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anticomedygarden · 10 months

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hair

Annabeth had a complicated relationship with her hair.

also on ao3

"Ow!" Annabeth whined when Thalia pulled on another messy blonde tangle.

"Sorry," Thalia said, probably for the millionth time. The older girl was kneeling behind Annabeth on the floor of their current hideout and attempting to get the knots out of Annabeth's hair. None of them really knew the last time it had been brushed - probably not since she ran away. "I don't really know what I'm doing here."

"You just gotta unknot it!" Annabeth said. She didn't see why it was so hard; Thalia was 14 and should know how to untangle hair by now. Annabeth did.

Thalia laughed at her, but it sounded strained. "I don't even have a brush, Squirt. Plus, I've never had long hair."

Annabeth's mouth dropped open. "Really?" She thought all girls had long hair at some point.

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I don't really like it. I like yours, though." Annabeth beamed, at least until Thalia tugged again, and she whined.

Suddenly, there was another set of hands in her hair. "Let me help," Luke said.

Thalia put a hand against Annabeth's back, and the younger girl tried not to buck it off. She was independent! "You can try, but I don't know how much better it can get without a wash and a brush."

Luke sighed. "I can at least try."

(Annabeth had never particularly cared about her hair. It wasn't that she didn't like it or anything, she just really didn't have any strong feelings toward it. She liked that it's there, liked the comforting weight and extra warmth in winter, but she'd figured out at a young age that the yellow color did nothing but hinder her in her pursuits, so she didn't bother with it. She could deal with it, but she wouldn't put any extra effort into it.)

When Annabeth left the showers, Percy was waiting on the steps of her cabin, lurking awkwardly.

"What are you doing?" she asked. It was a surprise, to say the least. She would've expected him to be hanging out with Grover or training in the arena. Besides, she had just gotten out of the shower. A blush worked its way into her cheeks.

"I don't know, I thought we could hang out," he said. Then, he caught sight of her fingers tangled in her knotted hair. "What happened?"

Her blush deepened. "It hasn't recovered from the quest yet." And she hadn't had the patience to brush it out in the few days since they'd been back, compounding and compounding the knot until she couldn't get it out if she tried. "I might have to cut it."

"Oh." Percy looked at her funny and stood, then made a move like he was gonna touch her hair. She stepped back on instinct, and he raised his hands. "I can try and get it out."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously?"

"I can work a brush." He almost sounded offended.

Normally, she would refuse, balking at the prospect of someone touching her hair, but after the quest, she found she didn't mind the thought as much as she thought she would. Plus, the knot was really bad, so he couldn't make it much worse, and it'd save her a lecture from Silena. She shrugged. "Fine."

Then, she went and got her hair brush from her bunk and went back out the door and sat on the step in front of him.

"Holy crap, what did you do to it?" he exclaimed.

She turned to give him a disbelieving look. "I went on a quest! When do you think I had time to untangle it?"

He didn't really look like he believed her, but he didn't say anything else.

"All right," he muttered. The first pull through had her jerking her head back and grabbing his hand behind her.

"Don't try and do it all at once, you'll just make it worse," she scolded. "Start from the bottom."

She felt him gently pull the lower half of her hair and start brushing it. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

After a minute, she relaxed, actually kind of enjoying the feeling. It was nice.

Finally, he finished and handed her back the brush. "I'm done."

"Wait, really?" She reached back to feel her hair and sure enough, it was back to its usual wavy strands, unknotted and flowing. "How'd you do that so fast?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. It probably helped that it's wet. Do you wanna spar?"

Mouth still open, she nodded. She'd have to keep that little affinity of his in mind.

(As she got older, she couldn't help but think that indifference was an asset. Quests certainly didn't provide any time or supplies for hair care. Plus, having Percy around made sure it was wet with dirty water half the time, so why try.)

"Remind me why we're out here, again?" Percy asked as they picked their way through the forest.

"Because Tyson said he smelled something funny," Annabeth answered. "And be quiet, you're gonna scare whatever it is away."

Percy stuck his tongue out at her but stopped talking, and they continued walking through the forest until they heard a sound from a ways away.

They froze. One look and they were heading off toward the noise.

It soon became apparent they were heading for nothing as the ground beneath their feet became squishier and squishier.

Then, there was another noise, and she stopped abruptly.

Too abruptly, apparently, because the next thing she knew, she was face down in muddy swamp water.

Groaning, she didn't stay down long and jumped up, knocking Percy over into the water. (He'd be fine.)

"What the Hades, Seaweed Brain?" she said.

He stood slowly. "Why'd you stop?"

"I heard something," she said, reaching up to get some of the gunk off her face. When she touched her hair, though, she paused. It was soaked through with the brackish water. The only thing that could clean it now was a good shower.

Well. It's not like she really cared all that much.

That was her only consolation as they trudged back to camp.

(She didn't think she'd ever want to chop it off; no, it was a part of her, a part she did kinda love on good days, even if it was a nuisance. And she loved having that connection to Percy, and Silena, in a way.)

"Damn, girl, what did I tell you?" Silena said from her spot behind Annabeth's chair. The older girl was attempting to rescue the blonde mass from its latest adventure, and Annabeth was afraid it wasn't looking too good.

"I was kidnapped by a titan, I couldn't exactly take care of it," Annabeth grumbled, wincing when Silena gave a particularly rough pull. She'd been sitting in this chair for years for the daughter of Aphrodite to cut her hair and just generally take care of it, and she still couldn't stand watching herself in the vanity mirror. She looked away.

"Well, I'm afraid I may have to cut it."

"That's fine," she said. It wouldn't be the first time. She looked at herself one final time to mourn the current length and caught sight of the grey streak. "Wait!"

"What?" Silena said, sounding surprised. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure you can't untangle it?" she asked.

Silena sighed and picked up the knot of hair again. "I can try, but it'll take a while."

"That's fine," Annabeth said definitively. Hair grew at approximately half an inch per month, but Annabeth wasn't sure how the stress from holding the sky would affect the growth rate or the return to its normal color. However, she wasn't going to hurry the process along, at least, not as long as Percy still had his.

Not that she would ever tell anyone that.

So she sat as patiently as she ever had while Silena untangled her hair.

(Probably the longest Annabeth ever went without brushing her hair was when Percy was missing. Without his fingers to run through it or Silena to pester her about it, she just didn't think of it. Or want to think of it.)

"Okay, no. Come here."

Annabeth looked up from the map she was staring at on a table in Bunker 9 to see Piper walking towards her. "What?"

Leo glanced over from whatever project he was working on with a similar expression of bewilderment on his face. Clearly, he didn't know what Piper was talking about, either.

"Annabeth, your hair. When was the last time you brushed your hair?" Piper asked exasperatedly, steering Annabeth to sit down in a chair.

"I was in the middle of something," Annabeth protested.

"You can go back to staring at that map after I fix this rat's nest," said Piper. "Seriously, I know you have a brush. When was the last time you used it?"

Accepting her fate, Annabeth just shrugged. Her hair was rarely, if ever, on the front of her mind.

When Piper attempted to drag a brush through it, they both winced. "Oh my gods, there's a ponytail in here? How long has that been there? And how long has it been since you washed it?"

Once again, Annabeth shrugged. She honestly had no idea, though, come to think of it, it had been pretty itchy lately.

"Okay, well, that ends now." With that, Piper went to work on the knot, attacking it with the brush. "I'm gonna have to cut the ponytail out."

Annabeth startled. "Wait - the hair or the rubber band?"

"The rubber band," Piper said, causing Annabeth to breathe a sigh of relief. She knew it was stupid, but she didn't want there to be any risk of Percy not recognizing her when they found Camp Jupiter. "Your hair is completely wrapped around it."

Without waiting for a response, she whipped out Katoptris and sliced the rubber band out. Annabeth's hair didn't move much.

"Good lord," Piper muttered. "Here we go." The daughter of Aphrodite then went at the knot with the same vigor as Annabeth going at a training dummy. It did not feel good.

Piper was far less gentle than her sister. Piper was far less gentle than Percy.

Annabeth didn't like that thought, didn't like thinking of the dead, and she really didn't like thinking of Percy as missing.

But when she squirmed to try and get away, Piper gripped her shoulder, keeping her from standing. "Piper, I-"

"Hold still."

"I can do it-"

"But you won't, will you?" Piper said, raising an eyebrow.

Even Annabeth had to admit that she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "I promise I'll-"

"No," Piper said with finality. However, it was what she said next that rooted Annabeth in place. "Let me do this for you, please."

She paused. It had never occurred to her that Piper might be trying to help in whatever way she could, that she didn't have the mechanical skills to help build the ship or the memories to help try and pinpoint where exactly Camp Jupiter was. "Fine."

"Thank you."

So, she sat there while Piper untangled her hair and only winced every so often.

Finally, probably an hour later, she was done, and they both stood. "Now, you're going to go eat dinner, then you're gonna shower, and then you're gonna go to bed."

Annabeth blanched. "I still have so much work to do."

Piper put her hands on her hips. "And it will still be there in the morning."

They stared at each other, neither one willing to relent, until Leo giggled from across the bunker. "Someone's in trouble."

Piper snorted. "I don't know why you're laughing, Repair Boy, you're going, too."

Annabeth didn't have to see his face to know his mouth had hit the floor. "I never agreed to that!"

Piper's eyes narrowed, and she went to grab Leo from his work bench. "I don't care." She pointed at the door. "Now, both of you, dinner, shower, bed."

There was no way Annabeth would agree to that, not when there was still so much work to do on the ship, maps to study, star charts to examine - really, she didn't have time. "How about dinner and bed, then shower in the morning?"

Piper's eyes hardened from where she was dragging Leo by the collar over to the door, then she pushed Annabeth's back until the blonde was also standing outside the door. "Dinner, shower, bed." She turned around to lock Bunker 9 behind them. "And for the love of the gods, wash your hair. Yes, Leo, both of you."

(Annabeth needn't have worried about Percy recognizing her. She probably could have shaved her head and painted her face to look like Iron Man, and he would recognize her, even in the depths of Tartarus.)

"What do you think of me cutting my hair?" Annabeth asked.

Her and Percy were limping along the Phlegethon at the approximate rate of a Zamboni in a swamp. Pain and soreness had settled into every corner of her body, but Annabeth was somehow thinking of her hair tangled at the back of her neck and stuck to her face with sweat, and how the hell she would fix it if they made it back to the mortal world. (When. When they made it back to the mortal world.)

She barely felt Percy turn to look at her. "I think you should do whatever you want with it."

Aw. She probably should have predicted that. "Come on, tell me the truth."

He paused. "You know I love your hair."

When he didn't say anything else, she pressed her fingers against his waist. "But?"

"But," he started. "But it's your hair."

"I know that," she said with more force than she meant to.

If she could see anything in the dark, she would've seen his brows furrow. "Do you really wanna get rid of it?"

She bit her lip. "No." She couldn't bear to let go of everything it meant to her now, the memories it carried beyond just the grey streak: Thalia, Luke, Silena, Piper, Percy. It was hers to care for, hers to maintain, and she hated that it took Tartarus for her to realize that. "I just don't know how it's going to recover from this."

"Hey," he said, stopping them. "It's gonna be fine. It'll get through it." She gave him a disbelieving look, though she wasn't sure he could see it. "Do you know how I know?"

Her hands fiddled with the back of his shirt where they were wrapped around his waist. "How?"

"Because it's so bright that it's one of the only things I can see right now."

She pressed her face into his chest. "All right. If you say so."

He rested a cheek on her head. "I do."

(Then, of course, there were the practical purposes.)

"Okay, I think I'm finally getting this," Percy said above her.

"Thank the gods."

He had been messing with her hair for about two hours now trying to figure out how to do a French braid. Without technology, his only resource was a book he found at the library, and it wasn't like Annabeth knew how to do it.

Though she may want to learn soon for the same reason Percy was. He was gonna have a little sister, one that, for all intents and purposes, would probably grow up with Annabeth as an older sister figure which was absolutely insane for her to think about. She technically had plenty of experience as a counselor and an actual older sister (though that qualification was debatable), but it was a whole other thing when it was Percy's baby sister.

It was very hard not to think of Silena, and even harder not to think of Thalia. If she was half the older sister to the new little girl that Silena and Thalia were to her, she would have succeeded.

But for now, she could help Percy learn to be a big brother.

(So maybe she did love her hair. Just a little bit.)

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asnowdriftsomewhere · 2 months

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Daylight pt 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Cassian x f!reader

AN: Sorry this took so long! I was working on other writing projects, and this was put to the back burner, but i hope you still enjoy it!

Also, if you like this, i am writing an OC/Helion/Azriel story over on Ao3 called A Court of Myth and Rain :) Go check it out!

Summary: The fall out from dinner

Warning: talk of illness and death

Word count: 1336

“What the hell was that?” Cassian hissed at Mor while she pretended not to see him and continued idly drinking from her glass of wine; as if she hadn't just pulled a truth from you that had shaken him to his core.

“Y/N is in the garden with Elaine and Feyre is putting Nyx to bed,” Rhysand slipped his hands into his pockets as he entered his office where Cassian had all but dragged Mor after she released you from her power. It had terrified him to realize what she was doing to you. How even after he'd told her to stay out of it, she'd still taken it upon herself to force you to tell everyone things you clearly weren't ready to talk about. Even more than that, it absolutely broke him how you simply shut down once she let you go. How your eyes went vacant and your face remained blank. Every tear that slid down your cheek was like a knife to his gut, and he planned to make the female in front of him answer for everyone.

“I did you a favor,” Mor kept her face impassive as she finished her glass. “Now you know what she was hiding. You said it was bothering you.”

“I said she wasn't a problem,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “I told you to leave it alone.”

“You said there was something off about her,” she pointed out with an arched brow. “I've never known your instincts to be wrong, so I decided to get to the bottom of it.”

“The problem Mor,” Rhysand stepped in as Cassian released a growl of frustration, “is that Y/N is not a threat, she never has been and your use of your power to force her to reveal her private information is more than just a betrayal of Helion as our ally. You violated her.”

“I protected this family,” she seethed at him, “Something you seem incapable of doing lately. I will not apologize for making sure she wasn't going to slit Cassian's throat in his sleep. Or destroy the library with all the Priestesses still in it. You just let her into our home, Rhysand. A stranger who could destroy everything-”

“This is about Keir?” Cassian demanded, cutting her off. “Seriously, Mor? You did that to an innocent female because Rhys made a deal with your father?”

“He has nothing to do with it,” she growled as the glass in her hand shattered to pieces.

“Regardless,” Rhysand's lips were a tight line as he looked at his cousin. “Y/N has been a trusted advisor for Helion and his father before him for more than three hundred years. I've been aware of her existence since before Under the Mountain, even though I'd never met her before a few weeks ago.”

That made Mor pause, her eyes softening just a touch, “You have?”

“I have,” he confirmed, his voice hard and expression tense. He simultaneously looked guilty that Mor was still so angry at him and equally furious that she used her gifts on you. Forced you to tell a truth you did not want to share. Not yet.

Mor's frown shifted into a look of regret, “I didn't know.”

“No, you didn't,” Rhysand sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Where do we go from here?”

“I have to talk to Y/N,” Cassian crossed his arms over his chest. His wings tucked in tight as he looked at his High Lord.

Rhys nodded, “Make sure she's okay and if she's not,” violet eyes flicked towards Morrigan and back again “get her whatever she needs.”

“Handle this, Rhys,” Cassian's tone was low, a warning.

“Take care of her, Cassian.” There was no warmth in his brother's voice. The voice of the High Lord.

Without another word, the Illyrian turned and left the room. The moment he was alone in the too quiet hall, he felt the world slip out from under him. She was sick. Y/N was sick. And she didn't know if it was worth it to try and fight her disease or if she should just let it kill her. He didn't know how to process it. How to comprehend it. The fae did not get sick like humans did. Succumbing to seasonal viruses or a chill that sets into their bones. Fae illnesses were lethal, nearly every time.

Y/N was sick. It was nearly a guarantee that she would die, and Cassian could do nothing to stop it - to save her.

He didn't know why the news gutted him as it did. He didn't know why he felt like he was falling without beginning or end and that cruel darkness was swallowing him whole. He didn't know when this mystery female made of sunbeams and a gentle breeze had become whatever she was to him. He didn't know when she had shifted from a mere curiosity to something integral.

Elaine appeared before him. Brown gold curls and fawn colored eyes filled his vision as she placed a soft hand on his cheek and wiped away a stray tear that had trickled down his face.

“Pull yourself together,” she ordered, her voice sounding nothing like the gentle female he’d come to know. It was enough to startle him from the spiral his thoughts had taken him in. He blinked at her, and she held his gaze. “She has enough to deal with. Don't make your emotions her problem.”

Cassian nodded, and she dropped her hand as he wiped his eyes clear of tears. Once he'd regained his composure, he looked to the middle Archeron sister who studied him closely before seeming satisfied. She handed him a hot mug of tea and gestured towards the doors that led to the garden still blooming thanks to her careful dedication.

Taking one more calming breath, Cassian pushed open the doors to where you were sitting in a lowback chair. Your eyes were wide and clear as you watched the stars twinkle. Your hands were clasped together in your lap, and your head was tipped back as the lights seemed to dance and shine for you even as you sat so still below them. Your skin glowed faintly in the dark, a flicker of gold that had the flowers around you leaning in as if to drink in the daylight you brought with you wherever you went.

Cassian went still to see you there. An angel with broken wings. Fallen star longing for home.

“Are you going to stand there, General, or are you going to join me?” Your voice was low and breathy, as if you were exasperated by him, and he felt something sink in his chest.

“I brought you tea,” he answered you slowly as he set the mug in your hands and sat down in the seat beside you.

“Thank you,” you whispered. Your voice was still as brittle and broken as it had been when Mor had pulled the truth from you against your will. You didn't blame the female. You understood why she did it. If someone was a threat to the people you loved, you would burn the world down before you let a hair on their head be harmed. That didn't mean you were okay with it. You felt betrayed and violated, and it would be a long time before you could face the female that had done this to you.

“Y/N…” Cassian started but trailed off as his gaze met yours. His eyes were so sad, so unsure as he tipped his head to the side and searched for something to say. Anything to fill the silence.

You sighed deeply and turned back towards the sky. “Look at the stars, General.” You let the ghost of a smile pull at the corners of your lips as you spoke, “Look how they shine.”

Cassian obeyed. Turning his head to the night sky that enveloped you, he looked up, and together, you watched the stars shine.

Part 8

#cassian x you #cassian acotar #cassian #cassian x reader #fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #rhysand #mor acotar

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reina-petrova · 8 months

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You Have My Word ・❥・ Elejah

“Elena, you don’t have to just be a doppelgänger… you have to be a virgin. So, theoretically, if you lost it to someone, the ritual wouldn’t work.” “Are you serious?” “Yes, but there’s a catch…” “Of course there is. What is it, Bonnie?” “It has to be with an Original.” ↳AU where Elena discovers that Klaus’s hybrid ritual requires a virgin doppelgänger sacrifice and Elena never lost the V-card. Now her only hope is a certain Original. Set around season 3 during ripper!stefan and pining!Damon, post Elijah!haircut and post Elena's 18th birthday.

↳Warnings: Smut, virgin kink, dirty talk, light dom/sub undertones if you squint.

↳6.7k words

↳Cross-posted to AO3 here

↳Song rec: Terrible Thing by AG (A/N: this is just a silly AU fic that popped into my head, it’s only a vehicle for smut so be forewarned the canon details/timeline may be off 🤪)

・❥・

[text: 2:48pm] I found something. Call me l8tr. - Bonnie

Elena let out a shaky breath at the text in front of her. She finished putting the last of her books into her locker and slung her bag over her shoulder. She could hardly look away from the text as she shut the metal door closed, typing a quick response to Bonnie in the meantime.

[text: 2:49pm] I will. Thx B. - Elena

It almost seemed too good to be true, and as Elena returned to her car, she allowed herself a brief moment to envision a happy ending where Bonnie's new plan would actually work and they'd kill Klaus. Stefan would return to her. The Originals would be gone. Her town would be safe. She'd live.

Still, after so many run-ins with the supernatural, she'd learned to keep a healthy dose of reality mixed in with her positivity. Every plan was sure to work until it wasn't, and unfortunately, the last few indeed hadn't. It wasn't her life she was so worried about saving, it was everybody else's. With Klaus gone, they would be safe. But while Bonnie searched for any answers she could find, putting in all this time and effort, Elena had to at least try.

The moment she arrived home, she called Bonnie.

"Hey Elena,"

"Hi Bonnie, you said you found something? What's going on?" Elena sat down onto her bed with a small sigh.

"Yes and no. It's more of a loophole than anything else." Bonnie seemed a bit unsure, which gave rise to uncertainty in Elena. She prepared herself. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Like I said before, most of my grimoires don't go back far enough for the hybrid ritual, it's way too old. But I did find something in my oldest one, a description of it that included a word I've never seen before - virgino, in Latin."

Elena paused at that. She couldn't be hearing this correctly.

"As in...?"

"Yep. Virgin." Okay, so she had heard correctly.

"So what does that mean?"

“Elena, you don’t have to just be a doppelgänger… you have to be a virgin. So, theoretically, if you lost it, the ritual wouldn’t work.”

Elena's brows furrowed in confusion. She'd never heard that part of the ritual before. She wondered how accurate this description of the ritual could possibly be.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, but there’s a catch…” She heard Bonnie's voice grow more dim, and she knew it was nothing good.

“Of course there is. What is it, Bonnie?”

“Well... in order to ensure total loss of purity... it has to be with an Original.”

・❥・

“Thank you for meeting with me, Elijah.”

Elena’s fingers fidgeted around the coffee mug, her nails tracing over the width of it with anxiety. Elijah inclined his head politely, sitting opposite her at the Mystic Grill. It was far from a private place to speak, but Elena chose it for that very reason. Though the conversation was awkward at best, she didn’t know how she’d react if the two of them were alone. She didn’t even know how he’d react.

Despite all his wisdom, she knew he’d never guess why she’d asked to meet here.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Elena?”

He cut a handsome figure, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit that accentuated his shoulders with a matching black collared shirt underneath. The shirt opened at his throat and exposed the smallest peek of his clavicle. His hair was shorter now, brushed back and away from his face. A gold ring encircled one of his fingers. Noticing these details certainly wasn’t helping her nervousness. She swallowed the dryness in her throat at sound of the word pleasure.

Their “relationship” was built on shifting sands and she knew that, a tentative trust that both she and he tested the boundaries of. This would certainly cross the next three boundaries.

“Well, Bonnie was reading more into the hybrid ritual, trying to find a loophole. Trying to find our opportunity to kill Klaus.”

Elijah’s eyes searched hers but he said nothing in response, patiently waiting for her to continue. The words seem to spill out of her mouth as slowly as possible, yet her heart rammed in her rib cage. She was grateful he couldn't read her mind but doubtless he heard that at least.

What if he says no? How embarrassing would that be? And if it happened, how would she even explain to Stefan and Damon why suddenly the ritual wouldn’t work? Why it had to be Elijah?

“Yes.”

His smooth voice broke her from her reverie. She cleared her throat and tried again, taking another sip of her coffee. Matt had courteously slipped an extra something in her coffee when she’d asked, figuring even a drop of liquid courage would do her some good. It burned like a low ember in her stomach. Elijah’s tea stood in front of him, untouched.

“She found one other way that the ritual could be dismantled, apart from all the other options.” The other options being actually dying, becoming a vampire, etc. She’d gladly give her life if it meant her friends and town were safe, but killing Klaus would ensure safety forever. She had to at least try.

“Apparently, it’s not just the sacrifice of the doppelgänger… it’s the sacrifice of a virginal doppelgänger. So if the doppelgänger is no longer... you know, it won't work.”

Elijah’s brow furrowed, and she held some small victory in the fact that she was able to catch him so completely off guard. It made her feel less ridiculous in suggesting this, but also showed that not even the Originals knew all.

“But how can this be? I’ve never heard of such a requirement.”

“I guess it’s just one of the old failsafes from that era, tied in with the idea of innocence and purity in the face of…” She trailed off hesitantly.

“Evil.” He finished for her with a slow smile. She allowed herself a small smile in return.

When silence settled upon the conversation once more, Elijah took up the mantle, shifting to lean closer to her across the table. “And I assume you are a-“

“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper but she knew he heard it loud and clear.

Elijah raised his brows in some surprise, a smirk crossing his lips for the briefest of flashes. His hands quickly moved the teacup to the side of the table, the drink long forgotten. His fingers tapped slowly at the wooden table in thought, and Elena took a small breath into her lungs and held it.

“Forgive me, but with both Salvatore’s at your heels, and if I recall their history with Katerina-“ Elijah’s palm turned upwards, his eyes casting downwards for a moment.

“I am not Katherine.”

Then his gaze flickered up to hers, amusement clear in his warm brown eyes. She thought she saw a small look of admiration somewhere in those eyes.

“No. You are certainly not, Elena.”

Elena took another sip of the coffee, begging for the alcohol to provide some inspiration. As it was, her words were failing her and they hadn’t even gotten to the brunt of it. Part of her hoped he’d ascertain it himself without her even needing to say it. Though she wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to hear he’d say it either. Elijah was a noble man, and he ensured any and all terms of a deal were clear. He was the key to their plan to kill Klaus, and innuendos would never do, not when there was so much on the line. Thankfully, he wasn’t one for vulgarity either.

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, there’s only one thing left for you to do.” The amusement still never left Elijah’s eyes and it made her squirm in her chair. His gaze was so intent and heavy on her, his presence commanding. He was a man unlike she’d ever known. “But I’m assuming there’s a reason you called me here.”

"Yes." Here goes nothing. "The only way to ensure the total-“ she cleared her throat again. “-loss of purity is for it to be with an Original.”

Realization dawned on his features in the blink of an eye. Then, ever so slowly, she watched his face darken with something else. Her eyes dropped back to her fingers, nails digging into her nail beds. She wanted to disappear, to melt right into her chair.

“And further ensure the division of the family.” Elijah murmured. “If it can only be an Original, then only Niklaus’s own family can betray him.”

A small knot of fear tied itself in Elena’s stomach. If he refused, if he changed his mind about killing Klaus, all hope was lost. She tried her best to gauge his reaction, but he was unreadable at best, a stone statue at worst. Elijah never let his hand slip, and she could no more understand him than she could an ancient language.

Suddenly, her nerves got the better of her. The caffeine outweighed the alcohol, and she felt herself standing to her feet, grabbing her bag from the back of the chair.

“I’m sorry, this was a ridiculous idea. We’ll find another way-“ She took no more than a step away from the table, prepared to flee the building when she felt his hand take hers gently.

“Elena.”

He pulled on her hand slightly, just enough that she stepped back towards him and towards the table. Even in the smallest, most delicate of gestures, she felt his strength thrumming in his fingertips. She turned to face him, and he’d stood to his full height, his broad frame dwarfing hers.

It was then that she allowed herself the opportunity to even process what she was asking. She’d been so caught up in trying to kill Klaus, prevent any more innocent lives lost, that she hadn’t thought about what this would. mean. Her and Elijah. Together.

A flash of their bodies intertwining appeared in her mind, the heat of his hand on hers suddenly feeling like a searing flame on her skin. The knot of fear began to dissolve, and something else pooled in her lower stomach.

The same feeling she saw in his eyes just then.

Four little words, and despite herself, she felt her heart flutter.

“You have my word.”

・❥・

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Bonnie repeated for the fifth time that evening. Elena shot her a half annoyed glance, to which Bonnie grinned in response.

“I know.” Elena repeated for the sixth. All too well. Though she had a feeling she had no real idea.

Elena sat down into the bed with a quiet sigh. Bonnie had brought the grimoire where she found the loophole so Elena could see it for herself. Though her Latin was nonexistent, there was no denying that word. Virgin. She'd even brought a few extras she didn't have time to go through earlier in case they had any other information to offer. So far, nothing. The books shifted slightly towards Elena in their careful piles as her weight settled into the covers.

“What about Stefan? I thought you guys were waiting.”

The reminder of Stefan struck a chord in her heart, but one that had been struck too many times lately. She believed in her and Stefan’s love, but with him firmly in Klaus’s grasp, she could hardly recognize him. As it was, she had little time to wait.

“Stefan’s lost right now, Bonnie. And if this could get him away from Klaus and save his life, I’m going to try.”

“And Damon?” Bonnie offered quietly, with some note of derision in her voice. Elena knew how she felt about him, but there was also no denying Damon's obvious feelings for her, and how protective he'd become. It was almost too much to think about. Instead, she stood up and began aimlessly tidying the room, putting things away in random drawers. What does one do to prepare for this situation?

“He doesn’t know- he can’t know. He’ll lose it. He’ll say it’s a bad plan.” Along with a few choice words for Elijah and maybe a dagger dipped in white oak ash. Then they’d have no plan.

“Well I wouldn’t say it’s a good plan.” Bonnie responded sardonically.

Elena’s mouth dropped in fake disbelief as she put her diary away.

“This was your idea!”

“You’re the one going through with it! And I mean, Elijah? He’s kind of scary.”

“As opposed to who?” Elena responded with a mirthless laugh. “And he’s not that scary. He’s just… aristocratic."

“No? Oh.” Bonnie teased coyly. “I forgot how well you’re acquainted…" She cocked a brow at Elena's pattering around the room "Are you actually cleaning right now?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” She admitted. “How does one seduce an Original?”

Bonnie started flipped some of the grimoires closed, and Elena looked up nervously at the clock. He would arrive in 30 minutes. Anticipation buzzed through her veins at the thought. Bonnie slid off the bed once the books allowed a path and stood in front of Elena, taking her hands in hers as a show of strength.

“I'm sorry, Elena, this is a big deal. Your first time but it comes with the caveat of saving your life and everybody else's. Not to mention it's happening with a thousand year old vampire. Just be your normal, charming self. This is a common interest of killing Klaus and nothing more.”

“Right,” Elena smiled. Nothing more. Right?

“But-“ Bonnie reached behind her and pulled one of the drawers she’d just shut open and retrieved her hair brush. With a shrug, she handed it to Elena. “Couldn’t hurt.”

Elena smirked and took the hairbrush from her hands, combing it through her locks gently.

・❥・

After Bonnie left, Elena paced for another ten minutes incessantly. She'd brushed her hair, done minimal makeup, but left herself in her usual outfit of jeans and a tank top. Anything else felt like it was trying too hard.

She sat down onto edge of the bed and glanced at her phone. A few messages from Damon and Caroline. Nothing from Stefan. She dropped the phone onto the bed and waited. With each passing minute, she felt her heart beginning to race faster and faster.

This is insane. How is this my life?

The fact that it was happening in her bedroom was even stranger. Elijah had been inside of her house before but this was something else entirely. He'd been perfectly gentlemanly in allowing her to choose the location, but there weren't many options. Elijah had no permanent domicile as of yet, and a hotel room felt too seedy, even the nicest one in town; though he'd even assured her he'd take care of the cost.

Only after she ensured Ric and Jeremy wouldn't be home did she suggest her place, a small level of familiarity in this situation. She wasn't afraid per se, but the way her body reacted to his was jarring. There was something deeply forbidden about it, and she couldn't help but be drawn to it. Being home would help ground her.

His knock came, short and sweet. Elena's heart nearly jumped out of her chest as she stood up and walked down the stairs to let him in. Her fingers curling around the knob, she took one more quiet breath. No going back now.

She opened the door to Elijah standing on her porch, clad in his usual tailored suit. The black fabric looked heavy and luxurious with the way it laid on his shoulders, accentuating his broad frame. The dark shirt he was wearing that afternoon was replaced with a crisp white one, and the tie he wore was black to match the jacket. There was stubble on his jaw, she noticed with a note of appreciation. It gave him a slightly more disheveled look than usual. Her nervousness began to melt away at the sight of his handsome face and his calm demeanour.

He was wearing the same gold ring as before, and she only noticed when she spotted the crimson red rose in his fingers. With a smile, he extended it to her. "Elena."

"Elijah." Elena reached out and took the rose from his hands, giving a slight smirk. "A flower. Very symbolic of you."

Elijah let out a quiet laugh. "I assure you, I meant no such innuendo. It didn't seem right to come without a gift."

"Well, it's beautiful. Please come in."

He stepped in as invited and she shut the door behind him. Now that they were well and truly alone, her heart picked up the pace once more, but she busied her fingers with the stem of the rose so as not to betray it. The man was a thousand years old and undoubtedly had known countless women. Her experience to his could not pale more in comparison. "I'm sorry, this is a bit... overwhelming."

"Undoubtedly."

Elijah stepped towards her slowly, closing the distance between them more than they ever had before. Elena stared upwards at him, her eyes barely at the level of his lips. His gaze was compelling but warm as it fell upon her, and she felt a breath hitch in her lungs at the nearness of him. "I want to make this experience comfortable for you, Elena. Your terms."

Elena nodded slowly, swallowing back her saliva. "Should we go upstairs?"

Elijah inclined his head with a small smile to which Elena smiled back. As intimidating as he could be, he was trying to put her at ease, and she appreciated it. She led the way up the stairs and to her bedroom, Elijah trailing behind. Once upstairs, she placed the rose delicately on the top of the dresser and then turned to face him.

Elijah looked incredibly out of place in her bedroom. Finely dressed and with an air of sophistication only a thousand years on earth could garner, he was like an ancient relic pulled straight from the history books. He looked better suited to a battlefield than a modern-day bedroom. But if he was ill at ease, he certainly never showed it.

His eyes met hers again and Elena's stomach flip-flopped. He had barely even touched her yet, and she was already reacting so viscerally to the vampire in front of her. Again, snapshots of their bodies entwining flashed in her mind like a promise of what was to come. Amusement crossed his chiseled features and he raised a hand to gently place his thumb and forefinger on her chin. "I can hear your heart beating, Elena."

Beating was an understatement. It felt like it was about to pop out of her chest. His touch on her face certainly wasn't helping that matter.

"Are you nervous?"

She thought before answering, their eyes searching each other, trying to gauge the other's feelings. But despite what she'd initially thought... she wasn't. Excitement thrummed within her, her arousal beginning to simmer at the seductive way he seemed to be looking down at her. He knew exactly what kind of power he held, and he enjoyed it. It was unnerving, but it was thrilling.

"No."

"Good. I want you to enjoy yourself, Elena. To let go and give in." To me, his eyes seemed to say. Give in to me completely. She managed a nod but found that words had escaped her completely. Was he moving in closer?

His fingers never dropped from her chin and she had nowhere to look but directly at him. Warmth bloomed from inside her stomach, her body signalling just how much she wanted to give in.

Using his other hand, he lifted a single finger to trace over the curvature of her neck, beginning from her collarbone all the way up to where her jaw began. His finger pressed just so behind her jawbone where her pulse was strongest, and she felt her blood sing in response to him.

"I meant what I said. Your terms. You're in complete control."

"I know..." Closer still. Their lips were a hairsbreadth apart.

"Yes?" She could feel the smile in his lips.

"Yes."

His lips met with hers and she felt herself crumble. His kiss was as captivating as she could've imagined, without a trace of insistence. He was telling the truth; the pace was in her hands. At first, shyness won out. Elena returned the kiss slowly at first, but as her lips deepened, so did his.

His hand had fallen from her face and instead, he pressed his palm to to her mid-back. It dipped no lower. Ever the gentleman, she thought, unable to supress the smile between their kiss.

He seemed to sense her amusement because his hand fell lower not a moment later, placing itself into the small of her back. He pressed her body closer to his, her chest landing flush with his as though he were challenging her.

Something sparked within Elena as the warmth of Elijah's hand spread through her hips. A need to know, a need to discover. She found the courage to touch him back, raising her hands to slip over his shoulders, fingers delicately tracing over the back of his neck. The fabric of his suit was soft to the touch, his skin softer still.

She'd done some things with Matt and Stefan before, but with Elijah, it felt as though she knew nothing at all. In this, she wanted him to take the lead. It seemed he intended to to some degree as both of his hands came down to her waist, the large expanse of his hands burning through her shirt. Desire began to take over, and their kisses grew deeper still. She ran her fingernails along the nape of his neck, coming down to scratch over his shoulders.

His hands pressed into her hips again before he broke the kiss. Elena felt how flushed she was, cheeks pink and lips swollen from his amorousness. She saw a muscle work in his jaw and he regarded her with half-lidded eyes. He raised a graceful hand and indicated towards the bed with a half-smirk.

"Please."

Elena pulled herself away from Elijah and obeyed, sitting on the side of the bed before lying down. Not once did she look away from him as he shrugged his jacket off, then loosened the knot of his tie. Desire pooled in the deepest parts of her at the sign of him so untidy. He looked like every woman's dream as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his white shirt and rolled them up slowly, exposing tanned forearms corded with lean muscle.

He returned to her, eyes appreciatively slipping from her neck downwards to her chest and her hips. "Good girl."

Slowly, he leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss again, his arms on either side of her head. The night had fallen in earnest now, the single lamp she left on providing a faint warm glow in the room. Elijah’s body swallowed her, the broadness of his shoulders and the dimness of the room entombed her in what felt like an eternity of him.

Elena reached up and twirled her fingers around his tie, giving an experimental tug to pull him down closer to her. He chuckled against her mouth and she did it again, pleased with the way his weight settling on her felt.

"Not that good." She whispered against his mouth.

"No? Show me."

Passion reignited, his mouth was suddenly everywhere. On hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, her collarbone, between the valley of her breasts. When his mouth stopped where her shirt ended, his fingers tugged upwards at the bottom of it, and she broke the kiss to pull it over her head.

With practiced ease, he unbuttoned her jeans and began to tug them down. She sat up slightly to help pull them off, then fell back in only her bra and underwear. Just before he could continue, she reached for one of his hands and tentatively placed it between her legs. Elijah raised his brows at her but acquiesced.

One arm outstretched between her thighs, the other bent as he hovered over her, he gazed down at her with darkened eyes. "I think you'll be good for me."

Elena's breathing pitched into a soft moan as she felt Elijah's fingers press against her underwear. Moving softly but with intent, his index and middle finger rubbed upwards, careful to barely brush against her covered clit, just where she needed him most. Her hips shifted at the pleasure, lips parting as another moan escaped her lips. His fingers were trained and precise.

"Won't you?" He asked, and she could hardly piece together a sentence. His voice was deep enough it reverberated in her chest. She felt herself growing wetter and she knew he could feel it too.

"Yes, Elijah."

"Mm."

She reached for his tie again to pull him down into another kiss. In the meantime, his fingers brushed the edge of her underwear aside and as his fingers slipped against her pussy, she gasped into his mouth. Finally, after a few moments, his fingers slowly came to her clit, and she felt every nerve sizzle in her body at the feeling.

He pressed another kiss to her lips as his fingers slowly slipped inside of her, and she suppressed another moan into his mouth. They moved slowly, collecting her wetness and teasing her. Her hips bucked lightly, chasing the feeling.

"So innocent... What do you want, Elena?" His fingers paused over her clit and she let out a soft whine at the cessation.

"I want you to touch me, Elijah. Please."

His touch felt like electricity as his fingers returned to run against her clit, and her body tensed as the pleasure swam through her. She already felt spent and yet he was still fully clothed.

Her hands reached for his shirt, but his hands captured hers before she could even the score. "Not yet. Not until I think you've had enough."

Her head and shoulders fell back onto the bed as his fingers picked up their pace. He alternated between slipping inside of her and pressing his thumb against her clit, until the energy building inside of her threatened to spill over. Her hands found his shoulders and her fingernails dug into his shirt at the pleasure, brow creasing as it threatened to overtake her.

Finally, with one last roll of his fingers, she felt the wave crash into her, sending ripples of sparks down to her very fingers and toes. If he were a mortal man, the grip she had on his body would've left marks. Elijah's mouth swallowed the last of the moans escaping from Elena's lips as his fingers rode out her orgasm, his thumb occasionally brushing against her sensitive clit, causing her to jump.

"I like the sight of you like this, sweet Elena. Undone, writhing. Your pleasure in my hands."

"And yours in mine." She panted.

Elena pushed up on Elijah's shoulders and he allowed it, the positions reversing until she straddled his hips. His hands came up to her waist, gripping it as she slowly rolled them over his. His desire was evident in the bulge of his pants, and it gave her immense satisfaction to know she had the same effect that he did on her.

Her fingers made quick work of his belt, unbuttoning while pressing her hand against the outline of him. He released a quiet groan at the feeling of her touch, and she wanted to hear more. His fingers came away from her hips to divest himself of his tie properly, slipping the satin from around his neck.

She slid from off his hips and stood at the foot of the bed, leaning over to tug him towards her by the loop of his trousers. He stood, his shirt half unbuttoned and creased, and his belt hanging around his hips. Elena felt herself grow wetter as she sank to her knees in front of him, and he watched with dark eyes as she began to pull his trousers and underwear down, just low enough to release his cock.

He was long and thick in her hand, and his head fell back as she leaned forward and licked a trail from shaft to tip. Slowly, she took him into her mouth, licking and sucking his heavy length until she could take him no more.

A deep growl emanated from Elijah’s chest, his hand coming up to rest against the back of her head. He let her set the pace, but his fingers knotted themselves in her hair as she swirled her tongue around his tip, tasting every last inch of him.

“You wicked little thing.” He sighed, his jaw clenching and his muscle tensing. She could see he desperately wanted to move his hips, but stayed in full control as she pressed him deeper into her mouth.

She placed her hands on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his trousers to give herself more balance, and she felt his fingers brush the hair away from her face and behind her ear before lightly collecting it into his grip. The small gesture made her heart skip as she set a quick rhythm.

He groaned again in pleasure, allowing himself a few more moments before delicately tugging on her hair to bring her back up to standing position. In a flash, the moment she stood, he had her trapped against the wall, his chest pressing into her shoulder blades. Her fingers bent and scratched against the wall, seeking purchase as her lungs seemed to give out. His scent enveloped her. His mouth was hot against her ear.

“So innocent and yet so wicked. So ready to be defiled. Will you give into me, Elena?” Give in, her mind whispered.

She found herself pushing back against the wall to be closer to him, the outline of his body providing delicious heat against hers. She felt his strength emanating from every muscle, both hands pressed on either side of her. Using one hand, he tilted her jaw until her neck was exposed to him. For a moment, she thought he would drink from her, but instead, he placed gentle half-kiss-half-bites along the slope of her neck. His hand then dipped to her back where he quickly unhooked her bra and slipped it off her shoulders. Her underwear was tugged down until it fell. Goosebumps rose all over her skin at the thought of being fully naked in front of Elijah Mikaelson.

“I want to give in, Elijah. Give me all of you.”

Her back was pressed into the mattress before she realized, her body softly settling on the bed. Elijah undid the last of the buttons on his shirt and pulled off his trousers.

“So beautiful.” He murmured, his hand coming up to cup her breast, thumb tracing over her pebbled nipple. Elena sighed at the feeling.

Elijah’s body was just as beautiful, she thought. The expanse of his chest was strong, his abdomen and arms both lean with taut muscle. A deep V-line followed into his hips, his cock erect.

Just as their lips moved to reconnect, Elena’s eyes met his again. Suddenly, this became more than just breaking a ritual. Both were entrenched in their desire, desperate to for release in the other’s body. Nervousness bubbled up inside of her again as she realized it was time. Everything else she had done before, but not this. She knew generally what to expect of sex, but certainly not when it came to a thousand year old vampire being her first.

“I’ll be gentle.”

Elena nodded at his kind words, fingers reaching up to his shoulders again. He balanced on one arm as the other reached out to touch her slick heat, and instantly, she felt the unreleased desire come flooding back. Satisfied, Elijah slowly guided himself between her legs.

Her chest arched upwards at the feeling. Heat spread from her hips as her pussy stretched to accommodate his length. True to his word, he moved slowly as he rolled his hips towards her, sinking deeper into her with every breath. She could feel him gauging her reaction and moving only so long as she allowed it.

Elena felt as though she might burst from the feeling, her breathing devolving into moans as he settled himself to the hilt inside of her. One of her legs was bent, the other laid straight, and one of his hands gripped her thigh as he used the other to balance himself over her, watching her face.

Once the burn of the stretch passed, pleasure began to trickle in. He felt immense inside of her, overwhelming in every aspect of his body as he stilled his hips against hers.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes- yes.” Her eyes fluttered closed.

“Does it feel good, Elena?”

He slowly rolled his hips back and she let out an involuntarily moan at the feeling of him moving inside of her. When he rolled his hips forward again, pleasure erupted from within her, and her nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

“Yes, yes!“

Elijah pressed a kiss to her lips, and obeyed. He set a slow but sensual rhythm to his hips as he moved in and out of her with deliberate care. Any discomfort long forgotten, Elena felt her own hips moving in tandem, hissing in delight at the friction their hips created.

He chuckled at her reaction. “So good for me.”

The praise was like an extra douse of kerosene to the flame.

“Please, Elijah- more.”

“More what? Hm?”

All the while, he never stopped moving, his hips picking up a faster pace. In that moment, the hand resting on her thigh slipped between their two entwined bodies. His fingers immediately located her clit, and the combination of him pumping in and out of her, and his thumb pad rolling against her clit, her moan nearly turned into a scream. She could hardly think past her own name.

“Use your words, Elena. Tell me what you want.”

But she couldn’t. Her body shook with pleasure, her nails digging crescent shaped impressions into his skin.

“I’m so close, please…”

His fingers and hips slowed down ever so slightly, and she whined at the feeling of her release slowly ebbing away.

“Do you want more?” He asked again.

“Yes.” Her voice was thick with desperation. All she could think about was the way his hips moved in between her thighs. The length of him hit all of the most inner parts, sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine. She wanted more of anything he would give her.

He slowly pulled out of her, releasing his grip on her and flipped their positions once more. He kneeled behind her on the bed while she lay flat on her stomach, then he slowly moved until his body hovered over hers.

She pressed her thighs together, trying to gain back some friction, frustrated at the loss of him. She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder blade and in the same moment, he lifted her hips and slowly slid back into her.

She gasped at the feeling, her hips rising to meet his, and he settled back onto his knees, gripping her hips as he set a quicker pace. She felt herself dripping between her thighs, moans slipping past her lips as Elijah thrusted in and out.

She was desperate for release, and as his hips stuttered a bit, she knew he was too. He reached forward for her, pulling her back towards him until her back was pressed to his chest once more. One arm encircled her waist while the other hand reached for her clit. She nearly folded at the feeling, but his arm kept her to him, and suddenly she was right at the precipice of her release once more.

“Will you be good for me, Elena?”

She managed a nod, fingers digging into his forearm. His cock and fingers were relentless against her, and she felt like she was about to scream.

“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Elijah, I’m so- so close.”

“So good...” He murmured. “Cum for me.”

The pleasure erupted inside of her, her hips stuttering and her pussy clenching around him as she reached the brink of orgasm. Elijah groaned at the feeling of her coming undone around him, his hand falling away from her clit. He gripped her to him and thrusted inside of her a handful more times before spilling inside of her. Elena relished in the feeling of him in those last moments before he released her.

It was done.

Elena collapsed onto the bed with Elijah close by, unable to move, to think, even to breathe. He shifted himself over so as not to crush her, the pair panting deeply in the thralls of their desire.

The phrase total loss of purity echoed in her mind as she opened her eyes and looked upon Elijah. The shameless way she begged for him, the way her hips moved in search of him. She had corrupted herself entirely. Defiled by an Original.

In more ways than one, they were linked together forever.

After a minute, their breathing settled into silence.

“Do you think it’ll work?” She whispered.

Elijah looked over at her, sitting up slightly. He raised a hand to gently move one of the strands of her hair away from her face. It felt as intimate as anything they'd just done. The heat having died down between them, there was nothing left to do but face the music.

"I have long learned to keep hope at bay whenever Niklaus is involved."

Elena nodded. Of course he was right, but she tried not to look too concerned. He seemed to notice.

"I hope you don't regret this night too deeply if it does not. I recognize what a sacrifice this must've been for you."

Elena shook her head, mirroring him as she slowly sat up as well.

"I don't regret it, Elijah."

He smiled softly, and she returned it.

"Neither do I."

・❥・

The next morning after Elijah left, Damon arrived at her house. She could tell he was relieved that she was indeed alive, but simultaneously annoyed at having been ignored. He wore his usual leather jacket, black jeans and boots, with a few strands of black hair falling into his eyes. She couldn't help but compare the two men that were at her door just a few hours apart. A leather jacket and a suit.

"Oh good, you're still standing. Would've been nice to know." He raised his cellphone up as he crossed the threshold. "You know these nifty little things called cellphones? I called like three times."

She'd passed out almost immediately after Elijah had left, though she'd only been able to sleep a few hours before she couldn't ignore Damon any longer.

"Sorry, I just fell asleep. Bonnie and I were going through some old grimoires trying to find something." I hope that's convincing enough. She'd even made sure to shower and change after Elijah had left, not wanting Damon to risk sensing anything had been awry. She led him upstairs back up to her bedroom, desperate to go back to sleep.

"And? Did our witchy encyclopedia find anything?"

"She did, actually."

"Mhm. I bet."

Elena looked over at Damon with a raised brow at his suspicion and he met it with a smirk.

"You hatched a plan, didn't you?" He did the eye thing. Elena blinked and turned away, giving a noncommittal shrug.

"Not really. It was barely a plan."

"Fine, don't tell me." Damon closed the space between them with a single stride until he was looking down at Elena. He gave another smirk. "Just promise me it wasn't anything stupid."

Elena smiled. "You have my w- I mean, I promise."

Damon nodded once, then reached over her shoulder to grab something from her dresser. Elena's heart dropped when Elijah's red rose came into view. Damon twirled it between his fingers with narrowed eyes and a crooked smile.

"What's this, then?"

・❥・

Fin.

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries fic #tvd fic #tvd fanfic #elijah mikaelson #elena gilbert #elejah #elena x elijah #tvd smut #elijah mikaelson x elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson smut #elena gilbert smut #tvd au #tvd au fic #tvd smut au

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cottoncandyafterdark · 4 months

Text

Senku Discovering Reader is a Mermaid (Drabble)

Fandom: Dr Stone

Character(s): Senku Ishigami

Warnings: None

Notes: Requested by LadyIshtar on ao3! Well, they requested this premise with a few other characters too, and I will write those at some point, I am working on them, but it's been forever since I've posted anything on ao3, so I figured I'd just go ahead and post Senku's, which I finished a bit ago, just to like, prove I'm alive lol. Thanks for your patience by the way, everyone, my classes are over for the semester so I'm gonna try to write more often for the next few months til they start again! Enjoy!

Senku stared. Just... Stared. You weren't sure you'd ever seen him so speechless before.

"Um..." You laughed nervously. "Surprise...? I, um, wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't know how, I didn't really think you'd believe me...."

He blinked quickly, and finally seemed to snap back to reality.

"You were right, I wouldn't have believed you, if you'd told me instead of showing me. But..." He approached and placed a hand on your tail. "This is real." He ran his hands over the scales, and you couldn't help but shudder a bit. "Either that, or you spent hours upon hours making it look and feel real as hell to trick me into looking stupid."

"It is real-!" You started to protest, but Senku laughed.

"I know. You wouldn't do that, you're much too sweet to pull that kind of prank." He chuckled again and you blushed, but he quickly shifted back to an intense look of curiosity and analysation, trying to put everything together in his head- you smiled. Senku really never did change.

"So. How does it work?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a lot of things, but let's start with the fact that you usually have legs. Currently you have a fish tail. How do you do that?"

You shrugged. "It just happens naturally when I'm submerged in water."

"Hm." He ran a finger down the middle of your tail, almost like he was looking for a seam- there was none, of course. You twitched a little, not used to the sensation of someone touching the tail you've worked so hard to keep hidden, though it wasn't unpleasant. It kind of felt nice, actually, in the same way that someone running their fingers through your hair would. "Does it hurt?"

"No, not at all. It just wears off after a little while when I dry off."

"Interesting...." He knit his eyebrows together further, surely already trying to figure out exactly how that could possibly work.

You almost didn't want to say it, but you had to- "Honestly, Senku, I think it's just magic."

Senku, to your surprise, laughed. "You know, they used to call lightning strikes and solar eclipses "magic", too. Once we understand how it happens, it stops being magic, and starts being science. Which is why you're coming back to the lab with me as soon as you get your legs back."

His enthusiasm was infectious. You couldn't help but smile a little bit too, although the idea of being analyzed and experimented on made you... A bit nervous. But it was Senku. You knew he'd never hurt you. "Just remember that I'm your partner, Senku, not a science experiment," you gently chided him anyways, just to keep him on-track.

"Of course , I couldn't forget that. But can you blame me for being curious?"

"No, of course. I wouldn't expect anything else from you." You smiled up at him, and he finally looked up from your tail to give you a reassuring smile back. It almost felt silly, now, that you'd put off telling him the truth about yourself for so long. You really shouldn't have expected anything else.

#dcst #dr stone #dr stone x reader #dcst fic #senku x reader #ishigami senku #mermaid!reader

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halfmoth-halfman · 4 months

Text

Leaving this blog.

With my mini-series finishing up soon, I've decided to leave this blog as well as my AO3 account once it’s finished. This is not a decision I've made lightly, but circumstances have left this a place where I no longer feel safe.

As of now, I won't be deactivating this blog and will be leaving my fics up for anyone who'd still like to read them. I can't say this decision won't change later, but right now I feel that I've put too much work into this blog to simple delete it.

Below the cut is an explanation of why I'm making this decision, and what has been happening on this blog since the end of last year. It's not required to read or anything to understand the gist of this post; it's simply for my own peace of mind knowing that I spoke up about it. There will be topics that are possibly triggering such as harassment, threats, and racism so please mind the warnings and tags.

The mini-series is queued to finish next week, but there will be no more fic polls or wip wednesdays. I'll still be on here to make sure the queue does its job, and maybe post some stuff from my old drafts as a last bit of fun.

I'll have dms tentatively open for the next two-ish weeks for those who'd like to follow my new account, however I will not be answering anything from empty blogs. After that, asks and dms will be turned off, and I won't be coming back to this blog very often, if at all.

I cannot say thank you enough to the wonderful readers I've had and the amazing people I've met. I don't think I would've ever continued writing without your support and friendship. There's nothing I can do to show my appreciation for all of you.

Maybe we'll see each other again. If not, I hope your inspiration is always flowing, and 2024 treats you kindly.

Mothie 💜

Again, TW: rape/death threats, violent racism, repeated harassment, and mental health.

Back in November, I started getting rude, mean-spirited anons. It wasn't anything I was too bothered with because it didn't happen often and, honestly, my inbox gets flooded for a week or so anytime I post about certain topics. I blocked, deleted, reported and moved on thinking whoever it was would get bored and leave.

However, what started as a few rude anons calling me a bitch or stupid turned into a lot of anons being vile and racist which only worsened over the next few months.

I spoke about it in this post (link) near the end of November. In that post, I mentioned that those were the nicer asks and that was not an exaggeration. I have gotten my fair share of shitty anons as seen here (link) when I had to take a break from my blog because of said anons, but I have never gotten the amount of vitriol that I saw in these asks.

When I turned anon off, I started getting even worse messages from empty blogs that would either be blocked or deactivate within a week. When I turned my askbox off, I started getting hateful DMs. When I turned DMs off, it jumped from Tumblr to my other social medias which I had to private, completely avoid, or outright delete.

I got messages attacking my writing, calling me slurs, threatening to find me and rape or kill me, sending me explicit porn and rape videos while insulting my sexuality, and going into gross detail about how much people I interacted with hated me or how I would never be as good as them. I tried to power through it, pretending everything was fine while I pulled away from this blog, from writing, from friends that I loved and talked to every day. Everything about this blog, the fandoms I enjoyed, the people I talked to, made me so anxious because of these constant messages.

I took several breaks while dealing with this in therapy, repeatedly trying to come back and get comfortable on this blog, but within a few days of coming back the messages would start up again, either here or on any of my social medias I tried to unprivate, and I couldn't deal with it.

Only in the last week or two has it started to slow down and stop on a few of my other socials, which is the only reason I even feel comfortable making this post. However, in regards to this blog and my feelings toward it, the damage is done.

I don't think I can ever truly convey how isolating this has been. So many of these messages were about how I've spoken about my struggles as a black woman in fandom, how much of a burden it puts on the people who interact with me, how inferior I am to them and that I am everything that's wrong with fandom.

I felt scared and anxious to talk to anyone about this, especially people mentioned in those messages, out of fear that this harassment would jump to them. There are friendships that I stepped away from that I will never get back because of that. There are friends that I've felt like I was betraying by never telling them about what was happening because I felt too ashamed about letting this get to me.

I constantly worried that making a post like this would feel like, "Oh, Mothie's whining and trauma-dumping into the void about fandom racism again", that those messages would be right and it would force people to feel like they had to support me. Or worse, that people would agree and it would only make things worse. I've wrestled with so much guilt trying to decide to make this post and figure out what to do to make me trust myself again.

Ultimately, I don't think I was wrong for talking about my issues in fandom, and I don't think anything I've said has warranted this kind of harassment. I don’t know the who’s or why’s behind of this, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never really know. Truthfully, I'm not sure it even matters at this point. In the end, I think moving on from this blog entirely would be the best thing for me right now.

But, man, does it fucking suck.

This was the blog where I felt comfortable enough to start writing again, to start posting my fics. It's the blog where I met so many friends, got the courage to join new communities, found new hobbies, new music, new things to enjoy in life. It feels silly to say about a blog, but this was a place where I felt like I was able to carve out a space for myself. I put so much work into making it my own, and now the only thing I feel about it is anxious.

Hate messages and threats and racism have always been a part of fandom, and the internet as a whole. I’ve known since I started participating in fandom spaces that it was going to and continue to happen. I've known that I had to have a tough skin, especially if I ever spoke up about problems I faced because no one was going to have my back if I didn't have my own. I thought I had learned how to deal with it, and how to make a safe space for myself. But this goes beyond that. I did not deserve this. No one deserves this.

In some ways, it feels like admitting defeat, like I'm weak or hypocritical for not being as strong as I pretended I was and leaving. In other ways, it feels freeing to start over, and I'm choosing to view look at this optimistically even if it bittersweet. I don't want to let this scare me away from writing or from speaking about things that are important to me. All I can do now is say I'm so incredibly sorry to those I've hurt by stepping away or keeping this secret, and make sure I'm able to at least leave this blog on as happy a note as I can have.

#moth talks #tw: rape #tw: racism #tw: mental health #tw: misogyny #tw: harassment #tw: death threats

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trensu · 21 days

Note

do you think you'll put "Stasis in darkness" on AO3 eventually?

see, when the idea first came to me, I hadn't really planned on doing anything with it because I wasn't sure if I could make it work. there's a level of gravitas in the relationship between a god and their devoted servant that I didn't think would translate well to steddie because, let's be real, those boys are goofy dorks. but the idea wouldn't leave me alone so I typed up the original post in an attempt to work it out of my system and move on.

(the post kind of blew up, which I was not expecting at all!! like, not even a little bit! i post all sorts of rough little ideas for my own amusement and I've been able to do that without drawing much attention until that point.)

Anyway, I wouldn't have done much with it but @acowardinmordor left some comments/tags/what have you that helped me nail down the setting in my head which really opened the door for me to explore how the story could progress. (apologies, strife, I'm not sure I ever properly thanked you for that burst of inspiration, so please accept this shoutout as an expression of gratitude). And the amazing @ent-is-indecisive allowed me to rant about it which really helped flesh out the story. Seriously, there are elements and lore coming up that would not have existed if it weren't for ent. (and thank you once again ent for the ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL fanart you made for the reveal scene, I'm still overcome with joy whenever I think about it!).

Once it got to that point, I knew I wanted it to be a self-contained story and I was afraid that if I did a multi-chapter fic I'd lose the thread and never make it to the ending I want the fic to have. (no, the end scene hasn't been written yet but I KNOW what it's going to be and I hope everyone will love it as much as i do). So I promised myself that I was not going to post it on ao3 until the whole thing was written out completely.

However, I occasionally need a confidence/motivation boost so I've been posting consecutive parts of the rough draft here. you have no idea how much the people who reblogged with tags or left comments have helped me fight off the discouragement my brain likes to bog me down with; off the top of my head, @godsweakestboy , @redfreckledwolf, @fuctacles , @spectrum-spectre , and @lawrencebshoggoth have given me lovely, enthusiastic words of encouragement. and they're only the ones I can think of at this moment. there's so many other people who've done this, so if you've ever left me nice tags or comments, please know that I've read every single one of them repeatedly whenever I need to get over a slump. I'm so grateful for all of you!

Anyway, all this is to say yes! It is going to be posted as a oneshot on ao3 once I've finished writing it. <3

#trensu replies #trensu tells stories #stasis in darkness #okay you probably didn't need that whole rant in response to your very simple and straightforward question #the response got away from me a bit #ill admit it #its just that i kinda feel bad that i cant work on it as frequently as id like #for one thing i didnt have a laptop for the last two or three months #but mostly it's because i have carpal tunnel and a full time job that requires i type for most of every shift #this means that writing fic usually results in me experiencing quite a bit of pain if i let myself write for as long as i actually want to #hows that saying go #the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak?#so it might take a while before the fic makes it to ao3 but it WILL get there sooner or later #(and there's still one or two more chapters i need to write to finish off the second installment of hawkins halfway house on ao3 also oof)

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farfromstrange · 7 months

Text

Lizzi’s Valentine’s Special & Follower Celebration

Dear Everyone,

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and I thought, since this silly little blog hit over 1.1k followers yesterday, I want to give you something special.

First of all, though, I want to thank you. I’ve been on here since (and I checked with the archive) July 19, 2022. I can't believe that it has been almost two years. I started watching Daredevil after watching Spider-Man: No Way Home in December of 2021 and hearing Matt Murdock say, "I'm a really good lawyer," after catching a brick. So, I started watching the show, and that was during a time I was really miserable. Mentally and physically, I wasn't in a good place, but after watching Daredevil for the first time and falling in love with Charlie Cox as a genuine person and an actor, it felt like I found a reason to keep going.

I started writing fanfiction again, which I kind of neglected because I felt like this hobby of mine wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't inspired at all until I watched the show. If I hadn't, I probably would not have gotten back into writing and using it as an outlet for my feelings, and I probably wouldn't be where I am today. Thanks to Charlie's portrayal of Matt Murdock, and watching his interviews, I felt like I could do the things that I love again and follow my dreams. He's the reason I chose to major in English. And while I owe him that much, I owe you guys here on Tumblr and AO3 even more.

When I first posted here, I didn't think people would even be interested in what I had to say and write. But then more and more people started visiting my profile, you guys started following me, and it kept me motivated to keep writing, even when I'm miserable, and I sometimes only post once every blue moon.

I feel so honored that you guys chose to follow a silly little blog run by a silly little 20-something-year-old whose first language isn't even English (but made it her entire personality), and who chose to write about traumatized dark-haired characters portrayed by Charlie Cox. I'm overwhelmed by the love you continue to show me, and every time one of you chooses to reblog or comment on one of my works, saying that it resonated with you, I feel like I'm doing something right. I'm sharing my ideas, my own experiences, my wishes, and even my deepest, darkest dreams through my writing like it's a fucking diary, and you eat it up every single time.

I'm just so glad that this community exists, as chaotic as it sometimes is, and that you chose to stick around, even when I suck at keeping promises sometimes. You keep teaching me new things about who I am, my writing, and how important it is to put myself first. I don't know if you've heard it lately, but you guys are incredible and I appreciate the hell out of every single one of you.

Thanks to Tumblr, I made lifelong friends (especially looking at you, @blackshadowswriter) and found like-minded people that made me feel less alone. That alone was worth making this account and continuing to post on here.

You may think that I'm being dramatic, but for someone who has never really experienced the kind of validation this community gives me, I want to celebrate this milestone. It means more to me than I can even put into words. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I love you all so much! Please, don't ever forget how amazing you are.

That being said, I've got some exciting things planned.

The other day, I found a folder in my Docs titled "the vault". I completely forgot about it because I usually keep my WIPs in a different folder. As it turns out, I made that folder for fics that I originally never planned to post, or ones that I'd finished but wasn't happy with. It’s many, but it’s a few. Some are deeper than others. I also jotted down rough ideas and outlines last year that I stuffed in there, some of which I've actually shared with you but never started working on. Until now. And the contents of that vault are what I want to give to you now.

INTRODUCING: The Vault

6 stories from the vault. 1 bonus fic. 7 days.

I went through a myriad of emotions while I wrote these. For some, I actually bled my soul onto paper. For others, it was merely a brain fart that led to their existence. They're sad, horny, and at times angry, but some of those were originally written for me, and only me. Those that weren't started as a few sentences in a folder before I forgot they existed. Either way, I don't want them to catch dust. And I wouldn't want to share them with anyone else.

Starting February 14th, I will be posting one fic every day until February 20th. My “The Vault” works are Matt Murdock x Reader works, but I've made an exception for the bonus fic. I won't tell you what they are about, but I will give you a list of installments and what kind of fic they are so you know what to be excited about (and maybe which ones are not your cup of tea).

-> The number at the end tells you the date I will be posting it on, but I put it in chronological order as well.

INSTALLMENTS:

1. If You Need To Be Mean (angst, hurt/comfort) 14.

2. Mismatched Bridesmaid (fluff, smut) 15.

3. Weed Cookies (humor, fluff, cw: accidental drug use) 16.

4. the grudge (songfic, angst, hurt/comfort, cw: death of a parent) 17.

5. Halloween (Smut) 18.

6. I Want To Fuck A Priest (Smut, cw: priest!Matt) 19.

BONUS:

7. Now That We Don’t Talk (Part 2 of Is It Over Now?) -> Frank Castle x Reader (smut, angst) 20.

A few more words: You are free to send me an ask if you want to know more, but be prepared that I won't be answering in much detail. I don't want to spoil the fun. I would, however, not mind talking about them as vaguely as possible (if you’re interested).

Thank you all. For everything. And I hope you stick around to read these little gems.

With love from yours truly,

Lizzi <3

#lizzi writes #follower celebration #valentine’s day #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #frank castle x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #charlie cox

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daredvssy · 2 years

Text

Stress

I thought I wasn't going to be able to finish this tonight, but by some unknown power, I managed to complete it. I hope you all enjoy this silly little bit of smut I wrote instead of travelling to campus today!

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here! :)

Ship: Papa Emeritus IV x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2050

Warnings: smut, male receiving oral sex, face-fucking, praise, thigh riding. Idk what to tell you it's all incredibly self-indulgent.

You found Copia in his office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. You gently rapped on the doorframe to alert him to your presence. The soft noise drew his attention, and he sat up promptly in an attempt to regain the dignified demeanor he felt he should possess as Papa.

When he realized you had been the source of the knocking, he relaxed somewhat, a soft, weary smile gracing his features.

"Hello mi amore," he greeted you. "Please, come in." You made your way over to his desk, quietly closing the door to his office behind you. He leaned back in his plush office chair and opened his arms to you, a wordless invitation to sit in his lap that you accepted immediately. His arms enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you in your place on his lap. You placed a quick kiss on his jaw. This earned another smile from Copia, although it was not enough to disguise his complete and utter exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you asked him, concerned. "You seem very tired."

He sighed deeply, his brow creasing as he gave up trying to conceal what was already so obvious to you: he was worn out.

"I am tired," he agreed. "My work seems to be neverending recently. My predecessors never made it seem like being Papa was so much work!"

"Maybe it wasn't," you mused aloud, reflecting on the habits of the first three Papa's. "They all put in the necessary work as Papa, and I know they were certainly all known to spend a lot of time partying, but the band has never been so popular as it is now. The Ghost Project has never been more successful than it is under you my love, it's only natural that the workload would increase."

He nodded in consideration; you raised a point that was pretty difficult to ignore.

"I suppose this is true," he agreed, "And I am very grateful. But it is getting to the point where I can hardly manage it on my own. Nearly all of my waking hours are consumed by my work. I haven't even been able to eat with you once this week! Cara mia I feel as though I have hardly seen you at all!" He complained, practically pouting.

You leaned up to place a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling softly.

"While admittedly, I miss you too, I fully understand. You worked so hard to become Papa, I know how important it is to you," you said.

“Cuore mia you are important to me too,” he argued. “My work is not more important to me than you are.”

“I know, Copia,” you acknowledged, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. “But I don’t resent that you’re busy. I know that people are depending on you."

“I still wish I could spend more time with you,” he grumbled.

“I know. But we’re spending time together now, right?” you reasoned. “And if you'd like, I can bring dinner here tonight, and eat with you while you work?"

Your offer drew another smile out of Copia, slightly bigger this time.

"I'd like that very much, amore," he said. "But still, I wish I could give you my full attention, like you deserve. I regret that you will have to settle for sharing my attention with my work."

"I'm sorry that you're so tired and stressed, Copia. I wish there was something I could do to help," you lamented, nodding pensively.

"Just you being here helps more than you know," he told you earnestly, his mismatched eyes meeting your own. "It's nice to be able to feel you like this. I feel like it has been so long since I've been able to touch you."

His voice betrayed a thinly veiled longing, a hunger even. Truthfully, it had been some time since the last time the two of you had been together in any way that could be considered sexual or intimate. He often spent his whole day working, with you only seeing him briefly each night as he returned to his quarters, crawling into bed beside you and passing out quickly. It was unusual for the two of you, to say the least. This planted the beginnings of an idea in your head. You may not be able to lighten his workload, but maybe there was something you could do to make him feel a little bit better, for now.

"You know… I have an idea that I think might just make you feel a little bit better, Papa," you told him. There was a playfulness to your tone, that when combined with the use of his title made him raise his eyebrows at you suspiciously.

"Oh yeah? And what's this idea?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes slightly. You could tell he had already an idea of the direction your thoughts were heading. Instead of answering him verbally, you decided to spring into action.

You quickly repositioned yourself in his lap, twisting in his loose hold until you were straddling him. Before he had the chance to even attempt to say anything, you captured his lips in a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair.

While your previous kiss had been soft and chaste, this one was nothing of the sort. This was a kiss full of heat, designed to stoke the fire that was always burning, just beneath the surface with him. Always quick to succumb to his own carnal desires, Copia melted into the kiss, a moan catching in the back of his throat as he accepted the desire you breathed into him where your mouths met.

When you eventually pulled away for some air, his chest was heaving, and his mismatched eyes bored into your own. The black paint on his lips had begun to smudge around the edges, only adding to his now disheveled appearance.

"Will you let me help you relax? Just for a little bit?" You asked him, sucking a mark onto his neck as you awaited his answer.

"I don't have much time," he began, and then interrupted himself with a moan as you laved your tongue over the mark you had just made, his hips bucking up into you. "But I suppose…” He trailed off. “I suppose I can make a little time for this. Yes," he decided.

A lascivious grin spread across your face.

"Good," you cooed, pressing a palm to his chest, wordlessly urging him to relax back into his seat. "You always work so hard, you're so good at what you do. You deserve to relax Papa, let me take care of you."

He watched you through heavily lidded eyes as you slid off his lap and onto the floor, gently urging his legs apart. His breath started to come in shallow puffs as you dragged your palm over his hardening bulge, pulling apart the laces of his pants with a practiced ease. You made to remove his pants, and he raised his hips a little to help you ease them down his hips enough to free his cock from its tight confinement. It was fully erect at this point, the tip a rosy shade of pink and beginning to leak a bit of precum.

You looked him directly in the eye as your tongue darted out quickly to lap it up. He let out a strangled noise at that, his gloved hand coming down to gently rest on the back of your head, gently threading his fingers through your hair.

You kissed and sucked a wet trail down his length, all the way to the base and then back up again, enjoying the needy little noises the action coaxed out of him. Then, after checking to make sure that his eyes were still on you, you slowly took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Cazzo,” he gasped, taking in a shuddering breath. “Always so good to me,” he moaned as you took him even deeper into your mouth, moaning around him at the praise. You gradually worked your way up and down his cock, taking in more and more of his considerable length with each bob of your head.

You brought one hand up to gently caress his balls, and he bucked his hips up involuntarily at the extra stimulation. The shock of the motion gagged you a little, and he tried to pull you off of him, instantly apologetic.

Instead of letting him, you relaxed your throat and swallowed him down in his entirety. A high, desperate whine escaped him. You clenched your thighs together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache that was steadily growing between them.

You pulled off of him for a brief moment to take a deep breath. You spoke, your voice sounding ragged, desperate even.

“Use me, Papa,” you pleaded with him. Copia required no further invitation than this. With a deep groan, his grip on your hair tightened, and he began to thrust up into your mouth at a desperate pace. You moaned around him, letting him use you to chase the pleasure he so deserved.

As he continued to thrust into you, a litany of curses and praises flowed out of him.

“Such a good fucking girl, letting your Papa use you like this, so fucking perfect for me,” he moaned. You could tell Copia was getting close when the rhythm of his thrusts into your mouth started to become erratic. You hollowed your cheeks around him as he fucked your mouth, humming a little around his length. The vibrations from this alone were enough to throw him over the edge.

As the first spurt of his cum hit the back of your throat, he practically yelped. Resuming control of the situation, you took him in as deep as you could, moaning and swallowing around him as he rode out his very intense orgasm.

When he finally came down from his high, you pulled off of his length gingerly, bringing up a hand to wipe at your mouth. Your breath was coming in heavy pants as you stared up at him. His gloved hand came down to cup your jaw, and you leaned into the touch automatically.

"Come here, bella," he said, patting his thigh in invitation with his free hand. You didn't wait to be told twice, climbing back up into his lap as he guided you so you were straddling one of his thighs.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss, his hands coming down to your hips, sliding up under your skirt and encouraging you to grind down onto his thigh.

He broke the kiss, leaning back just enough to look at you. He continued to guide your hips in a steady rhythm, the worn fabric of his pants catching on your clit just right, sending lightning shocks of pleasure through your entire body. As worked up as you already were, it didn’t take much time at all before you could feel tension ramping up in your core. You buried your face in his neck, a high, pathetic noise escaping you as your legs began to shake.

"That's it, amore," he encouraged. "Cum for your Papa, just like that.” You were powerless to disobey his command. Your release washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping and crying out as you twitched in his lap, your vision going blank with the intense pleasure. Copia held you through it, whispering praise into your ear as you came down from it, catching your breath.

When you met his eyes again, a warm and goofy smile was plastered on his face. He gazed back at you fondly.

“Thank you, cara mia. I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Of course you deserve me, Copia. I love you,” you stated plainly. “Anyways,” you asked, unable to help returning his smile. “Did it work? Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh, yes amore. I feel infinitely better than I did before,” he replied.

“Good,” you said, your smile growing even wider. “Now give me a minute to recover and I will go see about getting us that food. I don’t think my legs will work properly just yet.”

#ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost #papa iv #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus iv smut #cardinal copia smut

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perfectlysanexd · 19 days

Text

So, what have I been up to...? Since I was in Tumblr's spam-bot prison for more than 5 months, I thought I would create a little ICYMI post. (That's "In-Case-You-Missed-It" for the old folks like myself that have to look up all these new acronyms.) Basically, I'm gonna highlight/link to some of the posts I made this year, and you can check them out if you like. :) I didn't want to necessarily do a bunch of reblogs of my own content and clog up the system or something...

I finished posting up my 100's of edited screenshots from Advent Children Complete! You can view the archive of 53 different posts, separated by character, here. It also includes a fun side post about the Mysterious Case of Sephiroth's Missing Straps. :3

I confess, I haven't made too many wallpapers this year. But it's September now, and I have a thought rolling around in my head. We'll see. The archive of wallpapers is here.

Speaking of, so many cool wallpapers came out for Ever Crisis, and I've posted them all! Find them here, at the bottom of this archive post. I swear I'll eventually beat TFS season 1, but...they sure made it difficult for people who don't purchase their packs.

Did you know that Tumblr is feeding your posts(including reblogs) to theird party AI? Well, they are, and you can set it to be prevented in your settings. I talked about it here.

Rebirth coming out was the biggest thing this year, and I made my first manipulation for it back in March! You can see the post here, as well as a simple tutorial for it using GIMP(GNU Image Manipulation Program, free at gimp.org) here.

I also made a second manipulation for Rebirth! If you want to see the additional dialogue that goes with it, that's here.

When I played the demo for Rebirth, I noticed that they had changed Sephiroth's eyes, and it reminded me of something...

Did you know that in Advent Children, Sephiroth's gloves are not as tight as in Remake and you can see his wrists? 😏Check it out! What? Of course this is important!

I took a look at Sephiroth and all his forms over the years. Then I did the same for Cloud.

My AO3 sefikura work In Death was finished on April 26th, and came with a special manipulation. That was also the first story where I was accused of writing non-con, when it obviously wasn't, so that was fun. If you need to hydrate, you can go drink that tea in the comments of, I think, chapter 16 and after. Several people have asked about a sequel, and I do have eventual plans. Hang in there.

I made my first(of many) Rebirth memes, which also came with a blank template.

A peek under Sephiroth's jacket, courtesy of Rebirth. 😏Yes, this is important, obviously.

Another Rebirth meme, featuring Sephiroth being badass.

I put my design for Lucrecia's locket onto my edited EC Sephiroth artwork! This one actually got a lot of notes thanks to reblogging. 💕I also put the locket on Sephiroth's EC in-game model.

I wrote a long one-shot as a thank you for 400+ followers! It's based on my most popular sefikura manipulation of all time—a very indulgent work, and my first time writing for Rebirth. Thanks, guys!

Another meme, haha...oops, and another one. Damn, another one? AND a Sephiroth/Cloud arms-crossed companion meme set?

I did another Rebirth manipulation, this time of the famous sefikura hug scene. I added a second part to it here. AND a third part to it here! This set has quickly become one of my favorites. I also gave it some Japanese dialogue+translation here.

I did a little PSA because I've seen a lot of awfully suspicious digital paintings lately...

I made an account on Twitter/X, just in case they never fixed my blog, so if you're over there, follow me @ perfectlysane77 and say hi. :)

The FF7 crew have super hearing, confirmed??

Do you play Ever Crisis and want to join a sefikura guild? Check here. All skill levels are welcome, and you don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to.

My first ever edited Rebirth video: "Fill your hollow heart...with me-ow."

And now I've been released from Tumblr spam-bot prison, so I'm sure you've seen even more silly memes from me. So what now? I hope to release the rewrite of Stranger Inside very soon, maybe by the end of the month if possible? The sequel will follow, for real this time. At that point, we'll be back to voting, so you guys will be able to choose what comes after that. I'm really focused on writing now, which is probably why I'm mostly making memes and silly things. Still, if it makes you laugh, I'm happy. 🥰

If you read this to the end, you're amazing.💕

#sefikura #sephiroth #cloud strife #final fantasy vii

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melis-writes · 10 months

Text

Eyes like Stars [Bobby Axel x Reader Multi-chapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 19 - The Secrets We Keep.

Read on AO3 / Read Chapter 18 [AO3] / [Tumblr] / Chapter Masterlist. / Fic Playlist.

18+ explicit smut, multi-chapter read.

"What did he want?! Did you fuck him? Did you?!” / “I WAS GONNA MARRY YOU! I WAS GONNA MARRY A WHORE! A whore!”

Everything you've done up to this point was for Bobby and Bobby alone. What else would your intentions be for if it wasn't to hold onto and save everything the two of you have for one another? Bobby's set in his ways but the idea of losing you to the same fate Helen chose for herself is too much to bear. To see it is one thing, experience it--another, but just how much love can you claim if the one you adore is now the one hurting you?

[WARNINGS]: Mentions & themes of drug addiction and selling / Domestic abuse / Physical abuse / Verbal abuse / Depictions & themes of injury and blood.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The Eyes Like Stars girlies can EAT!! 🥺🙏🏻 And especially so since I will be putting this fic on a temporary hiatus as I focus more on finishing up/writing my Godfather fics first. I'm definitely not abandoning this fic and I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea that I am! With so my fics in my rotation and life changes, I'm struggling between balancing all of them and burning out/hitting writer's block. I will definitely return to this fic once I've completed my others and then we will go on with Emily and Bobby's story! For now, enjoy this (temporary) last chapter before the hiatus kicks in. I would also like to clarify for the sensitive nature of this chapter that I do not condone or romanticize abuse in any sort of way. This chapter also doesn't glorify it or anything like that.

Bobby’s release from prison marks the end of his and Helen’s relationship and you find yourself spending more time with Bobby and taking care of him after everything he’s been through. Working and living in Manhattan as a college drop-out, you distance yourself from Helen who Bobby and you take solace with one another in hopes to get out of the toxic lifestyle of drug use—promising each other to start a new life with one another and get clean. Falling in love with Bobby, you experience a mutual, passionate and loving relationship with its own highs and lows that promises to bloom into something more serious but also can threaten to collapse. As Bobby’s new girlfriend, your relationship hangs on a thread with old skeletons coming back into Bobby’s life, relapses, and a new panic on the horizon that threatens to undo it all.

Bobby knows Upper West Side Manhattan like the back of his hand; better than the majority of Manhattan-born residents through every street, turn, and block.

Give him a street and Bobby could tell you every corner store, the names of apartment buildings, if he knows anyone who lives there, who is shooting up, who is selling, and where the narcs are like it’s common sense.

“Bobby Axel” is a name every dealer, junkie, and narco alike knows on the street; word going around and connections made just like everybody else.

Bobby knows every detail of his home like it’s his duty, and it’s given him the advantage of sneaking away from the unwary or police at the perfect time with the layout of the city engrained in the back of his mind.

Bobby can never see himself doing anything else, anywhere else. Upper West Side Manhattan is his home. Needle Park is his home; it always has been, it always will be.

Being from New York City yourself but having memorized the same streets you, Bobby, and your friends are in day after day, everything you know and think you know of Upper West Side Manhattan pales in comparison to what Bobby knows.

Just as you think you’re taking the regular route back home from work, Bobby keeps his distance far behind you—blending into the crowd and particularly remaining next to the other outcasts and junkies dressed in navy jeans and a baggy hoodie like him.

You walk straight towards your apartment as you always have; not a single convenience store or grocery surrounds you upon the path you’re taking and Bobby can’t help but analyze your environment carefully; thinking if you took a different turn, you may bump into him in the next few minutes.

You don’t, and on purpose, Bobby lets you get home far before he does. So as long as you don’t know he’s coming and that Bobby wants to talk to you, he can approach you with time and circumstance on Bobby’s side.

Bobby takes the “scenic” route home, letting himself linger around the streets with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and the hood up, covering his head.

Trash litters the sidewalks with torn newspaper pages flying about, wrapping over flickering lampposts; the scents of cigarettes, garbage, and body odor lingering around the corners of each street Bobby passes by accompany him with the cool fall air and dimly lit, grimy blocks twisting and leading to your apartment.

It’s been years since Bobby’s memorized the crumbling streets before him, every old building and every hot spot that normally distracts and cools Bobby down when he’s pissed or stressed to shit but nothing gets through to him now.

Bobby can’t walk off his anger this time and he knows it. Bobby’s only able to remind himself why he’s going home—with the belief you’ve been lying to him this entire time.

Lying to him about the true nature of your work relationship with Sykes; every complaint you made, every time you called in sick just to avoid seeing him, and all that you explained to Bobby—what else would it all be for?

‘It makes sense.’ Bobby grits his teeth, keeping his eyes on the street as he continues briskly walking down the block.

Bobby’s judgment is immediately clouded with his irritation and anger; the idea of your encounter that he saw firsthand can’t be thought of as anything else but some sort of affair.

Why else would that smug son of a bitch have that look on his face watching you leave, let alone stand there adjusting his jeans after another secret get-together the two of you had?

Unbeknownst of Bobby’s eyes on both you and Sykes, you know the truth of what happened and how you still feel against your supervisor; bitter, mostly indifferent, and annoyed, but when it comes to shooting and selling, everyone’s needs are all the same. Everyone’s the same.

Thinking nothing of it and unsurprised by Bobby’s absence back at your apartment, you step in and set your purse and keys down before locking the front door.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you rub your temple gingerly before slipping off your shoes and shrugging off your jacket.

The only thing on your mind at the moment is relaxation—time to yourself and nothing more; that is all shared with Bobby once he gets back home from what you subconsciously assume is selling or out with Chico, Irene, and the others.

You open your purse and carefully take out the wad of cash from Sykes you quickly stuffed inside before setting it on the coffee table in the living room.

Pulling your hair up into a loose ponytail, you head towards your bedroom and undress; opting for a comfy pair of sweatpants and a black spaghetti-strap tank top.

Feeling at ease in the comfort of your own home with no need to pretend to be inconspicuous or watch for a narco on the side of the street, you step into the bathroom momentarily to freshen up.

Glancing up in the mirror, you blink at your reflection and realize how you’ve been wearing nothing but exhaustion over your expression—and all too well at that.

Sighing softly, you turn on the tap to lukewarm water before adjusting it to get hotter—grabbing a bar of soap and beginning to scrub at your hands to wash them off and give them a good rinse.

You pause for a moment, staring at the running water as you swallow hard. You can’t help but feel you’re expecting something—anticipating something you’ve forgotten.

Attempting to shake off the queasy feeling brewing in your stomach, you purposefully avoid looking towards your arms and adjust the water to an almost ice-cold temperature.

Splashing your face off to awaken yourself a bit, you then close the tap and dry off your hands and face with a towel before walking back into the living room.

Your eyes land on the wad of cash placed upon the center of the coffee table once more as you begin to approach it; plopping down on the couch and reaching over for the money.

‘Eighty dollars.’ You can still practically hear Sykes’ voice in your head; seeping with the same desperation as someone whose used it more than once, but hasn’t fallen into an addiction just yet.

Your fingers flip through the twenty dollar bills in your hands again and again as you find yourself zoning in and out, barely focused on what you’re doing, to begin with.

You frown, staring at the fading number twenty imprinted on one of the dollar bills before you graze your thumb over it.

You know more than anything you don’t need this money, but Bobby does.

‘All of this is for Bobby,’ you think to yourself, sitting up to set down the cash neatly on the coffee table. ‘It’s not for me. I don’t need this… I don’t need any of this. This is all for him.’

Just as you set down the neatly stacked wad of cash down upon the coffee table in front of you again, you almost knock it over and send it flying from the impact of how hard you flinch at the sound of the front door abruptly unlocking and flying open.

Blinking in surprise, you look up to see Bobby entering your apartment and letting the door slam behind him.

Without so much as a smile, a “hello” or even that soft look in Bobby’s eyes you’ve gotten used to seeing when he comes home to you, all you can pick up is the anger, irritation, and bitterness scowling over Bobby’s expression.

‘Bobby?’ The unforgiving look in Bobby’s eyes replaces any look of love he once ever gave you; his body language demanding and expectant as if you demanded Bobby to approach you as such.

In a split second, Bobby’s eyes dart down to the money in front of you before cruelty mixes with the anger in his eyes and he sends his apartment keys flying onto the dining table across the room.

“Bobby—” You flinch again pressing your back against the couch.

“Yeah,” Bobby raises his voice over you sharply, cutting you off. “Counting that good money Sykes gave you? Made sure every dollar was accounted for?”

Stunned and at a loss for words, your reaction merely gives Bobby a green light to continue as he grits his teeth, approaching you in the living room.

“Did that son of a bitch pay you before or after you sucked his cock?”

“What?!” You flinch again as Bobby kicks the stack of money off of the coffee table, sending it flying to various spots in the living room.

“Answer my fucking questions!” Bobby shouts at you, facing you directly. “What did you do to him, huh? What did he want?! Did you fuck him? Did you?!”

“Bobby, I—”

“You stupid fucking whore!” Bobby seethes, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tilting your head back instantaneously to slap you across the face.

“Ah!” Yelping out loudly in pain, the force of Bobby’s slap with him letting go of your hair was harsh enough to cause you to flail off the couch face down—hitting the side of your body against the armrest.

“Bobby! What are you—" You hiccup, bursting out sobbing from fear, pain, and confusion hitting you all at once.

Without even realizing it, you’re holding up your arms—still quivering—up to your face to shield you from impact, shakily looking up at your boyfriend.

Bobby breathes heavily, taking a step back from you; his eyes bloodshot and glistening with tears of frustration and anger as both of you take in what just occurred.

‘Bobby…’ Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach as shock and guilt rack over you in a wave of nausea and numbness throughout your body.

‘Baby…’ Bobby hit you.

Your boyfriend—the one who cried in your arms night after night, the one you couldn’t bear to see in pain, suffering from his withdrawals or illness from being unable to feed and take care of himself properly; Bobby who you washed away all the pain and sadness off of his body, kissed the scratches over his stomach and would do anything for, hit you over something that never even happened.

Bobby doesn’t wait for another response from you nor is his intention to give you an explanation for his sudden outburst; he’s hellbent on releasing his anger first.

“Don’t act surprised with me,” Bobby hisses, beginning to raise his tone. “You whore! You—”

Seeing as you flinch again by being called a “whore”, Bobby lunges towards you again in response and grabs both of your arms as you scream out and attempt to thrash away.

“YOU FUCKING WHORE!” Bobby hauls you up by your arms and throws you back down on the couch. “WHORE! You were heading straight back home my ass!”

“Bobby—” You cry out in pain, “BOBBY!’

Blow after blow only worsens and grows harsher with each hit over your arms and wrists before Bobby begins to aim his fists toward your head; grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Screeching out, you struggle against Bobby’s overpowering grip but manage to clutch his wrists—digging your nails into Bobby’s wrists and prying them off of you with every ounce of strength you have left in you.

“BOBBY, STOP!” You hiccup again throughout your sobs, pushing him away from you. “Stop it, STOP! Please, stop!”

“Stop what?!” Bobby scowls, “you didn’t stop fucking lying to me so tell me why I should stop now!”

“Bobby—” Your lip trembles as you notice his gaze fall to the dollar bills scattered over the living room floor.

Bobby nods to himself slowly, eyeing every dollar bill he can see before staring back up at you; ready to lunge at you once more. “He paid you eighty dollars?”

“Bobby—” You sniffle, your bottom lip trembling as you grip the fabric of the couch tightly.

“My girlfriend’s pussy is only worth eighty dollars?” Bobby narrows his eyes, “you cheap, used fucking whore!”

“STOP IT! STOP!” Screaming out at him, you scramble up and off the couch to rush towards the bathroom. “I didn’t! I didn’t do anything, I—”

“Come here, you fucking slut!” Bobby immediately begins to follow after you, reaching out to grab you again.

“I didn’t—no! NO! STOP IT, BOBBY!” Wailing, you barely make it to the bathroom before Bobby sends you flying to the floor with a rough shove like a ragdoll.

“I SAID COME HERE!” His sudden amount of strength against you who can barely breathe through your tears would take you by surprise if you weren’t the one Bobby was releasing his frustrations out on.

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” You shriek, landing on your side with a thud—almost knocking over the coffee table. “Stop it!” You shakily brace yourself for impact, holding your arms up to your face, pleading, “Please stop! PLEASE! L-let me talk to you—”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit!” Bobby screams back down at you, pointing, “I saw you walking out of the fucking side exit of your corporate shit hole, used and bought like the fucking whore you are! Can’t even face the front street so other people don’t pick up on it, huh?!”

“Bobby—” You flinch, wounded by his words.

“And for what?!” Bobby throws his hands up in the air, “for eighty dollars? You and that fucking asshole you kept telling me about? You think I’m fucking stupid, Emily? Huh—” Bobby hovers over top of you, leaning down to squeeze your face harshly as you continue crying out. “Huh? HUH!? You think I’m fucking stupid?!”

“B-Bobby!” You sputter, hiccupping. “How—”

“How do I know?!” Bobby scoffs, abruptly letting go of your face. “I followed you, you stupid bitch! I followed you because I knew you were fucking lying!”

“NO! I wasn’t—”

“You had someplace to be and I knew it from how you were checking that stupid fucking watch constantly—“ Bobby points to the shattered watch barely holding together over your wrist from the impact of his blows. “You fucking lied to me! You said you were gonna grab some shit from the store before coming back home, huh?! YOU WERE WITH ANOTHER MAN!”

“NO, I WASN’T! I wasn’t, Bobby! I wasn’t!” Your throat burns from screaming back at him in desperation. “I sold him shit, that’s all he wanted! I sold him what he fucking needed so he would get off my ass about it! I didn’t touch him and he didn’t touch me, I swear to you! I swear!”

Bobby ignores you, rolling his eyes; only a clear indication of the lack of a foundation of trust between the two of you.

“Listen to me,” Bobby hisses, pointing at his eyes with his hands trembling from mounting anger. “I would rather gouge my own eyes out than ever see you with someone else. Is that what I have to do? Hmm?” His eyes sting with tears. “Is that what you want me to do? Scratch my own fucking eyes out? I’ll do—”

“NO, STOP IT!” You let out a shriek at the top of your lungs before immediately trying to scramble up to your feet.

“Then my girlfriend’s a fucking whore!” Bobby lunges back at you but trips over the lamp cord, causing it to fall over and shatter to pieces on the floor—buying you a few seconds of precious time to race to the bedroom.

“And I was gonna marry you!” Bobby gives up the chase as you slam the door behind you, pressing your back against it with all of your might to keep it shut.

“YOU KNOW THAT?!” Bobby follows to the bedroom, screaming at the closed door in front of him. “I WAS GONNA MARRY YOU! I WAS GONNA MARRY A WHORE! A whore!”

Barely able to stand on your own feet and shivering out of control, you sob loudly as you rest your head against the door.

Sneering, Bobby turns back and grabs your keys off the counter before taking off from the suite entirely—purposefully letting the door slam behind him.

‘Oh my God…’ You crumble to your knees; your eyes tender and aching from sobbing but unable to stop yourself from letting your emotions consume you entirely.

With too much to process and take in, all you can do is helplessly look at the scratches and light gashes over your body from everything Bobby’s done to you.

Promised bruises and fresh blood dripping from your nose; everything stings yet feels hazy and warm to the touch.

Tilting your head back slowly, you attempt to take in a deep breath but every sense of calmness has departed you upon the first blow Bobby delivered.

All you can do is cry in pain that both your heart and mind feel. All you can do is let it eat you alive now. All you do is lay on the floor by the door and drown in your own tears.

Bobby walked out on you after all and as he did, he thought about nothing but what his relationship with you has come to now.

Bobby’s true possessive nature got the better of him, and he knows he can’t handle it at its fullest either—not after everything he went through with Helen prostituting herself.

If anything, Bobby’s made it clear to you that he desires and craves you and only you to the extent that just the thought of having to share you or seeing you with someone else makes him want to kill himself.

Still, even though he’s out on the streets with nothing but a bruised ego, his hatred, his anger, and his broken pride, the only thing he can think of is that you may just have been telling nothing but the truth.

#al pacino #al pacino x reader #melis-writes #bobby axel x reader #bobby axel x oc #bobby axel fanfic #the panic in needle park #the panic in needle park fanfic #the panic in needle park smut #bobby axel x reader smut #bobby axel #eyes like stars fanfic #the panic in needle park x reader

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stabbyfoxandrew · 2 months

Note

just any aftg fics you’ve enjoyed in the last month or so!!! im not picky, they can be whatever ship whatever au or content :) curious and in the mood to read something new……

okay! :D gonna go grab some stuff from my ao3 history. cut because it got long

kandreil:

game changer by peaceoutofthepieces

andreil come to visit kevin in his new apartment and he feels weird about it. but then...

Scrambled by klovnen

kevin gets a concussion!! so sad so good. his bfs take care of him. <3

it's worth a little blood to get your arms free by wyverning

kevin and neil start fucking around but they both really want andrew! (i haven't finished this one yet because it wasn't done when i read it but it is not and i'm hyped to see what happens)

If We Gotta Go (Gotta Go Tonight) by queer_lovebot

andreil teach kevin how to drive and it's so sweet TWT <333

stuck between your teeth like cotton candy by memeyoozi (vernonsgf)

this one is (for now) a two part series!!!! it's pre-kandreil iirc and the second part is MORE of kevin going insane because he's in love with andreil? i need to reread this one. but this writer is amazin

kevjean:

teenage dream by kevjean

kevin comes to california for a visit and he's packing! jean sucks the strap (it's pink/ i'm glad you're not colorblind) it's amazing i have a bouquet of flowers for ao3 user kevjean!!!

andreil:

Caretaking 101: When to Surrender a Sweatshirt by williams_strawberries

mein gott... i've been thinking about this fic for months. andrew thinks neil's about to run away but he's actually built himself a nest for his heat in the tower's basement. it's soooo TwT you'll see what i mean go read it. (no actual smut, just has the abo elements!)

i only need the working of my hands by allyasavedtheday

AMNESIA ANDREW!!! the man who remembers everything forgets what's most important. and has to re-learn who neil is. showstopping... amazing increbdile <- so good my stupid ass forgot how to spell!

keremy:

once in a lifetime by kevjean

jeremy is a popstar and kevin is his biggest fan! they fuck backstage and it's glorious!!! GLORIOUS!!! ao3 user kevjean... i love you<333

kevseth:

Baby Pink by noNic02

ok. this one... made me insane(r). it's not for everyone for sure... but kevin and seth are secretly fucking and kevin wears allison's clothes (kevin is having a lot of gender thoughts in here too... an egg...)

misc:

a detachment and a passive disinterest by memeyoozi (vernonsgf)

not sure where to put this one... kevin is in heat and needs dicked down. nicky volunteers! hooray! but also kevin wants andreil so bad he's insane! (they're all insane your honor) but it's so good? ty sister dayurno for showing me this...

sorry for the terrible formatting i've never really done this before? (i don't think anyhow?) anyway! go read all these okay! ❤️

#hooray!#aerie's fic recs #<- new tag woohoo #anon #answered #aftg

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kazoosandfannypacks · 11 months

Text

summary: when ezra overhears sabine reciting a mandalorian custom, ezra regrets all the years he's missed out on. word count: 1K a/n: i came up with this fic during my mando'a studies. my goal is to someday write an entire fic in mando'a, complete with a work skin that'll include a mando'an font. that dream is still many years off though, but until then, here's a fic inspired by a little bit of manda-lore i've learned! taglist:@laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Here For You Now

It took Ezra a moment to figure out why he'd fallen asleep on the floor, less than a foot away from his bed. He would've totally assumed that he'd fallen off the bed in his sleep again (it was less than a foot's drop; he'd slept through it before,) but the pile of blankets underneath him told him this was definitely intentional. He couldn't quite piece together why he would've done something like this though— until he heard a murmured whisper coming from the bed, a voice he almost thought he was just imagining again, until he remembered that yesterday was the day he'd spent over a decade waiting for.

Sabine had found him.

And, since his trailer offered little in the way of comfort, he'd let Sabine take the bed and offered to sleep on the floor instead. Good hospitality, he'd called it, something he'd learned well from the Noti, and also a way to say "thank you" for coming all this way just to bring him home. (And in actuality, he'd never make his favorite person in this [and any] galaxy sleep on the floor— and also he knew he'd irreversibly stumble over his words if he suggested they try to share the bed.)

But despite being on the floor and definitely sore from it, it was one of the best wakeups he'd had in years— certainly the one that ushered in the most hope along with it.

Though he'd never lost faith in Sabine, hope had been in short supply the past year or so— that is, until yesterday, when the Noti had told him that they found a girl ("your girl," their language put it, and he was too ecstatic to disagree) and she'd come to the camp looking for him. He'd never thought she'd looked more beautiful than she did when she saw him, and gave him a smile that conveyed the same genuine joy and total disbelief he was feeling.

And now he woke up knowing she was here, and it wasn't another stupid dream about her return: she was on Perida, actually with him, quietly chanting something in Mando'a.

"Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

Ezra wasn't sure what she was mumbling about, but it felt almost like some kind of meditation, or a prayer. His interest was piqued when he heard the next two words, and he looked up to see her sitting cross legged with her eyes closed.

"Kanan Jarrus. Ursa Wren. Alrich Wren. Tristan Wren. Ahsoka Tano. Ni su'cuyi gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum."

Sabine sighed, and there was a moment of silence.

"What's that?" Ezra asked, once he was sure she'd finished.

"Ah-wha?" Sabine started, apparently not having known Ezra was even awake "it's nothing. Just an old Mandalorian tradition. I didn't mean to wake you up. Did you sleep alright?"

"What kind of old Mandalorian tradition?" Ezra asked, completely disregarding her attempts to divert the conversation.

"Nothing," Sabine shook her head.

"Didn't seem like nothing to you."

"Well, it's nothing that matters to you," Sabine said.

"Everything you…" Ezra stopped mid-sentence, knowing that if he said "everything you say maters to me," she might start to think he had feelings for her— which he did, but he was pretty sure she still didn't feel the same way, and he didn't want to run the risk of scaring off his only ride back home. So, he switched trains of thought.

"You mentioned Kanan," Ezra shook his head.

Sabine looked at him, and in her eyes he saw the softness and pain she was trying all too well to hide. He smiled slightly, nodded slightly, raised his eyebrows slightly, tried to remind her with merely a look that her secrets were safe with him.

Sabine sighed.

"It's a remembrance," she offered, "'I am alive, but you are dead.'" she shook her head as she choked out the words, "'I remember you, so you are eternal.'"

Ezra smiled a little at the sentiment, at keeping the memory of someone alive long after they're gone— but then he realized that the names of her family were included in that list.

"You mentioned your family too," Ezra said, quietly, "Are they…?"

Sabine nodded, "they're gone."

"And Ahsoka?"

"I think so," she said, the words petering out as a single breath.

Ezra thought he saw a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked away from him. He didn't fight the urge to climb up onto the bed next to her and wrap an arm around her for comfort. He realized after he did so that he'd taken a gamble, and she was likely to be annoyed by his attempt to comfort her, so he was surprised when, instead of twisting away from him, she actually leaned closer, accepting the shoulder he gave her to cry on.

"I'm so sorry, Sabine," Ezra whispered, with no idea what other words he could even offer.

"There's nothing you could've done," Sabine said, "there's nothing anyone could've done."

Ezra remembered thinking the same thing when the empire took his parents, that there was nothing anyone could've done to help him— but that didn't mean he didn't want anyone to.

"I could've been there for you," Ezra shook his head, "I should've been there for you. Kriff, I've missed out on so much."

Sabine lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up at him.

"But I am here for you now," Ezra said, letting go of her and resting his hand on the bed behind her, "if you wanna talk about it at all."

Sabine shook her head and looked away.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Alright," Ezra nodded, "is there anything I can do?"

"Could you just sit here with me?" Sabine asked.

"Absolutely," Ezra smiled.

They treasured a moment's silence, before Sabine leaned a little closer, resting her head on his arm again. She glanced up at him as a smile crossed his face, and he rested his head on top of hers.

Maybe he hadn't been there for her for the last few years. Maybe there were a lot of moments she'd needed him that he missed out on.

But this moment? It wasn't going to be one of them— he was here for her now, and that's what mattered.

And he wasn't going to stop being there for her ever again.

#sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #ezrabine #ahsoka series #star wars rebels #ahsoka spoilers #kazzy writes #fanfic #kazzy writes fanfic #sabezra fanfic #oneshot #sabezra oneshot #otp: im counting on you

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skyloftian-nutcase · 11 months

Text

From the Shadows (pre-LU whump)

@nancyheart11

Summary: Twilight encounters a black blooded beast for the first time. It doesn't go well.

(AO3 link)

It was a bitterly cold evening. The coming of winter brought winds from the northwest, and though it probably wasn't excessively frigid, Rusl was still accustomed to the warm summer. The home carried a damp chill, and the blacksmith found himself huddling by the fire after a hard day's work. Hana sat on his lap, babbling happily while playing with her toys, while Colin helped his mother cook dinner. The dull light that could pierce through the clouds was steadily fading as the hidden sun slowly set beneath the horizon.

Rusl hummed absentmindedly, though he couldn't quite maintain a tune, but his daughter didn't seem to mind. His mind drifted passively from thought to thought, settling on wondering what Uli might be whipping up in the kitchen, when there was some sort of ruckus outside. Cuccoos were squawking, a horse was whinnying very loudly - what was going on?

Rising, Rusl told Hana to go to her mother just as he and Colin headed for the door together. The cold slammed their faces as Colin got there first, and Rusl felt his blood freeze with it.

Epona was running amok in the village, panicked. She was fully saddled and bridled as if Link had been out riding, but now there was no Link to be found while his steed was in a frenzy.

Ilia, who had also come out due to the commotion, rushed to the horse first. Many of the villagers peered out through cracked doors, anxious and curious. Colin got to Epona next while Rusl looked around for any sign of his ward.

"Sshh, it's okay," Ilia hushed gently, petting Epona's head while she stomped in place nervously.

"Where's Link?" Colin asked worriedly.

"I... I don't know," Ilia answered. "I didn't even know he'd left the village."

Rusl eyed the steed sharply, looking for clues while worry curled in his gut and clenched at his heart. It wasn't a promising sign for Link's horse to be in such a state. The animal was unharmed, but he saw traces of clues: a small branch caught in the saddle, a half open satchel of supplies partially used.

Link had been exploring, or fighting, and something had gone wrong.

The resistance member reentered the house, brushing by a worried Uli and grabbing his sword and shield. He layered up clothes and some armor while Uli approached him.

"Rusl?" she didn't have to ask what was wrong. Her tone and eyes asked everything she needed to.

"I don't know what happened," Rusl answered. "But something's wrong with Link. I'm going to find him."

Uli swallowed, hands wringing anxiously as she looked back outside. "Please, be careful."

Rusl paused, watching his wife a moment. She never argued his choices to leave for missions or operations, but he knew how much it weighed on her. She wanted to make sure Link was well too, but he could sense her fear at the sudden shift in mood, at the hasty decision to drop everything and enter an unknown peril. He cupped her cheek, guiding her eyes to his. "I will be. I promise."

Uli smiled a little, leaning into his touch, before stepping away so he could finish. Rusl headed outside to see Colin armed with a sword and a cloak.

"Colin," he started, but his son cut him off.

"I've been training," Colin immediately argued. "I'm coming too."

Rusl bit back a sigh. His boy had always been eager to help ever since the Twilight incident, and adolescence had only added defiance to eagerness, making it all the harder to keep him safe. There was little time to argue, and... the boy wasn't wrong. His sword skills were quite good.

It didn't make his father feel much better about the situation. He already had one son in danger. He wasn't keen on putting another one in the same circumstances.

"Colin--"

"Every minute we spend arguing, Link could be dying!" Colin interrupted.

The teenager wasn't wrong, but Rusl still felt uneasy. "Fine. But you ride Epona, and the second I tell you to get out, you listen. Understood?"

Colin swallowed, paused, and then nodded. Rusl felt a little at ease with that - his boy was honest, and thankfully had inherited a bit more of his mother's reason than his father's stubbornness. Although he had certainly done some foolish, harebrained things, he would listen to his father.

Rusl grabbed his own horse and the pair headed towards Faron Woods with well wishes at their backs from the villagers. He reached out, letting his hand rest gently on Epona's head. "You'll have to guide us, girl."

Colin pat Epona's neck, urging her forward. At first the steed was obedient, but the farther into the woods they went, the more nervous and hesitant she became. That meant whatever had caused the initial scare had to be close. Despite already being on alert, he tensed even more, eyes searching for clues.

He didn't have to search for long. The earth was scarred, claw marks and chunks of dirt thrown like lacerations in the skin of the land itself. The birds were silent. Epona nickered, taking a step back. The oncoming darkness of night gave the trees sinister silhouettes. Rusl and Colin's warm breaths hovered in the chilly air, the only apparent sign of life around them.

"I've never seen the forest so still," Colin commented quietly, a slight tremor to his tone. He reached hesitantly for his sword.

Rusl's own mount began to grow nervous, ears peeling back, hooves playing uneasily with the earth. The air felt distinctly colder. The swordsman drew his blade, and his son followed suit.

"Let's keep moving," he said, guiding his steed forward with a tap of his heels.

Eventually it grew so dark that Rusl was squinting to see anything, and he brought out his lantern. It seemed to be of little help, creating ominous shadows that seemed to creep ever closer as they moved. Epona nickered again, and then she picked up her pace. Rusl followed closely, eyes alert for danger. His eyes picked up on silky strands that glowed in the lantern light, and his insides started to crawl.

Colin gasped ahead of him. "Link!"

Rusl's gaze snapped straight ahead, his horse breaking into a canter to get to the front, and then he leapt off as he took in the sight before him.

Link was on the his back, splayed out across smooth stone, pale and shivering, blood staining his green tunic as his hand clutched his upper abdomen. His eyes were half open, already noticing Rusl and Colin's approach.

"Pa," he whispered as Rusl fell to his knees beside him.

"What happened?" Rusl asked, looking the young man over. The worst of it from what he could tell was a bad gash on the boy's head and whatever wound he was trying to hold pressure against on his abdomen. Rusl quickly pulled out a bandage from the first aid bag he'd grabbed and gently tried to guide Link's hand from the injury.

"They're... strong..." his boy tried to explain, coughing. "P-Pa..."

Rusl hushed him gently, hand wrapping around Link's wrist. "It's going to be okay, Link, but you have to let me see the wound."

"I'm... glad you're... I didn't..."

Rusl grew more worried as Link didn't seem to listen. He again tried to move the young man's hand, watching blood stream from beneath.

"Pa...?" Colin called hesitantly, and Rusl looked up, gasping and nearly falling backwards.

Eight eyes watched him, beady and black as coal, two incisors chattering excitedly beneath them. Rusl immediately grabbed his sword and shield in time to block a quick strike from the large skulltula. The force of the attack sent him on his backside, and Colin leapt forward, jabbing at the beast with his blade. The giant monster hissed, taking a few steps back before pressing the attack again. Colin yelped, dodging a blow, and Rusl quickly leapt to his feet to stab and cut one of its legs. He saw that one had already been chopped off entirely, and he recognized multiple sword slashes in the beast's body. How was this thing still standing?!

"Colin, protect Link!" Rusl advised, trying to press the offense and push the beast farther away from his boys. Colin grabbed his lantern and set it beside Link, lighting the area better so Rusl could see his opponent.

Link watched the fight with exhausted worry, eyebrows pinched but too weak to do anything. He turned his attention towards Colin as his little brother stood over him defensively. "Colin."

The blonde teenager jumped, startled, and looked down at Link. "It's okay, Link! Pa and I will sort this out."

"It's too... strong," Link advised, shaking his head slowly. "E-Epona..."

"Link, it's going to be okay!" Colin insisted, gripping his sword more tightly.

Rusl emphasized the point when he managed to land a stab right at the joint where one of the beast's legs met its thorax. That should cripple it nicely. The skulltula hissed and screamed, the leg in question giving out, before another swept across the ground, slamming Rusl in the ribs and sending him flying.

Colin called out, rising and ready to run to his father, and Rusl waved him off, blinking stars out of his vision. Link's hand finally left his wound to wrap around Colin's ankle, catching the boy off guard.

"Epona..." he tried again. "Bag... potion... Pa can't... fight it alone..."

Colin looked frantically between his brother and father. Rusl was still down, trying to catch his breath as the skulltula advanced quickly. Making a decision, the teenager rushed back to Epona while yelling to get his father's attention and warn him.

Rusl felt his head spinning, but he could hear the hasty footsteps of the beast, and he readied his shield in time to avoid getting bitten by its massive fangs. The onslaught was constant now, though, one bite after another, legs moving to position him more easily for the kill. He rolled away, grimacing through the damage to his ribs, but he eventually hit a tree and had nowhere else to go without getting up.

Gritting his teeth, Rusl let out a yell of defiance and pain as he rose, only to get smacked down again by one of the beast's uninjured legs. His world was beginning to spin, and he'd ventured too far from the lantern light to see properly anymore. His veins filled with ice as his mind registered this was getting out of control. He rose again, shaky, and jabbed blindly with his sword to create some distance. The skulltula retreated a hair as intended, and he could barely make out its silhouette in the darkness.

A snarl filled the air, something dark and fast rushed into view, slamming the skulltula to the ground. It crumpled with a shriek, legs sprawled and flailing. Light illuminated the area as Colin ran into the clearing, lantern in one hand, sword in the other. He stabbed at the beast's thorax once, twice, thrice, and it still wailed and wiggled, trying to right itself and continue the fight.

The dark, snarling thing that slammed into the beast stumbled into view, and Rusl could make out claws and paws and matted fur before the light around it was snuffed into nothingness. The light reformed with a hiss, and Link was crouching in their midst, trembling and bloodied but up and moving.

"Give me the lantern," Link hissed, grabbing it and smashing it over the beast, flames licking at the monster as it screamed. Link brought his blade down and cut the creature's thorax clean into sections, and the skulltula finally grew silent and still.

Everyone blew out a collective sigh of relief.

Colin broke the silence first, running to his father. "Pa, are you okay?"

Rusl watched Link turn to look at him, his own face cast in shadow, exhausted and filthy and wounded. The Ordonian took a shuddering breath, feeling his own chest scream in protest, and his world finally stopped spinning. He placed a shaky hand on Colin's shoulder, looking hisboy over and seeing that he was unscathed.

"I'm okay," he finally said. He would be better if he could get his racing heart under control. He'd never had such trouble fighting a single beast. He... was about to die if Link hadn't stepped in. His mind was caught in a spiral between concern for his boys and fear at his own mortality having been thrust in his face so unexpectedly. He'd faced death a fair amount, but not when the stakes were so high, not when his sons were right there.

Spirits above. They could have all died just now.

One of them was still hurt. He needed to help Link.

Rusl got to his feet, his body trembling, and he squeezed Colin's shoulder reassuringly. The flames on the skulltula were feasting happily, but they would soon extinguish so long as the Ordonians moved the dead leaves away from the corpse.

"We should go," Link advised quietly. "I'll guide the way. My wolf eyes can see in the dark."

Rusl stumbled somewhat unsteadily towards the young man, not acknowledging his words for a second. Both his hands went to Link's face, holding him steady with his gaze as he looked him over. How the young hero was suddenly standing when he'd been barely able to slew words together before was disconcerting and confusing. He was still wounded, wasn't he? The blood indicated as such.

"I had a potion, Pa," Link explained, putting an equally unsteady hand on the man's chest. Rusl saw the hand was stained, but the blood... why was it black?

He had far more questions than answers, but Link was right. They needed to go. They couldn't handle another fight like that. Rusl felt his heart skip a beat at the thought that something so dangerous had been anywhere near Ordon Village.

Link stepped away before Rusl had a chance to speak, crouching to the ground as shadows encased him. A wolf exited the darkness, shaking himself off a little with a small whine. Link couldn't hide his emotions or his wounds as well in this form, and it was clear he was in pain.

Reality snapped into place around Rusl, and he quickly kicked the leaves away from the skulltula's body, advising Colin to do the same. The last thing they needed was to burn down the forest. Link dug little trenches around the massive body. After a few minutes of work, the three were satisfied enough to leave the body burning, fire lazily crawling across and consuming as it went.

Epona nickered and ran forward to greet them when they made their way back to the original clearing. Rusl saw his horse waiting anxiously in the background. Epona and Link touched noses briefly, the wolf's tail wagging slowly.

"She got us," Colin explained. "She ran back to the village."

Link let out a small noise, licking tentatively at Epona's muzzle, and the horse nuzzled the wolf's face briefly.

"We need to go," Rusl finally said, mounting his own horse with a grunt of pain. He wanted nothing more than to let Link ride with him, but the boy wasn't wrong in that they needed a guide out. It was now night, and the crescent moon did little to guide their way, particularly with the cloud coverage. Colin got on Epona's saddle, and Link slowly began to limp through the forest.

As they moved, it gave Rusl more time to think and worry. How much blood had Link lost before he'd had a potion? Where had this beast come from, and how was it so powerful? Skulltulas were unpleasant, but they'd never been more than a nuisance unless in groups. Perhaps there had been more? Rusl hadn't seen any others, alive or dead.

Dead. Dead. He could have died, and worst of all, it would have left his boys at that beast's mercy. Rusl took a steadying breath, wincing again at his ribs.

He was getting too old for this. Facing his mortality hadn't been this terrifying since the first time it had happened. Then again, it didn't happen all that often. The last time he'd felt such fear clutch at his throat was when the Twilight invasion had started. He'd been nearly beaten senseless, and though he had been afraid for his own life, he had been far more terrified for his children.

But his children hadn't been present for that fight. Here they would have died if he'd failed, and he'd nearly failed.

He needed to contact the others about this. He'd never encountered such a beast, and he couldn't fight another alone. Link hadn't been able to fight it alone!

The sound of Ordon Spring soothed his worries a little, reminding him that they were somewhere safe now. He pulled back on the reigns to stop his horse, and the movement caught his boys' attention.

"Change back," Rusl ordered as he dismounted.

Link watched him a moment, intelligent blue eyes practically glowing in the dark, and then he complied. The young man shuddered, already crouching on the ground, and toppled over to his hands and knees. Rusl knelt down to hold him steady, helping him readjust to sit on the ground instead. Colin was at his other side in an instant.

"Did the potion not help?" Colin asked worriedly, not quite accustomed to the effects of such magical draughts.

"I'm okay," Link assured his little brother tiredly.

"We'll be sure of that when we get home," Rusl added, wrapping an arm around him. "You're riding the rest of the way, Link."

His eldest looked like he was going to argue, but a squeeze around his shoulders silenced him. Instead, he sighed, rising alongside Rusl. There was still some fight left in him, though. "It's not a long walk, Pa."

"Then I'm walking with you," Rusl countered, equally as stubborn as his boy.

"Me too!" Colin insisted.

"This is dumb," Link whined. "The horses--"

"Will follow," Rusl interrupted. "You want to walk, let's walk."

The farther into the village they went, the more at ease everyone became. Ordon held a peace to it that couldn't be easily described, except that the place radiated safety and peace and home. The symphony of crickets and gentle trickle of water eased Rusl's worries about any beasts following, allowing him to focus all his attention instead on ensuring his boy was alright.

Uli was waiting for them when they came home, medical supplies already at the ready alongside some milk. Her face was pinched in worry, but it relaxed a little at seeing everyone at least on their feet. Her eyes scanned the three quickly, and Rusl felt a twinge of guilt and gratitude mixing uneasily at the realization that she was well accustomed to searching for injuries by this point.

Colin escaped the fussing for the most part, aside from just the fact that he was the youngest. He insisted at least three times that he was unharmed, even lifting his tunic to prove it, and was sent to the blanket pile awaiting him in front of the hearth, a cup of milk in hand anyway. Link was next, immediately swept to the couch and told to lay down and take his shirt off. His unsteady gait had both his parents on high alert, and though it was evident that the potion had indeed done the trick (goddesses above, those had been puncture wounds, that beast had actually managed to bite into his boy), it was also evident he'd lost a faira mount of blood and possibly smacked his head. He was tentatively fed some milk and warm broth before Uli began to fuss over cleaning him up. Rusl helped her get Link out of his clothes and chainmail. As his wife wiped blood and grime with a warm, wet rag, Rusl examined the mail, looking at the breaks and resolving to repair it.

The warm water and soothing touch from his mother soothed Link into a half asleep state. Though Rusl knew Uli would prefer just outright giving Link a bath, the simple cleaning was more than enough for the chilly night, and Link's pride would only allow for so much fussing. Eventually the young man was snoring softly on the couch, dressed in Rusl's spare clothes and swaddled in more blankets than Rusl could count.

Rusl sighed in relief, the last tension finally draining out of him, and he dragged his feet to the table. His gaze moved between his sons, both of whom had fallen asleep. Colin was too big for Uli to carry anymore, so he tiredly resigned himself to the task, wincing as he rose.

"You're hurt," Uli said, and Rusl felt like it was possibly a death sentence in itself.

"Uli--"

"You're hurt," she emphasized, tears starting to shimmer in her eyes.

Spirits above, he couldn't make her cry. Rusl went to her, holding her reassuringly, and insisted he was fine. To prove his point, he moved to pick up Colin, trying to hide the pain from his face.

Uli was always a patient and gentle woman. She rarely expressed negative emotions outwardly - instead, it usually came up in her silence, in her melancholy and lack of energy. However, there were still times where it came forth, and she always expressed it in the worst ways possible.

His wife was hardly ever angry, but she would get disappointed.

"Don't," she said, her body stiff, breath short and choppy. "Don't pick him up. You'll set a bad example. They'll think it's okay to ignore injuries."

"Uli, I--"

"Do you want them to get hurt like this more? To hide it and make it worse?" And oh, if it wasn't the disappointment, it was the guilt and tears. Rusl felt exasperated and penitent all at once. He sighed, putting his pride aside and slowly sitting back down.

Uli burst into tears. Rusl immediately rose to go to her, and she pushed him back down.

"I'm sorry, I just--I get so worried," Uli sniffled, muffling her already soft sobs in a handkerchief.

"I know," Rusl said quietly, guilt eating away at him. "I'm sorry too."

Uli pushed a bottle of milk towards him wordlessly, fighting to regain her composure, and Rusl drank it without argument. The couple took in the silence and each other's company, and Uli settled beside him at the table as they watched their children sleep.

"We almost died out there," Rusl said suddenly. He cursed himself and was thankful that the words spilled out all at the same time; he didn't want to worry Uli, but he needed to say it. "That beast... I've never... it makes no sense. It was far more powerful than any skulltula I've ever seen, and it bled black blood."

"Black blood?" Uli repeated. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know," Rusl answered honestly, his gaze settling on Link. The milk he'd had warmed him from the inside out, mending and soothing the ache in his chest. Finally able to take a deep breath, he pulled Uli close as she rested her head on his shoulder. "But we'll figure it out together."

The pair sat there, taking comfort in each other, and a gentle silence hung in the air, holding the oncoming cold at bay.

#writing #there's whump so I'm adding it to the whumptober stuff #promptless but whatever #the prompt was make Nan happy lol #anyway #I feel like encountering a black blooded beast for the first time would be a bit unsettling #like you either question your sanity in that a normal monster is suddenly so hard to beat #or you realize things are about to get REALLY bad #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu twilight #lu rusl #lu colin #lu wolfie #whumptober

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