#I was going to go with a pool of literal blood

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

"Hey There, Dio"

July 2023 prompt "pool" / 442 words / rated g / tw; Eddie is drunk (don't know if that counts as a trigger) / @steddiemicrofic

Steve glances over the pool table, watching dark curls fall in front of the other man's face. Tattoos stretched out on his skin as he moves his arms out while holding the cue stick aiimed at a dark green ball. Steve lets a soft chuckle rip through his chest when he realizes the guy doesn’t know what he’s doing. Either that or he was too drunk to realize his mistake. 

“Hey there Dio, you're supposed to hit the white ball into the striped balls.” Steve comments amused as he holds the stick against his chest. Snorting as he watches the other drunkenly move around the table to the white ball. 

“I knew that.” 

“Sure you did, pal.” 

Steve shakes his head as his eyes land on the Dio patch on the other’s vest. Tracing the details on the image as he waits for the other to hit the ball. Which never comes as the guy misses and falls face-first into the baize. It was absolutely pathetic and Steve forces himself to hold his laughter back. Not understanding why the other was so determined to play a match with him if he was to wasted to see straight.

Instead of teasing the other like he wanted to, he moves and wraps his arm around the others waist. Sliding his arm underneath the leather jacket as he pulls the others arm around his shoulder so he could help him walk.

“Oooooh, gotta buy me a drink first big boy,” The flirting is new and it causes Steves brain to shortwire with confusion. He did walk in a straight bar right?

“Well good thing waters free then.” Steve says amused. He doesn’t know who this guy was but he was determined to make sure he was safe for the night. 

“Noooo, not water.” The man tosses his head back almost causing both of them to flop back onto the pool table. Steve grunts a little at the amount of weight he has to lift before he gets a better grip on the other to help him walk over to a booth. Being dragged down to sit next to the orher as the man tosses his legs over his lap. Tilting his head a bit, before moving forward and licking the side of Steve’s face.

“Finder Keepers.”

Steve's face scrunches up a bit as he tries to lift his hand up and wipe the spit off from his face. Trying his hardest to be mad at the other whose eyes have grown wide all of a sudden. 

“You’s the most prettiest boy I ever met.”

And oh god tonight, was going to be a long night.

[mariana-oconnor]

I had Astarion eat a goblin child. I feel so bad.

And then one got away anyway and it turned out that letting them go free isn't even that bad.

I am the worst.

[paeinovis]

Back on my bullshit (googling suction and pressure gradient force)

[waywardsalt]

thinking about how id piece together how magic works in hyrule. into the tags it goes

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay I think in my dream last night I was for whatever reason herding some people through a party and trying to get us out of there before we got stuck in that dimension, but I got sidetracked playing a game where I had to guess constellations

[ssahotchnerr]

yes! i do!! you have jj’s role and an unsub is shot dead infront of you and his blood literally soaks you and you’re shaking and speechless and aaron’s focus is to get to you and keep you safe and bring you back to earth 🥲🥲

stay with me

cw; fem liasion!reader, protective!aaron, multiple blood descriptions, panic attack descriptions, no established relationship but aaron and reader are close, there's also one small mention of aaron's shirt being big on reader, fluff <3 wc; 1k

your ears are ringing. whether it's from the gunshot or the blatant shock, you have no idea.

you're frozen in place; everything's fuzzy, your body is buzzing and your lips, hands, everything is numb.

you're not used to this. this isn't what your job usually entails. you look at pictures like this, you don't live or experience it.

in the haze, someone's approached you. someone's talking to you. someone's embraced you. there's a hand on your back, an arm attempting to shield you away. but your feet don't move. internally, you're screaming at them to move.

why won't they move?

"hey," it's aaron. you don't hear him, or process that it's him, until he shakes you ever so gently and again, he says, "hey."

you don't want to be used to this.

"i..." you rigidly stand there, staring at the unsub laid in front of you, the pool of blood around him growing as the seconds pass. you think you're articulating words, but you're not sure.

aaron follows your eyes - he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. a swirl of emotions fill him - first and foremost, relief you're safe and unscathed, but also horror at what you just encountered - what you shouldn't have encountered.

"it's on me." you manage to choke out, feeling rather lightheaded as you view your shaky hands, and then your blouse, both spattered with red. it's on your neck, your face, and it's like you can feel every singular dot, singeing into your skin like it's bound to be permanent. a new fear fills you - will you ever be able to not feel it?

"don't look, just look at me." your head whips towards aaron, finding his gentle and concerned brown eyes. the sight allows your chest to loosen, finding the smallest bit of normalcy when it comes to breathing. you're remembering how to breathe.

aaron wants to bring the cuff of his sleeve to your skin, to wipe away the residue but he can't. he fears it would make it worse, and remind you again that it's littered on you - the last thing you needed. he wanted to calm you, not further panic you. "or better yet, just close them, sweetheart."

the term of endearment goes right past you, as you grip onto his vest, the sleeves of his shirt, anything your fingers can hold onto as he's guiding you out of the house. he's talking to the rest of the team, relaying instructions, but you only focus on keeping your eyes shut.

"it's okay, you're going to be just fine." aaron assures you, his voice low and even, soothing. "hear the leaves crunching under your feet? there's a cool breeze tonight, too. can you feel it?"

you nod gingerly. the sound is distant, but it's there. and just as he stated, you feel the cool air hit your cheeks, the wind also tousling your hair. it feels colder than cool, though, due to the stream of tears trailing downwards - have you been crying too? "i can hear it in the trees."

"that's good. how about smell, can you smell anything?"

copper.

aaron realizes his mistake the second the sentence leaves his mouth, your face paling as well as his.

"your aftershave." you blurt out, surprising yourself. despite the sheer panic, it was fairly easy to redirect your mind to him. your fingers clutched onto the fabric of his shirt more forcefully. "it smells spicy, sweet too. it smells like you. familiar. safe."

you resist the urge to tuck your face into him, but after a moment's thought, you do. you need it. you need him.

and to further secure you, aaron holds you to him, his large hand spanning the side of your head and keeping your face buried close to his chest.

your eyes open when you reach the suv; when the two of you come to a stop, when aaron's hold is suddenly absent, the sound of the door opening deeming it safe - far away from the scene.

but at the loss of his contact, involuntarily your eyes fall back to your blouse. it's stuck to your skin, soaked by the... blood.

"stay with me." aaron manages to grab your attention before you begin spiraling again, his hands lifting and hesitating. "may i?"

you nod, frantically and this time, you can feel the tears resurfacing. "please get it off me."

first, aaron unvelcros his vest, and then removes his tie, his dress shirt, leaving him in just his white tee. he drapes it over the passenger seat - at the ready.

aaron ushers you closer to the interior of the car so the open door fully covers you, blocking any view that isn't his. he unbuttons your blouse with gentle fingers, acting rather quickly as well. and respectfully, he averts his eyes - either looking strictly at his hands, the buttons on each shirt, or your face, checking in on you.

he helps you into his shirt, holding it open so you can slide your arms in. it envelopes you, and just as fast as he unbuttoned, he fastens it shut.

it feels as if a small weight is lifted off your shoulders, and aaron tosses your soiled shirt onto the ground in the backseat. he leads you to sit sideways in the passenger seat, facing him.

"i don't want to be alone." you don't know why that's the first thing to exit your mouth, but it is. your eyes lift to his, frightened and pleading.

aaron nods as he gets down on a knee, cupping your cheek with his hand. "you're sleeping in my room tonight."

"with you?"

with a stroke of his thumb, overtop those bloodstains he's desperate to wash and rid you from, he nods again. "with me."

[vxsellie]

AFLAME - E.W

pairing : firefighter!ellie x rescued!reader synopsis : your apartment goes up in flames and you're unlucky enough to have been on the top floor, your front door blocked by fire. thankfully, a certain firefighter finds you before it's too late a/n : ok this literally took so long to write i cannot ,, but im so excited to finally be posting it bc i feel like u guys will like it ! also i gave in to ur guys pleading and made a sequel here , it's not a part 2 but i hope it's enough to satisfy your thirst for more wc : 7.7k

your back is pressed against the wall of your kitchen as you clutch your cat in your arms. she mews in your hold, growing more restless by the second. you can hear the frantic shouting of firemen running up and down the halls of your apartment, rescuing your neighbors one by one. but your door is engulfed in flames, making it impossible for you to show them any sign of you being trapped in here.

oxygen is slowly depleting as your breaths become less like breaths and more like sharp gasps of air. your throat burns and your skin stings with the heat.

your cat, amber, shifts in your arms, wanting to move and breathe without struggle. you hush her, fighting tears as you begin to lose hope in ever being rescued. amber continues to meow loudly, her voice becoming more raw by the second. you shush her, not wanting her to waste her breath on trying to get your attention.

you run a gentle hand down her back, coughing as you try to comfort her. tears run down your cheeks as her mewing doesn't cease. your hand begins to shake as you caress her fur.

sirens can be heard from the street, muffled by your closed window and thin walls. your initial thought had been to open your window for air, but you knew better than to feed the flames with oxygen, so you settled in your kitchen as far away from the fire as possible and fell to your knees with amber against you.

firefighters continue to walk down the hall, calling out things you cannot hear. you recognize the croaky voice of your neighbor. silently, you're glad she managed to get out safe. she'd always been a very kind old woman to you, offering you burnt cookies and warm stories of her grandchildren.

amber continues to scratch and paw at you. you blink away tears and give her a weak smile, feeling the lack of oxygen begin to get to your head. you're delirious and in pain. you'd hurt your arm when you pulled amber out of the debris that'd become of the bathroom. you cut it open on the splintering door, the wood digging right into your forearm without mercy. you can feel the warm blood running down your arm and between your fingers where you hold amber firm against your chest. you try not to focus on the pain, though, rather directing your attention to managing your low source of air.

you hear footsteps begin to descend down the staircase and you can't help the tears that begin to pool down your face at the thought of being left up here. your shoulders tremble as you sob into amber's fur.

you can't go anywhere near the door without being burnt alive. you can't open any windows without your entire apartment exploding with you inside. you can't scream for help because you know nobody would hear you anyway.

the sudden sound of someone pounding on your door brings your mind away from its decent into despair. you instantly sit up straight, amber still restless and eager for play. you watch with blurred vision and a throbbing head as someone bangs on your door. after a moment, it flies off its hinges as a red boot comes barreling through the wood.

"in here!" you shout, staggering to your feet as the firefighter enters your apartment. your body sways on your feet due to exhaustion as the person follows the sound of your voice into the kitchen.

they enter, a gas mask covering their face. they say something to you, but your ears are ringing with the disbelief that they were able to find you. their hands reach forward, offering to hold amber.

see, you know it's unfair and you know you shouldn't, but you refuse. you shake your head, holding amber closer to your chest. she'd always been your dearest possession, and is now your only possession as the rest have been burnt to char. the firefighter nods, not thinking it wise to put up a fight with you.

"ah, shit, your arm." the firefighter mutters. their feminine voice points out that they are, apparently, a woman. "okay, okay. listen, you hold your cat and i'll carry you."

you blink, "what? i don't⎯"

"don't be difficult, now." she orders, crouching down before you can deny her the chance. she puts one arm under your knees, the other across your back. then, bridal style, she hauls you into her arms.

the room swims around you, your head throbbing and your throat raw. not to mention the indescribable pain in your arm. everything swirls and blurs under your delirious gaze. you lean back into her chest, amber meowing loudly at the stranger holding you.

the woman walks toward the front door, making sure to cover your face with her gloved hand as she passes through the flamed doorway. you cough when you're in the hallway, your chest constricting with the amount of smoke in your lungs.

"shh, you're fine. you're okay, i got you." the woman mutters as she begins to descend the concrete stairway. and, for some reason, you believe her.

you turn your focus toward her, staring at what you can make out of her face through her blackened gas mask. you can see her pale green eyes narrowed as her lashes blink repeatedly as she rushes down the steps whilst simultaneously trying not to jostle you too much. her lips are pursed in concentration, the bridge of her nose catching the light as she turns a corner at a landing.

"how'd you know i was in there?" you ask, your words slurred and your voice groggy.

"ma'am, please. just rest." she instructs, her gaze flicking down to your face for a split second before looking back forward. "we don't need to make conversation when you're clearly disturbed and in pain. just relax."

"i can't rest. my head hurts too bad." you say, shaking your head. "just⎯ answer my questions and i promise to leave you alone."

"okay fine." she sighs. "i knew you were in there because your elderly neighbor was a rather feisty woman. she threatened us with her butcher knife, saying she'd stab us and sue our company if we didn't make sure to save you and your cat."

a small smile tugs at your lips. you shut your eyes, tipping her head back. "mm, sounds like her."

"she's quite terrifying." the firefighter comments.

"she's a good person, most the time. she has a huge family and cares for them deeply, she just⎯ she knows i don't have anyone so she treats me like a part of her family." you murmur.

if you weren't so high in delirium, there's no way you'd be saying all this to a random stranger. frankly, you're a rather private person. you only open up to those you're close with and feel comfortable confiding in. take your neighbor for example. you've lived beside her for the past three years.

when you open your eyes, the woman is gazing down at you. her footsteps have become less frantic as she watches you with parted lips.

the two of you have now reached the foyer. a few other firefighters are seen with hoses and blankets for the rescued residents. the woman carries you across the linoleum flooring, the heels of her boots thudding loudly as she crosses the space to get to the large glass door.

once you're outside, you can feel amber relish in the fresh air. her incessant mewing ceases and she begins to purr. your heart clenches as the sound, pitying the fact that she's so happy about something so little such as fresh air.

"williams!" a voice calls out as the woman ⎯ who is apparently named williams, though you're fairly certain that's her last name ⎯ carries you over to a nearby ambulance. "what the hell took you so long!? we were worried sick!"

"oh calm down." williams replies, easing you down onto the edge of the ambulance where the back doors are open.

a paramedics rushes up to you with a roll of gauze. with you now tended to, williams turns away from you to focus on the man in front of her. still, despite the attention you're getting from the paramedic, she refuses to stray too far from where you sit.

after a moment of you swaying back and forth gently as someone wrapping bandages painfully tight around your arm, you hear your neighbors shrill voice call out for you from across the parking lot.

"oh, dear!" she shouts as she rushes toward you, her floral shirt tattered and covered in debris, her grey hair laced with ash. overall, she appears unharmed and you relax a bit at the sight. "oh, i haven't been able to rest until i knew you were okay, but⎯" her eyes trail down to where blood is seeping through the gauze around your forearm. "turns out you're not unharmed."

"it's just a cut, agnes." you insist, still holding amber in your lap as your arm throbs with even more pain than before now that the paramedic has wrapped the bandage far too tightly around your skin. "i'm fine⎯"

"oh, you always say that." she waves a hand at you dismissively.

she then turns to williams, recognizing her to have been the woman that she'd forced into rescuing you earlier. anges tugs on her arm to get her attention, causing williams to turn to face her. she removes her gas mask to be more respectful when speaking to a resident. at the sight of williams' uncovered face, you nearly faint. she looks as though she'd been chiseled from stone and created by a sculptor who was desperately in love with their muse.

"yes, ma'am?" she inquires, turning to agnes with a raised brow.

"i told you guys to get her out of there unharmed!" she reprimands, seething with rage as she gestures toward where you're being tended to. the paramedic is now offering you pills and water for your headache.

williams blinks, taken aback by the blame suddenly pointed toward her. "i don't⎯"

"it wasn't her fault," you interrupt, "i hurt myself trying to save amber."

"still. had the firefighters been there sooner, you wouldn't have had to save your poor cat all on your own." agnes points out, insistent on blaming the woman in front of her.

"i sincerely apologize, ma'am, but you must know that⎯"

"i don't want to hear it!" she interrupts her, holding a hand out to stop her from speaking any further. "to make it up to her, you're now responsible for finding her a place to stay."

"but⎯"

"no buts!"

williams snaps her mouth shut, likely remembering the image of when agnes held her at knifepoint and threatened her entire career. you smile to yourself at the idea of such a sweet old lady scaring the shit out of some buff firefighter.

agnes turns to face you with a soft expression. "you don't worry about a thing, dear. she will figure it all out for you. she'll make sure you have food on your plate and a roof over your head. if not, i'll make her regret it."

she places a gentle hand on your shoulder as she speaks, the last sentence laced with passive aggressiveness to williams, who stands off to the side with furrowed brows. after her assurance, agnes trots off with her infamous prideful stride. the other residents of your apartment scowl at her as she walks by, nobody being a fan of her fiery personality aside from you.

williams sighs, turning to you with a raised brow. "a good person, huh?"

"i said most the time." you point out with a playful smile.

no longer losing a significant amount of blood or with a throbbing headache, you're far less feverish, now able to speak without slurring or letting random facts about yourself slip.

williams sits down beside you, allowing her head to tip back. you stare shamelessly, enraptured by the way her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths or the bits of ash and dirt smudged across her skin. after a moment, she turns to you, removing her gloves and pulling her phone from her pocket. "suppose i should start looking for nearby hotels for you, right?"

you scoff, "you don't need to do that. she was just being protective."

"no, no." she insists. "she was right about one thing. and thats the fact that you wouldn't have been hurt if i got there sooner."

"don't blame yourself, williams, i'm fine."

"ellie." she corrects you with a brow raised in amusement.

you narrow your eyes at her. "what?"

"my name." she tells you with a light chuckle shaking her chest. "call me ellie. only my coworkers call me williams. it's for formality's sake. and, quite frankly, i hate it."

"oh, i'm sorry. i just heard someone call you that and i⎯"

"its fine." she tells you with a small smile. she shakes her head and turns back to her phone, typing for a place to stay in the search bar.

she scrolls through the options for a few minutes. while she does so, you busy yourself with checking amber for any possible wounds or marks. you hold her in the air, making sure to put most of her weight on your uninjured arm as your other still aches with residual pain.

the paramedic didn't give you any ointment or stitches, though you likely needed them. he'd simply wrapped your arm, albeit painfully tight, handed you some pills, then sauntered off to the next wounded resident.

"damn it," you hear ellie mutter under her breath. you turn your attention back to her. she feels your eyes on her and she explains. "none of the hotels accept cats and all the motels are closed."

"i told you i'll be fine." you tell her, a pang of guilt shooting through you. "anges is just⎯"

"protective, i know." she finishes for you. she turns off her phone and stuffs it back into her pocket and turns to face you with brows furrowed in thought. "and don't you dare tell me not to worry after you just told me that you have no family. i know you have nowhere else to go."

you tense at the mention of your family, instantly feeling embarrassed and a bit ashamed even. you shakes your head, "still. it's not your issue to concern yourself with."

"it's literally my job." she points out.

you sigh, knowing you won't win this argument against her. she turns to face forward, staring at the starry sky in thought. meanwhile, you turn toward the opposite direction, seeing that the aflamed building has now been put out. despite that, it pains you to see the apartment you lived in for the past few years in shambles. not all the neighbors were as kind as agnes, but you still called that place home. and now it's gone.

you hold amber tightly against you, her warm fur serving as comfort against the chill of pain that traces up your spine. she purrs against you, nestling deeper into your chest for more pets.

"i have an idea." ellie suddenly blurts out. you turn to look at her, seeing her expression now overcome by newfound determination. "stay with me."

you're instantly taken aback by the proclamation, your brows shooting up as your lips part in shock. "what?"

"my house isn't far from here. come back with me to the fire station so i can change and pick up my car, then we can head over there and you can stay with me for as long as you need until you find yourself a place." she says, her tone making it sound as though it were obvious all along.

"you mean it?" you ask, voice small.

"of course." she confirms. "plus, how could i say no to such a cute cat?"

she reaches out and pets amber gentle behind her ear. she leans into the touch, shutting her eyes and purring loudly. you smile, allowing the two of them a moment to connect. especially considering that you have no idea how long you'll be staying with ellie for.

"this means a lot to me." you say, causing ellie to lift her head and peer up at you, still gently caressing amber. your entire body is overcome with a sense of gratitude for ellie williams and the unintentional safety her presence provides you with. "i mean it."

***

twenty minutes later, you find yourself amid chaos. you rode with ellie back to the fire station and now you're standing awkwardly as everyone files out of their respective trucks. some of them are covered head to toe in soot and grime. others appear unscathed. ellie herself is somewhere between the two ⎯ in need of a shower, but not repulsing in her uncleanliness. you, on the other hand, are extremely dirty and bloody and gross.

amber sleeps in your arms are you press your back against a nearby brick wall and watch the firefighters all bound around the space. some of them are changing right there in the locker room ⎯ which doesn't have a door, by the way, though it's around a corner. others are rushing to the parking lot, desperate to get home.

"sorry," ellie apologizes as she rushes up to you. she no longer wears her hat, short brown hair askew atop her head. she runs her hands through it, giving you a sincere look. "i forgot how hectic it can be to someone who's not used to this."

you have a hand, "ah, it's fine."

secretly, you're dying inside. not only because your headache is beginning to reform at the sudden mayhem, but because ellie looks so fucking good right now. she saved your life and you know it's likely disrespectful to be so attracted to her, but you can't help it. you know what it feels like to be held in her arms and looked at with delicacy and you can't stop yourself from yearning for more.

"you sure?" she ask. "because if you're fine with it, i might just⎯"

"woah there, williams!" one of her coworkers calls out, walking up and draping his arm over her shoulders playfully. "you kidnapped one of the residents?"

she rolls her eyes, though a small smile can be seen on tugging at her lips. "haha, very funny. no, asshole, i didn't kidnap her. she needs somewhere to stay so i offered my place."

the man raises a brow at this, intrigued. he removes his arm from her shoulders and peers down at you curiously. though, once his eyes land on the sleeping cat in your hands, he breaks out into a wide grin. he holds out his hands. "oh my god! please, please, please can i hold him?"

you shoot the man a scowl, turning amber away from his sight. "not a chance. and she's a girl."

his eyebrows shoot up at your protectiveness. he turns to ellie, waiting for her to defend him. she crosses her arms, shaking her head with a chuckle. "she loves her damn cat, man, can't do anything about that."

he sighs, but says nothing to win your favor. he simply grumbles under his breath about being filthy and scurries off to the showers, already stripping his shirt off on his way there.

with him gone, ellie turns to you with a smirk. "glad to see that i'm not the only one who's denied touching your cat at first."

"of course not." you say. "nobody gets to touch her after the tough day she's had."

"that's fair." ellie agrees with a light laugh. after a moment, she says, "anyway. i was going to ask if you're okay with me showering and changing here instead of waiting until we're back home. that way, once we get back, you can have the shower all to yourself while i prepare you a place to sleep."

you nod, "yeah, of course. do whatever works best for you, ellie, i'm not picky."

"okay." she replies, seeming grateful for your flexibility. she glances over her shoulder toward where the locker rooms are. "okay, yeah. you wait on the bench over here, i'll come out and get you when i'm done."

she gestures toward a wooden bench. it's rather ragged and positioned in the very center of the chaos, but you nod regardless. ellie is offering you a place to stay for an undecided amount of time. refusing her orders would be incredibly rude at this point. so, instead, you nod and walk over to the bench whilst she walks over to the women's locker room.

you cross your legs, allowing amber to sleep in your lap as you wait. you can hear the low hum of people talking from deeper within the building ⎯ likely where the offices and more professional rooms are located ⎯ along with the gentle flow of water from the showers down the hall. people are laughing loudly within the locker rooms, the sound of boots and hats and clothes hitting the floor easy to pinpoint.

you allow your eyes to examine the space around you. the floor is concrete, stained with random spills and dirt. hoses and ladders line the brick walls, hung up as high as they can go. then, on the ceiling, large industrial lights sway gently back and forth. the showers are down the hallway, the men and women's locker rooms on either side of the hall.

suddenly, a loud rumble is heard as the huge garage door is lifted up via pulley. your head snaps toward the sound, watching as a bright red truck pulls into the space.

another wave of firemen bustle into the building once a truck shows up and they're able to pile out of it. they rush in different directions, splitting up in groups of those wishing to change and clean and those who wish to go home as soon as possible.

you avert your eyes down to look at amber as the people walk around you, trying not to draw attention to yourself. though, that's rather inevitable as you stick out like a sore thumb. everyone else is in their uniforms while you're in normal clothes, ash and dirt on your skin with a bloodied bandage wrapped around your forearm that you're trying your hardest to ignore.

and, unfortunately, amber draws quite a bit of attention as you hear a few people murmur and coo in awe of the sleeping cat. you tell yourself to ignore it, uncomfortable with the attention.

"hey," someone says. you look up to see a man standing in front of you with two of his friends on either side of him. he's covered in dirt, the stench of fire filling your nose as he nears you. "cute cat."

"thanks." you say shortly, narrowing your eyes at him defensively.

"oh c'mon, i'm not gonna bite." he says with a laugh. you only deepen your glare at this, already able to know what type of guy you're dealing with here. "what's your name, little lady? come here alone? y'know, i could take ya home if ya need a warm bed for the night. we could share."

he takes a step closer, his knees knocking with your crossed ones. he hunches a bit to reach his hand toward amber. you instantly slap it away, not thinking before using your injured arm. you wince a bit, but fight not to show the pain it causes you. he yanks his hand back as though he'd been burned.

"fuck off." you snap. "at least have the decency to ask before touching her."

"watch it." he sneers. "i've been out saving people all day. i don't need some ungrateful bitch to tell me what i can and can't do."

you roll your eyes. "clearly you do, seeing as you can't tell for yourself what's acceptable."

"how dare you!" he gapes.

his friends both step closer, the three of them crowding you. your arm aches at your side from having used it so carelessly to slap him away. you don't falter, though, knowing that's exactly what they want you to do. instead, you hold your ground and scowl up at him, holding the man's gaze without blinking.

"it's common fucking etiquette to not touch someone without asking." you tell him.

"i didn't touch you, dumbass." he says, his voice growing louder with each word. a few people are beginning to turn toward the commotion, nosily wondering what's going on. "i touched your cat. big fucking difference, there."

"the principle still stands." you point out, keeping your expression neutral and your voice perfectly level ⎯ which only serves to make him more irritated. "you're supposed to ask before reaching your grimy ass hands toward me."

"fuck you!" he shouts, now gaining the attention of everyone around you. "i already fucking told you⎯"

"what the hell is going on here?"

all four of you turn to see ellie standing with her arms crossed. her jacket is off, a thin black tank top covering her top half while her baggy uniform pants cover her lower half. her hair is wet, chin dripping water droplets to the cement floor.

at the sight of her, the two friends seem to no longer be interested in the conversation as they suddenly disappear from the scene. the man in front of you frowns, taking a step away from you though his chest continues to rise and fall with angered breaths.

"answer me, smith." she demands, voice laced with venom. "i asked what the hell is going on here and i don't like being ignored by lower ranks."

"i asked to pet her cat and she⎯"

"no he didn't." you interrupt, the entire left side of your body engulfed in pain after having hit the guy's hand. and you didn't even hit him that hard, damn. "he reached out to touch her without asking. not to mention his horrible flirting."

ellie listens to you intently before casting her gaze over to the man, smith. "so you lied to me?"

"what? n-no! i just⎯" he stammers, eyes flicking between you and ellie, frantic for his coworker to understand. "why are you taking her side over mine, williams? we've worked together for⎯ what? two years?"

"yeah, and you're renown for being a complete asshole." she scoffs.

"but she⎯"

"she is a civilian. and it's our job to protect and respect them, is it not?" she points out, raising her brows as he nods, ashamed. "that includes not cursing at them, calling them bitches, or touching them without permission."

"it wasn't her!" he exclaims. "it was just the damned cat!"

"don't touch her fucking cat, man." calls out the guy who ellie had talked to earlier. the one she seemed to actually enjoy being around. he appears to have just gotten out of the shower, naught but a towel around his waist to substitute as clothing.

"gee, i had no idea." smith grounds out through clenched teeth, his fists balled at his sides. "i can fucking see that now. thanks."

"anytime, buddy." the other man says with a wink before disappearing back into the locker room.

ellie continues to stand behind smith her her arms crossed, her thin tank top showing off every muscle in her torso. you have to force yourself not to stare, distracting yourself by petting amber's back delicately.

"apologize." ellie demands.

"what? me?" he asks, confused. "but⎯"

"i'm not fucking asking, smith." she threatens. "apologize to the pretty lady or i tell miller about this whole thing and you lose your damn job."

apparently, the mention of miller seems to snap smith into obedience as he quickly nods his head and turns to you with a scowl. his fists continue to shake at his sides, his anger balled between his fingers there.

"i'm. sorry." he grunts.

you should accept it, you know you should. but you were never good at doing what you're supposed to. so, instead, you tilt your head innocently and ask, "sorry for what exactly?"

he appears on the edge of insanity as he clenches his jaw and rushes out a quick explanation. "i'm sorry for trying to touch your cat."

"without..." you trail off, allowing him to follow.

"without asking." he finishes.

you smile victoriously, nodding to ellie as to allow her to dismiss him. she obliges, turning to him and giving him one last lecture on respect and obedience before allowing him to make the walk of shame back to the locker room full of men who just heard that entire encounter.

when he turns the corner, ellie walks up to you with a playful grin. "damn, you surely stood your ground there."

"of course i did." you agree. "not just anyone can touch my cat."

she huffs out a laugh, shaking her head at you fondly. "c'mon, lets get out of here. the shower was freezing anyway. all these assholes stole the hot water before i even had a chance."

"okay." you smile, shifting amber in your arms before standing from the bench.

the two of you walk out of the fire station and into the parking lot. the moon hangs high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the parked cars. you watch ellie as she pulls her keys from her pocket and unlocks her vehicle. the moonlight illuminates her skin with a soft hue, her wet hair clinging to the back of her neck.

you reach the car and enter the passenger's seat, holding amber in your lap as ellie puts the key into the ignition the car rumbles into motion. she backs out of the parking space and heads down the road, one hand on the wheel as the other is lazily draped over the center console between the two of you.

you watch through the window as the city passes you by in a blur, cars and shops reflect the moon's glow, everything cast under its resplendent coloring. you turn to ellie, deciding to fill the air with conversation.

"so you're a high rank firefighter?" you ask. "sure looked like those guys respected the fuck out of you."

she chuckles, "i'm ranked high, yes. but they only listen to me because the boss will always take my side over any of theirs and they knows that."

"miller?" you question, recalling the name she'd spoken.

"yeah. joel miller." she confirms. "he's an intimidating man and you'd have to be a fool not to be scared of him."

"are you? scared of him, i mean."

"i was." she says. "but after a few years of working under him and getting to know him as a person rather than just his position of authority, i feel i know him too well to be scared of him."

you hum, "that sounds nice, though. you have power over everyone else."

"yeah. sometimes i wish they'd just respect me without joel's reputation looming over my every move." she confesses with a sigh, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel lightly. "most of my coworkers would rather die than respect a woman, though, so i'm a bit out of luck there."

"well, fuck them." you say. "if they can't see your worth outside of your relationship with miller, their opinions don't mean shit."

her eyebrows shoot up at this, shocked by your sudden ferocity. once the initial shock dwindled, though, she laughs. a full-chested laugh that fills the car. your heart clenches at the sound, musical and luminary in its significance.

"yeah." she says between laughter. "yeah, fuck them."

you laugh along with her, the conversation falling into an easy rhythm. you get to know ellie better and she gets to know you, the both of you simultaneously coming to the decision that it'd be best to get the small talk out of the way before you live together for an undetermined amount of time.

amber remains curled up in your lap, her fur still covered in ash. not like you're much better yourself, though, as your hair is coated in soot and your skin has a thick layer of filth atop it.

when ellie pulls into her driveway, you're shocked to see the house. it's a small cottage-styled building, made of cobblestone and white shudders. the sidewalk is framed with bushes and flowers that have clearly been tended to by their owner. if you were completely honest, you'd expected ellie to live in some sort of industrial building, hardened and dark like her personality.

she shuts off the car and you both exit through your respective sides of the vehicle, amber jostling awake in your hold. ellie unlocks the front door before allowing you entry, the lock clicking as she turns the handle.

you walk inside, the space small but cozy. one bedroom, one bathroom, an open layout for the kitchen and living room. the flooring is wood, antique carpets laid out over the larger spaces. plaid blankets are draped over chairs and couches, available to the user.

"this is cute," you say, looking around, "didn't take you for a homey decor type."

she chuckles, shutting and locking the front door behind herself. "well i've gotta keep you on your toes somehow."

you laugh, placing amber on the floor to allow her time to roam and stretch her legs. in an instant, she's disappeared and won't be found for the next few hours. ellie leads you to the bathroom, allowing you time to clean off.

the bathroom is small as well, a tiny sink surrounded by a messy counter beside the toilet and tiny shower. if you're being completely honest, you love the house. it's so small and yet so comfy and warm. the disheveled nature to the house makes it feel more like a home, lived in and used. you love it. ellie, on the other hand, has been subtly tidying up as you guys walk through the space. while you examine the shower, she stacks up the messily placed contents of the countertop. when you turn back around to face her, she instantly stops, quick to cover up what she'd been doing. you find it oddly endearing.

"well," she murmurs, "i'll leave you to it."

with that and nothing more, she exits the bathroom. she'd already showed you how to use the shower and where to find towels so you're well prepared to wash off. but, as you strip your clothes off, a fiery pain shoots down your arm and up your side. you wince, looking down at the bandaged wound. it's bleeding through the material, your fingers beginning to feel numb from how tight it's wrapped.

you ignore it and step into the shower, trying to wash off without any thought for the searing pain in your limb. you wash your hair and scrub your body with your uninjured arm, the scent of ellie filling the air. her shampoo and body wash now coats you, a certain intimacy to the domestic act of sharing bathroom supplies. for some reason, the flutter in your heart is harder to ignore than the physical agony in your forearm.

you finish showering and wrap yourself in the towel ellie had set out for you. water drips onto the tile flooring, creating a puddle around you. you hug the towel closer to your body, not wanting to make a mess in ellie's home. but your arm suddenly aches at the way you tighten your grip.

with a groan, you decide to unwrap the wound and check on how it's doing. seeing as ellie is a firefighter, you're sure she's got some bandages under the sink. you undo it, instantly grimacing at the sight of the gore. you wince as cold air touches the open wound.

"fuck," you mutter, taking in the lack of care the paramedic put into helping you. there's no way you should have walked off without stitches or some kind of cleaning.

you crouch down to the cabinet under the sink and begin rummaging through its contents. you feel horrible for going through ellie's belongings in such a way, but you assure yourself it's for a good reason. you eventually find a first-aid kit and you crack it open.

unfortunately, you have no experience with medical care. half the things in the kit are foreign to you, random rolls of gauze and unlabeled ointments. you frown, the pain in your arm only growing as more time passes. eventually, you decide to just bite the bullet and ask ellie for assistance. you stand from the floor and close her cabinet before calling out to her.

"ellie! can you come in here for a sec?" you shout, sitting down on the closed toilet seat with the first aid kit in your lap. within seconds, she's opening the door, now changed into a pair of shorts and a random band tee.

"hey, what's—" her words instantly cut off when her gaze lands on your bloody arm, the wound no longer wrapped and now reopened. "holy shit, what are you doing?"

she rushes over to you, her voice laced with concern and desperation to help you. your eyes sting at the sound, never having heard someone so worried about you. you blink it away, looking down as you struggle to explain yourself. "the paramedic didn't wrap it well and— it, uh, hurt really fucking bad, and—"

"shh, shh," she walks over to you with soothing tones and gentle hands, "you're okay, let me see."

you hold your arm out to her, allowing her to examine it. she holds your wrist delicately in her hand, turning your arm over to look at the wound. she sucks in a breath at the sight. you frown, "is it that bad?"

"no, just," she sighs, "don't worry about it, okay? i'll fix it as best i can."

she crouches in front of you, taking a few things from the first aid kit. you watch as she picks out a specific ointment, her knowing exactly what to grab despite them not having labels. she then grabs a roll of gauze and a bottle of something, but the label is faced away from you. she sets the ointment and gauze aside, uncapping the bottle.

"this is gonna hurt." she warns you as she grabs a rag from the disarrayed countertop and pours a bit of the liquid onto the fabric. when she places the bottle aside you manage to read the name of it. hydrogen peroxide. she notices your wary gaze and gives you a reassuring smile. "it's a disinfectant, it'll clean the wound to prevent any infections."

you nod, sighing through your nose as you hold your forearm out to her. she watches you with furrowed brows as she places the rag over the open wound. you instantly stiffen, wincing through the pain. your jaw clenches as the liquid seeps into open flesh. you squeeze your eyes shut, "fuck that hurts." you pant.

"i know, i know," she whispers, gentility laced between the threads of her tone. "it's okay, you'll feel better soon, just— just breathe,"

you try to do was she instructs, but your breath comes out choppy and uneven. you open your eyes to see her staring up at you with pursed lips and a knitted brow. the sheer worry in her gaze adds weight to the air that suffocates you. it presses down on your chest and further constricts your lungs, which only serves to deepen her worry.

you force yourself to look away, focusing instead on the wall behind ellie's head. you stare at it intently, though you remain unable to shake the queasy feeling that comes with knowing ellie's eyes are on your face, tracing every feature that adorns it.

finally, she removes the rag from your arm and you're flooded with the relief of no longer being burned from the inside out. she sets the cloth aside and grabs the ointment, squeezing a small dot of it onto her forefingers.

"will this hurt too?" you ask tentatively.

she shakes her head, "no, this will soothe the pain."

"okay." you nod. "i'm far more excited for this part then."

"i don't blame you," she says with a light laugh.

she then leans forward holding you arm with an indescribably delicacy. you find yourself yearning to lean into her touch, wanting to collapse in her arms. but, somehow, you find the strength to hold back and remain sitting upright on the toilet seat. she runs her fingers down the soft part of your forearm, coating you torn skin in an off-white salve. the cool temperature instantly soothes the pain and you let out a soft sigh at the feel of it.

"oh yeah, this is so much better," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your mouth.

she looks up at you through her lashes, head remaining downcast as she carefully adds more ointment. "how'd this happen anyway? you just took the wrap off?"

"the paramedic wrapped it too tight." you explain. "my fingers were going numb and i could feel my heartbeat in my forearm. he didn't add any of this fancy shit you're adding either."

she chuckles, "ointment and disinfectant, you mean? it's hardly fancy. i'd have thought a paramedic would be smart enough to know that." her teeth grit slightly as she clenches her jaw around the mention of the incompetent medic who handled you earlier. she shakes her head, "i should've stayed with you and made sure he'd done his job right."

"that's not you obligation, ellie." you remind her. "and look. you're helping me now far better than any medic would have. i almost prefer it this way."

"oh really?" she asks, unconvinced. "you prefer to have some strange woman attempt to fix you up in her messy bathroom than a licensed and highly qualified paramedic in an ambulance?"

you shrug, "well he apparently wasn't that highly qualified."

"true," she agrees with a laugh.

she finishes coating on the ointment and twists the cap back onto it before setting it on the countertop beside the discarded rag and peroxide. she grabs the roll of gauze and begins to unravel it.

you watch her with lidded eyes, the events of today beginning to catch up to you. it's hard to believe you'd woken up this morning thinking it'd be a normal day. you'd just gotten back from work when you smelt smoke from one of your neighbor's apartments. the though didn't click in your head until you saw flames beginning to crawl into your home. one thing lead to another, and now you're here. in the house of someone who you hadn't known five hours ago.

"still," you murmur as she starts to wrap the gauze, "i prefer you helping me because you actually care about my wellbeing and not just making as much money as possible. you're kind, ellie. i'd be a fool to prefer a medic over you."

she lifts her head to meet your eyes, her movements coming to a sudden halt. her pale green eyes bore into your own, something sensual and momentous passing between the space that separates you. the bathroom is enveloped into a long wave of silence, nothing done nor spoken.

the weight of your situation presses down on you both. ellie, in her baggy shorts and stained band tee, having invited a wounded stranger into her home ; you, in naught but a towel, feeling more at home in ellie's vicinity than you ever did anywhere else.

a tether is tied between you as you feel the weight of the world pull you toward ellie. you lean in, just barely, ready for something you can hardly even process at the time being. she does the same, completely disregarding the gauze and pinning every ounce of her attention to you and the closing gap between you.

your noses brush and a spark ignites deep within you, something in your soul screaming that this is correct. a celestial puzzle clicks into place when your lips meet hers, the stars in the sky and the soil under mother nature screaming with victory as the two of you connect.

she tastes of fire and desperation, you of toothpaste and exhaustion. your wounded arm means nothing to you when you shift forward to wrap them both around ellie's neck and tug her closer. she does, rising to her knees as she places her hands on each of your hips, only a thin white towel separating her hands from your bare skin. she leans into you, allowing her hands to feel and memorize the curves of your poorly covered body.

"wait," she mutters against your mouth, "wait wait wait."

you pull back, staring at her with curiosity. her pupils are blown, cheeks flushed, lips wet. everything in you begs to lean back in, but you force that feeling down and oblige by her wishes to part. "what is it?" you ask.

"just—" she cuts herself off with a sigh, staring into your eyes with naught but adoration behind her irises. "i really like you and, uh," she looks down, blinking harshly as she tries to voice her thoughts without fucking it all up. your heart melts at the sight, remaining patient as she sorts through her jumbled mind. "i want to take my time with you. i don't want this to just be some fling. i respect you more than that."

you continue to stare at her, your eyes doing all the talking when your mouth is out of words to say. after a long moment, you finally say, "that's fine, ellie. we can do whatever you're comfortable with."

her shoulders relax at the sound of her name on your tongue, spoken with such careful delicacy that it sounds like music, like it should be praised and studied for hundreds of years to come. not only that, but she softens at your words as well, eternally grateful for your understanding.

"we can still kiss though," she's quick to add.

you laugh, shaking your head fondly at her rush to make sure that's out of the way. you lean in, still smiling as your lips touch. everything falls into place around you, nothing aside from ellie mattering to you.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 taglist : @luvsturniolo @zombieegirl @elliestunna

[craftybookworms]

I am screaming at the character in my book like she literally made terrible choice after terrible choice and was somehow surprised everything literally blew up in her face!

I love books

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈

When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.

And fuck his aching for yours too.

If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.

But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.

Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.

Ding

Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.

You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...

At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.

The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."

Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.

You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.

He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.

Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.

Ding

It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.

"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."

You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.

He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."

The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.

Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.

Ding

One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."

Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.

Part 2:

[hypnagogics]

is this vore? /hj. hi. im gonna squeet. and dunk my head into ice water digital footprint pls forgive me. may have wrote this with one hand IM JOKING. this is just somethin quick because i need to get it out of my system ok.

nsfw drabble—biting sev all over ♡ sub!sevika, edging, fingering (all s! receiving), idk what else girl i can't see straight cuz of her...

and there she lay before you, bare and twitching, in a state she's kept very well hidden from everyone—except you.

her lip tucked under her teeth, head thrown back and half-lidded, blown out eyes lazily following your movements; she was laying sprawled on the mattess. she had tried and failed to hold herself up, both arms trembling under her weight until they eventually gave out.

this was the result of you—oh, how evil you were—edging the poor woman for an eternity. in actuality, you had tortured her to such a point she didn't even have the energy to bark orders at you like she usually does.

all she could do, was whine. whines of your name, wordless huffs and quiet pleas were all she could sound out. and every so often she'd squirm under you and break eye contact when you did something so obscene, even she couldn't handle it.

you wore the most wicked of sneers on your face excitedly, using all your strength to push her thick muscular thighs outward, until you gazed upon a sight worth winning wars for.

the torture you faced her with had her pussy throbbing. no, that was an understatement. you could see every individual muscle controlling her shiny lips jump at the cool air, you could see the way her clit was nearly whispering for you to touch it, and not to mention the pooling of pearlescent slick dribbling out of her pulsating hole, making a literal puddle under her ass.

now this? this was a never going to get old. you'd plaster the image of her fucked-out self on every surface, take a polaroid and carry it around with you. you were salivating. drool was almost running down your chin at the sight.

but alas, your blissful trance was cut short, by none other than her gruff voice.

"hey. you gonna stare or am i gonna have to finish this myself?" her voice shook, then her eyes darkened and she spat, "you'd like watching that though, wouldn't you. fuckin'—holy-!!"

you didn't give her the time of day to listen to her bitching about, and you cut her off by lunging forward and sinking your teeth into the soft flesh of her right inner thigh.

her shocked intake of air quickly turned into a pornographic moan, her back arching, her breathing quickening, and her thighs fighting to close around your head.

you knew that was her weakness. your teeth in her skin? pff she was a goner. you used that to your advantage as much as you could, she deserved earth shattering orgasms just as much as the next gal.

her noises were bordering on a shriek as soon as you circled her hole with a digit, grinning into her skin at the way she was sucking you in, legitimately trapping your finger inside her.

you felt the flutters of an impending orgasm tickle your immobilized finger, and with great effort you removed your mouth from her thigh and pulled your finger out.

the look on her face when you did that felt sharper than if she had stabbed a spear right through your heart. when sevika gives one of her famed death glares, the word stops spinning. but you being you, it just spurs you on more.

before she can protest you migrate up and place gentle kisses on the side of her neck, right on her pulse point, as a soothing motion before you did what you really wanted.

you sank your teeth in her flesh as hard as your jaw allowed you to, the tangy taste of her blood invading your mouth.

simultaneously, you brought your hand back down to her neglected pussy, pushed your thumb up against her thumping clit, and slid your two middle digits inside her—within moments finding her spongy sweet spot.

the cries of pleasure were stuck in her throat, and you couldn't see from what you were doing, but you'd bet your entire life's savings that her eyes were rolled so far back in her skull only the whites would be visible.

your fingers were working hard, all in harmony to bring her to that peak she so craved, and luckily it hit her after no time at all.

her whole being tensed, a low groan reverberated through the room as one of her hands flew to grab a chunk of your hair, further pushing your body flush against hers. you didn't move your mouth, it was suctioned against her in such a way that was guaranteed to leave a nasty bruise on her skin the next day, but she loved it. you did as well.

you felt a gush of warm fluid on your palm, and chuckled into her skin while she shook all over, needy, animalistic noises being all she could produce.

you put in the work and made sure she was utterly spent, then lifted yourself off of her to enjoy the look on her face. she looked so at peace, so satisfied and ethereal, you adored her more than words could ever say.

and likewise, she did you. she cracked open one eye and smiled widely, opening her arms and beckoning for you to lay back on top of her in an embrace.

naturally, you did just that. eagerly burying your face in the crook of your neck, you kissed over the bite mark you left, ran your tongue over the indents in her skin and reveled in the little whimpers she made.

she always had more flesh you could lovingly bite, why stop at just one square inch?

sev taglist (not tagging everyone still cuz YALL SIGNED UP FOR TLOU AND IM A PEOPLE PLEASERRRR SORRY): @fizyypopp @luvssliyahh @wizard-pdf @dearangxl @melsmunch

[solelifauna]

When you say the love interest might be worse, does that mean "being mean to reader" wise or "being possessive over the reader" wise?

ERMMM...both I'd say. The love interest for the Werewolf AU is Jon Kent. He's about the same age as the reader and older than Damian by one year (From the time-skip space mission that he went on that aged him). But bro, this boy is fucking nuts.

Yes, Kryptonians aren't werewolves in this universe, but Lois Lane is. And a strong one at that, coming from a military family and all that jazz. So Jon Lane Kent is literally one of the strongest beings on earth, being half-kryptonian and half-werewolf.

Now i know what youre thinking.

But wouldn't Jon also be outcasted from werewolf society/wouldn't the bats not like him cause he's a half-blood?

WRONG!!! Yes, Jon is a half-blooded werewolf, but the other half is Kryptonian, one of the strongest species in the universe. If anything, his breeding makes him a very respected figure and the Bats definitely find him worthy. He and Damian are still the best of friends.

Now Jon's relationship with (Y/n). Yikes. Funnily enough, it was (Y/n) who started crushing on Jon first. She'd see him around the manor often, and she'd watch as he interacted with the Waynes or messed around with Damian. From what she could see, he seemed nicer than her family, so maybe she could be friends with him right? Plus, he's super cute!

And of course, this doesn't end well. I mean, this is a dark au. First off, Superman doesn't quite see humans as equals. Werewolves, they have his respect, and all the other races too. Yes, Clark Kent's adoptive parents were humans, and yes he loved them, but they were weak. Fragile even. And he made sure to instill that teaching in Jon as well.

Did Jon love his grandparents? Absolutely, but that meant that Ma and Pa stayed confined to Smallville and their house. They were too weak, they needed to be protected.

Lois also helped push Werewolf culture onto him as well. Weaker werewolves and humans were subservient to the stronger, and if necessary, could be killed and eaten. Jon didn't quite get the eating part, finding it quite gross actually, until he had his first taste of flesh. And, yikes, the boy was hooked.

In his mind, humans were either things to be taken care of (like pets) or food.

What's even more scary is that he's sweet around his family and friends, but those he deems as lesser? Well, let's just hope you don't catch him in a bad mood or piss him off. Which is why when weak, pitiful, abandoned (Y/n) Wayne comes up to him, he's insulted.

Why on earth did you even think you were worthy of talking to him?

Yes, he's seen you watching them, lurking around the manor, keeping your distance. It was quite annoying actually, he could practically hear your heart leaping out of its chest every time you saw him. He knew your intentions, trying to make friends with him.

He just looked down at you, eyes pooling with something nobody could explain, whilst you smiled at him and made small talk. Or tried to make small talk.

"Damian, should I snap her neck? Or is your family still insistent on the old laws?" Jon says.

You freeze, eyes widening in fear. Ah...you've made a severe lapse in judgment.

So much for a new friend.

"You know what? How 'bout I just go?" You quip nervously before trying to run off.

It's too bad Damian grabs you by the back of your shirt, basically choking you in the process. You let out a strangled noise as your body loses balance and lurches backward. When Damian lets go, your having a mad coughing fit, trying to get as much air as you could into your lungs.

Damian only makes an annoyed sound while Jon watches, a sick type of glee in his eyes. "When the time comes friend, you may feast with us. Now (Y/n), apologize to Jon."

You do not even have to think twice about that. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I shouldn't have approached you, I'm sorry." And at this point, you're crying. (reader is 14 when this happens)

And god doesn't that make Jon smile. He wouldn't deny, that you were pretty (I mean, you do have half of Bruce Wayne's DNA). But as much as he'd consider coveting you, you weren't worth that honor, no, he'd much rather taste your sweet, sweet flesh. (He could practically smell it wafting off you).

But alas, he'd have to wait.

But of course, in normal yandere fashion, he goes from wanting to eat you to wanting to eat you. The obsession starts to change around (Y/n)'s 16th birthday party that the Waynes throw. It's customary that all children do some public ball or whatever, so this was yours. Jon and his family are there obviously, and you're there as well, looking as miserable and tired as usual (and still somehow being the most beautiful thing in the building). However, he sees you light up in a way he's never seen you do before when your (what he's guessing) friends show up. They're human. They're weak, like you.

Seeing you interact with them, hearing you talk normally(super-hearing, duh) without fear, watching the way you laughed...He realizes he wants. And he wants bad.

Looks like you've got a new problem now.

Anyways, this is all I got!! I don't want to spoil the story more than I already have, but yeah, say hello to "absolutely bonkers Jon Kent". Hope you enjoyed!!!

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

More of my diabetic Steve verse!

Steve, who doesn’t realize that Eddie is super famous and robin who could literally not care any less.

Steve and Eddie exchange numbers and text all of the time. It takes a week for Eddie to crack and send this message:

Eddie: Please for the love of god let me take you on a date I need to wine and dine you so hard I think I might pass out

Steve obviously says yes.

Eddie takes them to a small diner because he doesn’t want to risk being seen by crazy fans who somehow always find out where he is. If Eddie is being honest, he blames twitter.

Eddie gets there to find Steve already sitting at a booth, fiddling with something on his phone. His glasses are sliding down his nose again and he is wearing a Wham! graphic t-shirt and light wash jeans. He stands up once he notices Eddie and flashes a huge grin, which causes Eddie to also smile.

They both sit down on their respective sides of the table and get comfortable, making small talk. It takes a bit, but Eddie notices that Steve has the menu pulled up on his phone and laughs.

“Doing some homework?”

Steve looks confused for a second before glancing down.

“Oh yeah! I always make sure to look at it beforehand whenever I go out to make sure that I have options depending on my blood sugar level.”

“What’s your… number, is that the correct term, now?”

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yes! And let me check.” Steve pulls out a cute green pouch and takes out a bunch of supplies. “I just changed my CGM—“ At Eddie’s confused look, he says, “My glucose monitor. It’s not completely synced yet so I can’t rely on my pod to tell me what level I’m actually at.”

After he says that, Steve cleans his finger with an alcohol wipe, lets it dry, and then pricks his finger. He squeezes the pad of his ring finger and blood pools to the surface.

“Yikes. I’m gonna have to give myself a correction or two.”

Steve cleans up the space but leaves his pouch out, and then wraps a sparkly bandaid on his finger.

“What’s a correction?”

Eddie feels dumb. He wishes he knew more about diabetes and actually researched it before showing up to the diner with no prior knowledge.

“I just give myself a little extra insulin to make my blood sugar go down. I’m flirting with 250 right now and I really want a burger.”

—

The date passes swimmingly and the two men find themselves sitting in the same booth at the same diner, but on the same side. Their hands are intertwined and Steve wrapped up half of his meal to take home.

“I made this for you!” Steve says suddenly. He grabs a stack of stapled papers and hands them to Eddie. “I made you a ‘diabetes guide!’ Since I plan on our relationship being permanent, it would give me peace of mind if you knew what to do in case of an emergency.”

Steve begins thumbing through the packet and explaining everything, but Eddie can hardly focus.

Not with Steve clutching his hand or with him wanting their relationship to become “permanent.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “I understand if this is a dealbreaker or whatever, but I just like you so much and I want to be your boyfriend as of two weeks ago.”

Eddie just blinks. Then he smiles. “We only met a week ago, Stevie.”

Steve blushes, tucks some hair behind his ear. “I know that. I just had a feeling that I would meet the one.”

“Yeah?” A pause. “Can I kiss you?”

Steve releases a breath. Puts his hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask. I hope you don’t mind the taste of hamburger.”

Eddie laughs before lunging forward.

—

As they head back to Steve’s apartment hand in hand, Eddie tells him about his more than ordinary job. Explains what might happen when people see them together.

Steve just laughs and says, “I’ve fought literal monsters from hell, I can handle anything.”

Eddie falls more in love than he knew possible.

[scientia-rex]

I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 4

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

THIS IS BAD! I have updated the tags on AO3, but I'll add it on here too:

Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Master. Master, you need to wake up! The shadows were the ones that woke him. Azriel blinked open his eyes… and a moment later the thick cloying scent of blood hit him.

It woke him up immediately. He shot upright on the couch, shadows rushing around him. The scent of blood came from Zahra’s room. 

Nobody else was in the cottage. He knew that. The shadows would have alerted him if there was. 

Which meant that…

He was up before he could think twice about it, hurrying to the door of her room, heart beating furiously, already dreading what might have happened. What she might have done to herself.  “Zahra?” Azriel asked loudly. “Zahra, are you alright?”

A choked gasp, a pitiful moan…all he needed to hear. “I am coming in.“ he warned her. Azriel pushed open the door…and he froze at the threshold of the doorway, staring at the sight awaiting him. 

This couldn’t all be her blood. 

Right? 

Zahra lay in the middle of the bed, curled on her side. Her body shook through painful shivers and her skin had already taken on a worrying grey colour, near lifeless. 

And the bed…the sheets…they were a mess of crimson. 

Blood had soaked through the sheets, staining the mattress…It was…it was horrific.

“Go away.” She whispered, her voice weak. “Please.”

Yeah. That was so not happening. 

His heart was pounding, his chest nearly painfully tight as his eyes focused on her. On Zahra’s shaking body, on her pale face. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Azriel said softly, his voice strained. Gods. What had she done to herself?  “Where are you hurt? What did you do?” He demanded, coming closer, reaching out to touch her arms. Her throat and wrists were unblemished, if one ignored the cold sweat…just as she whimpered again, nearly violently flinching, doubling over.

Between one breath and the next…suddenly it snapped.

The golden bond unfurled to the smell of his mate’s blood, to the sound of her pain.

“I…” she tried to speak, but her words became caught in her throat, choked off by another gasp of pain. By the Mother…

Azriel could feel the bond between them. It seemed to hum in his very bones, demanding that he fix this, that he find the cause of her pain and make it stop.

He knelt on the bed, his knees sinking into the pool of blood, hands hovering above her.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked her desperately.

She just whimpered, her whole body shivering. “Can’t you just….leave me alone?” She asked brokenly, her voice cracking. “Please. It’s just…”

Azriel ignored her, carefully shifting her body until she was lying on her back. But in doing so, he accidentally brushed against her stomach, and all he could think was that he had literally never heard a scream so painful.

Her nightgown was drenched with sweat and blood…dark red right by…

„Have you had your cycle yet as a fae?“ Azriel asked sharply. But that shouldn’t…this was too much blood for that…wasn’t it?

Her eyes were scrunched shut, her face a twisted rictus of agony. She shook her head at his question, teeth clenching. “No…” she said through clenched teeth, her voice high with pain. “No, I haven’t gotten one..”

Which made no sense either because she had…because she had been a fae for nearly three years at this point. Zahra should have gone through multiple cycles by now. 

And while fae cycles were vicious, they weren’t…

They didn’t involve this much blood. Usually. 

Another whimper of pain, another tremble of that bond in his chest…and Azriel was done. 

Madja. He needed Madja.

“I’ll get Madja,” he told Zahra tightly, hands gently cupping her face. “I just need to go get her, and then I’ll be right back,” he promised her desperately, just as another choked-off moan came from her. 

The shadows came flowing out of the corners of the room, pressing against Zahra's face. Go, Master! they demanded.

Azriel’s throat closed up. He hated the thought of leaving her, even for a moment. But he gave a sharp, resolute nod. “Okay..okay, I will be right back.”

He gave her one last look, her pale face and dark hair soaked with sweat and blood, and then he was gone. 

“Madja!! Madja!” He bellowed. He wasn’t normally one to be panicked, he was an Illyrian trained from birth to be calm under stress, to keep his head. But this…Gods, this had his heart in his throat and his mind racing.

This was his mate. 

He had waited half a millennia for her and she had been right in front of his nose for three years and he hadn’t fucking seen it. 

If he had seen it earlier, maybe then it would have never gotten this bad, maybe then it wouldn’t have…

He was quite sure that he gave Madja half a heart attack, but quite frankly, Madja was used to worse from him and his family. 

And so, Madja only took one look at his panicked, wild expression and her own went serious. “What happened?” She asked as she rose from her chair.

“It’s Zahra,” Azriel said, his voice thick. He swallowed, trying to get a grip. “She’s…bleeding. So much…blood. It’s everywhere, it’s all over her bed and clothes and…gods, I don’t know what happened, but I need you to come, now.”

Madja’s eyes widened, her hands going to the satchel at the table. “Take me to her.” She said simply, shoving a few jars into her bag. 

Zahra was where he had left her, shadows worriedly swirling around her. And the sigh that greeted them made even Madja’s breath hitch. 

“Zahra, can you hear me?” Madja asked immediately. “I am going to help you, alright?”

Zahra’s eyes flickered but didn’t open. Her breaths were uneven and pained, her face twisted. “Y-yeah…” she panted, voice quavering.

Azriel knelt by the bed, one hand coming down to hers and lacing their fingers together. He could feel the damp and icy cold skin against his…her heartbeat skittering underneath her skin…Azriel was practically shaking himself with how worried he was, his whole body trembling with fear.

“You’re going to be just fine,” he murmured softly. “Madja is here, she will figure out what’s wrong.”

Zahra groaned, her fingers giving a weak twitch in his before gripping onto his hand like a lifeline.

“Hurts..” she whimpered, her voice cracking.

“I know,“ Madja said soothingly. “I’ll need to lift your nightgown, alright? Just to see where we are at.“

Zahra gave a low whine, her eyes scrunching up tighter, but she made no protest or move to stop the healer. Azriel didn’t know if she did that because she trusted Madja or because she was far too far gone to even care. Madja carefully peeled back the blood-soaked fabric, carefully lifting it up over her stomach.

Azriel kept his eyes on Zahra's face, pressing a kiss against the back of her hand.  “Squeeze as tight as you need to,” he told her softly. 

“What if I hurt you?” she forced out, but he just shook his head. 

“You won’t,” Azriel promised her simply. And even if she did…he wouldn’t care. He would have given everything in that moment to make sure that she was comforted even a tiny little bit. 

Her face was drenched in sweat, her body quivering, and she looked far too young, too fragile at that moment. 

He forgot sometimes, how young she really was. Not even a century yet. Not even…

But she still squeezed his hand tighter. Her eyes clenched closed, her breaths laboured and quick. “Hurts…it hurts so badly…” she whimpered brokenly.

Whatever Madja was doing to her…Zahra’s breathing was becoming panicked and even more pained, her whole body shaking. 

Azriel was having to restrain the urge to pull her into his arms, to tug her up against his chest and try to soothe her. To drag her away from Madja, who he knew was only trying to help and instead comfort his mate. 

So instead, he pressed another kiss to her sweat-slick skin even as she cried out sharply. The sound made him flinch. 

“Gods,” Madja cursed sharply and Azriel’s head snapped towards her. She was looking far more upset than Azriel had ever seen her. 

“What is it? “ he asked shakily, Zahra whimpering and he turned back towards her, unable to tear his gaze away from the anguished, pain-filled face of his mate. “What’s happening?

“You should have been brought to me immediately, Zahra” Madja said softly. “I could have lessened the pain, dear.”

Zahra didn’t say a word, biting her lips, her face still pulled up into a pain-filled grimace. 

“How often?” Madja asked, her voice softening.  

Zahra’s breaths were hitching, coming in shallow pants as her trembling increased. She shook her head softly, her words coming out between gasps. “Often,” she’d whimpered.

Zahra gave another moan, and her hand clenched even harder around Azriel’s. Every one of her shudders and flinches was like a knife straight into his heart.

He had no idea what they were talking about, but it couldn’t be good, he knew that much. 

“How old were you the first time?” Madja asked gently.

“15,” Zahra whispered, wetting her lips. Every single word seemed to be forced out of her chest.  “I was 15.“

15…so young. Gods, so damn young.

Madja’s face was grim, “And the last?” The healer questioned.

“It went on for 6 years,” Zahra whispered. “Until 4 years ago.”

Madja nodded tightly. “You were still human,” Madja said softly. “The scarring is…extensive. Humans heal slower don’t they?”

“Yes,” Zahra whispered.

Azriel’s heart was hammering in his chest, his mind racing to try to catch up to the conversation that was happening. He felt so goddamn useless. There was something wrong, so wrong, and he couldn’t do a thing to try and help. The feeling of helplessness was killing him.

And this…this sounded like they were implying something so awful that he daren’t voice it. 

“What’s wrong with her?” He demanded. “What do you mean by scarring?”

Madja’s hands were moving across the skin of Zahra’s abdomen, pressing down gently, something that resulted in Zahra’s whole body flinching “There is extensive scarring in her reproductive system.” The healer told him bluntly. “Like she has been injured for an extended period. Over and Over.”

Zahra let out a shuddering gasp, her head tilting to press into the pillows and away from the healer’s hands.

“Cauldron, sunshine, what happened to you?” Azriel whispered.

He hadn’t actually expected an answer. He got one nonetheless.

“I did what I had to. I always did what I had to,” Zahra whispered, green eyes begging him to understand. “We had no money and Feyre was sick and… Was I supposed to let my little sister die?” Azriel went utterly still at her words

She had…she had done something to her own body to save her sister. Something bad enough to give her scars on her internal organs. What the hell had she ever done to cause this much damage?

“What did you do?” He forced out.

Her breath was shaky. “I gave the only thing that was mine to give up. The only thing that…the only thing that that apothecary would want,” she recounted with a shudder. Azriel’s blood went cold, freezing in his veins.

He didn’t…he couldn’t possibly mean…

“He raped you.” He whispered.

He wished she would disagree…would tell him that that hadn’t happened…but what she did say…it was even worse. 

“I went to him willingly. I let him do this to me. I didn’t fight him,” Zahra corrected him, her voice weak. 

Like that made it any better. Like that…

“You were so young,” he said softly. “Gods…Zahra..” his voice broke, and he couldn’t speak anymore.

He didn’t even have the words…didn’t even have the thoughts…didn’t…

“He hurt you,” he choked out.  It wasn’t a question.

A shuddering breath from her. 

“Yes,” Zahra answered weakly. “It…I did it once for medicine. But after that…I did it for money. I came back and I let him do it to me again. And again. And when he got bored, he thought of something new, something worse and…He did things to me…I didn’t even know you could do that to another person.” 

His entire body was shaking with rage. The shadows wreathing around him darkened almost into black. 

He had never wanted to rip another person into pieces with his bare hands as much as he wanted to right now. 

Madja stilled next to them, her hands still on Zahra’s skin…trying to heal the worst of it, Azriel could feel that. 

The healer’s face was carefully blank, but Azriel had known her long enough to see the subtle signs of anger. Madja had an incredibly good mask, but Azriel was able to read people when they didn’t want to be read.

And…there was another thing…

“Do your sisters know?” he asked weakly. Did they know and still treated Zahra like they did? Ignored her outright at some points and wished she didn’t exist at others? 

The dynamic had been fucked up from the start…the first time they had met Zahra she had been in her maid uniform…clearly treated not as a member of their family but as staff. 

But they had believed…they all had believed that maybe the change from human to fae was good for one thing and that would fall away…that this could heal…that all 4 of them could be sisters, properly, now. Maybe something that went well for once. 

Now Azriel wondered how naive he had been in particular. 

He was a bastard just as she was. Azriel would never be accepted by his half-brothers either. His half-brothers had ruined his hands. And her sisters…

“Nesta…Nesta thinks I had an affair with a married man,” Zahra choked out. “Which I did. Kind of.” 

A horrible, bitter laugh tore itself out of the Azriel’s chest. “An affair…” he repeated, disbelieving. “You didn’t have an affair. You were raped.”

“I let him do it. I did it willingly,” Zahra disagreed, her voice weak. 

She had agreed, because otherwise they would have starved. 

“You were fifteen!” Azriel whispered, anger flaring up with his grief. “You were a child! You were nothing but a goddamn child. And you did what you had to to survive. You sacrificed yourself for your family’s survival!” He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to get a grip on his own emotions.

Madja’s hands were still moving over the skin of her stomach, her face set in a heavy grimace.

Zahra’s eyes were fixed on his face, her breaths still shallow and pained. “I am sorry.”

He couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand her apologies. Not right now. Not for this.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to the back of her hand.

“You were just a child,” Azriel repeated, voice choked. “None of this is your damn fault.” For once… she didn’t protest. 

Zahra just closed her eyes, a few tears trickling out from between her lashes.

Madja’s hands stilled, and then the healer carefully pulled away. She didn’t say anything, and Azriel felt a new fear fill his chest. “What is it?” He asked her. “What’s wrong?”

“The scarring is…extensive,” Madja said carefully. “I am…I am sorry, but I think you may be barren.”

Zahra didn’t even flinch.

“I know,” Zahra answered, her voice flat. “I haven’t bled in years until now.” The words were like someone driving an ice-cold knife between his ribs and into his heart.

He didn’t care that she couldn’t carry his children. He didn’t fucking care. 

He only needed to know that she was safe and healthy…But to know she had been hurting for so many years…to know that she had sacrificed herself for her family…it broke his heart. 

And they didn’t even know that she had done that. 

Madja’s expression darkened further. Perhaps at the thought of what Zahra had been forced to endure, or perhaps because this new information opened up a whole other level of complication.

“That…does explain why the bleeding has been so severe,” the healer said. “Gods, child.”

There was silence in the room, Azriel still gripping Zahra’s hand in his. 

He didn’t care that she couldn’t give him children, not unless she wanted to. But the fact that she would never have a choice in the matter. That she had sacrificed not just her innocence, but the future she could have had, for her family’s sake…

He clenched his jaw so tightly he was surprised it didn’t crack.

Zahra was staring up at the ceiling, her emotions carefully schooled and hidden away. So cold and indifferent…so numb. Numb. 

He could recognise the signs because he often felt like that as well. 

Azriel wanted to hold her. He wanted to pull her up to his chest and into his arms and hide her from the entire world. From all the horrors and nightmares that she had been forced to endure.

Protecting and keeping her and making sure she never hurt again…

“I have some potions for you to take…I’ll ask Violet to make you some specially tailored for you…” Madja said softly. 

Violet was the apothecary they used for most of their potions. And also the one that Zahra did the accounts for. 

Azriel forced himself to nod. Zahra made some vague murmur of understanding, as Madja put said potions on the bedside table. 

Madja turned her gaze to Azriel, dark eyes searching his face. “You should stay with her tonight,” she said quietly. “Make sure the bleeding doesn’t get worse and call me immediately if it does.”

Azriel nodded again. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, not unless Zahra asked him to leave.

The healer rose, giving another glance at the two of them. She made a sound in the back of her throat, as though she wanted to say something, but she just gave a single nod before turning and leaving the room.

And then it was just the two of them in the room. Azriel sat crouched next to her on the bed, his hand still clamped around hers.

He didn’t know what the damn hell he was supposed to say.

“I’m sorry.” And there she was, apologizing yet again for something that wasn’t her fault in the least. 

His eyes widened at her voice, the unexpectedness of it breaking the silence in the room.

“What?” He asked, his voice cracking. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

She didn’t open her eyes, but he saw her expression flicker slightly. “For…for this.” She said hoarsely. “For making you deal with this.”

His heart felt like it was collapsing in on itself again. “You didn’t make me do anything,” he said quietly. “And you have nothing to apologise for.”

[blkkizzat]

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kizzatober series: Smooth Criminals

Kinktober Prompts: Clothed Male/Naked Female, Thigh Riding, Knife Play Synopsis: The university campus is being terrorized by a copycat Ghostface killer. As a popular sorority girl with a dumb jock bf, you are a prime choice to be his next victim especially given how he can't stop thinking about you. But you're no ordinary Sorority Girl bimbo, now are you? CW: AU college fic. blood obsession/hematolagnia, bimbo reader, murder, slight DV (from your npc jerk ass bf), unprotected sex, masturbation, slight age gap (roughly 21 vs 28) and dark content. NOTE: If death/killer romanticization related shit triggers you this is probably a fic to avoid because that is happening all through this bitch. I literally wrote a murder fluff smut fic lmfao. WC: 6.5k of 15.4k Lightly black fem coded (reader is an AKA lmfao) but no descriptors.

A/N: This is my first kinktober fic! I'm sorry this took so long y'all but last week been low key hell and I was sick for a lot of it. Also I did struggle with this a bit since this one I decided to do as an whole fic instead of PWP and now its gotten to be so long its definitely going to be in two parts. Sorry there's no smut in the first part, but there is some fluff and some juicy build up. I've never written for Choso before but he's so baby girl omg I'm obsessed with him now but still I'm a bit nervous posting this. sorry if its dog.

Enjoy!

“Ever felt a knife rip through human flesh and scrape the bone beneath?”

Those were the last words a nameless student heard before Ghostface's hunting knife shined menacingly in the air and came down to claim its newest victim.

Shluk! Shluk! Shluk!

Metal slashed through flesh with razor precision.

Gurgled death cries are silenced as the lifeless body collapses to the ground. 

A thick pool of blood began gathering around them to fan out and travel around their body down the slanted titled floor to drain. 

Choso breathed in deeply. 

A wave of calm washed over him. 

Peace. 

Almost in an enlightened state, he felt the most serene after a kill. 

It was beautiful. 

Blood was beautiful.

The surging stream of blood that would eventually slow to a trickle, the abstract designs of its splatter and the way it swirled around the body splayed across the ground like paint on a canvas.

Like a painting. 

A death painting… and the knife, his paintbrush. 

This was his art.

Choso can recall the first time he actually saw blood beyond a minor scrape. 

He couldn’t have been more than 6 years old. No doubt trying to impress his younger brother Yuji by balancing on top of the monkey bars. After all this time Choso isn’t certain as to how, but he lost his footing and fell flat on his face onto the unforgiving concrete below.

Screams of children filled the area once Choso pushed himself up onto his feet. He immediately felt wetness rush down his face. However, rather than cry or panic a young Choso cocked his head curiously when he noticed his reflection on the metal jungle gym. A warped view of his face mirrored back at him but he could still make out the bright red fluid cascading down his features staining him in red. 

Choso didn’t know how long he stood transfixed, mesmerized by the sight of rouge river that flowed from him until Yuji ran back crying with their parents in tow. 

It was how he had the scar across the bridge of his nose till this day, which became unsightly enough he had decided to get a black bar tattooed over it as soon as he turned 18. 

From then on he couldn’t deny his growing obsession with blood and seeing it leave the human body. All of which had led him here to this university to attain a PHD in Forensics. 

He picked this university, not only for their program but it was the perfect small town playground for Ghostface, a local urban legend from years ago he decided to revive once he felt as he had attained enough knowledge not to get caught.  

Choso was meticulous in his process. 

Ironclad alibis, no distinctive patterns and no victims with any connections to each other, nor him. Additionally, he had memorized all the angles of the university’s security system (thanks to a security guard he had bribed then promptly killed). 

His victims' lives were just his means to an end for his art and most students on this campus wouldn’t amount to much anyway outside of that was how he justified it. Choso did like toying with them on occasion though, fear made the blood pump faster and spray harder once he finally did catch them. 

Sadly, he could never admire his creations for too long though before needing to make his own exit. 

Almost midnight. 

Ten more minutes before campus security makes another round.

He took one last glance at the scene of carnage he had created before disappearing into the night. 

☠

In just a mere 2 hours, the news of another Ghostface murder spread across campus. 

The university’s students were either scared, scattering back to barricade themselves in their dorms. Or curious, lingering around the crime scene near the safety of the news crews and reporters who had gathered to see who the unlucky victim was this time.

No one however, is likely more curious than you: A third year forensics undergrad, who was just itching to get a real glimpse of your first real crime scene, a Ghostface copycat killer crime scene at that! 

You had even left a huge frat party (to be fair it was about to get broken up soon anyway) to trek across campus in the bitter cold of late fall. 

“Y/N, let’s go back–,” one of your pledges whined, “–it’s cold and my feet hurt in these heels!”

“Shh, Stassi, shut up! What if this is an initiation test?” another pledge whispered. 

Your sorority pledges chatter on behind you and you almost forgot you brought them along. It’s not like you wanted to but, like it or not, they were attached to you at the hip like little ducklings until rush was over.

With a clap you turn on your heel to address them.

“Ladies–” 

However you abruptly stop once you see your Forensics TA, Choso Kamo, taking what appeared to be a night jog across the campus quad. 

Was he going to the crime scene too? Your face instantly lights up and your pledges look around confused.

“Wait here girlies! I’ll be 5 minutes max…. No, I mean it. Wait right here!”    

Your pledges huff quietly, but agree. 

They had no choice really as you were already skipping as fast as your not-so-sober legs would carry you in 5-inch pumps over the quad lawn. Truthfully, that was not something they were trying to do too, especially not to chase down what looked like some creepy emo nerd.

“Choso!”

You call out to him and wave, but he doesn’t look like he sees you as you hurry towards him.

“Hey Choooo! Wait up!”  You puffed out, trying to maneuver over the grass in your heels. 

Choso sighed recognizing your voice, reluctantly slowing his pace. He would have kept on jogging but he knew you would keep calling out to him and draw even more attention that he really didn’t need right now.

Finally catching up to him, you grab Choso’s arm and loop yours through. He flinched slightly at your touch but you knew he always seemed a bit jumpy when it came to physical contact, so this didn’t phase you. 

If anything you thought his reactions were kinda cute.

“Where are you going weirdo? All the action is back that way!” You teased with a big grin and pointed in the direction of the crime scene.

Choso tries to ignore how his adrenaline was pumping even faster from you holding on to him than when he was running, especially dressed as you were. 

You looked sexy as hell utterly ridiculous.

You were decked out in a sailor costume, which was pretty much just a poor excuse for lingerie at this point. Your white sailor flap collar attached to nothing more than a sparkly navy bra with shiney white and red trims, leaving your midsection exposed showing your cute little belly ring in the shape of an anchor. 

This was complemented by a dangerously short yet matching sparkling navy pleated skirt which sat low on your thick hips. Your shapely legs were the most covered part of your body yet still looked overwhelmingly tempting in red glittery garters, attached to white opaque stockings in glittery red heels.

“I’m the weirdo… but you’re dressed like that in 40 degree weather.” Choso retorted, brow raised.

“Duh Choso–” 

You released his arm to give him a twirl in your outfit, not noticing the way he nervously wet his lips watching your skirt rise with your little spin.

“–The ‘Get Nauti’ party was tonight silly, where have you been!?”

Oh you know, just casually killing someone. Choso resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

Of course he knew about the party. 

The campus had been littered with fliers for ‘Get Nauti’ for the past two weeks. Nothing Choso would ever be interested in as he would rather stab himself in the face than attend a mind-numbing party with a bunch of bro-for-brain frat guys. 

However, he did take advantage of the opportunity to create another death painting as Ghostface with the rest of campus preoccupied. 

He couldn’t tell you that though obviously.

“Gym,” Choso said flatly and shrugged, “Heading back to the dorms n-”

“–You mean you aren't going to the Social Sciences building!? Don’t you remember?!” You cut him off in your excitement. 

“The police said they would let us forensic students look at the next crime scene!”

Your face had a warm glow and your movements slightly swayed. You were clearly drunk.

“No Y/N, they said they might let the PhD students, like me, look at the crime scene… and that was only a slim ‘maybe’. You’re still just an undergrad”, he reminded you, much to your dismay as you puffed your cheeks.

But seriously, Choso thought, even the incompetent local police would have enough sense not to let you on the crime scene dressed as you are now, even if you were a PhD student. 

“Awe no fair,” you whine dejectedly. “But you should go, Cho! Then you can tell me all about it! Pleaseeee, I’m dying to know what a Ghostface crime scene looks like. I hear it’s kinda gruesome!”

You gazed up at Choso through fluttering long lashes as you poked out your cherry glossed lips. It was a pout that could famously leave any frat boy at your mercy, but it never seemed to stir Choso much (that you could tell at least).

Choso swallowed. 

On the contrary, your charms worked rather well on him. His mouth was dry and he unconsciously clenched and unclenched a sweat ridden palm behind his back. 

The hell were you doing being this excited over a crime scene? One of his crime scenes for that matter? 

Choso really didn’t know what to make of that.

“Y/N it’s late. I still have papers to grade. I’m going back to my dorm now and you should get home too,” Choso said flatly, trying to keep his cool although fatigue was etched into his voice.

He was in peak physical form but still feeling the strain given he just chased his last victim all over the Social Sciences building. Not to mention still having assignments to grade. All which would be fine if he also wasn’t on edge from you right now as well.

“Booooo…Choso yo– ahchoo!” You sneezed from the cold. 

The effects of alcohol could only do so much to keep you warm in these low temperatures while you were standing still. 

With another sigh Choso unzipped his black track jacket, taking it off and putting it around your shoulders. 

He was doing so as much for your sake as his own. Choso couldn’t help but notice your boobs looking like they were going to pop out of your flimsy sailor bra at any moment when you folded your arms underneath them for warmth.

He was really doing his best to maintain eye contact with you.

“Awe thanks Cho, you’re so chivalrous!” You giggled, blushing as you snuggled into his jacket. 

You could still feel his body heat lingering on the material but the heady scent of oak and sandwood from his cologne warmed you even more.

You also couldn’t help but stare as the black compression turtleneck he wore underneath clung to his body like a second skin. You had suspicions he was fit but you never saw him wear anything beyond his dark colored button ups and shaggy sweaters when in class. 

“Now go home, Y/N. You shouldn’t even be out here alone this late.” 

Choso’s stern voice snapped you out of your ogling.

“But I’m not alone silly!” 

You pointed to the group of scared and shivering freshmen girls also in various states of sparkly undress all for the sake of ‘getting nauti’ standing on a paved path not too far off. 

They looked absolutely miserable. 

“I have my pledges!” 

Choso gave you an incredulous look. You were too clueless. 

“So let me get this straight… You are drunk. You have drunk freshmen with you, who shouldn’t even be drinking in the first place…and you plan on taking them to a murder scene? Where the cops are?” You made an “OH” face and absentmindedly laughed as you came to the realization it probably wasn’t the best look for Chapter VP of the AKAs to take a bunch of drunk and terrified freshmen pledges straight into a recent crime scene. Even if you could put an academic spin on it as it was relevant to your major classes.

Yikes, and on second thought, your house mom would flip her entire shit if she found out.

“Go home Y/N,” Choso said again, shaking his head.

“Besides, you should be more focused on the Chemistry lab midterm on Monday. You know you can’t afford to fail.”

You sulked but relented, he was right. On both accounts.

As your T.A. for that class Choso knew better than anyone just how much your grade depended on passing that lab and you hadn’t even so much as glanced at your notes yet this week.

“Aye Aye, Capitan Choso, sir!” you teased giving him a salute with a wink and lifted knee, your sailor skirt lifting a bit higher.

It was a cute move, or it would have been at least if it hadn't caused your weight to shift all on to one foot. The heel of the sparkly red glitter pump baring your weight sunk into the patch of soft soil beneath you causing your foot to pop out of the shoe as you tumble forward. 

You would have definitely ate shit and embarrassed yourself in front of Choso, your pledges and whoever else was walking across the quad at this time of night if Choso’s quick reflexes didn’t catch you. 

You let out a squeak and waved your arms as you fell tits first onto Choso’s hard chest. 

Shit. 

Choso could feel your hardened nipples pressing against him through the flimsyass costume you wore. He tried hard to focus on how cold it was outside. Anything rather than how warm your body felt up against him or how his biceps tensed from the tight grip of your delicate fingers that sought stability from him.

You grinned sheepishly. You thanked him for catching you not realizing the position you were in nor the torment you were putting this man through.

Setting you upright quickly, Choso crouched down to retrieve your shoe. 

His plan was to simply place it near your foot but he felt your hand land on his shoulder and you raised your dainty foot up expectantly.

Any attempts to avert his gaze proved futile as Choso couldn’t stop his eyes from traveling up the length of your leg. 

Your opaque white stockings practically glowed in the darkness illuminating the shapely calves it covered and thick thighs the tight material cut into. Your hips strained against your garters up until your –he caught himself and his eyes snapped up immediately.

He was a killer, not a perv at least he was trying not to be.

Gingerly making sure to only touch your ankle, you were giggling again as he put your shoe on your foot and placed it on the grass again.

“Thanks Choso! You really are a lifesaver, ya know! I can’t bend down in this skirt.”

“Don’t mention it.” Choso quickly replied, pushing his bangs out of his face in exasperation. 

Really don’t. 

Choso was trying to forget the flash of red lace he saw that barely covered your plump pu– No he had to stop, you were technically his student even if he was just a T.A.

He would surely have to kill you if he popped a boner right now. He was trying to keep a low profile already and did not need to add ‘sexual deviant' to his name from a student harassment claim.

“For real now, go home Y/N.” Choso silently pleaded you would just listen this time. 

He always felt more compulsive right after a kill and didn’t know what he would do if you stayed around him like this much longer.

You finally relented to his relief, nodding and mumbling a sad little goodnight pulling his jacket around your shoulders tighter as you turned to leave back to your pledges. 

Choso started to leave as well but your voice stopped him as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“You know Choso…” You smoothed your skirt down behind you and flashed him a pageant winning smile, “I don’t mind that you saw them.”

Before Choso’s short-circuiting brain could even process what you said you were bouncing off back to your pledges. “Okay ladies, now make like Bey and get in formation! Back to the Soro house!” 

Your pledges erupted with various replies from– 

‘Thank God!’’ 

‘Did you just go over there to steal that nerd’s jacket? Boss!’’

‘Was that your boyfriend, Y/N?’

‘Y/N’s bf is a starter on the football team, she doesn’t want that weird emo dork.’

‘No, sis did you see his muscles– That emo look is still kinda hot right now, huh Y/N?’ 

‘Awe, but I want to go back to the frat!’ 

–all fluttered from the group of chattering girls as you cheerily led them back to the Sorority house. 

You laughed at their comments hoping Choso couldn’t hear them though, as they were a bit embarrassing. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, there was no way for Choso not to hear your rowdy group of drunk giggling girls, he’s sure the whole quad did. 

Choso rolled his eyes as a chill took over him as he started the jog back to his dorms. 

He was glad he had given you his jacket though. The way his body had started to respond to you just now the frigid jog back to the dorms would do him good. 

He just wanted to shower, grade a few papers then go to bed, he didn’t want to end up fisting his cock to you again tonight. 

You had plagued his peace for too long. It wouldn’t do him any good to think of you, it’s not like he could ever have you. 

Sure you went to the same university but you might as well have been from two different worlds. 

You were a popular sorority undergrad with the attention of virtually the entire male population on campus. 

Choso was a PhD student who was used to fading in the background, most avoided him due his looks and academic focus anyway. 

He only had an affiliation with you because his scholarships were tied to being a T.A. for undergrad forensics classes. 

Also you did have a boyfriend. 

An asshole neanderthal football-wide-receiver boyfriend who he would have been tempted to kill already had he not served his own purpose as a reality check and barrier for Choso.

Oh and had an eccentric obsession with blood going for him and was also the Ghostface copycat killer, that too. 

He was sure that would go over well with you, Choso mused sarcastically.

☠

Upon returning to his dorm Choso took a shower, graded papers and tried to fall asleep but inevitably jerked his cock off to you.

Twice. 

The sounds and images of your ditzy little laugh and skippy little panties consumed him as soon as he closed his eyes. The phantom feeling of the way your nipples felt pressed against his chest and how you clung to him desperately had him feeling near insatiable. 

Choso admittedly thinks of killing you often. Just to get some peace of mind.

It wouldn’t be difficult at all to pull off. It’s not like you could put up much of a fight against him.

He didn’t want to break his rule of killing anyone with a connection to him but Choso had also never had anyone stir him the way you did. 

You were a distraction and liability to him. If he killed you he could finally stop thinking about you…right?

You would make a beautiful death painting too.

Choso imagines thick red blood splattered across your curves. 

The fatal gash from the femoral artery in your thigh oozing out a continuous stream of blood. The cut would have to be considerably deep too considering how meaty your thighs were. 

Would the blood streak down your long leg as you desperately tried to hobble away from him in your slutty red heels?

Or would you collapse in fear and surrender to him fully? Landing in such a way that allowed the blood to redirect backwards and soil the flimsy red panties poorly concealing the fat of your cunt as you cried out in fear.

Fuck. 

He was hard again. 

He reached over to his night stand for his lotion bottle– practically empty thanks to his nonstop fantasies of you.

God, he was pathetic.

☠

The school week that followed was relatively uneventful. 

You passed your lab midterms much to Choso’s surprise. Although you always seemed to pass with a relatively decent grade despite how you struggled to get there. Holding firm to your B average in the class and 3.3 GPA in your major overall.

He had to admit you were a better student than he originally gave you credit for. It makes him recall when he first saw you last spring. 

You were a late enroll to Forensic Biology 101. Not only that, you burst into the third class of the semester nearly 15 minutes late.

Oblivious to all the eyes your disruption earned, you leaned on your knees as your chest heaved from exertion giving the entire class an amazing view of your tits spilling from your pink crop top adorned with the prestigious “AKA” sorority. 

You definitely would have given the class an additional show from bending over in your tight green jean skirt had your ass not been facing the door. Choso eyes couldn't help but travel down the length of your legs, your glossy white painted toes peeking out strappy pink pumps. 

You smiled brightly once you caught your breath and apologized for your late entrance but you were newly voted chapter vice president and had just come from your first meeting. 

Surely you had the wrong classroom.

“Er– this class is Forensic Biology 101 young lady.” The older male professor had given you a once over also thinking you must be lost.

“Mhm, yup! I’m Y/N! I just changed my major!” you beamed and handed the professor your schedule.

He looked at it and back at you twice.

“Hm, well so it is…but you are already behind, little lady. Go and take a seat next to the T.A. in the back, Choso Kamo, he will catch you up.”

Just his luck. Choso didn’t want to babysit some sorority bimbo who would probably drop this class in two weeks once the labs started. 

Your university was famous for the forensics program. If you graduated you were all but guaranteed a job at a prominent lab in a major city but more than two thirds of undergrad students dropped it once the rigorous labs began. 

You didn’t look like you would last.

Especially when you told him your interest in forensics came from watching Dexter. You told him how you thought the actor was hott and how his kill rooms were ‘so cool.’ Choso definitely rolled his eyes at that and wrote you off as a soon-to-be drop out.

You proved him wrong though. 

You were a bit of a ditz and a huge clutz but Choso came to understand t's more because you had about a billion different things going on in your head at once rather than you just being dumb or careless. 

You were also a hard worker. 

It was admirable how many activities you were involved in yet still tried as hard as you did in your classes. You always came to his T.A. review sessions and even sought him out at times while he was in the research library to ask him questions. 

You were a good student and he was a horrible T.A. for even thinking of you in this way. 

The campus bell tower struck noon in the distance and Choso looked down to see that he had only read a single paragraph since he sat down to study thirty minutes ago.

Fuck, he had lost himself in thinking about you again. 

Choso put a hand over his face. 

He was sitting alone at a picnic table on the outer, less populated edges of the quad trying to read a textbook but every time he heard a high pitched giggle he snapped his head up thinking it was you.

Class schedules were a bit different due to midterms and he hadn’t seen you the entire week other than to administer the lab but that didn’t mean you didn’t still plague his thoughts more increasingly as of late.

It was making Choso a bit reckless. 

Needing to relieve stress he had created 2 more death paintings. A mistake as it was rumored the local police would soon reach out to bigger towns for more help and perhaps even the FBI would send an agent soon to campus if this kept up. 

He had to move more carefully. 

Maybe make it look like there were multiple Ghostface killers for starters.

“3 Victims, One Week: The Copycat Ghostface Reign of Terror Continues!” 

You read aloud adding a bit of dramatic flair to your voice as you recite the front headline of the campus paper and jar Choso from his thoughts of you. 

Speak of the devil.

You approached Choso at his table and he immediately noticed you were wearing his jacket again, well more like swimming in it as it was clearly too big for you.

This time though you were bundled up in a scarf, leggings and heeled booties. He was glad his face was already a bit red from sitting out in the cold because he couldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from forming that you looked even sexier cozied up and comfortable in his jacket than in the slutty sailor costume.

“I don’t know why you even bother reading that shit Y/N. They never have any interesting details anyway.” Choso tried to feign disinterest in your arrival but his leg was already slightly bouncing under the table, nervous energy returning.

“Well I have to! You wouldn’t go to the crime scene for me last Saturday, remember?”

How could he forget?  

However a part of him did want you to view it though, his masterpieces, his kills. 

See how glorious their blood looked sprayed on the walls, the ground, and the general surroundings of his victims. 

But he knew you’d never appreciate them the way he did even if you were a forensics student.

“Oh and sorry!” 

You interrupted his thoughts once again.

“I meant to give you back your jacket, I’ve been carrying it with me hoping I’d run into you but I ran out today and forgot mine…whoops! I hope you don’t mind me wearing yours a bit longer?”

Your saccharine smile has Choso sucking in a hard breath. 

At this point he would prefer you to just keep it, he couldn’t trust himself if he had it back with your scent all over it knowing you had been carrying it around all week.

He would never know any peace.

“Keep it as long as you need.”

“Kay!”

You smile at him as you haphazardly plop your overstuffed tote bag down next to him, which of course spilled all its colorful contents all over the table. 

“Oh Crap!” 

You lean over to reach for your bag but almost spill the tray of hot coffees in your hand.

“Y/N, Watch out!” 

Choso grabbed the tray before it could spill all over his and your belongings and sat it down on the table with a small exhale.

“Oh! Thank you!” You flash him a big grin. “I got this one for you!” 

You handed him a grande cup with ‘pumpkin spice dirty chai’ scribbled on it.

Choso preferred his coffee black and he has definitely told you that before but you always just brought him whatever sugary drink you ordered saying he needed to ‘try new things’. 

He wasn’t about to turn you down though, caffeine was caffeine and as a PhD student he needed all he could get. Choso also knew it was your way of thanking him for helping you so much in forensics.  

“Thanks...” Choso mumbled taking a sip. Shit this is actually good.

You sat down next to him, a little too close for comfort with your spandex clad thigh brushing up against his leg.

“Whatcha reading? Is it for your thesis?” You were perilously close leaning on him as you looked over his broad shoulder onto his textbook.

“Yeah, some forensics texts I need to review for citations. This section focuses on serology and bloodstain pattern analysis,” Choso stated knowledgably. 

“Oh! Like in Dexter!” 

“Yeah, Y/N, like in Dexter.” 

Maybe Choso is growing a bit soft as he can’t resist but to crack a small smile at your kid-like-enthusiasm for the subject, you were incorrigible. 

Choso also doesn’t miss the way your eyes sparkle when you ask him to tell you more about his research. 

And so he does.

Sometimes Choso forgets how easy you are to talk on the subject. To be frank no one outside his own PHD program ever asks him about his thesis so before he realizes it he’s letting his guard down to indulge you.

You both get so lost in the conversation to the point it hasn’t even phased Choso yet that you are now actually leaning on him. 

Your soft cheek rests near his shoulder and your body angles deeper into his as you point to ask him about a passage on the page which he begins to break down.  

You try to focus on his words but in the midst of Choso’s explanation your eyes stray from the text up to his face. 

You feel your body start to warm.You always thought he was attractive. His dark looks never deterred you if anything they were refreshing from the crew cut preppy jocks around you. Even more so with his piercings in.

Choso never wore any of his piercings during classes or while in the research library. You counted six facial piercings in total from the three on his brows to the septum, labret and finally the black bar piercing through his tongue that darted out exposed with the movements of his mouth. 

Studying him further you discover for the first time his tattoo across the bridge of his nose was actually covering a scar. It looked old but like it had been deep. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had hurt him and why he chose to cover it. 

You didn’t even realize you had reached out to touch it until you felt his gaze snap to you. 

Stunned and a bit embarrassed, you withdraw your hand.

“Ah, sorry I just noticed your tattoo was covering a scar…” you trailed off hoping he wouldn’t be annoyed with you.

Annoyance was the last thing on Choso’s mind as finally registered how you had melded yourself into his side body. 

Although his usual reaction would be to withdraw back, you might as well have him chained down to the table now as he was practically immobilized by you not even being able to look away. 

“Uh, yeah it happened years ago when I was a kid...I fell off the monkey bars, there was a lot of blood.” 

No one had even recognized it since Choso had it covered years ago. You were the first.

“Oh no! I loved the monkey bars, we used to climb up on them all the time when I was little. I guess those things are kinda dangerous huh? Actually, I’m kinda shocked I never fell, a miracle right?” 

You laughed and Choso found himself smiling at you again. 

You were too accident prone so it really was a miracle. 

“Yeah, good thing you never fell Y/N… It would be a shame to have to get a big ugly tattoo on that cute face.” 

Choso swore on his life those last words only were said in his head but from the way your eyes widened he knew he fucked up.

“I- that is.. I meant-”

Choso smacked a hand over his face. He can’t believe he just said that out loud to you. He was really losing it. 

“So you think I’m cute?” you teased giggling. You angled your head so you could look up at him from underneath his hand.

“Yeah, about as cute as the blood splatter diagram on this page.” he teased you back. A small smirk on his features as he peeked at you through his fingers.

“Hey!” 

Choso chuckled. Little did you know he actually paid you a huge compliment comparing you to something he thought so alluring as blood.

You grab the hand covering his face as your smile widens and you playfully struggle with Choso. 

You don’t become aware of your close proximity until you almost bump noses.

Choso locks eyes with you and you feel your tummy tighten as you bite your lip. 

You’re still holding his hand and after a while you work up the courage as your other hand comes up to touch his face. 

“Your tattoo isn’t ugly Choso,” you breathe out softly.

Choso closes his eyes as you trace the scar beneath his tattoo. 

You weren’t sure what you were doing but your hand involuntarily begins to travel across his face and his piercings until they graze over his lips and he opens his eyes again.  

Startled by the sudden hungry look in his eyes you pull back your hand but he captures it in his own, him being the one to trap you this time.

If either one of you just moved even an inch forward your lips would touch. You see Choso’s lips part when–

“Yo! Hands off my girl, freakshow!” 

“Dean!?” You pulled back out of Choso’s embrace, floored to see your boyfriend and some more of his football buddies heading towards you as you knew they still should have been at practice around this time.

“Oooh he’s in for it now messin’ with Dean’s girl.” Dean’s football friends snickered.

Choso audibly breathes out in exasperation. The moment was ruined and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with your neanderthal boyfriend and his football lackeys who all shared a singular brain cell. 

Didn’t they have a ball or something to chase?

“Uh hey, Dean I..” 

You stop yourself when it’s clear Dean is ignoring you entirely as he approaches the table. Not even looking your way to greet you. 

His aura oozes faux tough guy bully and walks straight up to Choso to size him up leaning on the table to tower over him.

“I’m talking to you, freak. You think you can put your hands on what belongs to me?”

Choso doesn’t look up at him but his grip instinctively tightens on the pen in his hand under the table as if it was Ghostface’s hunting knife. 

Dean’s show of bravado going ignored by Choso pisses him off even more that his teammates are with him and the tough guy act is failing to have any real effect. 

Tch. 

With a swift movement Dean knocks Choso’s coffee over on the table, its half drunken contents falling on both you, Choso and his books. 

This has Choso rising out of his seat as he thinks your boyfriend must have an unknown death wish.

Choso’s pen is still in his grasp but by his side now. It would be too easy to drive it into Dean’s neck before the dolt even knew what hit him. A bit extreme, but it could be considered an unfortunate accident of self defense if Dean struck first.

Fortunately, you stepped in between the two in order to diffuse the situation without picking up on Choso’s murderous intent. 

You chewed your lip. This was low key, your fault. You technically were dating Dean. Although Dean was always the furthest thing from your mind when you were around Choso. 

You didn’t even feel guilty for being caught as you’ve had your own suspicions for a while Dean had been cheating on you anyway, you just couldn’t prove it. You were still dating him more out of convenience than anything else, other jocks and frat boys left you alone knowing you were with him.

The only guilt you actually did feel was for Choso. This wasn’t his problem or relationship but of course Dean was a big enough asshole to make this into an actual issue with Choso since it was becoming clearer how little respect he had for you.

“Dean, what the hell is your problem!? You got coffee everywhere, this isn’t even my jacket.” 

“Don’t what the hell me Y/N, you're so fucking dumb you’re going to let this freak get in your pants when– wait you’re wearing fucking his jacket!?” 

Dean was yelling now and a small crowd was forming and starting to take out their phones to record. 

You could not let this turn into an incident.

“Dean chill the entire fuck out, would you?! It was cold, so he let me borrow it– He’s just my T.A.”

A wave of harsh realization washed over Choso. 

Just her T.A.

Right.

Choso is no one important to you, especially with your football boyfriend and social standing on the line.

He’d let whatever the fuck almost happened between the two you just now make him forget that. 

Not anymore.

“That’s right. I’m just her T.A. So if you’ll excuse me.” 

Choso turned from you both to salvage what he could of his books and leave.

You couldn’t place the emotions in Choso’s words and it made your chest tighten up. But you weren’t trying to write him or your almost-kiss off. 

You didn’t mean for it to come out that way but you really lacked the proper words in these kinds of situations.

“Where do you think you’re going, loser?”

Dean grabbed Choso’s shoulder but the intense murderous look in his eyes made Dean release him just as quickly as if he had been burned. 

Even his football goon friends unconsciously took a few steps back feeling the very real threat in Choso’s eyes. 

Choso smirked as he left. Thought so. 

“W-wait Cho–”  

You want to stop him but feel Dean’s rough grip on your wrists.

“Whatever, let’s fucking go Y/N. We have an important party to throw later.” 

Dean grabs your wrist and jerks you away with you barely being able to grab your bag. 

Your stomach twists and you are at a complete loss for words but manage to flash an apologetic look at Choso while you are dragged off. 

However when your eyes meet he looks right through you.

The expression on his face is stone cold and it sends a chill up your spine.

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ

A/N: I promise it won't take as long for the second part to come out. I'm half way done with it already! I was just going to wait and post it all together but a like 12k+ word post all at once would be insane lmfao. After I am finished with this prompt the next 3 stories I will do will be from Thrilling Ghouls as they are all much shorter PWPs in the 3-5k range and I won't have to stress so much since I'm realizing all my Smooth Criminal prompts are longer fics and it takes me like a week or more to write them.

ღTaglistღ: @callm3senpaii @arxliana @jujutsualy @luxiethefairy @akaza-simp01 @fredswh0re @missphanosaur18 @moon-esque @samicamy-13

comment on m.list to be tagged in future Kinktober '23 stories

please stop to take a look at this wonderful art of the last scene that @laikatsuki created, tysm again pookie bears!!!

Reblog for Ghostface!Choso to come steal your panties although comments and likes are appreciated all the same!

PART 2

[remxedmoon]

“shadowy figures appeared before you. apparitions, memories of what once was. reminders of who you’re fighting for. are they your true family, or merely wearing their visage?”

[twohats spoilers below the cut!]

DEATHCARDS!!! WOOO!! that leshy quote isn’t entirely set in stone yet, btw. i made these for a king boss fight i’m working on so realistically he’d be the one narrating? but eh. it’s fun to write in leshy’s voice. anyways, hopefully this won’t be too long?? i’ve got way less design notes this time around, but there’s also 6 cards here and i’m not very succinct. sorry in advance!!

siffrin

2 power - 2 health - 5 bones

loose tail - when a card bearing this sigil would be struck, a tail is created in its place and a card bearing this sigil moves to the right. a tail is defined as: 0 power, 2 health.

steel trap - when a card bearing this sigil perishes, the creature opposing it perishes as well. a pelt is created in your hand.

GOD it was hard to come up with sigils for this one. since these are boss exclusive cards, i had a pretty limited pool to work with… hopefully this is still fitting

loose tail is the closest i could get to a sigil that avoids death, since sigils like unkillable and many lives were off the table. plus, there’s kinda a connection with him not valuing his own life?? and sacrificing a part of himself? i think it works

steel trap!! this sigil is exclusive to the trapper boss fight! since summoned cards (like chimes and tails) inherit sigils, their tail card will also kill whatever’s in front of it when it’s destroyed! sort of a “taking you down with me” situation.

mirabelle

2 power - 5 health - 3 blood

swapper - after a card bearing this sigil is dealt damage, swap its power and health.

swapper!! this is an act 3 sigil exclusive to swapbot! ahhhhhhhh i had such a hard time trying to figure out another card design for her. i REALLY liked the bellist sigil for her and didn’t really have any other ideas. swapper felt like it fit with the change belief to me! and it also makes her a pretty terrifying card to go up against. since this is a boss card, that cost is basically entirely for show lol

ALT CARD ART!!! YIPEE!! literally all i did was flip her eyes to look angry lol. swapbot’s sprite changes when it swaps so i think hers would too!

isabeau

2 power - 4 health - 2 blood

dam builder - when a card bearing this sigil is played, a dam is created on each empty adjacent space. a dam is defined as: 0 power, 2 health.

fledgling - a card bearing this sigil will grow into a more powerful form after 1 turn on the board.

dam builder feels like a very defensive sigil to me, and it synergizes well with fledgling!! after a turn, isabeau will be doing 5 damage across 3 lanes! good god.

odile

1 power - 2 health - 2 blood

trifurcated strike - a card bearing this sigil will strike each opposing space to the left and right of the spaces across from it as well as the space in front of it.

sharp quills - once a card bearing this sigil is struck, the striker is then dealt a single damage point.

this was the HARDEST card to think up, and probably the weakest out of the bunch imo. i think i really nailed her regular card and i just. couldn’t come up with anything. agonies

i picked trifurcated strike as a reference to her being able to use all three craft types, and sharp quills… i think because of her aversion to touch? i think. it’s been a while since i made these aaaaa

bonnie

1 power - 1 health - 1 blood

waterborne - a card bearing this sigil submerges itself during its opponent's turn. while submerged, opposing creatures attack its owner directly.

leader - creatures adjacent to a card bearing this sigil gain 1 power.

if yall remember the notes on my kid card, this is based on the beta version of that card!! which means that for once i’m not putting bonnie through the torments. hooray!

waterborne is there because they always stay out of danger during battles! plus they’re from a coastal town so it fits on that front as well. i didn’t really think about the actual sigil names for cards this time around but hey! it’s a nice bonus!

the beta card had trinket bearer, but that’s a sigil that would only benefit the player in battle, so i swapped it out with leader! since they can’t be directly attacked, this basically makes them a permanent alpha on the king’s side of the field. also, leader, snack leader, it fits namewise as well!

loop

2 power - 1 health - 4 bones

haunter - when a creature bearing this sigil dies, it haunts the space it died in. creatures played in this space gain its old sigils.

bifurcated strike - A card bearing this sigil will strike each opposing space to the left and right of the space across from it.

“i’m normal about inscryption” i say as i give one of my cards a sigil that only appears in the completely missable rulebook of grimmora’s segment of the finale.

so. haunter! the aforementioned grimmora sigil! this appears on no cards ingame, but cmon. it fits. this sigil reminded me of how loop reacts when you guess that they’re a ghost! in battle, i imagine that siffrin will always get played right behind loop. because twohats

bifurcated strike was added here for the same reason it’s on their normal card! it feels like scissors craft!! i needed them to actually have A Sigil to transfer to siffrin and this felt the most fitting to me.

also, just like the normal cards, siffrin and loop are both the only ones to have a bone cost instead of blood cost! teehee :333

and i think that’s it! i’m not making inhabited versions of these cards because they aren’t meant to be accessible outside of the king fight! also! hi! i drafted this post and wrote siffrin’s segment: almost a month ago! oops!! i kept putting this off… at least it’s actually written out now lol. hope you guys enjoy!!!