#AND THE THING THAT PISSED ME OFF THE MIST

[mollyrolls]

i lied. it got way too woke for me i cant deal

my minecraft phase is approaching…. it’s the chill on the air… the feeling in my bones…

[hazellvsq]

poseidon was the god of horses and the sea. if percy could speak to horses, why couldn’t he levitate them through the air and launch them as though from a catapult?

zeus was lord of the sky and king of olympus. if jason could be praetor, why not elect himself president of the world - and have everyone accept it?

athena was the goddess of wisdom AND weaving. if annabeth could learn to weave intuitively, why not be able to telekinetically manipulate every piece of cloth around her - AND the things attached to the fabric?

[shotmrmiller]

Situationship into Relationship.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB! Reader

TW: disgustingly explicit, p in v, pregnancy talk. Strap in, its a doozy.

Since the first time Simon physically ruined you for other men forever, the both of you spent half of his leave in the bedroom, and the other being the best friends you were. Eventually, you noticed Simon practically moved in with you. Toothbrush next to yours in the bathroom, black balaclavas inside your knickers because Simon is a closet pervert, and thinking back on how he's treated you in the past before this situationship— unsurprising.

Then things went from situationship to a relationship. Simon, in a manner that's all him, didn't even ask. Simon and you had been resting on your couch, book in your lap and feet tucked under his thick thighs, when his cell started ringing. Simon picks up the television remote with one hand to pause the movie and answers his phone with the other.

"Soap."

You glance up from your book to look at him.

"No." a pause.

"No, I don't care that you flew out here to visit," followed by a suck of his teeth and then a deep resigned sigh.

"I'm with my girl. No, you cannot ask what her name is. Now piss off.", and as if nothing happened, Simon just unmutes the television and wraps your foot with his hand. With a secret bashful smile, you look back down at your book.

Now that leads you to now. Simon has to leave to a mission for a possibly yearlong mission— and you knew what you were signing yourself up for— doesn't mean it didn't hurt every time he left.

Raising to your toes you pull him to you in a hug. You feel his arms wrap around your waist tightly and he shoves his unmasked face into your neck.

"I'll miss you," you whisper with a sniffle. He kisses your neck in a comforting manner before he says,

"I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. You just make sure you're eating well."

He pulls away reluctantly and puts on his balaclava, then looks down at you. A mischievous glint in your eyes has him squinting his eyes at you.

"Maybe the next time, you can leave me with some company."

His eyebrows furrow as he says, "I didn't know you wanted a pet. I could look into—"

"A baby, Simon."

His blue eyes widen, and you can see the outline of his gaping mouth behind his mask. Giggling, you step forward, pressing your side to his and putting your hand on his chest as you— almost painfully— tilt your head up to look at him . He shakes from his stupor and makes eye contact, tossing an arm around you.

"Simon. Did you hear about the accident back at base?"

"No. What happened?"

"If you want the answer, come back home to me."

Nodding he says, "My heart will hold you when my arms cannot."

Your lip trembles in a pout and your eyes mist. Slapping his chest, you say in a shaky tone, "You bastard," and in a much smaller, vulnerable voice, "I love you too."

Simon nods before pressing a kiss to your hairline. He then turns, grabs his bags and leaves.

---

It's been 8 months since Simon left.

8 long months since you hugged him last. You got scarce calls from him, letting you know he was alright before having to cut it short, and for that you were grateful. But you still missed him. Hopefully today you'd get another call from him, you thought as you went to bed.

As you're burrowing in the comforter, you hear the door unlock. Ripping yourself from the bed, you scramble to the living room.

With a breathy tone, you say his name.

Si is back home. Your Simon's back.

He locks the door, drops his bags, and opens his arms wide. Your reaction is immediate and visceral. Launching yourself into his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck— ripping his mask off, putting both hands on his cheeks and smothering him in kisses.

"If this is the welcome I get for being away for so long, maybe I should do it more often," he jokes.

"Don't you fucking dare. I was miserable without you."

Holding you up with his arms, he pulls his face away from you and asks, "Well? What accident happened at base?"

"Oh. A Humvee ran over a box of popcorn and killed 2 kernels."

He huffs from his nose.

"Good one, love."

Simon finally takes notice of what you're wearing — one of his black shirts and pink knickers underneath.

"I haven't forgotten about your little comment you blindsided me with. You want me to make you a mum? Beg me for it, pretty."

"Oh please, Si. We'd make such pretty little tots. It'd be half of me and half of you— I'd always have a part of you with me, even if you were across the world. I'm also ovulating this week and I'm," you dig your fingernails into his traps, "so irrationally aroused it's not even—"

He cuts you off with his mouth as he kicks off his boots, leaving them scattered by the front door and he's jogging to the bedroom. Throwing you on the bed, he grabs your hips, fingers curling into the waistband of your knickers, and pulls you to the edge of the bed— haphazardly pulling them off and tossing them over his shoulder as he kneels.

Your pussy is already slippery from arousal and the extra hormones in your body, and your face flushes. How embarrassing. Simon notices your expression because he says, "What a pretty little quim my girl's got. All this for me?" he leans in and inhales deeply, "You smell so sweet, love. I have to get a taste."

His long tongue immediately starts drawing languid small circles on your clit, and you're letting your head hang back with a moan before he stops and slaps your thighs with both hands— causing you to raise your head and look.

"You keep those eyes on me and watch what I'm doing to you, pretty."

With a fierce blush, you acquiesce, and he goes back in— eating pussy like it's his job— and you're approaching the end of the cliff at an alarming rate. He squeezes his fingers into the meat, forcing you to keep eye contact— your eyes staring into steel blue as his tongue flicks your swollen clit repeatedly before he lowers, stiffening his tongue and sticking it into your hole— and rubs his nose over your nub. Your thighs start to shake, digging the heels of your feet into his shoulders—and the intensity of his gaze holding your own sends you over the edge.

Toes curling and your feet hooking across the back of his head to pull his face further into your pulsating pussy to ride out your nerve-scraping orgasm. Getting down from your high, limbs loose and like molasses, you rub the only two brain cells you've got at this moment and wonder if you drowned him.

You glance down between your legs and Simon is there with an irritatingly smug grin as his nose shines with your come and drips from his chin.

"Be good for me now, pet. I ain't fuckin' you until you give me one more."

Before you even get to protest, he pacifies you with a, "I know you're painfully sensitive. I promise I'll be gentle."

And he does. He spits on your pussy, and you whimper at the contact before he oh-so softly starts tapping your clit directly with the bottom part of the tip of his tongue in a sharp, but feather-light, staccato rhythm while using the pad of his thumb to rub small delicate circles where your lips split open and you're coming in seconds.

You're drained. Empty of all thought and energy, your vision is hazy when you feel Simon take your foot that was pressing into his shoulder by the ankle and puts it into his mouth — tongue swirling around your toes— and lets out a filthy moan. The sensation of his tongue in between them sends a shiver from the bottom of your spine up to your scalp, body hair standing on end.

Dropping your foot, he gets up with a grunt, yanks off his shirt and undoes his trousers to free himself.

"How do you want me?"

He chuckles darkly and says, "Don't worry your pretty little head, pet. I'll take care of everything— you just lie there and let me take what's mine."

Maneuvering you on your back in the middle of the bed, he brings your legs together before shifting them to your right side, his left, knees bent at a 90° angle—and your upper body is still facing him—when he pushes your legs with one massive hand into the mattress and uses the other to hold himself up, palm digging into the bed by your head.

Simon pushes in, long hefty cock stretching you open in one solid stroke. There's a sting as he forces you open on him, and he's bottoming out with an obscene squelch bit but it's these first few minutes that are you love the most. The first firm strokes that feel so intense, you're pushed to your limits. The lack of time to adjust to him lights your nerve endings on fire, you love it.

In this position, he covers your body completely, like a shield. He's all you see. All you need to see.

Every time his balls are pressed up against your pussy, you feel a burn, deep inside as the tip of his cock presses firmly against your cervix and it forces a groan out of you with every thrust.

Now he's grabbing your arm—hand engulfing your elbow—as he lies down on his back, pulling you to straddle him. He takes his cock in his hand so you can lower yourself on it and you wince at how sensitive you feel, and his tip is barely in.

Simon takes notice, of course, he's always attentive to you and your needs— and he coos at you.

"Deep breath, sweetheart. You're doing perfect," he grunts as half of him disappears into you, " The only one that can take all of me so well." And like a stone dropping into a pond, surface tension giving into the weight, you drop and take the rest of him in your body.

It's too much, you think, but can't help and grind down on him. The pinch in your lower belly is too much but you twist that pain into pleasure— otherwise, Simon will notice and stop. You really don't want him to stop.

Peering up at you through his lashes, Simon takes pleasure in your expression. Lightly tapping your cheek with the pads of his fingers strong enough to jolt your head to the side a bit, but never to hurt you, and says, "Look at that cock-drunk look on your face. Fuckin' hell, I could stare at you all day."

Simon is so large, your knees barely skim the comforter— can't even bounce on his cock properly— that he just takes over. He tells you to flatten your feet on the bed, like you're sitting on your haunches and puts a palm on your chest to lean you back at an intense angle— pulling a loud mewl from your throat.

He raises his legs, knees bending and planting his own feet flat on the bed and shoves his forearms underneath your thighs to grip your ass and lifts you as if you weighed nothing. He lifts you, at the same time lowering his hips to bed, to leave just the tip at your entrance before he yanks you down— his own hips slamming straight up to meet you halfway to fuck you.

He's feeling you squeeze his cock in a tight vice, your moans getting high and whiny— all of your tell tales signs that you're close.

"This," he says with a particularly hard thrust, "is my favorite part." and focuses on making you come on his cock. The sheer strength behind his thrusts sends you careening straight into a blinding orgasm.

You're keening so loud you know the neighbors are going to put in a noise complaint, but you couldn't care less. You've probably had one of the most intense orgasms in a long time, and Simon just fucked you through it without a single stutter in his pace— the only sign you see that he was straining was the sweat dripping down his temple towards his jaw and the rapid intake of breaths coming out of his mouth.

He looks down at where you two are connected and you leaked cream on his happy trail, making it stick together, and he groans at the sight.

Now that you'd come, it was his turn to get his pleasure. And he was gonna take it. He's tossing you up and down like his own personal pocket pussy, and you swear you can feel him trying to open the plug of your womb with the flared head of his cock. His grunts are deep and get louder the closer he gets. It takes him 8 more brutal strokes and he's choking out, "Fuck, I'm gonna come. Fuck, fuck, fuck," and he bites his bottom lip and lets out a whimpered, pathetic wail— something you've never heard before—as he stiffens and grinds into you. You think you can feel his coming moving from the base of his length to the tip where it spurts into you in such a large quantity, it's spilling from in you and dripping down onto him.

Your hands are on his chest, putting all of your weight onto them, as your legs lower back down. Simon, underneath you, removes his arms from under you and straightens them out to where your legs are— grabbing onto your calves.

As he comes down from his high, his gaze clears and intensifies on yours— causing you to blush under the scrutiny of it— and with emphasis says, "I love you. Marry me."

You give a deep sigh. You should've known Simon would be as unorthodox as possible. It's almost like he only lets intrusive thoughts out when around you. Giving your walls a clench, making him hiss, you tell him, "Fine. But you're going to the Mexican restaurant down the street. I've worked up an appetite and they don't do delivery."

Chuckling quietly, he slaps both of your thighs saying, "A'right, love. Let me get dressed."

He gets changed at an alarming pace before leaving. You lie back on the bed, head on the pillow, and close your eyes for a minute before the door opens again. Simon comes back in and heads straight for the bathroom in long strides. After a second, he turns to head back out and you catch a glimpse of something— another obnoxious scrunchy, this time in a lime green, on his wrist. Again. You don't even wear those anymore because you cut your hair off into an asymmetrical pixie. Snorting, you figure that's as close to a wedding band that he's ever gonna wear.

A/N: ill be in the VIP section in hell, popping bottles.

@thychuvaluswife @corvusmorte

[ilovebuckers5]

༺ ♱ I've Missed You ♱ ༻

pairing - paige x fem!reader

word count - 1.9k

themes :

-filth

-angst

-18+

warnings :

-smut

-cussing

a/n - i feel like i haven't written p smut in a little....

you and paige had been on and off for months. breaking up one day and getting back together a week later. it was toxic, obviously, but you both loved the thrill.

you also loved the sex that you'd have if you even dared to step near anyone else while you guys were "broken up".

the door slammed behind me and Paige. I was already drunk enough to the point where my eyes were water and I couldn't really feel my feet. the last thing I needed was my "ex" screaming at me. I held my breath when I got into my room. I knew that the door would swing open any second now. and there it was.

paige stormed up to me, her hair bouncing off of her shoulders. she was still a little tipsy. I could see it in her eyes.

"so what was that huh?"

she didn't yell but she didn't just talk either. heavy breaths left both of our mouths. the air was thick and infested with the smell of alcohol and old body mist that was slowly fading away.

"fucking answer me. why was that girl all up on you? and why did you stop her?"

i ignored Paige's questions multiple times until she was fed up. I felt her hand hold onto my wrist and I let her lead me to the bathroom. all I could do was groan with annoyance as Paige slid the two of us into the bathroom.

she locked the bathroom door behind us and didn't hesitate to press my body against the door. i knew what was about to happen. paige's hands roamed around my hips and ass while she let her lips hover over my own. i could tell that she was trying to tease me just to piss me off but i wasn't letting her get her way this time. so i stayed still while she became more and more frustrated

"fuck." she breathed out before pressing her lips against mine roughly. i barely got to kiss back before she was shoving her tongue down my throat. our saliva slowly melted together and she let a string of spit fall down my chest while she moved her lips around my chest. she quickly took one of my nipples into her mouth, rolling it around with the tip of her tongue sending a couple whines out of my mouth.

i finally caved and held onto her back while she worked her way down my stomach and to my soaking wet core. she let her fingers dance around the miniskirt that just barely covered my ass before tugging it down my legs. before she did anything else, she lifted herself back up to my ear to whisper "so wet for me just after arguing? y'little slut." her finger ran across my clothed pussy sending waves of pleasure through my body.

"mmm. paige please." i pleaded into paige's ear the moment she took her hand away from my pussy. without saying a word, paige held onto my waist while lowering herself back to where she was. she took her time removing my panties and now her teasing was working. the second my panties were lower than my thighs, i rushed to kick them off. finally, paige dug her tongue through my folds hitting all the right places while gathering all my slick onto her tongue. longer strings of curse words left my mouth the deeper paige went. and just like that i was already close to cumming right on her tongue.

"f-fuck right there. don't stop paige!" i whined out as paige began to flatten her touch against my puffy clit. but then she stopped, ripping her mouth away from my cunt. i couldn't help but hold onto her shoulders, almost like i was trying to hold her back where she was.

"what the fuck paige!?" paige stood up and moved my body away from the bathroom dort before walking out and sitting herself on the bed. my neck snapped around while i followed her out of the bathroom.

"c'mere." she said tapping the bedding next to her. i crawled to her side and waited there while she stared at me with amusement in her eyes. after a while of silence and staring i decided that it was enough. i wrapped my hands around the sides of paige's hips and straddled her lap. my lips trailed across her face, placing kisses on every inch of her ivory skin. i practically had tears in my eyes at the loss of her tongue but tried to ignore it and continue looking into paige's eyes.

"you upset, baby?" she cooed while dragging her thumb across my jawline. "obvious isn't it." i replied.

she then slowly lifted up her tank top just enough to reveal her toned abs. just the sight of her bare stomach caused me to groan. i wanted to ride her abs right then and there but i knew she wouldn't give in that easily. but i still started grinding against her skin. the feeling of my clit dragging across each defined ab created a knot in my stomach. i quickly sped up my pace, now almost bouncing back and forth on her abs. i felt paige's large and cold hands grip onto my ass, slowing me down which only upset me even more.

"n-no." i whined.

"what? tell me what's the rush."

"you didn't let me cum"

"and you flirted with someone else"

"we aren't even together paige"

"well we are now"

her hands had a death grip on my skin, nails two layers deep leaving marks. she continued to guide me at a fast enough pace to have me cumming all over her stomach without seconds. "thats it princess. cum all over me." my words began to get caught in my throat as i rode out my orgasm. the only thing i could let out was loud whines and the occasional 'please.' my eyes were screwed shut, no matter how badly i wanted to see that smug smile on paige's face. she got even more cocky than usual when she made me finish with just her touch. it pissed me off a lot of the time.

i was about to continue riding her abs as much as I possible could but of course Paige couldn't hold the same position for a singular minute. I whined with annoyance as Paige stood up, tossing me to the side. she walked out of the room without saying anything and when she came back she had a 7 inch strap, harnessed to her waist. my breath hitched once I saw the size of her plastic dick but knew just how rough she could get if her buttons were pressed. I was still sitting on the backboard of the bed when paige took my hand into her grasp, leading me to the floor. "on your knees." she growled. so I settled my face closer to her harness, rough carpet felt scratchy and painful against my knees. before I could take a deep breath and prepare for her, Paige slid the purple strap along my tongue and down my throat, not hesitating to go as deep as possible. she started off slow but began to fuck my mouth at an ungodly speed. the tip hit my uvula multiple times, causing me to gag against the silicone in my mouth. but Paige didn't stop until there were hot tears rolling down my cheeks.

she slowly removed the strap from my mouth before taking a handful of my hair in between her fingers and spinning me around so that my face was facing my full body mirror. without even getting a chance to catch my breath, Paige slipped the length of her strap in my cunt, sending a guttural moan out of my lips followed by a string of course words. in the back of my mind I knew that I would get punished for shutting my eyes so tight but a wave of embarrassment washed over me watching my own naked body bent over, moving back and forth with every thrust of Paige's. once the blonde noticed that my eyes were closed, she placed a firm slap on my ass, stopping her thrusts abruptly.

"open your goddamn eyes princess." her grip on my waist tightened, making me wince a little. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was Paige's red hot face smirking towards me in the mirror. "good girl."

she began sliding her strap in and out of my pussy with ease and at a steady pace. she began to speed up her own hips just at the sound of my whines.

"fuck paigey d-don't stop." she took her hand that wasn't holding onto my waist and quickly it moved to my bare tit, massaging it while speeding up her thrusts even faster. "fuck fuck fuck I'm so close p." Paige began to fuck me through my second orgasm, all the juices that left my already soaking wet pussy slid down my thighs and down my calves. "that's it baby..." she whispered under her breath in contrast to the pornographic words and whines that left my mouth. she lifted the upper half of my body up closer to her face and whispered "wanna give me one more pretty girl?" and I couldn't say no. "mhm. whatever y'want."

paige held my back against her chest while she shoved her 'dick' in me at a slower speed. she began placing kisses all over my shoulders and neck without stopping her thrusts into me. just the noise her strap made against my pussy sent me over the edge for a third time. "shit right there!" I waited out as Paige's tip hit all the right places at once, causing me to gush all over my own legs and her strap. the second she removed her strap, it was her tongue.

she pushed my body onto the bed and used both of her hands to lift my legs over her shoulders. her tongue flicked at my already abused clit. she used the very tip of her tongue to lick all of the left over arousal that was spilling onto her strap or my legs. "mm fuck, taste so good for me." the vibrations of her voice almost sent me to heaven. now she was finally slurping and digging through my folds with her tongue, slowly sliding it further inside. "holy fuck! please don't stop Paige." my hands were now tangled in her hair which I could barely grab due to how tight my thighs were wrapped around Paige's head and ears. she continued to gather all of my liquids, moving her tongue faster than ever and not missing a single drip of me that spilled into her tongue which was shaped into a cup just to make sure she was able to get everything in her mouth. my legs began to shake as I reached my fourth orgasm. my legs fell like jello onto Paige's shoulders while my head was thrown back against the pillow.

before Paige to swallow all of me, she pressed her tongue against mine, giving me a taste of myself while kissing me sloppily. my legs were wrapped around her hips while her face hovered over my face. "so fucking pretty." she said, moving a strand of my hair behind my ear. I had words that needed to come out but I was too fucked out. Paige could clearly tell.

"say it. I know you want to." she said sternly.

"I've missed you-" I began to speak

"yeah you did" Paige snapped back before pressing out lips together again.

[f1amour]

✧˚ · . 𝐒𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 27 lewis is 39), italics are flashbacks, angst. no happy ending

authors note: not spell checked sorryyy. based off this request. heavily inspired by the song so long, london. hope you all enjoy this fic and cry as much as i did writing it <3

─────────────────────────

So (So) long (Long), London (London)

So (So) long (Long), London (London)

So (So) long (Long), London (London)

“Flight 444 from London to Mexico City will begin boarding in ten minutes please have your passports and tickets ready.”

Even a number reminded you of him. It was good you’ll be leaving this place that reminded you so much of him. You didn’t want to leave but you had to.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t come to me and talk about it. You said you’d retire with Mercedes then we would start a family. Now I’m finding out through social media that you signed with Ferrari for 2025?” You call after Lewis who had walked into the house with you standing in the living room with a pissed off look on your face.

“I don’t understand why I need to discuss that with you. It’s my career not yours, you don’t have one.” He says and immediately regrets it.

“Because I gave it up for you! To be the happy and proud girlfriend who went to every race and stays behind the cameras. The one you go home with. The one who supports you through every thing. Who celebrates your big wins and the smallest ones. I’m not taking this disrespect from you, Lewis.”

I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift

Pulled him in tighter each time he was driftin' away

My spine split from carrying us up the hill

Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill

I stopped tryna make him laugh, stopped tryna drill the safe

Lewis had convinced you to give him a year with Ferrari and after you two would get engaged and have your family like you both always wanted.

He still had the 2024 season with Mercedes and was going to make the most of it. You stopped going to every single race deciding to stay home and figure out what you’d be doing with your career. You had met lewis when you were 22 and he was 33. The age difference didn’t bother you but you never thought it would actually get in the way.

It was the opposite as most age gaps are discussed the older one wants a family by now and the younger one still wants to make a life for themselves before having a family.

You were ready for the next step you wanted to marry Lewis after five years together but he was still focused on his career and trying for his 8th championship title.

“I’m gonna be late. I’ve got a meeting with the team and I don’t know how long we will be.” You read the text message from Lewis and sigh deciding to get out of your dress and into some comfortable clothes.

Your usual date nights you had at least one time a week had dissipated to almost none at all. Even when it would be long distance you’d have face time dates with Lewis but recently it’s just been distant with rarely any calls or texts.

You weren’t sure if you could keep going on like this.

Thinkin', "How much sad did you think I had. Did you think I had in me?"

Oh, the tragedy

So long, London

You'll find someone

Ticket purchased for Heathrow airport to Mexico City April 18th, 2024. One way.

You had decided it was now or never to leave the relationship. You loved Lewis but feeling like a second choice was no longer the healthy thing in your life. You’ve felt so unloved for awhile now that it was messing with your mental health.

London was your home for so long. He was your home for so long. But it was time to say goodbye.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out

I founded the club she's heard great things about

I left all I knew, you left me at the house by the Heath

I stoppеd CPR, after all, it's no use

The spirit was gonе, we would never come to

And I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

“I’m a bit confused…why am I dropping you off at the airport? I don’t have to leave until a few more days.” Lewis says pulling into the private parking lot.

You get out of the car and grab your suitcases out of the trunk with his help, “I’m done, Lewis. I’m done waiting for you. I’m done being the second choice.”

“No, no, no. You cant do this, y/n!” He shakes his head while you let one of the airline workers grab your suitcases.

“I can do this actually. Just like you can decide our future for the both of us I can break up with you. I’m 27 years old, Lewis. I want to marry you. I want to have your children. I want to support you at every race while being the supportive wife. I’m so in love with you that I would give up everything including my career to make you happy.” You look at him, sadness in your eyes.

It was a realization you both were finally coming to terms with…it wasn’t a healthy relationship anymore. To give someone hopes of a family and marriage one day that may never happens wasn’t right. And to give up your career for him didn’t settle right with him either.

It was the end now.

“I’m so sorry, my love.” He whispers wiping your tears away but they just keep on flowing.

“I’m sorry too. For believing you everytime. I gave up most of my 20’s for you. I gave up the time where I should be enjoying my life and figuring out what I want to do with my career. But I blame myself too because I was so in love that I would look past all our flaws.”

For so long, London

Stitches undone

Two graves, one gun

I'll find someone

“We’ve done so much good for each other. The last few months haven’t been the best but you gave me some amazing years filled with love. I won’t ever forget that.” You tell Lewis kissing his cheek.

His eyes know welled up with tears, “I love you. I know I didn’t show it enough lately but I love you. I always will.”

It was sad to think of but Lewis was your first love.

But you would be his last.

And you say I abandoned the ship

But I was going down with it

My white-knuckle dying grip

Holding tight to your quiet resentment

And my friends said it isn't right to be scared

Every day of a love affair

Every breath feels like rarest air

When you're not sure if he wants to be there

THREE MONTHS LATER.

“Eight times we’ve said it before, here’s a ninth for you. Lewis Hamilton wins the British Grand Prix!” The crew you were with cheer watching the race while you sit there with little to no emotion in your eyes. It was nothing out of the ordinary for them seeing as you told them you didn’t know much about the sport and had no interest in it (all lies).

They had known you for three months now and for that time they have seen you only smile for guests who were on board and when they weren’t you didn’t show much emotion.

They loved your personality when you would show it at times so they assumed it was just some personal problems at home that had you so sad sometimes.

He had finally won after two years of no wins and he had done it in his home. A home that was once yours.

You wanted to cry and shout for him but you felt nothing, your soul had been so empty since leaving him. You hated him for it.

So how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

How much tragedy?

Just how low did you

Think I'd go 'fore I'd self-implode?

'Fore I'd have to go be free?

“So we’ve got some guests coming on board later on today they’ll be here for three days. The primary is very well known I am told to not disclose his name until they are here so please as always treat our guests as usual and minding for autographs.” Your captain tells everyone and they all nod in agreement but then start conversing with each other about who it could be.

You were just ready to get back to work and not hear about Lewis’s win for the 100th time today.

It was time to welcome the guests on board and while the crew waits as they walk on board you can’t help but feel some nerves which you never get while on the job.

And as they all come in you realize why you were feeling that way as Lewis now stands right in front of you followed by a group of people (half of them models) which you’d never met before.

You give your fakest smile to them all shaking their hands until it comes to Lewis, your hand only lingers on his for a quick second before you pull away.

One of the models clings on him while you show them around the yacht.

Was it so easy for him to move on? Did he ever really love you?

You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waitin' for the proof

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days

And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell 'cause I loved this place for

It had been a day with Lewis and his friend on board and you’ve successfully been able to avoid being in a room alone with him. He was shocked how much you’d change in just a short amount of time.

Your eyes no longer holding any emotion in them. Your smile now only held up when attending to guests. You were a completely new person. He wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.

You’d been setting up the dinner table when you freeze smelling the familiar cologne you’d gotten so used to for five years.

“How did you find me?” You turn to Lewis, him knowing exactly what you meant by the question. He had all the money in the world and chose to travel to Mexico to enjoy his break? His own yacht sitting in Monaco but he chose to go on a different one?

“I…I hired someone to find you. I needed to see how you were doing and you weren’t answering my messages, y/n. What happened? You changed.”

“I changed? Fucking hell I mean what do you think? The person I thought I would marry and grow old with refused to show me any commitment. He failed to love me the last few months we were together. I gave up a career I loved for him and now I’m here attending to other people and their needs…it’s like I never got out of our relationship the way I care for others but myself.” You chuckle, your eyes no longer filled with tears as they usually would have by now.

You felt nothing but at the same time felt everything looking at him.

So (So) long (Long), London (London)

Had (Had) a (A) good (Good) run (Run)

A moment (Moment) of warm sun (Sun)

But I'm (I'm) not (Not) the (The) one (One)

So (So) long (Long), London (London)

Stitches (Stitches) undone (Undone)

Two (Two) graves (Graves) one gun (Gun)

You'll (You'll) find (Find) someone

“I’m not gonna tell you this again but please let me go. I need you to let me go because if I stare at you any longer I will go back. I’ll be yours again. But I’m already lost enough within myself, Lewis. I’ll be okay one day it’s going to take time but I’m grieving. I’m grieving us. Our dreams. You. I’m learning how to live again and it’s not easy but I’ll be okay. But you need to let me go. Please just do that for me?” You beg him. You’d be on your knees begging just so this pain in your heart would finally leave. You loved him so much it hurt but the stars weren’t aligned for both of you.

“Maybe in another life we could have made it?” Lewis says, his hand on your cheek.

You lean into his touch knowing it would be the last time you’d feel him close, “In another life.” You whisper quietly where he barely heard it.

Why not in this life?

[starlightguh]

Intertwined

Word Count: 4,655

Summary: Somehow Sylus and you have a strange bond from his Evol. Neither of you know the meaning of this or what exactly it is. After searching for some answers and ending up empty, you end up giving in to a strong temptation in the form of the tall and cocky Onychinus leader.

Tags: Smut, enemies to lovers, divergent from canon lore since we don’t have his backstory yet

AN: This is an 18+ fic, so MDNI! This is a multi chapter story that you can also read on my Ao3, I will try and post updates both on here and there, so please enjoy!

Being trapped in the Onychinus headquarters felt like a nightmare. It had only been a couple of weeks but I had been desperately missing familiar faces, sights, and sounds.

Since being trapped and forced to stay with Sylus as he tries to resonate with me, I’ve felt just like another bird trapped in his extravagantly large cage.

Recently, our Evols bounded us together in a way I never thought possible. When the red mist handcuffs appeared around both me and Sylus’ wrists the confusion and panic had settled deep in my bones and still hadn't gone away.

He even recommended cutting my hand off as a solution. Of course, he wasn’t serious, but the situation at hand caused him to briefly panic.

But no matter how dire the situation, that man gets on my nerves unlike anything else.

I currently lay in the large plush bed of my current living quarters in Sylus’s mansion of nightmares. The dark red silk sheets felt so smooth and luxurious against my skin, but my eyes were just focused on my hand. Nothing was there, but I stared at it as if to summon the answers to this mysterious situation into my palm.

Feeling a mix of frustration and boredom, I decide to go poke around Sylus’s lair and see if I can dig up any books or something that could lead me down a research path as to what’s happened between us.

Since the incident a few days ago, nothing has really changed, other than more heavy creases between Sylus’s brows. As of late he’s been more blasé about it and that’s just another thing about him on my long list of ‘things Sylus does to piss me off.’

I shiver as I step out of my room into the empty and echo-y dark hallway. Being barefoot and in a thin white nightgown, I was left vulnerable should a certain crime syndicate leader decide I was useless. But somewhere deep in my body I knew I was safe within this crow-obsessed man’s lair.

I wandered, a bit aimlessly, around to see if I could find the proper library. Truth be told, the only places I had explored were the kitchen, the armory, Sylus’ room, and the long hallway near my room. I had a vague idea of where Kieran and Luke’s room was, since they would sometimes tease me about visiting them for a ‘bedtime story,’ but I never had an interest to give in to their silly demands.

It felt like I was constantly poking my head in and out of rooms, most of them looked very untouched. For someone with a big mansion he surely never used it. Most occasions Sylus was out on ‘business ventures’ and on the other occasions he would be in his room, the dining area, the terrace, gym, and once and a while asleep in the lounge area’s couch. But beyond that he never seemed to use the space in his extravagant home. And he hasn’t yet dared come near the quarters I was currently living in. At least I have some privacy there.

It was strange. I felt captive, yet very free at the same time. He never restricts where I can go and explore my curiosity, in fact, he encourages me to snoop. How annoying, I sigh to myself.

As I reach a wing of the manner I’ve never been into before, I open a set of double doors to a very spacious and well stocked library. I smile to myself pleased with my venture as I flick on a light and scrunch my face as I take in all the dust and cobwebs littering the various large black shelves that wrap around the whole room.

There must’ve been thousands of books covering the shelves of the walls, the only other furniture to grace the room was a large black leather upholstered chaise lounge, and a small side table with a simple gold lamp. I hummed as I approached the first wall of books nearest to me.

My eyes start scanning the shelves for anything useful. I grab a couple of books that look like they have research and information on Evol and sit down in the lounge chair to start my research.

As my eyes scan texts for what only feels like a few minutes, a deep and sultry voice reaches my ears.

“Are you trying to have a competition to see who can stay up the longest? Are you sure you could compete with me?”

My head pokes up to see Sylus leaning in the entryway to the library. His long legs were dressed in black silky lounge pants and his chest was hardly covered in his matching silk robe. His pale white skin was tantalizing as the warm light from the library illuminated his fair features.

His red eyes looked at me with mirth in them, while his face was painted in an amused grin as he stared at my lounging form.

“I was just feeling a bit restless is all…” I rolled my eyes at his haughty demeanor.

He walks over to me in smooth strides and looks down at the reading material. Or he’s trying to stare down my nightgown, who knows with this man.

“Anything good? I’m afraid you’ll find my collection lacks the whimsical fairy tales I’m sure you enjoy…But I might have one or two children’s books you could find amusing,” he teases.

My face doesn’t move at his attempts to provoke me, I don’t have the energy to entertain his taunts. “I’m trying to see if I can find any information about this unique connection we have…So far nothing’s come up.”

He frowns a bit at this, his expression is hard to read. I can’t tell if he knows any more or less about this situation than I do. He did seem just as surprised and upset as I did when this occurred.

“I don’t know if there’s anything quite like us…As I said before, you and I are more alike than you know,” his silver hair shakes as he moves his head in a dismissive manner.

“But I’m nothing like you! You’re crazy! You live up in this empty castle where you sit around and plot the demise of people! Innocent or bad you selfishly propel yourself to the top of everything, and for what? A home you barely enjoy? An empty life full of nothing but death and destruction? Tell me Sylus, how are you and I alike?”

I slam my book shut and stand up. I don’t meet his insane height, so I glare upwards. My patience has run thin and I’m tired of being kept on a string with him. If he knows something I don’t, why doesn't he do something to cast me aside? Certainly the aether core can’t mean that much to him if he hasn’t cut it out of my chest yet.

He lets out a deep and guttural growl as he uses his Evol to wrap around my body and lift me up higher in the air.

“Sweetie, it’s almost embarrassing to see yourself in this much denial. Honestly kitten, you cannot be this naive… You're just painting me out to be the boogeyman because you’re little head can’t understand what’s really happening.” he tilts his head with a frown and continues, “You think you’re so self righteous with your little hunter title, but are you also not causing death and destruction for those around you on your little missions? That you’re also coming home to an empty bed?”

He then forces a smirk on his face as he finally spits out, “Or am I wrong to assume that? You certainly have enough men around you to keep your bed warm kitten.”

I try and lash out against his Evol and let out nothing but frustrated yells and grunts. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Put me down!”

He brings me down, but he uses his Evol to pull me closer to his face, we’re pretty much nose to nose as his red eyes look at my face with disappointment.

“Who is it…Is it that little space hunter who should be dead by now? Is it that ridiculous artist? Don’t tell me,” he pauses and puts his large hand on my face to cup my cheek, “You’re sleeping with your own doctor?” He lets out a deep chuckle at the thought and there’s something behind his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine.

I grit my teeth and reply, “And why should you give a shit about something like that?”

His hand slides down and grips a bit at my throat. Not hard enough to hurt me, but definitely enough to make my eyes go wide with shock. “Because once I find a high value prize, I don’t like to share.”

He swiftly takes his hand off my throat and puts me down, he goes to strut out of the library. I presume he’s storming off to go to his room to pout, but something in me stops him.

“None of them…” I call out and pause a moment before continuing, “I guess you’re not wrong in that element…We both have our empty castles to defend.”

He stops in his tracks, he glances to the side back at me, “I hope you keep it that way kitten, for their sakes.”

Without another word he stalks off like a gloomy shadow. What the fuck is his deal? Is all I can think to myself as I rub my neck.

After that sudden outburst between us I go back to my quarters with a headache. I lay in the lavish bed once again and my mind begins to wander. I do hope the others he mentioned aren’t worried for me…

Rafayel was the last person I talked to before entering the N109 zone. I hope he isn’t trying to do any more shady stuff at the nest. As for Xavier, he’s probably too busy running away from the bounty he has. And Zayne….I feel a bit of pang in my chest as I can clearly picture his worried hazel eyes. I silently hope he’s too busy with his research in Snowcrest to even think about my whereabouts.

But how dare Sylus insinuate I’d have late night proclivities with any of them. Besides Zayne, I hardly knew Rafayel or Xavier, and with all my curiosity of the information grandma left me, I have no time to think about being intimate with someone.

After a few minutes of dancing around the idea of intimacy with any of those prospective suitors, my thoughts seem to betray me as they recall the dance I shared with Sylus…Or the instance of laying on top of his nearly naked body searching for that crow broach….The way he felt hard beneath me-

I shake my head and slap my cheeks, nonono go away horny thoughts… I sigh to myself. Maybe I just need to get laid… It’s been what feels like eons since I’d been intimate with another person and with all this stress, frustration, and seductiveness of Sylus running around, I felt no better than a horny teenage boy.

Sleep was avoiding me and no matter how hard I tried to think of literally anything else, Sylus’ half naked body kept popping up in my head.

I’m getting a drink, I can’t handle this

With another frustrated groan I get up from the bed to leave this room and stalk my way to the dining area that has a gold metallic wine rack in the corner. I decided to just grab the bottle for myself. As I twisted it open and drank straight from the source I couldn’t help but growl with frustration as the bitter dark red liquid went straight down my throat.

After the warmth of the alcohol hits my stomach, I turn around to go and stomp back to my room when my face smacks into a soft and plump set of pectorals.

Great, just fucking perfect, I think to myself as he chuckles and placed his hand on my lower back.

“Sweetie,” I shiver as his deep velvet voice coos to me, “I’m sorry about our little spat earlier,” he forces my face away from his chest to make me look up at him. “But you know…I didn’t think you would turn to my liquor cabinet as a way to blow off steam.”

I glare up at his stupidly handsome and cocky face, “Well consider this bottle of wine your apology.”

He pauses for a moment as he leans in to study my face more. His right eye is glowing as it feels like he’s looking into my very soul. I shiver as I suddenly feel more exposed than ever.

For a moment I feel as if I did in our first encounter, dizzy, confused, and painfully, empty. The whispers of “Devour him,” and “So empty,” echo through my hazy brain.

Suddenly he leans back away from me and that feeling goes away. As I remain frozen, Sylus bursts out into laughter after a moment of pause and suddenly his hand on my lower back tightens its grip.

“Well, I must say this is not how I envisioned things to go…But after seeing what it is you desire most right now…I’m more than happy to ease your frustrations Sweetie.”

My face flushes, fucking damn his stupid ‘desire’ seeing eye! That’s not fair!

“Sylus be serious…” I look away from him.

“Oh I am,” he grabs the bottle from my hand and takes a swig himself, “And here I thought you were disgusted with me…Seems like my kitten is still ever in denial,” he leans in to whisper in my ear, his nose brushes against my skin just below my ear and my back straightens out in attention to his hot breath and fleeting touch. My skin lines itself with goose flesh as his face lightly brushes against my skin and wanders down my throat.

“Mmmm,” he purrs as his lips find a spot on my neck to lick and suck.

I let out a yelp of shock as my hands latch onto the silk of his robe. Sylus just pulls away with a chuckle.

“Hmmm,” he looks down at the bottle of wine in his hand, “Does my kitty need liquid courage to be honest with herself?” He tilts his head and I’m too stunned to retort.

He chuckles and takes a swig from the bottle and leans down to capture my lips and pour the liquid from his mouth to mine.

“Mmph!” I can’t help but yelp as I’m forced to quickly swallow a large mouthful of wine as his mouth now has full access to explore mine.

It’s hot. The room temperature, his body, my body, the atmosphere, it feels like he just lit a fire in me. It all but consumes me as I decide to close my eyes and let his tongue try and find all the things I cannot say on the tip of my own.

As some of the wine had spilt on the side of my lip, Sylus, like a man possessed, goes to lick it up. After our lips are separated is when I notice something tight around my wrist.

We both looked down and the red misty handcuffs seemed to have appeared again.

“Huh…Why is it here now?”

“Let’s save your questions for later Sweetie…” he clears his throat after speaking, “Do you want me to continue? I’m not going to stop unless you say no to me right now.”

His eyes were serious, but they also held something else. It was the first time I ever saw a desperate expression cross his face. This nonchalant crime lord since I met him has always laughed in the face of danger or a challenge. But in this current moment, it seemed like he would crumble if I refuted.

Fuck it.

“Go ahead Sylus,” I say a bit too breathlessly for my own ego, but in the next minute he picks me up fireman style and he’s quickly gliding us to the double doors of his bedroom.

Before my mind can catch up, my back is hitting the plush of a mattress and his lips are kissing down the exposed neckline of my nightgown.

He had set the bottle that was in his hand on the nearby nightstand and both his hands were gliding down the expanse of my body.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he moans out as he lowers the top of the gown to expose my bare breasts to the open air.

His mouth quickly latches on and my head bends back and my legs twist upwards as his large body is currently parting them. I place my hands on his shoulders as his suckles.

“S-Sylus…I-“

“You don’t need to talk… I know,” he pulls away from my chest to reply. He looks sincere and still a little desperate, it’s sending me into a tizzy, but honestly, I’m too turned on to really process everything at the moment.

Suddenly large and hot hands are raking up the hems of my nightgown to meet the sides of my underwear as they’re quickly pulled down.

“Kitten…” he sighs as his head lowers to be face to face with my bare center. He breathes a teasing puff of air at my now hot and aroused sex.

Without a second of hesitation his lips dive in to taste me and I let out a shocked moan as the hand that’s still being shackled by the mysterious Evol grips into his silver locks.

Both my legs wrap around the center of his back as he slowly but purposefully laps his tongue around areas I’ve never even felt before.

“F-Fuck! Sylus,” I cry out as he then decides to just drink the source of wetness from my hole and his tongue enters me.

He places his hands on my stomach and just hums in approval. To think this tongue that’s always lashing out teasing insults is fucking me right now, I moan at the thought that crossed my mind as I feel nothing but a pooling heat drip down into Sylus’s greedy mouth.

It’s hard to stay focused on anything at all as his mouth is lapping up my insides like it’s his final meal. Between that and the feeling of his large hands that reach the whole expanse of my stomach pushing down on me.

I can feel his nose brush against my clit as he works his mouth to devour me whole, and it feels like an invisible thread inside my body just snaps. Suddenly I’m screaming out his name and all he does is chuckle into me and move his other hand to softly grab my non-Evol locked one.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” I cry out as I fully come undone all over his face. Unable to care or think about how his face must be covered in my essence. I feel my body slack in relaxation from an intense release.

Suddenly, a burst of dark matter and energy explodes throughout the room, causing both of us to pause and snap out of our lustful haze.

I’m panting and his wet face comes up from under my dress to show me his bewildered and almost bloodlust expression. After a moment's pause he lets go of my hand and chuckles as he licks his luscious lips.

“Perhaps we should’ve just done this from the start…” he looks down at me with a smile and a look of genuine pride.

“What just…?” I’m still very breathless and dazed from my orgasm.

“That, my lovely kitten, was our resonating.”

Sylus looks so genuinely happy and proud that I can’t help but let out a “huh…”

His eyes darken, “Which means we should further test how much more we can do,” he whispers as he flings off his robe and goes to strip from his trousers.

I lift my wrist and still notice our strange Evol connection, “Well this is still here.”

“It might stay there for awhile Sweetie, we’re not done yet.”

His eyes never leave mine as he removes his boxers. My eyes widen at the sight of his length.

Holy… I think back to the glances I’ve stolen of the bulges of his tight leather pants and I had assumed that he was very well endowed, but seeing it full on display….I was rendered speechless.

“Like what you see?” He teases as his hands are pulling on my nightgown to fully remove it.

I can’t explain why, but suddenly I was relaxed as I was caged underneath him. We’re fully exposed to one another and I would’ve thought the idea of that would be horrific, but currently, it felt…Safe. A dance of a nostalgic feeling trickled within me, but I couldn’t place where those feelings stem from.

He must’ve noticed the shift in my demeanor, as he leaned down to capture my lips. The taste of wine and my sex mingled together as our lips met. It’s no surprise that Sylus’s lips lead me to his whim as his tongue would coax my mouth to his will.

To be expected from the man who always has control.

I let my hands wander down the muscles of his back as we kiss. I decide to rake my nails up and down his back in a light and feathery teasing manner.

Sylus shivers and pulls away, “Be careful kitten…”

He warns as he reaches down to grab my spread legs and places them from being wrapped around his back, to straddling his shoulders.

I hiss at the strength of my muscles as he lines himself up with my body. Sylus looks back at my face, his red eyes are surprisingly gentle as he whispers, “There’s no going back from this Sweetie…You’re finally mine again.”

Before I could really think on his words he slowly enters me and my eyes nearly roll into the back of my head at the feeling.

The voices from that hazy daze I had earlier seem to all simultaneously sigh in contentment along with me. Full, finally full.

Meanwhile Sylus is ontop of me hissing a string of curses, “You feel so good Kitten.”

His praise makes me whimper a bit, he keeps leaning down to kiss and nip at my collar bones as he keeps inching into me.

I feel like I’m drowning as he finally bottoms out and I can’t help but gasp and whine, “Moremoremore,” I cry as I feel teary eyed.

“Who knew you were so greedy?” He chuckles as he begins to thrust at a gradual pace.

“S-Sylus please,” I groan in frustration at his slow movements.

“Please what Sweetie?”

I dig my nails harder into his back as I pull myself up to his ear, “Fuck me like you mean it damnit.”

He snaps at that and suddenly he slams roughly into me and sets a more aggressive tempo to his rhythm.

Sylus leans back to grab at my hips with a throaty groan, “You’re a spoiled kitten,” he pauses as he keeps thrusting at his intense pace, “But I’ll give you anything you want…”

My hands can no longer reach his back or chest so the scrunch the silk sheets around me as I throw my head back and cry. I can feel the tip of his cock buried deep inside me as it pounds into a sensitive spot within me.

I feel like my soul is leaving my body as he takes his thumb to start rubbing my clit. “SylusSylus,” I cry out his name as my back is arching higher and higher, “I’m-I-“

“You can come kitten it’s okay,” he gasps out.

It was like my body could hear his words as I felt nothing but pleasure at my crescendo. I was putty in his hands as he slowed his pace to reach his own peak.

“Sylus,” I whisper, my own voice nearly unrecognizable to my own ears.

“Yes?” His voice choked out as he was clearly struggling to hold on.

“It’s okay….To come inside me…I want you to,” I pant out.

“F-Fuck,” his head drops to my chest again and with one harsh thrust I fill his hot seed spill inside me. I purr and humm at the feeling and I go to bring my hand to play in his hair, when I notice the dark embers flickering from my palm.

“Is this…?” I show him my palm.

“Mhmm…If a certain someone is more attracted to me now we can resonate,” his brow lifts in question as he peers his now tired eyes at me, “Unless you want me to do this every time we need to resonate?”

I tug at his hair to retaliate against his taunting tone, “Don’t start with me Sylus…Let me enjoy this…”

He gives me a soft smile and goes to move himself off me, “Alright…But don’t think you’re safe from me tomorrow kitten.”

I whimper a bit as he detached from me, his spend dripping out of me. He stands from the bed and puts on his robe to walk over to the bathroom as he grabs a fluffy white towel. “Here, let's just clean up and go to bed. I have all the time in the world tomorrow to figure out this Evol bond with you.”

I hum in agreement and finally exhaustion hits me as Sylus wipes between my legs. I blink slowly and don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until the next morning when I’m trapped in the embrace of two strong arms wrapped around me.

I try to move to go to the bathroom but he grips me tighter and whispers, “Don’t go…” into my ear.

I shiver at his pleading voice and just reply back, “Sylus…I just need to use the restroom…let go…”

He tsks his lips and sets me free, I can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. First I wanted to beat the shit out of him and then the next instance we were fucking.

I look in the bathroom mirror and notice dark splotches in my collarbone and neck, I sigh in disappointment at his handiwork. How am I going to cover these…I bet Luke and Kieran will have a field day if they see these.

When I glance down at my palm again I notice a strange red mark on my hands now. I brush my fingers over it and it seems to light up a bit when I touch it.

“Kitten?”

“Hmm?” I leave the bathroom and return to the bedroom where Sylus was looking around confused. “What is it?”

He looks at me and shakes his head, “it just felt like you were calling out to me…”

I look down at my wrist and show it to him, “Do you know what this is?”

He grabs it with a look of concern. “I think we might be even more connected now…”

“Even more? What do you mean?”

He just shakes his head and stands up, “I’m not entirely sure…but I have some theories… You up for a joyride?” He raises a brow.

I pout at his dismissal of answering me properly, “After breakfast…”

He laughs and his eyes light up in amusement, “But of course Sweetie… I’ll make sure you’re fed first.”

Who knows where he wanted to take me…. But as we ate breakfast together I couldn’t help but reflect on something Sylus said last night… “You’re mine again…”

As I ate my food I felt like I had more questions than I would ever get answers for…But something deep in my gut tells me to trust Sylus for now. I’ll have to find a way to get answers behind his back since he never wants to tell me anything.

I just hope the answers I find don’t break my already confused heart.

[papil0nglegs]

TF2 BEDROOMS (pt.2)

Demoman

He has a bedroom but he’s never sober enough to even step a foot inside. He’ll pass out in the break room/bar or try to rent a motel but pass out before he can reach it.

Engineer

He sees no use for a bed. He already has a couch he thrifted for 50 bucks, so no need for a bed. He dozes off while watching tv, still in his overalls. If he doesn’t feel like driving home he’ll use his rancho relaxo to lay on and sleep. No blanket, this man’s temperature is always from 50-100°. If he uses a blanket he’s gonna sweat all over that thing.

Heavy

While I was looking on Pintrest the caption said (heavy icon) and someone commented ‘you don’t have to clarify we know he’s an icon’ and that had me pissing

Has the coziest room ever. That pine smell? Yeah that’s not from any mist or candle, that’s all natural baby. Cleans it to a good extent, his sisters will help him every now and then if he’s too busy. Lots of taxidermy’s, his most noticeable one is his bear rug, probably is most prized possession.

Soldier

He sleeps in the woods. The dirt will be his mattress, the leaves will be his toilet paper, the rain will be his shower, he’ll hunt for his food. Whether Mother Nature likes it or not, he’s apart of her now.

[cookiepie111]

No thoughts just Johnny being captivated by a pretty black lady he sees in a coffee shop (can be read as plus sized!)

He knew he bumped into something, "Watch whaur ye'r gaun"

the memory of dark roasted coffee long forgotten now replaced with golden brown hue of your eyes. His body feels all strange, slow even like he can feel every cell, every flow of blood through his veins. He can't speak. I can't even remember why he's here why he was annoyed. Your face is the only thing he sees

"I'm sorry love you're going to have to say that again accents a bit strong," even your voice is pretty. He knows you said something, but he can't make it out, not when you smile at him with worried eyes. You dab at the coffee stained shirt, the strike that goes through him hits hard, cock jumping against his jeans, stopping his breath for just a moment.

-

"You believe in love at first sight lt?"

"piss off Johnny"

" she gave me her number she mist lik' me!"

"probably felt bad for your sorry ass"

gonna ask her oot oan a date "

"Your loss Johnny"

It's been two weeks and can't stop thinking about you

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys falling in love at first sight

☆ characters: ace, rayleigh, marco

☆ up next: one piece characters with a jealous gf

☆ a/n: my last post generated a lot of new followers and requests! i'm so happy and am excited to start working on all the requests. i also will be posting a master list soon so thank u for being patient with me on that front haha. enjoy! &lt;3

ace

1k words

“Welcome aboard!!”

Cheers erupted from the crew, as they all swarmed the deck.

Joining the Whitebeard Pirates was always celebrated with an enormous party. 

The sun had started to set but it still beat down relentlessly on the ship and Ace craned his neck to try and get a better view.

You were all the crew had been talking about for weeks. 

Some thief who had managed to steal from the Whitebeard Pirates and get away with it. 

He remembers how Whitebeard laughed when Izo and Thatch came moping back from inventory, nearly pissing themselves when they were forced to admit they’d been got by an amateur. 

Whitebeard had ordered that you be tracked down immediately because anyone who stole from him with that much skill and audacity deserved a spot on his crew. 

After a few weeks of searching, Izo came back with you. 

From what he’d heard you weren’t easy to convince. 

There was alcohol being passed around and the spray of champagne bottles being opened left and right misted his neck. 

He pushed through everyone and began making his way toward the front.

He eventually bumped into Marco who’d secured a front-row seat, downing beer as your fellow pirates all came to get a look at you. 

“What’s the big fuss? Can’t get any damn sleep around here,” he groaned. 

Marco laughed, “Jealous that you’re not the shiny new toy anymore?”

“Barely.”

Both men had given up on trying to get a look at you and decided they’d wait for everything to die down.

“Want a beer?” 

Ace nodded and readily accepted the cool can, chugging it within seconds.

“It’s hot as hell out here.”

Marco took another sip of his drink, “If you feel hot how do you think I feel.”

“Well you’re kind of fire too, you know, like- the whole phoenix thing is-”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s different though.”

“I mean, you could argue that the blue fire is hotter than the red part.”

“Yeah, dumbass, but the point of my devil fruit isn’t fire.”

“Okay well, they’re close enough.”

The heat got the better of the both of them and they gave up their argument, both fairly moody at the heat and the noise. 

“When’s the food part starting.”

“Soon probably, apparently Thatch has the hots for the kid.”

Ace choked a bit on his drink.

“What do you mean? Like he thinks he’s hot?”

“She.”

This caught Ace even more off-guard. 

“She!?”

Now he really wanted to get a look at you.

After another few minutes, the crowd relented, and people started making their way back to the rest of the ship. 

As the group of cheering pirates around you thinned, you felt relief flooding your senses. 

You took a deep breath and walked on board the Moby Dick.

It was massive. Now that you could actually see it, you realized just how intimidating of a ship this really was. Of course, you’d had a general idea since you did rob it blind, but still. It was different when you were a welcome guest. 

Ace took his chance now, and as the last of your welcoming party dissipated he made his way over to you.

As if on cue, you turned to look at him. 

The sun was positioned perfectly behind your head and framed you in a sort of angelic light, it poured up and over your frame from behind you, casting golden hues through your h/c hair. 

He stopped in his tracks, one foot still caught mid-step, trailing behind the other.

You were… pretty.

The slight breeze that had been brought with sunset, swept through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open.

Your lips were slightly parted, had you been saying something?

He didn’t know, he was too enraptured with everything else. 

You stood tall, it was clear you had pride to spare.

Your tan skin glimmered with the same regal hue as your hair, and never in his life had Ace felt that something- someone had commanded his attention so thoroughly with just their presence. 

You walked toward him, Oh my god she’s walking toward me.

He was proud and he had abundant confidence in his worth but if he’d ever doubted that, it was now that he did. 

You extended a hand towards Ace, and as if moving through honey your movement was gentle and smooth, but certain. 

“Hi! I’m Y/n, I think I’ve seen your wanted posters before. You-”

Whatever else you said wasn’t registered by the freckled boy in front of you. 

His cheeks were red and his eyes set.

He was breathing deeply, hanging onto everything you did, drinking in the magnificent sight of you.

He instinctively reached his hand up toward his head to take off his hat and hold it against his chest.

Your voice was silky and hung in the air like cigarette smoke. 

The way you looked at him, your eyes intensely focused and direct, had his knees feeling shaky. 

Any ounce of ego left in his body from the first sight of you, drained out of him as you spoke.

His brain was flushed with sudden anxieties.

Had he come across as a creep? What if you took to the other guys? He was young and maybe you wanted something else? Maybe you didn’t even want a guy at all and your ambitions involving piracy had nothing to do with men! 

You looked at him with a puzzled look, your nose wrinkled slightly.

“Are you okay?”

Fuck, she’s so cute.

If he had been less out of it, he would have heard Marco’s cackling in the background.

“Real smooth, Ace!” Thatch yelled from the balcony outside the kitchen.

You laughed, She laughed!

Ace blinked back the muddled thoughts and premature anxieties that had started fuzzing his thoughts. 

You were giggling to yourself and seemed nearly ready to try and introduce yourself to the next person. 

Ace had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he had time. You both had all the time in the world. 

So he instead opted to tip his hat and flash you a smile. 

“Hi.”

rayleigh

1k words

A quick stop, Roger had promised.

No more than two days, he’d said.

Everyone knew he was lying, and that they’d be landbound for at least a week, but no one was going to complain.

Almost no one.

“Roger, we should get going,” Rayleigh urged, but the Captain was three beers and ฿3,000 into a game of poker. They wouldn’t be leaving until morning.

Roger laughed loudly, earning stares from the bar's patrons. 

“What’re you in such a rush for?! There’re women and booze all over the island, go find some to your liking and quit complainin’!” He laughed again and Rayleigh gave up and decided he’d just head back to the ship for now. He’d send someone to pick up the captain in the morning. 

He didn’t mind the island itself. It was a spring island, and the clime sat at a gentle temperature, with easy-going winds. Tall grass covered the majority of the island and flowers were in bloom all over. 

Yellow daffodils and pink tulips littered the island, dotting the hills and fields with spots of color. 

He made his way slowly back toward the ship, taking more time than usual to enjoy the scenery. If he was going to be stuck here he may as well enjoy it. 

The sun was just about the set, and vibrant hues of orange colored the sky and with his hands in his pockets, he wandered through the hills back to sea. 

The island had no real port, there was just a bay where ships parked. There weren’t any walkways or built-in passages from which to disembark from the ship, you simply had to drop the anchor and paddle or swim to the rocky shore. The grass grew right up to the edge of the ocean, and he sat down in it, deciding he’d wait until it got dark. 

A soft rustling to his left caught his attention.

Tucked in the grass, was a girl sleeping, a book in her hands. 

She was wearing a white dress, and it moved together with the grass, back and forth, pushed by the wind.

A cool breeze ran through your body and with a slight shiver, you slowly blinked your eyes open, pushing yourself up onto your elbows, rolling onto your stomach. 

You flipped through the pages of your book, going back and forth a few times before deciding to close it altogether. 

You sat up, stretching your arms out over your head, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. 

Rayleigh was, for lack of a better term, entranced. 

He was completely hypnotized by the sight of you. 

He felt as though you’d materialized before him, a beautiful fairy or something similar.

He’d heard stories of sailors coming across women whose beauty stopped them in their tracks. Women that they thought about every night after those initial encounters, held a complete hold on their minds.

He thought that now he felt something similar. 

He felt awkward just sitting and watching you, and thought he might say something. 

A tug in his chest urged him to stand up and try and present himself, but he felt an irritating nervousness spread throughout his body.

C’mon, Rayleigh.

He was usually so… good at this. 

If he saw a pretty girl at a bar or a port or an island he would just talk to her. 

Everything after that came naturally. 

He was a Roger pirate for god’s sake, people around the globe feared him and revered him, and yet… and yet with every breath, he took to try and start a sentence he came up blank. 

The thirty seconds he’d spent trying to speak to you felt like an hour and he thought his heart might stop when you’d turned around to look at him. 

“Oh! Hello!”

He drew in a breath. 

The colored sunset light fell on your face and illuminated your features in soft hues.

Your eyes widened slightly at the man standing before you and you gave him an awkward smile. 

“Have you been standing there a long time?”

An accusatory look settled on your face, and your lips settled into a frustrated pout.

“I, um, yes,” he admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, “I wasn’t- I mean- I had just sat here to enjoy the, um-”

“Yeah, yeah, you creep, I get it.”

You laughed as you said this, and he relaxed a little.

“You’re not from around here are you?” you asked.

“What gave it away?”

“You seem surprised that someone was sleeping outside. It’s normal here, I swear I’m not some weirdo or anything. Our grass is known for being soft.”

He sat back down, slightly closer to you this time.

“What’s that?”

You sat closer to him, pointing to the log pose on his wrist. 

“It’s a compass. Pirates use it on the Grand Line, it works by using the magnetism from each island to route the way toward the next one.”

“You’re a pirate! You don’t look like one! Or act like one.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

You giggled, and he felt completely swept up by your presence. How quickly you started trusting him, the curiosity in your voice that only grew with each question he answered. 

You continued asking him questions, what being a pirate was like, why he was a pirate, and who else did he know that was a pirate. Had he killed anybody?

The more you talked, the more he started feeling like himself. His wittiness and sarcasm started slowly coming back to him, he was able to put aside his awe for your beauty in exchange for his usual flirtiness.

The dynamic between you seemed to shift back and forth between who felt bold and who felt shy. 

“Do you drink?”

“Do I look like I drink?”

Rayleigh laughed, and you joined him. 

Night had set hours ago, yet you kept talking as though you had all the time in the world.

You inched even closer to him, he sat with his legs crossed, and you sat on your knees, feet tucked underneath you. 

You were facing each other and you leaned forward, bringing your lips closer to his.

“When do you leave?”

He tucked some stray pieces of hair behind your ear, trailing a hand down your face.

You rested your head against his palm, looking up at him. 

“Soon.”

“That’s too bad. I like you a lot. You’re more than a pretty face.”

Rayleigh smiled at that, “I haven’t heard that one before!”

In a burst of energy and eagerness you pressed your lips to his, and just as quickly retracted. 

He smiled again, bigger this time, and brought his arms around your waist, holding you in place. 

You pressed another kiss to his lips, still too quickly for him to reciprocate. 

He laughed and you felt proud at the blush you saw coloring his cheeks. 

“Tell me, pirate, are you busy tonight?”

“Not at all, pretty.”

“Would you like to be?”

“Very much.

marco 

1.2k words

“Why can’t you send Ace to do it?”

“‘Cause I sent ‘im to go get fish from the market,” Thatch explained, “And before you ask, I can’t go either ‘cause I’ll be here. Cooking.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll be back soon.”

Marco threw on a sweater and made his way into the town they were staying in. Thatch was all worked up and excited since they’re known for their produce and food quality.

Naturally, everyone had been sent out to get different ingredients for him.

Marco looked down at the short list he was given, ‘Apples’. 

‘Very concise,’ he thought to himself. 

It was midday and the sun was shining. It was fairly warm on the island, and it was covered in trees. 

There were several signs that pointed him towards the location of the apple farm your family owned. 

He found it with ease and walked around for a bit when he didn’t see anyone out front. 

Every tree was teaming with ripe apples of all kinds. Overripe ones littered the floor and there were some chickens walking around. 

He had been walking for no more than five minutes before he saw you.  

You were reaching up to try and grab the apples that were up on the higher branches of the tree.

You strained your arms upward, using the trunk of the tree as support, your long legs balancing on the tips of your toes. 

Your short dress slid up against your thighs, revealing a soft tan line. 

A few beads of sweat formed on your forehead and after your third reach with no success, you gave up. 

He could feel the pace of his heartbeat start to pick up slightly. 

You looked so calm and at ease. The line of your body as you stretched upward was tantalizing and he couldn’t look away. 

He didn’t want to scare you so he gently cleared his throat.

You turned around in a panic, knocking over a few of the apples in the full baskets that were on the floor next to you.

“Oh! Welcome! Sorry! Sorry- I’m the only one in today and I was trying to get a few more baskets full,” you explained to him. 

“No worries,” Marco said. His voice was deep and he sounded so laid back. 

You were still a bit too far to converse at a normal volume so you walked to him, caught off-guard by how handsome he was. 

He wasn’t wearing anything surprising, nor was he doing anything that was out of the ordinary but you could tell that he wasn’t from around here. 

His hands were calloused and he had a few visible scars spread across the visible parts of his skin.

“What can I get for you today,” you smiled at him. 

“I was sent out for apples! I suppose I’ll take two baskets pleas-”

Marco’s voice trailed off and he cut off his own sentence as he looked and actually made eye contact with you. 

Oh, god. 

He knew you’d probably be hot based on what he’d seen earlier but you were… unspeakably beautiful. 

Your cheeks were full and bright.

Your lips were a lively pink and your eyes caught the shifting glimmers of sunlight in them.

Your hair was pulled back into two messy braids and your loose strands of hair swept back and forth over your face. 

You were unbelievably flattered. 

Naive as you were to love and its complications, you knew what a tempted man looked like. 

An unfamiliar sensation tugged at your chest. You felt like the tendons and muscles around your heart were opening and contracting wildly. 

Your breath hitched in your throat and settled itself right on your vocal cords, you couldn’t say anything. 

You both held a hilariously awkward form of eye contact for several moments. 

Marco swallowed and cleared his mind, regaining his composure to the best of his ability.

“Two of these,” he said again, blinking his gaze down toward the floor as he gestured down toward the basket. 

You took a deep breath and nodded, grabbing another basket for him. 

They were heavier than they looked and after watching your two failed tries at lifting the baskets, Marco offered some help. “Oh, y-yes, please! Thanks,” you said, stepping back as he walked over and picked up the baskets with ease.

“How much do I owe ya?”

“Um.. j-just ฿15.”

“Fifteen?! That’s it?”

“We have, um, a discount going on right now... For handsome travelers.”

Why would I say that? Oh my god, why would I say that!? your cheeks started to rapidly heat up and you shuffled your feet nervously.

Your heart started beating faster against your chest when Marco responded, “How sweet. Take this as a tip then.”

He had a devilishly handsome smile on his face, and you looked at the money he was handing you. “Oh fifty is way too much- I can’t accept that, that’s more than the two baskets would normally be anyway.”

“Well, this is what I always tip beautiful girls.”

You laughed, trying to ignore the rising temperature of your face. 

How embarrassing to be this easily flustered. 

He smiled at you, clearly enjoying himself. 

“C’mon, I insist,” he closed your hand around the money and gently guided your hand back toward your chest. 

You pouted, feeling guilty that he gave you so much money.

“You’re sure?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pirate,” he said, “There’s a lot more where this came from.”

His voice was full of confidence but he was so relaxed. 

It made your stomach twist.

The way he carried himself- you could tell he was dangerous, but he was so laid back. 

“A pirate?”

He nodded.

You put the money away, and played with the ends of your braids, unsure of what to say to him. 

He bent down, one arm on each side of you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you stood frozen still.

He picked up the baskets, one in each hand, from your sides.

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day here, I’m afraid I have to report back soon.”

You nodded, sheepishly looking down at the floor. 

He smiled at you again, winking this time. 

He turned and started walking back toward the entrance.

You knew you’d probably never see him again and a kind of unknown anxiety made its way to your chest. 

“Wait!” you called out, running after him.

He turned around.

“Will... Will I see you again?”

This time a less nonchalant smile spread across the Commander’s face. 

“Oh, absolutely,” he teased, “I’ve got wanted posters in every town from here to North Blue.”

You pouted again.

So cute! Marco thought to himself.

“You know what I mean.”

“I can work something out.”

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Marco,” he answered, “What’s yours?”

“Y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty face.”

You smiled. 

He couldn’t help but stare. 

It suddenly dawned on Marco the Phoenix, First Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, that he was positively, undoubtedly fucked. 

You stood in front of him, waiting for him to say something else. 

“You’ll see me again,” he said, this time with unwavering certainty,

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6. Don’t make plans for the next morning.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son

BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)

It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.

A Tale as Old as Time.

The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.

The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.

The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.

Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.

This was happily ever after, a dream come true.

It should have been.

Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.

“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”

The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"

“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."

"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"

"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."

Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."

Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."

I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?

The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."

His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.

"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"

Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.

Love.

"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.

"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"

Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"

"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."

Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.

"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."

"I never knew my mother."

"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."

Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."

There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.

Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.

Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.

"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.

The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"

He received no answer.

“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”

Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”

Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.

Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.

Did my mother truly…?

“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”

“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.

The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.

A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.

Wouldn’t that be something?

"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."

The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.

He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.

“Thank you, Spade.”

Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.

A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.

And what a wonderful dream it was.

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem

Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 

Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!

Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.

Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 

He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.

To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 

The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 

“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 

“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”

“Got your phone on you?”

Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 

“Got it.”

“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”

Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 

Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 

“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 

A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 

Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 

Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 

Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.

“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”

“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.

He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.

Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 

Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 

“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”

Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 

It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 

They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 

The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 

Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.

The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.

“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 

The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.

He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 

And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 

The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 

Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.

Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”

The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.

Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 

“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.

“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”

“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”

“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”

Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”

“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”

“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 

Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 

Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?

There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.

Well.

It’s a problem for later.

For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.

He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.

“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”

Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 

Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.

He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 

When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 

Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”

He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.

Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.

He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 

Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 

“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 

There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.

Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 

Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.

Nothing’s there.

Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 

He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 

His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.

But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.

He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 

The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 

“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”

“Where were you?”

Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”

Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”

“Nope!”

“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”

“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”

Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”

“Oh, do we? Good to know.”

There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 

“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”

Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”

He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.

“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”

“Depends on what you’re asking about?”

“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”

Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”

“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”

“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 

“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”

“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.

“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”

“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”

He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”

Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.

Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”

“A car?”

“A car?!”

Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”

“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”

“Playing nurse for me now?”

“If I have to.”

“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.

Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”

Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 

“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”

“Danny, you’re killing me here.”

“Better me than a car.”

Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”

“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 

Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.

He just needs to keep a secret. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

[hannahssimblr]

Fridays end, as they always do, as the life drawing class filters out of the room, and I scrub charcoal from my hands with the icy water in the classroom sink. I don’t know how I do it, get smudges on my fingers, my hands, the sleeves of my sweatshirt, but invariably I do. I use an old paintbrush left lying on the ledge to scrub my fingernails, too. They’re always filthy. I think I am inherently messier than everyone else, somehow, despite my best intentions to be something else. 

“Und dein Gesicht.” The tutor, Gunther, says casually as he saunters from the room, shattering the illusion I had of having cleaned myself off. My face, too? How did it get on my face? The silver tap reflects a smudge above my eyebrow. I bring a handful of water to wash it away, and the coldness stings my skin. I shiver as it trails down my neck and under my collar. Cold. I’m always cold these days, even as January has limped into February and, along with the new year snow, my delusions that spring is just waiting to burst through the frozen soil, have melted.

My face, still damp, feels like it might freeze solid as I trudge across campus to the lecture halls. This is part of my Friday routine, too: Visiting the lecture hall. Not because I have an actual lecture. My art history class is on Wednesday. Astrid has it on Friday afternoon, finishing at half four, and I like to be there to meet her. My phone reads 16:40, the screen is bright in the fading light and the mist, grey, cloud hanging low over the brick pavers.

I make myself known with a knock on the door. It’s ajar, the room vacant of all students but Astrid, and she stands by a desk, her white blonde hair covering her face as she murmurs in German still too sophisticated for me to understand. 

It’s Steffen who she is speaking to. Her art history lecturer. A rumpled, mousy-haired man with a leather satchel always slung across his body. He has an incessant need to discuss the minutiae of Astrid’s academic essays with her after class far more often than he does any of his other students. He wants her alone, and it sends a shiver up my spine. His lack of concern about being creepy is alarming. I could go around to everyone on campus and describe him as some lecherous old weirdo hunting women half his age. He would be ostracised, ridiculed for it, but it’s like the thought hasn’t crossed his mind, like he’s lacking some basic element of male shame.

I don’t like it. It freaks me out. I hate the way he holds her hostage after hours like this, and his habit of looking at her like she’s not flesh and blood, but some sort of otherworldly, celestial thing for him to rake his eyes over as he pleases. He enjoys her too much.  

“Hello,” I say with all the obnoxiousness I can muster, and they both look up. Perhaps I am projecting onto Steffen, this notion I’ve bamboozled him, pissed him off by interrupting his time with my girlfriend, while he innocently helps her with her essay on female painters of the 16th century, but I swear he gives me a look, and I give one in return. He’s so weedy. I wonder if he knows that if the rules of university were the same as the primitive, hierarchical rules of secondary school, I would have snapped him in half already. Look at him, and his stupid glasses and his stupid leather bag. 

“Danke, Steffen,” Astrid says, and scoops her books from his desk. I keep my eyes on him as she walks away, to make sure he’s not watching her do it, and I keep them on him until she has slipped out of the room ahead of me. I’ve never felt more like a territorial dog. 

“Good chat?” I say, my intentions of sounds casual coming out weird instead, while Astrid strolls along next to me, examining the paintings hung along the walls of the hallway. 

“Oh, yes, it was fine. We talked about Marietta Robusti, mostly. Steffan was showing me paintings of bowls of peaches and things.”

“Peaches?”

“Yeah, she painted peaches proficiently.”

“Right. You were just talking about peaches. He didn’t, like, say anything else to you, did he?”

“Not really. Why?”

She pulls on her coat as we exit to the courtyard and brace against the gust of icy wind. “Because of what I was saying before, about being careful around that guy. I think he wants more from you than discussion about bowls of peaches, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, I thought about that. You’re could be right.”

“I’m right?”

“Yes, I think he has a certain way of looking at me when we’re talking.”

“Oh,” I pause, having expected pushback. “Well, yeah, I think so too, and I think you should be careful about being alone with him.”

“Jude!” she cries, “He’s my tutor. I can’t stay away from him, exactly.”

“Yeah, but if he wants to drag you up every class to talk to you alone, then maybe you should pretend to be too busy. At least then you won’t be uncomfortable-”

“I’m not uncomfortable. He was saying interesting things about Marietta Robusti.”

“Marietta Robusti,” I echo, forlorn, and I hold the door to the café where we have our Friday afternoon coffee. “Maybe he should email you about Marietta Robusti and her famous peaches, huh? Has he heard of Gmail?”

“Or maybe you shouldn’t worry so much. It’s okay. He’s my tutor, and if he wants to speak to me about my assignments, then it is fine. If he wants to fuck me, I’ll say no. It’s like you think he will coerce me. Like he will lock the door of the classroom and trap me inside.”

“Yes, that’s what I was picturing. That he’d throw a big sack over you like a cartoon villain and run away with you slung over his shoulder.”

“Why do you say things like that? As if he has a sack waiting under his desk with which to steal women.”

I laugh at her unintentional comedy, and we reach the top of the queue. “Könnte ich bitte einen Latte, einen Americano und ein Stück von diesem Kuchen haben?”

The barista nods. 

“I don’t want any cake today. I’m not hungry,” Astrid says. As we shrug out of our coats and hang them across the back of our chairs, I nod, “I’ll have it all to myself, then.”

I reach across the table for her hand, and stroke my thumb across the sharp peaks and valleys of her knuckles. 

“Later, I think we should go to a play I’ve been interested in seeing,” she says. I pull a face, and she frowns. “What?”

“I hate plays.”

“That’s ridiculous. You cannot hate an entire art form.”

“I do. I just don’t like the way they talk and move their faces. It makes me cringe, and I find them unwatchable.”

“They need to talk and move their faces to say the lines.”

“We can’t go to a play, anyway. My friend Jen is coming.”

“Oh, is that today?” our order arrives, and she dunks her spoon through the foam of her latte to destroy the steamed milk heart on top. “I forgot it was happening.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving to collect her from the station in, like, half an hour.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you still up for dinner at mine?”

“Oh, yes, we planned that too, didn’t we?” She exhales slowly. “Yes, I suppose. Though you live so much further from here than I do. Wouldn’t it be easier if we ate at my apartment?”

“What, like you’ll cook?”

“No, you can still cook, but at mine. Wouldn’t it be more comfortable?”

I take a contemplative bite of chocolate cake. Astrid’s apartment is smaller, but it has the unique benefit of not smelling like tobacco, and a heating system that works with some semblance of reliability. Still, we had a specific plan. Now I’ll have to tell Jonas.

“If that’s what you want,” I say with reluctance. “I suppose your place is a good bit nicer than mine.”

“I think Jen would like it.”

Jen wouldn’t care, but I nod in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. It’ll be nice for her to go straight to a nice warm apartment, rather than, like… mine.”

“So true.” She steals a crumb of cake that crumbles onto my plate. “And I want to be in a good mood when I meet her. I feel I will be a little tired after travelling to yours.”

“Mm, good thinking.”

Astrid reaches for my fork, and I relinquish it. I watch as she digs wholeheartedly into the remains of my chocolate cake, then finally, in defeat, I slide the plate to her and let her finish the whole thing.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[rosanna-writer]

The Great War

Summary: An alternate take on Feyre's first meeting with the Inner Circle, in which she learns that immortals can truly fight about something pointless forever. Warnings: None Word Count: ~1.5k

Happy @officialfeysandweek! My entry for the "eternal" prompt goes out to all my Fahrenheit warriors out there <3

Some text is lifted directly from A Court of Mist and Fury.

You can read it under the cut or Here on AO3.

Rhys sauntered over to the two males standing by the dining room doors. I hesitated. The slightly larger male was leering at me, and I had half a mind to force Rhys to make good on his promise to bring me home as soon as I asked.

I didn't like being looked at like fresh meat.

The male chuckled and said, "Just one question for Feyre. How do you measure the feeling of the air on your skin?"

"Cassian…." Rhys said. An obvious warning.

I blinked, unsure if this was some sort of trick or test or just more faerie bullshit. "Fahrenheit?" I said, hating how uncertain I sounded. But it was what we'd always used in the mortal lands.

Rhys stilled. The two winged males shared a significant look. Perhaps that had been the wrong answer.

The second one studied me, then said, "Interesting. Rhys is the only member of our group who doesn't prefer Celsius. I'm surprised he's finally found another after all these years."

Rhys slid his hands into his pockets. "I don't see why you're so surprised to hear that Feyre darling has the correct opinion about how to best measure temperature."

He sounded pleased, and honestly…he was right, even if I wasn't sure why it mattered. If this were a test, it seemed like I'd passed. Though I couldn't imagine what measures of temperature could possibly have to do with working for Rhysand and stopping Hybern from bringing down the Wall.

I also couldn't help but feel a bit defensive."It's more intuitive. Why would anyone use Celsius if they don't have to?"

Cassian's grin widened until it was nothing short of wolfish. He opened his mouth to say something, but Rhys cut him off and said, "Cassian is the general of my armies, and Azriel is my spymaster. More importantly, we're brothers, at least in the sense that all bastards are brothers of a sort."

Under the Mountain, I'd never considered the possibility that Rhysand might have siblings. Or any family at all actually. He'd made certain no one thought he cared about anything but himself.

Perhaps…perhaps it had been foolish of me not to see the lie for what it was.

Azriel held out a hand for me to shake. I took it, trying not to stare at the brutal scars that covered his skin. Burns, if I had to guess. A large cobalt stone graced the back of each of his gauntlets as well.

"Welcome," he said, voice flat. Not warm, but…not unkind, either.

Cassian's eyes tracked my movement as I shook Azriel's hand then released it. His lips twitched to the side. Now that I knew he was a general, for a moment, I honestly thought he was about to point out something about how the shifting of my feet made me vulnerable to an opponent.

Instead, he said, "I don't see what's so intuitive about a scale where water freezes at thirty-two degrees and boils at two hundred and twelve."

Azriel sighed, tipping his head back and looking skyward as if he were praying for strength. "Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand…good luck."

A friend. Not a human-faerie thing or savior of their land. They couldn't know; perhaps Rhys hadn't said—

But Cassian nudged his bastard-brother-whatever out of the way, Azriel’s mighty wings flaring slightly as he balanced himself. Apparently, the discussion of temperature measurement wasn't over quite yet. "A scale that ranges from zero to one hundred is much easier to follow."

"If you're stupid enough to need a dumbed-down scale to measure temperature, then you're beyond help," I snapped, already sick of faerie bullshit.

Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Unsure what to make of it, I looked to Rhys. His gaze met mine, and his violet eyes glimmered with something that might have been pride.

I almost demanded an explanation right then and there, but Mor breezed onto the balcony with, "If Cassian’s howling, I hope it means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth."

"Actually," Rhys said, "Cassian is howling because Feyre made some incredibly valid points regarding the weaknesses of Celsius as a measurement scale."

"By the Cauldron, are we still going on about this after five centuries? Fahrenheit is useless, Rhys, just give it up," Mor said.

"It's not useless. It's more precise," I said. "The difference between one degree is smaller on the Fahrenheit scale, so you can be more specific and still use whole numbers."

"Exactly," Rhys said. "It's such a relief to finally have someone around who sees reason. Fahrenheit is the superior unit by far."

I'd stepped closer to him without even realizing. How strange, after everything, to be standing at Rhysand's side as if it were exactly where I belonged. United—and over temperature measurement of all things.

Cassian's knees bent, as if he were dropping into a fighting stance. Gods, did they really care enough about temperature measurements for the argument to come to blows?

I wondered what exactly I'd agreed to when I said I'd come to dinner tonight.

But if Mor had noticed Cassian's movement, she was utterly unbothered by it, tossing her long, golden hair over a shoulder. "Both you and Feyre are insane, then. If you really think such an arbitrary—"

"Enough," Azriel said, his voice laced with dangerous quiet. "We have company."

Cassian straightened, and he and Mor allowed themselves to be herded back through the open balcony doors and into the dining room. Both of them pressed their lips together, as if there were more they wanted to say but held back.

Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing. "Relax, Az. We promised Rhys no fighting tonight, even over temperature."

I fell into step with Rhysand as we headed inside. Our eyes met, and his lips twitched into a small, conspiratorial smile meant just for me. Against my better judgment, my stomach flipped, even as I smiled back.

I was in for a whole world of trouble.

There was one last member of Rhysand's Inner Circle waiting for us inside. Even though the short, delicate woman looked like High Fae…as Rhys had warned me, every instinct was roaring to run. To hide.

This, I supposed, was Amren.

"So there are two of you now," she said, and the full weight of her strange silver gaze landed on me.

"Two of us?" I said.

"Two people foolish enough to cling to Fahrenheit, an outdated system based on the temperature of a cow's anus. The girl must be the only other person alive who prefers it; no wonder she's your—"

"Enough," Rhys said, his voice harsher than I'd ever heard it. A command. As one, Cassian, Mor, and Azriel whipped their heads around to stare at him in shock.

Amren's answering smile made me shiver. "Very well, High Lord. I'll let you finish that sentence in your own time."

It was going to be a long dinner.

*I don’t know how long we lay there, lazily touching each other, as if we might indeed have all the time in the world.

***

"I think I fell in love with you," Rhys murmured, stroking a finger down my arm, “the moment I realized you were cleaving those bones to make a trap for the Middengard Wyrm. Or maybe the moment you flipped me off for mocking you. It reminded me so much of Cassian. For the first time in decades, I wanted to laugh."

"You fell in love with me," I said flatly, "then and not when I agreed with you that Fahrenheit is the better way to measure temperature?"

He huffed a laugh. "No, I was already hopelessly in love with you by that dinner. But I think that's when my brothers began to suspect we were mates. Mor and Amren knew, but I don't think they truly understood the depth of our connection until that moment."

"It's just temperature measurement. I don't see why it matters so much," I said, brows furrowing.

"Because for centuries, I was the only one on that side of the argument. And then you arrived and instantly joined the fight, and I felt less alone. Like I didn't have to carry all my burdens myself anymore."

You needed to not be alone…

There had been more truth to what he'd said about the bargain—the bond really—than I'd thought. That I'd needed to not be alone when I'd agreed to it.

My throat went tight as I brushed a lock of raven hair off his forehead. "Neither one of us will ever be alone again, mate," I whispered.

He kissed me with heartbreaking softness—Rhysand had been so rarely afforded opportunities to be gentle. I parted my lips and groaned at the way his tongue slowly caressed mine.

I slid a hand down his shoulder, only to be met with a glob of wet, sticky paint. Gods, we'd made an utter mess of the bed and ourselves, and some of the paint had half-dried, crusting in my hair and on his wings.

Rhys pulled back, meeting my eyes as his expression melted into something positively wicked. "I supposed that means you'll have to bathe with me, then."

I flushed, suddenly warm all over, and before I could scramble off the bed myself, Rhys had scooped me up into his arms. He carried me to the bath, where the cabin's magic had already had the water running.

Together, we slid into the tub, where the spell had heated the water to a perfect one hundred degrees Fahrenheit.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE LOV HEADCANONS

If you were to be kidnapped by the LOV, the league of villains, they would be watching you like creepy stalkers for a VERY LOONG time. It would be really infuriating for them to watch you doing the same boring things over and over again and again for days together. Won't you EVER get bored of living that bland vanilla life? You CLEARLY needed some spice in your life, at least, that's what THEY felt (Read, more like what DABI and TWICE felt. Shigaraki just didn't give a damn about you, that egoistical prick)

But no matter how much Shigaraki claimed that you were a useless spoiled brat, even HE couldn't shake off his feelings for you. Toga and Dabi would often tease him about it which would always result in a full fledged slapping war till mama Kurogiri tells the crybabies to CALM TF down

HECK, even KUROGIRI thinks you won't be so bad... When the other members of the LOV asked him to open up his warp gate and help them kidnap you, he resisted saying that you just needed some time. Even he was curious as to why most of the members of the LOV had suddenly taken an interest in you 

You were the prey, the victim they ALL fell in love with and the fact that they weren't controlling you yet and possessing you yet was pissing them TF off and was driving them INSANE

It won't be long before they kidnap you. You might be skipping along one day, looking like a happy cute adorable little chipmunk that's excited for something and suddenly, BOOM! Everything goes dark and fog and mist surrounds you (Cue the special effects and the dramatic evil chuckling and creepy organ music playing from the middle of nowhere) 

You would be TERRIFIED out of your wits to see Kurogiri just staring at you as well as the other members of the LOV as well (Well, of COURSE, who WOULDN'T be scared of out of their minds when you see villains glaring at you?) This is their chance to PROVE to you that you shouldn't place your faith and waste your breath on those pathetic no good hero scum who are useless most of the times anyway 

You would be gagged for a few days, chained and all. Dabi would have to deal with Toga's constant pestering asking whether she could make you bleed since she thinks you look cute and adorable in red and with blood all over you... Damn, this is scary

Crusty lips would be the MOST SCARIEST yandere, no doubt about that. He'd threaten you the most, show you the LEAST amount of love and affection, and basically, acts like a spoiled kid with the aura of a demon. He might even threaten to turn you to ash if you don't stop flinching away and turning away from him (SOMEONE HAND ME A KNIFE, I HAVE A CRUSTY RAT TO STAB!!!!! UvU)

That arrogant jerkface would LOVE to taunt you, call you all sorts of names and he gets some sick sort of pleasure seeing how HELPLESS you were under HIS control, poor sweet dumb little thing.... He wouldn't actually turn you to ash but seeing the way you squirm around from time to time just makes him feel so... aroused and gets all these crazy thoughts about you that'll be left to YOUR imagination ;)

Is Toga a yandere? BWAHAHAHAHAH XD Is that even a QUESTION to ask? She is the MASTER of all yanderes, and I honestly think she and Ayano Aishi from Yandere Simulator would be best pals and killing buddies. She'd swoon all over you and coo how cute you are in that sickeningly sugar coated voice of hers and say how beautiful you'd look in blood till Dabi pulls her away from you. When it's her turn to spend time with the LOV's 'pet' she's gonna literally POUNCE on you, trying to take your blood, tying you up and making you beg for more (HONESTLY, how TF is she NOT a vampire!!!???) She LOVES being dominant and unfortunately for you, you're her little plaything 

Twice is kinda chill AND DEADLY scary at the same time. I think he has a bipolar personality since one minute he's gonna be laughing with you and the next minute he's gonna do somethin dangerous towards you. This guy's really unpredictable and it's horrifying. You might be running into HIS arms for comfort AND yet, at the same time, you might be running away from him too like your hair's on fire. This dude's personality is so unpredictable, is damn scary.... TvT 

Mr Compress might just be the BEST yandere or captor you could EVER ASK for, PERIODT. He'd treat you well and certainly not like it when the other members try harming you in any way. He would never degrade you either. He'll take you to his room at night and show you all  sorts of cool magic tricks and slow dance with you like in those cutesy dramatic romantic movies. He'd stroke his thumb over your soft lips, caress your cheeks lovingly and say how cute and adorable and amazing you were and how he'd be your source of comfort from those overgrown morons with an IQ of a sardine tin can. He'll LOVE it when you're dependent on him and ONLY him and he would NEVER bring himself to hurt you like the others (Man, this dude is making me cry....)

Dabi couldn't care less at first when he saw you. He thought you were another little plaything for his use and he'd toss you away like a Kleenex after you were broken. And yet, something about you just attracts him to you and that's actually pretty terrifying. If Dabi's in a bad mood, you better start saying your freaking prayers since this man takes sadism to a WHOLE NOTHER level, it's a question now, who's more of a sadist. Dabi or Shigaraki? If he's in a good mood, he'll just ask you to shut up and cuddle with you and rub some gentle circles on your back

To piss Crusty Face Handyman even MORE, he'll make you sit on his lap during meetings while Shigaraki's gonna be damn pissed at BOTH you and HIM and that'll jus t make the prick Dabi satisfied. Sometimes, he won't be so bad to you, otherwise he's gonna make you do all sorts of things you're uncomfortable with and he's gonna be like your WORST NIGHTMARE in HUMAN form. He and Shigaraki might even TAG TEAM when it comes to your punishments and they CERTAINLY WON'T be your favorite yanderes, that's for SURE

Oh JESUS... when it comes to Spinner he's like the MOST SOFTEST yandere EVER just like Mr. Compress. He LOVES showering you with love and affection, and he's just so pure, he can't EVER hurt you... OMG, MY HEART!!!!!....

He CERTAINLY feels bad with Compress when the league uses you as their personal stress toy and hence, they're the ones who'll actually take care of you and treat you with such gentle care and tender love. He'll be one who'll actually make you happy, by sneaking food for you when the league tries to starve you since you were being bad, talk to you about the things you like and care about, won't EVER touch you inappropriately since he DROWNS in his respect women juice and feels really bad since he can't help you escape. This boi is so PRECIOUS, IMMA DIE FROM A CUTENESS OVERLOAD!!!!!!!!!!

Kurogiri will be like the parental figure and whenever the punishments get out of hand like the villains trying to touch you inappropriately and all, he'll be there to stop in no time. Though he's a villain, he cares for you just like Compress and Spinner. He won't hesitate to punish you, but his punishments will just be a bit tamer than the ones the others give. His punishments will be something like him just ignoring you for a few hours and all that. He'll make sure to take good and proper care of you and feed you and on time and ensure you aren't malnourished. He'll talk to you about the current things going on around the world and honestly... he ain't so bad

In my opinion, Stain is a chivalrous guy. He won't torture you, EVER nor will he ever invade your personal space. He thinks you're cute and adorable and he'll compliment you oh just a DOZEN times a day. Like Kurogiri, he ensures you're safe and all right and after a harsh treatment with the Terrifying Trio (aka. Stabby blood rat, crusty chicken nugget and BURNT chicken nugget) he'll be there to comfort you and wipe your tears away and gently hold you to sleep after he tends to your injuries. If you're locked away somewhere, he'll at the very least try sneaking some food for you and telling you that you're strong and you'll be able to cope with it and gently encourage you

[frostedfaves]

I Know Best

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You decide to misbehave at the same time Wanda's home is threatened and she's pissed about it. (rewrite of WandaVision, episode 5)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mean mommy Wanda (but soft later), dom/sub dynamics, smut: punishment by overstimulation (and crying as a result), wanda uses her powers for evil 🤭, fingering

A/N: so not following the decades thing entirely because Wanda looks the same as she did in present day but she does change into her Scarlet Witch fit when she feels threatened 👀 anyway enjoy!

-

It wasn’t often that you went against Wanda’s rules.

You very well knew the consequences of doing so, and truthfully you’d gotten so used to her loving guidance and control of things that you wouldn’t dare go back. That control extended to how and when you touched yourself, which happened to be the very rule you’re breaking now.

You were watching a movie on Netflix that wasn’t in English, but you weren’t paying much attention to the subtitles anyway when the two women appeared on screen, hands all over each other. It reminded you of many passion filled nights with your love, and it was that reminder that caused your mind (and hands) to wander.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The voice comes from behind the couch where you currently have your fingers tucked in your underwear beneath a blanket. Without giving you a chance to answer, the blanket is lifted and your hand is ripped away from your body entirely with your wrist in Wanda’s unrelenting grip.

“I left you alone for an hour. If you need something, you ask me,” she practically growls in your ear, chuckling when she notices you’re shaking. “Oh darling, don’t get scared now. You know better and I know best.”

Before she can say anything else, you both hear what sounds like a plane coming in from outside, which instantly makes her stand up fully and rush to the door. She warns you to stay inside and magically locks the door behind herself as she exits. You rush to the peephole just in time to catch her taking down a drone, grabbing it from the ground and flying off toward the edge of town.

“Is this yours?” Wanda challenged as she tossed the drone toward Hayward, nearly taking him down in the process.

“The missile was just a precaution. You can hardly blame us, Wanda.”

“Oh I think I can,” she replies, a crimson color building in the center of her eyes. “This will be your only warning. Stay out of my home. You don’t bother me, and I don’t bother you.”

“I wish it could be that simple. You’ve taken an entire town hostage.”

Wanda decides to humor the agents by going back and forth with them despite being pissed beyond belief that she was interrupted, even allowing Monica to talk about being an ally before turning them all against each other and making her escape. Despite making her way back into town, her protective attire doesn’t change back to the comfy cleaning clothes she left in. It sticks to her like the anger from any kind of intrusion to her new home and your sudden disobedience all in the same minute.

“Wanda, what was that?” you immediately question when she opens the door, standing up and immediately feeling the urge to sit down again when you make eye contact. “Mommy?”

Wanda doesn’t answer you as she approaches but instead starts ripping your clothing from your body, waiting until you’re fully exposed to push you back down onto the couch. She forces your legs open as wide as they can go, not even smiling this time when she notices your shaking underneath her.

“You want to cum so bad that you couldn’t wait to ask? Fine. Let’s make you cum, slut.”

She delivers a loud slap to your exposed pussy that draws an embarrassed whimper from you, even more so when you realize just how turned on this encounter has made you despite everything. You know she’s well aware of this when she suddenly plunges two fingers inside of you quite easily, but you don’t expect the red mist surrounding her hand and the strong vibration that follows.

“What’s the matter?” Wanda questions with false sympathy as she watches you toss your head back against the couch. “Can’t take Mommy’s fingers suddenly?”

“I can t-take it,” you mumble between gasps and moans.

“Say that again?” 

“I said–ah!” 

You cry out again as she firmly places her free hand over your clit, more red mist and vibration now surrounding the entire area. You’re bucking your hips and clenching muscles, having barely enough time to even ask to cum this time before you reach your peak. You expect her to stop then, but she keeps everything going without letting up even as you try to squirm away from her.

“No, don’t fucking fight it now. You wanted this.”

She uses her elbows to force your legs back open as they threaten to box her in, and it seems that she only strengthens the vibration each time your body jerks away until you finally give up and take it all.

“Mommy please,” you beg however many orgasms later, coughing hard suddenly while tears continuously stream from the corner of your eyes and down past your ears.

“Had enough?” Wanda questions unnecessarily while subtly lowering the strength of the vibration, taking a bit of pity on you despite the way she enjoys your clenching walls around her fingers.

“Mm.”

“Use your words!” she threatens while bringing the vibration up and you let out a surprised squeak.

“Yes, Mommy! I’ve had enough!”

“Good girl.” 

The vibration declines steadily as the red mist fades, but the aftershocks are very much present even as Wanda calmly pulls out of you. Her fingers slide into your mouth and you clean them with as little effort as possible, not even flinching when she pulls you further onto the damp spot underneath you on the couch.

“What will you do next time you want to touch?”

“Ask Mommy,” you reply drowsily, feeling pleased when she places a hand on either side of your jaw and kisses your forehead. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome, angel. Come on, you know what we have to do.”

Wanda rises to her feet first and attempts to bring you up with her, although it takes much more effort than either of you expected. Soft laughter is passed between you until you finally complete the task, and she leads you over to the downstairs bathroom before carefully lowering you onto the toilet. When you open your eyes again, she’s in front of you with a cup of water, gently coaxing you to drink.

Once you’re cleaned up, tucked into bed with your favorite sleep show playing quietly and passed out, Wanda makes her way back to the living room. She cleans up the couch and straightens a few more things before locking up her home and heading over to her closest neighbor.

“Hello again, Agnes,” Wanda greets her glassy-eyed companion with a knowing smile. “I’m going to need your help with something.”

[wolfsrainrules]

So I know you talked about Tsuna and his guardians in Soul Society, but what about the other way around? How would Ichigo interact with Vongola and who would his guardians be?

(I kind of like the idea of Dying Will Flames 'burning' reishi. Using it as a fuel source like wood in a fire. Which means Hollows don't often bother Flame Actives since they tend to register as nulls due to all their spiritual power being used up)

Hmmmmmm............This is fun thought. Honestly I feel like Ichigo would just SENSE a child in need of a big brother in Bullshit Shonen Protag Messes all on his own and somehow manifest from the shadows to take Tsuna under his wing tbh.

A baby Sky with wonky Flames due to a seal would just BLARE OUT into the universe and Ichigo would KNOW the second he got near Namimori. I do love the idea of DWF burning reishi. Also love Hollows avoiding it because the "null" feeling is also followed by rumors of them EATING hollows despite being human. (I imagine a null is a giant sign for hollows and others, because everyone should have SOME reishi but they just...appear to not. Now....Ichigo's Elements....Hm. Sky is of course, as we know, Ichigo. Storm: Grimmjow just feels right to me. Hes attached now. Sun: Nel my beloved. Lightning: Chad. He's such a protective little shit all around. Rain: Starrk I think. Mist: Kisuke. I feel it in my soul Cloud: Yoruichi. She didn't mean to okay.

Tsuna and his elements are about to get SO trained up. SOSO trained up. Ichigo isn't going to let him go in blind and weak. He recognizes a protector's soul in Tsuna and he knows exactly what will happen the moment Tsuna has to step up for his people.

He just...needs the right kind of handling.

Then he finds out about the seal and OH is he not pleased about THAT at all. Good thing he still has Kisuke's cane and can push a soul out of a body. Once the chains that are wrapped around his soul are visible its not HARD to get rid of them. Speeds some things up. Also actually kind of pisses Ichigo off very much, how Tsuna was handled and how the training was being handled. Yeah no. This is HIS kid now, fuck off.

Vongola isn't going to know what hit it at all