#But this was really so fun so I might talk about him more in the future | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewintersoldierdisaster · 16 hours ago

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a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

#william nylander #william nylander x reader #william nylander x you #william nylander fic #nhl fic

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maiiuelle · 2 days ago

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what if rafe was one of the readers managers and she was a pop star of some sort? i feel like we'd end up seeing a documentary about that because he's making under the table deals to get her more publicity, but also setting her up for drama to make both of them more popular !! he def also gives her something to keep her going through exhaustion and that's a whole 'nother thing !!

whew that was a lot! also hi!! i'm back from the dead!

- 🪻

OMGG HEY!!

okay walk with me here, you start dating rafe already chasing your dream of becoming a pop star. you’ve run into nothing but useless managers and dead ends, so you moved back home to the outer banks and picked up bartending.

you tell rafe all of this, just casual new relationship small talk — but he gets hooked on it. “y’know, i have crazy connections — like, through my dad and shit — so, if you’re serious about it, i mean.. i could prolly help you out.”

you don’t stop to consider he might be in it for the money, at first not convinced yourself you’ll make anything after your past failed attempts at stardom. but, rafe pulls through. you start booking small gigs on the island, singing at weddings and small venues until your name really starts getting out there.

of course, it’s not all thanks to your talent, though he lets you think it is. he could never tell you that your career is nothing more than a very elaborate front for his own business, he’d rather let you have your fun while he makes millions.

fame puts a strain on your relationship with rafe, surely, especially with him being your manager. you’d expect a little comfort from your boyfriend, but you come to him exhausted before a show, and he couldn’t seem more inconvenienced.

your glittery outfit scrapes over rafe’s pressed suit when you fall into his arms. “princess, seriously? what — what, what is it? hm?” he pulls you back up on your feet, tapping your cheek in irritation.

“i can’t do this.” you suck in a shaky breath, clutching your chest trying to breathe away a sob. he sighs frustratedly from his nose, pressing his lips together in disappointment. “rafe, i can’t—”

he puts his arm around your shoulders, looking around the room as he digs his other hand into his pocket. it sounds like there’s a plastic bag inside, and his thick fingers come out coated in white powder. he turns you a little, holding you up when you trip over your heels. “shh, shh, you’re good.”

rafe pushes his fingers under your lip, rubbing them over your gums for a second. you squirm at the feeling, but he holds you still. when he stops, you smack your lips, looking up at him in dazed confusion.

he smiles, finally looking proud as he kisses your sweaty forehead. “see, there you go, baby. you’re perfect. get moving, you’re on in 5.”

#thanks for the message! ♡‧₊˚.#🪻 anon #we are so back #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #tw drugs

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flowersdiceandlove · 12 hours ago

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Please tell me about your Eminence in Shadow!SY AU, that sounds really interesting and badass

Okay, so, in case you don’t know “Eminence in Shadow” is a reincarnation, isekai anime where a guy named Cid Kageno ends up in a world with magic. He likes playing as “Background Character A” by day and being “The Eminence in Shadow” by night. I was watching this anime and while I was watching, I felt like Cid and Shen Yuan were a lot alike. (I’ve only watched the anime which only has two seasons, so anything beyond that in the manga I have no idea about)

Now, onto the idea (I og had this written out as a prompt and then thought, huh, this might actually be fun to write, so just…didn’t post the prompt. I think I’ll come back later and post an actual prompt for this though. But, I'm literally just copy/pasting what I already wrote for this.)

Imagine, Shen Yuan transmigrates into Background Character A in PIDW, and, just like Cid, throws himself into the role. He just wants to get through the plot without drawing attention to himself so he can avoid Bingge's ire. But! But! This is Shen Yuan who has always dreamed of transmigrating into this type of story. How can he just pass up the chance of becoming a cool cultivator??? He can't, that's how! So then, how does one remain Background Character A while also being a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator? By acting out his role as Background Character A during the day and growing his power to become a cool cultivator in secret! That's how!

He'll spend his days idling and playing his role as Just Some Guy to perfection, but in secret, he'll hone his cultivator abilities, slay monsters, study demonic beasts, and live out his cultivator fantasy! He transmigrates early, maybe as a baby, and uses all his knowledge of reading PIDW and other cultivation stories to work out how to cultivate in secret. He won't interfere with the plot, making sure he blends into the background so as not to draw attention to himself, and will be able to survive the merging of the realms with his cultivation abilities when that time eventually comes.

But, of course, this is Shen Yuan we're talking about. He stumbles his way into trouble and wifebeams people. He plays up his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act like Shadow/Cid does and ends up amassing his own Shadow Garden (harem of highly trained women dedicated to Shadow and his cause, for those of you who haven't seen Eminence in Shadow) but the gay xianxia version. We're gonna get Zhuzhi-Lang, Liu Qingge, ect. But, just like Shadow/Cid, Shen Yuan does not realize he has amassed this massive harem who would literally do anything for him and have created an entire clandestine organization (that's really more of an empire) with him as the head. He thinks they're all just Really Good Friends who are helping him live out his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator dreams.

Just like Shadow/Cid bullshits the Cult of Diablo, Shen Yuan is gonna bullshit his own stuff. And, just like with Shadow/Cid's stuff, Shen Yuan's words are gonna turn out to be true. I'm thinking he ends up uncovering all the corruption and drama surrounding the Old Palace Master and Huan Hua Palace. It'll probably end up being a whole big thing and once they start digging, they just find more and more sects, companies, people, etc. involved in this. Part of the corruption and wrong-doings they find, is a lot of provoking of demons. Shen Yuan, of course, knows none of this, and always ends up on the outskirts of the investigations bullshitting some Wise Nonsense that has everyone in awe before kicking the Bad Guy's butt, not knowing what's Really Going On.

He remains oblivious to all the Drama going on and what he's leaving in his wake. One thing he is absolutely certain he must do is Keep A Low Profile and remain Background Character A, so all his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator adventures are done in secret and he makes sure that his version of Shadow Garden knows that This Is SECRET!! Do Not Tell. shhhh.

Just like in Eminence in Shadow, Shen Yuan's harem (that he still doesn't know is his harem) venture out on their own to gather more people to add to the harem join their cause.

Shen Yuan had to have met Liu Qingge before he entered CQMS. Maybe Shen Yuan's Background Family is from the same village/city the Liu Family is from and so they grew up in the same social circle. When Liu Qingge eventually goes to join CQMS Shen Yuan sighs and thinks What a good guy, playing with me all this time. Now he's off to be a Great Cultivator himself. I hope we can still see each other again sometime. Not at all knowing that Liu Qingge has the BIGGEST crush on him and once in CQMS is trying to recruit more people to join Shen Yuan's harem organization. He probably convinces at least half of the future Qing generation in time as well as many disciples from various peaks. It helps when on a couple night-hunts Shen Yuan, in Mysterious And Cool Cultivator mode, showed up out of nowhere and solved the problem like a Wise Immortal and effectively wifebeaming all present.

For Zhuzhi-Lang, Shen Yuan definitely found him hurt and cooed over him, nursing him back to health. Eventually Zhuzhi-Lang had to return to the Demon Realm and Tianlang-jun, but tells Tianlang-jun about the Nice Human Cultivator who took care of him. Tianlang-jun clocks Zhuzhi-Lang's crush immediately, and tells him that he can go woo his human all he wants as long as it doesn't interfere with work, and also, he would like to meet this human.

Shen Yuan nearly has a heart attack when the DEMON EMPEROR (and Luo Binghe's father!! Ahhh!) shows up at his house to invite him to a picnic (thankfully no one else saw this so his cover as Background Character A is still in check). He doesn't turn him down though, that would be stupid, Tianlang-jun could kill him in a heartbeat if he offended him. So, he goes on the picnic. Tianlang-jun thanks him for taking such good care of his nephew, and Zhuzhi-Lang is a blushing mess the entire time. Tianlang-jun as being Tianlang-jun keeps trying to set Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-lang up. Shen Yuan laughs it off. Clearly Tianlang-jun is quite the jokester and eternally flamboyant (and you know how Tianlang-jun is), and thinks all his suggestive comments are just his weird sense of humor. Tianglang-jun is most definitely trying to get both Zhuzhi-Lang and himself into Shen Yuan's pants. Shen Yuan is, of course, oblivious to this.

After the picnic Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang leave but have secured invitation from Shen Yuan to return as they please so long as they keep it hush hush. Zhuzhi-Lang will actually visit a lot and spend a lot of time in tiny snake form curled up around Shen Yuan's arm under his sleeve or in his robes. Shen Yuan idly pets and strokes him, feeling the cool texture of his scales without thinking about it. When he does realize, Zhuzhi-Lang tells him that it's fine and he can keep petting him as much as he wants. Sometimes people will see Shen Yuan, Background Character A, with a green snake on his arm, or in his robes, or draped across his shoulders, but never really think too much about it, thinking he just has a normal pet snake.

Since this initial meeting, there are a lot more snakes around the Shen Estate, and Shen Yuan's parents tell him to get it under control, thinking that his pet snake is attracting them. Shen Yuan apologizes and says he will. Zhuzhi-Lang then tells his snake underlings to hide better. They were there to make sure Shen Yuan was safe, not get him in trouble.

When Zhuzhi-Lang is back in the Demon Realm he talks about Shen Yuan. He also knows about the Mysterious And Cool Cultivator thing and is also trying to recruit demons to his harem cause. Tianlang-jun knows about this and is fine with it. He's long decided that he's gonna get Shen Yuan into his bed family service and so him having his own underlings and support of demons would only make it easier to do so down the road.

Despite Shen Yuan's meddling, the Tianlang-Jun and Su Xiyan thing still happens and the Old Palace Master stuff leading to Tianlang-jun being sealed. Even with Shen Yuan and his harem friends taking down branches of corruption, they weren't able to take down the Old Palace Master (not yet at least). So, that whole Fiasco happens. Shen Yuan feels guilty about it. Tianlang-jun and Zhuzhi-Lang had become his friends and he knew what was coming. He was confused though because Tianlang-jun did not seem like he was trying to take over the Human Realm and that was why he was sealed. Maybe the System finally decided to pop in and say he couldn't interfere in it, and that some things just had to happen for plot reasons (like with the Endless Abyss). Or, Maybe Shen Yuan didn't see it coming, thinking that he had somehow influenced Tianlang-jun to not want to invade the Human Realm, not knowing that it had always been a lie and set up, the truth never being revealed in PIDW.

Zhuzhi-Lang flees to Shen Yuan, hurt from the attack, and, of course, Shen Yuan accepts him even in his half snake, half humanoid form. It took him a moment, but then he recognized it was Zhuzhi-Lang by his eyes and tended his wounds (again). Zhuzhi-Lang tells him the story of what he and Tianlang-jun believe to be true. By the time he's well enough to do that though, Shen Yuan isn't able to do anything about Su Xiyan's situation. She's already long vanished. Shen Yuan also decides that once Bailu Forest isn't under such careful observation after Tianlang-Jun's sealing, he'll go see the man with Zhuzhi-Lang to see what his state is. Despite it all and Tianlang-jun's...unique personality, Shen Yuan still considers him a friend and wants to help where he can.

It, unfortunately, takes a while for things to cool down around Bailu Mountain and then again to find a way to Tianlang-jun's prison without setting off any alarms. By the time Shen Yuan finally sees Tianlang-jun again, years have passed. He's alive, but not in a great state what with being crushed under a mountain and all. Shen Yuan is in awe of the resilience of Heavenly Demons. When Tianlang-jun sees Shen Yuan he's like "ah, if it's the only human who hasn't betrayed me. What brings you to this place?" all casually. Shen Yuan actually brought him some trashy books and food that he knew Tianlang-jun would like and Tianlang-jun is overjoyed by it. You wouldn't even think he was being squished under a mountain with how happy he was.

Shen Yuan works with Zhuzhi-Lang to figure out how to get Tianlang-jun out, but only after he makes Tianlang-jun promise not to slaughter everyone (probably saying some Wise Nonsense, but is really just trying to get Tianlang-jun to not obliterate humanity). Tianlang-jun pouts, but does. Shen Yuan appeases him by getting him more trashy books and human paraphernalia. During this time, Shen Yuan mentions (intentionally) that he heard rumors that Su Xiyan may be pregnant—Shen Yuan doesn’t think Tianlang-jun’s as interested as he should be in this development; this is Luo Binghe after all—and also that he thinks there’s more to this than they originally thought. Tianlang-jun’s attention is then fully shifted from killing all humans except Shen Yuan, to figuring out what’s going on because hm, you’re right, A-Yuan, this doesn’t make much sense.

With Shen Yuan also working on how to get Tianlang-jun out, Zhuzhi-Lang is able to go back to the Demon Realm to keep things in order. At least to an extent. They keep the fact that they’re trying to free Tianlang-jun a secret bc you never know where there are eyes and ears. Shen Yuan helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep his more humanoid appearance since Tianlang-jun isn’t able to, so that helps Zhuzhi-Lang keep the demons under control, but doesn’t help a whole lot. Things still kinda fall apart there. Shen Yuan’s harem organization is still holding up there and work in secret despite the shakiness in the Demon Realm and the demons in it even use the political uncertainty to their advantage to gain more power.

Maybe Shen Yuan figures out how to make the Sun and Moon Dew Mushroom compatible with demonic qi or maybe he finds another solution. But, either way, he gets Tianlang-jun’s soul out from under the mountain. There is just one caveat of this new body. It must grow from infanthood again at a normal rate. They grow the body, and then Tianlang-jun’s soul pops over to it when it’s a baby, freeing him from his prison. Since the Demon Realm has grown unstable and Tianlang-jun is in a vulnerable state, they decide that the best and safest course of action is for Shen Yuan to keep Tianlang-jun in his care. So, Shen Yuan returns home with baby Tianlang-jun claiming the baby’s his. What better place to hide than in Background Family A, after all? Shen Yuan’s been doing it for decades at this point and thinks it’s the perfect way of living. Thankfully, Tianlang-jun, despite being a baby, does still know how to control his demonic qi, and is able to hide it, making himself appear like a normal human baby.

When the rest of Shen Yuan’s harem Friends find out about “his baby” they’re all seething in jealousy wondering who the mother is. (gender neutral use of the term “mother” here. That harem is definitely trying to figure out how to have Shen Yuan’s baby or get Shen Yuan to have their baby) They also start seething in jealousy over the baby itself bc Shen Yuan is doting on him to the max. He’s holding and rocking him, soothing him, patting him, feeding him, cooing over him, ect. Shen Yuan just can’t get over how cute baby Tianlang-jun is, and is wondering what baby Bingge looked like. (By this point, Binghe’s already entered CQMS)

Every time Liu Qingge leaves the sect to go on a night-hunt, he always stops by the Shen Estate to see Shen Yuan and drop off some monster head/part for him. Shen Yuan always greets him with a smile and thanks him, but asks if dropping the bloody carcass in the entry hall was really necessary. Who’s gonna clean this all up, Liu-didi, hm? Be nicer to the servants! Don’t make unnecessary work for them! The first time Liu Qingge sees the baby, he’s doing this. Shen Yuan comes out to meet him with the baby in his arms, and the sight of Shen Yuan holding a baby, smiling at him, and welcoming him back makes his brain blank for a long moment.

Shen Yuan either is super vague about the baby!Tianlang-jun’s mom or has a super detailed background story ready to go. It’s a bit of a minor scandal in the way that all bastards are, but Background Family Father A is happy to get a grandson from Shen Yuan.

As baby!Tianlang-jun grows up, he gets super smug about having Shen Yuan as his dad and attention. He’s good at playing his role as a little kid around others, but then in private just acts like his usual self, lounging around like the emperor he is, reading scandalous smut, and saying all his suggestive and lucious things. When the members of Shen Yuan’s harem Shen Yuan’s friends show up, he always plays up the act and gets Shen Yuan to let him sit in his lap, pet his hair, snuggle against his side, or something. Shen Yuan’s harem friends swear that the kid knows what he’s doing, but can only chug vinegar in silence bc it’s Shen Yuan’s son. Tianlang-jun is loving having Shen Yuan as his dad, being the only one to call him “daddy” or “baba” or “a-die” or such and has Shen Yuan curled around his finger with his cuteness. (He’s long stopped trying to get into Shen Yuan’s pants and is much happier being his adoptive son. He is still trying to set up Shen Yuan and Zhuzhi-Lang though.)

Because of Shen Yuan’s interference, Liu Qingge either doesn’t have that deadly qi deviation, or is stable enough that when Shen Qingqiu tries to help him with it, is actually able to help. So, Liu Qingge lives.

When Luo Bingge is finally out of the Endless Abyss and is working his way through conquering the Demon Realm, he starts to slowly find out about this vast and secret organization that’s in control of so much. Digging deeper, he’s able to uncover that it spans into the Human Realm and includes some well respected and high class cultivators too. Luo Bingge tries to wriggle out who the leader is, but everyone is so tightlipped and elusive that he’s actually having trouble finding info out. It drives him mad. Xin Mo is also capitalizing on this obsession. Luo Bingge can’t be the indisputable Emperor of all if there’s some shadow organization pulling the strings behind the scenes. Shen Yuan, however, is blissfully unaware that he’s caught the attention of Luo Bingge, still thinking he’s successfully flown under the radar, and tells his harem Friends to avoid getting on Luo Binghe’s bad side and to help him however they can, hoping that this will get those that would have died as canon fodder in Bingge’s rise to greatness to be able to survive it. This just drives Luo Bingge even more up the wall bc he doesn’t know why this secret organization is deciding to back him in everything and so he doesn’t know their motives and so he can’t use those motives to his advantage and so he doesn’t have absolute control!

When he does finally get a member of the harem organization to talk to him, they just say “Our master is wise. He sees potential in you. Do not squander our master’s good will.” because when they asked why Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan said something like “I believe he’s destined for greatness. I want to see the world he creates.” or “He has great promise. I want to see what he does.” all sage like while internally panicking, hoping that that was vague enough so they don’t continue to ask why he wants to help this random demon that he’s never met. This answer does not help to assuage Bingge’s unease at this secret organization and their secret leader, and only makes it worse bc how does this man know Luo Binghe well enough to know his POTENTIAL!?!?! But he can’t ask the person more bc they vanished from their cell after Luo Bingge was called away on urgent business. And, they also somehow have a way to counteract his blood parasites. Bingge is seriously losing it over this. (He doesn’t know about Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun, and I’m sure they both know a lot more about Heavenly Demon abilities and how to counteract them than Bingge does)

Shen Yuan and his harem friends end up leading Bingge through the Demon and Human Realms with mind games and wild goose chases, every adventure leading to Bingge gaining more power. Shen Yuan eventually learns that he’s caught Bingge’s eye and hopes that this all will show that Shen Yuan is a friend and not a foe. See! He’s helping you gain power, Bingge!! We’re not enemies!!

Luo Bingge is not put at ease by this and every encounter with the harem organization is just leaving him more frazzled. Eventually Shen Yuan and Luo Bingge meet on one of these crazy adventures when Shen Yuan had to get involved, Shen Yuan in his Mysterious And Cool Cultivator act, and disguised so that even a Heavenly Demon and the protagonist won’t be able to recognize him. (Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-jun helped him test his disguise out) Shen Yuan spouts more of his Wise Nonsense at Luo Binghe to make Luo Binghe see that they’re on Bingge’s side before vanishing without a trace. After every time, Luo Bingge screams and levels some stuff in frustration. He still doesn’t know what these people are after! How are they so elusive!?

Because of all this, Luo Binghe’s plans to infiltrate Huan Hua Palace and destroy Cang Qiong Mountain Sect are put on hold. He doesn’t know exactly how far this secret organization's power reaches, but he can’t go in blind with such a big power behind the scenes. He does know that the secret organization has reaches in CQMS, but doesn’t know how deep (Liu Qingge’s been hard at work there and all of Bai Zhan is under Shen Yuan’s command along with over half of the other peaks. Shang Qinghua is freaking out because he didn’t write this!!! Who the fuck is that guy!?!? Why is he rivaling Bingge!?!?! And, WHY IS HE WINNING!?!?!? Bingge’s supposed to reign supreme, not some rando he never even wrote! He’s wondering if he maybe wrote out this idea while high as fuck and delusional with sleep depravation which is why he doesn’t remember it, but he knows he wouldn’t do that even at his most addled bc Bingge is supposed to be unrivaled. That’s why he scrapped the Tianlang-jun vs Bingge idea.)

Bingge gets so caught up in paranoia over this secret organization and not knowing whose a part of it and who's not and what they really want that he’s not negating Xin Mo with dual cultivation bc are the women part of the organization? Are they in on it? What do they want? What do they gain by sleeping with me? So his control is slipping.

It’s also during this time that the harem organization start getting closer to Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master. Their progress is helped when Shen Yuan, during a friendly get together with one of the high ranking members of his harem organization his Friends, he accidentally slips that he’s wondering the validity of the Old Palace Master’s claims of Tianlang-jun wanting to invade the Human Realm and the story of what’s really going on there. The harem organization takes his words as Shen Yuan telling them to look into this matter, so they set their sights fully on Huan Hua Palace and the Old Palace Master.

Not long later, they uncover the Truth, and clear Tianlang-jun’s name, dragging the Old Palace Master’s through the mud. Tianlang-jun, hearing about this, swoops in and kills a whole bunch of Huan Hua Palace high ranking members and the Old Palace Master along with a bunch of other powerful people involved in the cover up and mess. The organization, at seeing the gruesome slaughter, are at first horrified bc who has this kind of power to slip past the organization's defenses and do this? But, then someone spots Tianlang-jun slipping away, recognizes him as Shen Yuan’s son, and concludes that Shen Yuan was the one to do this. Later, at another friendly get together with Shen Yuan, one of them vaguely mentions the slaughter, subtly asking if Shen Yuan knew of it and even more subtly inquiring if he was the one to do it. Shen Yuan, knowing that Tianlang-jun was the one to do it and just got finished burning the bloody robes Tianlang-jun had come back in after reprimanding him to be more careful what if someone saw you???, doesn’t pick up on this at all and is instead trying to divert attention away from them, says something vague back which only confirms in the organizations mind that Shen Yuan was the one who did it. With their firm belief that Shen Yuan knows what’s best, even if they initially thought the execution was horrific, they believe that they had deserved it if Shen Yuan would resort to such tactics.

The organization sweeps in and helps clean the mess up, CQMS and other sects and businesses affiliated with Shen Yuan and the organization distribute Huan Hua Palace’s wealth and territory, gaining more influence. Luo Binghe hears about all this, and poking around some more, finds that the organization was behind this. The fact that this clandestine organization was able to take down such a well established and reputable sect like Huan Hua Palace only sets him more on edge about them. If they can do that, they could also dethrone him too, couldn’t they?? Just because they haven't outright opposed him yet doesn’t mean they won’t. He cannot trust such a powerful organization.

Eventually, Bingge tracks down Shen Yuan and, in a great show like in Hua Yue City, Shen Yuan has to pull the “self-destruct for you” card to stop Bingge’s qi deviation while saying more Wise And Meaningful Nonsense that has Bingge realizing that this guy was really on his side. This entire time, this guy has had unwavering faith in him and his abilities. This entire time, he’s had his whole organization working to help him in any way possible simply because of that. That this entire time, his only motive was to see what Bingge would become, see the world he creates, and for him to be happy. And now he can’t even do that. Because he’s dead. For Luo Binghe’s sake!!

And, Binghe…

Binghe just can’t take it. He hasn’t had someone so staunchly on his side since his mother died when he was little. He starts bawling. He can’t help it. He hasn’t cried in so long, and he just can’t stop the tears. They just keep coming, a heartbreaking wail from his mouth, while he hugs the dead body to his chest.

Other members of Shen Yuan’s harem organization that watched the whole thing stay standing around this scene, some tears falling from their eyes too, not able to believe that Shen Yuan is really dead. Liu Qingge, and others, are getting ready to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Yuan’s body, but before more fighting can break out, Tianlang-jun struts in with Zhuzhi-Lang following meekly behind him. The harem organization members that don’t know about the truth are shocked and scared bc they were supposed to get Shen Yuan’s son away from this chaos and protect him from Luo Binghe. But, Tianlang-jun (whose like a teenager or something by this point) just ignores everyone’s shouts and deftly evades their protective grabs for him, waking straight up to the still bawling Binghe.

See, Tianlang-jun is not nearly as oblivious as Shen Yuan is—he’s the exact opposite really—so he clocked Luo Binghe starting to fall for Shen Yuan a while ago, captivated by the challenge and mind games that Shen Yuan was playing with him, and is staunchly knowing that Luo Binghe won’t attack them again.

“Luo Binghe, do not fear,” he starts seriously, then breaks out in a massive grin and gives him a thumbs up, “we have contingency plans in case of death! Many of them!” Because of course they do. They’ve long secured the Sun And Moon Dew Mushroom Seeds and started growing them to Shen Yuan’s body. Tianlang-jun also still has access to the Holy Mausoleum and the Resurrection Chamber. And, with both Shen Yuan’s PIDW knowledge and Tianlang-jun’s and with his resources, they have a vast variety of back up bodies and plans for many different circumstances. It is also revealed that this is Tianlang-jun and literally no one is surprised by this development. Of course Shen Yuan’s son is the last Demon Emperor who’s supposed to be sealed under a mountain. It also made some of them “understand” why Shen Yuan had been so ruthless in his execution of the Old Palace Master and others since they now knew he had a personal interest in the matter.

When Shen Yuan wakes up, he’s immediately tackled by a sobbing Luo Binghe who places a big, fat, wet kiss on his mouth. He tries to reel back, but Luo Binghe has him in a death grip, so he can only stare wide-eyed at Luo Binghe until he pulls back to keep sobbing against his chest. Those of the harem organization that were there were furious at this bc barely any of them have kissed Shen Yuan and they’ve been in his harem service longer!! And, instead of shoving Luo Binghe away, Shen Yuan hugs him closer and pats his head, trying to calm him down, whispering that “No, Binghe, I won’t go anywhere. Yes, I can stay with you. Please don’t apologize, Binghe, this isn’t your fault. I should have done better to make you see I was on your side. You’ve done nothing wrong.” and so on.

After this, Shen Yuan is no longer able to maintain his cover as Background Character A, but that’s okay because he only kept it so he wouldn’t get taken out as Bingge’s rival or something. Since Binghe is on his side, he can live his whole life as a Mysterious And Cool Cultivator, living out his transmigration dreams unhindered! But, Binghe, what do you mean you’re making me Empress of the Demon Realm? I’m a man! I can’t be your Empress! Pick a pretty girl for that if you want one! Tianlang-jun, why are you laughing!? Why are you supporting this!?

Binghe convinces Shen Yuan to marry him by presenting it as a political marriage since Shen Yuan is in control of so much, and if he wants Luo Binghe to be the Emperor of it all (which he knows Shen Yuan wants) then they really need to be married and Shen Yuan made Empress for his reign to be undisputed. Shen Yuan eventually figures it out, and by that point he’s also figuring out that he actually has feelings for a lot of his “friends.” Well, it’s a good thing they all want to marry him too.

There are a long line of weddings after this as so many of Shen Yuan’s friends harem demand to be formally married. Binghe fights for position of First Husband. And wins. Because of course he does.

Luo Binghe has pretty much lost interest in his own harem (which was still pretty small and shrinking when he decided to kick women out for fear they were part of the organization), and becomes nonexistent after his marriage to Shen Yuan. It’s not a problem though, because Tianlang-jun, Shen Yuan, and Shang Qinghua pull resources and knowledge to nullify Xin Mo’s effect on him, so his harem is obsolete anyway.

—Later, once things are settled, probably:

SQH: bro, wtf? You haremed my harem novel.

SY: 🤷

I just feel like Shen Yuan and Cid are so similar. They both curate their role in their new transmigration life, bullshit through so much by spouting wise nonsense, and making people fall for them left and right while being totally oblivious. Shen Yuan just gives Cid levels of oblivious vibes.

I’m not super feeling my svsss fics right now, so I don’t think I’m gonna write on them and just close the tabs for now. Idk. I’ll prbly come back to this later at some point, but 🤷‍♀�� Hoped you enjoyed this 😊

If anyone has any ideas for what to call sy's version of Shadow Garden, let me know. I was feeling stuck on that part, but like I said, I don't know when I'll come back to this.

#scum villain self saving system #svsss #shen yuan #liu qingge #luo binghe #tianlang jun #zhuzhi lang #the eminence in shadow #svsss au #my wips #my writing #my fanfiction #ask game #wip ask game

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 7 hours ago

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@zepskies

I'm not kidding this might be my favorite gif ever lol. BUT I am so excited to read the last chapter of this series!! I mean, I'm sad that it's coming to a close, but I'm hoping that in the future there might be a fic with a little Elijah (or a little Jude) running around. 😏

I love the little details about him and Benny pranking each other, but it really just made me sad because Dean left them 😭 But at the same time they are opening up with one another and sharing their life stories and I couldn't be happier.

“I will protect you,” she says. Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

Again I stan a strong woman and Mila is just so stinking badass that I love her so much. Also yes girl, PROTECT 👏🏻 YOUR👏🏻 MAN👏🏻

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be. He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

Love that you're referencing the honorable choice title here, and showing that Dean is a man of honor and that he did make a choice that maybe messed up his life, but he cared more about doing the right thing. And I think you did a great job of titling the series and the chapters in general. Each one corresponds beautifully to the themes in the chapters so you should be proud!

It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.

I know that something dramatic is about to happen and that I shouldn't be thinking about this right now, but I just love height difference so much😭. When a guy is bigger than his girl oh wow it sends me to the moon. I think it's so cute and goodness the cuddles must be so fun.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

Again, devastating moment, but... SHE SAID HIS NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME! And the running her fingers through his hair?!?!?!?!

Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble.

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly. Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown. “Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says. Her brows raise. “No?” “Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man."

I'm cackling. I love Mila so much. The sass, the teasing. Oh goodness they're so cute and I am so scared that there's going to be a last minute perilous situation and somebody is gonna die.

“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.

Excuse me sir? SIR?! You know... he's right Mila. You should listen to your future husband.

Also him respecting her when she said that she doesn't have sex before marriage is just so HONORABLE AND WORTHY and why can't there be men that respectful all the time? Dean Winchester is really just ruining other men for me everywhere. 😭

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize… Her heart has already chosen.

Girl it's chosen correctly. No remorse. No regret. Please oh my word let them both live at the end of this fic. 🙏🏻

He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.

So... the face squishing is a family trait I see. But man, Dean standing there while a random lady just squishing his face while his eyes are wide in horror is so funny to me.

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

AWW YEAH IT WAS GOING THAT WAY! lol

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?” Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others. It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life. “No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

This bit is so good. It's so true and honest and a little heart breaking, but it's such a wonderful thing for them to talk about, because Mila knows that he's thrown away his life to save hers. And it's so wonderful that he's able to give her that confirmation and reassurance that he doesn't regret the choice he made. Because it was the right choice, the -AHEM- Honorable Choice lol 😂

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection. “All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.”

Oh this chapter was so good my sweet friend! I'm a little sad to see that it's ending, but it was so wonderfully written and neither of them died. I was really scared about that 😅. AND it ended with a wedding (sort of?). Now little Elijah can run around the camp helping his mother and learn how to break in horses with his father. ❤️

The Honorable Choice - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...

Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

**Pronunciation guide at the end!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 3: Worthy

They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.

He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.

“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”

Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life.

He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.

Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.

Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.

The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.

On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.

“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”

Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.

In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.

He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it.

“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”

Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.

The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.

That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.

Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.

Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.

“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.

She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.

Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.

Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.

A waterfall.

Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.

She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.

This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.

A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.

He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.

She smiles in relief.

He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.

The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.

He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.

Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.

“Mornin’,” he croaks.

Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.

“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”

“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.

Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.

She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.

Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.

Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.

“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.

Her brows raise. “No?”

“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”

“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”

Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.

It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.

Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.

She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.

He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.

She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.

“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.

“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.

“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”

Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.

“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”

“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Really, I understand,” he says.

His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.

This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.

Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?

Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.

It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.

“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”

With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.

That night, Mila dreams.

She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky.

When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.

And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.

She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…

Her heart has already chosen.

“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.

He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.

Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.

“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.

Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.

“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”

She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.

She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.

“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.

“You would take it that far?” he asks.

Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”

Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.

“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.

“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”

Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.

“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.

“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."

Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.

“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.

“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.

Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”

Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean.

She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.

She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.

Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.

She smiles more genuinely.

“Come,” she says.

She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.

Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance.

“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.

She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”

Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?

She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs.

Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.

Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”

Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.

“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.

“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”

Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.

“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.

“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”

“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”

She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.

“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.

“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.

Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”

He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”

Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.

It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life.

“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.

When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.

“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.

“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.

“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.

Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.

“Show me,” he says.

She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.

Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.

He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”

He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.

His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”

Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.

Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.

“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”

Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”

He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.

“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.”

Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”

She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.

He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.

“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.

Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.

He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.

He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.

Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.

Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.

She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.

The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.

Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.

He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.

Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.

Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.

“I could get used to this,” he says.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”

Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.

Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.

“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.

He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.

“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.

Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.

“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.

Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”

Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.

“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.

A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.

“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.

Dean smiles back.

“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”

AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.

Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter!

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")

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Series Tag List + Dean W. (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19

@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28

@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka

@chevroletdean @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice

@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers

@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly @artemys-ackles

@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean

@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@aylacavebear @liopleurodean @brujaporfavor @xiphoidbones @xsophianicolex

@jays-bonnie-on-the-side @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @ghostslillady

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nenynrawrites · 2 days ago

Text

Def Leppard members as your boyfriend

Joe:

There's so much yet so little I know about him as a boyfriend / partner

But I know he'd be very doting

Like, as soon as you tell about anything that you're hyperfixating on, he will learn everything about it

Loves fangirl Fridays, where the both of you watch a bunch of interviews (old & new) on YouTube, or back then, on VHS, 'cause you always recorded at least one or two

He's fangirling about Ian Hunter obviously (it's so funny to me, but all hail the fangirls and fanboys♡)

One time you were hyperfixating on Sav, and therefor your attention was put a little bit more towards him

Poor Joe got a bit jealous, 'cause it was his best friend, but eh, he wasn't better, and it was harmless, so it's good, right?;3

Listens to you like there was nothing else going on

HUGS, HUGS, HUGS

Hugs from behind, quick side hug, hugs during cuddling...All the hugs!!💕🫂

Kisses range from every possible kind there is

Loves deep and long kisses, the ones where you basically lose your breath

You're kind of his personal heater / cooler when you're cuddling

Clings like a koala to you

Furthermore, very loyal and loves to have you on tour, but not too long, so that you won't get sick of it:)

Loves to call you ,,love" or ,,babe", or any other nickname you like, like childhood nicknames:)

Sav:

He always looks so slightly confused to me, omg-

Like, it took him so long to realize, that you two were a couple

It were two weeks, but it still felt like an eternity, like forever

Definitely teaches you bass (you gotta know where the rhythm comes from;3)

Will introduce you to the big and wide world of fashion

Will get you a custom suit (or dress...Or both):>

Breakfast in bed whenever he can:3

Cuddles EVERY night, even on call (no matter analog or digital)

Loves deep conversations about anything

Rick:

He is such a sweetheart

Won't stop looking at you when you two hang out

Like...He's so enamored, his eyes literally formed to hearts♡

ATTENTIVE!!!

Loves driving out somewhere:]

Asks everybody what he should get you for special occasions, despite knowing you in and out🤭

Loves telling you about the random stuff he saw on walks

I wanna squish his cheeks:3

Phil:

Active boy

Be prepared to always go anywhere with a bike if possible

He probably tries to swim so so far

But! If you wanna have a lazy day a few days in a row, he's not opposed to that

From reading his book, Phil is a deeper thinker than you might imagine, so lots of talking about his philosophy of life and how the world works. He genuinely believes you are soulmates. He cooks you vegan food, and takes you to the gym, whether you want to or not! Very keen on, ahem, bedroom activities, and probably pretty good at it after all that practice lol <- @steveinscarlet

(Somebody help me, I don't know what to add-)

Steve:

Do I have to say it?

I'll just say it again

BIGGEST👏SWEETHEART👏EVER❤️

Like, he's so fun to be around, talk to etc. etc...

Kisses all the time

Late night talks until dawn

Love making? Yes sir:)

The softest hugs known to mankind

Steve is super-shy, so you probably had to make the first move, or be so painfully obvious that even he couldn't fail to notice that you like him. Talks to you in funny voices and probably has a silly pet name for you which makes the other guys make vomiting noises when they hear him use it. He alternates between being really loved up and soppy, and needing reassurance that you really do love him. Buys you classy presents like jewellery and fancy perfume. You steal each other's clothes and eat from each other's plates. He tells you you're beautiful even when you have a spot the size of mount Vesuvius on your chin! <- @steveinscarlet

(Feel free to add, I'll add them:))

Vivian:

The first thing I thought about was Stu

He always had a little companion with him, wherever he would go (if he could take it with him, that is)

Absolutely loves playing your favourite songs on an acoustic, especially fast ones, 'cause they sometimes sound weird (he does it on purpose, 'cause it makes you laugh)

Lets you do his hair:)

Shy boy:>

Loves cuddling up in the middle of whatever you or he were doing

Forehead kisses

(Feel free to add!)

#nenynra's stuff #nenynra's thoughts #one a day series #def leppard #joe elliott #rick savage #rick allen #phil collen #steve clark #vivian campbell

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anon-sect · 23 hours ago

Text

Picture source: anonymous

Danny was really getting annoyed with his supervisor. Both him and Evan applied for the same job. He was more qualified for the position, but they end up picking Evan. He later found out that Evan got the position because of a secret bribe. He was so pissed off at that. To make things worse, Evan used his position to make work almost a living hell for him. He would give him way more task than others while the slackers got even less than before. He would sometimes give him near impossible deadlines to meet, knowing that would cause him to work a lot of late nights while he was out partying and having fun. It really got to a point he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to teach Evan a lesson that would equal the same amount of torture he gave him. He had the perfect idea of how to do it.

Evan arrived at Danny's office after he refused to meet one of the near impossible deadlines. "You know I could have you fired, but I might give you a second chance." Evan spoke with a twisted grin.

Danny was waiting for to come to his office. "I have the finished report here. Just take a look." He spoke as he turned the computer screen toward Evan. He took out his phone and set up the TF Pro app out of view of Evan.

Evan looked at the computer screen and saw nothing but an empty page. He was about to ask what that was about when he saw a flash from Danny's phone. There was an instant change of view. He was in a different form and could not move or speak. He had a limited view form what his new form was. He could hear Danny close his office door. "I turned you into boots. My partner loves boots. I am going to gift you to him for a while. It will be long enough for them to hire a new more qualified supervisor." He heard Danny laughing as he was placed in shoe box and the top put on it. He was trapped in the dark as his fate was already determined without his consent.

The next time Evan saw daylight was the top was removed. He heard Danny's voice, and he was talking with another guy.

"What do you think of them, babe?" Danny asked his partner Valin. He watched as Valin took out the boots and examined them.

"They look perfect. Where did you get them?" Valin asked as he continued to examine them.

"My supervisor had bought them, but they didn't fit his feet, so he thought you might be able to make use of them." Danny answered back, knowing full well that Evan was hearing every word. He smirked at that thought.

"Tell him I appreciate this. I have been wanting knew boots to wear. And the way they fell makes me want to wear them nearly every day." Valin spoke as he hugged his partner.

Evan was mentally screaming at both of them. He didn't want to be worn on his feet every day. He didn't even want to be boots at all. He watched in horror as a dingy white socked foot entered one boot and pressed down on his insole face. He had to endure the same scene as Valin put on the other boot. Valin did a couple of stomps and began to walk around in him. The dingy white sock had a strong odor to it. He so wanted to get away from them so badly. The pressure of being walked on made his insole face experience extreme pain, nothing like he had ever felt before. Each step was pain renewed over and over.

Danny watched as Valin walked around the room in his new boots, simply enjoying how they felt on his feet. The thought that poor Evan was being walked on without a single thought from his owner made him smile. He really must be suffering under my partner's feet; he thought to himself. Serves him right, he also thought.

For a straight two weeks, Evan found himself subjected to Valin's feet every day. Valin wore him to work, out shopping and hanging out with friends and his partner. Sometimes, Valin wore clean socks and other times, it was dirty and smelly socks. After a few days, he had already developed a strong foot odor from Valin's foot sweat. Every speck of material on the inside reeked of his owner's feet. He was really sorry now how he had treated Danny at work. Experiencing the excruciating pain every day as his face was an insole and smelling like Valin's feet all the time was torture beyond measure. All he wanted now was for Danny to turn him back to normal. He promised he would be a better supervisor if he did so.

ONE MONTH AFTER TRANSFORMATION....

Danny came back home smiling and exicted. "I finally got the supervisor position that I have been filing in for the past month, babe. They finally made it permanent." He hugged Valin. He looked down to notice he was still wearing his special boots he gave him, even after a whole month.

"Congratulations, babe. You deserve it. Especially after putting up with that ass hole of a supervisor for so long." Valin spoke as they both sat down on the couch.

"You know, I have been hiding a secret from you the past thirty days." Danny spoke, rubbing his partner's legs.

"Oh and what's that?" Valin asked as rubbed around Danny's neck, looking into his eyes.

"You remember my ass hole of a supervisor and how he suddenly went missing?" Danny paused as he kissed Valin on the lips. "Well, he technically wasn't missing. I know exactly where he has been the past thirty days.' he added, smiling with glee.

"Where," Valin asked him, being curious now.

"On your feet. I turned him into a pair of new boots and gifted him to you until I got the position." Danny smiled back, looking down at his partner's boots.

Valin looked down at his boots as well. He was silent for a moment to really think about that. "Are you really serious?" He finally asked. He saw Danny nodding back in affirmation of his question. "No wonder they felt so good on my feet."

"But now that I have the position, I can change him back now." Danny spoke, but to open the TF Pro App on his phone.

"No, you will not. I like my boots; babe and I want to keep them." Valin paused, wiggling his toes in his boots. "They are the most comfortable footwear I ever owned. Besides, you gave them to me. It's my choice of what happens to them, right?" Valin tried to reason with his partner. He really wanted to keep his boots, despite knowing the truth now.

Danny thought about it. "Okay, if you want to keep the boots, I will let you." He deleted the reverse data from the app. "But you know fully about the boots, now. Yet, you still want to keep them." He added.

Valin nodded. "That doesn't matter. He is my property to do with as I pleased ever since you gave him to me." Both of them laughed at that remark.

Evan mentally cried, hearing the whole conversation. Valin had completely decided to keep him as his boots and Danny got his job. He now was nothing but a pair of boots for the rest of his life and no one was going to change that.

#inanimate transformation #foot domination #shrinkage #tf story #permanent transformation #unwilling permanent transformation #boot transformation #initial unaware transformation

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writing-hat · 3 days ago

Text

shattering

/!\ Spoilers for Dragons Rising S2P2!

(very original title) hiii i'm still not dead <3 sorry i'm not active but y'know. life.

here's a jay fic!! about him experiencing shatterspin for the very first time but this is actually more me trying to make the wolf masks kinda gory and made out of flesh it's. it's an experiment. as well as like. physical effects

i'm just having fun and trying out some things (ig it's not really a fic then but idk adfkjsegd)

/!\ TW : Blood, Gore, Wounds, Death (tell me if I forgot something)

Also not beta read and I don't read that well behind myself yaddi yadda y'know the drill (especially since this is more of a bunch of scraps assembled together and not a real fic akfjzsgv (I might cross post it on AO3 at some point we'll see))

This is around 6.8k words so it's half a short? anyway enjoy

Jay narrowed his eyes at the mask he held.

It seemed to be looking back at him. And to be frank, he wasn’t a fan of how it looked back.

A shiver crawled down his spine as he passed his fingers on the front. It was meant to be a mask, but the fact that there was hair there, even if short, was somewhat disturbing to realize. He didn’t know how to feel about the idea that these could be made of real fur. Or worse, that they were somewhat organic, and used to be alive.

He checked the eyes; they seemed colorless, and dull, when inactivated. Glassy.

Dead.

That last realization brought relief. Yeah, it was dead.

Whatever it was.

He knew he was supposed to put that shit on at some point, but… it didn’t seem like a great idea, in hindsight. At least that’s what his guts were telling him.

His mind was on a whole other setting. He trusted Ras, after all. Why shouldn’t he? He had saved him, from the insanity that the Administration had been.

Thank goodness this is over. He was grateful to the man, and had taken the time to hear his interests, and plans. Things Jay wasn’t bothered by, too big to be of a concern to him. But since they were important to his savior, well, who was he to refuse helping him?

He passed a hand on the fur again, before turning it around to see the inside. He winced.

It had been… somewhat ‘polished’, but one could not look away from the flesh that had probably been ripped apart from some unfortunate creature, the whole mask made of stitches between different kinds of skin. But he didn’t dare to touch it to confirm his fears. Had it been the same specie, every time? He did wonder if asking himself that wasn’t the most unimportant question of all.

Living beings had to die, for these masks to be made.

Jay hated how his brain was sure of it.

That, and there was some… sort of taint, at the bottom of it. Where the mouth was supposed to be.

It wasn’t on all the masks, but enough of them had it to pique Jay’s curiosity.

He hadn’t talked about it to Lord Ras yet, of course. He doubted others had noticed what these visages were made of. He wasn’t even sure how he had noticed the details in the first place.

Perhaps due to his weird anxious nature about everything that’s been happening since starting his life in the Administration. His only life, actually, since he couldn’t remember shit from before.

The medallion felt heavy in his pocket. Its sudden presence making itself known made him frown.

This piece of metal was all that was left to him. He wasn’t even sure how the ones that had found him in the Land of Madness hadn’t taken that away from him, just like all his previous belongings.

He placed the mask back in its place, giving it a final glare, before walking away.

He looked at himself, unsure of what to think of his clothes.

They were comfy, that was for sure. Much better then the suit he’d been forced to wear for years in this damned Administration. And looking much better. He did enjoy the patterns that had been added to go along his powers. Symbols of wolf could be seen as well, on his chest, making sure people would know which clan he belonged to- in case the mask wouldn’t be enough.

But the fur covering his neck, and the gloves… he didn’t like as much. They hid away scars, important parts of himself.

Then again, he still had the ones on his face, definitely due to his own powers when it came to the lightning paths, and probably from fights where there were cuts, and skin that had been torn.

He wasn’t a fan of keeping them away.

But, having his body completely protected when it was clear he was going to fight in the future wasn’t that bad of an idea. Are we going to fight now? Jay doubted it. A lot of the new recruits had probably no idea of what they were getting into. Had probably been enrolled with the idea that they were going to become better fighters, with something close to powers. Lots of people didn’t listen fully when about to drastically change their lives, he had seen it many times in the Administration.

With a heavy sigh, he passed a hand on his face. To be honest, Jay hadn’t thought that long about this idea of joining Lord Ras’s forces as well.

But I owe him. He was there when no one had tried to help. It was all that mattered.

Jay could hear people getting closer. He turned around, seeing Cinder and Ras coming towards him.

The latter still had the same expression as always, severe, and mildly pissed off at people for breathing in front of him. The master of smoke, on the other hand, often had a smug expression there, knowing he was above everyone else, and enjoying it way too much. Not too far from them, he could see Jordana, the sort of witch- he didn’t completely understand what her deal was- who looked away as soon as she saw Jay noticing her.

He didn’t get to focus on that, though, when Ras made sure to be the only thing in his vision.

“I take it you’re ready for today.”

No. Not at all. But this wasn’t what their Lord wanted to hear. “Yes.” He took a deep breath, doing his best to resist the need to fidget with the fur around his collar.

“A first test, to make sure everything will go smoothly for the first battle.” Cinder chuckled at Jay’s expression, before handing him the wolf mask. “You’re lucky to try it before the real deal, Jay.”

He glared at Cinder. “Yeah. I guess so.”

Though, with how the master of smoke was looking at him, mocking, he wouldn’t call any of this luck.

Inhaling sharply, he tried to not let himself show how nervous he felt. He hadn’t expected to wear it so soon. He grabbed the mask that was given to him, nauseous at how he was about to wear unknown skin on his own.

He tried to compare it to leather, but fuck that had nothing in common. He passed trembling fingers on the inside, wanting to confirm his fears.

…Yup. Organic tissues. It was repulsing.

Cinder quirked an eyebrow. “Are you hesitant now?”

There was a threatening growl coming from Ras that echoed with the other’s words. Jay closed his eyes, and shook his head. At least… there weren’t any smell to go with the thing. “No. Not at all.”

“Good.” Ras crossed his arms behind his back, walking towards the arena. “Then get ready. You will be tested along our new soldiers.”

Soldiers. Why did he hate that designation? Wasn’t he supposed to be more, with his elemental power?

He adverted his gaze, focusing it back on the inside of this mask. “Sure.”

It was the first time he entered the shadow dojo. The outside had been eerie, with nothing but the strange orange and red light on their paths, but the inside was a whole other deal.

It was… poorly lighted, somehow, despite the bright lights coming from outside, with candles offering a soft blue glow all around them. He wasn’t sure how the flames managed to stay in that hue, but couldn’t really focus on that when he was trying to avoid all the others that entered with him. Some were chatting, apparently already knowing each other.

Jay didn’t want to know anyone in here. He didn’t see the point.

There were runes everywhere as well. He had no idea of what they meant, but they were glistening too, in that same color as the candles. Plants had grown as well on the wall, somehow.

He sat on the ground, unbothered to stay up like the others. From here, he could see that the only one on the ground like him was someone with a large hat, covering most of his face. His eyes were revealed briefly when he raised his head to watch who had come here for the first trial, allowing Jay to recognize him.

He was the guy he had seen many times speak with Ras. Although speak was a light statement; more so yelling and arguing, with the latter always having the last word, letting the other clearly frustrated.

Nokt. That was his name. He remembered him due to the electrical device placed on the back of his head. Even if he wasn’t sure he had heard his name right earlier, since it seemed like he preferred to keep to himself, as proved when he lowered his hat down again, effectively shielding his expression away from everyone else.

But there was something Jay managed to see before he did.

A spark of amusement, of all things, akin to one about to watch some sort of entertainment unfold.

…Jay didn’t think he was going to like that guy.

His attention shifted back to their leader, when he hit the ground with his hammer. He gave a speech, one Jay half-listened to, about being ready to change their lives for this better form of power, and so on and so on. Monologues are always so tiring.

…Where had he heard boring monologues like these before?

A glimpse of- something, from before, barely there, that escaped him as soon as he tried to look for it, smothered away by another hit of Lord Ras’s hammer against the ground, and someone getting on their feet and walking to the center of the room. Jay thanked his luck helping out for once, since he definitely wouldn’t have heard his name if he had been first.

Watching the guy, he gave way to his urge, and started to play with the fur around his neck to keep himself calm. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like his anxiety was eating him alive, starting with his insides, and pulling on his guts and get him to run away from there as fast as he could.

He gnawed on his lip. He couldn’t make himself worry about nothing. This was just… apprehension, that came with every test he had to take.

Except if he failed this one, he might’ve to be forced back into the Administration. Damn it.

Deciding on ignoring the painful cramps his overreacting unconscious gave him, he focused back on the scene before him, observing the one that had been called.

The guy nodded his head to Lord Ras, and placed the mask on his face. Jay winced, clutching his other hand around the one he was holding; he really didn’t want to know how centuries old flesh would feel on his face. But he supposed he had no choice.

Holding his breath as Ras approached the gong, he tried to think of the power that wearing this mask would mean for him. He knew there was something about a forbidden technique of some sort, the Shatterspin, which he’d been taught the basics, but what about his powers? What would be the effects?

He’d seen Cinder. He’d seen how much quicker and agile he became whenever the mask would fuse with him, and gift him an armor instead of staying as a mask. The red eyes, he wasn’t that fan of, but if it meant finding who he was supposed to be, by feeling his powers better then ever before…

The scar under his left eye throbbed, forcing him to rub it. Not that he didn’t feel his power now, but he didn’t quite think he had a good grasp on it. He managed a few zaps here and there, and sparks to help him when it was completely dark, but other then that, not much else.

There is potential within you, Jay Walker. These had been Lord Ras’s words.

And he couldn’t wait to unleash that potential.

The gong was hit a first time.

Jay jumped out of his skin when the one put on trial shrieked in pain. Someone beside him gasped, letting him know that he definitely wasn’t the only one to be surprised.

He walked back, holding his face in pain and doubling over as the mask’s glowed that bright cyan. Not letting him the time to rest, or even wonder what was happening to him, the gong was hit a second time with a sound that echoed all around them. It was enough to make the room shake, and dust fall from the unexpectedly stable walls of this place. All the blue lights turned red.

The guy screamed again. Jay watched as he tried to remove the mask, pulling on his hair when trying to remove the strap that kept it in place. But it didn’t budge, despite his knuckles turning white from the force he was using for this one thing.

Jay felt sick, witnessing all this. Glancing around, he noticed how disappointed Lord Ras looked, and the way Cinder let his disgust appear.

…Shit.

His attention shifted back to the man in the center when he heard him puke. From here, he couldn’t really see what came out, and couldn’t help his flinch when the sound of retching reached his ears.

Chocking sounds could then be heard. It surely didn’t help when he threw his head back, gasping for air, too far gone to realize that he was making things worse.

Jay couldn’t look away from him. Doing so… doing so would mean he wasn’t cut for this role. It would mean showing weakness, and not being worthy of the chance offered to him.

Doing so would mean abandoning the man to his fate, a far side of his brain whispered. Jay took a deep breath, brushing that thought aside, just like he always had back in the Administration. Kindness and pity weren’t the way to go when one wanted to master Shatterspin, and the power of the Wolf Clan. He remembered Ras’s warnings too well.

Speaking of which, he couldn’t help but check a second time their leader, breath getting stuck in his throat when he did.

Lord Ras was watching them, not the poor guy struggling to survive against the surges of powers that went in his body forcefully. He was quick to understand; he wanted to see who was able to stomach it, and who would be useless in the future to him. And fuck, Jay didn’t think he could do that, but he didn’t have a choice. His body and mind didn’t have a choice.

The man screamed in pure pain and terror one last time, turning Jay’s insides. His hands grabbed at his skin, scratching with abnormal nails that had grown after the gong had been hit a third time. It made deep wounds, forcing crimson to pour out, but it seemed like the man couldn’t care less, just wanting to get rid of that cursed mask.

He heaved, then coughed, falling on his knees with a final yell, yielding to the pressure of energy that must’ve been coursing through his body. Unable to adapt.

And then…

He fell to the ground.

As soon as he did, the red lights came back to the blue hue they had first seen when entering the room.

When others gasped, and some cried, one, Jay heard a snicker. He looked around, trying to see who was sick enough to have that kind of reaction to someone dropping dead in front of them.

He frowned when he found out who.

Now he knew why Nokt had seemed amused at the beginning. He must’ve known this could happen. What a fucking psychopath. He looked away from him, and back at the center of the dojo.

Ras growled, stomping his boot on the ground at the result. He then turned towards Wolf Warriors, a finger pointed at the now dead man. “Get it out of here. We aren’t done yet.”

Shit. Shit. Jay swallowed hard, unable to look away from the blood, as well as the one the corpse left behind when pulled away in a messy trail.

Their leader hit the ground with his hammer, demanding attention from everyone in the room. “The reason he failed, was his resilience against our power. To become powerful, one must learn to bend to the rules that make it all. Only then, can you be one with the Wolf Clan’s powers.” He pointed his weapon towards the recruits, snarling when most of them took a step back in front of it. “Another one of his mistake was doubting me, and being a coward.”

His eyes scanned the room, glaring. “If any of you feel that way as well, you may as well leave. Now.”

That would be a mistake. Yet, some people immediately hurried out, not needing to be told twice. Not a lot- four of them, he counted. Jay closed his eyes, and tried to ignore how two Wolf Warriors followed after them, their claws ready.

What had he gotten himself into? What was going to happen to him?! How many others were going to die? Not that he questioned of the others’ loyalty, but there was no doubt that witnessing that guy’s death must’ve changed their will to join.

Now that Jay knew this was the consequence of failure… fuck. Fuck. His guts were twisting in there, hurting his stomach physically, at this point. His ears were ringing, clouding his mind from everything else. What if all that he had done, all this ‘surviving’ shit, had only lead to his demise?

Jay clenched his fists. He’d never allow that. Cinder had managed to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

This was an opportunity. To find purpose, and a place where he would belong. He couldn’t screw this up. He wasn’t a damn coward. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to fight back the power that was about to allow him a new beginning.

This was a cruel world after all. Hadn’t he learned that over and over again? And he couldn’t be at the bottom of it all just because others weren’t able to keep up.

He would not. He would survive through it all, no matter what it meant to wear that mask.

No matter the price.

Ras called his name. He was the second one to be tested.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his head, and faced the Lord’s eyes with a fierce glare.

Slowly, he got up, ignoring how his stomach still felt like a pit, and how his head was still hurting from the panic he had felt earlier when seeing that man die, his pulse somehow perceivable in his ears.

Still, he got to the center of the room. Only when he did, his eyes found themselves unable to detach from the splatters of blood everywhere. Some were older. Some were on the walls.

They had all witnessed that many times, hadn’t they? And they hadn’t told anyone.

It was… it was…

He took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to loose it.

A dark paw handed the mask to him. It allowed Jay to focus his eyes in front of him, and away from the red splatters. Something he regretted doing, when meeting Ras’s eyes.

They were harsh, and unforgiving.

Jay couldn’t mess up.

He was being given a chance. A chance, that could be taken back, and handed to any other elemental master. He wasn’t the only one gifted after all, Cinder was the proof of that. Ras didn’t need him for this grand plan; he had an army, and people ready to follow his every order.

On the other hand, Jay needed Ras. And he owed that new chance at freedom, to him.

Straightening up, he grabbed his mask, and tried to not think back on how it was made of skin. Instead, he tried to concentrate on how there was metal there as well. When tying the strap behind his head, he tried to not remember how the one before him hadn’t been able to remove it when wanting to escape.

No turning back.

Darkness cornered his vision, the latter becoming defined by the constricted sight given to him.

Once settled, he placed both his arms along his body, and nodded to Ras with a dry throat. The latter growled, rearranging his hold on the hammer.

The gong was hit a first time.

The wave of its sound exploded in the room, reaching Jay’s body. It froze him, both his physical shell, and thoughts. Everything had gone silent in his mind, and around him. And he wasn’t sure if this was due to the effect of its power.

Even breathing seemed impossible, in these short seconds. He was completely petrified, finding himself feeling as if he’d been stuck in something so dense and heavy, holding him back. No noise could make it out of his mouth, despite the pain that had started to build up in both his face and chest.

Something had cracked inside of him.

Just as he sensed it, the gong was hit a second time.

It felt like a blow to his chest, making him back away. His bones felt breaking as he did, making him wonder if they could’ve been weakened by the power he had been hoping to obtain.

His ears unblocked. It caused him to be suddenly dizzy, and made his head heavy with the lack of oxygen.

Then his breath hitched, as soon as he noticed the paralyzing effect was gone.

Like breaking out of shallow waters and reaching the surface, he gasped, greedily sucking air. His legs wobbled, making him feel like he was about to loose balance, as both his hands reached for his neck to protect the precious air he was barely able to keep in his trachea.

His skin was itchy everywhere. Something was going on inside of him, turning his veins icy cold.

Something was wrong, and hurting. Something was very wrong.

The rush of his blood too was fast, and strong, making him think that his blood vessels were doubling in size, and perhaps stretching his skin as it grew, leading to his articulations becoming harder to move. It left the impression that everything was about to blow inside of him.

For a second, he wondered if he had died, and if he was about to fall on the floor, just like the man before him had, but then realized that the sound of his heartbeat was still there, and as fucking loud as it was quick.

He was alive. He was-

The gong was hit for the third, and last time.

The final wave forced him to puke, which he went along with, trying his best to not suffocate with it like the first guy. A blink, and he noticed that it was blood, coming out from his mouth in worrying amounts.

His insides abruptly felt like shattering, and he yelled, as his whole body seemed burning up, a harsh and painful contrast compared to what he’d been feeling seconds ago.

Jay wasn’t able to keep a shriek from escaping him, when the power he’d felt in him for as long as he could remember reached for his limbs, and exploded. The scent of burning skin made it to his nostrils, and he held his middle, as if trying to stop his insides from escaping him like his powers had. Only when he did, he sensed his lightning breaking apart.

Millions of pieces, made of parts of his powers, going absolutely insane, and making his body spasm.

Getting electrocuted was a familiar feeling. One he despised, but was never able to escape for too long when it came to dealing with his own incompetence and ignorance. Or when he would redirect lighting on their ship, to protect the ones he cared about.

But just like his power, these thoughts were shattered, making him cry, as his head hurt too much for him to keep up with.

So he didn’t.

He let these words and images get torn into pieces, shards feeling like they came to his heart, pulling his whole torso in a constricting sensation that once again made him think like he was about to die, just like that. The boiling sensation kept on increasing, causing his whole body to feel like he was burning alive.

Something clicked, then, and his vision became too blurry to understand. The red lights made it so he didn’t know where he was anymore, the distant image of people he used to know breaking apart again and again, causing his mind to shatter as well.

And once it was all gone, he vomited again, hugging himself tightly as if trying to at least keep his body in one piece. His shoulders slowly felt heavier, and the fur that had been around his sensitive skin suddenly ceased to be.

Though this was the last thing Jay cared about, as he fell to his knees, the collide with the ground making his bones almost rattle. The way his fingers kept twitching made him wonder how they hadn’t broken yet.

His breathing was difficult, with a voice that had turned hoarse at yells and cries of pain he hadn’t even been aware to be letting out.

He was about to die. He didn’t know how the feeling was so familiar, perhaps due to the blood that accumulated in his breathing pipes, akin to water, filling his lungs until there could be no air passing through. His heartbeat was diminishing, yet it stayed as the only thing Jay could hear.

So he caught it. He caught his heart, for it was all that was left to him.

His will to stay alive. His will to have something of his own, that would make him whole.

And it was a heart burning with rage.

This, was what pulled all the pieces back. What once had tried to escape him, was now caught back by the sheer amount of anger he felt at how fate and destiny had treated him.

What does it mean? The question went away as soon as it brushed his mind, the violent waves of power crushing anything that wasn’t meant to be like it away.

Thoughts. Feelings.

They no longer mattered.

All that mattered was power. Stitching back all that had been separated.

His lightning felt growing. Launching itself and balancing his body in positions and forms that meant both a cry for a help and the picture of a violent force forbidding anyone to get close.

Then came the fusion.

The skin that made the inside of the mask slithered in through his pores, pulling and tearing its way through to have full possession of him, and share its cursed strength to the one that had dared to agree with its ways. Jay wanted to wonder if this was what it meant to meddle with dark magic.

But he couldn’t even do that, screaming again with his broken voice at the violent intrusion he had allowed for someone else’s game.

Foolish. Foolish. He always was foolish.

The foreign matter didn’t bother to be careful, before settling in- although not without damaging the inside of his mouth some more. It forced out more blood out, kicking out whatever was left that wouldn’t be useful to this newfound power.

A final deep breath, and Jay felt…

Liberated.

Gone, was the weight that had been caused by his soul and mind shattering and leaving behind too many pieces to carry. His whole body now felt light, lungs freed enough to give him as much space as needed for the air he needed to live.

The power felt lurking in his systems, flowing and giving him feelings he’d never felt before.

It was pure bliss.

After a few minutes, Jay blinked, his vision coming back, although with nothing to muffle it this time. The euphoric sensation slowly escaped him, letting reality settle back in his mind. Feelings of what was around and on him came back, making him tighten his fists.

He felt as though his sweat had drenched all of his clothes, along the blood. His chest kept expanding in grand moves, each breath making his body quiver, as he tried to catch his breath properly, and return oxygen to his brain.

When he did, his head returned to its previous heavy state, with each pulse increasing the pressure at an impossible rate. Yet, this stayed incredibly dull compared to what having worn the mask the first time had felt like.

He opened and closed his mouth, stretching his jaw to check if it hadn’t changed, or if the muscles there hadn’t torn apart. They had certainly felt so. He checked his limbs as well, particularly his hands, by opening and closing them multiple times.

Everything was good, it seemed.

Bringing his hands up, he checked his face, wanting to make sure everything was still there, and if he hadn’t just imagined the mask going inside of his skin.

But he hadn’t. The mask wasn’t here anymore.

He rubbed at his neck, but scratched himself, making him hiss. He looked at his hands.

Claws had grown, there. The gloves hadn’t even torn, having adapted to the new form they had gained. Closing his eyes, he then oversaw how his powers reacted to the newly added strength.

The response was immediate, surge of powers making his body twitch, and forcing him to gasp for air again. Opening back his eyes, he saw these bridges of electricity between his fingers, going all the way to the tip of his fingers, before disappearing, over and over again.

He chuckled, snapping his fingers. It created a small blow, enough to shake his curls. He then got back up, not bothered to look at the people around him, despite the loud whispers. Directing his gaze in front of him, he then aimed for a wall with his fingers, before sending his lightning there.

The stone that made the wall exploded, pieces of wood and rocks flying everywhere in the room, and allowing dust to float freely.

Jay snickered, feeling this happy buzzing inside of him, always here in the aftermath.

Fuck yeah.

He had missed this so much.

…I wonder who thisused to be.

Walking away from the gravestone, he added the wood to the fire he had prepared for the night.

A caravan was in that junkyard, but he didn’t feel like he was allowed to get inside, even if no one was there. No matter how cold it could get in the desert at night, this wasn’t his home, and he was simply there as a guest. He wasn’t even sure why he had traveled all the way here, but by the time he had realized where he had gone to, the sun had been long gone, leaving him with no choice but to set up camp here.

At least this spot was empty. It was a welcoming change compared to the crowded and suffocating places that had been the Administration or staying with the Wolf Clan. Although he had always been on his own in these previous positions, here the loneliness was one much better then what he’d dealt with in these last few years.

Jay hoped that there at least wouldn’t be any wild creatures to attack him. Fighting back without his powers had proven to be more difficult then he had expected. Thankfully, he had kept the gun from his time in the Administration; a great way to defend himself.

He sat on the ground, and looked at the fire crackling in front of his feet, relieving the itch on his face by scratching it as much as he could. No doubt his skin had not only turned red, but with marks left behind as well. Damn it.

…Being without that mask was going to be very hard. It had adapted to his skin- or maybe it had gifted him a second one. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t understand any of this.

All he knew, was that whenever he had been wearing it, even if for a short time, it had been granting him such an incredible thrill that he already knew just couldn’t be compared.

Oh, he had felt like he was on top of the world. As if nothing could’ve ever stopped his powers and him, from getting back at everything that had been unfair to him up to this point.

Now, all he had left were scars. From wearing this cursed mask, and bearing these powers that had never been truly his, but another’s hidden through his own element.

Jay had no idea if he missed the mask, its power, or if this was all caused by how much he missed his lightning.

His eye twitched; he should’ve listened to his urge, in that moment, and killed her. Destroyed her. And now that he hadn’t, the feeling of regret was unbearable.

He wanted to tear at his skin, but he didn’t even have the claws left for that. Only his poorly taken care of nails, dirty and gnawed by his need to relieve his anxiety and surges of powers every time he hadn’t been wearing the mask.

…Jay missed it all, as much as he cursed it all.

Had he not followed Ras, he would have never lost his powers. Had he stayed in the Administration, in this false life of his, he would have never been bothered by flashes and addictions he had never been prepared to face. He would’ve found his own way to his demise, sure, but at least through a path never led by others.

How had any of what I heard so farsounded right? How could I fall for their lies?

Jay frowned, thinking back on what he had listened to again. He didn’t believe them at all. Their fake stories…

Everyone lies. They’re all the same. Great warrior my ass. Jay now didn’t doubt that Ras could’ve lied to him, and it upset him greatly. What for?! To give him hope, and then crush it all in the next moment because of his so called failure? Gah!

He thought back on that woman he had fought. She too, had pretended to know him.

The sweet tone he could remember from her voice made him grit his teeth.

Even if she and her team had been right, why had they never come for him? It had been years. He had found himself all over again, since then.

“Let’s theorize that it was because they had no idea of where I was. Fine.” Jay clenched his fists. “Why didn’t they come get me when I was kicked out?”

His words were barely above a whisper, not even heavy enough to be carried around by the wind.

He stopped moving, forbid himself from flinching, focusing on the sounds of the burning fire so he could shift it as a background noise so his brain wouldn’t have to bother itself with. He then closed his eyes, and just… listened.

Strong wind, making the abandoned metal around him creak softly, and passing through small and tight openings, whistling all around him.

Deep down, he knew he waited for another noise. The snap of a branch, or the crunch of the sand under someone’s shoe that would make his hair bristle in apprehension. The sign that someone would come for him.

So he waited.

Until moments later, silence was still all that answered him.

He cursed, bringing his knees up to hug them, and huddle in a smaller position.

Jay didn’t know what else he had expected. Of course this wouldn’t happen.

He was alone. He’d always be, in the end. And it seemed like… he wasn’t enough. Not enough to make up for the help given to him, nor enough for people that were supposed to care about him to come back and find him. Loneliness was all that awaited him. He understood that.

… And despite feeling like this, he didn’t feel as he thought low he would’ve.

No. Quite the contrary.

Jay was… appeased. After all, that meant he could finally build a life. Even if it wouldn’t be much.

Throughout the years, he had learned that he had to move forward in order to survive. To do as told, and never question what he was ordered to do, or face consequences. Whether it had been the Administration, or Ras’s Wolf Clan.

So now, knowing for sure that no one and nothing was going to hold him back was freeing. Enough to get rid of these incessant thoughts bugging his mind, at least. Yet not quite enough to get rid of that pressure in his stomach.

Because all of this meant that he had nothing. He never had, and he never would. It left him… empty.

At the end of the day, it meant that he was nothing.

He watched the sparks escaping the fire. Like lightning’s, in a sense, but much less volatile, and not as comforting. He followed their trails, until his gaze ended up towards the stars. Had he known their names, a lifetime ago? The paths they traced, and how they never changed?

But it must’ve changed after the Merge. There was no doubt about that. Even something supposed to never be in motion except throughout centuries had completely shifted, no matter how infinite and big it must’ve always felt to him.

Everything had changed.

How was he supposed to find his past self if nothing was the same?

I don’t. That’s how. There was no need to waste time for something so meaningless. At least he hoped.

He sighed, glad to be protected from the chill of the night.

Warmth whenever it was cold was always a better thing. It was a comforting presence he had never admitted to enjoy in front of him. His… his heart kinda regretted that now.

Jay blinked at the dark sky.

…Who-

Something flashed before his eyes, too fast for him to identify what it was. It aimed for him, reaching its target in a millisecond.

Lightning had just struck him.

He shouted, feeling his powers immediately coming back to him, making him fall on his hands and knees.

Fuck. He hated that feeling. The one of his body getting electrocuted by his own life source, because he just couldn’t control it right.

Come on! He hit the ground with his fist, spitting on the grass as he grasped at the insanity of his power. He kept gritting his teeth, until finally, the lightning settled in, and buzzed happily to be back in its rightful place, with its rightful owner.

Jay took a deep breath. Yeah. Missed you too.

Since the start, his lightning had been the only thing there for him. To be reunited with it again brought tears to his eyes, both of joy, and anger.

At having lost them in the first place. At losing them to that damned water ninja.

I love you, Jay. I will always love you.

The memory of the woman’s desperate face flashed back when he shut his eyes to get rid of his tears.

An act. It wasn’t that difficult to pretend emotions after all, was it?

If he ever saw her again… he was pretty sure he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

She hadn’t hesitated to defeat him. Pretty fucked up for someone who was supposed to care, like she wanted him to believe.

Or maybe she’d been following orders, like I was.

Jay shook his head. Whatever the reason, it clearly wouldn’t justify anything. Nor would it tarnish the way his heart dripped hatred into his blood, making him even angrier then before.

The medallion felt heavy in his pocket.

Too heavy, this time.

He took it, and looked at the shape.

…It was a missing piece. He could see that now.

Jay didn’t want to be that. The missing piece of someone instead of being his own person. Of a puzzle he had nothing to do with.

What kind of life could he expect if all he was supposed to be was a pawn placed by others, and never able to have his own free will? The piece in a long chain of supposed important people. Full of important tasks, to serve the greater good of some kind of Great Administration, or a Great Cause of some Delusional Clan.

He’d be no one’s missing piece. No one’s lost part.

He was his own soul. No matter how shattered it felt, and how many little pieces of it were left.

Jay threw the heavy piece in the fire, the weight in his heart never tarnishing during the long time he watched it in the flames, as the moon advanced its course. He stayed that way, holding his limbs tightly against him, while taking deep yet suffocating breaths.

Until, it finally started to melt.

The slightest tint of gold, pearling down as it became a liquid again, and advanced on the darker metal it was attached to.

Never again.

#ninjago jay #hat's fics #hat's words #ninjago dr s2p2 #ninjago dragons rising s2p2 spoilers #< I haven't checked the leaks for s3 and i don't want to so idk what they got in store for Jay #but i decided to go with him going solo in this one #idk it's fun #also I kinda started the fic way before s2p2 sooo sorry if it's not lore accurate? oops?#tw gore #tw blood #tw wounds #tw death

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universalzones · 3 days ago

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"Since you're so obsessed with freedom how about you give me the freedom to do what I want with my life. If it involved turning myself over to GUN then I'm going to do it." Surge had data that Sonic had always pushed for freedom, though seeing it in actions made it came of as some sort of obsession, at least to her. "Besides, I gotta clear Kit. I get arrested, tell them Kit had nothing to do with the town attacks or anything, and you back that up. Hard to deny two people saying the same thing."

"I personally don't know much about GUN, though if this is how they normally act then I agree with Sonic," Belle said, which earned her a death glare from Surge making her take a step back. "Though I completely respect your choice and have nothing else to say." The tinkerer doubt she could even say anything to convince the tenrec anyway. Though her attention went to the speakers along with the other speedsters. Why did she get the feeling this wouldn't stop Surge?

"I ain't going, so you can have fun. I'm going to dash my happy ass over to the check point and stand right in front of it. Dare them to attack and see what happens. They want to be all big and threatening let's see if they can handle someone like me staring at them right in the face." Surge then dashed off, kicking up a fair amount of dust as she did so.

Belle was quick to stand in front of Sonic. "Please, don't chase after her. It sounds like she isn't going to attack them first, and it's not the worse idea. If they're only on standby until Lanolin gives the word we're standing down then they shouldn't attack Surge. Having her just standing at the check point and looking scary isn't that bad." The tinkerer was clearly used to the hedgehogs impulsiveness to be so quick to stand in front of him.

"We'll see what Lanolin wants first, and hope there's a plan to at least leave peacefully. Besides, it'll give you a chance to talk things over with Tails and see if he has a good idea, right?" Belle wasn't sure how much Sonic was willing to listen to her, though was sure he'd listen to Tails much better. "And yes, I could use a ride. Even if I might feel a bit sick afterwards," she said, holding out her hand. Moving at the speed of sound wasn't a fun experience, though it was only a short run and they were short on time.

===========================================================

"Not an option to add that upgrade right now. My hydrokinesis is more of a chaos skill, and while I can control water outside of my pack its not as good because when I suck water into my back the chaos drive inside pumps it with chaos energy. This allows me to control it a lot better. Though to slowly add at a time would require more power to be used, and that'd deplete the chaos driver faster. That's why I always add the water to my pack first before using it." Kitsunami didn't expect Miles to know that, though didn't want his input.

"Not to mention we just want to look tough, not like we're gearing from battle. If the numbers suddenly double it might make GUN more hostile. The turrets are stationary so if they see more it'll just make them nervous at best." Kitsunami didn't want to put too much pressure on GUN as they could easily backfire on them. The fennec then looked hearing Lanolin request quite a few people to the command center.

"Just get the holograms set up and then head to the command center. It shouldn't take that long as I doubt you'll set up that much." Kitsunami was just guessing with that one, though wouldn't be surprised if Miles didn't have that many on his person. "I'll go on ahead." The fennec's not so subtle way to get away from the vulpine. He was dealing with it so far, though really didn't like being around him. With all that said he left and began making his way to the command center.

Honestly? Listening to Surge's plan it wasn't as awful as she made it out to be. her intent was to give herself up no matter what right? So if that was the plan, one last hurrah wasn't awful if he was being pragmatic. Did he like it? No, of course not! He hated the idea of her giving up her freedom to anyone! But she was pretty set on it and if it allowed them plausible deniability then it was a way forward. Even if he was sure it was also an excuse for her to have one last shot at him. She was as eager to throw hands with him as he was to throw hands with her... weird how that worked wasnt it? As for the soldiers they weren't sure what to think. Most of them didn't look ready for a real fight with GUN.

" You are right i don't like it, but... If we had no choice i guess it's a good plan. I just don't know if GUN will buy it or worse try and take us both out... "

He sighed and gripped his wrist rubbing it as if it was sore

" I still think this is a whacked out idea, you giving yourself up and all... Belle will agree with me i'm sure! Giving yourself up to GUN no matter the good intentions is bound to be bad for you... i know you are dead set on this--- but i wanna say it one last time! there has to be a better way..."

Surge wouldn't even get a chance to respond before Lanolin came over the intercom. Calling Sonic, and the others back to the Command center. Which had sonic looking up at a nearby speaker. This was either Lanolin having a killer idea, or bad news for everyone. Sonic was leaning toward bad news... he just felt it in his gut.

" Looks like we might not get a say either way... you need a lift Belle? i bet she'd want you there to..."

He'd hold his hand out to Belle offering to take her to the command center with him. Either way it seemed like this was the end game, either they pulled out victory or GUN Won and restoration came crashing down.

===============================================

Miles tried to ignore how displeased Kit was with calling him his friend. That said he didn't intend to stop calling him that, he wanted to be Kit's friend. But seemed like no matter what he did they'd always be enemies. Chaos was he pulling a Sonic on this one? He didn't want to think about it. But Kit was right about seeing through the holograms but the idea was just to buy them time to form a counter offensive.

" You aren't wrong a sharp eye can see through them, but its meant more to just make the enemy pause. This is a deterrent after all not a means of attack. "

He tapped his chin and slowly looked up to the roof

" As for water... if things do get dicey we can set off the sprinklers. That should flood the room with water and give you enough offense to push back any attack. Heh you ever thought about hydroscopic water filtration for your pack? is always water in the air, you could probably pull water in that way, slowly refilling your pack over time. "

The head Nurse only smiled at the two seeing the tension and fidgeting with her Wispeon. She let the two speak before placing a hand on her hip and speaking up with a cheerful tone!

" Why holograms? I can alwaos duplicate more of myself! i can do around 200 at max... though that's stressing myself a bit. The more i create the less intelligent the copies become. but if you just need me to stand around and look intimidating... we can do that! Though i'd prefer not getting myself killed as it were--- i kind of remember when that happens... its not pleasant. "

She squeaked as if remembering several moments her copies died, and she had to deal with the consequences. Miles figured anything the copy experienced she also experienced. So they were probably a sort of hive mind, the more copies there were, the more connections she made the more of her was spread out among the copies. So this was how Altiss kept his base safe--- his nurse was a real power house when you thought about it from a numbers game. Though clearly she was acting brave, and probably not a good fighter.

" Neat... i gotta say that's a killer gift... but let's not put you in more danger then your in. Plus, you have patients to care for to... let's just stick to holograms... unless we need the extra firepower. "

Miles stopped as the intercom went live, and Lanolins message went out calling all of them to the command center. He gave Kit a glance wondering what changed but, guessed they should grab the belle bot and head to the command center. though he hoped Dawn and the others would be ok till they returned.

" Guess Lanolin is up to something... might as well put our plans on hold for now... "

#atangledfate #Surge the Tenrec #speed of lightning brawler #Belle the Tinkerer #gentle puppet tinkerer #Kitsunami the Fennec #nervous shaking water #rp #ic #IDW Sonic

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whenalltheeyesopen · 1 day ago

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At this point @jellyskink has shown Ford losing no fewer than three separate pet shows, so I made a followup to the fic where Irene drives him home while he's having an abandonment-related mental breakdown.

Enjoy! (AO3 cross-post)

Irene paced three steps along the hall runner. She tapped the little ivy leaf that marked the midpoint, turned, walked back.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done," she said out loud to the empty hallway.

Then she picked up her phone and made a call.

---

Dr. Ibis almost didn't answer. Dr. Irene Oleander was a nice enough woman, but a call from her so soon before one of his regular appointments with that patient was a guaranteed migraine. It was fine when she was just requesting his most recent x-rays, but sometimes she called to tell him that she had found flesh-eating worms in the man's gums and to please be careful in case Bill Cipher had been denying his favorite pet medicine access.

Whatever this was, it would be just as unpleasant tomorrow. It was probably important, possibly time sensitive. Sometimes, the migraine needs must be endured.

"Hello, Irene," he said.

"Yusuf. How are you doing?"

"Fairly well." He gave the file on his computer screen a quick once-over. "Busy with work. I assume you're calling for business?"

There was nothing but the white noise of a poor connection.

"...Hello?"

"I'm here," Oleander confirmed. She sounded uncomfortable. "This is going to sound extremely strange, but I wanted to ask you a favor."

Ibis raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn't see. He tried to make sure the humor was obvious in his inflection: "I hope we aren't on such bad terms that a favor is outlandish to ask."

"No, no, it's just- it's an outlandish favor."

Ibis hummed. "Irene," he said, "does it by any chance have anything to do with a certain mutual patient?"

To his chagrine, she did not respond immediately.

He sighed loudly. "Just tell me what it is."

"Is there a custom trophy shop near you?"

"A what?"

"A trophy shop, or a place that does etchings or something."

"Uh-" he had never had cause to investigate, but he was pretty sure the print shop did tchotchkes. "I think so?"

"Right. Um." Oleander made a strange noise. "Um, so, after your last appointment, you asked me to try and get Dr. Pines to start flossing regularly since he hadn't been listening to you. And I did talk to him, and last I saw him he said he had been."

"Well that's peachy," Ibis said drily. "He eats nothing but organ meat and candy with as far as I can tell a side helping of stainless steel deadbolts. But at least he's flossing."

"Believe me, I'm fighting that same battle," Oleander said. There was real anger in her voice. She was much more invested than Ibis in the lost cause that was patient health.

Static again.

"Alright," she said. "Can you, um. This is going to sound stupid. Can you make him a trophy for it."

Ibis almost couldn't believe his ears. "For flossing?"

"I know it's ridiculous."

"Ridiculous doesn't begin to cover it."

"I'll pay you back for the cost, and - I don't know, I'll buy you dinner or something. Or owe you a favor."

Ibis glanced over at his computer again. He did some mental timesheet math.

"Yusuf?"

"I'm thinking."

"Please. I know it's dumb, but he's had a really bad... Uh, series of encounters."

"Yes, I saw them on TV."

Oleander's voice went quiet while she swore away from the receiver. "You were watching."

"I thought it might be fun to see how Calimari did."

"That's... Very sweet of you."

"I found Cipher's entries infinitely more entertaining."

"You-" Oleander cut her own furious response off, apparently remembering that she wanted Ibis to owe her a favor. "Will you help me cheer him up or not?"

"Well," Ibis said, "you do have a way with insurance companies."

"You want me to do your insurance coding for you???"

About eight hours of it, in fact. "If you want me to cheer up your sad little man."

"Yusuf, I swear-"

"Deal or no deal?"

She went silent again. She was definitely fuming at him.

"...Deal."

"Fantastic."

"Thank you."

"I hope you have a marvelous day, Irene."

"You too."

"I'll send you the relevant documents."

"Lovely."

He logged out if his computer. He stretched his shoulders, stiff from too much desk jockying, and headed out the door.

Maybe flossing trophies would enter his normal hygiene support system after this.

#Dr. Irene Oleander #Jellyskink #domesticated ford au #domesticated ford #Fanfiction #Dr. Yusuf Ibis

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storiesfromafan · 2 days ago

Text

My Girl - Benny Cross x Reader

A/N: I know this is a slow series, but hopefully it's not too bad 😅

(Also, posting this from my phone, might have to fix this up later 😅😅)

Previous: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day

When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May (ooh)

I guess you’d say

What can make me feel this way?

My girl, my girl, my girl

Talkin’ ‘bout my girl, my girl

- My Girl by The Temptations

It had been a week since Benny spoke to you. And it was all he could think about. Sure, he’d seen you around the town, mostly at the grocery shop or the diner, in passing. But it wasn’t enough. He’d gotten a taste of your sweet voice. Seeing you up close; the colour of your eyes, which had specs of (colour) to them. How your hair was (colour) but when the light hits it, it looked (colour). How your cheeks go a rosy colour when you were shy or embarrassed. Benny wanted to experience it all so much more.

Cal waved his hand in front of Benny's face, snapping the young Vandal from his thoughts of you. That’s right, he was currently playing a game of pool with the man laughing at him. While waiting for his shot, it looks like Benny had zoned out again. Holding the cue against his body, Benny shot Cal and those around him an embarrassed smile. Which only made them laugh.

“Sorry" he muttered, moving with his cue to the pool table and looking over his options. Before finally lining up his shot and taking it, sinking the four ball.

Johnny was sitting near by on a stool, nursing his beer. “Ya alright kid? Ain’t like ya to be off with the fairies".

Before Benny could say a word, Cal beat him to the punch. “Yeah, he’s alright. Just found himself a girl".

Johnny raised his eyebrows in surprise, this was the first time he’d heard about there being a girl. “Is that right, huh?”

Another man – one from the diner incidents – laughed before speaking up, “yeah! She’s a shy, little thing. Some of the guys were makin' fun of her, but Benny stepped in and told them to ‘knock it off’”.

Johnny nodded, listening to the man’s words. Benny stood back from the pool table – his turnover – as he listened to them, embarrassed by the retelling of the diner. But it was true. He stepped in and defended you. And he would do it again for you if needed him too.

Sliding off his stool, Johnny down the rest of his beer before walking past Benny. He chuckled, patting him on the back. “Well, ya'll have to bring her around sometime. Would be nice to meet the girl that’s got ya by the balls".

Johnny then walked off to speak with a few other guys. Cal and the guys around Benny laughed at their leaders' words. They even jostled Benny and shared their own comments, which he wasn’t too fond of. But Benny knew he’d have to bring you to the bar. It would be a shock for you, but he knew you could handle it. Plus he’d be there with you, making sure nothing happened to you.

“Alright, spill!” Fran demanded, as she and Sandra sat across from you in a booth at the diner where this all began.

“Yeah! I had to hear it from my neighbour, who heard from her hair dresser, who got the gossip from Mrs Martin about Benny coming into the grocery store! And talking to you!?” Added Sandra.

You sat on your side of the booth, wishing it would swallow you up from their intense gazes. Once more, they asked you about Benny. And to be honest, you didn’t know what it meant. He’d come in for gum, and you shared a small conversation.

Taking a sip from the milkshake before you, you sat back and cleared your throat. “Well...there’s not much to say-" you started before being interrupted.

“Oh bull!” Huffed Fran. “From what we’ve heard, it was pretty intense between you too!”

“Yeah, so don’t down play it!” Added Sandra.

You sighed. “Really! It wasn’t like that, it wasn’t that big a deal!” You took a moment to gather your thoughts. “It went like this; I was just working and stupidly singing when I was surprised to see Benny. And I was a complete bumbling idiot! He wanted to buy gum-"

“Gum?” Both women questioned.

You nodded. “Yes, gum. He then apologised for the Vandals comments" you recalled that moment a week ago. “Benny then asked for my name, which I gave him, and he said it was pretty, that it suits me...then Mrs Martin showed up, and yeah, she wasn’t pleasant to him at all".

Both women stared at you, as you went back to your milkshake. “Bull" Sandra said, leaning over the table. “That’s not the story, right?”

“Yeah, its too...clean?” Fran said confused.

You wanted to laugh at their faces, but held back. “It’s the truth".

Both women sat back against the booth, utterly confused. As they began to tell you, the way they heard it was some big drama. That Benny was harassing you when Mrs Martin stepped in. Not to mention one retelling told that you were shamelessly flirting with Benny, practically in his hands, one palm on each cheek, and not that of your face. You blushed at the notion.

“If this is what we've heard, just imagine what your parents might hear" Fran's words sobered you up.

You hadn’t even thought about your parents, and God only knows what they’ll say, or do, if they hear the gossip of Benny and you. But it being after a week and only now had your friends heard about it. So, there could be a small chance they might not hear it. So long as you stayed clear of any further gossip, you might be in the clear.

Unfortunately for you, the other half of the gossip mill didn’t know your plan. You heard the bell above the diner door jingle and heavy feet. You were talking to your friends, not even caring about your surroundings. It was only when you glanced up to look at Sandra and Fran, discussing a coming movie to your local theatre, were you confused to see their shocked faces. They looked stunned, mouths slightly agape and eyes wide. Before you could questioned them the silence at your table was disturbed by an all too familiar gruff voice.

“Hey (Y/N)”

You turned only to find Benny. Who looked just as good as the last time you’d seen him. Only this time he was wearing dirty white jeans, black t-shirt and his denim vest that sported the Vandal colours. The way he looked at you with those baby blues of his, warm and twinkling. The way his full lips turned up in a shy, slightly toothy smile.

You felt one of your friends kick your foot, snapping you from your observation of him. “H-hi Benny...”

Hearing his name from your lips, in that honeyed voice of yours, had Benny's heart skipping a beat. His smile brightened, and he slowly began to relax. Finally, he noticed your companions, which he smiled at – but not as brightly as he had you. Benny even shot them a hey. You’d have laughed at their reaction to being acknowledged by the gorgeous Vandal. But you were busy trying to wrap your head around him being here in the first place. And even then, that voice in the back of your head was telling you to be careful, you don’t need more gossip getting around town.

“Mind if I join ya?” Benny asked, looking at you, yet not even waiting for your reply before slipping in into the booth next to you, boxing you in without an escape.

All you could do was look at Benny, not doubt like a deer in headlights, while he just continued to look at you. That charming smile on his lips. Both Fran and Sandra shared a look before turning back to you and Benny. One of the women cleared their throat, which got your attention. Turning from Benny, breaking the connection between you both. From there, they made small talk, which was mostly directed at Benny. Who only gave vague or one word answers.

You found it amusing how he didn’t seem to care for their attention. Yet when you spoke, he listened attentively and spoke to you. Slowly, you relaxed and were able to drink the rest of your milkshake, all while those baby blues watched you. Fran and Sandra eventually left, as they weren’t getting any of Benny's attention. So they slinked away with their tails between their legs.

“Finally, just us" Benny sighed, placing his arm on the back of the booth. His fingers brushing your clothed back.

A small, pleasant shiver ran down your spine. Your breath catching for a moment. You imagined what it would be like if you had been wearing a sun dress. How warm he would be, how rough those pads would be against your skin.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Benny's rough voice said into your ear, his breath fanning over you from how close he was to you.

When you turned to look at him, you were surprised to see how close Benny was. Being so close, you could see how blue his eyes were, with small specs of a darker blue. They were beautiful and captivating. You could easily get lost in those blues.

“A-ah, yeah...I'm fine" you squeaked out, making Benny chuckle.

He moved back a little, a warm smile crossing his lips at your words. “Good. I wanna know, do you wanna come to a meetin’ when I get back in town?”

You blinked. “You’re leaving?”

“Just for a few days, sweetheart," he replied, drumming his hands on the booth.

“Oh...” you muttered.

Then you took a moment to think over his offer. You knew you should keep your distance, stop any chance of gossip coming back to bite you. And yet, this was the second time he’d sought you out. Coming to talk to you. You should be running away from Benny Cross, and yet you wanted to move closer to him. Maybe you could be a girl he could want.

‘You sure?’ That voice asked. Yet you did your best to ignore it.

Pushing away your thoughts and insecurities, forgetting the repercussions that could come from talking and being seen with Benny. You couldn’t deny how you liked having his attention. So, you made your bed and planned to lie in it.

“Sure Benny" you smiled.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross x y/n #benny cross x you #the bikeriders x reader #austin butler x reader #benny the bikeriders

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cryptic--writing · 1 day ago

Note

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him.

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this. Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home.

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life.

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer.

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home.

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of.

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked, still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again.

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath.

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.”

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months.

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right?

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had.

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do.

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said.

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said.

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?”

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,”

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?”

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites.

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up.

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office.

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers.

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late?

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin.

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made.

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it.

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor.

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

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