#a look of pure utter disgust in a way that's so final

[misstycloud]

Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend, he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother, he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents, he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him, unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Wel, I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d ever connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid, not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d showed you the devotion and love you thought you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered pathetically, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

-

[hiraethwrote]

NEVER GOT YOUR NAME

✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader ✧ summary: based of this drabble — you're ex is borderline harassing you. he just will not leave you alone, and in a desperate attempt to get him off your back, you tell a little white lie. in panic, you grab the first stranger to walk by and introduce him as your date ✧ cw: fluff, light profanity, one little comment about previous sexual relationship, arguing, word vomit ngl (i'm describing too much sorry) pining, reader is smaller than satoru, mild use of petnames, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 3.5k

He was a menace. A true and genuine menace, who seemed to have some sort of natural ability in finding you, no matter where you were.

Maybe getting a restraining order was the next step — there was no way he managed to just randomly run into at the rate that he was, whether that was in the grocery store, the gas station or just on the street. No, he had to be stalking you, right? The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give this guy, your god awful ex, the privilege of fulfilling his desires of bumping into you.

Yet, here you stood in front of him again.

His eyebrows pinched together, an innocent little smirk tilting his mouth crooked, feeding you the same lines he always did.

“Great seeing you again,” like you hadn’t ran into him not even three days ago. “You look fantastic, as always. How’ve you been, sweets?” Urgh, one of the many nicknames he had named you — your stomach turning at the sound of it. You were scared you might actually hurl.

“Stop calling me that,” you demanded, keeping your voice low. He always managed to bring your anger right to the surface, to which you had to use all your energy not to blow up in his face. It had already happened once, about two months after you broke up with him. You had raised your voice at him and lashed out, causing some random bystander to interfere — who had then proceed to take his side. Unbelievable, as if he wasn’t the one who had taken you for granted for the entirety of your relationship.

“Sorry, old habits die hard, you know.” So full of shit. You’d been broken up for months, there shouldn’t have been any problem dropping the pet names. He only did it as a tactic to try and manipulate you into his arms again. And to think you willingly used to sleep with this guy. “Since we’re both here, why don’t we grab lunch together?”

“Oh, please,” you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“It’ll be good for us, sweets-“ don’t punch him, don’t punch him, don’t punch him. “Maybe we can talk some things-“

“I’m actually here on a date!”

Finally he shut up, only for his face to twist into an expression of pure disgust. It was clear the idea had never even crossed his mind — and you would have been able to enjoy his agony had it not been for the fact that it was a complete and utter lie, thrown out in a moment of desperation.

What were you to do when your ex decided to wait around for your date to arrive, and he never showed? You could already picture his face — the patronising pity he would pay you, while you’d be able to read his satisfaction behind his eyes, as he would use it against you for months to come.

You had only bought yourself some time and you needed to think fast.

“Who? I mean, do I know them? Have you met them before?” He stuttered out questions of bewilderment as your limbs were growing ever more frantic at your side.

And then the bell above the entrance of the cafe chimed a sweet tune, eyes snapping towards the sound. “Ah, there he is!” Your arms acted on their own accord, hands grabbing onto the bicep of the person who had been so unfortunate to walk in right as you were spiralling.

Swallowing the worst of your anxiety, you dared turn your head towards the random person, hoping to god he wasn’t ugly (because that would just be yet another thing your ex would badger you about).

Due to his height, you had to angle your head more than expected to meet his piercing eyes that were ogling you with complete confusion — but you only had time to take in his appearance for a slit second before you shot him a pleading look, betting everything on the off chance that he would be able to read the situation — but also finding it in himself to play along to your little performance.

Your fingers squeezed lightly at his arm, bringing him back to reality. Then it only took him a second to make up his mind, the white haired stranger wiping off his confusion and confidently throwing his muscular arm across your shoulders. Once he turned to face your ex, he had painted his features with the smuggest grin one could imagine, revealing a charming dimple.

He tilted forward slightly, which only brought more attention to how much taller he was than your ex, and shot his hand out between them. “Satoru, pleasure to meet you.” His tone matched his expression, not a single speckle of insecurity to pick up on anywhere. Your ex stared at his hand with disdain before begrudgingly accepting the gesture and introducing himself in return. “Hm, don’t think she’s mentioned you.”

Your lips parted in surprise, not expecting this Satoru to take his role so seriously — and then put on an award winning show right off the bat, nonetheless. Was it finally your turn to be blessed by the universe with some good karma in the shape of the most perfect stranger to deal with the situation?

Turning to take a quick glance at your ex, you had to press your lips together to choke back the cackle that threatened to escape. His expression was priceless, Satoru’s innocent little comment rolling of his tongue so effortlessly, causing a slight twitch in your ex’s eye.

“Well, I’m her-“ then he cleared his throat, struggling to finish his sentence. You weren’t surprised his title died in his throat, having never really accepted the fact that the relationship with over.

“He’s my ex,” you said, finding some courage to casually place your hand on Satoru’s chest, hoping and begging you weren’t making him uncomfortable by crossing a line.

“Aaah, your ex,” this Satoru trialed off with an awkward raise of the eyebrows before he turned to look at you again. That’s when you finally got to take a proper look at his breathtaking eyes, the whole ocean trapped in his irises. But you couldn’t let yourself fall completely mesmerised — you shook off the affect his piercing eyes seemed to have. “Sorry I’m running a little late. I stopped by the bookstore down the street to see if they had that book you recommended on our first date.” Then he served you what seemed like a genuine smile.

Stop, not the time to admire the handsome stranger!

You bashfully tilted your head forward while the sweetest chuckle traveled past your lips, also having to sell the performance. “How sweet of you to remember.”

“Of course!” He smoothly removed his arm from your shoulder to slide it along your back, moving it in comforting circles — but he never let it travel too far.

Your ex had his glare glued to Satoru’s gesture, unable to look away no matter how badly he wanted to.

“Never got around to that one,” your ex said with an awkward, forced laugh in an attempt to shift the attention back to him. He probably thought he was being charming (he always thought he was), but his little comment only gave you another reminder to why you had broken up with him — he never cared about your interests, as he couldn’t be bothered to pick up your favourite book, no matter how many times you had asked him if he could at least give it a try.

“Huh, how unfortunate.” Again, your ex couldn’t conceal the little reaction Satoru caused in his face by his incredibly taunting tone.

He cleared his throat again, and you could see how he was grasping at straws trying to redeem himself. “So, what do you have planned?” It wasn’t too obvious, but you could tell — you could tell he asked as a challenge, certain your “date” wouldn’t be able to suffice an answer that would leave him satisfied.

You opened your mouth to answer, but only managed to take a breath before Satoru had already started his lengthy explanation. “Well, first I’m taking her out for lunch, obviously,” he mused, taking a quick glance around your surroundings. “And I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I got us entrance tickets for the botanical garden uptown. She told me she’s been wanting to go for months.” Then he turned to look at you.

He said it with such a genuine smile painting the corner of his lips, both of you letting the eye contact linger for a second. For once you were thankful for your ex, because if it wasn’t for him drawing Satoru’s alluring eyes away, you were scared you might just have found yourself swooning a little.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” your ex chuckled in response with a nonchalant eye roll, “she might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Hm,” Satoru huffed, sucking in his cheeks and eyeing him up and down

Pathetic was really the only word that Satoru would use to best describe the individual in front of him. He just seemed so puny, reeking of insecurity, only amplified by how he had so easily went along with the lie of a botanical garden — something Satoru had just pulled from the top of his head.

A huge, nervous lump traveled down his throat as Satoru held his gaze hostage, his dominant behaviour easily smothering any sprinkle of confidence your ex might have possessed at one point — all by just being there. And it was just so satisfying that it was finally your turn to watch your no-good ex being the one who was tormented for once.

“Well-“ his voice cracked the slightest, Satoru pursing his lips in amusement at the little slip, “I have to get going now. I’ll see you around,” stumbling over his words as his face shyly grew redder. Then he just turned on his heel and left, leaving no time for you to even say goodbye.

Satoru instantly felt your body relax at his side with a deep exhale, the hand that had shyly rested on his chest with modesty falling the second the door was shut — and once you took a step in front of him, he became hyper aware of how close to him you had been the entire time. With the sudden absence of your body next to his, he realised how perfectly you had just seemed to fit next to him. Nearly as if you had been made simply to be by his side.

And stood in front of him, he finally got the chance to take a look at you. A proper look at you, and damn, you were beautiful. Your eyes were kind, which amazed him considering the unpleasant encounter that had just taken place.

The chuckle you’d faked along with his act was still resting on your lips, but now it definitely seemed more real — warm.

“Thank you so much!” You gushed, “I am so sorry I just dragged you into that! I was panicking.”

Satoru watched intently as you spoke, unable to peer his eyes off you. His attention held on to every syllable, entirely captivated by your person, eyes roaming your face to take in every little detail there was to observe.

“Shit,” you suddenly interrupted yourself, taking a glance at your watch.

“I never caught-“

“I really wish I could stay and treat you for lunch, as thanks,” you cut him off, seemingly not even acknowledging how he had tried to speak, rummaging through your bag frantically before pulling out your wallet, “but because of him I’m running late. So, here, take this,” you chuckled lightly while stuffing his hands full of cash. “I really appreciate what you did!” Satoru was barely able to decode what you were saying as it all came tumbling out in one breath.

Continuing to spew a string of thank you’s, you quickly backed out of the cafe, his eyes following you as you jogged lightly down the street and out of sight.

Satoru was left utterly baffled, simply ogling the vacated spot you had occupied seconds ago.

Of all the times Satoru would end up tongue tied, this was the worst possible moment — he was cursing himself relentlessly for not being quick enough to demand a name, and now you were just gone, some random person he’d been lucky enough to cross paths with for a moment.

He knew he should just get on with his day — use the money you had gifted him and buy himself that sweet treat he wanted and forget about you. But he couldn’t — he wouldn't.

Had you just decided to walk into a random cafe you had just so happened to walk past that particular day?

Satoru certainly thought so. Because when he couldn’t rid you from his mind, he had gone back to that very same cafe, childlike optimism filling his body while he lingered the area, waiting for your figure to show.

It never did.

His patience quickly ran out, growing more restless every day that passed where he didn’t see you stroll down the street to return to the cafe to grab the lunch you never got to have.

He couldn’t let it rest in the hands of the universe any longer. After days of casually stalking the area, he decided to strut through the entrance of the building to simply ask.

“And how can I help you today, sir?” The sweet girl behind the counter mused, the perfect customer service smile greeting him as he leaned his entire weight in the edge of the counter.

“Hi there, remember me?”

He saw her shoulders rise slightly as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” yet another polite smile.

“I was in here about three weeks ago. Was with this really pretty girl-“

“Sir,” she gently interrupted him, still the same smile on her face, “we see hundred of faces every day. We have no way of remembering them all.”

His head fell back dramatically, huffing in disappointment as his fingers flexed against the marble top. “Thanks, anyway,” he mumbled quietly, shuffling over to a secluded table in the corner, sulking in his lonesome while his eyes were locked on the door, still filled with a light glimmer of hope that you would show.

It became routine — sitting in the same corner in the back, ordering the same thing while he waited for three hours everyday before he eventually had to leave, with a heavy heart, to attend to his duties.

And if the nice barista didn’t recognise him before, she definitely did now, walking over to his table and serving him his plate with a sympathetic smile. “No show today either?” The most theatrical sigh would leave his lips every time she asked the question, sad puppy dog eyes on display as he shook his head. “Sorry, buddy.”

“It’s getting a little sad, don’t you think?” Her coworker would comment once she rejoined her behind the counter, both of them keeping an eye on him with pinched eyebrows.

“I don’t know,” she breathed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s a little romantic.”

Then they would share a look, some judgement passing between their eyes before they burst into innocent laughter, wondering how long they would get to witness his yearning before he eventually gave up his dreams of finding you again.

For days, Satoru’s head would snap towards the door every time the tiny bell rang, witnessing all sorts of people come to enjoy a little treat but not a single one of them fit your description.

Maybe this was just too hopeless? Tokyo was the most populated city in the world — bumping into the same person twice was like finding a needle in a high stack. Scratch that, it was like finding a rice grain in the great Sahara desert. But he kept praying, hoping the universe would bless him with his desire.

It was a perfectly okay day.

The temperature was nice — higher than expected for a mid-fall day — but the weather wasn’t much to brag about. For the past week it had been raining. Not pouring, but a light, constant drizzle that tapped quietly against the cafe window as Satoru stared mindlessly out at the scenery of concrete buildings and trees changing colour.

There was only a single string of hope that kept him sitting in that chair day after day, but it was destined to break soon. His head didn’t even turn towards the door anymore when that little bell rang with the familiar chime. He simply rested his chin in the palm of his hand, giving all the responsibility back to the universe.

The familiar barista came to his table, picking up the plate littered with only crumps and not one, but two, empty coffee mugs (that had been more sugar than coffee).

“Same time tomorrow?” She asked sweetly, wiping the table clean while balancing the dishes in her other hand.

He instantly wiped away his disappointment, plastering on the most convincing smile he could muster as he turned to face her. “I don’t think so.” She stared wide eyed at him, mouth parted into a shy ‘o’, a little disappointed to see him finally give up, having started to root for him a long time ago. “You’ve had exceptional service,” he beamed from ear to ear as he got up from his chair, her eyes never leaving him as he stood to tower over her.

He gave her one last tight lipped smile as he passed her. “Goodbye,” she stuttered quietly, keeping her pitying gaze on him as he headed for the exit.

The bell rang one last time, and Satoru was a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hear the obnoxiously high-pitching ding again — his relief short lasted as he crashed into a figure smaller than himself the second he was about to exit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching- well, if it isn’t my knight in shining armour!”

What were the chances?

After all those days — waiting, staring, stuffing his face with sweets — and to think he was just about to give up. Maybe the universe had finally decided to take pity on him, wanting to reward his patience.

You looked as breathtaking as the day you had desperately latched onto his arm — maybe even better. You seemed lighter almost, as if someone had lifted off pounds from your shoulders. Same kind eyes, but a sense of peace glossing over them instead of frustration.

“It’s you,” it fell from his lips involuntary.

“In the flesh,” you chuckled. The sweet, vibrating sound faded into a clear of the throat when Satoru only continued to ogle you without a word. “Oh, sorry, you were leaving-“ you stuttered, stepping aside to let him pass. You were left confused when he didn’t walk past you, but rather kept his glare on you.

“I never got your name.”

“Sorry?” You asked, his voice too quiet to pick up on.

The same smug grin you’d seen on his face so many weeks ago greeted you, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “I never got your name,” more assertive now that he had increased his volume.

“Oh,” you said shyly, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. Eyeing his attractive smile, you let your name roll off your tongue before mirroring his expression of happiness.

If it was even possible, his smile stretched even further across his face, the dimples you’d noticed last time appearing on each side of his face. “Nice to finally meet you. Properly this time.”

His natural charm just steamed off him in abundance, something you had only appreciated in glimpses in your stressed haze. “You too,” you smiled.

“I haven’t seen you here since that day.”

“Well, that’s because I haven’t been here since then,” you chucked nervously, glancing towards the register when you felt some interrogating eyes on you — both of the girls behind the counter wringing their heads away from you and Satoru. “My ex has had a tendency to linger in areas we ‘bump’ into each other,” you raise your fingers to gesture the quotation marks, “but I actually think meeting you might have scared him off for good. Haven’t seen him since, so thank you again.”

“Truly my pleasure,” he straightened his posture, his height growing even more impressive. He spoke your name, and despite not really knowing you, he said it with a tenderness your ex always lacked. “I was wondering,” he took a step closer, his eyes flittering between yours, “I owe you a trip to a botanical garden, don’t you think?”

Your breath instantly hitched in your throat, heat spreading modestly across your face.

Of course the handsome stranger who had come to your rescue in a moment of genuine despair had crossed your mind from time to time since then — you had just come to terms with the fact you would never be as lucky to cross paths with the polite stranger again. And the part of you that had been plagued with embarrassment was okay with that.

But the excitement in his eyes as he waited for you to answer slowly erased the uncomfortable feeling.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

tags (taglist form) @sad-darksoul ﾉ @05-simply-06-simping ﾉ @geniejunn ﾉ @alixris ﾉ @shadava

@gdamnackerman ﾉ @sunfl0werlevi ﾉ @gojonegs ﾉ @m0nsterzl0ve

@cupidxml ﾉ @lashaemorow ﾉ @cirquedelooney ﾉ @itsinherited

@elenor222 ﾉ @mima0127 ﾉ @lem-hhn ﾉ @mechanicalmari

a/n it's finally here and i think i'm happy with it... not entirely sure. think i've seen myself blind on this fic. however, thank you so much for the reception on the little drabble that took me literally ten minutes to write, hope this lives up to your expectations <3 likes, comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[bimbosandbubbles]

All Consuming

Starring Yandere Siren Gojo and Geto

Synopsis- Two months ago you became a sole survivor to a supposed animal attack on a lake trip and because of that you’ve become alienated from everyone else in your much too rural community. However,you’re finally not so alone when two mysterious men are way too interested in you…But something’s a little off about them..

Fic for my Summertime Slashers event!

Warnings-mates,Geto and Gojo kinda have a feeding kink in this(they like seeing you eat bcs they only eat human flesh and obviously you don’t 😭), stalking,cum marking(you’ll find out), voyeurism,mirror kink,mutual masturbation,biting,oviposition,icky flirting(they’re very confused on the fact that humans don’t just mate like sirens do), dubcon,borderline noncon,multiple sex scenes,leg worshipping?,manipulation(you’re very vulnerable in this and they take advantage of that),abuse of super natural power(not clearly stated but implied),panty sniffing,lots of breeding kink,and ofc and always CHUBBY READER!

An explanation on sirens and how I tweaked them from traditional folklore! Just so you can have more understanding on why things happen in this fic! So Sirens typically are beings that lure men in with their beautiful voice and then capture them with their magical touch! This is kinda like that but not really! Geto and Gojo are male sirens so they usually target the opposite sex! Their siren voice isn’t necessarily singing it’s just something they can activate in this fic! Also they can go on and off land if they’re well fed! In this fic I imply heavily that sirens take mates like many other sea life!

WC-6.9K/6,925

"Can you give a description of him?"

"Them." Is all you can answer. Seething hot acid pulls at the back of your throat,begging to come out on the steel table. Your quaking hands grip the very edge of the table for some kind of support—a sense of grounding in this situation.

"Right,them. My apologies. The descriptions though,(Reader)?" You gulp,"Well one was taller than the other had these piercing blue eyes,almost like light itself. The other had these soulless black ones...emotionless and empty kinda."

In front of you there's this quiet man presumingly sketching away the description. "Anything else?" You bite your lip and glance down at your scarred fingers but you quickly look away because the memory of just why those injuries remain are there is much too fresh. "I don't know...everything was a blur. I can't remember a thing other than seeing them..."You swallow a thick wad of spit before you utter another word,"tear into my friends."

The officer in front of you stares into your glassy eyes that you bet are red and bulging to the point it looks like you've been choked instead of crying. He sighs,"Look,(Reader) you seem to be a nice enough girl but these details are just not enough to drive this case. This is the third time we've invited you down to the station and you've said nothing to make us believe two men did this to your friends."

"Please! I saw them! I really,really did! I swear! I wouldn't lie about seeing those—those monsters!" The officer sighs and ounces the bridge of his nose,"Let's be real,when the attacked happened you were intoxicated,right? You were out having fun with your girlfriends and probably doing other substances. Or maybe the shock of seeing your friends mauled by an animal got to you. Whatever the case may be I know it's not two human men who ate your friends in front of you."

You clench your fists in pure disgust at the audacity this person has in front of you. He's not the one who had to see it,he's not the one who had to watch your friends cry and beg for help and couldn't do anything about it, and he's certainly not the one who had to live through their constant cries of pain. You finally raise your voice an octave,"I know what I saw and I won't suffer through some accusations pushed onto me because this story isn't believable enough for you!"

The officer doesn't take lightly to your shouting and doesn't remain so calm with his doubt. "I'm tired of listening to your bullshit anyways! There is no man eating monster with glowing blue eyes! And there definitely isn't another soulless black eyed creep!" He takes a deep breath and stands from the metal chair. You sit there in silence fighting back tears and you have no clue why the liquid is fleeing your eye ducts.

It's probably anger or sadness,or both whatever the reason might be you curl up into yourself and sob in front of the two cops. "(Reader), I apologize...but I can't take this case serious. I know you're hurting,losing your friends in an animal caused massacre but you're wasting resources and precious time for cases that actually need to be solved. So just go home and get some therapy,yeah?"

Through teary eyes you gaze at the officer in his harsh eyes and you're left wondering why does no one believe you? It's been two months since the attack and you're doing all the right things;therapy,self groups,going back to normal life,yet you're treated like some crazy person. You've never been the type to lie. Never been the type to abuse someone's trust,so why?

Why are you so unbelievable? Are your tears not mournful enough? Is your slowly deteriorating appearance not evidence enough? Is the scars on your body just too artificial looking for people not to believe the truth?

With your head hung low you whisper,"Sorry officer,I'll go home."

▂▂▂▂

"Oh my god is that her?" The whisper flows through the dining hall. Another answers,"I think she's totally crazy."  Then another,"Oh be nice,her friends got mauled by some kind of wolf in front of her." "I heard it was a bear actually."

You chew on your mediocre sandwich trying to ignore the constant voices mumbling about you. It's the first week you've been back at uni since the attack and it's not going so well for you. People only pity you or look down at you for not just dying with your friends. Some people think that you're even responsible for their deaths. But it won't be much longer until you're free of the university gossip due to the fact that summer break is nearly two weeks away. And even with that time frame people are already leaving the dorms entirely.

And what makes it so unfortunate is that no one's in your corner anymore. Your parents have turned their backs on you because it's like a sin to have a child struggling with their mental health in this godforsaken small town. And your friends well...gone because of that very event. And you can't even dream about making any new ones because now you're looked at like some disease instead of a victim of a horrifying crime.

But it's okay,that's what you tell yourself. And that's the mantra that keeps flowing through your brain as you take bite after bite into your too cold food. You people watch from the wooden eating area—turning green with envy as you glance from after people enjoying each other's company.

That was once you, eating and laughing among your beloved closest companions. You don't wish to be bitter for others happiness but it's hard not to when you're actively being shunned by your whole town basically.

You glance down at your depressing looking tray of food and decide it doesn't even look edible to you anymore. You debate whether or not you should throw it away or just eat it. Simply because you haven't been eating much since the incident. You nimble on your lip and decide you shouldn't force yourself to eat food you don't even like.

You arise from your seat and wish you didn't because now all eyes are on you as if they weren't before. You sigh and walk all the way to trash trying to power through all the chatter and seething stares. They all look at you like some parasite slowly infecting them with your presence alone. 

Sure,you've been stared at before being that you're a bigger girl in a hick town but this is something different. Something crueler...and more hurtful. It's so hurtful that you're just probably going to skip all your lectures and run away into the comfort of your home.

However your mind sets that aside once you see two strangers sitting at your once empty table. Your brows raises as you walk confusedly back to the table to retrieve your book bag.

Once you come closer you're shocked to be met with eyes black as the night...eyes that are so eerily familiar. "Oh I'm sorry we didn't know anyone was sitting here!" His voice is calm and gentle,gentle to the point that you'd melt into the his arms right now because the longing for comfort roughly tugs at you. Pathetic,anyone would agree to that,however you're just so entirely vulnerable for any type of interaction and touch at the moment. Then you take a look at his face and you're shocked to see how handsome he is.

His long raven locks go past his broad shoulders that is covered with a loose breathable crew neck. Not only are his eyes pretty in color but the shape as well;his kind monolids gazing at you right now practically has you flustered. "It's alright..I was leaving anyhow." You mumble with a nervous smile. 

"Nooo! Stay! This table has so much room!" A chipper,more energetic voice adds in. Your attention is turned to the voice and this time you're even more shocked at how good looking this man is too. He has snow white hair that frames his pretty face along with eyes so blue they're almost hypnotizing. But again something in your belly finds those eyes too familiar almost like you've met the men before.

"Oh no you wouldn't wanna sit with me...people will start talking about you too." The black haired man smiles,"Let them talk," he extends his long arm on the back of the seat next to Gojo,"sit." Gojo moves from that seat to make sure you're the one in the middle of the two men. You shyly nod,"Thank you."

You sit down and feel a sudden presence of something....something intense between the three of you despite just making their acquaintance. "My name is Suguru Geto,"he points to the other man beside you,"This is Satoru Gojo." He smiles and waves,"What's your name cutie?" The white haired man peers at you as he awaits the answer to his question. "(Reader Full Name),nice to meet you guys." 

The both say it's nice to meet you also and you guys chatter about each others day,major etc. "Have you eaten yet?" Suguru asks. "Umm kinda,the food I got wasn't very good so I just threw it away."  Gojo say,"Oh no,eat with us! Me and Guru always eat good food so you'll like it for sure."

"No no it's okay! I wouldn't wanna have you guys pay for anything from the food bar." You used the word pay because all the good food you have to pay for instead of meal swipes. And because you're suddenly shunned from this town you're naturally unable to keep a job anymore,therefore making you broker than a joke. "I'll pay." Gojo says.

"It's o—" Gojo interrupts,his big hand managing to fully wrap around your plump upper arm,"I'll pay." He affirms. You just nod silently and watch as he walks up to the food bar to buy the items. Geto looks at you and smile,"So what's a pretty girl like you sitting all by herself for?"

You look down and feel your tummy doing backflips for two reasons;the compliment and the question. You're nervous to explain just why you're being ignored and you're nervous you'll mess up the chance of making new friends. However,you go for being honest and not lying,just to see if they'll actually be someone you'll want to have as companions.

"Well two months ago an incident happened at the lake with my friends. They were attacked by two monsters and I was the only one to make it out alive. But the weird thing is...I wasn't attacked at all...they just ignored me and only went for my friends. But after they were done they looked at me in this way—this way that was so,"you pause,trying to find your bearings,"haunting. Not like they wanted to eat me but something else entirely..." Your rub your pudgy fingers as you explain and Geto does something surprising.

He grips your hands to stop the constant movement. His smooth fingers rub soothing circles on your now healed skin. And it feels so good to be touched with affection, so good that you almost forgot to finish your story. "I went to the police as soon as it happened and I was told it was probably an animal attack but I know what I saw...I know wholeheartedly. And that's why I was sitting alone,everyone thinks I'm some crazy person making stuff up." Your bottom lip begins to tremble as you feel tears begin to pool in your eyes.

"And you probably think I'm crazy now too..." Your voice breaks and your brain is working overtime. How humiliating that you're breaking down to a total stranger in public too! God,why are you so pathetic? So vulnerable to the point you easily melt into the arms of an unknown person. Has your sense of self truly scrambled that far away from you? 

Geto extends his arm to wrap around your supple body,he's warm and smells like ocean breeze mixed with sandalwood. "I don't, I believe you." It's a whisper yet the impact is like a loud shout. "You do?" He gets closer,his soft pink lips muttering so close to the shell of your ear,"I do." You shiver involuntarily,your body unable to contain the way his coo affected you physically.

"Thank you." It's a mumble but still Geto acknowledges it with a soft squeeze on your body.

"I brought the food!" A happy voice interjects. Gojo sets down loads of plates of delectable looking food. And suddenly your tummy rumbles just looking at the many options of food.

Gojo hears it,"You hungry now?" You nod shyly and can't help but look down at the very good options. After weeks of eating too cold food and mess hall trash seeing the hot bar meals would make anyone hungry. White hair bobs as the tall man takes his seat next to you.

"Go on,eat." He smiles a toothy grin. His hand extends to your lips with a forkful of pasta that smells so good you literally inhale it. You instinctively open your mouth only to quickly close it. Because oh my God were you about to let this stranger feed you? Has hardly any human interaction made you so compliant?

Gojo pouts,"What's wrong?" You quickly try to reassure him,"It's nothing...but I can feed myself,y'know.." You almost forgot Geto is still holding you,the only cause for remembering is strictly based on the firm squeeze he gives your upper body. "Eat." He asks,more like demands.

Despite how demanding he sounded it was still gentle? Almost like a calming song in an odd way. You open your mouth and Gojo happily stuffs the fork in your mouth. You chew and melt into the flavors of the yummy dish but you can't fully enough it because the men you're sitting next to are quietly observing you.

Another bite is feed to you and another,then another until the pasta is all gone. Every single time you took a bite Geto and Gojo all watched in admiration. Geto,who still has you in a half embrace would caress the supple skin of your bare arms that are free from sleeves in your cotton cami. The texture of the pads of his fingers would rub you as you ate.

And Gojo would clean up your chubby face if he missed your mouth just a little bit. He'd use his thumb to wipe away the evidence of the mess with his oddly sharp and long tongue. His other hand also stayed close and near to the pudge that hangs low on your abdomen,practically cupping the fat that adorns the area.

And all while eating you didn't realize how intimate this interaction really is. Two men watching you as your spoon fed by one and both touching you so...personally;this is not a normal interaction between strangers. You know that,yet it feels too good to tell them to stop. You haven't been touched with affection in so long so why fight it when two handsome men are practically draped all over you?

"Would you like some dessert?" Geto asks. Gojo chimes in,"You should absolutely have some dessert. I got these cute cakes for you to try." You look down in embarrassment,"I don't know if I should...I just ate the pasta." Gojo quirks his brow up in confusion,"So? You can't have dessert too?"

You smile,"I guess I can." Gojo grins brightly,"Atta girl,open wide." Already with spoon in hand and a sweet treat in it, he moves it to your mouth. Of course you accept and chew happily on the sweet treat until a thought interrupts this indulgent interaction. Why haven't they eaten? You've been here,being fed and talked to by these for at least an hour or more,but they haven't eaten? Why come to the lunch hall then?

You quickly swallow the treat,"Aren't you guys hungry?" Geto answers,"Oh me and Gojo were earlier but watching you eat has satisfied our appetite." His response is followed with an enthusiastic nod by his blue eyed friend,"Mhm! You eat so cute it's hard not to get full."

You make a face full of doubt,"Umm,I dunno if you guys are trying to be overly nice to me but I don't believe that for one second." You push away Geto's hold on you and Gojo's slight grip on you to scoot away from the pair. Suddenly,you've fully realized that this whole thing is really weird even though you truly are enjoying the attention from the very good looking men.

But that enjoyment isn't enough to just ignore how fast and dangerous this all could possibly be. You don't know how you just dazed off and forgotten all about that. You stand up and urgently say,"Look,you guys have been really nice to me and I totally appreciate it but this is just all really weird for me so I'm just gonna—"

Geto stands up with such a quickness it's almost supernatural,"Shhh...you don't mean that sweet girl. Just come and sit with me and Saturo,yeah? We'll make all that confusion will go away,okay?" His words are so sweet,so soft and gentle;inviting to the point you almost relax back to the seat but you don't.

"No—can't. This is so personal and you guys don't even know me...plus everyone can see you behaving this way with me." You go to grab your bag but Gojo stops your exit this time. "C'mon cutie,it's okay. It's just me and Sugu,we wouldn't wanna do anything to hurt our lil pretty new friend. If it's the people watching...we can take you up to our dorm and continue this there."

Geto adds,"That's a good idea, all these people shouldn't be watching you anyways." You look at them in confusion and seriously debate if going back to their dorm is actually a good idea at all. "Don't treat your new friends like this;we're not gonna hurt you." Friends? Are they really calling themselves friends?

You bite your lip and glare down at your beat up sneakers,"I don't know.." Gojo pulls you close to him by gripping your soft hand,"It's okay,cutie. It's just me and Geto,we won't do anything."

You bite your lip,stumped with providing them with an answer,it's useless though because an arm links with yours and already starts ushering you along to exit the mess hall. "W-Wait!" You try to pull yourself away from the limb but it's like forged iron. Geto utters,"It's okay. Just come with us. It's just us."

You were panicked,worried,anxious to the point of feeling like throwing up. The feeling washes away as Geto soothes you with his words;odd considering the fact that he's not explicitly saying anything too calming. He's just talking,yet his syllables feel like warm chamomile tea that just eases your mind and heart.

It feels magical...too artificial of a feeling it's almost like being on a high. The feeling only increases when Gojo joins his friend in talking to you;literally and metaphorically syncing with him as he also links his arm with yours.

The longer they talk the more woozy you begin to feel. Your walls of distrust and logic melt away like rapid candle wax,so much so that you begin teeter into their touch.

Your mind is confused and vulnerable to the point you don't realize you're in front of their dorm room until Gojo pulls you into the room. They both free you of their hold and suddenly you feel more conscious.

"Why'd you take me here? I didn't even get a say.." Geto rubs the apparent flesh on the back of your arms,"It's alright...you'll enjoy being with us." Your brows scrunch and you want to spew something aggressive but his touch and his voice are just too...distracting.

"G-Geto.." you whimper. You don't know why you say his name,it's just the only thing your mouth will allow you to say. "Yes, tell me what do you want?" You snuggle closer into his touch,breathless and confused,"I don't know..." Gojo then walks closer to you,taking up the front portion of your body. His hands cling to your wide waist;digits dig into the dough like flesh.

"Would you like for us to give you an option?" The long haired man whispers in your ear,his lips practically pecking the shell of the cartilage. You're weak and feel all too needy. Needy for what is the real question though.

"Please,yes.." you lowly whimper. With that the two men place you onto a soft bouncy mattress,leaving you without the their touch for a few minutes but that doesn't last for long. Gojo already has his hands on your tummy,practically massaging the flesh with his hands. He leans forwards and starts suckling on the skin of your nape.

He starts thumbing the beginning of your loose fitting shorts,"I think these should come off." You gulp and grip onto him,"I-I haven't shaved just so you know." Gojo starts pulling down the waistband to the point he could see your bellybutton,"I didn't ask if you shaved,I said these should come off."  You gasp as you feel a new pair of hands on your thighs—pulling down the bottom half of the outfit.

Geto looks up at you from the position of him being on his knees;slotted perfectly in between your big thighs. "I agree with Saturo,everything should just come off you." Gojo starts pulling off the hem of your panties and once they're low enough Geto grabs the material and carefully slides them off your legs. He does something unusual,by bringing the damp material to his face and taking a deep inhale. He groans into the panties,eyes closed in bliss and a deep harbored groan flees his lips.

Gojo looks down in jealousy and whines for his other half to hand him the undies. You watch as Geto begrudgingly passes him the undergarment. Gojo brings them to his face and his bright blues eyes almost glow with light as he huffs in the smell of your pussy. "Mate smells so good. Fuck..."  You brows furrow in confusion,what did he mean by mate? It's such a primitive and almost animal like to refer to you as that. You don't have much time to think of it though as demand takes all your attention.

"Spread,so we can see that pretty pussy..." The ravenette orders you. You're about to do it but insecurity nags at you,the condition of your unshaven and wild looking pussy drains away at your confidence. What's the point of spreading anyway? The fat of your lips and hair will block the view of anything worth looking at.

"Spread." Gojo repeats. You shake your head no;embarrassment and now common sense are starting to grow back into your brain. Both of the men huff,annoyed with the fact they can't just view the pussy they can smell from miles away,even in water.

For two months since they last fed,they've been so stuck on finding this woman with an unearth like aroma. The being smelt of brown sugar and sweet honey. They've been so determined to find the owner of the scent they've enrolled in this stupid college and kept tabs on you for so long.

Now they have you,almost bare,snagged in their hypnotic touch,yet you won't even let them see what rightfully belongs to them? No. That just won't do.

"Gojo,bring the mirror over here." Immediately the man sitting next to you stands up and retrieves a long floor length mirror to right in front of the bed. You observe yourself in the mirror,tired eyes that look bothered, your flustered face and your slightly messy hair,all the way to your bare lower body.

Why bring the mirror though? Your question is answered when Geto suddenly arises from the floor,taking the space the former was sitting on the bed. His strong hand grips the fatty flesh of your thigh,placing it on his lap. Gojo,now sitting on the opposite side does the same action. You fluster,"What're you doing?" Gojo hums with a happy expression,"Spreading."

They both extend your legs further til your pussy is completely exposed to them in the view of the mirror. "Perfect." Geto says lowly into the cusp of your neck and shoulder. "So pretty,I just wanna lick it." You tensed at the admiration for such a private area,a private area that four pair of eyes are constantly eyeing hungrily.

"So many things we could make you do..." The white haired man suggests. "Mhm,but right now I wanna see her play with it." Geto answers. "P-Play with it?" You try to close your legs back but their grips are too strong on your legs. You couldn't do that—not in front of them. It's embarrassing;being open and exposing yourself raw like that.

Gojo whines,"You're so mean. Trying to close what's rightfully ours. Just play with it...you wanna make yourself feel good,right?" His words and his touch feel like the law,like you have to obey. He didn't say anything overly convincing,yet your body can't help but comply.

Your pudgy digits reach down in between the plump lips—traveling way down to the pulsing hole. The fingers circle the entrance,barely touching the wet flesh. You huff at the light touch,already feeling needy. "It's alright,you can put one in." Geto urges.

You gaze into the mirror,observing the sight of your finger so easily sliding into the welcoming hole. A gasp flees your lips as the appendage starts moving in and out of you. "There you go...keep going."

You obey,moving the lone finger faster and harder than the first few movements. "Fuckkkk,that looks so good. Mate looks so good playing with her pussy." Gojo howls out. Playing with your pussy is not the only view you're able to see in mirror. Gojo and Geto's are in the displaying glass as well;their hard cocks out in the open as they go up and down at the same pace as you.

You bite your lip,immensely turned on by the view of the two men bringing themselves sweet undeniable pleasure. Their hands wander up and down your legs,holding tight the excess flesh you have on the limbs. Geto groans,"Your legs are so pretty,just like the rest of you. So plump and soft. Perfect for giving you so many pups." You moan at his words,adding another digit for the adding bliss.

Blue eyes close in joy,"Oh? You like that? Wanna get pregnant with me and Sugu's babies? Wanna be full of pups?" His hips stutter up into his o shaped hand,"F-Fuck,say yes! Tell us how badly you want that." A whine falls from your babbling mouth,"Want! Need it so bad." Geto groans as he reaches over you to bite into the soft skin of your neck;sinking his teeth in so deep you can feel the light liquid of blood dribble down. Your back arches at the strange sensation that hurts,yet feels oddly so good.

Gojo also goes for a bite,lower though,he finds the spot of your plump shoulder to be perfect. "Mm,you're gonna take it so well when me and Gojo fuck you." The ravenette mumbles into your flesh. His hand travels down to the pouch of your fat that rest slightly above your uterus,he gives it a harsh grasp;fingers digging into the moldable skin. "Perfect,so perfect for giving babies."

Your digits curl into the wet cavern and your body almost folds itself just trying to reach that special spot that resides so deeply in you. You whimper in frustration,your average sized fingers not being just enough to reach that oh so very special spot.

Gojo laughs,"Can't reach? It's okay cutie,me and Sugu will be touching you there all the damn time. Just continue making yourself feel good,yeah? Want you to cum all over your little fingers so I can lick it off." With that bit of encouragement,you thrust deeper;curling the digits so far they're like hooks going into your sloppy cunt.

"Mmmm,look at your cute face. Making such adorable faces in the mirror for us.." Geto hums in your neck,lapping up with rouge from his bite with his slender tongue. Gojo grips your chubby face in his palm,"Right,look at those pudgy cheeks,just wanna bite em." He releases his hold and goes for a gentle nibble on the fat,almost suckling on it like a baby.

With a loud moan,your hand darts out to get a hold on Geto's hair;an action he revels in,loving the harsh pull on the silky strands. "Feels so good." You stammer. "Yeah? That feels good?" Geto purrs. You nod furiously,too caught up in your own pleasure to chatter anymore.

Geto and Gojo experience the same feeling—their eyes are shut in pure anticipation,their pretty swollen tips throbbing to let out the milky substance. You moan louder at the reflection in the mirror;the glass showing you the two men who are so close to falling off the brink of pleasure. The men who just look so desperate to spill all over your spread form.

Faster,harder,deeper is all the thought your mind allows you to even think. Your fingers are working overtime,trying to get over that brink of sweet ecstasy. With one hard thrust,your essence splays all over the mirror,distorting the clear reflection of the glass.

Geto cums soon after,then Gojo. As they do,they make it obvious the cum is all over your body. It mostly splatters on your thighs and your tummy.

You breathe heavily and look at them in astonishment,"Oh my God..."

You couldn't believe it,couldn't believe cumming in front of people you just met,couldn't believe letting them cum all over you,couldn't believe hearing them call you mate and say things like mate—isn't that really weird? You sit up away from the duo and look at them suspiciously. And again you feel more conscious without their touch on you.  More like you can clearly think and think logically.

"Why'd you wanna do this with me?" It's accusing,the question,it practically spews suspicion if it wasn't obvious enough. Geto reaches to touch your thigh,but you move away. "Don't touch me. I dunno what's going on with you two...but it's weird."

Gojo chuckles,"Aww,cutie are you feeling nervous? It's okay—" You cut him off with a desperate shout,"Answer my question! Please! Why?"

They look at each other for a few long seconds,thinking about what to say. You know they’re probably thinking about some elaborate lie that won’t even begin to fool you. How could you be so stupid? So easily wooed to do something so very intimate with these strangers? God,could you be anymore stupid?

They don’t give you any answers—no,the much bigger men tackle you onto the bed. Their hands grab all and any appendage that could fight back.

There it is again…that strange drossy feeling. It returns with a revenge time,it no longer feels like a light enjoyable feeling. Now it’s overtaking all your senses,stealing away your conscious mind.

“Sleep. You want to sleep. Sleep. You want to sleep.” Both of the voices chant to you,repeating the phrase over and over again. No! You don’t want to sleep,yet the more the repeat,the more they tell you what you want,the more your eyes begin to sag and you no longer see anything more.

Black.

▂▂▂▂▂

“No,Su’ you’re not covering her enough!” The annoyed voice of blue eyed man shouts. Geto huffs,”That’s all we have left in us. We could rub it in to scent her further. Calm down.”

Lips pout out in a childlike manner,”I’m just sayin so we can be careful. So many will probably want out mate,she’s so perfect for pups after all.” A chuckle follows,”You’re so possessive sometimes. No one will want her since we’ve marked her.”

“Oh,I’m possessive? You’re the one who said we should eat everyone just because that little guy friend of her touched her while making an escape. I—“Gojo points to his chest proudly,”just wanted to eat two or three but you got all murdery after he touched her.”

Geto rolls his black irises so far they disappear into the white of his socket,”Whatever. You would’ve ate them all anyways because you’re so damn jealous of others having her attention.” Gojo gasps,offending greatly,”Am not! I don’t get jealous like you!”

Geto laughs amused,knowing exactly how his life long friend works,”Alright,you win.” The white haired man hums triumphantly. Physically saying,”I know that’s right!”

“But are you sure we shouldn’t cum a little more on her?” Gojo cranes his head to look next to him,”No,we have to save some when we cum in her so we fertilize the eggs.” He nods,accepting the answer.

▂▂▂▂▂

When you wake up you’re greeted with the sight of loitering heads hanging above you.

You attempt to yelp only to have a hand roughly clap against your mouth. “Shhh,the yell will only echo in the cave.” A high voice says. Cave? Last time you checked you weren’t in a cave;the last location being a college dorm rooms.

The now known voice of Gojo exclaims,”I’m so happy you’re up though! Me and Geto were getting worried that we’d have to give you pups while you were asleep. Which is no fun cause we can’t hear your pretty little moans like that.” You cringe at his explanation—the thought of being used unconsciously giving you the creeps.

You get more creeped out though,the view of your surroundings not seeming so promising. There’s visible peeled human flesh in the cave,scattered around the stone. And the smell of old iron and rotten flesh takes over your nostrils. Oh God…you fingerfucked yourself in front of a bunch of monsters. And they probably want to eat you next too,just like your friends! Once they’re tired of you, you’re definitely on the menu.

Tears start streaming down your chubby face and your body begins to shake. “Just eat me already! Please don’t play with me and just eat me!” Your pathetic cries are met with laughter. This pauses your sobbing because why are they laughing at you?

“Oh my God! You’re so cute! Eat you? Noo!” Gojo folds over clutching his bare abdomen. Geto joins the laughter,”You’re so silly,we don’t want to eat you! You’re our mate! Imagine that,Gojo? Eating all our future pups like that!” Mate? Pups? These words sound familiar,like the ones they were saying the last time…intimacy happened.

Now that you look them in their true form you see why they chose the verbiage. They have scales matching their hair colors coating all four of their limbs,paired with gills on the neck’s and sides. As they laugh they also show their three rows of flesh piercing teeth. They were definitely some kind of animal like creature. But what?

“So you’re not gonna eat me?” You ask tentatively. Geto nods,”No,we want to make you our mate. That’s why we went through all that trouble of getting you.” Gojo urges in agreement,”Mhm! We just wanna fill you with pups and live with ya forever. And actually,”he lowers his hand down to his bare crotch gripping his already hard cock,”We’ve been meaning to do it soon as we brought you here. But you’re such a sleepyhead we had to wait til you woke up.”

You watch as he gives it a good stroke,looking you up and down as does so. And that’s when you realize you’re completely bare too;with some white milky substance coating your whole body. Another voice joins in,”Mhm,we’ve been dying to get inside you. And I don’t intend on waiting any longer.”

“W-Wait!” You try to protest but it’s no avail,Gojo is already on top of your naked body. Grips and gropes are felt all over from the monster,your chest,your plentiful body,your wide supple hips that sting as his hold won’t get any looser. He licks and bites every fiber in skin in front of him,everything being marked by his rough movements.

Geto comes in front of your laying position,stroking up and down as he watches his companion go feral with his urges. “Warm her up,Satoru. Make her feel good first.” He doesn’t respond verbally,his actions speaking loud enough for him;his mouth moves to suckle on the hard bud on top your breast aching for some type of stimulation.

You moan at the sensation only to be silenced by a passionate kiss from the long haired man. His tongue intertwines with yours creating a languid dance with the pink muscles. Gojo pops off your breast,sounding breathless and needy.

“I don’t wanna wait no more..Wanna be inside.” He whines,already lining up his cock with your soaked entrance. Geto sighs,”Maybe I should fuck her first…I’m more patient.” It’s a loud protest,”NO! Me! Please I want to first.”

You interrupt,swollen mouth readily to spew exactly what you want at this moment,”Just do it. Fuck me.” You don’t know what came over you to say that. Maybe it was their hypnotizing touch? They’re intimidatingly now known power over you? Or perhaps after months of being so harshly ignored you just needed this. Needed to be molded and groomed just to be something again…Whatever it is leads to the man on top of you finally giving into his desires.

With a shaky groan he impales you with his cock. He doesn’t halt nor wait for you to adjust—his urges of breeding being too strong. As he bucks into you he reshapes your legs to his satisfaction,bending them all the way against the fat of your stomach;indulging in the way the soft flesh jiggles with each rough piston of his hips.

“Good! Feel so good!” He howls into the echoing cave. “Look at you,taking it like such a good mate.” Geto purrs,rubbing his now scale textured palm on your soft face. “You see all the faces she makes when you’re fucking her,Saturo?”

“Y-Yeah! So cute!” He thrusts harder into your welcoming cunt,contorting himself to almost nuzzle your face every time he goes in and out of you. You whine and grip onto him,feeling an orgasm coming soon. You face twists into one of awaiting pleasure;the orgasm just teetering away from you.

“She’s about to cum! Go faster!” Geto encourages. Gojo,obliges,each of his harsh thrust definitely leaving bruising marks on the back of thighs and asscheeks.

Every movement is like a symphony—coordinating your final path to pleasure. The instruments? The clapping noises of Gojo prodding your hole roughly and passionately. The applause? The sweet noises you’d let fly past your tongue. And finally with one last shove into you,the orchestrater of your orgasm allowed you to sing his high praises.

You see white,yet Gojo doesn’t stop his hips—No he goes faster until he oozes into you hot white sticky semen. He stiffens for a second then reels back into the cavern,to the point his tip kisses your cervix. He stays in you until an odd sensation travels through your walls.

Orbs or something resembling a sphere fight against the strict wall of your womb. It starts with one,then the second,the the third,and the fourth is when you start to feel the invasion of whatever is being deposited in you.

“W-What’s going on?” Geto leans down and kisses your plump cheek,”Gojo’s giving you his pups. Don’t worry it’ll only hurt when they try to get into your womb,but you’re such a good mate you’ll take all of them.”

“A-All of them?” The reparation doesn’t help with understanding the idea. “All of them! And then you’re gonna take Sugu’s too! Isn’t that great?” Gojo joyfully informs you.

Your brain and body hurts so you simply just nod,pretending like you know what they mean. You’re tired. So tired that you lean into Geto’s gentle cupping of your face,closing your eyes;letting the two beings do whatever they want at this point.

Allowing yourself to be totally and wholly consumed by them.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED 🫶🏽🫶🏽 tysm for reading

[lavandulawrites]

Yandere HSR Men With a Darling Who Catches them Kill Part 1

Yandere Anaxa x reader, yandere Argenti x reader, yandere Aventurine x reader, yandere Blade x reader

This will be in 5 parts with 4 characters each part:) When all the parts are finished, I will put all the drabbles in one big post;) I got slightly carried away with Aventurine’s part

Masterlist

Warnings: murder, dead dove do not eat, gore, graphic description of murder, obsession, possessiveness, overprotective behaviour, they’re all such simps oml, delusional behaviour, the yanderes are all insane, manipulation, reader does not get hurt

Word count: 2632

Anaxa

Being a well known professor had its perks. One of them being that trust was something people granted one rather freely. Anaxa had at first wanted to use his immense brainpower to lure the rotten man to him, but the said man had come to him rather willingly. He had placed great trust in the sage and his admiration was clear as the endless day in Okhema. The man’s name was uninteresting and a name that tasted like bile whenever the teal-haired man uttered it.

Whenever they spoke, his blood boiled within his veins like molten lava and he wanted nothing more than to claw out the man’s eyes with his fingernails. His idiocy was insulting, but it was something Anaxagoras could use to his advantage.

The biggest mistake the poor excuse of a man had made was ruining you with his touch and words. The professor had seen the way the man had make you uncomfortable and he had heard on countless occasions that you only viewed the man as a acquaintance. However, this seemed to fly over the man’s head as he continued to pester you. Anaxa had grown tired and a well deserved punishment was due.

The sun was high on the sky and warm wind ruffled Anaxagoras’ hair. His lone eye was plastered to the form of the man as he wiped his for head with the back of his hand. Sweat was sticking to his disgusting neck as he wheezed. “I must say, I didn’t take you for the hiking type” he barked out a disgust laughter that made Anaxa narrow his eye in pure disgust.

“Hmm… Well I am” his reply was curt and with a biting edge. Two minutes till they reached the destination. Then Anaxa could finally rid the world of that pest. The dagger in his coat pocket was heavy and ready to be used. So far everything had gone according to his calculations.

The plateau was filled with lush grass and multiple wildflowers in pastel colours. The wind was stronger up there and it caused Anaxa’s eye to become watery. Normally that would have annoyed him greatly, but not now.

As the man peered down over the edge and onto the ground far below, Anaxagoras stalked forward with quick and silent steps. His dagger was raised high above his head and he brought it down onto the man’s back with enough force for it to completely impale him. The man screamed as blood splattered across the baby pink flowers underneath him. He gurgled on his own disgusting blood as he collapsed on his front. He was only a meter from the edge and it was dangerously tempting for Anaxa to just kick him down, but he knew better.

A choked cry sounded across the cliff. “Anaxa… what is this?” you asked with a quivering voice. Anaxa smiled at you gently. His eye dark as the wave of darkness that threatened Amphoreus.

He stalked towards you with slow steps. His demeanour was confident. “My dear, do not worry. He won’t hurt you anymore” he spoke with a soft tone as his bloodied hands found yours. His grip was tight, yet gentle.

“Hurt me?” you asked while tears streamed endlessly down your cheeks.

Anaxa’s expression shifted to surprise before it went back to the soft look that always made you feel warm inside. “Don’t tell me you weren’t aware?”

You blinked at him “Aware? What do you mean Anaxa? I don’t understand…”

His fingers gently wiped away your tears. “He had been planning to stab you to death, [Name]. I am sorry you had to see this. But it had to be done. I couldn’t let him take away the most important person in my life. I couldn’t let him take away you, the most precious person there is” he pulled you into a hug. Your face against his throat as he hugged you tightly as if you were his life line. You hugged him back, grateful that he had saved you from your doom. Grief filled you. How could you ever doubt him? Anaxa had always tried to protect you, it was for the best if you listened to him. For had he ever lied to you?

Argenti

The smell of fresh roses mixed together with the suffocating smell of blood filled the air. The Knight of Beauty danced in an almost sensual tango with his trusted lance. Petals from the rose bushes soared in the air, quickly accompanied by crimson splatter that held similarity with red rain. The scene was just like the paintings one could find in the most grand museums.

With a quick and precise movement the blade of the lance sliced through the man’s chest, causing blood to spurt out like a hot and sticky fountain.

Argenti sneered at the pure ugliness of the man who had so greedily touched you with his sinful hand. How dared he dirty your beauty which such utter filth? The knight raised his heavy foot and stomped on the man’s bloodied chest. His heel dug into his skin and at the satisfying crunch of a broken rib caused his lips to stretch out into a crazed smile. Oh how he was going to enjoy ripping him apart. The universe was better of without such grotesque ugliness.

A shrill scream broke Argenti out of his bloodthirsty trance. His sage eyes widened. He could recognise that voice everywhere. He slowly turned his head and was met with your tear ridden face.

“My beautiful rose… what brings you here?” Argenti’s voice was a mixture of panic and admiration. His face softened at the sigh of you. Oh Idrila were you beautiful.

“Wh-what have you done Argenti?” your voice was shaky as you choked halfway through your sentence. Your eyes were as red as the blood that still poured out from the dead man.

The red-haired knight smiled gently as he shook his head. “My dear, this is no place for you. You really were not meant to see such horrible things” as quickly as lighting he had pulled you within his arms. His muscular form tightly pressed against you. He kissed the crown of your head as he murmured soft praise of your beauty. A gentle gloved hand gently raised your head so that you could meet his striking eyes. “Let’s go home. The ‘One and Only’ is waiting for us” soft lips pressed against your cheek in a gentle kiss. It made you wonder if he believed he would break you had he put any more pressure. And who knows, maybe he would?

The trek back to the spaceship was silent and suffocating. At first you had tried to stifle your cries, but after a while you did not care if he heard.

The gentle knight you once knew was gone, and all that was left was a hauntingly beautiful beast whose love was darker and more dangerous than any creatures in the vast universe.

Aventurine

“I will give you two options. Either you play a round of poker or-” the blonde man puled out a sleek black gun from the inner pocket of his luxurious turquoise blazer. The gun gleamed ominously in the lighting of the casino. “Or, I shoot you right now. Your choice!” his grinned. His canines oddly threatening.

The man swallowed hardly at the sight of the gun, before he forced a faux confident smile. “I chose the first option, poker.”

“Very well” Aventurine put the gun back in the pocket with a smirk. “I take it that you know the rules?”

“I do” the man nodded.

“Great!” Aventurine beamed

It didn’t take long for the man to realise his loss was inevitable. His hand was utter shit. Aventurine won the game with a royal flush. The air deflated from the man’s body as he stared down on the poker table in defeat.

“It seems that I won” the Stoneheart’s cheery voice sliced through the silence like a sharp knife.

“Why… Why do you do this? What have I done? Is it the money I borrowed? I payed you back some weeks ago! I know it was overdue, but I still payed you!” the man’s voice was frantic as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Why you ask?” Aventurine’s voice was like ice. “I will tell you why” he leaned over the table “It’s about [Name]. Do you seriously think you can take away the love of my life? Are you really that stupid? You are going to pay for what you have done. It’s only fair” his voice was laced with enough poison to kill a grown man. In the blink of an eye the gambler’s expression had changed from deadly to friendly. “Oh don’t be sad my friend! I promise I will show you mercy!” he chuckled.

“No! Please no! I beg of you! I promise I will never be near [Name] ever again! You have my word! Just please!” the man fell to his knees begging, the chair tumbled over as a result of his sudden movements. Fat tears ran down his disgusting face as he begged to be spared.

Aventurine’s handsome face twisted into disgust and pure hatred as he started down his nose at the begging man. “I have your word, hmm? As if that is good enough. You have already wasted my time enough. I have a date with [Name], and I cannot bear to have my jewel waiting” harsh words echoed across the dark lit room.

Aventurine rose from his seat. He stretched his limbs like a cat. In a blink of an eye the black gun was pointed at the man. Long fingers pulled the safety of. The sound of two gunshots rang through the thick air. The man wailed as he fell back onto his back. Blood poured out from the wounds on his knees. The flesh was ripped open and the white bone was clear on display.

Unhinged giggles fell from the blonde man’s lips.

Aventurine crouched down, his fingers running through the blood splatter. The blood was warm on his finger as he lifted his hand up to the light. “I am so glad you said yes to my invitation. It really saved me the trouble of dragging you here myself” he smeared the crimson liquid between his fingertips. “It was a fun game, my friend” his words were bittersweet, but deadly.

Back on his feet, Aventurine aimed the gun at the man’s head. With a wide grin and maddening eyes, h spilled the trigger. The gun recoiled in his hand and he almost shuddered. The bullet pierced straight through the man’s forehead and through his thick skull. The back of his head was blown off and onto the newly polished dark wooden floors. The bullet-hole started back at Aventurine like a dark abyss. Pink brain matter was shatter across the mean and it look oddly similar to some of the jelly candies that were awfully popular.

The door swung open and Aventurine’s heart stopped for a second. Fuck. Quicker than lighting he pulled his suit jacket off and laid it over the body’s head and shoulders. It was a nice jacket and it pained him to ruin it, but he could just by a new one. However, you getting traumatised was not something he could undo.

With long steps he was at the door. You creaked the door opened and smiled when you were met with the beautiful eyes of the man you loved.

“Hi Aventurine!” you greeted him with your beautiful smile.

Aventurine’s heart fastened at your precious smile. Oh the Aeons, how he loved you. “Hi [Name]-”

“Aventurine what is that?” your interrupted him with a silent tone.

Oh he was fucked. “It’s nothing really. Are you ready for our date?”

“Is he dead? God please tell me he isn’t. Did you do this?” you clasped your hand over your mouth as you watched the body with wide eyes.

Aventurine sighed. It was too late to make you unsee what you had seen, so why not just tell you the truth?

“Yes. He was more a monster than man, so don’t feel bad, my darling” strong arms wrapped around your trembling form. He pulled your head towards his chest so you could not see the horrors that was the deceased man.

“Don’t worry, nothing will ever hurt you. Not as long as I live. I will bring hell on earth if someone as much as touch you. I love you [Name]” his words was the only thing that echoed through your mind. Every other thoughts was drowned out by his honeyed voice.

Blade

The sound of a blade swung through the air filled the deserted clearing. The grass underneath the Stellaron Hunter’s shoes was stained red by the countless bodies that strewn out. Lifeless eyes gazed up at the black night sky. Stars were scattered across the horizon as the watched the scene unfold. The cold light of the moon shone on the dark blue hair of the swordsman as he moved effortlessly. He was brutal, but there was a certain terrifying beauty in him.

As the last man fell to the ground in his own puddle of blood, Blade breathed out. A cruel smile formed on his lips as he took in the sight with glee. 11 men he had cut through. It had been rather easy, easier than he would have liked, but that could not be blamed from such incompetent men.

He stopped by a seemingly blond man (it was hard to tell with all the blood). The man had plead for his life and it had only brought Blade annoyance. He had especially enjoyed tearing him limb for limb.

The men had all been to the same bar that you had been to a few nights before. They have all tried hitting on you and you had kindly rejected them all. The sight had made Blade’s blood boil, but he knew he couldn’t do anything, at least not yet. Not when he had promised to take a few days off to spend some time with you.

He had lured them to the clearing within the dense woods and slain them on after the other. Despite being filled with anger and pure hatred, it was rather therapeutic.

The sound of a twig snapping was enough to pull him out of his thoughts. A smile played on his lips. Finally.

You stopped at the foot at the clearing. Your eyes wide and your mouth agape. Your eyes found his blood red ones. Tears escaped your gaze and they plopped down onto the grass. Blade’s breath was caught in his throat as he watched you. God were you beautiful. Almost too beautiful to be real. A part of him felt bad for letting you see the massacre, but the other part of him knew it was for the best. You needed to know that he would protect you no matter what and that nothing would ever come between the two of you.

“I will always protect you. They had it coming” despite his gruff voice, his words had a softness to them. A softness that was unexpected.

Your eyes darted over the bodies, over the marred faces that were missing skin and revealing tendons and muscles for the world to see.

Suddenly, like the quickness of his trusted blade, he was beside you. A bandaged hand pushed hair out of your face as crimson eyes started down on you with adoration and love. His hand was dry despite the bloodiness of the field.

“I will keep you safe. I promise” he pulled you into a gentle hug that was so uncharacteristic of him that it made you blink through your tears. “I love you.”

[devonpink]

Jack O'Bros

You'd think attending a slutty Halloween party full of hot guys would be a blast, but you'd be dead wrong. My god were they all brain-dead! Don't get me wrong, I like a good old-fashioned hot dumb ass from time to time, but all of them?! Also, I never imagined pumpkin heads being the hot costume for men this year? Who'd want to wear a carved-out dirty pumpkin on their head all night? I guess that's dumb jocks for yah. What sucks is I was really looking forward to that party, but I just had to get out of there. They were all starting to give me the creeps, not in that fun Halloween way but actually.

Those pumpkin heads were all acting so hive-like, talking in monotone and endlessly repeating the same phrases. "The pumpkin heads must grow. All men must be seeded. We must grow. We must seed." What the fuck is all that?! I thought it was all some elaborate joke but nope. The creepiest part was that you could barely hear them unless you got up really close to their carved-out pumpkin mouths. However, if you did that, they'd suddenly garb you—a little too tightly I might add. I eventually dipped out after getting grabbed one too many times. Uh, that party sucked. At least they were all shirtless, so I got something out of it.

Thank god the party wasn't too far from my apartment, so I could clear my head over a nice walk. However, halfway home, I ran into another Jack O'dumb ass.

Aside from the pumpkin on his head, he was carrying one in his hand. He was muttering the same hive-like crap the others were, but I could only focus on that and instead how the carved-out pumpkin he was caring looked exactly my size. It was creepy. I walked past him, trying to ignore him, but the second I had my back to him, he forcefully shoved that disgusting pumpkin he was carrying on my head!

It was so fucking gross, the smell was repulsive—not like a pumpkin, but axe body spray mixed with masculine musk. It was as if my head was shoved in a jock's sweaty pit. The reek instantly made my head spin, causing me to fall to the cold concrete beneath me. I could barely think, my eyes rolling back from the intensity. Suddenly, both my ears were penetrated by something that felt like a vine. I started shaking in pure fear, grasping the ground. The pain was excruciating, but the pleasure of my conscription soon took hold. The vines drained my thoughts—my everything—and replaced them with only what should remain in a pumpkin-head drone. I gasped in agony, not in pain but utter pleasure. It felt so fucking good. I wanted more, so much fucking more.

Within a few seconds, I finally heard the sweet mantra of the pumpkin heads. "The pumpkin heads must grow. All men must be seeded. We must grow. We must seed," I said with a smile, although you couldn't see it behind my new head. I quickly got up from the ground and tore my shirt off, revealing my sweaty ripped abs. How else are you supposed to entice the future recruits, bro?

After all, the pumpkin heads must grow. All men must be seeded. We must grow. We must seed.

Join us, bro.

[soulofapatrick]

Not Even Close - Azriel x female reader 

Summary: Cassian gives you an idea that sends Azriel reeling 

Words: 2.2K 

Warnings: None

Y/N's POV

The ballroom hums with life.

Golden faelights drift above us, casting a soft, flickering glow over the polished marble floors. Laughter and music twine through the air, mingling with the heady scent of spiced wine and night-blooming jasmine. Silk skirts swirl like waves, crystal goblets clink in delicate cheers, and beyond the arched windows, the stars burn bright against the velvety dark.

It’s dazzling, almost surreal—the kind of moment plucked straight from a story.

At the center of it all, Rhysand spins Feyre in his arms, moving with a practiced ease that only mates seem to master. Feyre’s laughter rings out—light, breathless—her head thrown back in pure delight as Rhys grins down at her, utterly smug.

I take a slow sip of my wine, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes.

"Look at them," Cassian groans beside me, arms crossed over his chest. "Absolutely disgusting."

"They’re happy," Azriel murmurs, though the ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips.

Cassian scoffs. "Happy, sure. But must they be so theatrical about it? The twirling? The longing gazes?" He sighs, exaggerated and forlorn. "If only someone would sweep Az off his feet like that."

Azriel’s golden eyes snap to him, shadows curling at the edges of his frame in silent warning. "Don’t."

The words have barely left his mouth before an idea strikes me—ridiculous, reckless, wonderful.

A slow, wicked grin spreads across my lips as I set my goblet down. "Actually," I say, my voice deceptively casual, "that’s not a bad idea."

Azriel turns to me, brows drawing together slightly. "What—"

I don’t let him finish.

Before he can react, I step forward, duck slightly, and sweep him clean off his feet.

A sharp inhale—the only sound he makes before his entire body locks up. His muscles go taut, wings flaring the barest fraction in pure, undiluted shock. I cradle him effortlessly in my arms, reveling in the way his weight settles against me.

For a moment, silence.

Then Cassian howls with laughter, so loud and raucous that several nearby dancers pause to glance over. "Oh—oh my gods—" He doubles over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

Azriel, to his credit, doesn’t fight me. Doesn’t lash out. But his fingers tighten against my sleeves, his jaw tensing like he’s barely holding himself together.

"Put me down," he growls, but his voice—gods, his voice—comes out hoarse. Low, almost breathless.

Something sparks deep in my chest.

I grin, holding him tighter as I spin us in a slow, sweeping circle. "What’s wrong, Az? Afraid I’ll drop you?"

His golden eyes burn, frustration flashing across his face. Or is it something else?

"Careful," Cassian teases, still wheezing with laughter. "He might like it."

The words are meant as a joke, but the moment they leave Cassian’s mouth, realization slams into me.

Azriel’s face isn’t just flushed from embarrassment. His pupils—blown wide. His lips—parted slightly. His breath—short, uneven. His shadows—writhing, twitching, as if trying to conceal him. Conceal the faint, unmistakable shift in his scent.

Oh.

Oh.

My stomach flips.

Azriel—the infamous, unshakable Shadowsinger—is turned on right now. By this. By me.

Heat licks at my spine, slow and simmering.

My grin turns sharper, more deliberate. Predatory. "You’re awfully quiet, Shadowsinger," I murmur, shifting my hold just slightly—just enough to press my fingers into the firm planes of his back. "I thought you wanted me to put you down?"

A slow swallow. A barely perceptible clench of his jaw. And for the first time ever, I see him at a complete and utter loss for words.

Cassian is still laughing, oblivious to the sudden, charged tension crackling between us. "You broke him," he chokes out. "You actually broke Azriel."

I finally—finally—set him down, but I don’t step away.

Neither does he.

We’re close. Too close. Close enough that I can see the faint pink dusting his sharp cheekbones, the way his lashes lower slightly as his gaze flickers—just for a second—to my lips.

His hands are still on me, fingers pressing hard against my arms, grounding himself.

I can feel it—the unsteady rhythm of his breath, the hammering of his heart against his ribs.

His voice, when he finally speaks, is low. Rough. Barely more than a rasp.

"Not even close."

And just like that, the ball has suddenly become a lot more interesting.

Azriel doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

The ball continues around us, an elegant blur of silk and starlight. Laughter rings through the hall, the music swelling in perfect harmony with the glow of the chandeliers. Feyre and Rhys remain entwined at the center of it all, lost in their own world. But mine—our world—has shrunk to this moment. To him.

Azriel's fingers are still curled around the fabric of my jacket, his grip firm, grounding. But beneath that steady hold, there’s tension—coiled, restrained, a storm gathering on the horizon. His body is taut, every breath controlled, every shift calculated. Yet his golden eyes betray him. They are locked onto mine, sharp and searching, as if trying to decipher something I’m not saying aloud.

Cassian, still reveling in his own amusement, claps Azriel on the shoulder. “Well, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” He turns to me, grinning like I’ve just handed him a cask of the finest Illyrian whiskey. “And you! That was art, truly. You should’ve seen his face—” He dissolves into laughter again, practically wheezing. “Who knew our dear Shadowsinger liked being swept off his feet?”

Azriel’s grip tightens—barely, but I feel it.

His jaw ticks.

And for the briefest second, I think he might lunge at Cassian just to silence him. But instead, his gaze flickers back to mine, his expression smoothing into something unreadable. A mask. A carefully curated shield.

But I saw it.

The way his pupils dilated when I lifted him into my arms. The way his breath hitched, just slightly. The way his shadows curled and twisted, unsettled, reacting to me.

And I see it now—the way his gaze flickers, just for a fraction of a second, to my hands.

Cassian, oblivious to the weight of the moment, waves a hand between us. “You two gonna stand there and smolder at each other all night, or should I grab another bottle of wine so we can really get the confessions rolling?”

Azriel exhales sharply through his nose—a sound that might be a laugh, if it weren’t so quiet, so restrained. “No one’s making you stay, Cass.”

Cassian gapes at him, scandalized. “Are you kidding me?” He turns to me, eyes wide. “He’s defending you.”

I smirk. “Sounds like you’re jealous.”

Cassian scoffs so violently I think he might choke. “Jealous? Of that?” He gestures to Azriel, who merely lifts a brow, unreadable as ever. “Not in a thousand years.”

Azriel shifts—just enough that only I can hear when he murmurs, “I think he’s upset that I didn’t let him spin me first.”

A startled laugh bursts from my lips, loud and genuine, and Azriel’s gaze sharpens on my mouth like I’ve just handed him a secret.

Cassian groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “You know what? No. I refuse to be here for this.” He mutters something about needing an entire bottle of liquor before stalking off into the crowd.

Azriel doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

And yet, the air between us shifts—crackles—like the moment before a storm, thick with something unspoken.

His eyes—dark gold, molten, intense—stay locked onto mine, studying me with quiet curiosity, with heat, with something I can’t quite name. A slow pull begins in my chest, a gravitational force drawing me closer, daring me to test the boundaries of whatever this is.

The silence stretches between us, filled only by the distant echo of the ball, the rustle of skirts against marble, the low hum of conversation.

Then, finally, he speaks.

“You’re stronger than I thought.”

His voice is low, rough. A confession.

I tilt my head, letting a slow, knowing smile curl at my lips. “Disappointed?”

Azriel’s lips twitch—a flicker of amusement, but beneath it, something else. Something darker.

He steps closer. Just enough that I feel the warmth of him, the whisper of his shadows curling between us. Just enough that his wings shift, like he’s considering something.

“Not even close,” he murmurs.

And gods, I have never wanted anything more than I want to close that last inch between us.

His words settle over me like a brand, sinking beneath my skin, ink on parchment.

Not even close.

My breath hitches, my heart pounding in my chest as he watches me—truly watches me. The golden light from the chandeliers catches in his eyes, turning them molten, smoldering. His shadows coil around him, restless, shifting as if they can sense it too—the thickening air, the unspoken tension stretching between us like a taut wire ready to snap.

I could step back. Laugh it off. Pretend my pulse isn’t thundering in my veins, pretend his voice—low, dark, and laced with something dangerous—hasn’t set a slow-burning fire beneath my skin.

But I don’t.

Instead, I hold his gaze, steady and unflinching. “That so?” My voice is smooth, teasing, but there’s something beneath it—something sharper, something that dares him to come closer.

Azriel’s lips twitch, but the amusement there is a thin veil, stretched over something far more potent. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.” And I mean it.

Because it’s not surprise that coils in my stomach, twisting hot and insistent. It’s the way his chest brushes mine, the barest graze, yet enough to send my breath stuttering. It’s the way his wings shift behind him, his fingers twitching at his sides, like he’s waging a silent war within himself. Like he’s resisting the urge to reach for me.

Like he wants.

And gods help me, I want too.

I don’t think. I move.

One second, we’re standing on the edge of the dance floor, the world spinning around us in a blur of movement and music. The next, I’m gripping the front of his leathers, pulling him closer—closer—until there is nothing left between us but breath and heat and the razor-sharp edge of something inevitable.

His breath falters.

Just for a second. Just long enough for me to feel it—the hesitation, the war between restraint and need.

Then he moves.

His hand finds my waist, fingers curling into the fabric of my jacket, grounding me. His other hand ghosts up my arm, over my shoulder, until his fingertips brush my jaw. His touch is careful. Testing. Giving me a chance to pull away.

I don’t.

I tilt my head, leaning into him, and that’s all it takes.

Azriel snaps.

His lips crash into mine, and—fuck.

The kiss is fire and hunger and every ounce of tension that has built between us, spilling over like an overflowing dam. His hand tightens on my waist, dragging me into him, until I can feel every inch of him—solid, warm, burning. His fingers thread through my hair, tilting my head just so, deepening the kiss, stealing the breath from my lungs.

I let him.

I let him claim, let him take—because I am taking just as much. My hands slide up, grasping at his shoulders, his back, the cool leather beneath my fingers. His wings flare, a shudder rippling through him as I drag my nails down his spine.

And the sound he makes.

Low. Guttural. A growl against my lips that sends a sharp, delicious shock through me. My knees weaken, my body pressing against his, as if I could sink into him entirely and still not be close enough.

The world around us ceases to exist. The ballroom, the music, the murmured conversations—it all fades into nothing. There is only this. Only him. The scent of cedar and cold night air. The taste of him, heady and consuming. The feel of his hands on me, no longer hesitant, no longer holding back.

He wants.

And gods, I want too.

But then—

A sharp, exaggerated whistle.

Azriel wrenches back, his breath ragged, his golden eyes dark and wild. His grip on my waist tightens—like he doesn’t want to let go.

Neither do I.

Then I hear it.

“Well, shit,” Cassian crows. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

Laughter ripples through the ballroom. The realization slams into me—we’re not alone. We’re still standing at the edge of the dance floor, in full view of everyone.

Feyre, barely concealing her grin, lifts her brows in mock innocence. Rhys looks entirely too pleased with himself. And Cassian—smug bastard—is grinning like this is the best entertainment he’s had in centuries.

Azriel groans, tilting his head back as if praying for patience. His shadows slither around him, like they might shield him from prying eyes.

I smirk, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “Something wrong, Shadowsinger?”

Azriel exhales sharply, his fingers still digging into my waist, still possessive. He looks down at me, his gaze dipping to my lips—still swollen, still parted from his kiss.

Then, very quietly, very dangerously, he murmurs—

“Not even close.”

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

TAGS:

@lilah-asteria @maleficmuse @fanficscuziranout @angelbunny222

[kiame-sama]

Monster!Yan!Rollo: These disgusting monsters and their magic… They must all be purged!

Human!Darling *Exists*

Monster!Yan!Rollo: Am I seeing an Angel? Have I finally been blessed after all my suffering?

I feel like Rollo would not only be obsessed with Darling but would be pleased with the idea to breed with her to create ‘Pure’ offspring (He might even call her an ‘Angel’) though, he’ll no doubt call Malleus a ‘Devil’ for ‘tempting’ her with his magic (He feels utter disgust seeing such ‘unholy’ beings *Monsters* touch Darling)

Rollo will be absolutely obsessed the moment he realizes that there is a Human in a world of monsters. Not only will he see this fragile Human as an Angel, he will endeavor to win over his Angel by any means possible. A true follower of the example the Righteous Judge set forth, he sees Humanity and Humans as the best example of all living things.

In Rollo's mind, it doesn't matter who or what he needs to destroy in order to have his beloved by his side, it is worth it. Every little touch he is witness to- from anyone other than himself or Grim (as Grim is the only one he will canonically use dual magic with)- he will be adding their name to an ever growing list of those he needs to purge from the world. Malleus is already on his Most Hated list but will be written in several more times if he so much as looks at Rollo's beloved.

Any time Rollo enters his engulfed Inferno Nymph form the fires he creates will scorch everyone except for his darling. He would be inconsolable if he ever wound up accidentally harming his beloved and would even perform self-flagellation as a way to repent for his actions.

(Adult themes under the Cut)

When it comes to how desperate he is to breed this soft little Human, it is almost painful with how much he wants this little Human to be his. An absolute Zealot who worships the ground his darling walks upon. He hates himself for his overly sinful thoughts but also can't help feeling such an undeniable attraction and desire to taste and hold his darling however possible.

He will take any kindness from his beloved as a sign of affection and will devote himself to the cause of enchanting and enticing his darling into his bed. He can worry about the specifics later, he just needs something to tide himself over- be it unmentionables pilfered from his beloved's room, locks of hair, clothing his darling has worn, ect- and he is willing to go to extreme lengths to get these items.

[icycoldninja]

Don't leave me (Sephiroth x Reader angst)

Summary: Sephiroth's abandonment issues get the better of him in the middle of the night, so he goes to you, seeking comfort.

---‐------------------------------------------------------------‐--------------Sleep was never easy for Sephiroth thanks to the shadows, voices, and eerie bits of music that often plagued his thoughts. His mind, when allowed to wander, was often like a bitter, wintery blizzard, with everything swirling around in one, massive, confusing, mental storm. In order to keep the storm from growing too large, Sephiroth often kept busy throughout the day, focusing his mind on productive, stimulating activities such as exercising, scheming in his office, or tracking down Cloud and his accomplices.

However, at nighttime, when his brain was exhausted and craved sleep, such activities were very difficult to complete, therefore, he turned to more ordinary practices of keeping his mind occupied, which, unsurprisingly, did not work. Math problems were easy for him, as were crossword puzzles, spot the difference games, hidden object puzzles, etc. Sephiroth could work through an entire high-school math textbook in under 2 hours and say it was "child's play". This level of genius was purely astonishing, and also maddening, as his troubled thoughts, of which there were plenty, were also very disruptive.

Sighing, the man rolled over in his bed and draped his heavy, fluffy wing over his face like most humans would with a pillow. Why couldn't he sleep?! What would it take for his goddamn brain to shut off and let him rest already?! He was so tired, he could feel his eyeballs ache, but he just couldn't rest. Why?

The swirling storm in Sephiroth's head raged on; he closed his eyes and gripped his pillow tightly, trying desperately to remember what falling asleep felt like so he could ascertain whether or not he was making progress.

Several more minutes passed, and Sephiroth felt his brain fog over. He relaxed completely, willing his consciousness to slip into darkness and finally, finally, allow him to rest. He expected to plunge into fuzzy nothingness, but was instead met with a cold, dark, empty void.

All around him, he could hear laughter. Deranged laughter; laughter he'd heard almost all day of every day during his childhood. How he hated that laugh. Sephiroth turned around, only to find that same man standing before him in the familiar, pristine lab coat that he knew so well.

Hojo.

He was glad he couldn't speak; to utter his name aloud would have stained and corrupted his tongue. He glared at the man with contempt, wishing he would just leave already. He'd seen enough of that cruel bastard, he didn't need to see any more. Hojo smiled at him, his thin lips twisting into a devious smirk. Looking at it made Sephiroth's blood boil. Where was Masamune? Now would be a perfect time to use it.

Hojo's smile slowly faded, his expression turning from evil glee to disgust. He was regarding Sephiroth with disgust. How dare he?! Sephiroth watched as he turned around and walked away, shaking his head. Good riddance, he thought. He never wanted to look at scum like Hojo anyway. Turning around once again, Sephiroth came face to face with a being he never expected to see in a place like this. His own, beloved mother: Jenova.

Now Sephiroth was beginning to wish he could speak. He wanted to tell his mother how glad he was to see her here, how much he loved her, how thankful he was to her for his mere existence. He tried to reach out to touch her, but she recoiled, frowning in repulsion. What was wrong? What did he do to make her feel this way? Sephiroth was at a complete loss; all he ever did was for his mother, so why wasn't she embracing him? Why....why didn't she love him?

Panicking slightly, Sephiroth extended his hands in her direction once again, but Jenova stepped back. Shaking her head at him, just as Hojo had done, the entity whom Sephiroth had dedicated nearly everything he did to turned her back on him.

Now he was scared. The darkness was more than just that; it was an all-consuming maw mace of his own twisted, fearful thoughts. He didn't want this; he hated being alone like this. Why did everyone leave? What did he do wrong?

The stormy void closed in around Sephiroth, surrounding him in a cloud of fear. He didn't like this, he didn't want to sleep anymore, he wanted to wake up!

And he did, springing upright in a cold sweat, panting heavily. His wing flapped loudly against the bed, shedding feathers everywhere. He looked around and saw he was the only person in the room, this notion terrifying him even further. In a fit of frenzied hysteria, Sephiroth flung the covers aside and stumbled out of his room, not caring that he was bashing various body parts against the door trim. He ended up in the living room, where you were still awake, working on the couch. As soon as he appeared in the darkened room, you stopped what you were doing and turned to him, confused. His legs, clad only in pajama shorts, were visibly and violently trembling; an unusual occurrence.

"Seph?" You asked, standing up and walking towards him. "Are you alright?" He shook his head, nearly collapsing into your arms. You cradled him for a while, pressing soft kisses to his cheek, waiting patiently to see if he would explain the reasons for his distress. After a few moments, he began to sob.

"Don't leave me," He croaked, clinging onto you tightly. "Don't leave me too...." You sighed softly, before taking his head into your hands and kissing him.

"I'm not leaving you, ever," You told him, running your hands through his long, silky locks. "I'm gonna be here forever. Don't be afraid." Sephiroth nodded, then sniffled and wiped his tears away. "Come on," You said, taking him by the hand and leading him back to his bedroom. "I'll stay with you tonight."

Needless to say, Sephiroth fell asleep easier than ever that night; the comfort of your presence, and the knowledge that you would never leave him lulling him into peaceful slumber.

[thewolffairytaler]

Can you write smth about Thomas’s S/O liking the fact that he’s chubby or smth. Idk we need more chubby Tommy hgccdetuiijhvvcdfuiijjj

My handsome chubby, Tommy - oneshot | Thomas Hewitt x female reader

_____________________________

Author's note: I don't know which level of fluff you wanted it to be, so I made it extra fluffy. And by the way you wrote the last sentence, I'm gonna assume you love to snuggle with chubby folks, so there you go. I wrote Y/n snuggling Thomas.

Summary: Thomas was used to getting insulted, whether that be his face or just him in general. But this time, he couldn’t help but feel a victim's words hurt more than he'd like to admit. One that made him really question if what he assumed of his body was ugly too because of it. Could a certain female perhaps change his mind?

Thomas staggered up the wooden stairs, the damp chill of the cellar holding him tight, each creak a sharp reminder of the horrors below. The metallic tang of blood still followed him, clinging to his skin and clothing, but the air in the household was almost pure in contrast. The blood-splattered apron was just another piece of his ever-present armour, so he didn't bother taking it off. The linoleum was cold and slippery under his thick boots as he stumbled towards the loo. The sharp angles of his face were emphasised by the dark shadows created by the flickering fluorescent light buzzing overhead. When he turned on the tap, the water spewed out, finally clearing to a murky, lukewarm stream, the old pipes moaning in agony. He cleaned his hands frantically, but the harsh soap did little to remove the phantom feel of flesh and the lingering smell of iron.

He looked up at last. A horrible imitation of a man was reflected back from the shattered, grime-streaked mirror. The raw, damaged tissue below the Leatherface mask was visible as it was dumped on the chipped washbasin. Over the years, he had become nearly oblivious to his facial deformity, and the daily encounter in the mirror had become a sombre routine that he hardly noticed. Today, however, was different. He wasn't looking at the patchwork of skin grafted onto his face today. It was his body instead.

Like a swarm of enraged wasps, the words of the woman and her pals reverberated in his mind, piercing and stinging. He had already heard it all, the standard barrage of taunts from his victims in their pitiful, desperate attempts to negotiate for their lives. "Freak," "monster," and "abomination" were meaningless terms. He embodied all of those qualities and more. He had barely finished silencing this woman, but she had uttered something more. Something that had gnawed at a place he was unaware existed, sinking its claws into him. She had gasped, "Fat pig," her eyes wide with disgust and fear. "You're just a… a fat pig!"

He clenched his hands, the water splattering over the sink's edge as he recalled what she had said. He had never thought of himself as... fat. Of course he was large. At a height of 195 centimetres, he towered over nearly everyone. His muscular body was refined by years of hard work and the demanding nature of his occupation. His bulk had always been viewed as a weapon and an advantage. Most individuals were intimidated into submission by his intimidating size alone. He viewed it differently now, though, as he looked at his reflection. Beneath the soiled denim dungarees, he could see the paunch that rounded his tummy. He noticed how his cheeks blew out and how little loose his jawline was. He saw the layers of rough skin and muscle that had always seemed like strength now appearing as shapeless bulk.

Before, he had never given any thought to how he looked. Aesthetics were a luxury he couldn't always afford, and survival came first. When he had the opportunity, he ate everything he could. He put a lot of effort into his work, and his physique was only a tool. However, the woman's remarks had sown a seed of uncertainty and self-consciousness that was now starting to grow in the rich soil of his self-imposed seclusion. Was he really a "fat pig" after all? Was he only that? Was that how he was perceived? He turned away from the mirror, disgusted. He couldn't dwell on this. He had work to do. Useless body parts to dispose of.

Just then, a familiar woman had moved the door, creaking it open, Y/n stepped in, a basket overflowing with freshly laundered clothes cradled in her arms. Y/n had unknowingly become a beacon of warmth and light in the everlasting grey world he existed in. She never questioned his activities. She simply accepted her situation, and the man she had slowly started to know, she was well aware of the fact that running away wasn't an option. Where would she even go? With what kind of functioning vehicle? And on foot is just an instant death sentence, either by the summer heat or the family themselves.

"Hi Thomas, I just finished doing the laundry," she chirped, her voice a welcome contrast to the silence that usually permeated the farmhouse when Hoyt or Luda Mae wasn't around. She walked towards him, her socked feet padding softly on the bathroom floor. "I even got that stain out of your favourite apron. There is some fadedness to the old ones, not much I could I'm afraid. But otherwise, they are as good as new." She said it in a reassuring way, oblivious to his internal turmoil.

He grunted in response, unable to meet her gaze. He felt a sudden, unfamiliar wave of shame wash over him. He didn't want her to see him like this, consumed by self-doubt and plagued by the insults of a dead woman. Y/n reached him and began to sort through the clothes in her basket. She pulled out a faded, blue work shirt and held it up to him. "Here, try this on. It's nice and clean."

He took the shirt from her numbly, his eyes still fixed on the floor. He didn't move to put it on. Noticing his unusual silence, he finally looked up at him, her casual manner faltering. "Thomas? What's wrong? You look... sad." Her words were like a physical blow. He hadn't realised his inner turmoil was so visible. He had always prided himself on his ability to mask his emotions and to present a blank, unreadable face to the world.

He finally looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion and distress that he couldn't articulate. How could he explain to her what he was feeling? How could he tell her that the words of a dying woman had managed to wound him more deeply than any physical blow ever could?

Y/n, sensing his distress, dropped the clothes basket and stepped closer to him. She reached out and gently touched his arm, her hand small and warm against his rough skin. "Thomas, talk to me. What's bothering you?" He stiffened at that as he looked down at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed the words. His first instinct was to snap back, to push her grip away from him. But then he saw the look in your eyes, the worry and concern, and he knew that he couldn't do that. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

"It's nothing," he didn't explicitly say it, but the way he carried himself and hinted at that through body language pretty much told her what he thought. "Are you sure, Tommy? You knew you could always talk to me for anything." Thomas's heart skipped a beat at the nickname. He had never been called "Tommy" by Y/n before. Usually, it was just his name or Hewitt as she was taught to call him by Hoyt. The man didn't like them getting too close after all, even though it was Thomas who wanted to keep her. He thought it was probably because she was willing to be vulnerable with him for once. It was sweet in a way as his expression softened slightly. He knew that he could trust her, that Y/n would always be there for him. But he was still hesitant to open up to her about his troubles.

He shoock his head a bit as if saying, "I know." To then fidgeting with his fingers, anathor way of most likely responding with; "But this...it's just personal." Her gaze was on him in silence for a few seconds before she broke the tension, "is it your appearance again?" He let out a low growl, a mix of frustration and annoyance. Thomas hated when she brought up his appearance. To be fair, it was with everyone. It was a sensitive topic for him, and he didn't like it when others pointed it out. He didn't need to say it, cause his eyes did it for him, they were darkening. A scary quiet confrontation.

She flinched a bit at first, looking down to her socks in a timid state. "S-Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just... I don't think it's bad..." Thomas felt a pang of guilt. He hated making her feel uncomfortable, especially because of him. He knew that he was a lot to handle, and he couldn't help but feel defensive when it wasn't a family member. "But I mean it, you know? It's not that bad how you make it out to be." He was surprised by those words, not only because he wasn't used to hearing Y/n defend him like that, but also because it was the first time anybody mentioned it in a positive light. He looked down at her, his eyes searching her face for any sign of deception. "Really, Thomas, it's true! I uh... I like your um... chubbyness." The roseyness of her skin reached up to her ear tips as she mumbled the last part and refused to look at him.

His eyes widened at that unexpected compliment. He wasn't expecting her to say that, and the redness of Y/n's cheeks only made him more flustered. He lifted his hand and gently tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him. She hesitated for a moment, yet that did not stop her from eventually humming in confrimation. To then instantly hug him as she buried her face in his stomach. Nuzzling her face into it in embarrassment, not caring about the dried blood apron he was still wearing. "Face or body, don't matter... I like your appearance. Don't need masks or better chlothes to show it."

Thomas felt his heart skip a beat at her words once more. He felt a mix of surprise, relief, and something else he couldn't quite name. He held her tighter, his grip almost possessive. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken emotions hanging between the two of them. He wanted to believe her, but he wanted to believe that she really didn't care about his appearance. But he couldn't shake off the doubts that had been plaguing him for years. She raised her head up to him, still resting against his stomach as she reassured him once more. Somehow, knowing he needed, or rather CRAVED a sort of affection. One that wasn't bound by family or friends. "I like my Tommy just the way he is."

His breath was caught in his throat. The intensity in her eyes, the sincerity in her words, made his heart ache. It was a simple but powerful statement. It was as if she was breaking down the walls he had built around himself over the years, exposing his vulnerable heart. Thomas brought his hand up to cup her face, his thumb gently tracing the curve of Y/n's cheek. She didn't understand it at first, but the way he tapped her cheek made her think he wanted to hear the sentence again: "I like my Tommy just the way he is."

He still smiled a bit at that, but it wasn't exactly what he wanted as he shook his head at her. It slowly dawned on her; "Tommy? You just want me to call you Tommy?" He simply nodded, Thomas let out a small huff of amusement. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, gently ruffling Y/n's hair. He pulled her closer to him, holding her tightly against his chest. He felt a strange sense of peace and contentment in this moment, holding her in his arms. "Okay, Tommy, I can do that." She wrapped her arms around his neck as she snuggled against the left side of his head.

Thomas closed his eyes, savouring the feeling as he let out a contented sigh, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging wash over him. He tilted his head slightly, nuzzling against her hair, inhaling the scent of the shorter woman. He felt like he could stay like this forever, just holding her in his arms and feeling her warmth against him. Perhaps it wasn't so bad being chubby. If Y/n can like a big man like him, who's to say he is ugly?

[kasagia]

Can't catch me now... pt. 2

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling xgrisha! reader Summary: The Hunger Games in Ravka. 12 districts. 12 tributes. 12 mentors. 11 young people die every year. 1 winner. Aleksander was a mentor to many. But only your face will haunt him for centuries. Inspired by: The Hunger Games. I changed the world of both of them a bit. Word Count: 4,4 k Taglist: @flostvs1508 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @aoi-targaryen @summersummoner-pat @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi @msblacklupin Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist PART 1 ~•♤♤♤•~

"You look like death. Have you even slept an hour?" You shrug at Genya's question. The woman sighs and works on your face to make you presentable. "The general was furious. He's a good man, despite everything they say about him. You have to understand that... he didn't expect this turn of events, and his stoic attitude was violated. I swear, this is the second time I've seen him lose his cool. And I've been here since I was a child."

"When was the first time?" You ask curiously, not believing her for a moment. You couldn't trust anyone here. You could only count on yourself and no one else. You missed Alina a lot.

"I will tell you this with a complete twist. Anyway, if someone asks, you didn't know it from me. 40 years ago, in the Hunger Games, the General was... asked to be a mentor. Her name was Luda. She was brave and beautiful, with a good heart and a pure soul. She was a healer in her village. She volunteered. In exchange for her younger sister."

"And what happened? He scared her with his shadows because she was a vegetarian and didn't want to eat meat to get stronger?" You mock, as she is making final amendments to your look.

"She died." An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Genya was blindly combing your hair, obviously thinking about her. You could see from the look in her eyes that she must have been especially close to this tribute. "She was... close to the general. He had been mourning her death for a very long time. And I don't want to spread rumours, but the tribute who killed her and won the Hunger Games was found hanging in the forest near his home village. His family was soon convicted of conspiring against the crown and hanged in a more… spectacular way."

"I feel like you're not telling me this just to satisfy my curiosity." You guess as she finally pulls away from you.

You don't know what's worse, when she fixes your face with her strange power or when she looks at you intently, looking for something else to improve your appearance. You weren't used to caring THAT much about yourself. Because who would want to look at an orphan?

"I just want to warn you that… our choices don't necessarily affect only us." You roll your eyes at her attempt at intimidation. Of course. He couldn't make you do anything himself, so he sent his minions to convince you. Quite pathetic, like for the terrible Darkling, who everyone feared.

"I am an orphan. There's nothing he can take from me. I... I have nothing left to lose or to care about..." You say it quietly, rubbing your wrist with your hand. You try hard not to think about Alina and Mal. Your only family... all you have left after those you lost.

"And your life?"

"We're all going to die someday, Genya." Your soft whisper seals the uncomfortable silence.

You think about your parents and siblings—everyone you lost—and the life you could have had that fate ripped from you before you learned how to fight for yourself. You lost everything as a child. There's nothing left for you. At least nothing good.

"Here. You look amazing. There is only one thing missing." She says this with a smile and takes out a long, black coat with black and white embroidery from the closet. It's a kefta. A fucking kefta.

"What the hell is that?" You ask angrily, standing up from your chair and looking at the piece of clothing in utter disgust.

"The general ordered it especially for you. You are a Grisha. You are one of us, and you should present yourself as such." She says this and puts the kefta on the chair.

You walk up to it and run your hand over the material. You expected something rough—just like the general's character—and uncomfortable to wear, since the keftas protected Grisha from every blade and bullet, but this... was nothing like armor. It was soft and cozy. Like velvet. Nothing you may have experienced in your district.

"Black? Isn't that his colour?" You ask, trying to reassure yourself of how terrible this damn thing is.

"Merzost is closely associated with the Darkling bloodline in our culture, since he used it to create the fold. Consider it a… coincidental coincidence." You snort when you hear her explanation. If anything, it was a sign of belonging. The general's new toy. Freak of nature. What a pity he'll lose you before he can use you for the good of his fucking Grisha.

"Other people won't see it like that. You know this, so stop lying to me." The redhead sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"Just put it on. People need to know that the king broke his word to Grisha to force you to participate in the Hunger Games, breaking part of the covenant between us."

"This isn't my war to fight, Genya. Besides, I'm going to die in games anyway, so what's the difference?" Your response only enraged her more.

She didn't raise her voice, and you wouldn't have recognized her emotions unless you saw her hands tremble slightly before she placed them behind her back. You wonder how many times she has had to hide her true feelings.

"You have Merzost in your veins, the most powerful force you can draw from. Do you really want to give it all up? Lose the opportunity you have in front of you? Do you know how many of us have been waiting for you?" She asks with resentment in her voice, but you really don't want to argue with her.

You know it doesn't make sense because they are all here believing in some stupid children's story, a fairy tale that made you a savior in their eyes, and now, since you have finally arrived, you are supposed to fly around and pretend to be a hero you know you are not. As if you could do anything you wanted.

"I was dead long before I was chosen for The Hunger Games. Year after year I was only prolongs the inevitable. I am sorry, but that's the truth. Don't get your hopes up."

"I see that my favourite suicide is in good shape today." Your discussion is interrupted by the appearance of the Darkling. You sigh, rolling your eyes at him. You seriously considered throwing yourself at the spear of one of those ancient armored knights that decorated the halls of the palace. At least you wouldn't have to endure his presence any longer. "Are you rested? Fed?"

"Don't you have something else to do instead of keeping an eye on me? Or send your minions to do it for you? This is getting tiring and irritating." Genya gives you an offended look. She huffs, leaving the chambers as she gets a nod from the Darkling.

"I am your mentor. It's my duty to take care of you." He says, clasping his hands behind him once you're left alone. He looks at you carefully and takes a step towards you. This time, you don't step back but stare at him defiantly.

"Then it is with great pleasure that I would like to relieve you of this obligation." Your words only make him chuckle. He straightens a piece of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. His fingertips brush against your cheek, making you shiver. However, you do nothing to let him know how much his proximity bothers you.

"Oh, you won't make it. Only a king can do this. Do you like your kefta?" He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head towards the offending fabric still hanging on the chair.

"It looks like a floor rag." You say, not hiding your disgust. He chuckles darkly again. He takes the kefta in his hands and unfolds it, pretending to look at it carefully as he walks over to you again.

"Then Karamzin must be richer than I thought, if this is what your floor rags look like. Especially the orphanage."

"Have you been rummaging through my files? What for?" You ask in shock, trying to mask your fear. If he finds out about Alina and Mal… you don't want to have any more deaths on your conscience.

"Better put it on if you don't want to find out very soon." You decide to follow your better judgement instead of your pride and turn your back on him, letting him put on the hideous kefta. Surprisingly, the material hugs you perfectly. You feel warm and soft—the complete opposite of what you know. You gasp in shock as he reaches for his belt and pulls you towards him. You bump into his chest as he tightens the belt around your waist. "Good girl. Now, put your hand in the crook of my arm and smile nicely, and everything will turn out great today. And if you keep behaving as a good girl, you'll get dessert tonight."

"I'd rather gouge out my eyes and sew my mouth shut than be an obedient little doll that you can dress however you want and show everyone."

"I'd reconsider it if I were you. The chefs baked a chocolate cake today. With chocolate-covered cherries on top. Have you ever had a chance to eat something like it?" He smiles, almost mischievously, as he stands next to you, still waiting for you to follow his instructions.

"Son of a bitch." You mutter under your breath and he laughs. He must have been drunk. He couldn't be in such a good mood. Not him.

"That's actually very ture, my little wellspring." He says and leads you to a slaughter worse than the Hunger Games... he leads you to a party for the Games. Among the nobility. You shudder just thinking about this nightmare (not because he puts his bigger hand on yours).

"You have a very beautiful dress!" You force a fake smile on your lips when a noblewoman compliments you.

"Thank you." You say, sipping your glass of wine. The only good thing that happened to you at the party was alcohol. And even then, the Darkling tried to limit you to this one pleasure, making sure that you didn't drink too much.

Your head hurt from all the nonsense conversations with all these people who were only famous for being born into rich families. Terrible. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice several tributes also struggling to maintain their composure. At least you weren't the only one.

However, after you turned out to be Grisha, the rest of the tributes tended to avoid you. You knew from the beginning that you wouldn't have any friends among them, but it would be nice to have one friendly soul in this terrible place.

"I didn't think the people of District 12 would fit into our community so well, but you, darling, look absolutely perfect." You barely stop yourself from throwing the glass you're holding at her. Instead, you tighten your grip on him and smile politely at her, gritting your teeth in anger.

"I'm glad I can surprise you."

Fortunately, you don't have to talk to her anymore. The general approaches you quickly, noticing your tenseness, and with his natural grace, he places his hand on your waist, starting a conversation with a woman who turns out to be a close friend of the queen. Oops. It's better that he came to you, because you wouldn't apologise if you accidentally allowed Merzost to break free and turn her into a volcra.

As you stand next to them, as larger crowds of women begin to gather around you, you realize a terrible truth. The Darkling was your only support here. Him and Genya.

You flinch as he suddenly tightens his grip on your waist and guides you away from the group of noblewomen, who giggle as you both walk away. You allow yourself to roll your eyes at them.

"What the hell was that?" He asks you angrily, setting your glass down on the table. You automatically reach for it again, but he grabs your hand before you can take it and keeps it away from the alcohol.

"I was just about to ask you the same fucking thing." You respond in a defiant tone, glaring daggers at him. Your stomach was starting to growl, and the bastard wouldn't let you touch anything to eat until you fulfilled your end of the bargain and behaved yourself. As you and he can see, you didn't do very well.

"Don't grimace around them as if they were pouring salt into your open wounds." He says it angrily and lets go of your hand. He reaches for something from the buffet. You freeze when he hands you a tiny plate with some fruit. You lick your lips, staring at your food for a moment before looking back at him. "It's for avoiding causing a drama. Partly. Try harder, and I'll let you eat whatever you want."

"But that's what they do! Do you have any idea what it's like to have to stand there smiling and nodding your head while these snobs from the capital talk about how your people and the city are octopus and beneath them?!" You hiss so only he can hear it, but you take the plate of food from him anyway. God knows when you'll get something again.

"I'm Grisha. I know exactly what you are going through." You would laugh at him mockingly if you didn't have a mouth full of food. He looks at you disgusted, and you quickly get the hint and eat smaller portions.

"Please. You've been doing fine since the Hunger Games. At least your people don't have to die every year to the delight of a bunch of sadistic idiots with stuffed bras and fake hair." Your comment makes him bite his lip, but he still can't help but smile a little. Few people could make him laugh and laugh at the same time. As you can see, Merzost wasn't the only special thing about you.

However, your hostile look reminds him that you are in the middle of an argument, and it is his turn to present his argument. God, how much work he had to do with you. You will kill him before he can get you safely through the Hunger Games.

"But years ago we were hunted by all of you, and somehow I don't spit on every Ravkan and kill them for it."

"Because you didn't experience it. If you were there, you would act differently." You sound confident. He shakes his head, wondering how you would react to the truth. Although now he seems to be more interested in food than in anything he has to say. He had to finally feed you. His Merzost Holder couldn't go hungry. It's enough that you experienced hunger and poverty in District 12.

"You think?" He asks, setting your empty plate on the table and offering his hand to you. You look at him for a moment, confused by the sudden… change in his attitude.

"General?"

"You can dance, can't you?" He asks, taking your hand, and without waiting for your response, he leads you to the dance floor. The rest of the mentors have no such idea, so you both are closely watched by all the participants in the ball.

"A little." You say shyly, something he's experiencing from you for the first time. He smiles fondly at you, which, of course, you don't see, too embarrassed to look at anything other than your shoes. But others see. The general's small smile does not go unnoticed by his closest soldiers.

"I guess I have to work with that." He says this and gently lifts your chin to look at him. He places a hand on your waist, and the other holds yours in an iron, steady grip. "Eyes on me. Put your hand on my shoulder and try not to fall. Keep up with me, and everything will be fine."

All you can do is trust him, which you do with surprising ease for him. Somehow, he can't take his eyes off you. You looked gorgeous in the black kefta, especially with his symbol embroidered on the back—a little thing you didn't need to know yet. And so, looking at you, Aleksander can't help but wonder what it would be like if he met you under different circumstances. Maybe if he were younger, less experienced... if his mother's words didn't ring so loudly in his head every time he started to feel something akin to tenderness towards you. Maybe if he hadn't lost so many...

Meanwhile, you try to fight the strange feeling he gives you every time his skin touches yours. You feel a strange pull, a calling, and you realise how your power, the same one you tried to ignore and forget for so many years, comes to life under his touch. You hated it. And him. For trying to break down the walls that you put up for so long and so hard. For trying to make you the Grisha you hated. For making it so easy for you to sink into the arms of the Black Heretic ancestor.

And at the same time… it was nice to feel important for a change… even if just for a moment.

So you dance with him, agreeing to this little moment of truce between you two. Deciding that you would look for answers later as to why you felt so attached to him. And why every time he touched you you felt so… powerful.

"That was awful." You groan as you finally return to your chambers, with the Darkling by your side, of course.

He hasn't left you since that dance. He was always somewhere next to you as you talked with the nobility. You have gained several sponsors and the favour of important people in Os Alta. The Darkling was pleased. And you're exhausted.

"And wonderful. You did great, much better than I expected. The servants should bring our dinner soon." He says, sitting next to you on the couch, watching as you take off your kefta and throw it in the corner of the room. He bites his lip, deciding not to comment. He already expected a lot from you today. The manners lesson could have been taught another time.

"Our?" You ask surprised, not expecting him to stay longer than necessary.

"Do you mind?"

"Yes." You answer honestly and straight away, to which he just laughs.

"I wish I cared." He replies with a mischievous smile. You roll your eyes as you take off your shoes and try to pick any pins out of your hair. Genya seemed to enjoy tormenting you. There were definitely too many of them. "So a healer? Really?" He asks, referring to your last conversation. Someone asked you what you wanted to do before you got into The Hunger Games. You decided to answer truthfully once. Of course, you were laughed off and called a sweet, naive soul willing to help. You wanted to vomit on their polished, gold-plated shoes.

"Why not?" You ask angrily. He raises his hands defensively with a smirk, seeing how fed up you are with everything that happened today.

"It's rather… a thankless profession among the common people. Healers usually come to them when they are dying. Relieve suffering. They are the harbinger of death, almost like a reaper. Usually, they are not coming to actually extend their lives."

"So you must have had similar experiences." You scoff, making him think about it. This wasn't what you expected. You were expecting a rather harsh answer. Not a pensive, almost sad look. For a moment, you think that maybe he, too, could just be human. You shake your head. No. He was just one of them. He couldn't have any... human feelings or know the real pain.

"Painful but true. They don't get excited when they see me either." His whisper should make you change the subject, but after the terrible day he put you through, all you want to do is stick a pin in him where it hurts the most.

"I wonder why..." You start, but he cuts you off before you can finish.

"Don't mock. You were behaving so nicely. I prefer you to smile than spit acid."

"I wish I cared." You repeat his words from a while ago, trying to imitate his tone of voice. He rolls his eyes at you, but somehow you both do nothing more than make snide comments to each other. Taking advantage of the relatively quiet moment between you, you decide to ask him honestly. "What do you want from me?"

"To win." He replies simply, playing with the ring on his finger. He rolls it over on his finger, resting his chin on his hand as he looks at you intently. A shiver runs through you as the dark depths of his eyes meet yours. Undeterred by his short, evasive answer, you continue, knowing that this is your only chance to get something from him.

"And then what? You won't let me go back to my district." You say, knowing perfectly well that this is not an option for you. IF you win.

"You are right. You will live here. With Grisha. The people you belong to." You frown, dissatisfied with his answer. You weren't Grisha. You will never be. No matter how much he pushes and forces you to become one of them.

"Unless I die, which is very probably since I am not going to kill anyone on the arena." You remind him. He doesn't seem to take your promise seriously. You don't convince him. He will see for himself in the arena how serious you are about your decision.

"You won't die." He says it firmly, as if it were an obvious fact.

"How can you..."

"YOU WON'T!" He yells at you, standing up. You sit stoically in the same position as before, watching as the shadows in the corner of the room gather around him. He sighs and waves them away. "I've been waiting a long time for you, Y/N. You are the one of your kind and even more precious than a Sun Summoner. I won't see your dead body. No matter how much you want it."

"Leave." You say, too tired to argue with him, to tell him that you have no intention of being an obedient tool in his hands, that you won't be a weapon that he can use.

"That's my palace." Furious at his words, you get up to face him. You look at each other with pure hatred.

You are too tired to notice that a dark mass is beginning to form around your arms. But Aleksander sees it. And he watches with fascination as you let your powers slip through. Out of curiosity, he summons his shadows behind you. Just a small black cloud. However, for some reason, under the influence of your powers, the room is plunged into complete darkness. He looks at you in shock, realising that you had unknowingly empowered him by providing him with energy from Merzost. Unbelievable.

"And my room for a while, so prove to me you can sometimes be the nobel man everyone told me you are and leave me alone." You whisper; all you can see in the dark surrounding you are its irises, analysing you with undisguised fascination and admiration.

If only you trained, if you learned to control what was inside you... Aleksander wouldn't have to take anyone into account; he could just declare himself tsar, threatening the Ravkans to expand the fold if they didn't recognise Grisha's greatness. All he needed was you.

"As you wish." He says, deciding to let you win this fight. He takes your hand and holds it tight as he calls his shadows back to him. They come back in a second. One blink, and the darkness in the room disappears. Impossible. Even his mother didn't have that much control in her glory days. He wondered if you would have this effect only on him or on other Grisha as well. But no. He won't share this secret with anyone. Not yet. For now, you were only his little wellspring of power. "Tomorrow is the first day of your training. 7 A.M. Don't be late, or I will drag you out of your bed by myself." He says, letting go of your hand and walking towards the exit, trying hard not to steal glances at you. He would have to look into his grandfather's journals and old books. You were a real mystery. And he was just waiting to see what more you could do besides complete him perfectly.

"Go to hell." You mutter under your breath, rubbing the hand that was in his iron grip a few moments ago. You felt that stupid electric thrill again. It definitely had to have something to do with your strange connection. Darkling and Merzost Holder. You had to find out more about it. Maybe you need to start being nice to Genya after all...

"Excuse me?" He asks, turning around in the doorway when he hears the insult from you.

"Sleep well." You reply with a sweet, cynical smile. He shakes his head in amusement and decides to ignore your behavior. He'll give you a hard time at training tomorrow. See how far your skills range. With a little training, who knows... maybe you'll be able to bring people back from the dead.

Involuntarily, his thoughts turn to Luda. If he had you by his side earlier… no. He couldn't think about her. He knows that history would have turned out the same way. Because even if you had revealed yourself to him earlier, he would have been too busy with you to see anyone else.

Aleksander promises himself that he will do everything to prevent you from becoming his second Luda. He had enough ghosts of his past tormenting him at night. And you can't become another one of them. If necessary, I will kill these tributes myself. He will find a way. He always did.

Unless someone dares to interfere with his plans... just like last time. That's why, immediately after leaving your chambers, he goes to the only person he knows who will be able to protect you from his greatest enemy.

"Ulla?! Sister?! I have an offer you can't refuse!" He calls from the shore of the lake in the gardens of Little Palace.

[ilylmwwifys]

—𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐘!

⏳,, Fluff , not proofread

. 🕰 ; Reader became a lil too drunk.. What would the four-eyed Madl do?

3:12 am.

You checked the clock as you took the remaining time to fix yourself, recently— a Madl invited you to have a drink with him.

It was your first time drinking and trying new things. The thought of drinking made you excited—you were in the legal age to drink after all. Either way, you knew he can watch out for you incase something might go wrong.

Yet, you pondered on why would he invite you to drink late? Is it necessary to drink at exactly 3:30 a.m? You paid no attention to it nevertheless.

You focused on getting yourself ready with the extra time you had.

...

3:25 a.m

You stood infront of the bar. It was lively and adorned with lights. However, there were only few people which you didn't mind it and was actually more than grateful.

You opened the door as you saw the Madl who was waiting for you. You smiled before approaching the guy who was reading a book to pass time.

"Yahoo~" you exclaimed gaining the attention of the man. You took a seat beside him as the bartender showed up.

"Greetings, [L/N]" he greeted you. You chuckled before replying "No need to be so formal, Orter. First name is fine."

"Your acting like we have just met." you proceed with a smile. "Now.." you placed your index finger below your chin "Since you're experienced at drinking.. What would you suggest for a newbie like me~?"

Orter took a moment before thinking. "I don't know your tolerance but,"

"Black and Tan." he proceed. "Is that so?" you replied before looking at the bartender. Orter ordered his drink as he waited for your order.

"Balkan 176 Vodka."

You smiled, Orter slightly widened his eyes. Sure, you were not experience at drinking. However, you knew some things.

Orter looked at you with a stoic face as the bartender went to make both of your drinks. "Going with one of the strongest?" he uttered as you giggled "This is just pure out of fun."

"Hm." he read the book infront of him "You're new on this one, I suggest you not to rush things." He stated not bothering to take a glance of you as he continued to read.

You looked at him before chuckling "What? Are you worried about me?~" you teased him which he looked at you showing disgust.

He shrugged it off as he continued reading—patiently waiting for his drink.

Finally, both of your drinks arrived. Nothing would go wrong on trying new things, right?

Oh, he was starting to regret this. "Another one please~!" you exclaimed as you lightly laughed. You completed 3 drinks already, Orter watched you slightly messy appearance caused by the alcohol.

The bartender handed another Vodka as you grabbed and chugged it down completely "Y/N." Orter spoke with slight concern on his tone which you failed to notice. "Hm-?"

Orter watched you finish your fourth drink already. After finishing your fifth one—you placed your head on the table with red tint all over your cheeks.

The four-eyed man sighed looking at your disheveled state "M' so tipsy.." you muttered as you burried your face on the table "I told you to take it slow."

He knows that you aren't tipsy but completely drunked. Your alcohol tolerance was surprisingly lower than he expected. Unlike him, he's tolerance for alcohol is high.

"Anothe—" Before you could even proceed on requesting another one, the man beside you stopped you. "No, she doesn't want another." he stated looking at the bartender which the bartender laughed looking at the dynamic you both have.

"—huh.. Why not.." You pouted locking eyes with Orter. "It's 6. You've been drinking for 3 hours, Y/N." he stated firmly as he stood up.

"Let's go." he added as he paid the drinks for the both of you "But— im not..done yet.." you stood up—however you were quick to fall because of dizziness.

Luckily, Orter was able to catch you before you could even fall "Ah.." You mumbled as he placed his hands on your waist—hugging your waist with his hand.

" 'm bad.." You shuffled your self trying to find balance but seems like luck wasn't on your side either when you saw floating black dots on your vision.

.. That's where you lost your conscious.

"Y/n?" Orter asked but received nothing from you. That's when he made the conclusion of you passing out. He sighed as he carried your passed out body on his car.

He placed you gently in the passenger seat. He took of his coat as he placed around your body.

...

He doesn't know where you live.

He got forced on letting you stay on his house. He's never inviting you to drink again—you were simply too reckless.

. [📜] lil skit... Got bored on finishing this lmao😞 more mashle contents on my tt (mostly just hc & idk) @lmwwifys - TT. ANYWAY I love this man

[drippingviolets3]

Here’s a hot take for the helluva boss fandom (please don’t hurt me—)

I didn’t like episode 11: Mastermind.

Allow me to explain

I feel like the entire episode was just so….forced? For lack of a better term, I’ll say forced. When I saw clips of it I was so so SO excited to see all the sins, the Goetia, Vassago, and the music (mostly Vassago though). But then the episode dropped and it just…didn’t live up to the hype I guess.

Andrealphus’ plan was stupid from the beginning. He tried to frame Blitzø as a 🍇-ist and attempted murderer against Stolas, a Goetia.

Imps in hell are known for being weak, small, MAGICLESS. In the second episode of season one we can see that Stolas is easily capable of defeating imps on his own because they can do little against his magic. Andrealphus was pushing this narrative that Blitzø acted as an aggressor, overpowered Stolas, and then tried to get rid of him.

The first red flag, which Vassago pointed out himself, was that they didn’t invite Stolas to the trial. The excuse was flimsy as best, claiming they “didn’t want to hurt Stolas” by forcing him to see his abuser, but that is literally the first rule of court. The victim, assuming they’re alive, needs to be there to testify and tell their side of the story. Satan didn’t see anything wrong with this somehow, allowing himself to be fooled even though he claims to be the “mastermind” and how he is the law and blah blah blah. The irony isn’t lost on me, but it’s just so stupid to watch.

Second of all, shouldn’t Stolas’ appearance to intervene say something? Maybe make a few heads turn? Have Satan ask “Is there more to this than they’re letting on?” Stolas didn’t need to claim to be the mastermind, he just had to give his statement and say that HE was the one who brought Blitzø to bed, and they both consented. Their affair isn’t a well kept secret, Stella bitches about it whenever she can in front of witnesses, Stolas openly flirts with Blitzø, the entirety of episode 7 was of word getting out that Stolas was sleeping with an imp even though he was married with a kid! Yeah there would be degradation, looks of disgust, visible judgement, but that would be an easy way for Stolas to clear up Blitzø’s name without slandering his own!

And finally, this isn’t necessarily a complaint but a personal opinion….The song was a flop for me.

The song is another issue though. Stolas didn’t need to claim to be the mastermind, and when he did claim to be it, he didn’t explain WHY he “did” what he did. He didn’t give any motive, or excuse, he just said “Oh yeah I made that imp do all that shit hahaha y’all really thought you were onto something” and then followed up with nothing except the one scene that made me want to actually like the song. The scene where Stolas is having an internal battle because he DOES regret stepping in to save Blitzø because Blitzø hurt him, but at the same time he CAN NOT STOP LOVING HIM ANYWAY. Blitzø realizing that he also loved Stolas but saying he realized it too late, and the both of them realizing they don’t want to be without the other, it made my heart CRY.

Aaaaaand then Satan butted in and claimed he was a mastermind too and that their plans looked “oh so small” compared to his. Again, the irony isn’t lost on me, it’s funny as fuck, but the problem is that Satan was supposed to be a big reveal. He was a major figure of power who was meant to be treated seriously, like an actual threat, like, I don’t know, A MASTERMIND?? But he just came off so arrogant and stupid that it physically hurt to watch instead because of the pure cringe.

This episode was supposed to show the power imbalance between imps and demon royalty, I know. But the final product doesn’t necessarily show me a society that’s biased towards the more powerful, but a society that has a leader who is a liar and a complete and utter fucking moron. Satan is so painfully stupid for falling for such an obvious ploy that he deserves his own dunce cap and and a chair in the corner of the courtroom.

Of course there are aspects that I DO like. Andrealphus’ subtle manipulation towards Stella for one, saying that she’s “lucky she’s hot” not to flirt with her, but to remind her that’s all she is (though it is funny to watch her eat it up like he’s actually complimenting her). Vassago stole the episode in my opinion, and I was excited to see that Blitzø made an impact on imp society by standing up for himself in court against demon royalty AND Satan himself. Not to mention we FINALLY got to see Luna be vulnerable with Blitzø and tell him that she loved him!

In those aspects, the episode was great, and it did a good job showing how oppressed imps are in comparison to other inhabitants of hell. But for the most part? I just couldn’t bring myself to enjoy the episode. It felt like there were too many glaring plot holes in the way.

If you feel like I missed a point or if you have anything to add, please let me know in a civilized way. I’d rather not let my blog or this post become breeding grounds for more toxicity within the fandom 😅

[deerabigailhobbs]

Snow white Hannibal AU

Abigail as Snow White, who's been staying with her guardian, the evil King Hannibal, for half of her 18 years of life now. He's become obsessed with her, though not in a doting way, in a jealous way. He sees how the brave Huntsman Will looks at her, eyes full of fatherly adoration as he gives her the finest furs and pelts from his last trip. She doesn't even seem to notice his presence half the time, the ungrateful girl.

He goes to his trusted mirror, eyes piercing the glass as he asks: "Who does he love most of all?" And in the reflection is no longer the cold gaze of himself, but blue doe eyes of the young girl outside.

He won't stand for it. Something must be done about the girl.

And so one evening, he fetches for his dear Will, whose eyes are dark and bagged. He must be having those nightmares again.

Hannibal tells Will his plans for him. "I want you to take young Abigail out into the woods. I want you to take your best knife and slit her throat. All I need as evidence is her heart."

As expected, Will's tried expression is now one of fear and confusion. His hands shake as pleads to Hannibal not to make him do this. She's innocent, he yells. I refuse, I won't!

But Hannibal merely looks down on the sobbing man, and sends him off with nothing more to say. He will do it. He may love Abigail more, but he is devoted to Hannibal. Will is not a knight, there is no oath he is to abide by, just pure and utter devotion. Love. A love that will only grow stronger once Abigail is dealt with.

It is quite a shame, really. That she must die. She's kind to the townsfolk, has excellent manners, is always humming a sweet tune around the gardens. But she just had to take Will away from him. Hannibal cannot forgive her for that

And so, one cloudy afternoon, Will takes Abigail out into the woods. "To pick some flowers for the king" he says, handing Abigail a basket. And as Abigail chooses the flowers, humming a delightful tune, Will takes his knife from his belt, grip firm but sweaty.

But before he has a chance to swing the weapon, Abigail looks up, screaming as she knocks over the basket and tramples all over the flowers. She's met with a wide eyed, teary Will, who lowers his knife in disgust. Abigail isn't sure what to do, feet planted to the floor

His lip quivers for a few moments before he finally speaks, voice croaky.

"I can't do it..." He whispers. "Hannibal wants me to, but I just can't..."

Abigail is still frozen, but her mouth begins to move. "The King?" She asks. "The King wants me dead?"

Will looks up at her, eyes dark in confirmation. He walks closer to Abigail, who's feet finally begin to move. But he grabs her arm before she can get any further, placing the knife in her hand.

"Run." He says. "Run deep into the woods. Don't look back. Don't return. Don't ever let him see you."

Abigail looks down at her palm, at the sharp knife glinting back at her. It appears Will had accidentally snagged her in his grip, as her hand starts to bleed slightly.

Her daze is snapped out of when she feels the huntsman's hands reach her shoulders. "Do you hear me Abigail?" He's yelling now. "Run! Run now if you want to live!" He shoves her back so hard she falls to the ground. "Go!"

Finally, her body snaps, and she's moving quicker than she ever has before. Grabbing the knife and lifting herself off the ground, she runs. She runs like a girl possessed. Possessed by a need to survive. All the while her mind is racing with thoughts. What did I do? Why Hannibal? What have I done to warrant death?

She runs until her legs can't carry her anymore, dropping to the ground in exhaustion. Her lungs are on fire. Her brain is on fire. And before she knows it her tears are stinging her cheeks. She's too tired to go any further. She's not even sure where she's going. Maybe it's to a place worse than death. Just the thought of that alone makes Abigail sob even harder.

Through the cries and gasps of air, she hears a rustling in the background, and her head shoots up. Could the huntsman be back to finish what he started? Well, if he was, she wasn't going down without a fight. Swiftly, she grabs her knife, pointing it in the direction of the sound.

But there is no huntsman, only a small, grey bunny rabbit. It's eyes looking up at her with confusion. Abigail sighs in relief, a smile painting her face for the first time in what feels like days. She bends down, stretching her hand out towards the animal.

"Don't worry." She whispers. "I won't hurt you. I promise."

The rabbit hops forward, sniffing her hand before nuzzling its face into it. But before Abigail has time to thank it for its trust, more rustling can be heard.

More rabbits, a few raccoons, birds swooping down to the ground. A couple of squirrels come out from the trees to greet the girl, their bushy tails brushing up against her cold skin.

"Why, hello all." She smiles through the tears, standing up to pet the birds still hovering in the air. Her attention is soon diverted to the tallest creature among them, a ravishing deer. Abigail walks over to it, carrassing its soft neck.

"Can you take me somewhere safe?" She asks. It's quite foolish, really. To ask an animal for help, as it would understand her. But to her surprise, the deer rears it's head, antlers pointing west.

Abigail pats it's neck again, thanking it and walking to, what she hoped was, safety. Although she would not be alone. Small and large animals alike were behind her, following the girl deeper and deeper into the forest.

[emrickzhomepalace]

“fix the attitude.” - d.m

draco malfoy x reader

slytherin house

female reader

platonic(?)

angst to fluff

warnings: angst, swear words, shitty parents, degrading, draco takes his anger out on you juust a bit but it’s only briefly

words: about 1.1k

the intense and painful weeps and sobs coming from the slytherin male’s dormitory went unheard as all slytherins and students alike were at a quidditch match that would determine finals.

considering that, he felt awfully alone, no crab or goyle or even blaise to calm him even slightly, even though he knew deep down that he would deny them any chance of getting too close to him.

draco couldn’t bear the thought of everything that he had to endure at the time. wishing it all to be over within the blink of the eye or a snap of two fingers.

knock knock knock…

draco freezes for a brief moment. whipping his tears of his cheeks and going to the door to open it, suppose he forgot to put a silencing spell on the room before absolutely destroying his vocal chords, god knows who heard and who heard what.

he opens the door to an awfully pale looking y/n y/l/n. messy bun, eye bags, red eyes, runny nose, all of it.

“the fuck are you doing here?” draco spat. “aren’t you sick?” draco asked again backing away from the girl in disgust.

“i am, yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” the shorter/taller girl says, rubbing her eyes.

“the fuck do you want?” draco uttered in fear, as he was quite sure he knew the answer.

“i heard you crying.” y/n stated simply. damnit. draco thought, pissed at himself.

“n-no! why on earth would i do that? and why on earth should you care either way? even if i was crying i wouldn’t go to a pathetic blood traitor like you, y/l/n.” draco defended, getting more in the girls face trying to scare her.

“i’m not an idiot. your eyes are red and your cheeks are glossy.” y/n stated, pointing out the obvious.

“SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!” draco said backing away quickly, pulling his wand from his bedside into his hand, pointing it at her.

he looked at the girl, breathing heavily, scowling at her. in contrast, she gave him a scared expression, looking him up and down like he was some kind of animal her eyes.

“draco, what the hell?” y/n uttered softly, looking at him, in pure confusion and to a degree - worry.

draco stood in the same position for a second or two longer before chucking his wand across the room.

“draco!-” y/n exclaimed before she felt the poor boy hug her, but he ran to her so fast he collapsed, to tired to get up he just hugged her at her knees, sobbing and wailing.

“i-i.. can’t anymore, y/l/n!” draco said, sniffling, biting his lip slightly to hold in his sobs.

y/n bent down to his level, as he pulled away from her knees.

“you can’t what?” she asked softly, moving some of the hair out of his face, to better see it.

“i-i can’t..! j-just.. sit a-around and be like this..” draco looked up at her, his expression full of pleads to save him from this hellhole.

“be like what, draco?” y/n asked, scooting closer to the blonde haired teen, trying to get more info as she was still so confused.

“a disappointment to my parents!” he yelled.

“what made you think you were a disappointment..?” the y/h/c y/l/n asked the grey-eyed man.

“because of this…” draco swiftly pulled out a folded up letter out of his pocket, and y/n began to read.

Draco,

Words cannot describe how I am feeling right now, to think our Draco is acting as such is quite frankly, humiliating.

Son, you’re supposed to moving up the ranks as you grow, not falling on your face like some pathetic pig.

Our family name can and most likely will get extremely damaged by this incident, — and as a reminder that is your fault, and if you let it slide again you will be paying for it in all possible ways.

Writing to you was quite honestly a waste of my time, you should know what this is about and how your mother and I feel. Never forget this, and if you do and make similar mistakes, mark my words son, you won’t live another day without thinking about how much of a failure you’ll be.

Make me proud son,

Your father

“oh draco, i am so sorry.” y/n said, putting a heart to her chest. wanting to hug him, but not wanting to pass on her cold.

y/n notices a crumpled up piece of paper in draco’s other pocket, the paper looks similar to Mr. Malfoy’s letter.

“what’s that?” y/n asked, pointing to it.

draco sighs. “it’s not important..”

“yes it is.”

“no it isn’t, y/l/n.”

“can i read it anyway?”

“fine.”

draco pulls out the crumpled paper, unraveling it slowly, making sure not to rip it. before handing it to the y/h/c girl.

My dear boy,

You and I both know how your father feels about the situation involving the ‘Harry’ boy. Although I must agree the entirety of the situation including the boy is not only damaging to our families name — which is one of my more minor concerns, but it was also so incredibly immature and hurtful.

However, you must know my side of it, as my side of it is different from your fathers. Of course, I don’t and never will agree with how both of you boys handled it. But, what I do understand that everyone makes reckless mistakes. Even if you didn’t make the best choices, you are still my son, and since your my son it’s my job to teach you what mistakes to not make.

So take this as a lesson, I too will be just as mad as your father if something along the lines of this pops up. But you will always be my little boy, the boy I will forever cherish, so not one mistake can make me not love you.

Take it easy angel,

Mummy ♡

“awww!! she signs her letters to you ‘mummy’?” y/n squealed.

“shut up!” draco laughed, shoving her lightly.

the two send out a short chorus of laughs before they die down.

“but still, your mum makes a good point, why listen to your father at all when your mums clearly smarter?” y/n asked, confused.

“mum’s not as powerful as dad, he always gets the number 1 say.”

y/n let’s out a small “oh” and nods slightly.

“did i fix the attitude?” y/n questioned.

“i did not have an attitude!” draco says laughing as he smacks her shoulder softly.

“answer!”

“yes! my god!”

[bromfieldhall]

(NOT SO) SECRET ADMIRER - Chapter 4 - A Polin Fic

SYNOPSIS: Colin decides to secretly woo Penelope over the course of a week leading up to Valentine's Day with the aid of his siblings.

Modern AU and pure fluff!

RATING: General

PAIRING: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington

Read from beginning on AO3 or here: Prologue,

Chapter 4 – E is for Edelweiss

February 10th

Penelope hurried along the pavement doing her best to dodge the many people heading the other way. She was due to meet up with Eloise, Phillip and Colin for lunch at a small pub they knew off the beaten track of the more popular streets of London.

The place was quaint and did good food at a reasonable price. The portions were a decent size too which suited Colin down to the ground.

She finally arrived ten minutes late and a little out of breath, but she needn’t have worried as Colin was the only one there.

“Eloise messaged to say they were running late,” he told her when she reached him. He gestured to a glass of white wine on the table and added, “I’ve already got your drink.”

“Thanks,” she uttered gratefully. “I need it after the morning I’ve just had.”

“Oh?” he queried, interest piqued. “What happened? Still got problems with your water?”

“My what?” she asked in confusion.

He frowned.

“On Saturday when we started working on my book, you had that…” he paused and pointed to himself, then waved his hand up and down, gesticulating to his body, “…that silky gown thing on and said that you’d been having problems with your hot water.”

Her eyes widened. She’d forgotten about that. There had been no problem. She’d just wanted to answer the door wearing that robe to see his reaction. It had been gratifying to watch his eyes almost pop out of his head. Definite ego boost.

“Uh…yeah, that’s right. The hot water,” she muttered and took a long sip of her drink.

“Might need to get someone in to take a look at your boiler,” he suggested.

She stared at him a moment then shook her head.

“No – I mean, it wasn’t anything to do with the water this morning. Foxes got into the bins last night and there was rubbish all over my garden. I spent ages clearing it up and then I had to shower again because…yuck!” She pulled a disgusted face and gave a little shudder then glanced over at him to see a small smile playing on his lips. “What?”

His smile widened and he gave a slight shrug.

“Nothing. You just looked really cute when you did that.”

“Oh.”

Not sure what else to say, Penelope could feel her face start to warm under his tender gaze. He looked like he was about to say something more when a movement caught her eye and she saw Eloise heading towards them carrying a bunch of flowers with Phillip following in her wake.

Colin must have seen something change in her expression because he turned to see what she was looking at and muttered a mild expletive.

“These are for you,” Eloise declared holding out the bouquet. “From your secret admirer.”

“Oh God,” Colin mumbled as he took a swig of his pint.

“My secret admirer?” Penelope repeated in surprise as she reached for them. “But…how?”

“Phillip got an order for them and told me they were for you to be delivered today, and I thought, two birds, one stone, so we bought them along,” she explained with a smile as she and her boyfriend sat down.

Penelope nodded and looked at the bouquet. They were a sweet smelling, unusual looking bunch of white star shaped flowers that she didn’t recognise.

“It’s Edelweiss,” Phillip supplied as though reading her mind. “Not easily sourced in bloom at this time of year, but I managed to find some from a friend who grows it for medicinal purposes.”

“There’s an envelope in there too,” Eloise added, “Are you going to open it?”

“No,” Colin snapped, giving his sister a glare. “It’s private, I’m sure that Pen would rather read it later.”

“I’m sure that Pen can answer for herself,” she retorted, giving him just as stern a glare.

They all suddenly looked at the red head and she darted a glance between all of them before pulling out the envelope and putting into her bag.

“I’ll read it later,” she stated firmly, shooting Colin a quick smile.

He gave her a slightly relieved one back and took another long draught of his drink.

“Doesn’t matter. I know who it is,” Eloise suddenly announced smugly. She shot her brother a mischievous glance before proclaiming, “It’s Alfred Debling.”

“Alfie?!”

“Who?”

“Eloise,” Phillip groaned with a pained expression.

“Who is Alfred Debling?” Colin asked again, a frown marring his expression.

“He’s the guy I took to Benedict’s art show,” Penelope explained a little awkwardly.

“Him?” Colin exclaimed on a disbelieving laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. He didn’t look as if he’d ever had a creative thought in his life and he’s the one you think is supposedly behind Pen’s gifts?”

“Yes, because giving pens to a writer is so creative,” Eloise retorted dryly.

“They’re actually very nice pens,” Penelope cut in a little defensively.

“That’s besides the point,” Eloise dismissed. She leaned forward. “Alfred is still interested in you, Pen, I’m sure of it. And it makes perfect sense. He’s clearly trying to get you to see a different side of him because you didn’t really give him a chance last time, did you?”

“Probably because he doesn’t have any personality,” Colin muttered grimly.

Penelope gave him a sly glance and bit back a smile.

“You know, El, I think you might be onto something.”

“What?” Colin exclaimed indignantly.

Phillip gave him a sympathetic look.

“I am,” Eloise agreed, ignoring her brother. “And he knows all about Benedict’s art, obviously, and where you live and what you do for a living. It’s got to be him.”

“This is ridiculous,” Colin grumbled unhappily.

“You’re right, I hadn’t thought of that and who else could it be, really?” Penelope pretended to ponder thoughtfully.

“Someone better than him, I would hope,” Colin groused as he had a mouthful of his drink.

“And he’s a good-looking chap,” Eloise pointed out.

“Oh, he is,” Penelope agreed fervently.

Colin choked on his beer.

“It’s not Alfred,” Phillip suddenly chipped in, feeling sorry for his, hopefully, future brother-in-law. Everyone turned to look at him. “He’s out of the country for one thing and seeing someone else for another. Now, I think it’s time we ordered some food, don’t you? I, for one, am starving.”

“Oh, well, never mind,” Penelope said chirpily. “I guess the mystery continues.”

Colin gave the other man a grateful look. If he had had to listen to Penelope gushing over that Dobbin chap any longer, he might just have given in and confessed that her secret admirer was him and not that blond buffoon. Not that she seemed particularly bothered that it wasn’t, in fact, him.

And as for Eloise…he’d have to think long and hard how he was going to get her back for this. If it had been anyone else, he would think that they were just trying to help. Trying to keep Penelope from guessing the truth. But not Eloise. She was doing it simply because she liked winding him up.

He shot his sister an angry look and her lips twitched in response. He swore to God that if she laughed, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.

Suddenly, he felt a hand touch his arm and looked over at Penelope who was smiling at him. Immediately, he felt some of his annoyance ease.

“Have you decided yet?” she asked, glancing down at the menu.

He nodded and smiled back.

They finally ordered and the rest of the lunch went by quickly. When they’d all finished and paid, Eloise and Phillip headed off while Colin waited outside with Penelope for her cab. He was going back to Bridgerton House because the brothers were all going out for the evening. It didn’t happen often and Colin was looking forward to it.

He glanced over at Penelope and saw her fiddling with the blooms of the Edelweiss.

“So, uh…are you really okay with your secret admirer not being that man?” he asked, hoping she said yes.

Penelope looked up at him and laughed.

“Absolutely. He’s a nice enough guy, but not the one for me.”

He nodded, then ventured a little hesitantly, “And…do you think your real secret admirer could be the one for you?”

She looked at him a long moment then slowly nodded.

“I know he is.”

Colin felt his heart skip at the surety of her words and his gaze dropped to her mouth. It wouldn’t take much to lean in and touch his lips to hers and he so dearly wanted to…

A loud honk startled them both and they turned to see her cab had arrived. She gave him a rueful smile, then gave him a quick peck on the cheek and got into the cab.

The drive home was relatively quick and she spent most of the journey talking herself in and out of the fact that Colin very much looked like he was going to kiss her. Properly. Like, on the lips.

By the time she got inside her house she’d decided that she wasn’t going to think about it anymore. Much.

She put the Edelweiss into a vase and added some water and popped it on the kitchen windowsill. Then she pulled out the envelope and opened it up eager to read what he’d written.

My Dearest Penelope,

E is for Edelweiss.

My gift to today symbolises eternal love, fidelity and devotion. It also a symbol of strength and courage.

The first is everything that I pledge to you.

The second is everything that I see you are. A strong, brave woman that I hope will allow me to stand by her side.

To live a happy and fulfilled life together.

Will you let me, Penelope?

I shall wait and see.

Yours always

?

Penelope let out a sigh as she blinked back some tears and put the note back in the envelope.

Is that truly how he saw her? Strong and brave? She didn’t always feel it, but it made her want to see herself through his eyes.

To stand by his side too.

And as for living a life together…well, four more days and she was going to make very sure that they were going to start doing exactly that!

[greylocke]

The Beast Within

I hate this time of year.

Ringing in the new year pings the back of my tongue with a familiar sour taste. The infamous ball drop a near exact image of my heart sinking. The countdown, although merely a succession of numbers leading into a new arbitrary section of time, mimicking the rhythm of your final breaths. During a time where others are celebrating the future and moving forward, I am forced to relive my past — more specifically, the worst day of my life.

My father, my person, my best friend, and my hero suddenly and unexpectedly seized to death on January 2nd at age 57. I was 27. I celebrated the onset of 2021, only to be met with utter destruction. The death of my father collapsed my ethos and left the ruins for me to pick through. I have come to find peace in the unknown. I honor the fragility of life, remaining genuine and strong when the tides of the moon sway me. I embrace the flow chaos with open arms, for I know I cannot bend its will. I am a force to be reckoned with.

It’s almost 2025 and I want to stay home. I want to dissociate on my couch with the comfort of my dog keeping me grounded. But, I make plans on a whim with some cute guy with a mustache to keep me accountable and get me out for the night. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider cancelling, but I’m trying to be better about that. So for the third year in a row, I scolded myself until I put on some glitter, white platform boots, and a forced smile. Hopefully at some point tonight it won’t be so forced.

I start off strong in the record store, rambling about cassette tapes that most find irrelevant. We seamlessly land at my favorite diner in town where I unabashedly destroy a veggie burger and fries, smearing barbecue sauce all over my face every bite. I had forgotten to eat all day. I lock my keys in my car looking for change and have to Uber to my apartment and back for my spare key. I should be embarrassed, but for some reason I’m not.

Shrugging off the chaos I seem to attract, we laugh it off and enjoy each other’s company. Our lukewarm drinks waiting with their babysitters, we walk into the 40 Watt with unforced smiles. Talking to him is a comfortable wave meeting the shore — swift yet gentle. Our words effortlessly intertwine in a way only we can comprehend. He brought me the gift of laughter that rang through my chest, healing a small part of my woes each time. He proudly announces his intense, pure interest in me. Not just me…my mind, my past, my soul, my life. I feel safe. A rare occurrence, but one that I crave.

With reluctance, I reveal the tattered yet unrelenting beast I hold captive within my gut, shackled to my rib cage. Accompanied by a soundtrack of a classic Athens band, I hesitantly allow him to get a proper look at her. He observes the creature from afar as she wretches and bellows between my bones, begging to be released. Others flee in disgust, abhorred with her feral form. He holds the privilege carefully, like cupping water in his hands. He respects the cautious distance I strictly mandate. He watches the beast pace, intrigued by her elegant movement and ferocious aura. The creature exudes intimidation, but he is entranced by her powerful warmth. They lock eyes for a fleeting moment and he sees the beauty in her terrifying power. Only I selfishly embrace the beast, tracing the scars where hair cannot regrow. As I gaze into her piercing stare I feel a fiery, yet calm, energy encompass my being.

Perhaps I am robbing myself of something by keeping the beast hidden. Perhaps I am robbing others of experiencing the beauty of a dynamic and fierce soul. I can’t let anyone scar her again. I must keep her safe, and he made me feel safe.

To be treated so gently by a stranger, a man nonetheless, rattled me to my core. The countdown ends. We exchange a glance, clink our beers, and sheepishly smile at the ground. I had to kiss him. I felt safe…and I haven’t felt that since 2020.

I will never be able to thank him enough for the evening we shared. He showed me that I can be vulnerable again. His gentle hand on my shoulder, the playful nudge of his elbow, and the way I kept catching him looking at me will be forever tucked away in a secret pocket of my heart — right next to the beast.