#Florence Banner

[yourmilwaukeebeers]

andrew garfield being a girldad

( under the banner of heaven / we live in time )

[mirrorballabby]

Enough time has passed

[floilee]

Loki: I have an army!

Kate: We have Yelena!

Loki: You didn't mean the "Hulk"?

Bruce: Oh no, believe it, the big guy is scared to death of her.

Loki:

Natasha holding tears: I'm so proud of my little sister!

[pinkbirddiaries]

“Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + The Machine

[themini-romanoff]

I can take them both.....

Not in a fight

[finequeenbean]

Florence + The Machine’s song King fits Natasha Romanoff perfectly. So excited to be able to show y’all. 😌🫶🏻

If you haven’t listened to their Dance Fever album, you’re missing out. It’s so freaking good.

Side note: thanks for the follows and likes and reblogs!! Makes me want to make more content. :)

[abalathia]

[valenftcrush]

🕸 ∘ ✶ SOFTCORE, banners ─── ( edited by ValenftCrush )

Hi! If you want a graphic of mine, just have to go to this link, fill out the form and I will do it as soon as possible. DON'T STEAL OR REPOST .ᐟ ( wattpad ) ๑valenftcrush ( deviantart ) ๑valenftcrush

[tornrose24]

Had a bunch of random Marvel drawings in mind that I wanted to do.

I had this idea that my version of Gwen was actually cloned by Connors (this version of Curt is owned by @artistcaptainbendy) after the original died under certain circumstances. Though for added hilarity, she was actually the second clone because the first one... uh... didn’t turn out right. And yes, the first attempt clone IS a reference to Pizza Tower. Also I kind of missed drawing Max’s pre-Electro self.

After seeing Guardians of the Galaxy 3, I thought it’d be amusing but sweet if Rocket was a fan of Florence and the Machine. So why not make that happen here?

I also thought it’d be funny if a Hulk (this version also owned by artistcaptainbendy) threw someone threw the air for some reason (and go past people). After learning about the controversial and VERY stupid decision to kill off Kamala just to have a tragic twist in a Spiderman comic of all places, I figured that was the best reason to have that excuse.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

This Rotten Work Playlist: Lefstebany Acosta!

As @evelynhug0 so kindly requested, I'm going to release each of the main character playlists (and one for the main ship, Rachel and Daiyu) once a week leading up to the release of the book!

Fourth up is Lefstebany "Stebbie" Acosta. Though a Render by magical gift, she is damned if she will let anything disturb her pacifist values. The best friend of a hot-tempered Chosen One and in love with a man who thinks that Mountain Dew is the height of cuisine can sometimes make this difficult, not to mention having to survive a death tournament her freshman year of high school. Being the most well-adjusted of any of the graduates of the Academy of the Rising Sun doesn't mean that she doesn't deal of nightmares of her own; it just means that she's more able to call out Rachel and Zell when they start spiralling.

Excerpt:

Stebbie’s a Healer. Well, more accurately, she’s a Render: someone who can manipulate the insides of bodies, coaxing veins and tissues and cells to heal or fray further. Headmaster Nightbane had the same powers, though he used his very differently.

Stebbie’s nothing like the Headmaster. She hates violence. She loathes the idea of bringing harm to anyone, even those who hurt her. She refuses to use her powers for anything but healing, and as far as the Academy was aware, that’s all she was able to use it for. She was constantly kept at the bottom of the class in battle classes, thus preventing her from ever breaking into the top ranks of students despite her clear academic superiority. The Academy under Julien Nightbane treated healers like the lowest of the low, practically useless. Even Katalyn was considered higher than her, as Katalyn would at least participate in battle training. 

It rankled Stebbie, going from the top of her middle school class to so low at the Academy of the Rising Sun, but she refused to give up her pacifist values for anything. She made it through the Tournament entirely by her survival skills instead of by violence.

Her punk aesthetic actually comes from that attitude. Punk, Stebbie likes to tell Zell and I, is about revolting against the system by being kind, treating people better than the system wants you to. It’s about hanging fairy lights and clay calaveras skulls on the walls of the living room, about caring about those who no one else cares about.

@snazzy-hats-and-adhd @blufox3542 @neshatriumphs @khruschevshoe @weedpoop @thesirhandsome-tepalehuia @sillylittlecheeto @nefertittti @henrythepug @meet-me-behindthemall12 @aboutblankpages-blog-blog @artemisiaarm @profiterole-reads @marchionessdebrannas @harrietmjones @thearcaneuniversity @little-bloodied-angel @artemisbones @jacksope-lives @fleuranna @shehungthemoon @spacecatrainshell @celestedeluna @thefiresofpompeii @gerardway-jpeg @fleuranna @smokecloudsandrollingpapers @idealuk @aceumbrellaheroes @evelynhug0 @madhare0512 @fool-for-luv @nealmcclure @elposting @mikereads @corvidspectre @thanatosdetesreves @sapphicsigh @ameliapondmd @possumsmushroom

[f14fun]

dc it-girl (mv1) - chapter 1

synopsis: in which case y/n, an it-girl that hails from the united state's capital, washington dc, meets max verstappen in an unexpected occurence at the redbull showrun in her home city. both not knowing each other, immediately find themselves in a once-in-a-lifetime love story.

general info: !fem!poc!black-reader x mv1 faceclaim: asia monet ray + other girls from pinterest/insta!

smau + prose (3.3K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

things to note: yes, in this story i am changing the characters for a bit, i know that david coulthard was driving, but in this case we can pretend that that was max. also, he will be in dc for a publicity event for a week. please let me know if there is anything else you need me to clarify. happy reading! 💙📖💭

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yourusername

liked by florence.jwilliams, user1 and 119,012 others

yourusername: bad gyals thrive in dc

view comments:

florence.jwilliams: babes we looked so hot today xx

yourusername: i knowww, but i was dying like a bitch in the heat 🙄🙄

florence.jwilliams: might visit somewhere cold this summer j to get away from the sun tbh 😭

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Florence was always looking for shit.

She was always looking for shit for us to do, places to go, food to eat, but sometimes, it was a lot.

Like today. Although it was only the nineteenth of April, the sun was blaring down on the little city of D.C. (namely, the District of Columbia, for all of you non-natives) like an absolute bitch. And I, immune to alcohol poisoning, foot fungus, and slightly-immune to bad breath, was not absolutely not immune to the wrathful rays of the sun.

Zilch. Nada.

So when I originally left the house in a cardigan, I immediately went back in to change into a tank top and jorts. It was hot. I was hot. And Florence wanted to spend the whole day walking around the city doing God knows what.

That's how we ended up stumbling across a parade.

Every know and then when I would visit D.C., I would sometimes almost accidentally show up right in time for an event. Sometimes I happened to love the event, other times, I sometimes left, queasy, dizzy, and claustrophobic.

I wasn't sure what to make out of today's event.

At first, when looking from an outsider's perspective, it seemed as if I had walked into one large, large, cult meeting. Oh no.

Every one was adorned in shapes of navy, cheering, screaming, and worse of them all, holding a goddamn can of RedBull's Energy drink.

The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and caffeine, a cocktail potent enough to keep even the most exhausted of souls awake for days.

Banners fluttered wildly in the hands of fervent fans, each emblazoned with logos and slogans that screamed allegiance.

Vendors weaved through the throng, hawking more cans of the ubiquitous energy drink, their cries barely audible over the din.

Occasionally, a shower of confetti would rain down, sticking to the sweat-drenched skin of the masses, creating a mosaic of glittering chaos. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the raw energy of thousands of voices united in a singular, frenzied purpose.

Ew.

RedBull being one of my least favorite sodas (can you even call something you vehemently dislike a favorite at this point?) already made me additionally pissy.

So when Florence and I had just arrived at D.C. and walked towards Pennsylvania Avenue, it was too late for us to realize that the event was actually ending, and the crowd was dispersing.

Even as a girl who hails from the city, I do get quite nervous and claustrophobic around too many people. So to my utter horror, people from the flood of the RedBull cult were heading straight towards us, scattering like a pack of fleas.

Too late.

I had lost my tight grip (I swear I was holding on to her hand super duper tightly!) on Florence's hand, and we ended up getting separated from each other. Calling her name would be no use in this throng of people.

My heart pounded in my chest as I desperately scanned the sea of navy shapes, each person indistinguishable from the next in the dimming light.

Panic set in, and I could feel the beginnings of a cold sweat on the back of my neck. I tried to push my way through the crowd, but it felt like swimming against a relentless tide. People brushed past me, some nearly knocking me over in their haste to leave.

The overwhelming noise of their chatter, laughter, and the occasional burp of a RedBull can opening filled the air, making it impossible to concentrate.

It was gross. It was disgusting. I was disgusted.

I spun around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Florence’s distinctive red scarf, but all I saw were faceless masses. My phone! I fumbled in my pocket, my fingers trembling as I tried to pull it out without dropping it. Just as I managed to get a hold of it, someone bumped into me, and the phone slipped from my grasp, landing with a sickening thud on the pavement.

“Dammit!” I muttered under my breath, crouching down to retrieve it, praying it wasn’t shattered. As I picked it up, I glanced around again, my heart sinking. Florence was nowhere to be seen.

In this crowd of sickeningly electric people over an energy drink, I was dead. Six feet under. Tired, and I had just gotten to D.C..

I looked around in despair, realizing that I must have walked a few blocks without even noticing, my mind too frazzled by the chaos and my separation from Florence.

My phone was clutched tightly in my hand, my lifeline in this moment of utter confusion. I tried to call Florence, but there was no signal. "Damn this shitty data!" I cursed under my breath, feeling my frustration bubble over. The crowd seemed to close in around me, their excited chatter and laughter a stark contrast to my growing panic.

My fingers tapped frantically at the screen, hoping that maybe, just maybe, a bar of signal would appear and rescue me from this nightmare. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming, the kind that starts as a dull throb and quickly escalates into a pounding, relentless pain.

The one goddamn day I had left the house without my morning coffee and this shit decided to happen to me...

In a desperate attempt, I switched my phone to airplane mode and back again, praying for a miracle. But nothing changed. The crowd jostled me from all sides, pushing and pulling like a relentless tide, each shove adding to my rising sense of helplessness.

I glanced around, trying to find a familiar landmark or a quieter spot to regroup, but all I saw were waves of navy shapes and faces blurred by motion and anxiety.

"Florence!" I shouted again, my voice barely carrying above the din. The energy drink-fueled chaos was suffocating, a cacophony of noise and movement that seemed designed to disorient and overwhelm. I caught sight of a bench a few feet away and made a beeline for it, hoping to gain some semblance of stability.

I was in a twisted, sick, alternative fever dream where my nightmare fuel was in fact RedBull™, ha ha ha.

Whatever, I could probably find her somewhere around the city, I mean, it wasn't that big...right?

So there I was, in D.C., by myself. Not like I wanted to go in the first place that morning, but whatever.

Lost in thought, I was just wandering around, not really concentrating on anything in particular. Horrible city instincts, might I add. Because of my absentmindedness, I clearly did not notice when I walked into someone.

More like someone's RedBull drink walked into me.

I could not escape the nightmare fuel fever dream RedBull™ agenda, couldn't I.

Now I was extremely pissed off. The icy liquid soaked through my shirt, a cold shock that made me gasp and snap back to reality.

Looking up, I was two milliseconds away from berating whoever spilled this devil-drink all over me. But my harsh words died on the tip of my tongue the very instant that I looked up.

I was looking at a man. But not just any regular man. An extremely handsome man.

His startling icy turquoise eyes connected with mine. His stubble, a little overgrown, looked so hot. His mousy, brown touseled hair gave him a nonchalant yet strangely put-together look, and I was all in for it. And I, a girl who never stops talking, I was rendered speechless.

From the first glance, everything about him seemed perfect.

Except for the fact that he just spilled RedBull all over my white tank top and he was even wearing RedBull merch, from head to toe. Like who does that? What fashion choices...

He gave me a sheepish smile, clearly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice smooth and sincere. "I didn't see you there." His soft, European (?) accent lulled me to silence in an instance.

I wanted to be mad, I really did, but his charm was disarming. "It's fine," I managed to say, trying to suppress the butterflies in my stomach. "Accidents happen."

"Let me help you," he offered, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a pack of Kleenex tissues. He reached out towards me, seemingly wanting to put his hands on my shirt.

"Oh, oh, that's okay," I said, freaking out internally. If this handsome European man touched me that close to my boobs I might just have to propose to him that very instant.

"No, no, no, I insist," he said, his accent getting thicker, clearly not understanding my drift. He was too handsome to be doing this shit, I swear.

He came closer towards me, and I instinctively backed up a bit more. Not catching my drift (once again), he took a larger stride towards me. I, unprepared for this wild encounter, didn't step backwards in time, so the sexy European man in all of his glory, collided into me.

And down we went.

It must've been a funny sight to see from the average passerby. Them just minding their business. Maybe walking their dog. Or perhaps getting a morning lattee.

Bam.

Lying in the middle of the street are two people. Just there.

I would've hit my head on the pavement and probably cracked my scull wide open if not for the RedBull man. He had cradled one arm around my head, the other wrapped tightly around my waist. I think (?) he was helping me to try to stop the fall.

To no avail, we still fell.

What he disregarded, though, was when he tried to stop the fall, was the reason why we were falling in the first place. As grabbed my head as we fell, he also let go of the RedBull can. So now, free in the wind and open towards the chaos of the District of Columbia, the RedBull can fell.

Fell where? You may ask. It fell over us. It fell everywhere. The sticky, icky drink splattered across both of our faces, its cold, sugary droplets clinging to our skin like a caffeinated rain shower. The can, released from his grasp, seemed to defy gravity for a split second, twisting in the air before gravity's inevitable pull sent it crashing down.

The can hit the ground with a soft thud, its contents erupting in a fizzy explosion of energy. The liquid sprayed outward in all directions, catching us both off guard.

Streams of RedBull arced through the air, some landing on nearby pedestrians who stared in disbelief, while others formed tiny puddles on the sidewalk, reflecting the cloudy yet impeccably humid D.C. sky above.

For a moment, him and I laid on top of each other (weird and freaky, I know), frozen in a tableau of absurdity, our faces now adorned with streaks of sticky red liquid.

A passerby, caught in the crossfire, chuckled as they hurried past, muttering something about needing to wash their dog now. It was a scene straight out of a slapstick comedy, and despite my initial shock and embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh along with him.

And you may think, oh wow, that is horrible. That must hurt. Your joints, your back, your legs. And to that I say, yes, yes, and very much absolutely yes.

The very sexy (slightly less sexy, now that we were mangled on the disgusting sidewalk) European man was laying on me with all his bodyweight, and it very much hurt.

To make matters worse, our faces collided. You ask, where did your faces specifically collide?

Our lips. Our lips collided, and they touched.

And me like the dumbass I am, when I see a face coming towards mine unexpectedly, eyes closed, and especially a face who's male.... I puckered up.

Yes, I was stupid.

Now, I was on the floor, sticky, and kissing a stranger.

Out of context, that sounds like a funny and strange sentence. But this whole scenario in the first place was out of context, so bear with me. I mean, how often do you end up on the ground, covered in energy drink, and accidentally kissing a stranger in the middle of the day?

It was like something out of a quirky rom-com (okay, more like the evil-twisted beginning to one of those abduction horror stories grown-ups tell you when you are a kid), except I never imagined I'd be the protagonist.

But in that split second, with the taste of RedBull lingering on our lips and the chaos of the city swirling around us, there was an inexplicable spark. It wasn't just the caffeine rush; it was a moment of shared laughter and unexpected connection amidst the sticky mess.

In this moment, I was either going to die because he was about to kidnap me, or sheerly die out of embarrassment. Or, I would will myself to die, this was not happening to me.

He pulled back, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he asked, his accent making his words sound even more sincere.

I tried to laugh it off, but the awkwardness of the situation was hard to shake. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… sticky." I wiped at my face, feeling the sugary residue cling to my skin.

He helped me to my feet, brushing off his clothes with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to… I mean, that was not… you know," he stammered, clearly flustered.

"It's okay," I reassured him, despite feeling mortified myself. "Really, it's fine. Just a little... unexpected."

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. He winced, as he realized that his fingers as well as his hair smelled like RedBull. "Well, this is definitely not how I imagined meeting someone today."

"Me neither," I admitted, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and amusement. "But hey, at least it's a memorable encounter."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I guess this is one way to make an impression. I'm Max, by the way. Professional RedBull spiller and accidental kisser."

I laughed, the tension easing. "Nice to meet you, Max. I'm Y/N. Apparently, I'm your victim for today."

"Victim? More like an unsuspecting hero," he replied with a playful grin. "Seriously, though, I'm really sorry about all this. Can I at least buy you a coffee to make up for it?"

"Well, considering you saved me from cracking my skull open, I think I can let you off the hook," I said, trying to sound casual while still feeling a bit flustered. "And coffee sounds good."

"Great! I know a place just around the corner. And I promise, no more RedBull," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. (Yeah, the biggest lie I was ever told. Do not trust sexy men, they are all liars)

As we walked towards the café, the awkwardness of our first meeting began to fade into a shared sense of humor about the absurdity of the situation. Max continued to apologize, making light-hearted comments about his job with RedBull and his less-than-perfect coordination skills.

"You know," Max started with a grin, "I guess I should add 'professional accidental kisser' to my resume now."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not sure how many job openings there are for that, but you'd definitely stand out."

"Well, it's all about making a memorable first impression, right?" Max replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Definitely memorable," I agreed, taking a playful jab. "Though next time, maybe aim for something less sticky?"

Max feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, it's not every day you get to meet someone while wearing your finest RedBull cologne."

"I have to admit," I said with a smirk, "you wear it well."

Max chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Hey, it's an acquired scent. You'll get used to it."

"And here I thought coffee was supposed to be the only thing brewing today," I teased, glancing at him from the corner of my eye.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Who says we can't have a double shot of excitement?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful flirtation, feeling myself relax even more in his company. "Well, as long as it doesn't involve any more airborne beverages, I'm all in."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. "Are you saying you didn't enjoy our little RedBull shower?"

"Let's just say I prefer my caffeine in a cup," I replied with a grin, sipping my coffee and meeting his gaze over the rim. "So, Max, what other talents do you have besides professional beverage mishaps?"

He leaned back, pretending to ponder the question seriously. "Well, I can juggle three balls at once. And I'm pretty good at making people laugh, unintentionally, most of the time."

"I can see that," I said, laughing softly. "You've definitely brightened up my day, unintentionally." Continuing, I said, "I was lost in that throng, no, no, no, cult of people wearing RedBull on Penn Ave. It was absolutely horrible, never again."

He guffawed loudly, so loudly, at my slightly funny joke, I for a second, thought that there was an underlying joke in my statement that I had not caught (spoiler alert, there was).

Max guffawed loudly, his laughter infectious. "Oh, I'm sorry," he managed between chuckles, "but you have to admit, it makes for a great story."

"You find this funny?" I asked, feigning offense while trying not to laugh myself. "I was traumatized by energy drink enthusiasts!"

"Hey, at least you made it out alive," Max quipped, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. "And here you are, sharing your harrowing tale with a fellow survivor."

"Survivor?" I raised an eyebrow, pretending to assess him critically. "Or secret admirer of RedBull?"

Max shrugged, his smile mischievous. "Maybe a bit of both. It's an acquired taste, you know."

"You are just saying that as a cult member, I can't really trust what you say still. I am so sorry, but you could not pay me to drink that can of dog piss," I jokingly rolled my eyes.

Max burst into laughter, his amusement filling the air around us. "Dog piss? That's a new one! Trust me, I'm not here to convert you," he said, grinning widely. "But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here with a fresh can and an open mind."

"Hmmm... okay," I reluctantly said. (Yeah, fat chance you would get me to drink RedBull willingly)

"That only made him laugh louder. "So I've heard," Max replied with a grin, clearly taking my comment in good humor.

I chuckled, feeling a sense of relief that he wasn't offended by my playful jab. "I mean, it takes confidence to rock the RedBull look from head to toe," I added, trying to soften my teasing with a smile.

"Exactly!" Max exclaimed, his laughter subsiding into a grin. "You've got to commit to the brand, right?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, nodding. "I have to hand it to you, though. Not many people can pull off such a bold fashion statement."

"Well, thank you," Max said, his tone light and playful. "I guess you could say I'm all about making a statement."

"I can see that," I replied, unable to resist teasing him a bit more. "I suppose next time we meet, I should wear something equally attention-grabbing to match your style."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "Please do. It'll make for an even more interesting encounter."

Everytime he spoke, he made direct eye contact with me. It was so sexy and seductive, and I don't even think that Max knew what he was doing was hella attractive.

I, not immune to anything today I guess, fell hard for a stranger that I had just met.

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yourusername posted on her story

📍washington dc 🎵 see you again (ft. kali uchis) - tyler the creator

view replies

florence.jwilliams: girl we got separated and first thing you do is be big backed??? be so fr... where are u

yourusername: on a date! 😁

florence.jwilliams: oh!-

florence.jwilliams: don't be selfish and bring me back a iced coffee w almond milk and a croissant pls.

yourusername: croissant 👌🏾, beverage 👎🏾, i've had enuf of beverages and spilling today. 😭

florence.jwilliams: oop, tea

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author's note: a little short but sweet! ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾 part two will be out sometime within the next two weeks, comment if you want to be added to the taglist! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[drarryspecificrecs]

H/D Wireless 2023 : (fics only)

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(you) find me when the lights go down by @beyondtheclose [T, 1k] ♫ save me from the monster in my head (2020) by Welshly Arms

About This Place by @academicdisasterfic [E, 10k] ♫ You And I (2011) by Lady Gaga

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Lover, Where Do You Live? by @dodgerkedavra [E, 38k] ♫ Lover, Where Do You Live? (2014) by Highasakite

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Vipera Berus by Justlikewriting [M, 20k] ♫ Just Pretend (2022) by Bad Omens

The Waiting by @oknowkiss [E, 43k] --- ART by @babooshkart This Tornado Loves You (2009) by Neko Case

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w [E, 21k] --- ART by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm The Christmas Song (2011) by The Raveonettes

Weapons of Massive Consumption by @sandervansunshine [E, 38k] ♫ The Fear (2009) by Lily Allen

What is this feeling? by @fanficandlit [E, 4k] ♫ What Is This Feeling? (2003) by Idina Menzel & Kristin Chenoweth

What We Left Behind by @peachydreamxx [E, 32k] ♫ The Day We Caught The Train (1996) by Ocean Colour Scene

—

✔ other fests in 2023 ✔ fests in other years ✔ H/D Wireless : 2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019 | 2018 | 2017

[moriwori]

dividers/banners by @anitalenia, thank you!

᭪─── Timothée Imagine but like not an Imagine ˎˊ˗

warnings: mentions of WW1 (not very raunchy or much historically but still a precaution), implied sexual intercourse but no details, possibly unrealistic adaptation of timmie :)

I wanna shift for Timothée because he reminds me of old-fashioned love, especially because he has French background and I just know he's a lover boy. The type to struggle to keep his hands to himself, to feel helpless if he can't get to you, or even share a laugh with you.

Arguments shared between the two of you would be short and end in a peaceful resolution because he would be damned if he ever let you two go to bed angry at each other. He'd love you like he's known you for all his life.

You probably met him on set, whatever you'd work as. Something about you captivated him so much that he needed to talk to you. You'd probably hear about previous times that he has flirted with a female worker but it was different, he didn't touch you as he would with someone like Florence or wrap his arms around you, no. He wants to preserve you until you're truly his.

You did distance yourself though, scared of getting your hopes up only to be met with a fabrication of a potential love between you two ripped to shreds but, you didn't see any of that. He knew what the headlines said about him and he just prayed you didn't see him that way. Eventually, you were "doomed" to succumb to his attempt and now you lie in bed every day with slender limbs bent around your waist.

And of course, nights would end with gentle yet passionate lovemaking until the early breaks of the morning sun. Giggles in the bathtub, conversation while taking care of his coiled hair, rubbing pink Vaseline on his cracked lips (of course sneaking a sweet kiss)

I imagine him as a baker, or something like that receiving news of his mandatory service for WW1. He couldn't bear to leave you at home with your newborn and he expressed this through lengthy letters sent to your estate. He sent anything he could, lace from his boots, a leather bag he picked up, or stale bread that he had taken a bite of stating that he wanted to share at least one meal with you while apart.

[seaglassmelody]

Six Song Soundtrack - Sabriel "Sabi" Ingellvar

Thank you for the tags @thedissonantverses and @mythals-whore!! I've always wanted to do one of these but I never take the time because music choices are so hard for me!!

I take these way too seriously....

Rules: make a post with links to music and/or lyrics describing six things/events about your OC/story.

In no particular order:

Your Bones - Of Monsters and Men (War of the Banners+Tearstone Isle)

The beginning of this one is War of the Banners (Troubled spirits on my chest, where they laid to rest-) and the end is Tearstone Isle (Said goodbye to you, my friend, as the fire spread-). The song overall is accepting the consequences of her actions.

Weight of Living pt. 1 - Bastille (Regret Prison)

Can you stand the person you've become?

When you just can't shake the heavy weight of living.

No Choir - Florence + the Machine (Her feelings for Lucanis)

But the loneliness never left me I always took it with me But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company

One of Sabriel's defining traits is a soul-deep loneliness that she'll never be able to rid herself of, but connections with others ease it (with Lucanis most of all).

Why Am I Like This? - Orla Gartland (Pre-canon in the Necropolis)

Maybe I'm an old soul trapped in a young body. Maybe you don't really want me there at your birthday party.

The sense of alienation from others feeds into the loneliness at her core. She tries hard to be liked, to be useful, to be kind, but she can't shake the feeling that there's still something wrong with her.

Is It Any Wonder? - Keane (Dealing with Solas)

And now I look a fool for thinking you were on my side.

Sabi wanted to trust Solas. She wanted to believe she could change his mind, that she could earn his respect. She thinks she can understand him, but at the same time she wonders if she does at all.

What Will You Leave Behind? - Max LL (Her relationship to the Veilguard)

I'll take your hand and guide you through All the steps one takes to move on to A place, a world unseen to us all But it's ok, we'll be together

Mourn Watch teachings will always be the foundation of Sabi's relationships, and her greatest guiding purpose is to help people move through pain and grief.

It's a little off-meaning for the song but I like to think "a place, a world unseen to us all" is more of the future, an uncertain life after loss, where they can support each other through whatever comes.

----

Tagging @antivan-sprig, @tinyshoopuf, @therivercrow, @thecraftybaroness, @davrinsleftpectoral, and @erin-unknown if you haven't done it/want to!! I love being introduced to new music :)

[oldnumberseven]

the beast you've made of me

When Alcide Herveaux takes over as Shreveport’s new packmaster, werebitches lay themselves down at his feet—except for one, who’s hell-bent on running away from the animal he brings out in her. 

Inspired by ‘Howl’ by Florence and the Machine + Black Swan and Mirror!lander from The Boys

AO3

Tags/themes: MDNI/18+. NSFW. true blood, packmaster!Alcide/fem OC, evil twin, horror, swearing, size difference, non-negotiated predator/prey kink (but still consensual), dom Alcide, bratty OC, unprotected explicit smut (use protection irl please), multiple orgasms, aftercare

Word Count: 6.7k

Author’s note: well, this was an idea I had for Kinktober that I didn’t finish on time and then it turned into something completely different. Thank you very much to the True Blood discord community for beta-ing this and @blindmagdalena for pred/prey reference material inspo. I’ve never done a one shot before and I tried a new writing style, so this was hella hard for me. But enjoy! There’s not enough Alcide stuff out there. 

Credits: I made the opening banner, but I found the images and gifs on Google. If they are yours, please let me know and I’ll add credit! Divider by thecouncilmakes.

Henrietta skidded to a stop in her driveway, her truck tires screeching as loose gravel flew in every direction. Her heart was pounding—boom, boom!—but she didn’t stop to catch her breath. Instead, she sprinted towards her house to throw a few belongings into a suitcase. 

She had to get away. Before it was too late.

Her clammy, shaking hands dove into her drawers and pulled out whatever was at the top. A pair of nice jeans, an old sports bra, mismatched socks, a black hoodie, a lacy pair of panties; she wasn’t thinking clearly. Everything was a blur until she looked up and caught herself in the mirror attached to the top of her wooden dresser. 

She paused for the first time since the fight, taking in her reflection. A few bits of long brown hair had escaped her bun; her hazel eyes were full of fear. Then the lights flickered. And the Henrietta staring back at her started moving independently, her full lips curling into a sinister smirk. Her blood ran cold when she recognized the wolf inside her. 

The bloodthirsty beast she’d been running from. 

It would always be a part of her; her parents were weres and had passed their supernatural genetics onto her. Yet, she hated her feral urges and had repressed them ever since she was a teenager. They terrified her and threatened her illusion of control, her dream of having a quiet existence. Henrietta only registered with Shreveport’s pack after she moved there from her hometown of Houston because she’d heard how much lone wolves provoked the old packmaster, Marcus. His successor, JD, was no different. She went to gatherings because the rules dictated it (not because she wanted to) and kept to the edges to stay out of the spotlight. 

She shifted during the full moon when she had no choice, but when she occasionally caught the other side of her in the mirror, it was easy to walk away and forget it existed.  

But not tonight. 

“You really think you can keep me in, darlin’?” 

It was the first time she’d ever heard the wolf speak. Her Southern drawl was thick as molasses with each vowel lengthened. 

“Go a-away,” Henrietta stuttered. “I don’t want you here.” 

“Oh, but I think you do,” her twin chuckled. She placed her hands on the dresser and hunched forward, tilting her head. 

“No. I don’t.”  

“Yes. You do. Because I’ll make sure you get him.”  

The wolf’s eyes flashed and Henrietta jumped out of her skin, her arm smacking against the wood in front of her. She inhaled sharply, cradled her hand to her chest and looked away from the mirror as she tried to fight the scenes from earlier in the night flashing through her brain. JD calling a mandatory meeting she couldn’t ignore, stringing up a vampire, pouring his blood into cups so the pack could drink, Alcide appearing out of nowhere to challenge him for a second time, the way he’d kicked the absolute shit out of JD, blood everywhere until he finally snapped his neck, his eyes glowing— 

Henrietta shuddered; her reflection’s smirk returned. 

“I don’t want Alcide.” 

“Liar, liaaaaaar!” came the sing-song reply. “You’ve had a crush ever since you laid eyes on that sweet fella. Although he wasn’t that sweet tonight. And you loved that.” 

It was true. Watching her kindred spirit go from a lone wolf to a dominant packmaster had ignited something deeper within Henrietta. The goosebumps spreading across her skin, the way her heart jumped to her throat … that wasn’t fear. That was an intense, carnal need. She wanted him to claim her as his werebitch, throw her down, ravage the fuck out of her—

“Stop it.” She didn’t know if she was talking to herself or the wolf. 

“You want him.” The face in the mirror grinned like a madwoman. “Accept it.”  

Henrietta crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. 

“He wouldn’t want you,” she challenged. “He’s different.” 

The wolf threw her head back, let out a barking laugh and replied, “Yeah? And how’s that ‘normal girl’ routine working for you so far, hmm?”  

Henrietta gulped, not wanting to admit that he’d barely ever spoken to her. 

“Newsflash, honey. Alcide likes feisty. Debbie, Rikki too, lord. And let’s face it, all them other bitches swarming him after the fight are stronger than you. You need me. Cuz I’ll show him a damn good time.” Her twin snapped her pointy teeth and let out a low, hungry growl to drive her point home. 

Henrietta immediately turned away. Although the beast had her face, it was nothing like her meek, human secretary side. No, it was unruly and violent. A hairy, grotesque killer and the opposite of feminine. Alcide couldn’t want that. No one wanted that. 

Still, she came back to the mirror. Because after seeing his raw and unfiltered side tonight, maybe she was wrong. Maybe he did want the wolf. JD had a thing for weak, scrawny little things, not Alcide. He protected them, but he didn’t sleep with them. And God, now that she had stopped lying to herself, she desperately wanted to sleep with him. 

“Yeah, that’s right, look at me,” the mirror encouraged. “Look at me.” 

As much as Henrietta wanted to keep packing, she couldn’t. Her gaze was glued to the reflective glass, hypnotized by the thing she’d long kept in a cage. The side of her she refused to accept. 

“Come on, Hen.” A taunt her brother used when she was being a little chicken shit. “Let me out. Let him see the real you. The one you’re meant to be.” 

The offer was tempting beyond belief. No more hiding, no more dual personalities; the secretary and wolf would be one. Instinctually, Henrietta’s hand reached out toward her reflection, longing for it to be her reality. But the fantasy cracked when her fingers touched the glass and her human senses kicked in. Her vacant stare quickly morphed into a fearful look. 

No. No! The wolf had to stay locked away. For good. 

Her twin lunged forward, but Henrietta’s panicked reflexes were faster. Her hand gripped the side of the mirror, and with a forceful grunt, she ripped it from the dresser and threw it to the ground to destroy the connection. It shattered upon impact, shards of glass scattering across the floor. Yet, she caught the wolf’s hungry eyes in one of the pieces and could hear a threatening laugh bouncing around the room. 

Silly human. It’s going to take more than that.  

No! The beast was still free! Henrietta yelped, her back hitting the wall behind her. She took a few raspy, bewildered breaths and didn’t stay put for long. She grabbed her suitcase, even though she wasn’t done packing, and ran back to her truck. 

She had to leave. Now. 

She yanked the driver’s side door open and hopped into the front seat, quickly turning the keys in the ignition. She avoided the rearview mirror at all costs and backed out of the driveway, peeling out of her property. The truck was soon flying down the dark country roads and her nerves were shot as she pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. She aimed to hightail it south to Highway 20 and flicked her left turn signal in anticipation. 

Tick! Tick! Tick! 

But when Henrietta came to the stop sign, her foot stayed on the gas and she rolled through the intersection. Wait, huh? No. No, no. She was going back to Texas. She was leaving! Her brain screamed at her to turn, but her hands didn’t move, keeping her straight. 

Tick! Tick! Tick! 

It was like she’d been drugged; she could sense everything that was happening even though she wasn’t in control of her body. The slow country ballad playing on the radio drowned out her internal screams. 

Tick! Tick! Tick!

It wasn’t until Henrietta saw a sign for Caddo Lake that she realized what was happening. She was retracing her route from earlier that evening, the one she took to comply with JD’s mandatory meeting request. A place where the rest of the pack would likely still be running wild with their new packmaster. 

Alcide. 

It was like she awoke from a nightmare with a sudden jolt; the secretary was finally driving again. Her right foot slammed on the brake—causing the truck to swerve out of control—and she prayed for her life when it threw her back into her seat and drifted to the side of the road. When she finally came to a stop, her forgotten left turn signal was still on, mocking her alongside the wolf’s laugh. 

Tick! Tick! Tick!

Henrietta flipped the signal off and gulped down deep oxygen pulls to calm herself down. Tears pricked the edge of her eyes. The truck’s cabin quickly became too small, too confined, and she turned off the engine and spilled out into the night air to combat her claustrophobia. Her legs took her in circles; she walked in the middle of the road and her escape plan fell to the wayside. 

But when a loud, piercing howl echoed through the woods, she froze, her eyes growing wide. Instinctively, she looked at the truck’s side mirror and caught the wolf’s stare.  

That wasn’t me, darlin’. Looks like you’ve got company. 

It had to be someone from the pack; they must have heard her almost crash. Henrietta bolted back to the truck to flee, yet when her fingers curled under the door handle and desperately pulled, nothing moved. 

“Come on, come on!” 

She whined as she fiddled with the handle again, but deep down, she knew she’d left the keys in the ignition and the truck’s automatic locks had kicked in the moment she’d shut the door behind her. Stupid, stupid! Why did she have to be so paranoid and keep that setting on? It’s not like anyone would steal the decaying heap of scrap metal. 

Suddenly, a shiver ran down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. Her eyes nervously darted around until they landed on something moving further up the road: a white blur coming closer and closer. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the threat. 

It was him. There was no mistaking his unique pelt. 

Even though her inner voice was yelling for her to do something, anything, Henrietta remained frozen on the spot as Alcide caught up to her and slowed to a jaunty trot. Her hands shook; her stomach churned; she couldn’t breathe. More memories from the fight emerged, distracting her even further—Ain’t no such thing as too much V, That’s enough JD!, punches flying, Alcide’s vicious and powerful grunts, the way she started to lose her composure, the soft mewls that involuntarily tumbled out of her mouth, her body quivering with impatient longing … 

… which swiftly returned when he transformed into his naked human form and began closing the distance between them with a swagger that only a packmaster could carry. Her blood sang for him and only him and she began to ache between her legs, something that felt wrong alongside her shock and dread. Her dilated eyes drifted over his chiseled physique and the wolf let out a ravenous, wanton howl. 

Well, well, well. Look at the dick on this one. All the better to fuck me with— 

“Henrietta,” he interrupted. “What are you doing here?” 

The right answer, of course, was the truth. When Alcide laid down the new laws (respect the pack, no more V, no more harming the innocent) and said if someone didn’t like it, they had 24 hours to leave or face him, she’d chosen to run. Not because she disagreed with his stance but because she couldn’t face him. What he brought out in her. Yet, here she was, desperately wanting to drag her nails down his back. 

But Henrietta couldn’t find the words to tell him; she was too rooted in her fear, her conflicting hunger for him. And so, she watched Alcide make his own inferences and determine that if she’d left and come back, then she wanted a fight. A challenge to his new rule. Something he couldn’t have. 

He took a menacing step towards her, his monstrous body eclipsing her just over five feet tall frame. Henrietta inhaled a sharp breath in response. She didn’t want to fight him and he, in turn, seemed poised to kill her to protect the pack. Her eyes widened in terror. A tight knot formed in her stomach, pushing aside her desire. She moved backward when he took another step and hit the side of her truck, finding nowhere to go. 

“Go on,” he growled. “Make your move.” 

And with a flash, those damn yellow eyes were back, threatening to tear her apart. 

The wolf panted, salivated, whined, scratched, growled and yearned to be free. To meet Alcide’s beast now that he was so fucking close. And the secretary almost let herself go. Yet, just like during the pack fight, her human fear still had an iron grip on the wolf’s cage to keep it shut. She couldn’t let herself dissolve into madness. She needed to exert control to keep herself on track, hold herself back from running over the cliff into the unknown. 

She still panicked, suddenly mobile. Because when it came to fight or flight, Henrietta had a long history of running instead of standing her ground. She didn’t have the size, courage or strength to win. Alcide’s arms stretched out to grab her, but her dainty body did her a favor for once. She managed to duck out of the way and dart around the truck to sprint off into the woods behind it, her heart thumping against her rib cage and threatening to explode. 

You stupid fucking human! You think you can win against him?

The wolf had a point. In a blink of an eye, Alcide had transformed back into an animal and was hot on her tail, gaining more ground every second. Her two feet were no match for his four paws. But Henrietta kept running and running and running, from him and the beast within her. She couldn’t give in; it would be a betrayal of the entire life she’d built. 

Sweat poured down her face as she kept up the pace despite her stamina hitting a plateau. She knew she couldn’t outrun him forever and her eyes searched for some sort of advantage. A ditch she could lure him into. A tree she could climb. Oh God, anything to get away from him! 

Yet, Alcide reminded her he was no simple animal; he was a werewolf, specifically one who’d taken V earlier. He’d already killed once tonight and showed he’d do it again in service of his pack when he let out a deep snarl and snapped his teeth just shy of her calf. Henrietta’s surprised yelp echoed through the swampland trees. 

LET ME OUT, BITCH! OR YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!  

No! NO! She didn’t want to die! She wanted to live, get away from Louisiana and start again. Blend into the background and stay human. Human! She couldn’t submit! When Alcide lunged for her again though, the wolf slammed against the cage bars to save her life and the secretary’s grip couldn’t hold her back anymore. 

Her animal broke free. 

Henrietta’s primal instincts took full control. She became airborne and burst out of her clothes, her bones cracking and reforming themselves. She fluidly landed with four legs and hit the ground running with a sick thrill, rejoicing as her innermost wants and desires rose to the surface and stayed there with no resistance in sight. 

FUUUUUUCK! It had been decades since she’d transformed outside the full moon. She felt feral, whole. Giddy and relieved to be free from that ever-present nausea that gurgled around in her stomach when she was trapped in her human form. She wanted to stop and let out a roaring howl that could shake the entire state. 

But she didn’t have time to revel in her newly found wild edge; Alcide was still hot on her tracks, unfazed by her transformation. No matter. Now that the secretary had been banished to the backseat where she belonged, the wolf could handle him. 

She learned from her earlier size advantage by the truck and sharply cut to the left, catching him by surprise. He slammed into a tree and left a hefty dent in the trunk before racing to catch up with her. The two wolves scampered through the backwoods and her movements became more agile and playful as she dodged his advances, even shaking her rump a few times to entice him. And once, his resolve seemed to weaken in response to her wiles before he snapped back in and kept up the grueling hunt. 

But she was careful not to get too far away. Henrietta wanted to be caught. 

She could tell Alcide was getting frustrated and intentionally slowed, letting him get deliciously close before she faked getting clipped by a passing log and tumbled to the ground, her limbs flying in all directions. She made sure to land on her back to show her belly, a sign of submission in female wolves. Alcide took the bait and immediately pounced. His paws landed on her shoulders, pinning her to the ground, and when he moved to take a bite out of her neck, Henrietta switched back to her human body in full surrender. 

All part of the game. If she stayed a wolf, he’d likely be swept up in his animalistic tendencies and kill her. She knew she could play to his human side if she showed a little pale skin. 

The ploy worked; Alcide paused, his teeth bared and chest heaving with heavy breaths. Even though he’d relented, a deep growl rumbled from his throat to show her who was still in charge. 

The secretary threatened to come back to life now that Henrietta was in her human form, but the wolf took revenge and threw her into the cage that had housed her for years. Locked her away so she couldn’t interfere. Not this time. Not when she had Alcide right where she wanted him. Instead, Henrietta focused on the large white wolf bearing over her, his yellow eyes dilated almost black. She took in his natural musk full of spice and earth and shuddered as her toes began to curl. She wanted him to possess her, she was dripping wet already, holy shit— 

Alcide took in a deep sniff, the smell of her arousal assaulting him now that her fear had fully melted away. He tilted his head in surprise and returned to his own human body, although he still caged her against the ground with his hands. 

“You’re enjoying this,” he remarked quizzically. She let out a barking laugh. 

“Why, of course I am, darlin’!” Her eyes never broke contact with his as she tilted her chin up with glee and swiped her nails across his torso to give him hefty scratch marks. Still acting like unwilling prey to turn him on. 

Alcide recoiled momentarily in confusion, never seeing this side of her before. But when she licked her lips and gave him a ‘you better fuck me right now, you filthy animal’ look, he understood and decided to give in to one of the rewards of being a packmaster, as she’d hoped he might. He did have a thing for crazy bitches, after all. In one swift motion, he grabbed her hands and kept them over her head, a smirk not far behind. 

“Stay still.” 

There was no way in hell she would when his knees were flush up against the outside of her thighs. Their skin contact was so intoxicating; Henrietta craved more of it, hot with anticipation. Fuck, his enormous manhood was just hanging there too, waiting for her to do something. She canted her hips upwards, lightly brushing against it before Alcide responded with force, clamping his legs to keep her from moving.   

His mouth hovered right next to her ear and an amused tut escaped his lips. “Does your master need to teach you a lesson? To behave? ”  

This was her dream. An absolutely smoking hot packmaster—someone she’d been salivating over for months—was naked as the day he was born and so was she, trapped underneath him with nowhere to go. Oh, the fun they were going to have. The secretary only had simple vanilla sex and the wolf knew this would be anything but. 

“Go ahead and try, big boy.” 

The resistance spurred him on and Henrietta cried out in surprise when he broke the tender skin of her neck to mark his territory. The pressure from his mouth was sharp, strong and sensual. Better than she could have imagined. She let out a husky moan when Alcide’s tongue licked a perverted line up to her earlobe and caught it between his teeth with a tug. 

“You’ll do as I say,” he commanded, inhaling her scent. 

“Make me,” she taunted right back. 

His onslaught became relentless and unyielding; his bite moved back down her neck and left marks on her shoulder, collar bone and finally, her breast. Henrietta’s back arched (fuck, fuck, fuck —that felt gooooooood ) and he forcefully gathered both of her wrists into his left hand before his right pushed her ribcage back to the ground. 

“I said stay still.” 

Fine. Fine! She could do that for now; she needed him to keep going. Because a debauched desire was building inside her the more they played their game and fuck, it needed a release. His mouth found her chest again and caught one of her nipples between his lips as a reward for her submission … until she couldn’t help but disobey and keen for things to go faster. It was simply too fun to antagonize him. 

“Be quiet. Or I’ll make you,” he said gruffly, his commanding packmaster tone returning and driving her crazy. It spurred her to resist again. She wriggled against his hold and her ragged breaths became louder and louder as he turned his attention to her other breast. She pushed him even further with a soft “fuck!” and Alcide finally abandoned his task, capturing her mouth with his to force her to be quiet. 

Henrietta greedily savored his heated kiss, his dominating tongue smothering her cries; she lost herself in his flavor as he devoured her whole. Mmmmmmm. But when his teeth hastily scraped against her tongue, she sprang into action and rushed upwards, biting down on his bottom lip hard. He began to pull back and she refused to let go, a hungry growl escaping as she continued to tug. 

Alcide’s hand grabbed her jaw and a surge of that familiar need jolted through her. She relented, letting go of his lip and nestling back onto the ground. Henrietta expected him to withhold as punishment for her outburst but was surprised by his next move.  

“I’ll have to try something more drastic. To make you obey.” 

He let go of her chin, forcefully shoved her knees apart and buried his face in her cunt with a snarl. 

Henrietta gasped—an incredulous smile bursting across her face—and her eyes began to roll back into her head, her lashes fluttering as his tongue flicked against her clit. Her body jerked in response to one particularly furious swirl and Alcide’s dominant hands dug into her hip bones to keep her rooted to the spot. His reminder that while she had more freedom, he was still in control. She had to behave for him. Of course, that made her writhe even further, but his grip was too strong and her own hands clenched the dirt beneath her as she held on for dear life. Each lick, each lap fed her hunger while simultaneously making her crave more. 

And without a warning or announcement, he gave her more; two of his fingers pushed inside her and Henrietta bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a moan. An explosive pulse ripped through her, quickly followed by another one that was just as w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l. Alcide’s mouth still teased her clit while he snuck in a third and worked her open as he pumped in and out. Crooking his fingers to find that spot that made her quiver. 

More pulses shot through her until she couldn’t hold back any longer and her body gave way. A flash of white light streaked across her eyelids as she came and she sighed, melting into the earth shortly afterwards. She didn’t get a moment to bask in the afterglow and drink in the luxurious heat spreading across her skin, though. 

“Again,” Alcide ordered. 

He pounced, quickly moving up her body and using one of his hands to thrust his hard cock into her entrance. Despite the earlier work with his fingers, it still felt like he was splitting her in two. A delightful shock that rendered her speechless. She gulped as she adjusted to his size and his face—her slick still clinging to his beard—hovered over hers. He licked the edges of his canines; he knew she was struggling to fight back with each snap of his hips. 

The pleasure started breaking her will, just as he’d planned. 

But Henrietta wasn’t quite done resisting yet. The squelching sounds of him fucking her raw without protection (something the secretary would never do) turned her on to no end, stimulating her animalistic breeding kink. The thought of potentially carrying her packmaster’s baby lit a fire within her and she let out wild grunts as she took him and matched his pace. Fuck, fuck! She gripped his shoulders, dug her nails into his skin and raked her hands downwards to scratch him again as he slammed into her over and over and over. 

Alcide hissed when she drew blood and roughly threw her right leg up towards her shoulder to find a deeper fit. It was borderline painful at first, but Henrietta still pushed back against each slide in and out, which melted the tension away and brought her closer to the brink. He resumed his thunderous pace and she whined as the heat between them consumed her, finally burning away her defiance. It didn’t take long for her to tumble over the edge; her release was ardent and fierce, the kind that knocked the wind out of her sails. 

Even though he’d won, broken her … she still didn’t get a chance to catch her breath. 

“Again.” 

Her eyes widened when Alcide’s strong hands lifted her and flipped her over to her hands and knees with ease; her size was nothing compared to his. She barely caught her balance before he lined his cock up and pounded into her from behind. Doggy style. And he wasn’t gentle either. His fingers gripped her hips (surely leaving some bruises) and his movements went into a vigorous overdrive. FUUUUUUUCK! Henrietta wasn’t prepared to keep going after such earth shattering orgasms and floated on the edge of ecstasy and overstimulation, stars beginning to dance in her field of vision. It was so much, almost too much— 

“You. Will. Obey. Your. Pack. Master!” Alcide barked, each word punctuated by one of his punishing thrusts. 

She couldn’t even put two words together in her head, still too enthralled by the way he completely filled her, left her empty, then overwhelmed her cunt once more. Repeating the cycle again and again and again. The complete surrender to him was sublime, she didn’t want him to stop. It was like an out-of-body experience, disassociating from the wolf, the secretary, the entire world …  

Yet, he didn’t care how cockdrunk she was. “Answer. Me.” 

A mixture of whimpers and sobs poured out of her lips instead of the words he wanted to hear. Still not good enough. He gripped her flesh tighter and jackhammered into her with even more force. 

“Say it!” 

Her eyes flashed yellow before he tore her to absolute pieces and forced both of her releases. 

“Y-yes!” she finally submitted. 

Her rapturous climax followed, a muted wheeze eking past her lips. 

Alcide let out a victorious, booming howl and emptied himself inside her seconds later. 

She went from the highest high to the lowest low; Henrietta’s weak limbs turned to jelly and slumped towards the ground as she dropped and crashed at the bottom. Her mental cage was nowhere in sight (obliterated by her third release) and her wolf and human sides existed within the same space of her brain. She went around in circles, feeling extremely fulfilled but also confused about why she got such mind-numbing pleasure from it all. She didn’t notice Alcide starting to adjust back to himself. She was dizzy and exhausted and— 

“Hey, hey,” he cut in, his voice much more tender now that he’d shed his role. “Are you alright?” 

She collapsed into a pile, unable to hold herself up anymore; the ground was cold and hard against her body. Alcide settled down beside her, swept her into his arms and softly pressed her against his chest. Henrietta thought to recoil from such a gesture—ashamed of what had happened—but his scent and warmth soothed her. She took in a shuddering, deep breath and melted into him, pressing her face against his skin and closing her eyes in an attempt to settle her mind. 

“Did I … cross a boundary?” 

The secretary took her turn. “No. I’ve just … never done that before.” Then the wolf. “I loved every second of it.” 

He pulled her closer and his chest rumbled with a chuckle. 

“Then I suppose we’ll have to use a safe word next time. To make sure nothing goes too far.” 

Henrietta’s brows shot up in surprise, pushing aside any thoughts of how, yes, they should have discussed the ground rules of their game before playing. Next time? There was going to be a next time? One side of her couldn’t believe it; the other desperately craved another round. Her body involuntarily shivered and a wave of chills flooded down her spine. It was cold but also refreshing and arousing. 

“And I’m sure there’s more we could adjust. But for now,” Alcide continued, “let’s get you home.” 

Right. Home. She was thankful he was still with it enough to make the right decision for them both, seeing as they shouldn’t spend the rest of the night naked in the middle of the swampland. The game was finished, the fantasy slowly evaporating. It was time to get back to the real world, as much as she hated to admit it. But how exactly she would adjust to her old reality was a mystery. How could she when everything had changed, her two personalities now side by side without a barrier? 

Alcide released his hold to stand and her arms immediately reached out to keep touching him. He was her anchor and she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. He shot her a smile and extended his hand to pull her to her feet. Seconds later, she was standing beside him and he didn’t let go of her as he started to walk back towards the road. Henrietta’s legs and thought patterns were unfocused and wobbly (not entirely adjusted from her drop), but Alcide patiently remained by her side to guide her. 

The dirt finally turned into concrete; her truck sat yards away, just where they’d left it. As her packmaster walked towards it, the first dose of the real world hit. 

Her voice was breathy and meek. “It’s locked. With the keys inside.” Shit, what were they going to do? She was in no state to shift and run miles home. 

Alcide wasn’t concerned. He looked back at her with a mischievous grin. “I’ll repay you, I promise.” 

Before she could ask what he was talking about, his balled up fist smashed through the back window and she jumped in shock as the glass sprayed across the second row seat. Alcide reached inside, curled his arm forward and pushed a button on the driver’s side door, unlocking the rest of the truck with ease before brushing any remnants on the front seat out into the road. Careful not to cut his bare skin before he slipped into the truck. 

“You coming or what?” he teased over his shoulder. 

It took her a second to process what had just happened, but Henrietta sheepishly saddled up to the passenger side, opened her door and joined him. Once her flesh hit the upholstery, she was starkly reminded that her clothes were torn to shreds somewhere in the woods and they’d both have to stay naked the entire ride home. She attempted to cover herself with her arms—what if someone saw them or God forbid, they got pulled over?—and Alcide didn’t seem to share her shame as he twisted the keys in the ignition and the engine hummed with life. 

”Alright, tell me where to head.” 

“Ummm,” she faltered. His hand on her thigh was too distracting. “Make a u-turn and go back the other way.” 

They retraced her steps from earlier in the night and Henrietta still felt dizzy as she bounced between her selves; the wolf loved that his hand never moved from its position and the secretary was hard at work to remember how to direct him to her house. It was unfamiliar to be so uninhibited and when Alcide started to hum along with the radio and tap her leg to the beat, she stared at him incredulously. How was he so in control of himself? 

Her uneasiness accelerated when the second reality shock hit as they pulled into her driveway. Her lights were still on and she knew the door was open; she hadn’t cared about any of those details as she rushed to leave earlier that night. 

“Don’t tell me you’re locked out of your house, too,” he joked. She shook her head. “Good. Come on, then.” 

His fingers lingered on her shoulder blades as he led her to the front porch. Henrietta was thankful for his steady demeanor and that her property was rather secluded, not wanting to explain herself to any nosy neighbors. Like a true gentleman, he held the door open and motioned for her to enter first. Henrietta obliged but froze when she looked at the mess she’d left.  

“Sorry” was the only thing that tumbled out of her mouth. Otherwise, she turned mute, mortified at the state of her place. 

“Sit,” he coaxed, gesturing to her couch. 

He didn’t need any dominance in his voice to get her to cooperate; she plopped onto it while he wandered into the kitchen. She sat in silence, her exhaustion hitting her like a freight train and she sank into the pillows, feeling small. Barely hearing sounds in the other room—the opening of cabinets, rustle of dishware, whoosh of water from the tap, hum of the refrigerator, thuds of a knife hitting a cutting board and footsteps that continued back into the living room. Alcide returned with a full glass of water and snack plate, placing them on the coffee table and settling beside her. He reached over, grabbed a blanket off the other side of the couch and wrapped it around them. 

“Eat.” 

Henrietta didn’t want to leave his embrace at first. His warm skin just felt right against hers, but the collection of crackers, apple slices and cheese (man, how did he know that was her true weakness?) was tempting enough to get her to move. She leaned forward and took a sip from the glass before compiling a layered combination of food that she popped into her mouth. 

And as she leaned back into his chest, her body and mind finally began to relax. Muscles unclenched, anxious thoughts faded into the background. Her heart rate slowed for the first time since the pack fight. She realized she hadn’t actually had dinner that night and the snack satisfied a hunger she didn’t know she’d been suffering from. Moreover, the juicy, tangy and savory flavors hitting all at once fed something deeper within her. 

Why did it matter that she was human sometimes, a wolf another? Why did they have to be separate when they could coexist and bring about something more enjoyable together? Wasn’t that better than keeping them locked away from one another? 

Wasn’t that natural?  

It was the first time in her life she’d ever seriously considered the possibility. If Alcide could do it, so could she.

Alcide’s fingers brushed up and down against her shoulder and she closed her eyes and sighed contently as a profound release left her body. Her brain was still fuzzy—but now in a satisfied and pleased way—and she rolled her head back onto her shoulders and reached out for more food. The secretary said she needed the sustenance and the wolf agreed. This time, she grabbed a bigger portion and offered some to her packmaster, who accepted it with a chuckle and shoved the pile into his mouth. 

His laughter was contagious and Henrietta felt herself following suit with a giggle of her own. She comically stretched her arms in the air and draped herself over his lap, staring up at him while he toyed with her rat's nest hair. 

“Thank you,” she said. “For taking care of me.” 

In more ways than he realized. 

He smiled down at her before grabbing some water and taking a couple sips himself. “My pleasure.” 

Henrietta closed her eyes and melted into her surroundings. Each breath was easy and enjoyable instead of shallow and panicked. She felt happy, a strange feeling compared to how she’d left the house. But she didn’t question it. Instead, she welcomed the euphoria … until her nose twitched and caught a rather unpleasant scent. One eyelid lifted as she inhaled more and realized it was coming from her; she was covered in stale sweat and swamp earth. Not to mention the aftermath of hot, nasty sex.  

“Ummm … would you mind if I took a shower?” the secretary asked shyly. “I think I need it.” 

“You and me both.” He quirked a brow. “Can I join?” 

The wolf pounced at the opportunity. “Only if you can fit, big boy.” 

Alcide surprised her by gathering her in his arms and carrying her over to the bathroom; Henrietta squeaked with delight and kicked her legs. He nudged the door open, put her on the ground and finally understood her earlier comment. Her place only had a small stall shower that didn’t afford much room. But they still made it work, taking turns under the spray and lathering each other up with soap suds to wash off. 

Neither of them were in the right place to resume their earlier fucking, but that didn’t stop them from still exploring each other’s bodies. Their touch was slower and tender, nothing compared to the rawness during their game. Each kiss was featherlight and sentimental. It warmed Henrietta’s heart, completing the rise from the abyss she’d landed in after both their releases. 

“I’ll let you finish up,” he said, smoothing her wet hair back and kissing her forehead before leaving the shower and closing the door behind him.   

Henrietta took a moment to stand underneath the hot barrage of water (a poor substitute for Alcide’s warm body) and soak in the happy feeling that just wouldn’t go away. She sighed as the corners of her mouth lifted. Yet, every part of her pulled her to wash off the remaining soap, leave the shower, wrap a fluffy towel around her and find her packmaster. She couldn’t bear to be away from him for too long. 

When she found him in her bedroom, he was just finishing up sweeping the remnants of her broken dresser mirror into a dustpan. He turned to reciprocate her satisfied stare, water droplets running down the V of his abs and colliding with her small bath towel slung around his hips. Henrietta felt the carnal fire return; the secretary howled and the wolf blushed.  

Oh yes. There would definitely be a next time.

[ollypopwrites]

Six Song Soundtrack

tagged by @aldisobey (who i adore)

I also have a playlist for Vanya but I am always gonna have more music about my blorbos to share lol.

event that defines your characters past:

cherry wine — hozier (youtube | spotify)

I talk a lot about how being abandoned, growing up in the mourn watch and then being sent away shaped Vanya, so for this one I thought I’d include a song about her first love Daphne. (I could go on about these two and almost had Daphne make an appearance in the fic i’m writing about vanya but alas. the fic is already very long.)

how she views herself:

metamorphosis— infinity song (youtube | spotify)

I think this song lyrically just sort of sums up Vanya’s journey to seeing what Varric saw in her. The first half of the song is exactly how she’s always felt, but that last bit when she looks back is kind of an epiphany.

how others view them:

Bridge Over Troubled Water - Jacob Collier, John Legend, Tori Kelly (youtube | spotify)

The original is also a good one, but I thought the vibes of this cover fit better. I think the team sees Rook ready to lay herself down for them, Vanya in particular has a way of reaching out her hand and being there whether they like it or not. She is their bridge to each other and to healing.

Their Closest Relationship:

First Light - Hozier (youtube | spotify)

I think besides Emmrich, Davrin and Lucanis are her closest friends but I couldn’t come up with a suitable song to encapsulate those friendships. So I went for Emmrich, there’s layers to all of Hozier’s music but this album took inspiration from Dante’s Inferno this one particularly references leaving hell and I think for these two find a lot of hope in each other despite the circumstances.

A Major Fight Scene:

Hope in a Bleak World - Elephant Music (youtube | spotify)

The violin in this is just how I imagine Vanya’s brain is moving through plans, back up plans, back ups to the back up plans and when everything goes to hell she just keep going. The rhythm behind it is the urgency, the panic, but she never quits.

Ending Credits:

Heartlines - Florence and the Machine (youtube | spotify)

When I’ve seen her play this live, she’s mentioned that a good chunk of it is about family and finding your way back to loved ones. I think if I could sum up Vanya’s journey from the War of Banners to the final battle, this would be it. She’s speaking to herself, to her family team. And it’s witchy. Vanya is v witchy lol.

tagging @silshinobii @curiouswisp @razildor @bankabb