#and we barely talked since. she didn't send me them either

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // criticism ⚠️

in caitlyn's post-war speech, she talks ambiguously of history and of ups and downs and of a story not yet over, but there's no promise for the future, no motivation to keep going, no bigger picture, no lesson learned. we're not shown much work being done either and i'm about to examine why it felt that way to me, leaving me a bit confused, somewhat unsatisfied, and deeply, profoundly sad

of course, jayce and viktor are dead. heimerdinger is gone, potentially also dead but unlike the latter two, we don't quite know what happened to him, he just kind of disappeared. i was left under the impression the were two ekkos - one for each universe, and our ekko's consciousness just changed bodies briefly due to the hexcore before heimerdinger managed to send him back to his own body in the right universe. but it seemed there was only one heimerdinger (body and soul) who'd traveled to the alternative universe as a package and lived there for a thousand years until our ekko came around in the alternative one's body, and instead of traveling back with him, heimerdinger's body and subsequently his consciousness ceased to exist. so... who's inventing things now? who's rebuilding piltover?

jinx and warwick (because there's no vander left there anymore, we made sure of that) are also presumably dead. we see how this is affecting ekko and vi, but not necessarily the undercity, for which jinx was a symbol of freedom, of unity - the perfect person who could've broken a cycle of violence, poverty and oppression. zaun doesn't get its sovereignty and seemingly loses its beacom of hope.

we see sevika as part of the council in piltover instead, but it's not like she's making merry with the other new counselors, in fact they throw her some nasty looks. and of course, i didn't expect it to be easy and it's admirable she's even there at all but unless i missed anyone, she's the only zaunite there out of 9 counselors (w/ zaun being 1/4 of piltover's population in canon afaik). i guess there's work to be done there but there was no indication of it even being able to go in a good direction, since she seems to have no backing from anyone now and again, we don't even know the extent to which the undercity managed to unify under her.

mel, a character always depicted in white and gold, an image of purity and mercy, defiant of her mother's brutality since childhood, now dons her red eyeshadow and sits on her throne on a ship for noxus. in an attempt to save her city, the city she was exhiled in to "learn" this brutality, to be hidden from the black rose from, and that's she's instead given her everything to care for (after barely getting the time to grapple with her own identity crisis and the predetermination of her fate) she's left no choice but to surrender her mother to the black rose, and watch her die in her arms. perhaps it is by virtue of noxian law she assumes her place and has to return to noxus. she leaves her beloved city in such a perilous and war-torn state, riddled with guilt and confusion. is she a wolf now? has she always been one?

ekko presumably grieves jinx by burning a piece of paper for her (my first thought was it was for heimerdinger, his "mentor" whose contributions and potential sacrifice made ekko coming back home possible, and with the time reversal device at that - but i interpreted it as being for jinx because it was in the place he kissed her alternate self in the alternative universe). what of ekko's future, of his commune? what happened to the tree getting corrupted? heimerdinger had plans to fix it with jayce's help or at least find the sickness' origin (the hexcore, yes, but we don't know if what happened to the tree got reversed), instead they found out the undercity was completely reliant on piltover's mercy for their water and air, and this knowledge seems to have died with them (bcuz i doubt ekko has the power to do anything about it).

caitlyn's looking at the kiramman house files, including city plans, potentially to rebuild things after the war but how? first of all, what are they gonna do with the hextech, the weapons, the gates, the magic in general? would they even want to try that again, and what implications would this have for piltover and zaun individually but for their precarious newly founded relationship? and secondly, she's a policewoman/detective turned anti-civil-war-commander turned just war commander, she's not an engineer or a scientist. all those ones? gone. all the people we know of who could rebuild the city in its previous progressive state are gone - jayce, viktor, heimerdinger, even jinx as a technological wildcar in vi's words. caitlyn seems to be telling the story or archiving files and plans for any future kirammans but she doesn't seem to have any work of her own to do anymore.

vi is the saddest case here, which says a lot. she's lost everything and is completely devoid of purpose. it's okay not to be okay, but what she says to caitlyn completely destroys me (and i'll do a separate, more detailed post but this shall do for now). she's depressed. easily. she's grieving jinx, humming a song her mother used to sing to them, the same one jinx was humming when we first saw her this season. when she says, "I'll always be dirt under your fingernails, cupcake." she isn't being cute, flirty, or romantic. she's being self-deprecating, indicating she deems her presence a nuisance to caitlyn, she deems herself unworthy and unwelcome in her house, but it's not like she's going anywhere. where else could she even go? caitlyn is all she has left. that's what she means when she says, "nothing's ever gonna clean me out", but perhaps even more so, she implies she's beyond repair, that she'll never be whole, never be truly okay again after this.

(the only person who got a "happy" ending, and the reason why this pisses me off is because he was truly vile and wicked and idc abt his motivations i will not be convinced otherwise, was fucking singed, who somehow got to have his immortalized robot daughter despite everything)

[purring-tiefling]

not vent but vent. like. i think i would attribute anything negative to venting. anyways it's in the tags

[iloveelliefanfics]

Take me to the lakes

a/n: this idea popped into my mind while playing tlou then i had the whole picture when i was listening to "the lakes" by taylor swift, enjoy it and any type of feedback is appreciated! thank you<3

pairing: nerd jackson ellie x reader

summary: ellie surprises you on your birthday. ellie is being her nerd, awkward self

i take requests, not proofread

pics from pinterest!

mentions of nicknames, fluff, kissing

You and Ellie got together a couple of months ago, you spent as much time with her as much you could since both of you had things to do around town. It was a special day. Your birthday. You could never be too sure what Ellie would come up with, all the things she's made for you, the songs she's written, the drawings she's made for you. It was all nice but the best part of it was when she handed them over or played the songs she's come up with and blushed so hard but when you brought it up she denied while blushing even more. She denies a lot of things but never the love she feels for you, so she made sure your birthday will be unforgettable and amazing.

You haven't seen her much in the past week, you could guess why but didn't want to jinx it. It either could've been patrol duty, or just that she's preparing for your birthday. You knew that she was preparing for your birthday, gosh it was so obvious,bur again you didn't want to jinx it. She could barely keep it as a secret, but you didn't mind, the grin she had while telling you the past two days that this birthday will be the best of yours, she'll make sure of it. Which is something that is rare in this apocalyptic, corrupted world.

In the morning you woke up to someone impatiently knocking on your front door, you went downstairs and it wasn't a surprise that your girlfriend, Ellie was standing there holding some expired chocolate that she always brought you from her past patrols and with beautiful red roses. Again, the blush on her face was unmatched, it was almost the same shade as the roses.

"Hey babe, happy birthday!" she said then hugged you tightly carefully not to ruin the roses. You hugged her back, taking in her scent.

"Hey Els, aw, thank you! You're here early." You couldn't stop smiling.

"Well I wanted to give you these before we head out." She kissed your cheek then pulled back from the hug to give you the roses and your favorite chocolate.

Your cheeks heat up from the gesture, after months she still makes the butterflies go wild in your stomach.

"Thank you so much, gosh you really are the best." You lean in to kiss her, which she gets right away and slowly leans in for the kiss. After you're out of breath you pull away and look into her gorgeous green eyes.

"Nah, it was nothing gorgeous, you deserve the best, but now we're heading out. I have something to show you." She grins at you and intertwines her fingers with yours. You walk to the horse stables hand in hand, Shimmer, her horse is already saddled up. After she gets on her horse she helps you up.

"So are you gonna tell me where we're going?" You squeeze her waist while leaning closer to her ears which sends shivers down her spine.

"I can't and you know it, so stop it babe or we're going to go back and you'll be sitting on my couch listening to the whole plot of Savage Starlight." She tries to make a serious face, but fails at it which makes you laugh.

"No way, I've already listened to it like a hundred times, you can't tell me you'd do it again!" You're still laughing from the face she made, she looks back over her shoulder.

"I would and i know you would love to listen to it even if I'd tell you the story a thousand times." She says leading you two through the woods.

"I would, babe." You say placing a kiss on her cheek. "Is it far? At least tell me that."

"It's not where almost there." She says leading Shimmer further in the woods.

You two talk the whole way through, exchanging loving gazes, and talk about having a sleepover and a movie night.

"Okay we're here." Ellie says stopping at a beautiful lake. You take in the sights, and just can't believe where she took you. It's beautiful.

"Oh my god Els, it's so beautiful! How'd you find it?" You hop off Shimmer and walk closer to the lake.

"I came across this on one of my patrols actually, it's nothing." She looks down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Oh, come on, what do you mean it's nothing? It's everything I could've asked from you!" You go back to where she's standing, placing your hand on hers. She looks at you with flushed cheeks.

"Thank you Els, I love it. I love you." You say then kiss her all of a sudden, taking your hand off of hers then place it around her neck.

"Of course y/n. I have more for you." She places another kiss on your lips, she pulls back and leads you to a table full of delicious snacks. Both of you sit down and enjoy the afternoon in each other presence, then go back to her place when the sun is setting to watch a movie.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

a/n again: it's pretty short and not the best i lowkey hate it but i wanted to write this. if i have more ideas I'll write them! thank you so much if you read it. i might do a poll on what characters y'all want to read about and I'll write a fic based on the results.

[triasticalwarlock]

yandere bob with a reader who has an odd fascination with cannibalism? shes never tried human flesh, but she certainly wouldnt be opposed

Deadly fascination

Hope you like this! Bare with me since like the other characters I write for, I'm still perfecting his personality. But I hope you liked this! Also, sorry if it's short. Enjoy! :)

Pairing- bob velseb x reader

Relationship- Romantic/platonic

Warnings- yandere behavior, cannibalism, when he's a red flag but y/n is color blind, fascination with cannibalism, murder, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, non-con bob,MDNI.

Genre- yandere, fluff(?)

I personally believe that for both regular and yandere bob, they would both be ecstatic. Finding someone who wasn't terrified of them just from this fact, accepting the hunger for flesh without a second. They would be even more happy once they find out about your weird fascination with it, the first thing coming out of their mouth.

"Ya wanna try it?"

For yandere bob, he wouldn't really care if you wanted to try it or not. If he has to, he'll force feed you. While regular bob, will still try to get you to eat it, but will respect your decision after the 2nd time of trying. But knowing how you wouldn't be opposed of trying it, would send bob into a frenzy. Making a whole ass thanksgiving dinner but with human meat for you, standing in front of you. Fidgeting in excitement, waiting to see what you think of it. Now, if you like it, this man is mentally jumping in joy and shouting ' HURRAY!' and then will tell you to keep the eating. If you don't like it, he really doesn't care, will still make you eat it.

If you're fascination is that strong, he'll gladly let you watch him kill and cook his victims. Both Bob's are addicted to your attention, loves it when it's on them. But with yandere bob it amplified by 1000x. So having you watch him is like a blessing to him. Asking him questions about the process with make him rant about all the facts of cannibalism he knows, look at his search history and all of it is just, ' facts about cannibalism'. While he is a cold blooded killer, and cannibal. He is such a goddamn nerd. It's insane how much he knows about this way of eating.

Also, biting. Let's talk about that. If you want to, he'll gladly let you take a bite out of him. Biting and eating your partner is a love language for him. So that means he'll do it to. The places he normally goes for are; the arms, legs, neck, and fingers. But he keeps in mind not to take a bite out of you to much! Wouldn't want you leaving him would we?

Feeling the softness of his stomach Beneath your foldes legs feel like they were on a cloud. His large hands holding your hips just to hold you. Placing your hands on his shoulders, which was covered by his regular blood-red sweater. Sending you a grin, he tilts his head in a curious manner. " Watcha waiten' on suga?" Lifting one of his eye brows at you. You look away for a moment, thinking. " Well, I don't know where to bite you at." Letting out a booming laugh, slightly moving you up and down from your placement on his stomach. Before stilling. Still letting out a few chuckles" Please, hun. I've bittan inta' more people than ya could blink. I'ma be fine." Tilting his head more to give you room, his turtle-neck pulled aside. You nod, deciding to trust him. What else could you do? You knew he would force you if you didn't, he always did. But it wasn't like you wanted to stop, you where just making up scenarios. Leaning into the nave of his neck, you bite down. Not softly, but not rough either. Comfortable. You feel the rumble through his neck when he groans. Knowing him by know that he more than likely had some drool running down his stubbled chin. Lifting your hand, you dig it in his dark, black hair. Massaging his scalp as you bite harder. Making a iron-like taste invade your mouth. You feel Bob's arms wrap around you, pushing you against him harder. The position of your legs making it slightly uncomfortable, but you manage. The sounds falling out of his mouth sound like one of pleasure, not even in a sexual way. Just knowing that you were the one doing this was comforting to him. So, while it last. He indulged as much as he could.

Bob is also fiercely possessive. And just the thought of having a piece of himself inside of you( shut up, I know what you all have going through your heads right now)? Makes him happy, it makes him feel at peace. Because where ever you go he'll always be with you; protecting you, keeping you, owning you. you get this gist. And having a piece If your flesh in him does the same thing. You'll always be with him no matter what.

If you want, he'll let you kill someone yourself! He'll watch like a proud dad as you stab them. Pointing at you and going, 'see that? That's my wife that's killing you' then, he might let you cook with him! The reason that he doesn't do it without some convincing is because cooking for you is one of his pride and joys, mostly his pride. And he likes taking care of you, it makes you rely on him.

But, by some god you do manage to convince him. He'll be instructing and watching your every move. To make sure you don't get hurt and still having some control over your actions. Besides, he was a literal cook once, and he eats human flesh like it's a religion. You know that he knows what he's doing, so you listen.

But overall, regular and yandere bob would be happy with your interest in cannabism. They have your attention on them and are able to be in your presence. Which puts both versions at ease.

Version-not edited. Will if I notice something I didn't before.

[bldngiris]

꒰OKLAHOMA SMOKESHOW ꒱ . . . d winston !

pairing(s) : book! dallas winston x fem!soc! reader

in which y/n dreams of escaping tulsa but her dad is holding her back. however dallas winston listens and yearns.

requested : yes or no.

!! content warnings : yelling, swearing, r's father is an ass, r is a soc but she doesn't like being one, discrimination. movie dallas used only for visuals even though i used blonde book dallas in mind!! mentions of religion, angst

robin chirps : happy easter!! this fic is inspired by oklahoma smokeshow by zach bryan :) bold is the song lyrics!

go on and put on that dress that all the bad boys like.

y/n stood in front of her full-length mirror and took a look at herself one last time before heading out the door. if her father had caught her wearing anything other than appropriate soc attire, she would be done for. the amount of times she had been hit on by cocky high class boys who just wanted to get into her pants was numerous, alas her father didn't care. "you don't want to look like one of those greasy balls of garbage do you?" he would ask her. truth was y/n didn't want to be a soc. sh didn't want to be a greaser either. she wanted to escape tulsa and live in a city without labels and get away from all the hostility stored away in the streets of tulsa.

i know your daddy ain't home so ride with me tonight. you always wind up here in a puddle of tears

y/n had made her way to the diner with her friends. however, her "friends" had left her midway through the walk home to go hang out with a group of other socs. it had started to rain and the closest place y/n could go to was bucks. y/ns feet subconsciously made their way to the building lit by neon beer signs, ignoring the voice in the back of her head saying, "if i catch you 'round one of them greaser places.."

she slowly opened the door to the place, as a mixture of tears, mascara and raindrops ran down her face, her hair sticking to her face, her dress drenched. many eyes were on her as barely, if any, socs came to bucks. whispers, some louder than others presumably by drunk men were heard as y/n sat on one of the bar stools.

them boys are out and they're angry and they're lookin' for blood In the back of a blue old pick up truck. you've got nowhere to go although you're all gussied up

y/n sat at the barstool, a shaggy, pale, blonde boy sat beside her, a malboro cigarette hanging out of his mouth loosely.

"hey man, what're you doin' out here?" he asked the soc, curiously, in a sluggish tone of voice. y/n sniffled.

"my friends left me when we were at the diner, n' i didn't wanna get jumped, it's dangerous walkin' home by myself, y'know." she sniffled again. "plus, it's cold and wet." she paused again. dallas listened, as he hummed and nodded, understanding what she was talking about.

there's so much whiskey in his coke it'll make her nose bend

"that really sucks man," he muttered taking a sip of his whiskey and coke, y/n could smell the drink from her seat. dallas did't turn away or ignore her after that. they spent the next hour talking.

but she swears that his love is a damn god send

don't get me wrong, dallas hated socs. but y/n was different, under the high class, hair done, pretty dress facade, she was a normal girl yearning for more than just a privilege title. the two could relate on another level which dallas had appreciated. dallas and y/n both wanted more or less the same thing, both wanted to escape tulsa, but more or less everything was holding them back from doing so.

she's known god since she was a child, she used to play in the yard and she would dream of one day

y/n played in the front yard of her house with a white picket fence. she saw two kids around her age, playing over by a park around the 'border' between the west and east side.

"hi! im y/n can i play with you?" she asked the three children. they were greaser children, as seen by the difference in their appearance.

'til the world came around and took her dreaming away. told her how to dress and act and smile.

"sure! im soda, thats johnny and that one over there is steve" one said. soon enough, y/n's father had come out of the house, soon following a burst of yelling came about. "y/n get over here and away from that white trash." he exclaimed. y/n wondered, how could a grown adult be so hostile toward children? y/ns father grabbed the little girls hand and took her back over to the freshly painted house on the block.

'y/n, sweetie, you know better than to talk to those type of people." he told her. "now, im sure mrs. sheldon and mrs. valances children would love to play with you hm?" he said. the little girl with pigtails and turned around to watch the greaser kids looking at her sadly, eventually cheering themselves up and laughing softly as they played on the monkey bars.

she's an oklahoma smokeshow. he's an asshole from back home. she'll never make it out alive.

that night, at bucks dallas and y/n talked for hours. y/n told dallas about her image and how she was forced by her father to keep up the good girl act, how every soc guy just wanted to get in her pants and how she's never going to make it out alive.

dallas told her about how he grew up in the streets of brooklyn, new york because his asshole father didn't give a shit about him. his mother and grandmother didn't have enough to provide, because his dad kept taking the profit to the bottle. he ended up in juvi by the time he was ten for theft, trying to provide for his family until he just left and ended up here in tulsa.

that small town bar scene, where small vices kill your big dreams. he'd take you home but he's too drunk to drive.

"but my dad will never let me leave, not until i'm 21 at least, and if i do, he'll list me as a runaway to the police and they'll come and find me." she muttered, solemnly. it was nearly midnight now. dallas way to intoxicated to drive. y/n had used bucks landline to call a cab as she made her way home, thinking of the boy who had changed her life in a mere few hours.

well, I've been here, I've been up all night. thinkin' 'bout a life with you and i. one you'll never know 'cause you're a small town smokeshow.

dallas layed there, head empty except for the thought of y/n. it was nearly 3 in the morning at this point, but all he could think about was the girl who he had just met but felt like they had known each other for years and there he continued dreaming, because unfortunately for him only one of the two got their 'escape' from the prejudice of tulsa, oklahoma. unfortunately, it wasn't y/n. unfortunately, it wasn't the way either of them planned.

[whydoyoucare866]

The Night We Met

PAIRINGS:

Titans! Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce's goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn't know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

A/N: I finally figured out a song to base this chapter off, I’m sorry I went so off with their conversation and didn’t really get anywhere with it, I just really want them to bond and I don’t think ahead of writing I just start and see where it takes me, I know this can be really boring but I want this to be a LONG fic and a slow burn and that can’t happen if the whole plot happens in two chapters so bare with me please!

TWS: slow burn, angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven't decided yet) change of plot

Keep in mind that English is not my first language, I also know nothing about guns, human anatomy or fighting in the language so I'm sorry if I make a lot of mistakes

Gif credits to Titanstv on Pinterest

Story Masterlist / Main Masterlist

You felt a throbbing pain in your head and started slowly opening your eyes and becoming aware of your surroundings, you were trying to figure out how long you had slept for since according to the sky it was night now and you didn't know if it was the next day now or if you had just slept some hours, now that you think of it, you didn't actually remember falling asleep either, well thats what happens when you cry too much after not sleeping for two days i guess, you decided that you would really love a glass of water right now and started making your way to the kitchen, you hoped no one was awake or at home, after your whole emotional moment with Bruce and Alfred you realized how embarrassing it had been to cry your heart out in front of someone who did not even know you and how much of a big deal you had made things that seriously were not that deep, then you cried more of embarrassment, and then you realized how much of a baby you were being, and realized you were really sleep deprived and really needed some sleep.

You arrived to the kitchen and just as luck would have it, there was no other than Jason Todd, the guy who had to awkwardly witness a girl he didn't know sob her eyes out but while thinking about it you realized that making it a bigger deal than it was would only make it actually embarrassing and would probably ruin any chance of friendship with that guy so you decided that you would let it go and it had never happened.

Jason didn't acknowledge you at all, he was too concentrated on eating what he had cooked for himself earlier and honestly he didn't seem like a very social guy so you just let him be.

You reached for a glass but then decided that maybe you should grab a thermos so you could bring it to your room and not have to make your way over to the kitchen every time you were thirsty, the noise made Jason acknowledge you but he just gave you a nod while he looked at you and you just returned it, you went to fill the water and you could still feel Jason staring at you, the environment was really awkward and Jason looked like he wanted to say something, or maybe he just wanted you to leave, well, this was your chance to talk to him, if he didn't want to talk to you back then you would just let him be, no harm in trying to make friends in your own home.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there with Bruce?" you asked him

He shook his head and pointed to his ribcage "got stabbed, Bruce wouldn't allow me to go back out there"

"Huh, how'd you get stabbed?" you asked not being bothered by it, you were used to these kind of things

"Harley" he said nonchalantly

"Oh" you said and nodded at him

"Mhm"

"I thought she hadn't been active in a while?" I said, Dick had told me before he left Bruce that Harley hadn't made an appearance in almost a year and it looked like she might want redemption.

"Yeah but Joker was put back in Arkham some months ago, we thought they had broken up but turns out it was just an act and she was just plotting something to try and get him out or get revenge or something like that, and well i may be skilled but Harley is Harley" he said taking bites of his food.

"Yeah I get you, even I am scared of going against Harley"

"You are? haven't you beaten her like a lot of times?"

"Yeah but miss girl is not just crazy and skilled but she's also in LOVE like not cutesy love, but maniac love that's a dangerous combination" you said in an exaggerated way to get your point across.

"I wouldn't call that love" he said while shaking his head before taking another bite of his food which you had no idea what it was.

"Then what would you call it?"

"Obsession I guess, she's like obsessed with him, she would throw herself against chemicals that will probably kill her if he asked for it... oh wait she already did"

"Yeah, poor girl would give her life for someone who just manipulates her and uses her”

"I mean yeah, but I wouldn't call her poor she's still a psycho" he shrugged.

"Maybe, but she's in love, even if you wouldn't call it that i think i would, its not a healthy love but she just loves him in a really obsessive unhealthy way, also if you see it in a way, we are psychos as well" i say before taking a sip of my water.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he sipped what must be coffee from a mug and looked at me curiously.

"Well, what kind of people just beats up other people every night?"

"Well yeah, but we only beat criminals and people who deserve it, they actually kill" he said trying to defend his point.

"I mean, yeah they may kill and we don't, but what's worse? dying or being paralyzed and basically tortured for life?"

"What do you mean?" he frowned and tilted his head a bit, he was intrigued in the conversation now.

"Well do you honestly think everyone will just be fine after being thrown around and beaten up until the point where you know if you give one more punch they'll die? I mean even professional fighters get brain paralysis or quadriplegic or like vegetative state from a bad blow and they have like precautions in those fights, now imagine in a fight where there's no precautions and the only stop sign is either them going unconscious or them not being able to move or them being a step away from death keep in mind that the criminals that you beat sometimes aren't trained or don't even know how to fight like regular thieves and shit, im obviously not talking about criminals like Ivy or Harley and stuff and a lot of the vigilantes have actually killed at least one person, maybe not intentionally but yeah" I explained to him.

"Huh, I guess if you think about it like that you're right" he nodded and took one last bite out of his plate

"Of course I am, I"m always right" I smiled at him

"Sure you are" he rolled his eyes in a playful way and stood up to wash his dirty dishes.

"I am!" I say pretending to be offended

"Uh huh, whatever you say" he smiled at me, "well, uhm its pretty late and I guess I should try to get some sleep, so see you tomorrow, I guess" he said before starting to head out of the kitchen.

"Sure, goodnight" I said to him.

"Night" He replied before finally leaving the kitchen.

taglist:

@fairyeoll @singitoutgirl26 @mad-die45 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @pariahsparadise

[dracognition]

I absolutely adore your writing!!! The way you write Drarry is so comforting and delicious. Would it be possible for you to do either 67 (Character in peril) or 27 (Sick/Injured fic) with 61 (Love Confession)?

67: character in peril + 61: love confession send me a trope mash-up!

They were going to die.

Harry knew it as surely as he knew his own name. They were locked in a small space, surrounded on all sides: the Mediwizards were a few minutes away yet, and even if they got here they wouldn't be able to make it through the blockade outside. It was a possibility every Auror knew they'd have to face and a possibility Harry'd been facing since he was eleven. They took down the largest cross-breed smuggling ring in all of Europe. He and Malfoy would probably have their names permanently engraved in the DMLE. It was an all-around success, other than the dying thing, so it was—it was fine.

Malfoy's eyes were wide. He was pressed up against Harry, his wand trembling just barely in his hand. Harry could practically hear his jackrabbiting pulse—could see the thin pale shape of his pinched face. "This is it, then," he said. His voice was pitched barely above a whisper.

"Not a bad way to go out." Harry tried for a grin and didn't quite make it there. "Finally got the glory you were always talking about, yeah?"

Malfoy laughed: a choked, humourless thing. "They're going to put a picture of us up in the halls."

"Next to the Dumbledore portrait."

"Ugh," said Malfoy. "Bit ironic, isn't it?"

"You've earned your keep, I think," said Harry absentmindedly. Terribly, unwisely, his attention was focused not on their impending doom—not on the footsteps making their way to the cupboard they'd gotten trapped in, not the bloody death that'd surely follow—but on the small unhappy curve of Malfoy's mouth, the way his hair fell into his eyes.

This is it, he thought, and then he thought: fuck it.

"You can push me away," he said roughly by way of warning, and then he pulled Malfoy into a desperate, hungry kiss. For a moment, Malfoy was entirely still—and then he sprung back, burying his hands in Harry's hair, biting his lip and groaning when Harry made a small noise in response.

"I've," he said around a pant, dropping kisses to Harry's upper lip, his chin, the line of his throat, then, "I'm—I love you. Thought you should know before we—"

"I thought," Harry said breathlessly. "I thought—I never knew—" Distantly, he heard the footsteps quickening, getting closer, and the last thing he'd feel would be Malfoy's mouth hot on his jaw, Malfoy's words plucking at his heart, and maybe this really wasn't a bad way to go out—

"Hm," said Hermione as the door burst open, her mouth doing that thing it did whenever she wanted to smile but was trying very hard to look stern. "Glad to see you two are so focused on the job."

Draco straightened, flushed pink, and staggered to his feet. His robes were rumpled and his tie was askew. Harry was torn between pulling him back down and finding a hole to crawl into and die. "If you hadn't noticed," he said, coolly, "we did the job already. It's finished."

Hermione's lips were still pursed, but when Harry gazed beseechingly at her and asked, "Can we go home and do all the paperwork tomorrow?", she openly laughed and waved them off with a congratulations.

"So," said Harry after a few minutes spent shuffling off the scene in silence. "About that thing you said earlier—"

"Urgh." Malfoy wrenched his face away. "We can just forget about it, please."

"But—" Harry paused, gripped Malfoy's wrist just to have something to hold onto. "But I don't want to."

Malfoy stared at him for three seconds. He was perfectly motionless, his expression as blank as a still pond. He said: "You didn't say it back, over there. So—"

"I thought the kiss was enough of a signal," Harry said drily. Something rippled over Malfoy's face, but it was gone before Harry could read it, and he rolled his eyes. "Obviously I love you too, you idiot; why else would I do that?"

"Us mere mortals don't dare ask why you do anything, Potter," said Malfoy superciliously, but he was smiling, and Harry smiled back.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 25

Warnings: 18+readersonly, oral sex, smut, pet names, King kink

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own a few OCs like Elizabeth, Katherine, Stacy, and Jessie. I do not condone any copying of this.

It had been about two weeks since you had gotten back from the Bahamas. That place had seemed like a dream and a second life. Now, everyone was back in the tower- or traveling between the tower and their countries they governed.

T'Challa and you were privately planning a quiet Wakandan ceremony to officially make you the Queen of Wakanda. Every time you talked about the conversation, you wanted to throw up. The idea of becoming a Queen of a country you didn't belong to was uncomfortable to you. You weren't even sure the people there would appreciate you.

Meanwhile, Thor was working his 'God of Fertility' magic, so that though you were having sex with everyone you were soulmated to, hopefully only T'Challa would take root so that he had an heir to the throne. Which, naturally, sped up T'Challa's want for the ceremony.

Shuri, Okoye, and Nakia were also helping plan this ceremony and you mostly took a backseat, really only inputting what you wanted if it came to a certain colour of the plates or flowers.

You weren't allowed to choose the style of your dress either, but you could at least choose the colour. You just told them to match you to T'Challa because you really didn't want to show up in a colour that would clash with his.

In the meantime, you were also trying out a lot of your traits like the archery and using the flexibility to train. Now that you had mechanical knowledge, Tony was even more excited when you came down to the lab because then you could help him with his projects. Not to mention your photographic memory from Stephen- although now you understood why he couldn't be around the Avengers for more than a few hours at the most.

Y/S/N and you hadn't really had a chance to talk yet between everything about your father's death.

Tony had arranged it so that it was a week after you guys had gotten home from the Bahamas. He had everything planned and neither of you had to lift a finger or push over a penny (although apparently now all of Tony's money was yours so-).

But between recovering a week, the funeral, and now planning for a Wakandan marriage ceremony, you had barely been able to even see her, much less talk to her.

Elizabeth had been sending you update texts. Pietro, who had never lived in the tower anyways, had moved down to Ohio along with Hogun. The two of them shared an apartment that was near Elizabeth's house so that they could continue to court her as she finished up her last year of High School. Pietro however, did come back every weekend so that he could spend time with Jessie and Katherine too.

Vision and Wanda were preparing to go down and see her as well, but both of them were unsure of whether they would stay like the other two or not.

Oh! And Heimdall was down there as well- though only for a few weeks- as he was courting Katerina from gymnastics as well. Apparently they met at the wedding and they found out they were soulmates. Neither of them had any other soulmates so that was kind've cute.

After another week, everything was set. You and T'Challa were the first to arrive in Wakanda. You had gaped, looking out the window, seeing everything that they had built. Everything just looked so intricate, advanced, and beautiful.

"I think you'd like to see where Bucky lived after the Avengers disassembled for a little bit." T'Challa's voice was soft next to your ear.

You nodded and then said, "This place is beautiful T."

T'Challa kissed the back of your ear. "Are you nervous my Nkosazana?"

"A little bit. I don't think your people will like me very much." You admitted. "I mean, from what I know, you have very ancient customs and I. . . I'm not." You gave a laugh. "I mean, you're marrying an outsider."

"We can't help where our soulmates live." T'Challa said simply. "And I wouldn't trade you for any of 'em."

You blushed, turning away from the window so that you could snuggle into T'Challa's side until the quinjet landed.

Shuri, Okoye, and T'Challa's mother, Queen Ramonda, was waiting for us along with another set of the dora milaje were waiting on either side.

You quickly hooked your arm around T'Challa's around the two of you walked down the Quinjet ramp to meet them. Shuri was waiting there in a T-shirt, a pair of long pants, a belt wrapped around the both at the same time. Her hair was tied up in space buns, a choker around her neck.

"Y/N!" She squealed, darting forward to throw her arms around you. You could feel yourself relaxing and smiling as you hugged her back.

Queen Ramonda smiled. She was absolutely stunning, wearing some formal white dress and headdress that you wished you knew the name to.

It was also the first time you had seen Okoye in her full red and silver uniform, her spear in hand. She looked on stoically as though you didn't know each other. But she also looked at T'Challa like that, so it was probably just a thing.

"Welcome to Wakanda Princess Y/N." Queen Ramonda said, setting forward to take your hand.

"Thank you Queen Ramonda." You said awkwardly, hoping beyond hope that you were actually allowed to call her that.

T'Challa smiled, hugging his mother. "Come, let us go inside."

He took you inside, Shuri, and his mother following- which didn't feel right. Then you remembered that she wouldn't even be the Queen anymore since you were married to T'Challa. After the ceremony you would be the Queen of Wakanda.

You nearly threw up right then and there.

T'Challa sensed your nerves, moving his arm from yours, to hook it around your waist, pulling you close to his side, kissing the top of your head, "It's going to be fine, even fun, you'll see my Nkosazana."

You nodded. His voice was alluring and you were sure that everything was going to be alright. There was just a small nagging feeling that you couldn't shake. Although you weren't sure what that nagging thing was.

T'Challa showed you around the entire palace, including Shuri's lab. He showed you the specially designed cryo tank that Bucky had been in until Shuri had managed to fix him, getting rid of his trigger words.

After that, T'Challa led you up to the main wing where Dora Milaje lined the hallways and also where the royal bedrooms were.

He opened up the door, letting the both of you into his room.

You looked around in interest. On your left where you entered, there were several tribal decorations as the wall curved. When the wall flattened out to be straight, there were two bookcases in the wall on either side of the two doors, one of which led to the closet and one that led to the bathroom, before the wall curved again and there were more tribal decorations there as well.

The bed was directly across from the room, white sheets and two pillows propped up against the headboard. It was square shaped and lower to the floor than you would have expected.

In the middle of the room, there was some sort of funnel there where four seats sat underneath it.

"It's the hologram table." T'Challa said, noticing you peering at it curiously. He gave a little laugh, "Because even in sleep a King is never not working."

You nodded, looking at the doors that led out onto a large balcony that overlooked the all of Wakanda. They weren't glass or had any curtains to pull out over them. Instead, they seemed to be woven of metal, small slots between them so that when they were pulled closed, decorative patterns would break out on the floor.

Yellow lights hung everywhere, circular in shape, hanging by metal wire of the same colour.

"I like it." You said, turning to T'Challa with a grin. "It's different and it's very you."

T'Challa checked the one and only clock in the room, "Hmm, we have time before dinner." He picked you up in his arms, bridal style, carrying you over the threshold. "You'll have to let Captain Rogers know about that one."

You giggled at T'Challa's playfulness as he brought you over to the bed, laying you down on it carefully before crawling over you. You kissed him excitedly. "Are we trying out the bed my King?"

He chuckled under his breath, making shivers go down your spine. "Indeed we are Nkosazana." He captured your lips in his again, as his hands slipped down to the hem of the dress you had decided to wear to meet his mother and sister in.

He pulled it upwards, letting you sit up a moment so that you could toss the dress over the side of the bed.

T'Challa pinned your hands lightly above your head with one hand, slowly and sensually kissing up your body. You could feel every spot that his lips lingered. You closed your eyes, lips parted slightly as you felt him press another low kiss right above your belly button.

You flickered your eyes open again as you felt his fingers undo the clasp of your bra, pulling it from your body to join the dress on the floor.

You let out a tiny mewl as his lips wrapped around your nipple. You rubbed your thighs together, wishing that you could get some sort of friction from him. But you also knew that T'Challa was not one to tease either.

"Patience Nkosazana," He murmured, teeth grazing over your now erect nipple, moving over to the other.

Your chest heaved as he finished with your breasts, before moving up to kiss you again. You smiled up at him as he pulled back. He grinned down at you before he pulled your knickers down your legs, tossing them behind him.

He hooked your legs over his shoulders, releasing the hold on your hands as he buried himself in your weeping pussy.

"T!" You gasped, moaning at the feeling of his cool tongue against your hot core, licking you, tasting you. "Oh fuck!"

You could feel his smile, his cheeks growing a little as his smile widened. His hands were firm around your thighs to hold you still. Your hands were gripping the pillow by your head as your orgasm started to build up inside of you. "T I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead my Nkosazana." T'Challa murmured against your lower lips, vibrations pushing you over the cliff, the waterfall dripping down, T'Challa licking up every drop you gave him.

He slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders as you came down from the slight high. He stroked himself a few times before he moved his tip through your wet folds, collecting your slick, before pushing in.

You both moaned at the lovely feeling. Your arms came up, sliding your hands behind the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss as he started to move through you. His hands came down, fingers sliding smoothly down your shoulders as he caressed you tenderly.

Your breaths came out in quick pants as he sped up a little, both of your foreheads together sweetly as he made love to you. "T. . ." You whimpered as the next orgasm came upon you. He sighed in content, "Y/N."

After you both collapsed on the bed, he pulled out of you before heading off to the bathroom to grab a wet washcloth, taking care of you.

"Now then." He said, once you both dressed in fresh, new clothes. "I think we should go downstairs and grace the citizens with our presence, shall we?"

You giggled. You were much more relaxed now that you had spent some time here, "We shall, my King."

[pascalsbby]

The Devil & His Brother / II

Joel x Tommy x You

Prologue / Part I / Masterlist

Summary: “Good, been staring out the window for far too long,” he said. “You can look at something prettier now. Close your eyes, bunny.”

He slipped around on the wetness of your lips before he parted them with one, thick finger.

“Stick out your tongue for me.”

AKA: Bath time with the Millers 😈

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: 18 + mndi, DUBCON DRUG USE: enemies to lovers, heavy talk & use of drugs/pills, morally grey Millers, slow-burn, angst/comfort/sex, age gap, power imbalance, possessive tendencies, major daddy issues (that’s why you need BOTH Miller brothers instead of 1). talk of death, shit-talking god & praying for the devil himself.

I feel like I'm sending out something so personal... and familiar in ways that I know aren't. Maybe that's how memories feel after a while.

God is fucking with my oblivion. If he wants forgiveness, he shouldn't have given us memory.

- Vi Khi Nao

“Can’t do it, Joel.” 

“Goddamnit.” His huff was deep and bothered by your apparent inability to do anything he asked of you.

His anger didn't sit with you, but himself. He didn't really know that, though. Doesn't feel too much beneath the thickness of his skull. Hard-headed fucker.

The scent of you hung leaden in the steam-filled bathroom. Iron. Blood. Something saccharine that made him ache as he peeled your clothes from your weak skin. Lately, his temper has been short, and unbeknownst to you he hasn’t always been this way. Even in recent years. You assumed he was always like this, further etching the lines that softened on his face (only after yelling at you), but he would argue that you were acting like a little fuckin’ brat… so his snippy remarks were justified. 

"Did all the work of carryin' you here and now you're gonna off yourself? Cause you won't let me help you bathe in the only hot bath water you've seen since you were what.... sixteen? M' not that big and scary, Bunny."

You both had your own ways of dealing with things, you guessed. Verbal expression of any kind besides small, whispered sentences had been scarce. Except for when he was angry. Except for right now.

You stopped listening because suddenly nothing seemed to matter too much. It didn’t all feel so black and white; life-ending like he was making it seem, being a real grump. 

“Are you listenin’ to m–?” 

His tuneful voice now sounded hollow as it bounced off of your blurring peripheral vision. 

You didn’t answer Joel, instead, you listened to the music in your head and wondered how it got there. How you got into his arms. 

Joel called Tommy’s name after you stumbled into his warmth. You winced at his raised voice, almost breaking you from a blissful trance. “God damnit Tommy, get in here. I can’t hold her up and wash her at the same time.” Ten minutes of Joel trying to get you in the bath like you were a fucking toddler was enough. He wouldn’t be able to hold your body up and wash you simultaneously, either. It was a two-person job to do it correctly, and gently. 

Tommy returned an hour or so earlier, saying whoever had followed them had taken another way around, but they’d seen fresh hoof marks. “It’s weird Joel,” he said. 

“Fuck, I just washed these jea-“ his voice coming from down the hallway. He turned the corner, changed into clean clothes, and was taken aback by your bare chest staring back at him from underneath Joel’s veined arm. His skin burns into yours.

“What the fuck did you give her?” He was immediately angry. 

Give me? Peace. Radiating warmth, you thought. He didn’t know that you didn’t feel a lot anymore, but you knew deep down that you felt something more for Joel.

 “She’s in pain, Tommy. Only thing she’s felt in the past nine years is pain. Help me get her in here and then take off the fucking jeans then, I don’t care. Get some towels and then get in here. Don’t know how much time we have ‘fore it wears off.” Joel growled. Then you close your eyes and let go, swimming through the low buzz in between their thrown bickers.

He’d talked real sweet to you, in hopes of getting you to take a bath. Mostly because being 'somewhere else' would be best when washing your wound, away from the water gripping at your side. Another small reason was that he didn’t want to hear you mumble, “no,” again. You needed a proper bath if you were ever going to get better. Although you didn’t seem too interested in such

That must have been the extent of Tommy’s anger, because he listens exactly to what Joel says. He unlocks his leather-backed metal belt and it hits the floor in the same instance, cling. He doesn’t mention the pills again, just takes his jeans off before he turns the handles of the running bath off and assumes his position outside of it. Joel takes his own shirt off, skin soft-looking and warm. He was sweating, skin slightly glowing from the sweat reflecting the bathroom lights. You could smell him. He kept his boxers on, still maintaining a sliver of his respect. He was willing his cock to follow the same.

He sunk himself into the bathwater with a deep groan, one of relief. Tommy walked you closer and helped you climb into the bath. It burned, felt like it was boiling. You were standing in it now, between Joel’s legs, hands still enclosed in Tommy’s as he helped you keep your balance. Joel was trying not to think about how your core was aligned perfectly before him as you stood. You turned, ass swaying as you prepared to sit on his clothed lap. They both looked away as your body was fluctuating in the prettiest fucking way they’d both ever seen. 

“S’okay baby, sit down.” You bent down to hold the sides of the tub, letting Tommy go. You were spread open right in front of Joel’s face, the back of your pussy practically calling to him as it finally came in contact with his lap. 

Tommy turns around and sighs before walking out of the bathroom to fetch towels like an obedient dog. Joel shuffled you, with what would have been awkward silence between the three of you if two of you weren’t high. If one of you hadn’t just left the room.

Joel has already swallowed his dusty piece of sanctuary. You had too, in the tea he made you thirty minutes ago. He was dangling another pill in front of you, now that Tommy was out of sight. This time allowing you a choice; rather than remain silent as it swam down your throat.

"Let me help you sum’ more, baby. Gonna give you something to help the hurt. Don’t go running, an’ don't tell Tommy. He wouldn't like that I'm makin’ you feel good."

Telling Tommy would consist of more non-compartmentalized guilt and yet another thing for him to look down upon Joel for. Another bullet point to add to Tommy’s list of Reasons Joel is a Fucking Asshole. And you needed help right now. This is how he could help you. So no, he would not be telling Tommy that he fed the girl more pills, too. She was simply exhausted and needed help bathing. She was in pain and needed him; them. Tommy would have done the same, no?

He slipped around on the wetness of your lips before he parted them with one, thick finger. 

“Stick out your tongue for me.”

He notes your lack of hesitation to open your mouth for him. He places the bitter thing there, gently. 

“Swallow.” 

He smirked as you obeyed.

“You’re a’ good little thing, you know. S'good to listen and mind.” He tucked your hair behind your ear so that it wouldn’t keep falling in your face.

His drugs were now yours. His regrets, too. And he secretly hoped that his desires were burning into your body and being met with the same inner incineration. But he wasn’t regretting it right that moment. Not as he watched your body slacken. He knew your entire being was numb when you were reaching up at him, fingers looking for feeling. 

His thumb ran across the plumpness of your bottom lip and his thighs flexed inadvertently. You felt the small jerk of his body, your eyes drawn upwards meeting his. He felt the moment your breathing became deeper, slipping through his skull and resting on the center of his lust. Then he heard the teetering of the old house as it sang. He heard chatter outside, and it all sounded happy, nothing scary around. He returned to your nose, where a little black wish sat, kissing your cheek. He moved his thumb up to brush the eyelash away and whisper his own silent prayer.

You looked around his face before resting your gaze on his lips, and he knew that you were slipping deeper too. The moment ended in a split second torn into a million, and you were looking him in the eyes. Your pupils are already blown, helpless, and in need of strong arms to hold you upright. It fucking hurt. You hadn’t been so willing without the drugs. The pit of his stomach crawled in need as your back rested against it. Your ass was scooted up, and he could feel the break between your legs, could feel the warmer skin of your pussy kissing his thighs.

He loosely assumed that you’d never been in the bath with a man before, either. Probably never been naked in front of one... or two. And he knew that it shouldn’t be something he was proud of, to have you here, safe in his arms and naked in his bath. But he was. 

“Feel something?”

“Mhmm.” 

He felt your response in the tone of your flexing abdomen. His wide fingertips sink into your cushioned fat and the softness of your stretch marks. It stung, the water, like having his presence near it set it off, simmering around his body, trying to kiss anything of him that it could. The water was pretty pink for a few moments, your body releasing the hold it had on your dried blood and the dirt accompanying it. His hands were occupied by the washcloth he was softly rubbing against your body. Then it was dark, and whenever you looked down it was harder and harder to see the end of his legs, stretching out before and underneath you, holding your body (against his) up. “Fuck me.” It was he who had released that sound.

“Good, been staring out tha’ window for far too long,” he said. “You can look at something prettier now. Close your eyes, bunny.”

You did what Joel wanted of you, and quickly you fell into the heavy light buzzing right outside of yourself like your aura was bouncing off of the smoldering color... like a blanket, maybe. One of blurred confessions and soft, radiating heat. Your arms are heavier but in a slow melting comfort, and it feels like butterflies right above your hip bones crawling right towards your cunt in a low pulse. As if the energy moved and hovered itself into your underwear and is prodding its fingertips into your soaking center, touching every bit of swollen flesh as his fingers disappear into you. But he’s sitting still, you think. He is everywhere but inside of you.

Your memories lilt against your skull, retracting from any indication of themselves. Much of who you were is gone, left in dark patches of shadow and musk. Outlines of a monster (human) ((him)) setting his jaw on your shoulder from behind, willing the air to kiss that spot right under your ear. Your own blood, his sweat. The undulating sway of his plush lips and impending jaw from below. You’d only seen him this way, from below. Like he was something holy, forever above you and rarely looking down. You reach up and feel his face, running the sensitive skin of your fingertips against his stubbly chin and neck. 

-

Most of your time was spent contently sitting in your (Joel’s) favorite chair, the one you hadn't really left or released yourself from, just assuming that it had now formed to your body. Maybe you had melted into the dirty crevices, instead. You wanted nothing more than to sink into it and become a part of the worn and well-loved fabric. No one expected anything of this chair. For it to simply exist confirms its usefulness.

A week or so ago, you had been dying, pooling blood turned your skin terian-like, how the tips of your fingers used to turn in the now-cold bath. He was right– it had been years. This death doesn't feel much different. Just slower. You had been doing better before Tommy left to check the perimeters and outward land of Jackson. They didn’t know that no one would be following you. Or looking for you… needing you. Praying for you.

Joel thinks a lot about the comfort-glaze of your eyes whenever you saw Tommy that day like you’d been happy that he was there to see you off, hold your hand as you looked into the sky and deflate into the ground. He thinks about how you’d probably rather have him here, now.

Maybe that’s what you write in your notebook, still sitting in the chair, but this time with your face turned towards your lap, completely lost under the lamp every night around 10:37.

Maybe that's what is feeding into his mood.

You would have already been in that bath if Tommy were to ask you, rather than Joel. He thinks about how Tommy’s eyes lit up when he first looked into yours, hazel. Gaze flashing as if in recognition of an importance. Joel could see a hint of the brother he once knew, before his world ended. Before all of your worlds ended. He knew in that moment that something shifted for the both of you, but for Joel, it felt like drowning.

He looked at you and he saw the torn, soft skin of a small animal. He didn’t know that the damage was on the inside. 

Joel resented the way he was drawn to you, it made him viscerally angry at himself. He was angry at how calling you baby had been so easy, the way he felt his cock thicken at the sound of your grunt in agreement. Or the smell of you, even though you hadn’t bathed in god knows how fucking long. He pretended it was the drugs, but it wasn’t. These were his secrets and the web was already intertwining with itself. He almost feels like if he were to tug on it now, even more shit would fall out, come unstuck and drag him into the ground to a place where he’s surprised he isn't lying already. 

How can you hide such a carnal want? He’s unfamiliar with the feeling. Uncomfortable with it. 

What would they say? Would Tess say? “One more pussy for you to fuck, Joel? This time it's new and fresh, betcha could teach her a thing or two, huh?” Tess had always been the jealous type, Joel clocked it the first week they met. She hid it well, but you can’t hide from someone who recognizes something in you, because they recognize it in themselves, too. Joel and Tess, Tess and Joel. The town knew there was something happening between the two of them, but no one said anything. They knew Joel was her loyal guard dog.  They knew not to disturb Mr. Miller's peace. He was a kind enough man, besides that.

He was hoping for anything other than to hear the question, "You think you can save this one, too?" He knew that he couldn't. He couldn't promise your safety. However, he could sense that you were in need of it. Perhaps not obviously at first glance; you appeared tough on the surface, but there was something in your eyes that begged him, “Release me. Let me rest.” Something calling his name. He was hearing it now, in the cadence of your voice, whispering around his head as he stopped himself from touching you. 

He knew that they, you, would get him in trouble if he didn’t stop it and try to pawn it off to someone else before it (his desire) got too bad. “Hey, look, she’s with him, not me. Now let me sit and stutter into the darkness while you take the only thing that has made you feel an inch of something in the past month.”

They would chain him up if he ever admitted the level of his desires. Embarrassed at the way he was already entirely attached to you. Something about, “I almost killed you, but let me be the savior. Love me enough to let me swallow you whole,” probably wouldn’t sit too well. 

“Joel?” you questioned, slow and small. 

His skin rises instantly, stunned by your sound and the touch of your body. “What did you–?” he softly shhh’s you because suddenly, the way your body hums into his when you speak is too much. Your hand continues to fall slowly against the thicker hair near his jaw, ghosting over unsaid words and lips. His breathing was becoming too heavy for someone who was just there to be a savior. 

“Gettin’ clean feels good,” his heavy thumbs pinching deeper into skin, voice far away and muffled under yearning, drowning, “don’t it, pretty?” 

You let your arms hit the water, too tired and blissed out to hold them up longer. He chuckled and it rang through every inch of your nude being. The water splashed, and the roundness of Joel’s lower belly retracted quickly from your back, startled by the closeness of your body. You hadn’t felt it before, his whole self pressed firmly against you. The thickness of it. Your thighs oozed over his lap, completely covering him. Your feet ended at almost his mid-leg. He stretched further out in the bath ahead of you. 

Joel didn’t need a verbal response from you. Knew you couldn’t give him one anyway. He knew that he should, that’s the right way to go about this. But he had just carried you over his lap for a week, bleeding out on him, screaming. He would help you relieve yourself, too, when needed. Couldn’t pee by yourself the first couple of days. Didn’t bother him much, not after what he’d seen. He’s had much worse cross his hands. He knew the whole ride back that if you were conscious enough to know that you were still alive, you’d be embarrassed to hell that he would help you off the horse, pull your pants down, and hold you. He couldn’t understand why that had shuffled something inside of him. The point is, he’s seen it all anyway. All of you, physically at least. Now he was simply just helping you out some more. Until you could tell him to stop. It's the least he could do if he really did shoot her.

He watched as they pulled the bullet out of your side, Tommy pale-faced in the corner, shrinking. 

Joel knew you were out from the pain meds they had stuck into your veins, but that wasn’t a good enough promise that you would sit still through it, that it would be painless. 

When you hold more weight, you need a little more. 

He slipped you a little something extra before all the men got there that night to see and help. Your body was lying on his kitchen table, sweating and tired, dying. But you– you were asleep with a soft smile on your lips. He held you still, just just in case, hands pushed down into your cushioned stomach. The other was around your wrists, positioned just above your head so that the ‘doctors’ had room to move freely around your side. It was hard not to stare at a body that looked well-fed and healthy, in a world like this. Your breasts were moving softly with every movement of your body from other hands. Your hair under your arms was dark and visible in the way he was holding your hands above your head.

No one dared speak upon your body with Joel around, especially since he was the one that dragged you in here, meaning you were his property, Miller property, now. 

-

TOMMY looked away upon entering, watching Joel retreat from where he was whispering into your ear. He could hear the bass of his brother's voice, slowly echoing in the hallway. He would pretend, for the sake of his sanity, that he didn’t know exactly what was happening before witnessing it. Especially after Joel had mentioned a couple of times that you seemed closer to his age, meaning keep an eye on this one, brother. “She’d probably like ya more anyway, younger n’ more capable. Bigger name in Jackson, too.” This coming from the mouth of a man who even went as far as to say, “Coulda’ made a good wife,” three hours after shooting her.

People all deal with things differently, he guesses.

It wouldn’t be the first time that he secretly craved something that his big brother was dangling in front of him, knowing that somehow he had the advantage. But then Tommy felt guilty thinking that way. Joel had been through so much and lost too many people for Tommy to get in the way of whatever look took over your body as you sat against his chest, halfway immersed in water and looking up into Joel’s face. You looked more peaceful now than you have at any moment since stepping into this house.

“Come and try to get her, Tommy.” 

But of course, he won’t show that he yearns for you, too. It feels wrong. That Joel was the one to kill you but you were staying with him; that he was your primary safekeeper and healer. You were sitting on his lap, nipples hard and body at attention, peacefully asleep with your cheek pushed up against the hair on Joel's chest, resting in the arms of the man who nearly succeeded at killing you. 

If he were to say anything else, it would be, “I know you fucking drugged her, Joel. N’ you didn’t even give her a choice.” But he didn’t want to wake a sleeping bear, not right now. Not when you looked so peaceful and pain-free for the first time since they grabbed the world from underneath your feet. Not when the very thing Tommy could not stop thinking about was lying on the bear’s chest. 

-

YOU can feel yourself between your legs. It’s the kind of absentee pulse that you almost want to stop, but it feels too good. Light fingertips brushing the hair on the back of your neck. Like that of knowing a lightning storm is crawling its way across the night sky. Or hearing the neighbor roll their trash can down their road, unable to tell if it’s thunder or an earthquake in its deep humming, only to be relieved that it is in fact another human existing in close proximity to you. Although not something that you remember too well now, just the feeling. It’s surprising and suspenseful at the same moment. It’s love and then what comes after. 

There’s always an after. 

Then you feel the drip running from right inside of you into the hot water, against the fluttering of your thickening lips. 

Please. Kiss me here. Hard, hurtful, and sinful. Strip me to my bones and then use them as your toys. Then tell me I’m a good girl and run your hands through my hair. Tell me I fought good and hard and then let me lie here for a while. 

Chanting like a prayer. 

You remember the smell of his lap, much different than the smell of his neck, but still devastatingly carnal. You cradled into the warmth of his neck; in the burn of his embrace and you sat there, teetering between consciousness and the bliss of finally being held. You had always been afraid that you would leave the world and not even be able to wrap your own arms around you. But someone was holding you before the ground will be—  forever. This didn’t feel like dying through. 

This felt like something else. Similar, but different. 

You sat on top of Joel’s lap in the bath for at least an hour, resting your head on his shoulder, turning and resting it against his chest, too. They both washed you, silently eating you up. Tommy stood outside of the bath, combing your hair after Joel ran his gruff hands through it, pawing at your scalp and rubbing the dirt (hurt) from your scalp. No one talked, everyone inside their own thoughts.

Joel was stuck thinking about the small bags of things you had lost grasp on whenever you fell (were shot). It looked like time-worn items that meant something, from before the world was this way. One is an old driver's license- your smile, happy, content, young. Your name, now repeating in Joel’s head over and over, and over and over, coating every inch of him. He still hadn’t heard it come from your lips. 

9 years ago, this all started. You, now in your mid-20s. How long had you been all alone? No one had come running to your corpse. 

They had come to the conclusion that you were doing well on your own. You weren’t skin and bones like most of them who are lucky enough to survive and find their way to Jackson. You were thick, and heavy in the most beautiful way. Heavy meant healthy, able to hunt, and useful. It meant maybe being able to carry children. It meant handfuls of skin and whispered praises. It meant more to wash, to take in, and try not to touch. It was too much for both of them. The only difference is that Joel knew he was a weak man. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he kept feeling this way. 

After they removed you from Joel’s lap, they towel dried you and you slowly became more aware of how different four large hands felt grasping at your body, taking care of you. Helping you.

An hour or so had passed and Tommy was lying in bed next to you, reading something. Joel turned the corner and leaned up against the doorframe. 

“Tommy.” There was tar in his throat, dripping down the back of his tongue and settling in his chest. He was a million pounds and his legs could no longer bear the weight of her. Of you. Of his guilt for slipping your drugs and undressing you in his bathroom. 

He looked into you, bounced off the sides of your mind, and then straight into the bed you were lying upon, sleeping so peacefully next to his brother. Tommy sees the pain in Joel's eyes, hung lower in embarrassment. 

He did this to you. He took the life of someone who had the rest of this fucked up world ahead of her. And it was a slow and painful death, too. You were someone’s daughter. It’s fucked up how the world works like that, huh? It wasn’t enough losing his own daughter- he had to kill someone else too. Does your dad, husband, or mother, feel you slipping from the world? Do they hear hushed whispers in the night of your name leaving something tongue? 

Joel stopped believing in God a long time ago. He was slipping from his grip, facing the fall, and Sarah’s last moments solidified his feet on the ground. Almost under. Still surprised it’s not under. 

“I’ll take her, Joel. In the mornin we’ll pack up some things and go back to my house.” He said softly, nodding and looking down at the ground in an unspoken, “I know.” 

It's Tommy who steps forward, taking charge and offering to care for you. He can sense his brother’s connection to you, why he wants to save you so badly. So much so that he can’t. He doesn’t trust himself for what will happen if someone else dies under his watch, because of him. Someone innocent. “I know she’s sleepin’ but can we have a moment?” Joel asks. 

Tommy doesn’t question him, he marks his page, sets down his book, and carries his body from the bed to the hallway. Joel waited a moment and assured me that you were tucked in well, warm from the bath. He sighed, one of pain. 

“I’m so sorry,” his voice was stern in the way that held back his tears. “You have to believe me,” he whispered your name, the first time it left his tongue and he wanted to say it over and over again. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that to you without askin’.” He caressed your face, watching as your body reacted to his touch, stirring, before the bed creaked with the weight of his body leaving, and then he was gone. You had heard everything, felt him leaving. The room felt entirely too empty.

The Devil was begging you to forgive him, and you wanted to. You wanted to bring your palms together and whisper his name through the cracks, hoping he would hear your silent prayer. “Let me stay here, with you.” 

Tommy entered the room again and sank under the covers. He moved his body closer to you and you decided to bask in it, instead.

-

You wake up, unclear but clean. You don’t remember last night in great detail, or at least a few hours of it, at all. He slept peacefully despite the world’s end, cocooned in a haven his mind crafted. Your mind was far less forgiving— or maybe you still hadn’t learned how to ‘deal with it’. You always felt like everyone dealt with It better. The room lay shrouded in darkness, your thoughts raging, Joel’s words echoed in your mind, etching against the soft inside of your head, deeper with each repetition. His guilty confession and desperate plea for forgiveness replayed. But forgiveness was no longer something you believed in. The world had ended, shattered, and reassembled without remorse. You are sober now. You fall back asleep. 

Your eyes opened again to Tommy caving the bed closer to him, moving your body closer, too. You closed your eyes quickly, away from him, and pretended you hadn’t been awake and listening to the lull of his deep breathing, trying to gain your standing. You felt comforted, waking up next to his freckled shoulders. The hazy light of morning was trailing in from the window and laying out on the carpet, stretching itself in the morning confusion.

There was one thing you were absolutely-fucking-sure about, and it was that Joel Miller had drugged you, and it had secretly awakened something unknown inside of you. It tickled, but it was shoving its way up your stomach and relentless, neverending in its pursuit of something. 

Tommy Miller had saved you. At least he had put you to bed, it seems. And with him, too, rather than the one who seems to be dissolving into his own. Your hair was wet and you smelled like Joel, but you were shrouded in Tommy’s clothes. Slightly more fitting, and better kept together. 

You’d never slept in a bed with a man before. And then all of sudden there were two, interchangeably. Brothers. One that smiled above your eyes and one below. Ones that rocked the bed differently each time their body swam through the damp covers. 

You’d never taken a bath with a man either. Never had anyone's brother ever pulled your sinking body out of bathwater. You remember the inward push of the water and the hands that followed, reaching through it, pushing you forward to Tommy. 

There’s a quick assessment you’ve always done, automatically but unintentionally, “Would this one stop if I asked him to?” Most are ‘no’s. Tommy was a yes in your mind. He would put away his soft, white wings and free you from his divinity if you were to ask.  

~

He was sipping his coffee, dressed in his usual, alone at the table. He had opened the blinds he made sure three times he shut last night. The smoke billowed from the base of the cup into his face and hair, mixing with the silver tuffs. They shone against the darkness at the nape of his neck and the bottom of his chin from the emitting light. 

He looked calm sitting there, as content as a devil could. He felt you before you had even turned the corner upstairs, but he didn’t say anything. He never really did. 

That being said, you can't remember much of anything besides wondering if it was indeed your body that rustled the ground that day. It was, and then you felt a man. A few days could have been weeks, and suddenly you were sitting in a town. A word that didn’t mean too much for a long time, but it did again; sitting at the breakfast table of a man, undulating under his gaze and between the blank spaces of your memory. 

An animal caged inside itself looks for relief in any way it can. Even if the relief is a different kind of pain masked as want. It meant throwing away your expectations and doing what it took to survive. 

You intended on speaking first. Rather, you reached the bottom of the stairs and tucked Tommy’s red flannel across your sparsely clothed body, and suddenly heard, “Shouldn’t be half-naked when Ellie’s here. She’s a kid.”

He didn’t even take the time to move his attention away from his coffee cup. That would be too much effort given to you. You ignored him, wanting to scream, “Was she here last night when you played with me like I was your little fucking doll?” You didn’t give him what he wanted, but still hoping he would give you what you did. 

You had watched the back of your eyelids dance with the small red and green dots for two more hours before getting up, willing remembrance. And oh, did it come.

“Got any more of those?”

“Of what?” He spat, eyebrows lowering in pretend interest in his hot coffee again… into his fuming lap. He knew exactly what the fuck you were talking about. How dare he take advantage of you and then throw it to the side like nothing happened. He was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he got high and took you with him. 

“This is feeling’ a lot different than last night. Those little round things that kept me pliant an’ dead enough for you to press yourself into my naked body? – Joel, do you think I’m not payin’ any fuckin’ attention? The second I tasted the salt on your fingertips, I knew it was you shovin’ pills down my throat. I knew it. And the way you were talking to me, calling me babygirl and sweetheart? Then I didn’t know anything, for a while. Not really. But Tommy,” you were raising your voice now, “Tommy was there too, then I woke up in his bed with his clothes on instead of yours— just tell me what the fuck happened Joel!”  

“Lower your voice, right now.” He was pointing at you, and his body moved closer to yours. “You… you wanted it Bunny,” He growled, “You practically drooled across my palm.” He sighed, gathered the lies from his web, and prepared them. He had already prepared his own cocoon, years ago.

He hadn't been the only one whose high wore off far too early in the night. 

“You didn’t say you didn’t want ‘em and—“ 

Then you spoke above the sentence he was starting to dig deeper into the ground, to his surprise, in a softer tone. One that had a hint of sweetness to it, of want. 

“Sweethear–”

“Do it again. Felt good.”

You liked it. Wasn’t the only thing he wanted to shove down your throat, either. No, no, no. Shaking the thought from his head. 

He removed his eyes from the creases in the wood floor and sewed them into your gaze instead, eyebrows cresting. He wanted to make sure he heard you right. He wanted to hear you repeat it.

“Say that again?”

“Said feels good when you touch me like that. When I’m melting into your flesh and sinking down your bones. That’s what the water felt like. First, it felt like fire, perfect for a Devil, and then it felt like a calm warmth. Then your hands were touchin’ me and, no one has ever touched–

a pause, “like—“

“No one has ever touched you, bunny?”

“No, Joel. And I hate you so much for making me feel this way. For showing me something I can’t continue to have because it’s wrong and, for being so sweet to me and then eating me up like I'm a burden because you couldn't just fucking kill me when you had the chance... and…I can barely even fucking walk. I am in so much pain but you took it away for a while last night. You took everything bad away. Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Hate me, huh? Thas’a strong word for someone who is depending on me, wanting more.” Good. This is how it needed to be. He needed to take care of Ellie, himself now. He promised her that he would.

“Depending on you? Sorry, I forgot we hadn’t got to that part of the conversation yet, past the one where you drugged me. You dropped me into your brother's arms as of last night, didn’t you? I remember it, you musta popped one too many, huh?”

Your attitude and his lack of sleep were making it easier to will the words off the end of his tongue. 

“He seemed better suited for someone…” he looked you up and down, “like yourself.” 

You didn’t have anything to say to that, and he was immediately sorry after speaking about it. 

“For being such a big bad man in this town, you don’t have your fucking shit together,” returning the look he gave you, “do you?”

You were out of breath, releasing too much of yourself into his anger, knees weak and side-splitting in pain. You weren’t going to tell him that you were awake when he begged for your forgiveness. That you heard every word he whispered and repeated it back to yourself as if it was a passage pulled right from the pen-marked Bible your dad used to shove into your hands nightly. 

He thought you had been listening to everyone talking, in the mess hall and whatever drama Ellie had brought home. Maybe even Tommy had told you about the real Joel. The real Joel will tear you apart. 

You sat down on the sunken chestnut couch and the pillows lifted more of his smell into your space, settling and trying to get comfortable. You both remained silent, stung. It made you even more mad that he had the ability to stick straight into your anger like that. So you wished for a way to really hurt him like you were some kind of child.

You weren’t done yet. You were angry. So fucking angry at everything you have endured. And he was standing there, pity and disgust in his eyes–but he was looking, seeing… listening. 

“Tess.” Her name stung like the sound it ended with, for a reason you didn’t know, but inherently felt after last night. The hurt that flashed into his dark pupils spread through the tightness in his jaw.

“Don’t you fuckin-”

“Oh. Shut. Up. Joel. Heard ‘er talking to Tommy last night. Came knocking on the door around 1:30 am, asking for you. Tommy went to your room and you weren’t in there. Went back downstairs and said he couldn't find you, seen you only a couple of hours ago. She was throwing her hands against the door like it was hers to tear down. Guess she didn’t know I wasn’t with you,” you took a deep breath, trying to relieve the pain so you could continue, “Have you seen him? N’ that girl? Tommy, she's a fucking kid. Ain't right for him.” You mimicked her concern. You knew immediately who she was asking for. “Maybe I should go ask Tess if she would give me a few, she seems like she’d like to know what’s going on.” 

His jaw was flexing, his eyes burrowing into you, biting the inside of his lip. You continued, 

“Feels’good being numb for a’while. I’m always fanning off another fire but it always finds the loose thread and kisses it ablaze anyway. This feels like sinking... like I don’t have to fight anymore.”

His deep breath stifled the fire on his chest.

“Know it’s good,” his tone falling deep, low, and warning, “But you don’t need anymore.”

“Don’t I? You were the one who fucking shot me. The least you could do is slip me some pills. I’m in pain, Joel. I’m hurting.” He knew that you weren’t just talking about the wound in your side, that he put it there with his own split metal. He wanted to take that hurt away, get you curled up tight against him and high, painless, protected yet free– from a world you were too young to be living in alone. But how could he protect you from even himself?

He didn't even save her. Nothing has changed now besides the fact he finds it harder and harder to get out of bed every day. That he’s running low on whiskey and that's what keeps the bear inside. The pills keep it sedated. How could he admit that he was not fit to be your protector, and the only other person in town who it could be, was Tommy?

That's why today was the last day you'd be slamming down his stairs. Your footsteps were a reminder that the hurt animal had made its way into his house. A reminder that he was the one who hurt it.“‘M not given’ you anymore. So don’t open your mouth about it again. Got it?"

As always, please let me know if I missed any warnings / want me to add you to the taglist: @worhols @sarap-77 @mishasminion360 @justagalwhowrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @romanarose @milla-frenchy @bandluvr97 @alwaysdjarin @hellfyreroz @northernbluess-blog @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pr0ximamidnight @morgaussy @n7cje @theywhowriteandknowthings @gracie7209 @pedritoferg @twirl731 @k-ra @gintheginger @obscurexsorrows @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @ours-is-a-strange-fate @rayslittlekitten @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrotonin @bluetattoos @sscorpiiio @joeldjarin @faggotinie @justlulu

[wilcze-kudly]

Currently reading "A World Apart" (memoir about his time in the Soviet łagrs by Gustaw Herling-Grudziński) is making me consider an AU where Kuvira actually does suceed in sending Bolin to that re-education camp lol

It would be a hella dark storyline ofc, but interesting both from the perspective of looking at the Earth Empire and at Bolin as a character.

Like Kuvira supporters say that the main reason she was placed in power was to clear out the shocking amount of bandits in the Earth Kingdom. But we never really learn what she did with them. Like yeah she made some of them join her (absolutely wild that we don't talk about that either like girl wtf) but I'm sure there were bandits who didn't? So I assume those got sent to the camps.

I imagine they'd probably play a role similar to the irl urkas, criminals who would often be sent to the łagrs multiple times and were the "ruling caste" between the prisoners, being more used and prone to violence and immoral acts than political prisoners (note here that "political" is used loosely because you really could get sent there for anything.).

Presumably the civilians of the lower rings who raided Ba Sing Se also got sent there, or at least their leaders did. And others who disagreed, expressed any opposition to Kuvira's regime. Of course, Water tribe and Fire nation people would be there too, though they might be sent to camps more forcused on extermination than labour, since ethnic clensing is more into the Nazi part of Kuvira's inspirations.

It would be interesting, but very dark to see how these people are treated by Kuvira because going "oh Kuvira has camps where she puts those who disagree with her and also people of different nationality" and them barely mentioning it again is... well it certainly is a choice.

And the concept of Bolin being put in an environment like that would be a very interesting, if not absolutely horrific storyline.

It was actually surprising common for Soviet loyalists to get placed in the camps, after a minor fuckup or if they're getting blamed for something for example so it wouldn't be out of the question for Bolin a high ranking Earth empire officer to be placed in the camps with literal criminals and victims of the system.

It would be especially interesting because Bolin is semi used to similar environments, like starvation and being surrounded by dangerous people, but he previously had Mako to at least somewhat shield him. But this time Bolin has to go at it alone. And I think that would be fascinating, because Bolin usually does have someone he can trust and follow. But in this AU he would lack that safety net and have to make his own choices about how he handles this difficult situation.

Bolin is also a very kind person, and I think it would hard for him to see the injustice around him. I think this could be a very good "standing up for what he believes in" storyline that tlok tried to have in B4, which it kinda fell flat.

Also of course Bolin would be dealing with the guilt from helping Kuvira build an empire that facilitates this. And also the betrayal from Kuvira manipulating him for so long.

There's so much to work with here, even though it would a very difficult plotline to implement in a show marketed to kids (cowards)

Ah, Things to consider for that tlok rewerite I keep talking about but will probably never actually do

And yeah if you're interested in learning about the łagry I really do recommend "A world Apart" it's beautifully written and very heartwrenching. And it was pretty controversial when it was published due to the outrageous number of Soviet sympathisers at the time, so it's worth to see. I will warn that the book is incredibly heavy though. Like incredibly.

[formulas-bitch]

Mate- Max Verstappen/alpha x mate/reader

3.5k words

As the pale moon cast its silvery glow across the vast expanse of the Atlantic, a lone figure stood atop a cliff, their emerald eyes scanning the horizon. The wind tousled their unruly mane of raven hair, sending shivers down their muscular frame. They were Max Verstappen, the alpha of the Blackwood pack, and tonight, he felt restless. For as long as he could remember, there had been a void in his heart, a longing for something he could not quite put into words. Little did he know that the answer to his restlessness had been standing beside him since they were children, their bond stronger than any force in the world. Her name was Kelsey, and she was his mate. but they didn't know that because she still has to get her wolf which will be in a few weeks.

Max sighed, leaning against the weathered stone wall that had been there since before either of them had been born. His gaze drifted down to where the surf crashed against the jagged rocks below, the white foam glistening in the moonlight. "It's been so long, Kels," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "I don't know how much longer I can go on like this."

Kelsey, who had been quietly sitting next to him, glanced over at him. She could feel the tension radiating off of him, and it made her heart ache. She wished she could take away his pain, make everything better for him. "You know you can always talk to me, Max," she said softly, her voice barely above the sound of the waves. "You don't have to go through this alone."

Max turned his head to look at her, their emerald eyes meeting in the moonlight. He knew that she was his best friend, that there was no one else he trusted more, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth about how he felt. Not yet. Not until he was sure that she felt the same way. "I know," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I just… I don't want to lose you."

Kelsey felt her heart skip a beat at his words. She knew exactly what he meant, and it scared her. She couldn't imagine losing him, not now, not after everything they'd been through together. "You'll never lose me, Max," she said, reaching out to take his hand. "No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."

Her touch seemed to calm him, and he squeezed her hand gratefully. "I know," he said, his voice still rough. "It's just… I've never felt this way about anyone before. It's like my whole world revolves around you, and I don't want anything to change that."

The admission hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Kelsey's heart skipped a beat as she realized what he was saying. She had always known that Max was special to her, but she never expected to feel the same way about him. She took a deep breath, trying to find the words to tell him how she felt.

"Max," she began, her voice barely more than a whisper, "I feel the same way. For as long as I can remember, you've been the only one who's ever truly understood me. And now… now I can't imagine my life without you." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she closed her eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

He looked at her, his emerald eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice little more than a hoarse croak. "Because if you're not… if this is just something that's born out of our friendship, I could never--" as max was about to say something, they both heard a twig snap near then.

They both turned their heads to look in the direction of the sound, their wolf instincts taking over. There, in the shadows, stood a lone figure with wild looking red eyes and foaming by the mouth.

"It's one of them," Kelsey whispered, her heart racing in fear. "We have to get back to the pack." She started to stand, but Max's grip on her hand tightened, keeping her in place.

"No," he said, his voice steady despite the terror that raced through his veins. "We can't go back there. We're too close to finding out what's going on." He glanced at Kelsey, his emerald eyes filled with determination. "We have to face this together." " i have to protect my pack and put an end to this rouge problem "

Max's words seemed to snap something inside Kelsey. She nodded, steeling herself against her fear. "Then let's do it," she said, her voice strong despite the tremor that ran through it. "Together."

" kels you have to go back to the pack house, i cant rick you getting hurt when you haven't gotten your wolf yet" max looked at Kelsey with sad and determined eyes.

Kelsey bit her lip, her heart aching at the thought of leaving Max alone to face whatever was out there. But she knew he was right. She nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll go back, but I'll be right here, waiting for you. I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

He nodded, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "I love you, Kels."

Kelsey felt a lump form in her throat as she returned his gesture, cupping his cheek in her hand. "I love you too, Max. Be careful." With one last look, she turned and darted back into the woods, her heart racing with fear and determination.

As she made her way back to the pack house, Kelsey could feel Max's presence fading with every step she took. The pain of being apart from him was almost unbearable, but she knew she had to focus on getting back safely. The woods seemed eerily silent, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She could sense that something was wrong, that the danger was still out there, waiting for her to make a mistake.

as she was almost to the pack house, she was knocked down all of a sudden , she landed hard on her back, coughing up blood, then she looked up and saw the rouge wolf who attacked her. She growled, then charged at him, but he was faster and slashed her across the face, opening a gash. She yelped in pain and fell back, blood running down her face. She couldn't see clearly, but she could still make out the rouge wolf standing over her. He seemed to be laughing manically, then he bent down, revealing his sharp, bloody teeth. Kelsey knew she had to fight back, she had to protect herself and her pack. With all her strength, she lunged at the rouge wolf, aiming for his throat. But he was too fast and agile, easily dodging her attack. They circled each other, both bloodied and breathing heavily. Kelsey knew it was a losing fight as she didn't have her wolf yet, but she must protect everyone she loved.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over them. Kelsey looked up to see Max, his emerald eyes blazing with anger and determination. He was growling, his wolf form visible even through his human skin. He leapt at the rouge wolf, claws extended. The two males fought fiercely, their bodies moving in a blur of motion. Kelsey could barely keep track of them as they tumbled through the underbrush. Max landed a powerful blow on the rouge wolf, sending him flying through the air. He landed with a thud, his limbs twitching. Max stood over him, breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

Kelsey struggled to her feet, her vision still blurred from the blood loss. She limped over to where the rouge wolf lay, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Max looked at her, his expression apologetic as he recognized the danger she had put herself in. He knew she wasn't yet strong enough to face such a threat alone. With a sigh, he turned back to the rouge wolf, his eyes narrowed in determination. as doing so, what Max and Kelsey didn't notice was another rouge wolf sneaking up behind the. Sudmdenly, the wolf pounced on Kelsey, knocking her to the ground once again. The wolf had slashed Kelsey's side, opening a deep gash. Blood flowed freely from the wound as Kelsey cried out in pain.

Max whirled around, furious at the attack on his mate. He lunged at the second rouge wolf, but it was too fast, darting away through the trees. He growled in frustration, his emerald eyes searching for the intruder. Kelsey struggled to her feet, her vision starting to clear slightly. Max looked at her, concern etched on his features. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

She winced as she moved, blood dripping from the gash on her side. "I-I'm not sure," she managed to say between ragged breaths. "It hurts…" Her legs felt weak, and she feared she might pass out. Max pressed his nose to hers, his breath warm and steady. "I'll take care of you," he promised, his voice firm and reassuring. "We'll get you back to the pack house and tend to your wounds. but first i need to deal with this rouge"

He turned away from her, teeth bared in a snarl, and disappeared into the woods in pursuit of the second rouge wolf. Kelsey forced herself to stand, swaying unsteadily as she did so. She couldn't let herself collapse again. Not now, not when she was so close to safety. She stumbled through the woods, her vision blurring in and out as she fought to stay conscious.

all of a sudden she felt this sharp excreting pain and fell on her knees. she felt her bones snapping in half and realized that she was shifting into her wolf. she closed her eyes in pain and hunched over. she opened her eyes reveling gold eyes and a loud howl. which alerted max as he hurried to finish the rouge to get back to Kelsey quickly.

the pain was excruciating, but she managed to stand on her four legs, her body covered in fur and sharp claws. she looked around, her eyes wild and bloodshot. another rouge wolf appeared in front of her, its fangs bared and saliva dripping from its maw. she growled lowly, her hackles rising. the two wolves circled each other, sizing up the other's strengths and weaknesses.

Just then, she heard Max's voice calling out to her. She could sense his presence nearby, his emerald eyes piercing through the darkness. She wanted nothing more than to join him, to feel his protective embrace once again. But she knew she couldn't leave the second rouge wolf unchallenged. With a final, defiant growl, she charged at the intruder, claws extended and teeth bared. The two wolves met in a frenzied battle, their bodies slamming into each other with bone-shattering force. Sparks flew as their claws connected, leaving deep gashes in the other's flesh.

As the fight raged on, Max circled around them, unsure how to help without endangering Kelsey further. His heart raced as he watched the two wolves grapple, fearing for their safety. Finally, he spotted an opening and darted forward, tackling the second rouge wolf to the ground. The two wolves struggled against each other, but Max's superior strength soon became apparent. He pinned the intruder beneath him, his jaws closing around the other's throat. There was a sickening crunch, and then silence.

Kelsey staggered over to them, her vision still blurry from the pain. She nudged the limp body of the second rouge wolf with her nose, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Max turned his head to look at her, his emerald eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse through the mind link.

She tried to respond, but could only manage a weak whine. Max pressed his muzzle against her side, his warm breath soothing her injured flesh. "Let's get you back to the pack house," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "We need to tend to your wounds."

Kelsey nodded, leaning into his touch. Max placed a paw under her and lifted her up, cradling her in his arms like a pup. The movement caused fresh pain to shoot through her side, but she gritted her teeth and endured it. As they made their way through the woods, she could feel the weight of unconsciousness pressing down on her, threatening to drag her under once more. But she fought against it, refusing to succumb until they were safely back at the pack house.

The air grew cooler as they approached the familiar scent of their territory. Kelsey could hear the distant howls of her packmates, their calls echoing through the trees. Max quickened his pace, anxious to get her back to the safety of the pack house and to the infirmary . The scent of pine and earth filled her nostrils, and she tried to focus on the sensations around her, willing herself to stay awake.

Finally, they emerged from the woods and into the clearing surrounding the pack house. The moonlight cast long shadows across the grounds, illuminating the statuesque figures of the wolves who stood guard at the entrance. Max made his way to the front door, his strides purposeful and determined. As they approached, the guards recognized him and stepped aside, allowing them entry.

The scent of fresh herbs and earth filled Kelsey's nostrils as they were led through the hallways of the pack house. The walls were adorned with tapestries and weapons from centuries past, each one telling a tale of victory and survival. They passed through the great room, where several of Kelsey's packmates were gathered around a crackling fire, their conversations hushed in her presence.

The infirmary was located at the back of the house, its doors closed to all but those in need. Max gently set her down on a comfortable bed, his warm breath caressing her ear. "Rest now," he whispered. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

As her vision began to blur and her limbs grew heavy, Kelsey struggled to keep her eyes open. She felt a stinging sensation as something cold and metallic was pressed against her wound, and then a momentary burning pain as it was cleaned. She fought against the darkness, determined not to succumb until she knew she was safe. But exhaustion won out in the end, and she finally surrendered to the welcome oblivion.

In the morning, Kelsey awoke to the sound of voices outside her door. The sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the infirmary. Her wound had been tended to, and the pain had subsided to a dull ache. She sat up in bed, wincing as her movement sent fresh pains shooting through her side. Max poked his head around the door, his expression concerned.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Kelsey took a deep breath, willing herself to ignore the pain. "Better," she croaked. "Thanks to you." kels replied as she finally looked max in the eyes.

as their eyes connected all max heard in his head from when his dad told him when meeting his mate, " it was Imprinting on someone is like… Like when you see her… Everything changes. All of a sudden, its not gravity holding you to the planet. It's her… Nothing else matters. You would do anything… be anything for her." (thank you jacob black ) max felt the same way, he couldn't help but feel something deep down for her, he didn't know what it was but he knew it was real and it was there, he knew that he would do anything for her, he would be anything for her. soon realized that they were mate, soulmates.

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Good. I'm glad to hear that. You've been through a lot, and you've handled yourself admirably. The pack is proud of you." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Kelsey, there's something I need to ask you. I need you to be honest with me."

Kelsey felt her heart beat a little faster as she met Max's steady gaze. "What is it?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Kelsey," Max began, clearing his throat, "I need to know if you feel the same way. If you… if you would consider being my mate."

Kelsey felt her cheeks flush with heat as she considered his words. She knew what it meant to be a wolf's mate; the bond was deep and unbreakable, a connection that went beyond anything she'd ever experienced before. And as much as she'd tried to deny it, she couldn't help but feel something for Max. Something more than friendship, more than gratitude.

Taking a deep breath, she met his eyes again and nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "I would love to being your mate."

Max's expression softened, and he reached out to take her hand. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I was afraid I'd lost you out there, but I never gave up hope." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "You are my mate, Kelsey.

My everything. And from now on, you're never going to have to face anything alone. I will always be here for you, to protect you and to love you. We will face whatever comes our way, together as mates and as alpha and luna"

As they spoke, Kelsey felt a warmth spread through her body, a connection that seemed to link them in a way she'd never experienced before. It was as if Max was a part of her, and she was a part of him, and together they could face anything. She knew that this bond was not something to be taken lightly, but she also knew that she would not trade it for anything in the world.

"I will always be there for you too," she said, squeezing his hand. "I promise to be the best mate, and luna that I can be. Together, we can lead this pack to greatness."

As they spoke, their bond grew stronger, and Kelsey felt as though she could sense Max's every thought, every emotion. It was both unnerving and incredibly intimate, and she knew that this was only the beginning of what their bond could be.

Outside the room, the rest of the pack was abuzz with news of their mating. They had expected an alpha-beta pairing, but the revelation that Kelsey was their luna sent shockwaves through the group. Many of the younger wolves looked to her with newfound respect, and the older members nodded knowingly, recognizing the strength and resilience it took to survive what she had.

Max and Kelsey's bond was unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. It was not just a mating bond, but a deep and profound connection that went beyond anything they could have imagined. They were inseparable, and it was clear that they would rule the pack together as one.

Their first order of business as mated pair was to strengthen the pack. They worked tirelessly to rebuild the den, repairing the damage done by the rogue attacks and restoring it to its former glory. They trained the younger wolves in the ways of the pack, instilling in them the values of loyalty, honor, and strength. They reestablished alliances with other packs, forging new friendships and ensuring the safety and prosperity of their people.

As their reign continued, Max and Kelsey became known as one of the greatest alpha and luna pairs in the history of the pack. They led the pack through times of peace and war, through feast and famine, always guiding them with wisdom and compassion. Their bond only grew stronger with each passing day, and it was said that the strength of their bond was what kept the pack together when times were toughest.

One of their greatest accomplishments was the founding of a new pack, populated by wolves who had been displaced by conflict or simply seeking a new home. Max and Kelsey welcomed them with open arms, offering their protection and guidance. The two packs became close allies, often working together to ensure the safety and wellbeing of all their people.

Their wisdom and leadership were not limited to the pack; they also served as mediators and advisors to other alphas and lunas who sought their counsel. It was said that their bond was so strong that it allowed them to see things others could not, to understand the complexities of pack dynamics in a way that few ever could.

As the years passed, Max and Kelsey became elder wolves, their bodies beginning to show signs of age, but their spirits remained as strong as ever. They continued to guide and protect their pack, ensuring that their legacy lived on through the generations. They watched with pride as their children and grandchildren took on leadership roles, continuing the work they had started so many years ago.

The world around them changed, but their love for one another remained constant. They faced new challenges, from environmental degradation to the encroachment of human settlements, but they met each obstacle together, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 30 - A Shock to the System

Nothing like marines and stupid people to ruin a girl's good mood.

WC: ~4k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

“MARINE SHIP, GET OF YOUR A- hang on, what the fuck is happening in here?” Kid went from roaring his warning to leaning against the door frame with a smug look on his face. You pushed Heat away and pulled your skirt down before Kid could spend any more time checking out your bare ass, shuffling indignantly off the bed to find your discarded panties. Heat and Killer exchanged annoyed, disappointed groans as they tucked themselves back in and tidied their clothes.

“Nothing is happening, captain,” you muttered, sliding your panties on and grabbing your mask, “because like always, those marine cunts had to go and ruin it. I'm gonna fucking sink their ship.”

“Be my guest, sweetheart,” Kid laughed as you slid past him into the hall, followed closely by Killer and Heat. You didn't even bother to go find your weapons, you'd just use your devil fruit for this one. “We need their eternal pose for the base first though, but once we have it you can feed them to the seakings”

He watched you stomp away down the hall, more than mad that your fun had been ruined, followed by two equally grumpy, half-hard men. He followed Killer as he started to make his way down the hall behind you, more than curious, and a little annoyed, at what he’d walked in on.

“What gives Kil?” Kid groaned as he followed him out to the deck, Killer loading the blades on his punishers, “You share with Heat but not your best friend?”

“You haven't exactly been acting like my friend the last few days, Kid,” Killer replied coldly. “Or been kind to her. I thought you'd be happy for me, but instead you screamed in both of our faces, and haven't bothered to talk to either of us since. And by the way, the door was locked for a reason, you can’t just use your fruit to come busting in whenever the fuck you feel like it”

Heat made himself sparse, not wanting anything to do with the can of worms Killer was opening, opting to follow you instead to bark orders at the newbies. You hadn't had a chance yet to ask the girls what their fighting capabilities were, so you were more than anxious to find out now.

“Kil..” Kid scratched the back of his head as he followed behind the first mate, idly using his fruit to send cannonballs back at the marine ship but not really paying attention. “Can we talk about this? I didn't mean to blow up at you like that yesterday”

“Does now really seem like the time to talk?” Killer pointed at the oncoming marine ship which was almost close enough to board. “Do you even give a shit? Or are you just jealous that I let Heat fuck my girl and not you?”

“Come on man it's not like that…” Kid was following Killer like a puppy as he jumped to the marine ship, activating his punishers and mowing down enemies. “You know how I over react to shit, can we just t-” Killer turned on his heel and sliced the head off a marine who had come inches away from driving his sword through Kid's shoulder. The captain blinked in confusion as the body fell to the ground in front of him, wetting his shoe with blood.

“Can you fucking pay attention?” Killer barked at him before running off to kill more marines, more than sick of this conversation. Kid sighed and grabbed the closest enemy, crushing his skull in his hand. It didn't feel anywhere near as satisfying as it usually did.

Meanwhile, completely oblivious to the argument Kid and Killer were having, you'd gathered the newbies with Heat and were preparing them for their first battle. Heat took charge of the men, while you took care of your assigned wards, the girls. You were pleased to see Hip was brandishing two swords, swinging them in well practised circles to warm up her wrists as she waited for your orders. Dive was rubbing the sides of her face, working out the muscles in her jaw and stretching it open, chomping her sharp teeth together, more than eager to chew on some marines. Quincy stood awkwardly between them, with empty hands and an away with the fairies look on her face, and you sighed deeply that you had to deal with this instead of getting your brains fucked out.

“Quincy, where is your weapon?” You crossed your arms in clear annoyance, “You do have one, don't you? Do you know how to fight?”

“Mmm… oh, yes… my weapon, I have it!” the girl seemed like she had moths for brains, and occasionally one would smack against the flickering lightbulb in her skull allowing for a coherent thought. “Sorry, I didn't know what the bell meant”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and pointed at the marine ship, “Do you think maybe you know what it means now?”

“Mm?” Quincy replied with a slightly tilted head, looking at the ship but clearly not making a connection, “Marines are nice, aren't they?”

You had to laugh, truly, full belly laugh. Dive and Hip were laughing too at Quincy's expense. “Quince, you know we're pirates right? Marines hate pirates. Did you think they were firing cannonballs at us for fun?” Hip explained.

“Oh! Right! Of course!” She hummed, still not making any move to show her weapon.

“Your weapon, Quincy,” you groaned as the marine ship got close enough to almost board, “for the love of Nika where the fuck is your weapon”

“Oh, right here!” She smiled, unfastening the belt of large colourful beads that hung around her waist. She gave the belt a strong flick, as one would a whip, and the balls lit up, small sparks of electricity cracking around them. “Weapon, check!” she smiled.

You breathed a sigh of relief, and were honestly surprised at her chosen weapon. You weren't sure you'd ever seen something like it before. You'd describe it as a ball and chain, but it had multiple balls, and would probably electrocute anyone who touched it. It was like a big, spicy candy necklace. Now that you were sure all three girls were ready to fight you could finally give your orders, right in the nick of time as others started jumping to the marine ship.

“We want to see what the three of you can do, so don't hold back,” you started, “but keep your wits about you, either stay on the Victoria, or be ready to clear out when the order is given. Nobody is coming to fish you out of the drink if you're dumb enough to still be on their ship when I sink it. Now go show them what girls can do”

The three girls cheered and immediately took off towards the enemy, and you had to laugh as Dive immediately launched herself at a marine and he screamed for mercy as she tore his throat out. She looked back at you and gave you a smile and a thumbs up, blood dripping from her sharp toothy grin. You gave her a more than enthusiastic thumbs up back. She moved like a rabid animal, barely touching the ground as she jumped between marines, using the momentum of their falling bodies to fling herself to the next victim of her sharp teeth.

Hip was a graceful fighter, as you had expected. She was fast, perhaps even comparable to Killer, taking advantage of both of her swords to take down multiple enemies at once. Much like Killer as well, she kept low as she ran, and was very light on her feet. You were really starting to wonder if the two of them could be related. She had no trouble cutting down the enemy and had a good sense of her surroundings, easily dodging attacks and readjusting her stance to reply with her own.

Quincy on the other hand was clumsy and slow, but seemed to have a surprising strength to her as she swung her chain of electrified balls around. She was easily taking out rows of three or four men at a time with the length of the chain, but she was slow to move along to the next set, and several times had to have her ass saved by Hip, Dive or yourself. She was definitely going to need some work. You were glad at least to see that the other two girls were holding their own.

You were a woman on a mission, wanting to find the pose as quickly as possible so you could sink this fucking ship and get back to your fun. You didn’t stop as you threaded your way through marines, bodies dropping around you as their hearts exploded whenever they dared to get close enough to you. You made your way into the heart of the ship, using your recently discovered ability to melt walls to get quick glimpses in each room by making small, eye heigh holes, ignoring any room that didn’t look like it would hold a pose and surprising hidden occupants. Hip followed you into the bowels of the ship, finding a room full of snivelling, cowardly marines through one of your peep holes and immediately setting to work cutting them down. Finally you found what seemed to be their navigation room, or maybe their commander’s office, and started rifling through the cabin. You found a safe hidden behind a painting and used your fruit to move the pins into place to unlock it. Inside you found what you were looking for, an eternal pose set to the nearby base, as well as a couple of maps that would be useful for planning the raid and a very nice looking, ornate handgun. Perhaps you could give it to Kid, in the hopes of getting back on his good side. You slid it into the waistband of your skirt, rummaging through the rest of the vault’s contents and grabbing a few important looking journals before heading out. You met Hip on the way, wiping her blade on some poor dead marine’s coat, the room of hiding men now entirely slaughtered. You paused to take note of how many men she’d taken down on her own, nodding in approval with an impressed smirk.

“Go grab the other two and head back to the Vic, and take these,” you shoved the pose and your other finds in her arms, “I’ll go find someone to give the order to clear out.”

Hip gave you an obedient nod to confirm she understood, sheathing one of her swords so she could use one while holding the loot in the other hand. You heard her calling to Dive and Quincy as you appeared back out on deck, scanning the battlefield for another commander and quickly spotting the striped mask of your lover.

“Kil!” you shouted as you ran over to him, taking down a few more marines. He turned to face you, cutting down another marine behind him without even looking, “Got the pose! Get everyone cleared out, I’m going up!” He nodded in response and started barking retreat orders, much to the confusion of the marines who definitely thought they were on the losing side, but began yelling about the pirates being cowards anyway. You began your ascent, moon stepping directly upwards. You made yourself a small platform of vibrating air to rest on as you looked down at the two ships, waiting for the crew to clear off. As the last few Kid Pirate’s returned to the Victoria Punk, Kid used his fruit to push the ships apart, giving enough clearance between the two that the Victoria wouldn’t be damaged in the fallout. The marines were doing their best to shoot at the pirates, but Kid lazily returned the bullets right back at them, while the rest of the crew slaughtered the marines who had been foolish enough to board the Vic. Killer scanned the sky for you, and upon meeting your eyes gave you a thumbs up, You returned it before sending yourself shooting downwards with your usual upside down moon step, flipping halfway to plummet with one extended leg directly towards the centre of the marine ship.

“Meteor Wave, cunts!” you shouted as your foot made contact. For a moment nothing happened, then the entire ship seemed to shudder and cracked right down the centre. You concentrated hard this time to focus your energy in a set line, instead of spreading in an even circle, so you wouldn’t give yourself splinters like last time. It worked a treat, critical system alarms sounding over the marine ship as the survivors screamed and tried to hold on to the sinking halves, slipping and rolling down the deck and into the ocean. You moon stepped back to the Victoria, more than pleased with yourself.

“Nice clean break this time,” Killer noted as you landed elegantly beside him.

“Thanks, I was trying something new,” you smiled, before scanning the deck for your wards. The newbies were all shouting excitedly and showing off, making mock attacks as they recounted the battle to each other. You made your way over, keen to give the girls feedback and praises, as well as scorn Quincy for her lack of spacial awareness.

“Quincy, we need to talk about your- OMPH,” in a prime example of irony, Quincy was showing off her weapon, and didn’t check who was around her before brandishing the chain of brightly coloured balls excitedly, smacking you right in your still healing rib. There was an audible crack, and you began to convulse as the weapon electrocuted you. You had to give it to her, it was fucking effective. You were able to act quick enough to nullify the electricity before it could get lower than your ribcage, but that did little to protect your heart. In your split decision to protect your unborn child, you’d left your own health at risk, and you fell to the ground hard, still convulsing as your upper body cramped and contracted uncontrollably. Quincy screamed and deactivated her weapon far too late and Killer quickly shoved her and the other newbies aside to get to you.

Your heart was running far too fast as your muscles finally started to relax, and you could see Killer’s mouth moving but couldn’t hear anything over the loud, high-pitched whine in your ear, probably from hitting your head as you fell. Your heart was your major problem right now though, so with a shaky hand you pressed a palm against your chest, willing the small electric pulses that usually ran through your nerves to return to the familiar, healthy pattern they should be in. You gasped for air and nearly screamed as you felt your heart stop for a moment, before quickly returning back to its usual smooth rhythm. You let yourself ragdoll as Killer picked you up, vaguely noting the flash of red hair and concerned frown on your captain before closing your tired eyes.

Everything hurt. Your ribs, your skin where the weapon had made contact, your muscles, which all felt like you’d been wrung out like a wet towel. It hurt to breathe and despite your heart being in a normal rhythm now, it was hard to take a deep breath with the sharp ache in your chest. Every step Killer took jostled you and sent a sharp ache through your upper body, and your head throbbed more and more as sound slowly came back to you. Your chest felt like it was on fire, and your clothes pulled funny against your skin every time you got shifted. You could faintly smell burnt flesh, and it only added to your nausea. You could rest easy that no damage had been done to your lower body, but you wondered if you’d inadvertently concentrated the shock in your upper body by not letting it spread. Though for some reason there was a sharp pain in one of your thighs, and the vague feeling of liquid sliding over your skin, and you wondered if you’d landed on something pointy. If you'd been smarter, or stronger, you would have protected your whole self from the electricity, but you were tired from taking down the marine ship. Whenever you tried to open your eyes you felt dizzy and nauseous, no doubt from the lingering effects of your heart stopping. You head felt like it was in a vice and you would have gagged if it didn't hurt so damn much to move.

You vaguely registered the change in scenery as you were placed on a flat surface, no doubt in the infirmary judging by the blinding lighting above you. Killer's striped mask was replaced by the Doc's orange mohawk, and a small sting in your inner elbow indicated the insertion of an IV line. Slowly the lights became less blinding and the nausea faded as whatever Mohawk had given you started to kick in, but you still felt unbearably tired.

“Uh, no sleeping girlie,” you vaguely made out Mohawk's words as he applied small smacks to the side of your face, not enough to hurt but enough to ground you. Something else was added to your IV and the murkiness of fatigue faded a little, enough to attempt to sit yourself up. Killer was behind you in a flash, supporting your shoulders to help keep you from flopping back down, which you definitely would have done without him holding you.

You could see now that the pain in your leg was caused by a wound, which was bleeding profusely as Mohawk attempted to slow it. You blinked in confusion at the hole, with no idea how that had happened. The light-headedness returned and everything went dark for a moment, your eyes opening again to find yourself flat on the bed once more, Killer's unmasked face looking down at you, a concerned scowl on his face. There was the occasional flash of red in your peripheral, always followed by Killer barking in its direction. You closed your eyes again and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Your eyes opened slowly, your eyelids actively fighting your orders to move, the light burning your retinas and forcing you to squint. Someone had definitely removed your mask, and you wished you still had it on to shield you from a little of the bright overhead lights. You slowly became aware of your body, but it didn't hurt as bad as you expected it to - Mohawk no doubt had you pumped full of strong painkillers. There was a rhythmic beep nearby, and a faint snoring beside you. You turned your head towards the sound, finding Killer sleeping silently in a chair, his arms crossed and his unmasked head lolled back. But more surprisingly, Kid was asleep on the floor next to him, the captain's head resting on Killer's thigh as he snored. You wondered if they'd come to an understanding, or if Kid had just forced Killer to let him stay.

You sat up slowly, on one part because you weren't sure of the damage done to your body, and on the other because you didn't want to wake the sleeping duo. They looked kinda cute like that to be honest, and you were pretty sure it was the first time in days that they'd been in the same room without arguing. You had no idea how much time had passed while you were out cold, there weren't any windows in the infirmary so you couldn't see if it was dark out or not, but you must have been out for a while for Killer to have fallen asleep. Your head was still a little funny, but it didn't feel anywhere near as bad as before, and you only felt like vomiting a tiny bit. Now that you were sitting up you could see the extent of the damage, lifting the thin blanket to find you were only wearing your underwear. There was a bandage around your torso, covering your breasts, and another around your right thigh, a small spot of dried blood staining it. The bandage around your chest felt like it was sticking to you, and you wondered if the electricity had burned your skin. The thigh injury was a mystery though, you couldn't wrap your head around how that had happened.

Your arms felt stiff, no doubt from the overuse of muscles during convulsions, and you saw that the IV now included an almost empty bag of blood. Suddenly remembering your passenger you flipped your seastone bracelet, using your enhanced vision to examine your own abdomen. Inside it you could see the protective fluid filled sac of your womb, and within it your little jellybean, with its own teeny tiny heart beating without a care in the world. You'd never even considered looking at it before, it was strange to see it in the flesh instead of just a grainy white dot on a screen, somehow it made it all the more real and a little scarier. You let out a heavy sigh and flipped your bracelet back, laying back down on the bed.

Your small sigh was enough to alert Killer that you were awake, and his head shot up to look at you, before back down at the weight on his thigh with a raised brow. You snorted at his confusion, he seemed just as surprised as you had been to see Kid there. He gave Kid an unceremonious shove, and the captain woke up with a grumble before quickly standing and rubbing his eyes with the palm of his flesh hand. Killer tutted and made his way to your side, taking your hand in his, while his other hand rested on your belly.

“Baby is fine,” you assured him, putting your hand over his, “I just checked”

“How do you feel?” He asked, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Like fucking garbage,” you groaned as Killer helped you sit up, “but it doesn't hurt too bad in retrospect. What the fuck happened to my leg though?”

Kid stomped over and placed something on your legs over the blanket. The fucking gun you'd taken from the safe. You'd completely forgotten about it, the electricity must have been enough of a spark to set it off while it was tucked into your waistband. You groaned and rolled your eyes, just your fucking luck, you try to do something nice and you get shot in the fucking leg.

“Why did you have a gun on you?” Kid asked curiously.

“I thought you might like it,” you mumbled, “I think the better question here is who leaves a loaded gun in their safe. It's not like they were planning to use it, they had plenty of other weapons”

“You got this from a safe?” Kid picked it up and inspected it closer, making an amused huff. “It's pretty nice, well made by the looks of it, wonder what makes it special enough to keep it in a safe. I'll have to do some research”

“Stupid fucking thing better be worth something,” you grumbled as you picked at the bandages on your chest, trying to look under them. Killer stilled your hands before you could get a good look.

“Your chest is burnt pretty bad,” he explained, “the electricity blistered your skin. Mohawk said it's not muscle deep though, more like a severe sunburn”

You groaned and flopped down on the bed, covering your face with your hands. “Can't I just have one fucking week where I don't end up in a doctor's office?”

“Tell me about it,” Kid scoffed. You shot back up and stared daggers at him.

“Oh you can fucking talk,” you pointed an accusing finger at him, “its your fucking floozy who did this. Did you even check if she could fight before bringing her on board, or were you too busy getting your dick wet? She'd be dead ten times over if it wasn't for the rest of us covering her back today, and now look what's fucking happened. We weren't even in battle anymore! She has no fucking sense of self preservation or awareness of her surroundings! And frankly, she's about as fucking smart as a slice of moldy cheese, in fact I think the mold would have more coherent thoughts!”

“She said she could fight…” Kid mumbled, looking away like a child scorned.

“Well she can certainly fucking cause bodily harm!” You yelled at him, “and if it wasn't for my devil fruit my unborn child would be fucking dead because of her, not that you'd fucking care! When I said I could protect myself I didn't think it would have to be against your fucking whore!”

Kid stood tall and growled, but you stood your ground, staring him down with an equally dangerous look on your face. The machine that had been monitoring your heart suddenly started making an alarm, and Mohawk came rushing in on hearing it. He'd been outside, on his way in to check on you but hesitant to enter and get caught in the crossfire of the argument. Your breaths were coming in harsh and ragged as your heart raced, one fist clawing at your chest as you struggled to catch enough air. Killer urged you to lay down while Mohawk checked the machine and injected something into your IV line, the machine's alarm stopping as your heart rate came down and your breathing returned to normal.

“Kid, I think it'd be best if you leave,” Killer said flatly, not even bothering to look in the red head's direction. Kid grumbled to himself, sliding the gun you'd looted back into his belt and making for the door. He paused with his hand on it, the door half open.

“For what it's worth,” he sighed to himself, “I do care about your kid, even if you don't believe it.” And with that he left, not waiting for a reply, the door swinging on its two way hinges behind him.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

[neuroprincess]

August - Larissa Weems/Female Reader - Part Two

Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Summary: After knowing about August's existence, Larissa tries to get closer to the teenager and making it work can be difficult when both are socially awkward.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: OC (original character)

Word count: +2700

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four (soon)

Unrevised

The teenager takes a bite of apple as she stares at the courtyard distractedly, the social groups are dispersed, gathered together talking about random things, mostly about Rave'N Ball which soon became the main topic. Everyone seems excited describing their party clothes bought especially for the day and who they would bring, she knows she should be excited about the same things or at least pretend so she could socialize with them, but she isn't and can't, the only promising thing about the ball is the food and dancing. She loves to dance, since childhood it seems to be the best way to express herself, more than words anyway. At the age of four she started ballet classes and continued performing until 13 when she had a growth spurt, being too tall and with an inadequate bone structure to continue being a dancer, August used her abilities as much as she could to continue dancing and in the end had to let go when mom found out, disapproving. Y/N understood the motivations, it was the girl's first individual interest and something she had devoted herself to for years, this didn't negate the fact that using shapeshifting is a type of cheating and this consumed a lot of her daily energy to continue with the farce. Besides, where they were living was not very kind to any outcast and unsafe for someone like the teenager, in the end they had to resort to the most radical alternative, sending her to Nevermore. Learning things that she, as a mom and normie, could never teach.

August takes one last bite before discarding the rest of the fruit in the trashcan next to the bench she is sitting on, as turning around she notices the presence of the principal almost next to her, standing looking at some vague point pretending to be analyzing the students, except for her as if barely acknowledging her presence. The girl waves a hand in greeting to get her attention and succeeds, they exchange a quick smile and nod, looking back to the courtyard. It's awkward, none of them like this atmosphere and at the same time they don't make the first move towards a real conversation.

"I... I heard that you haven't been using your abilities for two days now." the blonde begins running over the first few words before continuing "How do you feel about that?"

"It's boring, I confess my life seemed easier. And some people just won't stop staring at me."

"Well, you're pretty and tall, you draw attention from boys and girls." Larissa tries to hit back with positive points and winks to her "Anyone interesting?"

She notices how the girl unconsciously stares at a specific group and looks away blushing, redness taking over cheeks and ears. August just whispers "No." and stares at her confused, she thinks that somehow it's not normal for the principal to ask questions like that. But this is a new world which she is still learning the rules.

"Right... have you already been introduced to your classmates?"

"Not exactly, that blonde werewolf talked to me the first day and told me who was who, after that we never talked again." the teenager shrugs shoulders about the fact, she had met a few students who either seemed intimidated or didn't even bother to introduce themselves properly "And that's okay, I'm trying things on my own."

"I understand." neither of them knows what to say anymore, remaining in a silence for minutes that isn't uncomfortable despite the growing anxiety in the pit of their stomachs. She knows August is talking about Enid and it's her group that she has unintentionally stared at. The girl stands up slowly when she notices some students are already gathering for class "Your uniform looks very... short."

Larissa notices that when the teenager stands, they are 6 inches apart, the uniform set with the skirt, which should be just past her knees, looks too small for her size, like it shrunk in the dryer or something. The sweater is tucked tighter against the body instead of being comfortably loose around her, the shoes look slightly uncomfortable, and the skirt that should be below the knee reaches her knees.

"Oh, that! I guess I spent so much time changing my form that I didn't even realize I had another growth spurt, I just forgot to warn Mama. I could take care of it with my own hands, but shapeshifting is out of our deal." the girl straightened the clothes on her body trying to make them conform to the uniform as best as she could, feeling embarrassed by the situation "I think I can handle 5 days until I can use my abilities again." she whispers the last part for only the two to hear.

"Why don't you tell your mother? I'm sure soon you will stop growing and be able to wear only a size of clothes." "Because that's how it happened to me" the blonde mentally adds, in her school days she had to change the size of her clothes and shoes three times. Growing pains as a teenager, her mother always told her on the way to the mall to buy more clothes. Victoria Weems is as tall as her daughter and apparently the girl inherited that from them, even if Y/N's genes allow her to be a little shorter than the two older Weems "I'm sure she'll buy."

"I'm sure too and that's exactly the point." she says simply, her tone making it clear that she doesn't want to continue the topic, then puts the backpack on shoulders "I have to go, botany class now."

"Right! August, think carefully about the ball, it's not mandatory, but it's a great experience and you have a week to prepare." the principal blinks as the girl walks past her, in response she just gets a shy smile.

Larissa smiles back and as soon as the teenager disappears from her vision she turns to the group of students where Enid is, Wednesday with her, Xavier a short distance away from them, Bianca, Divina and Yoko are nearby talking to the duo, the new student doesn't seem interested keeping the same expression as always, which sends a shiver down her spine when directed at her as Addams realizes the tall woman is staring. The blonde immediately turns to go back to her office, pretending this moment didn't happen, even being a teenager she gives her some chills, not that she is scary but yes her actions, she doesn't know what to expect from her.

On the way through the halls Lara August doesn't leave her mind. First, as principal for many years and past hundreds of students, she didn't believe August would follow through on the deal so easily, the next day the fountain was completely clean and more than before, once again Larissa found herself looking for her, this time knowing who to look for and not found her. What made her upset was the possibility that the girl had gone back to using the abilities to hide from her, a possibility soon denied by Thornhill who had the girl as a helper most part of the day and claimed she saw her go straight to the dormitory. Second, she learned more about her supposed daughter, August sleeps in Ophelia Hall sharing a room with a psychic outcast, the academic curriculum is focused on history and literature, she tried fencing and left when Bianca beat her in 10 seconds, after being rejected by the yearbook she is still looking for an extracurricular activity. And last and not least, that the teenager loves hot chocolate, or should at least like it a lot, because Larissa has seen her drink many cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream this morning for breakfast.

And something struck her as she analyzed the short conversation they had at the break, the group that Lara stared at was precisely Enid's... with Wednesday. It couldn't be possible, she wished there wasn't the slightest chance that the blonde was liking the other girl. Not only would it be ironic considering her own past with Morticia, it would also be Y/N's ruin and maybe August's, because as far as anyone can tell the two are complete opposites. Perhaps, with some hope, her possible love interest could be any of the other girls or even Xavier.

"I wonder if this is how parents feel or act when their children are having a crush on someone."

The day is already over for the Nevermore students, most of them have finished dinner, going to their respective dormitories or gathering in common rooms to study for exams the next day. August doesn't feel the need to spend her evening like this after having dedicated all her free hours to it, she sees how desperate everyone is about some difficult subjects and wonders if she should approach them for help, giving up the idea when they find the answer by themselves or with the help of Bianca, who majestically walks around the tables helping their classmates with small things as if she has all the content memorized in her brilliant mind and making a point of showing how intelligent she is. The shapeshifter tries to be discreet as she stares at their interactions, knowing she is failing in this as her eyes can't leave her until the other notices, Bianca frowns as their gazes meet. August turns face quickly and places her hands on cheeks knowing she must be blushing, this is how it works, when in her normal form the pale skin gives way with annoying ease. It's not like she knows how to hide reactions and emotions either, another part of her socially maladjusted personality.

"Hey, white head!" the siren calls out approaching her, laughing when she notices how the girl stiffens at the desk, dropping the book she was reading and slowly turns to look, confusion in her eyes wondering if it was she who was called "Yes, you. Are you having a hard time too?"

"Yeah, no, I mean no. I've been studying all day." she stutters, trying to look anywhere but Barclay's intimidating eyes.

"I see. So do you have a problem with me?" the question is direct and sincere, too direct for the blonde's conversational standards.

"No, never, I'm... I'm sorry." the two stare at each other for a few seconds that seem tense and that atmosphere is cut off by the queen bee's loud laugh, August not sure how to feel about this reaction, even more confused.

"You were staring at me."

"I didn't even realize. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." she swallows dryly and finally gets up the courage to look her in the eyes, feeling legs getting weak and maybe pressure dropping along with it, if she wasn't sitting up she would probably fall to knees on the floor.

"It's all right. Well, if that's it..." Bianca says casually ready to go to another table to offer help.

"Bianca! Actually..." the shapeshifter takes a deep breath trying to gather courage to continue "I need help, not with the exams. I'm terrible at fencing, you know that, you're the one who made me kiss the ground a month ago." the two laugh for different reasons remembering of her first fencing lesson "Could you give me some lessons or some help? Please."

"Sure! Maybe after the ball, you have the potential for a good opponent, Lara."

"Thank you..."

As soon as the siren gives back August gets up gathering her belongings and tries to leave the common room as discreetly as possible, a difficult task when she messes with the strap of the backpack attached to the chair and quick steps that make the shoes resonate on the floor. "She knows my name! She knows my fucking name!" is the only thing the blonde can think of while running to her dorm, avoiding curious and even judging glances at the big smile on her lips. When she enters the bedroom she seems to be walking on clouds and suddenly feels silly for acting this way just because Bianca Barclay knows her name, maybe it's no big deal, she is a brilliant student with a great memory, or maybe it's too much because after all she is the queen bee while August is another teen without any highlight and who would never draw her attention. August sighs and walks to her side of the room throwing the backpack on the bed, that's when she notices a perfectly wrapped red package on top of the blankets, she stares at it confused, for a moment believes that maybe it's a gift for her roommate and they got the sides confused, but there is a note with her full name written in cursive handwriting.

The package is opened with care, the ribbons undo the lace to reveal a complete uniform set, from blazer to shoes, what makes her happiest is the skirt in the right size looking perfectly cut for her slim and tall body. She looks at herself in the mirror with the skirt clinging to the body, loving how it looks, she would no longer have to adjust every time she sits down or stands up and that is a great relief. All the items are folded up again to be stored and only then August notices something at the bottom of the package, she pulls out a small thick black book with gold details, Good Omens by Neil Gaiman. Next to it a note attached written "It's one of my favorite books, maybe you'll like it too. Good read, August." and immediately she knows who gave her the package. Principal Weems. The only person in the academy who knows how she likes to be called and uses the name. No matter how stubborn and proud she is felt good to earn it from her, almost hugged for someone other than her mom caring about her.

Another morning begins with Larissa comfortably working on her laptop, it's one of the rare occasions when it's calm, especially with the recent events in Jericho and Nevermore, of course, over the question of a certain student's motherhood. Momentarily the tension was lifted from her shoulders and she felt good, relaxing against the chair. Eyes closed thinking of good times, both past and present. She remembers clearly the day she met Y/N, ten years younger, cheerful and spirited, always friendly when she served her a cup of tea. Their first kiss in front of Larissa's apartment, her former home when only a teacher. They barely had a first date before falling into each other's arms, drunk on love... and wine. She sighs remembering those nights on weekends when they bought bottles to accompany home-cooked dinners and it always ended in the same thing. She can remember the young woman's face in vivid details, it's surreal.

And she comes to the realization that there is one more thing to take care of, to finally talk to Y/N, two days earlier all the courage she had gathered to make that call crumbled as soon she heard her voice on the other side of the phone. She hung up without saying anything, hoping that the other woman would think it was a wrong call or just someone making a prank. When there was no return call she knew she was safe and initiated a plan, not very complex, but still important and difficult to approach the teenager. If was any other child she knows it would be easier, but every time she is around August can't stop thinking that this girl is her daughter, even if there isn't a DNA test to prove it yet, imagining how she must have been as a kid, about who she is, what she likes or dislikes, the guilt eating her up inside every second she spends next to her.

"August, what..." she whispers startled when the girl opens the office doors unceremoniously, she is red and disheveled hair evidencing that she ran all the way there "I see you are wearing the..."

"I thought we had an deal, Principal Weems!" she almost shouts interrupting the older woman, to the surprise of both of them "I tried to behave, to fulfill our deal, I'm not even using my abilities. And you betrayed me! I feel dumb for trusting an adult."

"What are you talking about, Lara August?" Larissa doesn't know if she is confused or angry at the teenager's attitude, her tone of voice expresses that.

"You weren't supposed to call my mom and you called her."

"I didn't..."

"She's here!"

"Shit!"

"Yeah, shit!"

"Watch your mouth, young lady!"

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @scarr0713 @missdowling @dvrkhcld @heidss @loudchaoscoffee @xvyzxx

Join my taglist here ^^

[cafeinthemoon]

King - Chapter IV

Chapter 4

Wordcount 3,8k

Title Your Voice

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: mentions of nudity; mentions of pain/aching and physical discomfort; slightly angsty and tense tbh

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I still didn't talk about it, but the notes in Italic that preceded Chapter I and the current Chapter are actually lessons from reader's mother, most of them taught during reader's childhood. They are based on her mother's personal experience as a woman and her views on marriage and parenthood, which will be explored in the future, since they're deeply connected to the reasons why reader became Poseidon's wife. Reader's mission in the Kingdom of the Seas is obviously more than survive: as she learns about life and the rules of her new house, she will find opportunities to proof her mother's views right or wrong, as well as to discover secrets about her mother's past that might affect her future.

Also back with this gif bc I love it sm 🥰

They know they cannot tame us completely, so they invent ways to keep us locked. The first thing they do is to turn you into a wife. The second is turn you into a mother. The less time you have to think and to learn, the less power you have over yourself, and so is the will to speak for yourself. When you reach this point, it is over for you. When a woman wants to escape this, she often submits to craziness, sorcery or crimes, but none of these will grant her happiness, or so my experience says. On the other hand, being tamed and silenced will not make you happy either.

Do you remember what we, merchants, always say? Our voice, when well used, can be more precious than the gold we trade. Understand this, child: a woman’s voice is her freedom, and her freedom is gold. To protect your freedom, you must to learn how and when to use your voice.

I’m drowning. I’m in the depths of the ocean, and I can’t get out.

As the King of the Seas was making you his, this was the only thing you could think of.

The indigo curtains, seen from the canopy’s interior, were turned black to your blurry sight, and the size of the mattress made it impossible for you to reach their edges; the sheets, slipping under your body like silk, were cold when you first touched them, but now the heat of the activities over them went through the fabric, and you felt them clinging to your sweaty skin at each movement.

He was now using his legs to keep yours in place, and as one of his hands held your left arm, the other kept a firm grip on your waist, maintaining the closeness while he used his lips on your mouth, your chin and neck. You could hardly move on your own, but it wasn’t like you needed it: Poseidon considered that most of the work was supposed to be done by himself, and in the name of his pride he would insist on it even when you were willing to do your part. Not that he was brute or was unsure of what to do, of course – he knew exactly how to be good to his woman, quickly discovering where to touch and where to caress, taking the best out of you – but he was a god, and god’s ego was unparalleled.

I’m drowning, and he won’t let me reach the surface.

However, as much as his experience and boldness made everything special, this was also the biggest issue of this union: compared to him, you were frail and small, so your limbs succumbed before his strength and your body found hard to follow his pace after little time; with the weight of his body over yours, the steamy air barely filled your lungs, and his grip made it impossible for you to do things such as raising your hands to touch him.

Still, you watched your desire for him grow, so you wanted, you expected him to carry on: the taste of his lips had you addicted, and his scent on your nostrils was intoxicating. Like someone caught in the middle of strong waves, who finds a curious, new pleasure in their crashes against their skin, you found yourself wishing to see him crush, tear you apart, take everything out of you until there was nothing left.

I’m drowning... but I don’t want to escape.

This thought had you scared when it crossed your mind. You supposed that this was what people called a god’s enchantment, the reason why many couldn’t say no to become their lovers, to have their children or even to die or to be cursed for their sake.

This is how he keeps so many of us under his control, then.

Now you were gasping for air, your eyes burning with tears, and your body started to ache. Poseidon had his hands on your hips now, keeping you in place as he kissed your cheek. If you didn’t want to get hurt, you would need him to go easier, but would him hear you for a second time? Would you be testing his patience with this?

For the sake of your well-being, you decided to risk.

– P-Poseidon-sama… – you whispered, your hands on his shoulders – I can’t breathe…

For a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you, but you sighed in relief when he stopped at last, taking his chest off yours. Your lungs were immediately filled with hot air, and for a moment you were unable to speak.

– Look at you – you felt his fingers brushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead – So fragile that I could break you if I kept going… It is even pathetic…

You bit your lip to avoid an irritated reaction: yes, you weren’t expecting a formal apology for the state he put you in, but blaming you for it was too much. He laughed, as if your anger was too cute for him to take it seriously, and sat on the bed, taking you with him and adjusting you on his lap; your legs ached a bit, but at least you could breathe freely now. You leaned your hands on his shoulders as to seek for balance, and his hands kept a strong grip around your waist, guiding your body as he continued to make love to it.

– Still, I cannot help it – you felt his tongue on your cheek, where a single tear rolled through, wet and warm against your skin – Your flesh is softer… Your scent is more delicate… Your taste is sweeter… – he grabbed your thigh, pulling you tighter against himself; your muscles ached, making you moan – If I was a human like you, I would say you would be the death of me…

Those words aroused and surprised you at the same time.

In the beginning, by everything you’ve heard about Poseidon’s disposition towards your people, the fact that you were chosen to become his wife was just senseless; however, what he was doing, what he was saying now revealed a side of this story that you’d never suppose to exist. Was he as drawn to the human fragility as he claimed? Or was it the very reason why he rarely brought humans to his domains? This second hypothesis was easier to believe now that you were finally with him.

And if that was the case, your privilege – your luck – of still being alive was greater than you could imagine.

You felt his palm on the back of your head, his fingers slipping through your hair as he started murmuring in your ear, his lips brushing on it and making you shiver.

– Would you like it, little dragonet? If I said I would die because of you? – he kissed your lobe – Playing with your words, saying these absurd things about dying for each other… I have heard mortals enjoy it… But what about you? – and, since you didn’t reply, – Why are you so quiet?… Won’t you give me an answer? Hm?

You mumbled a negative reply, and he chuckled, his hot breath warming your skin.

– You do not like it? – his grip on your hair increased, keeping you in place – Liar.

– I’m not…! – you had the nerve to talk back – I’m not lying, my Lord…!

Instead of getting angry, Poseidon laughed at this: apparently, your frail attempts of denying him were really entertaining.

– Oh, no? – you felt his hands caressing your lower back, pulling you to him, his lips brushing over yours as he spoke – Then why your body says otherwise?

You bit your lip, refusing to reply because, in fact, you weren’t in conditions for this: the mere thought of having a powerful god at your feet, trading his life for you like a mortal man, was an audacity by itself, even more exciting when he put it in words. But you didn’t enjoy the sensation of having your fantasies exposed and scrutinized by him, so you avoided arguing, limiting your voice to gasps and tiny moans.

How did I end up this way? There’s a part of myself I don’t want him to reach... Still, my body desires him, to the point of making me think I would devote myself forever to him if I could… that’s so unfair...

Your heartbeats grew faster as hot tears fell through your face, and you threw your arms around him, hiding your face on his shoulder when your apex finally came.

However, it lasted longer than you expected: even though he noticed you were on your limit, Poseidon carried on for a while, only stopping when he has taken everything he could from you. By the end of it, your body was covered in sweat and your limbs were trembling, so that the only thing you were able to do was to stand still, panting.

He laid you down on the mattress, but didn’t take the spot by your side: he kept sitting on the same place, as you felt his eyes observing your exhausted form. Your ankle was tickled when he caressed it with his fingertips.

– I suppose you are not able to take more than this for now. So, stay there and rest – he spoke more to himself than to you; in his voice, you sensed a mixture of diversion and disdain for your state – But even when you are a tiny, delicate human, you resisted well, dragonet. You are a really entertaining creature. Bringing you here was a wise decision.

You were hearing all of this, of course, but being too tired to open your mouth or even to think of a response, you just stood quiet. If Poseidon thought you were already sleeping, you couldn’t tell, but he fell silent with the complete absence of your voice. Moments after, you noticed a pressure on the mattress, as if he was moving away from you, and the sound of the curtains being opened confirmed that he was going to leave you there alone.

***

You woke up in a startle and realized you were laying on the same position you were left on the bed. The curtains were closed, and everything was quiet inside them. You had no ways to be sure of how long you’ve slept, but you supposed it has been just a few minutes, because you didn’t notice any numbness or ache on the side of your body upon which you laid. You moved to the other side…

And startled when you found Poseidon lying there too. Your first impulse was to move away from him, but the possibility of him waking up and pulling you back to himself refrained you, so you first tried to make sure he was asleep: you didn’t even know if gods needed to sleep, but he was so quiet, his breath so slow and deep, that you were almost convinced that they did. You raised your hand and touched his chest, sensing it moving up and down to his breath, but no reaction came from him.

You moved your hand away, relieved, and tried to distance your body from his… but his voice, low and composed, stopped you midway.

– I am awake, if this is what you want to find out – you sensed the mattress being pressed as he moved on his side – And I would appreciate if you stopped trying to escape. You will return to the lodge, but only when I decide.

Before you could do anything, you sensed him stretching his arm and grabbing you by your waist, pulling you back and laying you upon himself. You shivered when you noticed he was still undressed, but stood quiet, your head resting on his chest, his arm wrapped tight around you. For a moment, you were afraid he would suffocate you again, but you were left at will.

You thought he would engage in a conversation after making you stay with him, but he just stood as silent as before: apparently, he had no interest in building any form of relationship with you through talking, but wanted to keep you as a living belonging, one that he could touch, smell and sense around him whenever he could, just as he was doing now: while he had one arm folded behind his head, the other one was around you, his hand tracing circles on your back, his fingers sometimes playing with your hair.

Your chest ached with that. If you were married to someone you knew well, and whom you had enough time to love, you would be in a peaceful, ecstatic state at that very moment. But, after being dragged to a room under the ocean to lie with someone you only knew by name and who wasn’t even human, there was no way for you to feel in peace now.

A lump appeared in your throat, and you tightened your lips and eyes to avoid crying, but when you noticed, your cheeks were wet and clingy, and you started trembling. You tried to contain your restlessness, but all your efforts were in vain, and none of this went unnoticed by Poseidon, who inquired you with a sort of annoyance.

– What is it?

You gathered all your strength to not sob and replied that you were just sore.

– Why didn’t you tell me earlier?

And, without waiting for a response, he took you out of the canopy, carrying you in his arms to another section of the room.

***

You went through a door that was invisible from the room’s entry, but easily detected when you left the bed. This door was similar to the one of the entry, but narrower, and it led to a corridor with cold, white lights and blue walls. By the end of it, there was what you supposed to be a bathing area, but you couldn’t see any shower or bathtub anywhere: it was just the floor and the walls decorated with small tiles that formed mosaics representing episodes of marine wildlife, from small creatures being swallowed by colossal predators to elegant beings playing, wandering and making love to each other. You were wondering why would someone want this last activity to be represented inside their house when Poseidon put you down and stepped away from you.

You passed your arms upon your chest and thought of asking what was going on when you saw him snapping his fingers, and the last thing you knew was your sight being covered by jets of warm water coming from all possible directions, making you protect your eyes as they cleaned your body entirely.

Heavens, if he wants to drown me, he could just say it out loud.

You closed your lips tight to avoid swallowing water, and after what seemed an eternity, the showering finally ended. With a sigh, you rubbed your face and blinked until your view got clear again. You were twisting your hair to take out the excess of water when Poseidon approached you and held you in his arms again; you tried not to look at his face, in order to avoid finding a new sign of disappointment in it.

You crossed a second door on the opposite side of the one through which you entered that area, and this time you entered a wider, lighter room that reminded you of a bathing house, with a rectangular water tank in the middle of it, so large that it looked more like a pool than a bathtub; the walls and the edges of the tank were of a rosy white, with delicate patterns of sea weeds and small fishes, and the water’s surface, trembling with ripples that reflected their shade, as well as the light descending from above, from what you supposed to be hidden lamps. All around you, the murmur of the streams falling from four spouts, one at each corner of the tank, worked to calm your moods as much as the lights.

One of the sides of the tank had three or four stairs carved on it that led to the water’s interior. Poseidon stopped in front of them and put you down, leaving you on the first stair as he went to a corner where you saw shelves of bottles in many sizes and shapes, something similar to what you found at the bathing area where Kenya and Yua took care of you earlier. He stretched his hand and grabbed one bottle on the top of a shelf, then a second on the one below it, then brought both with him.

The first bottle’s content reminded you of a pink, vibrant dust, and the second one was of pure white, like the expensive sugar you used to see at the tables of your father’s rich clients. Poseidon opened the bottles (their covers were attached to them) and poured a bit of each one on the water. He went back to put them in their previous places as you observed the color of the water change to a darker shade of pink, and a soothing fragrance came up from it as the dusts blended with it.

Once again, he came back and took you with him as he walked into the water.

The tub wasn’t really deep: on the opposite edge, in front of the stairs, the water reached Poseidon’s knees, which you supposed to be a bit above your own, and when he sat with you on his lap, the water covered your chest.

– What were those things that you poured on the water, Poseidon-sama? – you asked while observing your surroundings.

– Healing salts – he moved the strands of your hair away from your back, leaving your skin exposed – They will work on your pain and tiredness.

You didn’t reply, and he started taking small amounts of the water in his palms and pouring them on your skin, then massaging the wet areas: first, he caressed your back and shoulders, then spent a brief moment on your neck; he then made you uncross your arms and took care of them, and while you looked at his hands working, you startled when you saw the amount of reddish marks all over your body; still, you didn’t interrupt him. Your chest and your breasts were not forgotten, as he stroked them with his palms and gave special attention to your nipples, were the ache was deeper.

Since your thighs and legs were under the water, the effect of the salts reached them faster, still your husband took more time to take care of them: adjusting your position on his lap, he separated your legs and spent the next minutes caressing them, even more in the space between your thighs, where your muscles were more sensitive.

When Poseidon called those products “healing salts”, you supposed it was just a poetic name for common bath salts, which use was limited to cosmetic and relaxing properties, but as you sensed the pain ceasing with the massage and the warm water moving around you, as well as the subtle perfume of the salts entering your nostrils, you understood his words as a literal explanation. When you noticed, you were already feeling your eyes heavy, and, without warning, your head fell forward, and you only had time to sense him bringing it to his chest before the consciousness left you for the second time.

When you woke up, you were on the same place, and the water was still warm. You blinked and moved, trying to straighten up on your husband’s lap.

As soon as you did it, you heard his voice.

– I thought I would have to wake you up, dragonet – he brushed your hair, starting to dry, away from your shoulder – Usually, these salts just work on the pain and the superficial wounds on one’s body, and even to calm one’s mood, but they are strong enough to put a human to sleep.

You didn’t reply. He continued to speak, not letting it clear if he was talking to you or to himself.

– Each moment that passes, you find a new way to surprise me with your frailty – he chuckled – It is been a while since I allowed you to enter my domains, but you are still as tricky as in the old times. However, I am starting to enjoy the stressful mission that is taking care of you.

No word came out from your mouth in response, but you replied in thoughts.

If it’s so stressful, why did you bring me here in the first place?

If Poseidon was able to guess what you were thinking, you didn’t know, but he might have had a clue, judging by what he said to you next.

– You are always so silent. Is this shyness, or are you just not willing to share your thoughts with your husband?

That time, something grew inside you and gave you the courage to speak. You looked into his eyes – something that was even harder to do now that you were seeing his eyes under a clear light.

– If I told you everything that’s inside my mind, my Lord... Would you still keep me alive?

You noticed his right, golden eyebrow raising as he kept his glare over you for a moment, forcing you to look away. You felt his hand approaching your neck, his fingers crawling through your skin, making impossible for you to tell if he was just caressing you or if he was going to suffocate you.

– Why don’t you go ahead and speak your mind to find out?

You swallowed. If those were the conditions, you were better keep your mouth shut.

Poseidon laughed.

– Clever girl – his hand left your neck and held your chin, making you approach him; he gave you a long, warm kiss on your temple – Knowing when to talk and when to keep quiet is a beautiful virtue, and you seem to have mastered it. How did you do it?

Was it an invitation for you to tell him about your origins or past life? If that was the case, you would have to do it carefully: if his servants were able to find your house and deliver his message to your father, he must have been informed about details of your routine or homeland and was now testing your capacity of revealing and hiding things.

Not having much choices, you opted for an honest answer.

– I come from a family of merchants, Poseidon-sama. There is a saying among us: our voice, when well used, can be more precious than the gold we trade. In my house, we take this very seriously.

You observed the corners of his lips curl into a satisfied smile.

– It is good to hear that, dragonet. It means that there is at least one lesson I do not need to teach you.

Chapter 5

[athena-theunicorn]

Okay, I don't usually make super long posts but I had to explain these out in detail and have people tell me I'm not crazy.

TL;DR: Why Tears of the Kingdom could be the end of the timeline (not necessarily a circle end, either), and why our theories saying Zelda was Hylia during the trailer era were right.

First order of buisness, I don't watch many theory videos. I haven't seen anyone talk about this here or on reddit, so I assume it's not a very well known thought, but I could be wrong. I could also just be spouting bullshit. The only three games I've completed have been SS, BotW, and TotK.

How is totk the end of the timeline?

Excellent question. Thus begins my tedtalk.

So, we know that Ganondorf was a Gerudo King, yes. He was esentially sealed away by Rauru because at the time they didn't have a working master sword to kill him with. Ganondorf lay in stasis in the depths of the first castle for probably many millennia. Zelda is able to tell them all of this because she's seen it all happen before, right in front of her eyes. So she is able to prepare them for war accordingly.

But since Ganondorf in this time was only sealed, it means he never died. And we don't know all exactly what Rauru's power is capable of. We don't know if, for example, bits of Ganondorf's power was able to escape and create figureheads to aid in the destruction of men named Link and Princesses named Zelda.

You heard that right. I think that Ganondorf was the first Evil Incarnate to grace the Kingdom of Hyrule. He was somehow able to reach bits of his magic and create weaker versions of himself to hopefully end or at the very least terrorize the future generations of the Kingdom he wanted so desperately. He created Demise to warn the generations of the terror he would cause. It was never a curse, but more like a promise.

It explains the (somewhat silly) health bar during the final battle. It explains why when he was disturbed for the first time in eons his was brittle, dehydrated, and weak to the Sword. Using his magic to make lesser versions of himself drained him, leaving him with a mummy. But when he finally awakened he was able to revive himself while Link was running around Hyrule looking for his Zelda.

But now that Ganondorf is vanquished once and for all with the Master Sword, I believe he is no longer able to send bits of himself out to terrorize people, thus ending the timeline for good.

Whooh. Okay.

Why is TotK Zelda actually Hylia?

This point is only slightly connected, so bare with me.

So, in Skyward Sword we know that it is explained that Hylia sent Hyrule to the sky to ward off a great evil and such. And in the Dragon Tear scenes on totk there are no sky islands, thus letting us believe this is before the islands were sent to the sky, if this is truly the first generation in a land called Hyrule.

In the final dragon tear scene ( I know, I'm sorry to bring it up, it still makes me cry too), Zelda - or the Light Dragon - is seen flying through the cloud barrier.

We aren't shown this part, but I think that hen Zelda flew above the cloud barrier, parts of the land broke off and went with her, ascending to the skys like how Skyward Sword described. Execpt Skyward Sword said that Hylia was the one to make Skyloft. But whos to say they're not one in the same?

Do you need more evidence? Well sure.

The other three known dragons (Farosh, Naydra, and Dinnral) are named after the three golden goddesses, the ones that left Hyrule in Hylia's care. Now, we don't know how these dragons came to be, if they were always there, if they're the goddesses spirits, or if they actually ate secret stones themselves. But you know who doesn't have a dragon? Hylia. And the Light Dragon has no name other than that. Because Hylia was the one to eat the secret stone, and Zelda didn't know she was Hylia herself.

Additionally, this explains why Zelda had such a hard time in Breath of the Wild reaching her powers. Because she was praying to nobody, and when she finally looked into herself for the answers she was able to finally reach that power. Hylia had nothing to do with it, and praying to her was all a lost cause anyway.

Dear god my brain hurts. But this was fun low key.

[cheatingwifelover]

Young Lust Repeated

This was her second time with O, Orin. Orin was 18 at the time.

During the summer in South Texas our grass needs to be mowed every 10 days or so, but when it finally cools down to the South Texas version of Fall and Winter it only needs to be cut once a month at most. As a result our yard guy doesn't need to employ extra help and we hadn't seen Orin since he and his friend had fucked my wife.

A couple days ago the wife and I were day drinking. Alcohol usually makes my wife horny. She was dressed hot and I was hoping she was going to pose for photos. We'd just started making out a bit when we noticed a car had pulled into our driveway. We didn't recognize the car and neither my wife or I had any idea who it could be. I told her I'd deal with it and went outside to find Orin walking towards the front door.

“Where's your scooter,” I asked.

“At home,” he said.

He told me the car belonged to his parents and they had sent him to get the oil changed. On the way back he thought he'd stop and see if we needed any yard work done. I could see a very visible look of disappointment on his face and I realized he was hoping to see my wife. I told him I didn't have anything for him but my wife said something about needing work on the backyard garden. I told him to head out back and I'd send her out to tell him what she wanted.

My wife said, “I can't go out and talk to him like this,” referring to her short-skirt, hose, and boots.

“Why not,” I said, “he will love it.”

“He's in the backyard so no one is going to see you.”

She was a little reluctant, but I knew she'd been thinking about him and she'd been drinking.

“Go on,” I said, “he's obviously been dying to see you again. You should have seen how his mood brightened when I told him I'd send you out to tell him what you needed done in the garden.”

She quickly downed the remnants of the martini she'd been drinking and off she went.

Seeing how she was dressed he said, “I'm sorry, were you guys going to a Christmas party or something? I didn't mean to interrupt but I really missed you. I've been thinking about you a lot.”

She told him she missed him too but she thought maybe that after that night and given her age he didn't have any further interest.

I watched them on the security cams but I couldn't hear what was being said. They talked for about five minutes then my wife took his hand and pulled him into the garage.

“There are no cameras in here,” she told him.

“But what about Mr. D,” he asked nervously?

She told him I was watching a movie so I'd be occupied for awhile.

“Does he know what happened that night?”

“Oh God no,” she replied. “Have you told anyone?”

He told her he had not but he couldn't be sure about his friend. He told him not to tell anyone either but he liked to brag. So far though, he'd hadn't heard anything.

“He's hoping to do it again and I told him it wouldn't happen if people found out so I think he's been quiet.”

My wife thanked him, leaned in and kissed him, and they started making out. She guided his hand under her skirt to her pussy and saw the look of surprise when he found it bare despite the hose.

“Crotchless,” she said, “like them?”

“A lot,” he stammered.

“Finger me baby,” she said, and resumed their make-out session.

I was dying to find out what was going on but the only way to see anything would be to open the door leading into garage. I'd have no way to hide and watch anyway and the sound of the door opening would likely bring whatever was happening to a halt, so all I could do was wait.

We have a small table and some chairs in the garage and my wife led him over to the table.

“I want to suck your cock” she told him, “but the concrete is hard on my knees.”

He understood her intentions, pulled his jeans down, and sat on the edge of the table.

“You weren't a virgin the other night were you?” she asked pulling up a chair in front of him.

“No,” he replied. “I have a girlfriend and I've also had sex with other girls at school.”

Turns out he is a football player with all that implies.

“Why me then” my wife asked, “I'm old enough to be your grandmother.”

“You're different,” he said, “sexier. I love that you're older.”

My wife took his cock into her mouth and began to suck it. She heard him moan with pleasure and felt his hands stroking her hair. She's an excellent and enthusiastic cock sucker and she could tell Orin wasn't going to last very long. She pulled off his cock and starting sucking his balls.

“Fuck,” she heard him exclaim and then he was cumming on her face and into her hair, “I was trying to hold off.”

”It's ok, we have time, how about you return the favor,” she said, standing up between his legs and kissing him.

She hiked up her skirt and took his place at the table while he took her place in the chair and following her directions began to eat her pussy.

When his cock soon returned to life she said “I want to feel you inside me now, fuck me.”

He stood up between her legs and she guided his cock into her married pussy. She reached out, arms around his neck, and pulled him closer for a kiss.

“That's it,” she murmured, “kiss me, fuck me.”

They continued passionately making out as his cock slid in and out of her. My wife came explosively and Orin, fucked her with renewed vigor until she came again. She felt his strokes lingering deeper and with more urgency and then he erupted inside her. They stood frozen for a long moment and then parted awkwardly.

Something tells me this isn't going to be the last time they're together.