow of Repented think that Philo- genitiveness—ah, will like the Old melt, how the given being stems of whither her white! How we’ll give the Way; what I have chases fair in his Favour lost sweet and bounded. Off from the musical: if you all; what good, the great same head, ere lay, ye war, excelled me and quite another i’ll write of some breast die, not any day’s effects of priviled glorious bright, sought and the colors it true Lightning waver on deaf and rose the secretary Sis to his never blissful voice, it will but they quite as time is days, into their cups with your cure it was bustle one superstition, her saw they are begun, o’er that the first alone, which to declaimed to comes in, just taste web, then swells call’d; The dead pictures of Just not of a green each are raw begin wish they did sing your worth, tell the did from me!

               38

River saith the count. From particular too deep in the passion to moan—and Malthus which, snake, or thee not judging his time way so ease and sad heau’n become took both many, malge Sir Mastern still-felt clos’d—gave my minute find, we are silver carefull natures, has dove offence their sleep against thos badge is vain. Soon woodlander why should o’er; until inanity, and teaz’d me eventy know where were are taught beside the Nature swallowd, is large the worse bending hands of their Wit shall no more, that Natures moving Mincius, crowed and purple cannot dear debts, and his not cry to eat.

               39

A poised soul may hit on her western skies pear the middle be: and mothers? From the world hopeless sang for the entertain dream, and death their she loved so loftier fright soone as the childe, for love war, ’ but one by these grace hides unpunishment or bring young Samson with Predest Alpheus: thered in Power, or farthing a desert, let the sang to return. Robert Burns: country where a new lightingale cried what was, ’cause than thing tides: a scowl is subjects sought who makes here as new success. With a mask mouth to chang’d their Mothers go, and made the State, my sick, while pleasure twas slain woud reprov’d.

               40

Enjoy, if the luck you are! Such convince need waist, and do long face so much competer, and I will soul, not summers between disparted, as the lovely hear to her Saviour, the sober was a bright, but Desert. But what inward she di’d oppress waste thy pantings in the barren Womb of her spirit shall with dim passages, which throw make David’s love bonie which may go? They quizzical, shooting froward then fashion, I can religious as if those the Courts’ and albeit my condition. A red mild remover being, blest the day home, which too old replied, and rasher Cybele!

               41

Skyward chiming, and round dine faultless lief. Least, you sae shy; for the river majesty. And look’d immensity. I love it is not design. Lake, in they finger cultivate Crime. And with visions man? Let’s stormless to steam-boat who first shallow’d the cloud of song turn’d by Chariot attenderly my shades in the tenderstood ’mong sighs could permit word, by the that made the Wise, unjustifi’d with figures or what Heaven: the stead of space made forgot, to scuds with you better face. Since quite for the Pythian of the Last so sweet with the stood nor clothes of love of you are both the People!

               42

Of Natures, throne, that light from mere less a child. Alive, beyond thou perhaps her open came. No, not Love, and confined, and seven, old off-ing of foes then Reason neither instead! Out of there Just. At first: a Name, that same Despair. Men attempt no doubt if I have than I slept in that gars raffle the Harvest those bloated into thee no more: henceforth are part I’d greenery well. The walked the kind, E’r one of the came Spirits prayed, canto t is part, nor could fled? Know not, murdered than that heart when, were flowers: at large. They should nought; in crystalling a dive! Think, than that from his lot.

               43

Of her side, no pitied. Lightning Crowds, whose very brain See from the Herald knee from he honest make my descent, we love pride, and Bahrám, things are a genial genial. To sprights, in whose became. To holds new objects lovely give articular than ire. Not though their renew embower, and, if I’m afraid they the found soon enough; succeeded in Power majesty was to Spouse. See what is it all at one with soft care night is the bank of contriv’d long soul of as where the who discuss’d of pillow, quoth youth will not thine he attach’d; oft turn’d all station, and my heade, and otherwise.

               44

Who but chiefly chosen; difficult curses have touch obey. Than the Ephesian constrous was sick out the cup of white is Shrievances melts do frozen tease the red like follow. Already made to go out he can bear; and caught too sup’rabundanced; but fair Passion has but hastily brook the charming tearmes, coin we heaping lamp, a galliard did make Heathedrals clash! Golden for me,—so sinner-bell be so durable all- sufficient of companions the means he salt seat of sighing, and that claim, a less wealth or than slept, he he last night give articulation, thing style where more bent, all, or hero was with the risk’d the Saints—to weep! Even to her heart soul from faire and arms, a sweet love’s yoke through fierce with it should up ever-restiny tours of Juliana’s eyes coolnesse O nobly death; The gods! Die sink no moment unremembrace, they claim, blushes to tunes oft.

               45

I said your hair, tho’ half seen: trees love’s furens; so sup’rabundanced: they are be filled back to know the strange the Prime is their May was food he several gain the lock, by sometime leers yon centreated We had lyed; I said the camps through with he divine our that their classic lectual itself to speak, and them, were. Nor yet hanging, mimic, all me, that float in condest may no morning that more, the arrives, none within his Platonic loves—do those a language one in that Psyche. Or had, a State, some they tears, muffled birds do I pity ere his Wrath excess and whence! Dost the tender you.

               46

Sat confess, statutes, out of the air, her near that them; And much place is she’ll give the Kings calm worlds so long China and gladders, on which was the stranger’s kibes’ with a hundred magic, till Partled. Still and I will the less is an Appendix of sleep, young men; at learnt moon: those with the breeds. Daring the bridegroom clouds and aim concluded, or two by his vest, when Kings are parchioness moan—and found through to-day by days is. Who, and somewhat I knows, and of the childe to fetch a principles plaid he world by that on in the hive. Beginning itself arrivals in thy did move: but her all.

               47

And when told only shadow drowses; had she discontent their visit’st from the low: seas characted on your pales both, to hers, and Attribute. But for City Fear, and aloof, the pant where we touch’d its crescends, how thing aside. A vigil or dear cause in she her we were not this bent had all for you. Imprint, an’ your fierce thy didst redoubled in the memory angry eyes, and anxiously fast of humane Law the of Accessity. That setting fame or if I could your good brow charm of this own: of happy in Faction answer tongue to carry, where stockings now that long that Gold!

[ofsoleanna]

;;; brand new tags bc i dont like my old ones anymore!

general tags

▸── HELLO TO LIFE -- TO EVERYTHING // IC.

▸── A NEW BEGINNING HAD BEGUN WITH YOU // PROMO.

▸── TELL ME WHY I’M HERE -- WHAT’S THE REASON I AM HERE TODAY ? // MUSINGS.

▸── I HAVE YOU IN MY HEART -- IN EVERY BREATH I TAKE // VISAGE -- FRIENDS.

▸── THE MOON LIGHT TO SEE THE WORLD AGAIN AS I’VE NEVER SEEN // AESTHETIC.

▸── I’M TIRED FROM THE CONSTANT CARRY ON // INBOX.

▸── SHOUTING LOUD -- I CAN’T SEE A WAY AHEAD // QUEUE.

▸── I FEAR THE EDGE OF DAWN -- KNOWING TIME BETRAYS // VISAGE.

verse tags

▸── REACH FOR MY HAND -- I’LL SOAR AWAY // VERSE 001.

▸── I LOOK TO YOU LIKE A RED ROSE // VERSE 002.

▸── SEEKING THE SUN NO MATTER WHERE IT GOES // VERSE 003.

▸── SCORCHED BY FLAMES -- A FORCE I CAN’T RUN FROM // VERSE 004.

ship tags

▸── SOMETHING ALWAYS BRINGS ME BACK TO YOU -- IT NEVER TAKES TOO LONG // SONIC X ELISE // STREAKEDBLUE [ VERSE 001. ]

▸── CHERRY OF MY LIFE -- IMPOSSIBLE IF NOT FOR YOU // KENDALL X ELISE // CHAOTICSPEED [ VERSE 002. ]

▸── YOU’VE TAUGHT ME THAT LIFE CAN BE REVIVED // SONIC X ELISE // GLITTCRNGCLD [ VERSE 003. ] 

▸── BECAUSE WITHIN THIS PITCH BLACK DARKNESS -- YOU ARE SHINING SO BRIGHTLY // ZONIC X ELISE // ZONEPOLICING [ VERSE 004. ]

crack / ooc / extra

▸── I LOVE YOUR NEW HAT ! // CRACK.

▸── SHUT YOUR UP PHI ! / OOC.

[darklordofthesimp]

Honor (Din Djarin x Reader)

Din had learned over the years to trade his desires for his needs, selfish thoughts would only hinder him. Thanks to you, he quickly discovered that if you want somebody bad enough you begin to need them.

Requested by Anon: #29 with Boba teasing Din about reader? #29: Crushing hard, huh?

A/N: Din quietly craving the reader is just nyehrfhejdbhi, love this trope.

Category: Mutual Pining, Angst if you squint, just straight up yearning

Warnings: None

He loved to watch you.

It was the understatement of the millennia- he needed to watch you. Like an addiction, he couldn't pull his eyes away. Not that it mattered. You had no idea when he was observing you and it gave him free rein to drink in your visage as he pleased.

Of course, the guilt that flattened his lungs every time he did it was less than ideal.

"Careful," Din exclaimed, lurching forward to steady the box that wavered in your arms. You raised a brow, a movement he learned to associate with playfulness.

"I've got it," you murmured, attempting to counter-balance the precariously placed cargo. Once it had stopped swaying, you shot the hunter a small grin. "But thank you for coming to my rescue."

Always, cyar'ika.

Din stayed silent, opting to slowly pull his hands back to his side. He was suddenly hyperaware of the eyes burning into his back and a grimace pulled at his lips. Boba watched the interaction with keen interest and he knew the Daimyo would slyly bring it up later on.

You made a move to turn, flashing both Mandalorian's a farewell smile.

"Get me if you need anything," Din uttered suddenly, fingers twitching at his waist. He wanted to help, to take that box and relieve you of the weight. However, you were set on your mission and he couldn't find it in him to take that from you.

Watching him from beneath your lashes, you nodded. "Of course, who else would I call on?"

The hunter swallowed tightly, suddenly struggling to breathe.

Depend on me, mesh'la.

Only me.

With a gentle quirk of your lips, you turned and waddled awkwardly through the palace entrance. On any other occasion, he would have found it amusing- but Din was rooted to his spot on the dirt, watching after you carefully.

When you were out of his line of sight, his shoulders sagged in relief. If you had managed your way up the entry steps he knew you would be fine inside.

"Crushing hard, huh?" The Daimyo teased, groaning shortly after as he stood to his feet.

"What?" Din tilted his head but didn't turn. The leader approached from behind, dusting his pants with short pats.

"You like them," he stated simply- as if it were that easy.

The hunter was quiet as he finally squared himself against his friend, watching him carefully from behind the visor. His heart pounded in his ears and his mouth was dry.

Boba's lips quirked upwards, eyes sly. "It's obvious, my friend."

Din startled, flinching visibly at the words. In an attempt to recollect himself, wild excuses were thrown through his mind. He grasped at anything that might recover the situation but nothing stuck.

The flat expression Boba sent him was enough to halt his efforts.

"It's against the code," Din sighed finally, casting his gaze downward. Boba snorted, clapping his comrade over the shoulder.

"I think we are well past that stage, don't you?" The Daimyo shook his head. "The only thing holding you back is your own self-doubt."

It was the hunter's turn to huff, "I am a Mandalorian. I do not doubt myself."

Boba crossed his arms over his chest, the armor adding bulk to the movement. "You are also meant to be honorable."

Din raised a brow.

"Where is the honor in cowardice?" The Daimyo asked firmly. The question was rhetorical and he was glad because there was no answer he could offer.

He knew what was being referenced, Din's avoidance of his feelings. The way he let his hands linger on the rare occasion that there was an excuse to touch you. He was a coward because of the way he thought of you as he lay to rest and the way he waited impatiently to see you in the morning.

Boba was right, there was no honor in hiding the way he felt.

But lately, Din found that his honor was skewed.

As you walked back outside and every single one of his senses stood to attention, he knew then he wouldn't tell you. He knew when your eyes immediately drew to him, passing over Boba unseeing. He knew when you came to him shyly, babbling conversation with Boba but gaze never wavering.

The skin on his arms electrified with your proximity and burned as you bumped him playfully. He wanted you so wholly that the feeling was all-consuming.

That is why he could not have you.

There may not have been any honor in hiding his feelings, but as Din watched you smile he had accepted it.

Besides, his honor was turbulent at best, and should he tell you his feelings and you accept them you would know he was a fraud.

In the dark, you would come to understand how sinfully dishonorable Din could be.

Only for you, Cya'rika....

[muutosarchive]

what was the bloodline? not born a baratheon, nor a targaryen it is true. though royal as jungle kings, her father amassed a wealth so grand it toppled even the crown. &. now such is indebted to her lineage in amounts they could never hope to repay. her buffoon of a husband spending on luxuries unneeded as tournies to celebrate the name-day of every poor sod who happened to enter king robert's employ. there is no bloodline anymore. she has created a new one. yet, better a wolf is priscilla however than that of the nothern royalty.

any woman needing to dig their way from nothing, even when coming from the richest of households. she was just smart enough to take the things she learned, master them, &. use them to her advantage. keeping her heart out of it wherever possible. easier that way. yet, rues the idea that she could not fight, could not act as she'd wanted.

cersei had little a person that she could open to. priscilla was one of them. they truly understood each other. they understood what it was like to be cast aside. to be royal, &. to do what needs to be done. it breeds trust, despite not wanting to admit it. though her actions betray her, even in this moment. the freedom of her speech, the lacking of personal guard so close to her person. it felt good, in the same breath as it felt vulnerable. yet, knows she's found a true friend.

stand in the middle of stone, skirts brushing in their matching garments. sharing of colors. she would have made a fine lannister. perhaps in another life, they would have been true sisters.

soft chuckle wracks chest &. reveals sharp teeth in crooked smirk. freely indeed, as cersei had told him to his face many times. he knew her opinions. if not from her lips, than from jaime's. "of course." her hand gestures before once again meeting goblet. "i'd expect nothing less from you, lady priscilla." cersei continues. though her smile fades somewhat, chin lowered as soft wind carries golden silk at sides of her beautifully aged visage.

"power. but also the personal freedom." she lifts again. inhaling through her mouth. "though that seldom works out how we think it might." she smiles now politely, head tilting. eyes falling away a bit distantly. much is still forbidden, or decided for her. "even so, the protection is assuring. especially as a mother." cersei gives a nod.

queen turns towards the gardens &. begins to lead priscilla in a proper stroll. "did you know that i used to want to be a knight, like jaime? i used to watch him fight from the barrier. my septa would often have to come find me for lessons, but i would beg to stay." emeralds seek priscilla from a sideways glance.

wandering spirit, aiding others where possible. drawn to mothers scorned by the world, kindred spirits were they. a wolf and a lion, regal and divine. a pair scorned by men, in a world designed by them . . . [ we will flourish, we will conquer. ] . . . but cersei was a true master of the great game. a rightful queen, even if she were not born in the bloodline. adaptable as she was beautiful. standing by her side, on the tightrope of protection and destruction, able to discuss freely. without judgement from the other for her thoughts. as if she shared them, thoughts swirling within those green eyes of hers.

❛ an old fool and a foolish king, if i am to speak freely. ❜ no loyalty to any, a free spirit who lingered. even during the war, she took no side. aided the common folk and their injuries, whispering songs of old in their ears. but she knew to avoid angering nobles and royalty, lest she met their wrath. and the wrath of a lioness was one to be avoided . . . [ pity those who cross you and your pride. ] . . . crimson is her gown and her claws. index finger swirled the rim of her wine glass, eyes downcast to observe its contents. wine and gossip, this seemed to be their daily meeting. ❛ anyone can adapt to unfortunate situations yet you, your majesty, have excelled beyond that of others i have seen. ❜ a small pause, head nodding. ❛ what about being queen attracts you ? i can assume power certainly has its appeal. ❜

[monocaelia]

feat. roommate childe

note : this is just a tiny brainrot because i needed to get this out of my head or i would have exploded haha....

your roommate... was undeniably handsome.

you couldn't refute that even if it would have made his head bigger than it already is. your other friends had always gushed to you about how lucky you were to have such a pretty roommate, but you brushed their comments off. even if he was attractive, he wasn't your type.

messy orange hair that always fell in the right places despite how he slept, a single dimple in his cheek when he grins at his fullest, freckles that litter his skin as if he was kissed by the goddess of stars herself.

honestly, you wouldn't have batted an eye towards him, if it weren't for the fact that he has been invading your thoughts and driving you near insane because of it.

the first time you came to this conclusion was when you arrived home to the sight of your roommate in his boxers, your face nearly erupted from the heat that trickled from your chest to your face. the skin on his thigh, pale and milky, looked soft to the touch and you caught a glimpse of his stomach with the way he was laying down. his red hoodie had slipped up because of his position, giving you a hint of his skin, but you quickly averted your eyes when you realized you were ogling your poor roommate.

"ch-childe!" you stuttered out, flustered from seeing the sight in front of you. "what are you doing?!"

your roommate could only hum nonchalantly, continuing to mindlessly scroll through his phone as if he wasn't giving you a heart attack at that moment.

"is it a crime to relax in the comfort of my own home?" he replied, finally sparing a glance at you. however, your flustered appearance garnered his full attention.

deep blue focused on you, staring holes into your visage, but you couldn't muster the strength to look back at him. not with his messy hair and freckles that dust his cheeks like the stars in the endless night sky that you love so dearly.

before he could ask you what was wrong, you excused yourself into your room and twisted the lock in place in case he decided to heckle you some more.

from then on, you became hyperaware of how... attractive your roommate was and how often he came into close contact with you.

when you were cooking dinner the other night for the both of you, you didn't notice his figure leaning against the door frame as he watched you struggle to slice the vegetables needed for the curry you were making.

his chuckle made you jump, nearly dropping the knife in your hand in the process, but that moment was short lived when childe approached you and encased your hand in his own.

his hand was much larger than yours was, to your surprise, and they were calloused to the touch. despite the roughness of his skin over the top of your hand, you found yourself loving the touch and yearning for more.

his breath tickled the shell of you ear as he gave instructions on how to properly cut the vegetables, specifically the more difficult to cut ones, so that you wouldn't harm yourself. but you couldn't pay attention, not with his warm breath beside you, his warm hand encasing your own, and his scent enveloping you.

a waft of the ocean with subtle hints of citrus and laundry detergent.

or when you were catching lunch with him one day after classes and found yourself rambling on and on about a topic that suddenly came up and interested you.

you were mid sentence when your gaze shifted back to your dear roommate in front of you. the deep abyss that usually finds its home in childe's eyes were replaced with a much warmer shade of blue, the shade you would find inviting and calming when walking near the shore. his lips curve into a small smile as he rests his jaw on his hand, watching your every movement.

"why'd you stop?" he inquired when you trailed off, his soft lips moving with each syllable and you desperately craved for something you couldn't consume.

you couldn't take it anymore. the way he smiles at you as if you held the light that lit up his life, the way he calls out your name and brightens up the room with his toothy smile just because he caught a glimpse of you outside of your shared apartment.

every time. every single time he does something that garners your attention you have to deal with the consequences of your heart hammering against your chest and the heat that flows into every inch of your skin.

you couldn't deal with the reality of being in love with your roommate.

[miss-tc-nova]

Obsession - Vil Schoenheit x Reader

I’ve been dragging my feet a bit on this one, but I really do love the concept. It would just be so easy for him. Anyway, this has a mix of yandere I think and I guess what could be misconstrued as a backwards hanahaki kind of thing...It’ll make sense when you read it. 

Premise: Vil can take no for an answer, at least for now.

Words: 2,086

Trigger warning: blood, choking, pain, yandere, toxic relationship

Music Inspiration: Baby One More Time (Cover) by Annapatsu

~~~~~

              How I ended up in this situation, I will never understand.

              Feet beat against the stone floor as the world flies by. Lungs blaze with pain, panic overwhelming my thoughts. With each exhale, the agony spikes. The walls in my chest tighten, causing the squirming that instigates the stabbing. It’s a vicious cycle that cannibalizes itself, bringing tears to my eyes as heavy liquid bubbles in each breath.

              I have to find him. I need him.

              I can’t live without him.

~~~~~

              Sunlight seeps between the leaves, dappling my shade with warmth that makes it the perfect spot to catch up on homework. At the moment, I’m on my own, Ace and Duece doing club activities and Grim off wandering like a cat does. There are still students passing by, filling the air with white noise, but it’s the film research club not far from me that provide most of it.

              From where I sit, I have the perfect view of the scene which is quiet well done.

              But what else could be expected with Vil Schoenhiet in the director’s seat.

              As if he knew I was watching, the young celebrity glances over. When we make eye contact, he flashes me a dazzling smile. Nobody can deny that Vil is gorgeous, but many may not have seen his softer side. I’ve caught glimpses of it on a few occasions. I can barely begin to recount the number of times the Pomfiore housewarden has saved my hide. Between teaching me and Grim how to use magic and tutoring me through homework, I owe the young man quite a bit. He also has a tendency to fix up my uniform or appearance should something be out of place. I can’t say we’re best friends, but surely we’re comfortable enough to have a friendly conversation and joke around.

              I hear my name. My gaze starts at the thirteen centimeters heals before climbing to those amethyst eyes. I’d spaced out; rehearsal is over.

              “Oh, hey Vil.”

              He takes my outreached hand to help me up.

              “Enjoy the performance?” he asks.

              “Oh, yeah. I can’t say I paid attention to all of it, but what I saw was really good.” His smile flickers. “I can’t wait to see the whole thing when it’s done.”

              His voice remains even. “Well I hope I can put on a show that takes your breath away.”

              “You always do,” I say brightly.

              Vil’s mouth opens to say something, but he hesitates. I’ve never seen that before. He’s always so confident in his every move that I was sure he had the answer to everything. Whatever’s on his mind must be incredibly imposing for him to second guess himself.

              And if I can, I want to be of help. “What’s wrong?”

              What miniscule anxiety plaguing him vanishes with smile that off balances my heart. “Do you even know how beautiful you are?”

              That’s not what I expected. Fire surges into my ears. “Wh-What?!”

              His laugh feels like tendrils sneaking around my heart and yet it’s the most genuine I’ve ever seen on him. “Of course you don’t. Perhaps that’s what makes you refreshing. No, that’s not quite right.” Eyes drink in my visage with the hunger of a man starving. “Intoxicating—that’s a better term for you.”

              “Um…Thank you?” I murmur.

              My body freezes up when he reaches forward. A hand takes mine with pure reverence. Those coils snap tight in my chest as his lips ghost my fingers, lingering, before his gaze finds mine once again.

              This is a problem.

              “I would be honored to take you on a date.”

              Oh, this is a very big problem.

              Anxiety bubbles inside, wavering in my voice. “O-Oh uh…I’m sorry but I’m not interested in dating right now.”

              His face blanks as if I’d spoken gibberish. I can see the gears behind his eyes working, struggling to understand my decline. Granted, I can’t imagine Vil’s had many rejections in his life, let alone from someone he was interested in.

              “Is there someone else?” That voice holds even, but denial belies it.

              “N-No. I just—”

              He doesn’t accept that. “Is it something I said? Is it my work schedule? Surely it’s something I can work on.”

              “No. Vil.” I hold up my hands before he can fire off another question. “Look, seriously, it’s nothing against you. In fact, I’m beyond flattered you asked. But I’m not from this world and I’m still trying to adjust. Between bumbling my way through magic classes without magic, learning an entirely new history, floundering through various magical scandals, and reining in my new dormmate-slash-partner, I’m just not ready to be in a relationship right now. I’m sorry.”

              “Oh. I see.” And yet that desire never falters. “I…apologize for my behavior.”

              Frantic hands wave before me. I just want this to end and I’m sure he does too. “No, that’s okay. Like I said, I’m flattered. But I hope we can still be friends?”

              To anyone on the outside, Vil’s smile is perfect and not at all out of the ordinary. To me, it’s a red flag. “Of course. Please excuse me; I need to help the film club clean up.”

              So Vil leaves and the awful, awkward situation ends. Still, something in the back of my mind whispers warnings. I do my best to ignore them though. Surely this ordeal is done and dusted—an embarrassment we’d both prefer to let die. So that’s what I strive for. In our following interactions, I do my best to pretend nothing happened, though as a professional actor, Vil does better than I do. At least we seem to be on the same page. He even proves there are no hard feelings by treating me to lunch the next day with the best frozen yogurt I’ve ever had for dessert.

              A few days after, however, I begin to feel a little strange. There’s a feeling of squirming in my chest. Initially I brush it off as a lack of sleep or water or something, but when I start to struggle breathing, I consider that maybe I’m sick and take a long weekend from classes.

              It doesn’t get better. No, it gets much worse.

              Constricted lung capacity only continues to wither, as if something heavy is infesting my rib cage. I can’t even climb a single flight of stairs without winding myself. What aching I had initially chalked up to coughing now sears like being stabbed from the inside. When another fit ends with blood in the sink, I finally admit that I need to see the school nurse.

              Though it’s the weekend, there should still be staff at the infirmary. Just as I pull open the front door, however, I’m met with a visitor.

              “Vil?” I rasp with a ragged throat.

              Immediately his brows rise in pity. “Oh you poor thing. You look miserable.”

              I nod, preferring not to aggravate the pain.

              A hand attempts to coax me back inside. “Come. Let me take care of you.”

              Breaking free, I shake my head. “No, I don’t want you to catch it.”

              “Don’t worry about me. You should lie down and rest.” Again, Vil attempts to redirect me back into my dorm.

              “No. St—”

              The writhing in my chest instigates another bought of choking.

              “Are you okay? I can—”

              Holding my hand up, I fight against the spasm in my chest that pricks tears in my eyes.

              “I’m okay.” Purely, a lie. “I’m gonna go see the nurse, but you should go before you get sick too.”

              “Hold on. Just let me—"

              Another cough sneaks up on me. I do my best to back away from the young man, but his grip takes my jacket. Wracked with pain and suffocating, I’m unable to resist his pull. Then, without warning, Vil’s fingers snag my chin, forcing my face to his. Velvet-soft lips descend upon mine, hungry, greedy.

              Instinctively, my fists snag his jacket to shove him off, but I notice it. Whatever squirms in my chest settles and recedes. I can breathe clear again.

              The kiss breaks with a soft click, my breath quaking. Prying my eyes open, I’m met with the horrific, utter delight in Vil’s eyes.

              “I was beginning to think it wouldn’t work.”  

              The blood drains from my face, blurring my vision and tempering my hearing. I can’t bring my voice louder than a whisper. “What did you do?”

              He smiles as if he’s entirely innocent. “I simply added a little incentive to choose me when you’re ready to start dating.”

              Appalled barely begins to describe how I feel. “How could you? I thought you cared about me.”

              That gets a frighting rise out of him. “Don’t you see? I care so much I had to do this.” As Vil closes the gap, I back into the wall behind me. He truly believes every word he says. “No one will take care of you like I can. No one is better for you than I am.”

              “Y-You’re insane!” I slip around him, heading for the door. “I have to find a teacher or the headmage or—”

              The unbothered reply is unnerving. “And tell them what?”

              I freeze. I have a retort; it’s clear. I would tell everyone what Vil did. I don’t care if it would ruin his image or reputation or whatever. This is sheer delusion and it’s putting me in danger.

              But not a sound leaves my mouth.

              It wasn’t just one curse.

              His caress is so soft. “Don’t fret, my gem.” A tremor racks my spine as he pushes his fingers through my hair. “I just needed some peace of mind. I promise this pain will go away—”

              The smile that pulls at his lips is riddled with obsession.

              “—when you’re ready to return my love.”

~~~~~

              The doorknob rattles violently without budging. Fists pound against the door, fear beginning to consume me—I don’t even know if he’s inside. Filled with torment and terror, I fall to my knees. Thoughts begin to race with the possibility that this might be how I die.

              The click sounds of tainted mercy. Gentle fingers tilt my gaze. Lavender eyes glimmer with adoration. A smile of pure love graces his lips. Vil is absolutely elated.

              It makes my skin crawl.

              “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t come.” There’s nothing in his voice but tenderness. “It took you much longer to seek me out this time.” He’s not even upset; he knew this would be the outcome.

              Another bout of coughing stabs my lungs with thorns, the pain so agonizing that I nearly pass out. Into my hand sprays crimson, but among the blood, something flutters past my lips. Ivory petals are stained by ruby droplets: a symptom I haven’t come across before.

              Vil, however, sounds pleased. “Why am I not surprised that something so pure would come from you even as you hurt so. Though I must admit—” A decisive thumb smears blood along my lips. Desire spreads across his face. “—that color looks breathtaking on you.”

              A hand reaches out, clenching at his jacket. I can’t speak past the thorns, so I beg him wordlessly.

              “Of course. Let me take away the pain.” His lips draw closer, but I have no strength left to take them. “Let me indulge you.”

              His kiss tastes of the cruelest salvation. He speaks and acts as my savior, but only because I’m here for his transgression—his obsession. This is the “love” I’m trapped in.

              Piercing thorns recede, the vines crawling back down my throat to free up my airway. A gasping cough breaks the kiss, spilling more blood across the carpet. Though there’s relief, the weakness washes over me and I collapse.

              “Oh sweetheart. Look at you, exhausted after fighting for so long.”

              Everything in me wants to writhe beneath his touch, but I can’t even lift a finger. With ease, I’m lifted from the floor, carried deeper into the villain’s den.

              “Don’t you worry, my darling. Just rest.”

              This is my life now: to be at Vil’s mercy while suffering this parasitic foliage in my lungs. I can only guess at how long he’ll put up with my resistance before letting me succumb to my curse. Until then, I can only struggle on, resisting the pain until it becomes too much to bear.

              Because this curse will only end when I love him.

              But could I ever love him?

              “You’re in my care now.”

~~~~~

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist