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whambambatfam · 2 days ago

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Webs of a Wing

Chapter 1

I am not well versed in DC knowledge. I've read a bunch of the older comics but, honestly, these timelines are too confusing to say I have a firm grasp on what the fuck is happening at any given point.

Anyways, this is my story, I made a tumbler for it. I'll definitely upload again..

When the fly on the wall starts to spin webs of their own, can the bats catch on? Or will they be left to dangle in the web they've tangled?

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

You're hardly school aged when you wake in a strange place, vague memories of someone patting your head as you fall asleep. Then it was all blurry and you went from cold hard ground, suddenly, to a warm bed worth more than you've ever seen.

Laying still, staring up at the ceiling, you lay dazed until you hear the door starting to creak open. Quickly shutting your eyes you wait for the suspect to peak inside.

When his voice sounds, back on the other side of the door, you perk up, "Who's this? They're kinda cute." A boy, most likely a few years older than you.

When that deep, fear inducing voice reaches for you, you jump out of bed after it. "Apparently, my child." He couldn't possibly be talking about you, right?

You make your way silently to the creaked door. Peeping through to watch them. "Huh? What?? Like seriously???" Hands resting on his hips, a boy of black hair and lean physique gapes.

A tall man with a build as intimidating as his voice, "Yes, I've run a DNA test and everything." His large arms cross over his broad chest.

Mirroring the older man's stance, the boy questions, "So, who's the mom?"

"I'm still working on that.."

"Have you.. asked them?"

There's a heaviness lingering in the hall around them. "We don't know if they'll talk yet, not till they wake up." He doesn't like not having answers, clearly.

"Can they?"

Swinging the door open, you bark out at your own defense, "I knew how'd to talk!"

His shoulder shot up, face blossoming in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry." Sighing, he tries to appear nonchalant. "Well, heyyy.. kid.. My name's Dick.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he smiles, “Guess I'll be like, your, uh, big brother?"

Eyes widening, you step away from his grasp. Being in a strange place with strange people claiming to be your family was concerning. Even in your young mind, alarm bells rang loud and clear.

Like a light shining through your darkest times, his voice cut through the tension. “This may be all too much for,” A man, much older than either, rests his hand on your back, “the newly young master Wayne.” He ushers you gently back into the room. All gentle pats and kind smiles as he insists on you resting.

You never spoke about who or where you came from. It hurts to try, to think of the cold, the dark, the pain, the fear. Push out all the bad. Make it just go away. You just wanted it to go away. Wanted to take every memory of before and lock it up, never to be found. So, that's what you did, burying every painful memory. After some time, your young mind turned repression into suppression. Now, left with only bits and pieces, you couldn't remember even if you wanted to.

So, you’ll need to fill in the emptiness with this fresh start.

Life in the Wayne house started off joyfully. You found serenity in the solitude of the manor, disconnected from the rest of Gotham. When Alfred wasn't pushing tedious homeschooling work, you explored the massive house you'd be calling home. The quietude of empty ballrooms, winding halls and stodgy gardens was your respite. While it wasn't a place made for children, you felt at peace for the first time. The perfect home for a ghost with plenty of walls for flies and flowers alike.

Coming from unknown origins with no paperwork to speak of left you in a peculiar predicament. As a child was low grasp on the passage of time, you couldn't exactly say how old you were. Let alone when your birth date was. No one has ever bothered to tell you and if they have you certainly weren't going to remember. Infact, at Alfreds insists on a celebration, he comes to find you've never truly experienced a birthday of any kind. He had to correct this at once, give you a proper one with cake, singing and presents. It makes him wonder what sort of childhood you've been plucked from.

“Well, young master.” Alfred takes your hands as you climb the step stool next to him, “It's been a year now since you've joined us at the manor.”

Your hands slap onto the counter when you finally reach it. “Yeah, I like it.” Smiling wide up at the old butler, you babble on, “everything is so big and warm and it smells nice and I like when you cook and I wanna cook too and-” Alfred hushes your ramblings with a hand on your head.

“Yes, that's lovely, my child.” The other hand opens a draw nearby. “And that's what we'll be doing today.”

You tilt your head as the hand on it brushes over it and falls away, “Cooking?” Craning your neck, you try to peek at the cards he flips through.

“Well, baking, but yes.” He confirms, offering you a smile that's warm and sweet like his cookies, “Today was the day you joined the family, it's as good a day as any for a party.”

Your eyes light up, “A party for what?”

“Your birthday, my dear.” He chuckles softly at your look of awe,“Today will be your birthday, and every year I shall make you a cake.”

“Woah, every year?” You gasp as he hafs you the small stack of cards, each a handwritten cake recipe. While you can't read them yet, there are pictures of each cake pasted alongside the words. “That's a lot of cakes.. Can I help?”

“Whichever you like most we'll bake.” You're quick to pick one, waving the card around frantically, “I would be honored to have your help as well, young master.”

Alfred got to work with measurements, letting you pour everything into the bowls. He shows you how to mix, guiding you hand over hand when you struggle. You can't help spilling half of you what you're given, covering the counters. Sliding the pan batter into the oven, Alfred has you assist by wiping away your mess.

As he begins readying ingredients for frosting you ask, “Are those guys gonna join us?”

You're too busy scrubbing batter from your stool to see the way he deflates. “Unfortunately, your father and brother are tied up in something.” He sighs, taking the rag and finishing your job. With a sullen smile he hands you a measuring cup of sugar, “Perhaps next year.”

The night is spent merrily celebrating. When it cools Alfred frosts and decorates your cake. He places a number of candles, It's the first of many birthdays spent with just you and Alfred.

The next years were your first time in true schooling, a prestigious boarding school to boot. You couldn't remember seeing so many other children before. The eyes you received from strangers when given your new last name made your skin crawl. Deciding to forgo it in most encounters. Yet, for some reason to a great number of your fellow classmates, that fact seemed to matter greatly. If you met someone who insisted or withheld their friendship without, then you'd simply roll your eyes, never speaking to them.

You decided friends weren't important, instead making it your goal to not just succeed but to exceed. If this was your shot of a real family, you wanted to show them you were something capable. Worthy. You were hopeful, determined in getting close.

Only to be pushed aside at every opportunity.

“I got’ perfect score!” The words burst from you with such excitement you're bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Bruce doesn't even bother to look at the paper you're frantically waving at him. Simply mumbling as he places his mug in the sink, “Very nice.” Before turning to Dick, “Come on, son. It's time to go.” You thought maybe this was how a father was supposed to be. Cold, distant and hardly ever around for someone so small.

Alfred steps up from behind your slumped form. Plucking the paper from your dejected gaze. He hums softly before you hear a rap on the fridge beside you. “Wonderful job young master.” You smile for him as he pats your head. Happy to have at least someone’s acknowledgement.

From what your classmates say, a big brother will either pick on you or support you. Soon you came to find that living with Dick Grayson didn't guarantee you any of his time. Good or bad.

So, despite the terror that being center stage fills you with, you entered your school's spelling bee. The thought that maybe you could possibly impress them gave you just enough nerve.

“Hey, um, Dickie...” When you catch his sleeve, your teeth skin into your cheeks. He peeks over his shoulder at you, “Here, it's a competition.”

His nose wrinkles slightly before he smiles. “Spelling bee?” Not a real smile, you don't get those. It's a empty, meaningless thing that hardly lifts his lips.

“If you're not busy.” You clasp your fingers together, steeling your nerves.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” It’s thinly masked disgust if anything.

Time came to discuss bringing you into the public eye, an official declaration of your relationship with the Wayne's. Just the thought of it was unsettling, like placing a target on your back. The last place you want to be is the spot light.

“I don't wanna go. I won't go.” It was then in that moment, when the words left your lips, you could see it in his eyes.

A wave of relief Dick couldn't quite stifle, lip touching at the corner before turning to Bruce, “Maybe they're just scared of all those new people. With everyone looking at them, seeing them as your..” That uptick in his features falters slightly, “first child, technically.” Back then, you thought he cared. That this was actually for your protection. “It's a lot of pressure, maybe it would be better. For them, to stay safe.”

Bruce crosses his arms, examining his older child before looking back to the younger. “You have a point there, Dick.” You've twisted your fingers into Alfreds pant leg, half hidden behind him. “Fine. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. It might even be for the better.” Neither of them wanted you there, thinly veiled behind words of care, never quit saying it.

Not once then did you realize. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could show for. Nothing to make them see you, the real you. You couldn't provide them with anything, that made you useless.

“Very well, Master Bruce.” With a sigh, Alfred guides you away as the two leave. He was always the one in your corner. Before you even know this life would be a battle.

This give on the topic began your gradual slope into obscurity. In the hectic years of adolescence, you'd come to the conclusion that private schools are for snobs. You manage to convince the old butler, with baked goods, to allow a change of schools. Not wanting to slow your studies yet overwhelmed by your known family reputation. Public school seemed viable, no one had to know who you really were. There seemed to be no object, or real acknowledgment of this decision.

You used to believe, despite how they act, this was it, this would be your family and you could be happy. Surely, you thought, it's because you're new to them. It must be hard to connect, you found it quite difficult yourself.

So, you decided, you'll just need to put in more effort. Show them that there is something that you and they can do together. You took up everything you Alfred offered to teach you when he was around. You learned to cook, sew and clean the whole manor faster than the master butler himself.

Of course, he had other priorities, not just as your caretaker. Try as he might to keep you at the top of that list, he still has duties to attend. So, you would take your days, even weeks, alone with stride. A good time to build your skills on your own, finding new ways to utilize them. Hoping for something, anything, to bridge the gap with your new family.

“I'll be home late today, Al.” While you had gotten away from uptight private schooling, Alfred still set into a well funded school.

He gives a light chuckle of disbelief over the phone, “You have plans, young master?” Pinching the device between your shoulder and ear, you fumble through your first ever locker.

“It's just a club, I'll still need you to pick me up after.” With all your free time, you thought you'd use more of your growing skills.

“At your service my dear.”

You took time to catch on, years of peeling away from the background. Picking and pulling apart from the inside out, finding something that could peak their interest. Hoping to think twice, even once to turn their heads back to the lone manner.

That's how you found them, their secrets; and the life that pulled them as taunt in one direction as the other did. Digging for a way that you could connect from beyond the twice eye catching lives they live day and night. You were piled with reasoning when you found that special place in the library they all seemed to love. The idea of passing the security felt out of reach at the time.

Walking along the dark water line, looking out to the misty sky. You don't wish for misfortune, but you wait. When that light flickers on and that familiar symbol reflects on the dark Gotham clouds, your breath catches. Ducking alonge the rocky cliff wall by the large alcove, you listen to the rumble. You brace yourself as something in the shallow cave opens, the rumble growing.

Then you have your answer. The Batmobile comes billowing out of the cave, in its wake you hide. Long after its departure from the property, you emerge from your hiding spot. Slipping through the closing doors and wandering down into the bat cave.

Despite how they see through you most times, you're sure Alfred knows when you sneak in. So, appreciating this to be Alfred throwing his hand up and hiding his eyes for your sake.

It's awe inspiring to say the least, especially knowing you live above it every day. It felt like peeking through the lives of strangers and you couldn't look away. You don't know why he kept it from you but you didn't want to be shut out for knowing. Yet, you couldn't satiate your curiosity with just this visit.

You had told Alfred you had a meeting after a club and that you would be home late. For some strange reason he promised Dick would pick you up.

Water splashes up from a speeding tire as you walk along the misty Gotham streets, “Aw man, come on!” Of course Dick didn't show! Why would he? When has he ever?

Now, in this situation, Alfred would wish for you to call him for assistance.

“Over there! Look, look!” Across the intersection a pair gasps and squeals, fingers pointed up at the Boy Wonder. The last thing on his mind as he leapt through the night sky, was an unwanted sister.

If only Alfead could get everything he's ever wished for, but you're not a fairy.

Following gunshot and bangs you skirt around chaos, nearly avoiding an obvious outbreak of costumed thugs. You watch in ired fascination as they beat down each threat thoroughly. As the moon starts to sit lower again and the bad guys are carted away, you realize how long you've been gone.

You arrive at the gates in tune to be blown past by the Batmobile. Inside, Alfred gives you a look as if he knows every secret you've even kept. Thankfully he doesn't say a word, You're out of your damp clothes by the time the dynamic duo ascend to the manor.

For people of the shadows, they never could seem to see you creeping through them.

It's through this that you managed to learn about Barbra Gordon. The commissioner's daughter was someone you could only catch glimpses of from time to time. It was rare for you to catch her attention. Much too preoccupied with her work for the Bat, your father.

The batgirl's skill inspired your own delve into tech. Hacking, coding and even trying your hand at tinkering with new devices. Creations that you've jerry-rigged and hoped against hope that she would even glance at.

She's coming over today, you overheard dick say so. You've poked your head over the banister as you wait to spot the red head. Yet, once she's there, you freeze. Dick and Barbara push through the front doors together. Light rain chasing them inside from the sturing storm. Their foot falls followed by light laughter and easy chitchat. If only it was so easy for you.

You watch as your brother scurries off, promising to grab a towel. This is your shot. “Oh, um!” Words are coming from you before you even know what to say. Stumbling over yourself, you bumble over, haltung in front of her. “B-Barbra?”

“Huh, who?” At the ruckus you've made, she whips around. Head on a swivel 'till green eyes locking on you. “Oh! It's you.. uh..” looking you up and down she stumbles as well.

You have to give her your name, again.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Barbra looks off sheepishly, carting a hand through her hair. Hand flicking droplets from the ginger ringlets.

“It's okay..” that's alright, that's normal Even. You don't see each other all that often.. even though you remembered her name just fine. “I just want to ask you about some-” Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, she cuts you off before you can pull out what you want to share with her.

“I've actually got to-” Her mouth snaps shut before she thinks better of words, “Well, um, talk with Bruce.” She finishes with an awkward chuckle and mumbled “Y'know how it is. Always something with the Wayne's.”

No, “Yeah..” You didn't know.

You've never shared more than a last name with the Wayne's.

Patting your head she smiles, “Sorry again, hun. Maybe later?” turning away down the hall Dick had disappeared to. Even to the all seeing eye you were nothing but a mere fly on the wall.

Gothams streets were dark, dangerous, and the only place you could see them for more than a minute. You loved nights like this, when you could slip from the manor. Undetected by the inattentive gazes that should have kept a preteen like you home.

With this habit of bird watching, you found yourself looking more into your subpar self defense. Living in Gotham has given you a natural caution but all too often you've wound up in tight situations. All because you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Maybe if you show them you could do that, fight back, they might see you.

You put yourself out there over and over, “Uh, d-dad?” Alfred insisted you call him that, but it never felt right, “I've been doing, um, I have this..” taking a breath you force it out, “It's martial arts, could you come see me?”

Another paper half glance at before the typical, “I'll see what I can do.”

Apparently, there are some things even Batman can't do.

“H-hey.. I, uh, am doing..” You pull out the flier for your competition. inspecting it over before looking to see him. Half-heartedly glancing up from his comic, Dick gives you a once over before continuing to read, “Gymnastics.”

Finally his eyes hold yours when the word shoots from your mouth. For a second you think this is it. This is when you’ll finally have his attention. Finally make that long awaited connection with your big brother. “I'll see, why don't you ask Bruce?” Dick lays the paper on the living room table in front of him.

“I did... he said the same thing.”

The paper is still there when you come back later.

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human-monokuma · 10 hours ago

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"Hear it form him you shall." *With a playful tap on the nose, Mikado started seeing and hearing things from Celestia's perspective. it was her memory of her conversation with Monokuma.*

Monokuma: "So what did you want to talk about?"

Celestia: "Your rewards for your selflessness and bravery in the face of despair and disaster. Such as this." *She covers Monokuma Ina bright light, changing his form into living human form.* "With this, you shall be able to traverse the living realm as anyone else that is alive."

"Traverse? Ma'am, in case you haven't noticed, I'm already dead and I'm sort of tied to Hell. Because sinner, you know?"

Celestia: "Fufufufu~. Atomata of Despair, I bestow upon you a special gift." *A small light hovers over to Monokuma's hand, attaching itself to the back of his hand.*

Celestia: "This is a Warp Crystal, which will allow you to teleport between realms and teleport to any location you desire. From Earth, to Heaven, to any ring in Hell without any kind of restriction. With this, you will be able to return home and live out the rest of your days with your family until it is their time as well."

"........Why would you do this for me?"

Celestia: "You've fought hard for your happiness and for the happiness and well-being of others. I say it's only fair to reward you properly with something that will please you and your loved ones. Is that not it?"

"it's not that. It's just...I don't know. Doesn't feel right. Like, I've done so many bad things to other people. No way I can just return to a normal life after everything."

Celestia: "You know Makoto will tell them everything."

"That's not going to change anything. The people up there won't ever forgive me. Not after after Future foundation and hope's peak. Worse case scenario, they'll accuse Makoto as a fraud and start treating him like an enemy too. or worse. Don't get me wrong. I do want to be with everyone again. With my friends. my family. Mikado and Lucky, my brothers. But...what if I land them in trouble again? I....I don't know."

Celestia: "Your loved ones are willing to carry you along with your sins. Surely you're not going to disregard their feelings, are you?"

"You're not helping, you know. Like, what am I supposed to do? I'm already dead and me going back to Earth isn't going to make life easier for anyone. As long as they know that I'm still alive, then they're just going to keep bothering me and my friends just to get to me." *...........DING*

"wait a minute. 'As long as they know'? Or rather....It's 'if they know'. If they know that I'm back on Earth alive......But if they think I'm permanently dead....Yeah. Yeah, that can work. Maybe I can make this work. As long as the world thinks I'm dead, then they won't come after my family nor my friends. That way, even if I do return to earth, it should be fine if I'm hidden well enough. Yeah."

"Yeah! Hahahaha! Maybe I'll be able to return home after all! Hey, mind if I stay here a bit longer to work out the finer details?"

Celestia: "Of course. be my guess." *Monokuma its there and starts thinking things over. After a while, he nods to himself.*

"Ok. I think I got a decent idea of what to do now. First, I need to make sure that Makoto informs the world of my death and my involvement with the demon tree. I'm sure Monodam, a witness, will be able to make the story more convincing. or maybe I should ask one of the reapers. or that weird Sparkle chick. And now for Mikado....Hmm...."

Celestia: "While you're thinking about this I should inform you that you are not allow to tell anyone I granted you these rewards. They could try to take advantage of you in some ways."

"Well I am in Hell and this place is fully of scumbags, for the most part. Sooooooooo.....Yeah. Can't really tell anyone out in the open. Though, I don't want to leave Mikado in the dark. But I also can't tell him about my plan out of fear of being leaked. if that happens, I don't think I can return to Earth period and then there's what could happen to my family and friends....Yeah. I'm going to have to talk to Mikado about me staying in Hell for the long term. I just hope I can get through to him and make him understand. I would ask him to stay, but I don't want him to waste his life like that. Maybe I can ask Makoto to hire Mikado to give him proper protection from those Kisaragi jerks. Knowing him, he probably could allow Mikado a way in. The last thing I want to happen is for anyone I care about fighting or killing on my behalf. I want them to live their lives happy and free of worry and stress if possible. No more need to spilling the blood of innocence and junk like that....Sigh. This is going to be tough." *The memory comes to an end as Celestia takes her finger off Mikado's forehead.*

"I hope that cleared things up for you, Mikado. I understand your worries and concerns for your friend, which are indeed valid and he understands it too. He just needs to make sure that things will be alright enough for him to return so that no more tragedy comes your way."

*Achlys knocks on Husk's tent, trying to get his attention.*

"Hey. Husk, was it? I need you help with something. Something that's really important." @nastrond-and-valhalla

Husk looked to see Achlys. "Oh, hey Achlys. Sup? How can i help?"

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manicmanuscription · 14 hours ago

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By The Candlelight

Azriel x Reader

Summary: When you and Azriel finally get a chance to sleep after traveling for so long he gets a glimpse of you through your shadow being reflected.

Word Count: 1041

Warnings: Mutual Pining, slight seduction, Azriel being a mess over reader. Forced proximity. Mostly written in Azriel's perspective.

Based on the request here. Thank you so much for your request enjoy!

─── ♡ ───

“Sorry.” Azriel had murmured as you finally, finally, reached the safe house. Although ‘house’ probably wasn’t the best term. It was more of a single room with walls. It could barely fit Azriel and his large frame but at least there was a small mattress and a sink so you weren’t complaining, happy to just finally be out of the cold and have the chance to rid your rain soaked leathers. “It’s usually just me staying here.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve stayed in worse.” You chirped, throwing your go-back on the mattress rifling through it as you looked for a change of clothes pulling out various daggers, healing potions and salves, and of course a few necessities for your hair.

“Sorry I was added to the mission so late. I don't mean to overstep or be a burden.” You mentioned a pang of guilt pulling on your heart.

“You are not a burden.” Azriel said quickly from behind you. You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the determination in his words.

A few moments of silence passed, the rain beating against the wooden walls, the very faint hum of magic as the few wards strained to keep this place concealed and warm.

Azriel shuffled closer so you were now standing shoulder to shoulder, his hand slightly brushing against yours and his breath hitched at the contact. He picked up your hairbrush and what looked like to be a bottle of face wash. “Really?” The Shadowsinger teased. “Rhys told us to pack light.”

You flashed him a smile, snatching the items from his hands. “I may be a Spy, Azriel but I am still a female.” You said with a playful smile, simply brushing your wet hair over your shoulder. Your smile, the way you said his names- gods- it had his knees buckling slightly.

You picked up your bundle of fresh clothes after stuffing everything else that wasn’t needed back in your bag and faced Azriel a few beats of silence passing, your face inches apart. He was too focused by the faint blush on your cheeks to notice your timidness as you spoke shyly.

“I..need to change.” Your voice broke the moment of staring and Azriel cleared his throat. “Of course, my apologies.” He moved towards the door, a miracle it was still on its hinges, his hands brushing against the wooden knob when you spoke again. “You…don’t have to go outside, it's raining pretty bad.”

Azriel froze momentarily. His heart was pounding in his ears, he was sure it roared louder than the clap of thunder that rolled across the mountain. Lightning was next, flashes of it echoing through small cracks in the walls.

“Alright.” Azriel finally spoke, his voice hoarse and he slid his hands in his pockets trying to hide the slight tremor that ran through them. He still faced the door but took a step back inside if only to appease you.

He could hear your clothing being removed from behind him and a lump formed in his throat as lust and imagination clashed in his mind.

A few candles had automatically lit as the door opened when you two arrived and their light stayed a strong steady presence. He did his best to ignore your shadow perfectly casted on the wall, yet each movement you made had his eyes straying to the illusion there. The tiny space made your silhouette as accurate as possible and he did his best to breath through the desire that hit him like a brick.

He needed you more than he needed anything or anyone in his life and right now you were playing a dangerous game, albeit unknowingly.

He couldn’t even feel the wetness that seeped into his leathers, no longer feeling the cold that had settled so firmly. His shadows dispersed even further away from him, settling underneath floorboards and cracks in the walls, their absence somehow making the candles brighter and his breath hitched as your shadow enhanced at the new light. He hissed under his breath and his shadows laughed at his dilemma.

A few more minutes of intense silence passed and he tried to focus on the rain, on the cracks in the floorboard, yet his eyes could not stop straying to your shadow, to your curves and elegant movement.

Azriel was sure his breathing had stopped and his mind had emptied of all other thought’s that weren’t about you. He was clenching his teeth so hard they might break. Shame and guilt tingled in his gut yet he could not look away.

Everything about you enchanted him and knowing that you were changing just a few paces behind him, knowing that you trusted him enough to do that? His cock struggled in the confine of his pants and his mind whirred at the possibilities.

“Alright.” You spoke gently and he turned around slowly, drinking you in. You were wearing an old t-shirt that seemed just a little bit too big for you and some long sweatpants that hugged your thighs perfectly. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, staring at you with that intensity he always seemed to possess.

“Hope I didn’t take too long.” You whispered and he shook his head no, not trusting his voice.

He was entranced with your movements as you set your bag on the floor, sliding underneath the covers of the mattress and moved over, very deliberately leaving a space for him there and his heart was going a million miles a minute, his breathing stopped as you started talking once again, it took him a minute to process your words as the sound of your voice hummed in his chest pleasantly, drowning everything else out.

There was only you.

“Make sure to dry off before coming to bed.”

He nodded, turning around and running his hands through his hair, trying to calm his heart and steady his breathing. Did you not see how you were affecting him?

How having you so close yet so far was physically painful. He ached for you and silently cursed Rhys for this mission. Azriel rolled his shoulders and reached for his own bag. His hearing hyper focused on the sound of your breathing, on every shift you made in the bed.

Gods you were going to be the death of him.

#azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel pining #acotar #acotar fanfic #one shot #seduction #forced proximity #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar fic

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kingkat12 · 18 hours ago

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chasing sleep (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, morning sex, attempting-to-stay-quiet sex, Roman loves tits (oops), reader on top, dub-con elements, needle-gate is back lol, dark!Roman returns, fluff, angst, and reader is fucking brainwashed cause girl stand up for yourself wdym

summary: everything seems to be going perfect for you-- you've got the guy, after all. however, you're still haunted by the life you gave away to be with him, and specifically, the girl you left behind. will Roman ever fully trust that you won't leave him?

word count: 11,308 (merry christmas tihi)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11

a/n: celebrating 700 followers AND christmas with this monster of a chapter!! I love all of you, thank you once again for your amazing support, I LOVE YOU!! this fanfic is nearing the end now, so... hold on tight for what's about to come;) ENJOY, MWAH<3

"You didn't say goodbye, and now a part of me believes that means you're coming back,"

Over and over again, those words echoed in my ears. I had read it in a passage somewhere, probably in the new romance novel I had picked up a few days ago, and now it truly haunted me. Latched onto my guilt, my love, my very being-- I wasn't sure whether I was capable of letting it all go, despite how happy Roman made me.

Was that maybe why I ended up right here, right now?

"Do you think it could work again?" Letha echoed, turning to me. Her legs were dangling off my roof as we sat by the edge. A soft breeze moved her long, blonde hair away from her shoulders, and just like that, I was reminded of how truly beautiful she was. It must be a genetic thing for all the Godfreys to be breathtaking. However, the look in Letha's green eyes told me something was wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It was almost as though I was looking back at her with a grey-ish filter, like my vision was making it seem like we were sitting in a cloud of fog. None of this looked real.

"What could?" I asked, turning to check my surroundings-- yeah, this was definitely my roof. Why were we here?

"Us," Letha's gaze awaited me as I faced her again, and it was heartbreakingly sad. "You and I. Our friendship."

It felt like I had dipped the tips of my fingers in cold water. "Letha... Come on," I reached for her hand, placing mine above hers with a sigh; "This ended a long time ago. I don't think we can salvage this--"

"But what if we could?" Letha's voice was so painfully sweet, so insistent. "Do you think it could work again?"

"What could?"

"Us," she breathed, turning her hand to intertwine our fingers with an unusually hard grip. It didn't feel so sweet anymore. "You and I. Our friendship."

The red lights in my mind went off like police sirens-- something was off. With my next glance at her hair, it was no longer that same warm shade of blonde. Now, I could argue it was actively turning white before my eyes.

This wasn't real. "Letha?"

"Yes?"

"... Am I dreaming?"

Letha's eyes softened as the green in them dulled down, bordering a bleak color of grey. "Yes," she said. "I'm looping it until you're honest."

"What do you mean?--"

"You'll wake up when you tell me the truth. If you want to help your subconscious let go of the guilt, you should do it,"

My heart was actively breaking. Looking into Letha's blank eyes, I realized it reminded me of the look she had on her face when I first told her about Roman and me. "Ask, then,"

I could see her emotions clutching her soul like an unforgiving fist despite this only being a dream. My head didn't have any problems conjuring the image of her as a kicked, wounded puppy. She spoke; "Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

I felt it truly, brutally, that I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if it would break me to be honest. "I can't leave Roman for you," I breathed. "I won't. So I doubt you and I could be friends again as long as I'm still with him."

Letha nodded, turning away to look up at the full moon above us. The hand she had in mine was starting to turn cold. "Do you think it could work again?"

Oh, she was asking again-- was my answer maybe not the truth? Not the right answer? Did my sleeping subconscious know? "What could?" I echoed, growing tired of the loop we were caught in.

"Us," Letha closed her eyes as her chest raised and fell with her shallow breaths. "You and I. Our friendship."

I decided to give it less thought-- that was the key, sometimes. Roman had taught me that. Could it? Could it truly? "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

It didn't take long before I realized tears were threatening to spill from my eyes too. I had missed the smell of Letha's sweet perfume. It smelled like home and a comforting hug hello. "Yeah. I think it could work," It was weird to hear me say it out loud; "I was always in love with Roman, but you... You taught me how to love in the first place. If we could both forgive each other, I think we'd have a chance. Yet... I don't think I ever can. Fully."

Letha didn't open her eyes, barely moved an inch. She opted for a short, melancholic nod as her lower lip gave in to a tremble. "I'm afraid I'll miss you forever," she whispered, mostly to herself.

And suddenly, I couldn't feel the weight of her hand in mine. My gaze darted down to what was previously our union, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I looked up to find a slow line of evaporating smoke, similar to a trail coming from Roman's cinnamon cigarettes.

With my next heave of air accompanied by a lonely tear rolling down my cheek, I allowed my hand to reach out to touch the fog. It was thick, and it prickled the tips of my fingers to the likes of a cactus-- my sorrow clouded my instincts, and I didn't retract my hand. I hadn't allowed myself to feel any of this, after all. I had been so wrapped up in Roman, so wrapped up in the new feelings that washed over my body, that I had buried all the old ones.

However, Letha kept her promise-- I was released.

Released from the loop, but with one foot remaining in the quicksand of guilt.

And as I awoke, it felt like I had been thrown into a cold pond. With a quick breath, I arched off the bed, gasping; "Roman!"

Frantic beyond words, I heaved for air, blinking rapidly to wake myself up. The morning sun shone through Roman's curtains with soft rays, and I was hit with the smell of a burnt candle. Still hyperventilating, I put a hand on my chest as I tried to turn around, but to no avail.

Why couldn't I move? Was I maybe still stuck in the dream?

Oh, wait-- It was at this moment that I realized I had a heavy arm around me, keeping me still with my back pressed up against human warmth.

I let out a shaky breath, a relieved smile spreading across my lips-- Roman.

My panic gradually subsided, washing away with calm waves as I turned my head to look at him. The sun did him good. Roman's hair was a very specific shade of brown, but in the sun, it had twinges of orange and golden hues. If I were to ever bring it up to him, I know he'd protest and say he was nowhere near ginger. He wasn't, and I was aware of that; as usual, he wouldn't get the point.

After some careful maneuvering, I managed to turn in Roman's heavy embrace, facing him. His plush lips were gently parted, and his long, brown lashes weighed over his eyes-- he also had a rather hefty case of bedhead which I couldn't help but find beyond endearing. Up close like this, completely still, I could see the nearly invisible freckles painting the apples of his cheeks, study the curve of his upper lip, and the scar-like indent on his right cheek. I dared to trace my thumb over it, feeling the softness of Roman's skin against the pad of my finger-- this was beauty unmatched.

He was so beautiful.

And he was mine.

With the gentlest of pressures, I leaned forward, barely brushing my lips across Roman's. I didn't dare to fully kiss him. I wouldn't dare to wake him up. If only we could lay like this forever, undisturbed and alone.

Forever.

Memories of last night swarmed my brain, pushing out all the memories of Letha's sad, green eyes. I smiled as I realized the ache between my legs hadn't subsided-- the sting remained. It had actually happened. I hadn't made it all up. And I would've stayed engulfed in my cloud of complete and utter awe if Roman hadn't nearly scared the living crap out of me with the following.

His voice was raw with sleep as his eyes remained closed; "It's rude to stare,"

I practically arched right off the bed again. Had Roman not had his arms around me in a deadweight hold, I was sure I'd have flown right down to the floor. "Christ!" I hissed, shocked. How had he known? "Sorry... Did I wake you?"

Roman seemed too sleepy to grant me a proper answer, and he settled for a short grunt; "Sleep,"

"It's already morning!--"

"Don't care. Sleep," With his next breath, he pulled me even closer, until the tips of our noses were touching.

I was almost glad Roman's eyes were closed. At least he didn't see the hefty blush creeping up my cheeks. It dawned on me that he maybe had a point-- we had never had the pleasure of having nowhere to be, with no one to wake us up, or school to go to.

There was one thing I wanted to say, but I was scared he'd get upset at my use of words-- no, fuck it; "You're so pretty," I whispered, reaching up to brush my fingers over the tips of his long, long lashes. "You can't expect me not to stare when you look like this."

Roman's brows drew together, yet he allowed me to do as I pleased in his sleepy state. "I'm not pretty,"

Knew it. "Yeah, you are,"

"Just go to sleep,"

"You're unbelievably pretty,"

"... Please just sleep,"

I was aware that I was annoying him, but something about the way his voice got all harsh in the morning made me want to hear him more. Roman's breath fanned over the skin at the tip of my nose with the gentlest breeze as I sighed against his lips; God, how I loved him. "I don't want to sleep... but I can lay here with you, if you want,"

Roman hummed, the dark rumble in his chest nearly vibrating the bed in the process. "Just don't go anywhere,"

"I won't,"

"Ever,"

"I won't,"

With Roman's next breath, I knew he finally believed me-- finally. It hit him for the first time last night that I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't going anywhere, and it hit him again now. Forever was a dead serious plan of mine, and I was intent on making him understand that no matter what. "You're prettier," he eventually said, nudging my nose with his. "You're like the first pleasant sip of water after you've recovered from a sore throat."

"... Specific,"

Roman let out a short, annoyed groan; "Sleep,"

I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to possibly face Letha again. With my palms against Roman's soft cheeks, I placed a loving kiss against his parted lips, feeling him sigh into me. "Good morning, Rome,"

He smiled, fulfilled, as though he couldn't hold it back anymore; "Good morning, baby,"

"Did you at least sleep well?--"

"Sleep!"

"... But I really don't want to,"

With another sigh, Roman stirred, pulling me closer to press a lazy kiss to my jaw. "Either you go back to sleep, or we fuck. You gotta give me something to work with, here,"

I stilled. "That's... not a bad idea,"

Roman's classic smirk illuminated my morning. "Turn around, then,"

"Huh?--"

"Trust me,"

Sometimes, when I was lonely, before everything with Roman, I used to kiss the skin between my knuckles and imagine someone else was kissing me. The small sounds, and the tingling sensation pooling in my stomach, would distract me from the unbearable feeling of loneliness. The reality of it.

Which is why, when Roman brought my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my knuckles before turning me around, I knew I wasn't alone.

Actually, it wasn't just that that showed me I wasn't-- the repeated strokes of Roman's cock filling me was certainly reminder enough.

It was that sort of lazy morning sex I had only read about in those odd novels my mom would hide around the house, or heard about from my friends which I no longer had. This was a different type of sex from yesterday's, which had been so highly connected and emotional-- and this was not to say that this right now wasn't both connected and emotional, but it was... comforting. Like we were taking joy in being able to do just this. To enjoy one another in a sleepy, slow form.

Roman's grip around my throat wasn't hard or choking-- it was more of a hold to keep me in place as he let out a breathy grunt against my shoulder, sinking into me with slow, lazy strokes from behind. "We should do this more often," Roman murmured against my ear, listening to my small whimpers. "Isn't this fun?"

I could hear his stupidly pretty smile. Fucking Romy Schneider. "What, sex?" Obviously?

Roman's deep laugh against my ear nearly had me shuddering; "In the morning," he purred.

"That's gonna be-- hard," My last words were cut off by the hitch of my breath. This felt too good. "Parents and-- and all." It was true, though. How were we supposed to do this with our parents in the house? I doubted Roman's mom was out on business trips all the time, anyway.

With a small huff, I was pulled even tighter to his chest, almost as a reprimand-- I had no idea why it made my cheeks burn. "You'll learn to be quiet," Roman breathed, kissing up the shell of my ear. "Right?"

"I--"

"You'll be a good little girl for me and be quiet, hm?"

And just as I was about to protest, to remind him it was probably a little rude to have sex with other people in the house (I had no idea actually, was there no etiquette to it?), the hand Roman had around my waist slid between my legs, coaxing them further apart. All my thoughts of having a proper conversation went out the window the second he pressed two fingers to my clit, circling it as his kisses moved to the skin between my ear and my jaw.

It was impossible not to give in to the feeling; Roman was intoxicating. I whimpered with the next brush of his cock against my sweet spot, the different sensations dulling my brain with every thrust-- "Yeah,"

Roman let out a hum of approval; "Just for me?"

"Only-- Only you,"

I could practically feel him melt against me. "That's my girl,"

It was an oddity how much Roman enjoyed the sound of it. How much he enjoyed knowing he finally had a companion in the world. I could feel his cock twitch inside of me with the reminder, with the need to become one.

Because at the end of the day, that's what we were now.

We were one.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next day at school was the easiest day to handle in a while. It didn't matter that people were staring, that my reputation was still tarnished, because I finally felt the stream of love floating my way that I had been craving my whole life.

"You need to start zipping this up," Roman huffed, reaching for the zipper of my jacket. He pulled me closer to the railing he was sitting on by the school entrance, shaking his head. "It's getting cold. Don't be stupid." This was a new level of intimacy. The quiet moments, the small, shared moments of care. He was almost annoyed that I hadn't done it myself, that I hadn't thought to take care of myself, thoughtless little girl.

I loved it when he got protective like this. Absolutely adored it. It only reminded me of how much I loved him, and consequently, how I couldn't tell him.

I glanced at Peter, who sat next to Roman, and held back a snicker. I could bet about a hundred dollars that he had never seen his best friend so ridiculously protective before. "She's not twelve," he tried, nudging Roman's shoulder, earning a displeased grunt.

Oh, of course Peter didn't get it. Roman Godfrey, sweetly zipping up my jacket-- the simplest of all things. Nonetheless, it brought a twinge of scarlet to my cheeks as I spotted a group of cheerleaders passing us on the way to the school entrance; the looks of seething jealousy in their eyes only brought me joy. A part of me wanted the sight of Roman being sweet to leave them with a feeling of pure agony. I wanted them all to suffer. Always. For their heads to be bashed in like Jasmine nearly did to herself into her locker; I wished it upon them. On them all.

... I needed to snap out of this.

Roman had been right-- it was getting chilly in Hemlock Grove. I shivered when he finished buttoning my buttons, smiling down at him where he sat with Peter, glad none of them could read my thoughts. I wondered whether Roman would be horrified or... comforted by the fact that I was capable of wishing cruelty upon others, just like him.

It didn't matter. None of it did. Especially not now that he was looking up at me with those big, green eyes of his with his hands tucked into his jacket, looking handsome as ever. From this angle, Roman's shoulders were almost broader, and the more I thought about his physique, the more I thought about last night when he was completely undressed.

Completely undressed, on top of me, loving me.

... Loving me.

If only he did.

Fuck-- I couldn't think about that right now. The need to draw him in and have him all over again would overcome me soon, and I needed to push it down. It would be quite unfortunate if I started acting like a cat in heat every time I saw him from now on. "I need to get to class," I said, keeping my hands to myself despite how much I wanted to run them through Roman's hair.

His eyes softened as he scanned me, jacket fully zipped up and all. "What do you have now?" he asked, now toying with the fabric of my pockets.

"Math, sadly,"

Peter looked like he couldn't wait to escape the tension that ensued the two of us being in such close proximity. "Oh, right," Peter muttered, clicking his tongue against his palate as he sat back on the banister. "Math, second period... With Letha, right?"

The name was enough to make me freeze, and just for a second, it felt like the air got colder. I was sure I might've even flinched. The image of Letha in my dreams, white as though drained of blood, clouded my vision as my heart started to thump painfully. Why was I reacting like this?

Also, Roman looked like he had been greatly offended by something. With furrowed brows, he sat back and sent Peter a look of what the fuck. "How do you even know that?" he muttered, reaching one arm forward to drag me closer by my waist, his eyes not leaving Peter's to scan his every minuscule reaction.

I was relieved by Roman's touch-- my fingers dipped into the short hair at the nape of his neck, unsure what was happening.

On the other hand, Peter seemed to have a hard time recovering from what I could only guess was a slip-up. "I don't know," he said, shrugging as his eyes shied away. "I just remember it, I guess."

Roman snapped; "Why?"

Okay-- I didn't want to be here for this conversation. I couldn't hear more about Letha, not after my cryptic dream. It didn't make matters any better that Peter was right, and that I would see her in my next class. I stopped playing with Roman's hair, placing a short kiss to the top of his head; "I'm heading off," I mumbled, nodding shortly to Peter before excusing myself.

Having got a quick whiff of Roman's heavy, intoxicating perfume, I closed my eyes and clutched my books tightly to my chest as I walked to class. The sheer smell of him, the softness of his hair, the kindness of his gestures-- it all made my head wander back to last night. The way it felt to have him inside me, how he took care of me, and how good it all felt. Allowing the memories to float back into my mind, I didn't realize I was walking around with a bright smile on my face until I sat down in math class and got a few odd looks from the other students around my seat. I wasn't usually this cheery, I suppose.

Life felt good. When I thought about Roman, everything felt great. I made myself comfortable behind my desk, feeling my tummy tingle with my reminiscing of last night; I wanted him more than ever. Now that I knew we could be together like that, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to be able to detach from him. And just as I thought I was about to explode into a burst of butterflies, I stuck my hand in my coat to reach for my phone, only to find what felt like crumbled-up paper.

Confused, I unfolded it;

i miss the look on your face when you cum. miss you miss you miss you. let's find a quiet place somewhere and get very very noisy after school, what do you think about that? do tell. i want to know your every thought, actually. what makes you tick, and so forth. know that i'm probably thinking about you right now. always.

- your favorite (hopefully)

Oh, Roman and his notes. When had he managed to put it in there? A few minutes ago, when he toying with my pockets? Sneaky. I was dead sure my cheeks had turned a peculiar shade of pink by the time I felt someone put down their bag in the empty seat next to me, and I was too drunk on the euphoria to glance at my partner for today's class. How I loved Roman-- I loved him to the point where the tips of my fingers burned when I thought about him. And knowing he was probably in class now as well, thinking about me too... no, it was almost too much to bear.

However, when something much harder to face suddenly sat down next to me, I would've loved to get sucked right back into my tingling cave of Roman-comfort.

Letha.

Letha was here.

Letha was sitting next to me, gazing back at me with those trademark green Godfrey eyes.

Fuck. I immediately crumbled up the note, stuffing it down my pocket to hide the content of it from her. Knowing Letha, she'd probably barf at the sight of the first sentence. "What are you doing?" I hissed, glancing around to scour the classroom for empty seats. "There's a free table two rows down--"

"I like sitting here," Letha's face remained free of strong emotion, and she turned away to unpack her supplies. "It's close to the window, and I need the natural sunlight. It helps the headache I get from the lamps in here, don't you remember?"

She said it so matter-of-factly, and for a second, it felt as though I had been teleported back to two months ago. I didn't know how to act around Letha anymore. "Sure," I mumbled. Just my luck.

As class started, I would glance over at Letha every once in a while. She seemed so peaceful, undisturbed by my presence, and I wasn't sure why that annoyed me to this extent. Was it perhaps the fact that she sought out forgiveness from me when she refused to give me any in return? That she was seeking acceptance about the situation only when it suited her?

It was odd to look at Letha and see her in colours. After my dream last night, I could only see her in her undead form, dead to me.

To my dismay, Letha leaned over to my side of the table a little later that class; "Do you have a pencil?" she whispered.

A Godfrey asking to borrow my pencil? It usually led to no good. Still, I handed her one--

"Thank you,"

"No problem,"

This was so weird. It felt too normal, yet it was agony to act that it was. However, the situation only worsened when the teacher asked us to work in pairs and solve an equation on the board. I held my breath, daring to glance at Letha; she was already looking at me. "You have no clue how to solve this stuff, do you?"

I shrugged. She knew me too well. "You've probably already solved it in your head,"

Letha's smile was kind, genuine. "Want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah,"

"Do you even do your homework anymore?"

I knew her question was coming from a good place. I could feel it. After all, I barely managed to do my homework when Letha and I had regular study sessions at her place. Just thinking about it made me remember the sweet smell of her sheets, which never mixed well with the incense she was always burning for 'good karma'. "Roman has a guy that does them for him, and I write my answers off of his," I mumbled.

I expected the mention of him to put her off-- yet Letha simply nodded, raising her brows in a conniving look. "He's corrupted you,"

"I've let him,"

"I know," Letha's green eyes shimmered with words untold as she echoed; "I know."

It was odd to face her like this. For her to know my feelings for Roman, and not walk off this time. This was the first conversation we'd had in months where we weren't at each other's throats. And suddenly, Letha took the leap I wasn't allowed to take-- she leaned in closer as she dared to whisper the forbidden words; "I miss you,"

Oh no. "Letha--"

"You never said goodbye, and now a part of me believes you're coming back,"

I let out a shaky breath as I moved my chair further away from hers. What she said had been too close to the words in my dream last night. It was chilling. "Of course I never said goodbye," I hissed back, feeling my emotions boil to a simmer. "You didn't let me." There it was, laid out in the open. "You cut me off, Letha." She had. "And you left me for dead!"

Letha held her breath high in her chest as her mouth formed a tight line. It wasn't until she moved her chair closer to mine and gripped the table harder that she allowed herself to breathe; "I left you for dead because you basically fucking stabbed me!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"And you think I did?" Letha hissed. "You gave me no choice!"

"That's not true! I came clean to you, and the least you could've done was to!--"

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry!"

We stared at one another in silence. There it was, my apology, served on a silver platter. I had heard it once before, but Roman wasn't here to control the outcome of it this time. Something within the bounds of my soul was relieved of anger and tension, and I couldn't halt the result of it; "I'm sorry too,"

Letha froze for a good second or two. Her lips parted in disbelief as her grip on the table lifted, and she sat back in her chair with a slow nod. It gradually dawned on her what this meant for us.

"Do you think it could work again?"

I indulged with a soft sigh; "What could, Letha?"

"Us," she said, allowing tears to well in her eyes. "You and I. Our friendship."

It was easier to breathe, all of a sudden. I knew that an apology wasn't enough to mend our wounds, but it was a start. I nodded along with Letha and watched as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a smile-- I caught myself mirroring it.

"So..." she tried.

"So..."

"Did you hear that Brooke Bluebell bought a big needle from a pharmacy?"

I grimaced; "What? No, why?"

"To get her revenge on Roman," Letha held back a laugh, biting down on her lip as she turned to write down the answer to the math equation. "From a few months ago, if you remember the whole ordeal."

"Oh," I breathed. "Needle-gate?"

"Needle-gate,"

Despite how concerning the big needle sounded, it was a funny reminder of the past; "I've gotta tell Roman,"

"Yeah, you better. I think he's blocked me, so I'm out of the picture," Letha sat back in her chair after finishing her work, and she glanced back at me as she tapped the pencil against the paper. "You've gotta tell him about prom too."

"... Prom?"

"Yes, prom," Grabbing her bag, Letha rummaged around for a few seconds until she found a flyer. It was purple, super lavish-- "It's in two weeks, I think. Kinda short notice, but I have a feeling he'd secretly want to go. He's into the classics, so I'd suggest you indulge him."

I felt my cheeks turn red as I kept my eyes on the flyer. Just the thought of me in a dress, Roman in a suit; it made me warm. Uncomfortably warm. "I think he'd rather die, actually," I mumbled, handing it back to Letha. "Are you going?"

"Meh, don't think so," She stuffed the flyer back into her bag and sighed, reaching for her phone. "The guy that I'm into says he doesn't want to go, so I'll stay home."

It hit me that this was the first time I didn't know who Letha had a crush on. Previously, she would tell me all about them. There was a Tyler, there was a Scott, and then there was a third one who had a really peculiar last name. And just as I was about to scour my brain for more names, a particular one popped up on Letha's phone as she turned it on;

Peter: I think it's time to...

That was all I was able to see, as she needed to click on it to read the whole message. My eyes widened as I sat back in my chair, sending Letha an odd look. It was clear by her body language that she hadn't intended for me to see that, and she immediately flipped her phone.

... Was something going on?

Letha cleared her throat and turned back to me with the same smile, yet it felt disingenuous. "That's a different Peter," she said, a somewhat panicked squeak to her voice. "It's the neighbour. He might be complaining about the amount of cars my dad has parked on our street, cause they don't fit into our garage anymore. It needs to be discussed, apparently. It's time, or whatever."

That seemed like a typical rich-kid problem. I could somewhat buy it. "Is it a Godfrey thing to be crazy about cars?"

"Just you wait until you hear about the cigarettes. Dad's a real chain-smoker,"

"... Don't tell me they're cinnamon-flavoured?"

Letha sighed; "Sadly, yeah. The garage smells like a goddamn gingerbread house,"

The laughter that followed wasn't intentional, and it blended in with the ring of the bell.

This was nice. To see the smile on Letha's face felt good, like a warm soup when you have a cold. It was a comfort to know that we could finally be normal around each other, despite the fact that we would possibly never be friends again like before, or even forgive one another. I doubted that I ever could, fully.

However, just as I was about to excuse myself, I spotted a silhouette by the door which made my blood run cold.

Fuck.

Roman.

I saw it in his eyes immediately. The confusion, which quickly morphed into something darker, anger-like. My laughter died down in an instant as my body kicked into a fight-or-flight response, suddenly scared out of my mind to be caught laughing with Letha-- she seemed to catch on momentarily, but remained in her seat as she watched me shove all my supplies and books into my backpack, hurrying to get to Roman.

I had forgotten that he wanted to pick me up after class. I had forgotten my promise to not fraternise with the enemy-- fucking stupid.

Hoping to conceal the slight tremble in my hands, I put one of them on Roman's arm when I caught up to him in the doorway, smiling up at him with an anxious breath stuck in my chest. "Hey, you," I tried, giving the sleeve of his shirt a gentle tug as I always did, a plea for him to bend down and kiss me. It was impossible to reach all the way up to his lips without it, anyway.

But Roman's attention hadn't left Letha. His eyes had narrowed, glaring at her with fury apparent in the way his jaw clenched. Had telepathy been a real thing, I'd have thought they were yelling at each other through their minds. I almost wanted to butt in and say Letha wasn't bothering me, that we were having a normal conversation-- however, I knew that would only make it worse.

"Come," Roman said with a low growl, unlike anything I had heard from him before. With one last scorned look at Letha, he gripped my wrist and started marching down the hallway; I didn't expect to be yanked from my place the way I was, and I was sure my legs were fully in the air for a microsecond or two; "Roman!--"

"This day just keeps getting worse," he muttered, not waiting for me to find my balance as he continued to drag me down the hallway.

Roman's grip around my wrist was hard. "Slow down!" I tried, grabbing his arm with my free hand. "It's not what it looks like! It's not-- " Everything about this made me dizzy, and his sudden anger made the familiar feeling of dread pool in my stomach. It only got worse when he pulled me into an empty classroom, slamming the door shut behind us.

I took a few steps away from him, waiting for the bomb to explode. My breath came out in short, ragged motions as my hands remained clenched by my sides in anticipation. It felt like I was five years old again, waiting to get reprimanded for having drawn on the walls. "Roman, I--"

"Shut up," Of all the things I expected, it wasn't this. Not at all. Because suddenly, my body was pressed against the door of the classroom with Roman's arms around me, and his lips pressing needy kisses to my neck. My bag dropped to the floor-- What the...?

"Not here," was all I managed to say before my breath hitched, and my hands automatically flew up into his hair. "Roman, please, wait--"

"No," He was more dismissive than ever-- I wondered why I sort of liked it. Why it made my stomach tingle, why I wanted him to do whatever he wanted to me. Was it possibly after what had happened last night? "No more bullshit."

I closed my eyes, hoping we'd have a few seconds to disperse if someone walked in on us right now. With the force of Roman's weight against mine keeping the door firmly shut, I was sure of it. My head lulled against the door as I felt him latch on a particular spot on the side of my neck, marking my skin with his possession. I knew I was screwed-- you can't get more screwed than this.

I was sure I disassociated for a few seconds, because suddenly, Roman's lips brushed against my ear, and I had to suppress a shiver. "We're gonna have a damn serious talk," he said, keeping me still against the door. "We need it. I need it."

Something told me we wouldn't be talking much if he continued kissing me like this. "Let's-- Let's talk, then,"

When Roman pulled away, I could finally see the frustration on his face. The way his brows were drawn together, how high his breath was in his chest, and the narrow glare of his gaze. Still, I didn't think it would result in this; it took me a while to realize his hands were no longer at my sides, and that they were now unzipping my jeans.

"What are you doing?" I breathed, grabbing at his wrists. "Don't--"

"You think you can outsmart me?" It was as though someone had ripped the curtains off its hinges, now revealing what was always hidden behind them. Roman's breath fell heavy against my cheek as a small twitch of his upper lip revealed his inner turmoil; "You think you can tell me one thing, and then do the opposite when I'm not looking?"

My anxiety grew as I realized Roman's strength was unmatched. There was nothing I could do to fight him. "What are you talking about?" It was hard to come up with a cohesive sentence when I was this stressed.

"Peter told me, y'know," Roman continued, a low growl in his voice prevalent in ways it had never been before. "He told me the obvious, of course. That Letha is trying to reconcile, that she misses you... But then he told me the part I didn't know. The part you probably didn't want me to know."

It was with his last ominous words that he managed to dip his fingers past my waistband, past the hem of my underwear, and placed two fingers on my clit. The unexpected touch immediately made me squirm against the door, squeezing my eyes shut. "Why-- Why are you doing this?" was all I managed to stutter out, my hands still locked around his wrist. He knew I didn't want this. He knew. "I don't-- don't know what you're--"

"Talking about?" Roman rubbed rough circles around my clit as he placed his forehead against mine, pressing my head further up against the door. "Oh, so you're not gonna tell me?" His voice got more patronizing, as though this was fifth grade and he was teasing me in the courtyard-- "Is my good little girl gonna be real stupid and not tell me? You wanna act dumb with me, huh?"

Something about his tone made my cheeks burn. His tone, his words. This was not a good way to find out about a possible kink. My mind dulled with the stimulation against my clit, and it didn't take long before I eventually felt my arousal pooling. In all ways of the word, I felt like my body was betraying me. "Not here," I echoed, breath hitching. It felt like he was pressing a button on me, like I was a toy, thoughtlessly repeating it over and over; "Not here, Rome-- N-Not, here, please--"

"I'll stop when you tell me,"

"Tell you what?" I cried, squeezing his wrists as my hips bucked into his hand. Roman knew how to touch me, even if it was at my disadvantage. My mind was racing; someone could walk in, someone could see, someone could--

"How Letha helped you get us back together," Roman's breath was so warm, so angry, against my face, it felt like he was drawing my scorching red blush on my cheeks. "How you went and asked her for advice on how to decrypt me? Maybe you don't know me at all, is that it?"

I didn't want to think about this. I didn't want to be present. I didn't want to think about the fact that Roman had gotten the information all twisted, that Peter must've had quite an extensive talk with Letha to even know parts of this story, and that Roman couldn't find another way to talk it out than to do it like this. Forcefully. Because right now, it felt too good. It felt way too good. The sensation of his fingers rubbing circles into my clit, running them between my folds to gather up my slick, only to return to my bundle of nerves to make my legs shake with a mix of anxiety and pleasure, felt too good.

"That's not true," I tried in between heaves of air. What would it make me if I came like this? "That's not-- not true, Rome--"

"I won't ever be enough for you, will I?"

"No-- no, you're everything!--"

"Because the end of the day, you'll go back to Letha," Roman's voice was tight, restricted, as though he was holding back a heap of emotions. "No matter what I do, how gently I fuck you, treat you, you won't want to be with me forever. No one does."

If only he knew. If only he knew that I loved him. My hands let go of his wrist, and I placed my palms against his chest, forcing some space between us with a push. That seemed to do the trick-- Roman's fingers slowed down as our eyes met, and he was faced with my watery gaze. "I didn't lie last night," I said after finally catching my breath. "I've never lied to you." An unnervingly big part of me longed for him to rub me through my high, which was not too far away from the horizon, but the sane part of me knew I had to put an end to his venture into the dark ways of his past.

Roman's mouth pulled into a straight line; "Peter wouldn't lie to me either,"

"I'm not saying he is. He just got the story wrong,"

There was a long silence, and I knew this was my moment-- I reached for Roman's wrist again, and with careful, slow motions, I got his hand out of my underwear. "Letha heard us fight, and she came over to ask about it afterwards," I started. "There was no plotting. No decrypting. The only thing she told me, was to look for a bigger picture when it comes to fighting with you. I didn't ask for it! And what you saw just now, was us being friendly. Not friends. We will never be again, after everything that happened!"

"But... you were talking on the stairs," Roman echoed, as something in his gaze faltered. "I saw you when we were leaving the party."

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?"

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman?

"Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you."

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time,"

The memory was as fresh as day. "You were right next to me, Roman. If I was hiding something, I wouldn't have talked to her in front of you," I let go of his hand, letting out a shaky breath as he took another step away from me. I could sense that his mind was cracking itself in half. "I don't need Letha to tell me how to fix things with you. Contrary to what you were thinking, I do know you. And I know you well enough to see that this isn't you being angry with me, but rather your fucking abandonment issues surfacing because you haven't dealt with them yet!"

It was clear that Roman didn't expect me to raise my voice, but hell-- I was so done with this behavioural pattern of his.

"It might be good for me to not have the worst relationship with all the girls at this school, have you thought about that?" I said, feeling my fists clench at my sides. "That Letha and I being friendly and not at each other's throats might be good for me? And that it might also be good for your relationship with your cousin, mind you, who you've seemingly blocked?"

Roman remained silent, at a loss for words.

My breathing had yet to calm down, along with my arousal. "You will always be enough for me," I said, softening my tone. "You're all I've ever wanted. I'm not leaving you. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell you this unless you trust me." I zipped up my pants, huffing as I picked up my bag. It felt as though my knees were about to give out-- I could feel my slick dripping into my underwear. This was a feeling I never wanted to revisit again. Ready to storm off, to slam the door behind me with a bang and leave Roman here to wallow in whatever he was feeling at the moment, something else hit me like a blow to the head; "Wait, how did Peter know?"

It couldn't be. It seriously couldn't be.

Roman cleared his throat, no longer meeting my gaze. I could see it in the light pink of his cheeks that he was embarrassed about his outburst. "He said they talked at the party," he mumbled under his breath. "Briefly. Just for a second."

"Ah, is that right?"

Roman caught my tone, glancing up at me through his brows. "Why?"

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"... Maybe, I don't know? I was busy getting laid that night, don't ask me,"

I would've laughed had I not been so pissed off. I could see the lack of reaction on my face getting to Roman, and he gave in to a slight shiver. Finally, the roles were reversed, just for a second. "Rome?"

He looked relieved to hear me use his nickname-- "Yes?"

"You will never do anything like that to me ever again,"

Roman tucked his hands into his pockets, head hanging low. "I... really don't know what came over me--"

"Never," I snapped, biting my teeth together. I was afraid I'd start yelling. "You will never."

I wondered whether anyone had talked to him like this. If this was the first time in history that Roman had gotten a boundary imposed on him. Maybe by his mother when she was scolding him as a child, but after that? I somehow doubted it. He remained silent, eyes fixating on his polished shoes.

Finally getting the opportunity to look at him this close, I spotted the vial of my blood still hanging around his neck, poking out from beneath his shirt. In the back of my mind, after having read that stupid book on upirs, a huge part of me thought he was getting affected by it. That the constant smell of blood right underneath his nose was activating dormant senses, dormant thoughts.

But upirs weren't real.

Not.

Real.

Roman's silence made me feel unimaginably guilty, as though I had been the one to force myself upon him-- he looked like a kicked puppy. I hated it. So, I gathered my next breath; "Could you at least say you're sorry? Then I'll feel better about inviting you home for dinner later,"

Roman's eyes lit up as they met mine, surprised I'd even offer. "You... still want that?"

"I can barely breathe when we're apart, what do you think?"

He let out the breath he had been holding, falling apart; "I'm really sorry,"

I didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about the fact that the scared look on my face would probably get him going for months on end. That he'd think about it at night, when he woke up, and especially when he got off at the thought of me. The scared look in my eyes.

No. I didn't want to think about it.

Roman was the first to approach, slowly daring to tilt my head up with two fingers underneath my chin and kissing me with the utmost gentle touch. No tongue, no urgency-- just a small, soft brush of our lips against one another, creating sparks that went all the way down into the tips of my fingers.

Letha had been right when she first warned me about him, all those months ago. Roman was the epitome of an asshole. A core so rotten, it was impossible to carve out all the bad. You could try, you could dig, you could pray, but all of it would never go away. It would forever fester in his bones, infect the very basis of his DNA, and course through his veins.

But... when he kissed me like this, I could forget it.

I could forget.

When he kissed me like this, I only loved him more.

I knew I would love him forever.

And as the kiss deepened with the sweetest pressure, I reached for the vial of my blood around Roman's neck-- he didn't notice the way I twisted the capsule, figuring out which way to turn it so it would screw itself off. I had a feeling I would need to know this information in times of crisis.

Just in case.

Just in case. ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The rest of the evening went on as normal. Weirdly enough.

Roman had fully snapped out of his rage, and he had turned into a version of himself I hadn't seen before. He wasn't joking around. He wasn't making dirty jokes.

He was... calm.

Assured.

I knew this was probably a form of keeping on the low, to not take a wrong step and blow up in the minefield he had made himself. Roman laid still in my bed with his hands behind his head, watching as I scoured my closet. If there was going to be a prom, I had to look for a dress, right?

"What are you looking for?" he asked, yawning. "Need some help?"

I shrugged, hoping to brush his question off. It was a bit embarrassing to be talking about this, seeing as he hadn't asked me to be his date or anything. "Just looking for a dress... Wondering if I still have the one I'm thinking about,"

"What do you need a dress for?" Roman sat up in the bed, watching me like a puppy would.

"I... like dresses. Need to wear them more often,"

"But it's getting colder, don't you think it's better to wear something warmer for the season?"

What was up with this obsession of his lately? He had to keep me warm at all times, supposedly. "You sound so polite," I mumbled, wading through my clothes. "Stop looking so guilty, please."

Roman let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair. "I feel bad,"

This was intolerable. It gnawed on my heart. "I told you we're fine, so please don't," I turned to him with one hand on my hip, hoping to stare some sense into him; "I even wore this crazy top to make your mood better, look!"

Roman's eyes darted down to the hot pink crop top I was wearing, and he bit down on his growing smile to stay neutral. Nonetheless, I could see it on his face that he remembered exactly where I had gotten it, and possibly the feeling he had back in that closet when he came into the soft fabric of it. "I'd rather you wore my sweater, like usual,"

"It's in the washer. And this top is fucking iconic," I pointed to the words which were stretched out across my chest. "See? 'Rock on', in big, black letters. You need to rock on more, Roman."

His smile immediately cracked, and he propped himself up on his elbows as he leaned down on the bed. "I've done enough rocking for today, that's for sure,"

I finally saw a way I could turn his mood upside down. With a smug smile, I walked over to the pink speaker I got for my seventeenth birthday and connected it to my phone. "Rome, baby, who's big in rock these days?"

Roman chuckled, rolling over on his side to follow me with his eyes. "Depends what type of rock you're looking for,"

"Anything,"

"I don't know, then. Anything from Nirvana to Blur, I suppose,"

Bingo. I guessed that Roman was going for bands he thought I had heard of, and he had hit jackpot. With a click of a button, the intro to Song 2 by Blur started playing through the speakers, which earned me another laugh from my boyfriend. It was a typical rock song-- it started out rather quiet until it broke out into complete chaos.

I crawled back into bed, kissing my way up Roman's stomach, which only made his breath hitch. The giggles brewing in his chest resonated through my body that was pressed up against his, and I joined the laughter as I kissed his rosy cheeks. It was intimate, it was sweet. I loved that I could do this with him now, that he was comfortable enough to be put in a position like this, and that he allowed me to pull stunts like these.

And after all, I decided I would show my love through action, as I couldn't tell him about the extent of my feelings. I knew he'd get up and bolt right out the window like something straight out of a cartoon.

Roman caught his breath, placing his hands on both sides of my face-- all the emotions he couldn't tell me either were on display in his big, green eyes, roaming around the galaxies in his dark pupils. "I trust you,"

"... What?--"

"I keep thinking about what you said earlier," he tried, stroking his thumbs across the soft skin of my cheeks. "I promise I trust you. And I'm sorry that I get in my head about it, because you don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than what I can give you, yet... I want you to stay with me. I really, really want you to stay with me."

This was a rather deep conversation to be having with loud rock music in the background. I should've definitely picked something more mellow. With a sigh, I leaned down to kiss the tip of Roman's nose-- "I told you I'm not going anywhere," I breathed. "I'm yours forever, if you'll have me."

Finally, Roman's eyes lit up. Lit up like fireworks painting the sky. "Forever sounds nice,"

"It does, doesn't it?" It was impossible not to smile.

"It so does,"

It was a relief when he pulled me tightly to his chest and kissed me. It was the type of kiss I had dreamed of having in my bed on a lazy afternoon, the type of kiss which made my heart swell as it beat against his. The type of kiss which I had only ever seen in movies, the type of kiss I could never imagine would feel this good.

No one ever told me that making out with your boyfriend was such a thrill. To be tangled up as one, to be a heap of bodies coming together, to be a mess, and that it would make my whole being vibrate with joy. Roman's lips were so gentle to the touch, yet his kisses were so hot, all-taking, that I wanted nothing more than to melt into him and become one.

It didn't take long before he rolled us over-- I knew he wouldn't be the type to like anyone on top except for him. My hands were in his hair, tugging at the tips of his dark locks to make my fingers busy, as Roman's tongue licked a stripe up my lips; it was so soft, a feathery touch, and it drew out a shaky moan.

I didn't know any of this was possible before I met him. I really had no idea, silly me.

My mind didn't register the meek whine that escaped me, possibly to protect my psyche, as Roman pulled away. A thin string of saliva connected our lips as we simply breathed down at each other, gazing into the other's eyes-- I was sure mine widened a little when I felt something hard pressing against my lower abdomen.

Fuck, that was still damn hot.

It certainly gave the words rock on a new meaning, no?

"I need to ask you something," Roman breathed, followed by a sigh of relief when he heard the song was over. "But don't freak out on me, okay?"

I nodded, eager to have his lips back on mine again; "Sure,"

"And before you judge me, I'm not the biggest fan of this idea myself, cause I think it's kinda lame. Keep that in mind,"

"Okay?"

"So... Heh," Roman let out a soft, nervous laugh, nudging my nose with his. "You might actually want to find a dress for this to work, though."

My fingers traced circles into his hair; "Rome,"

"Yeah?"

"Stop rambling, please,"

"Oh,"

"You were saying?"

"Oh," Roman cleared his throat, placing a short kiss to my lips. "Do you want to go to prom?"

Had I not been trapped beneath him, I would've shot right out of the bed. My eyes widened as I pulled him in for another kiss, hoping to suppress the squeal that threatened to escape me.

"Wait, wait--" Roman's words were muffled against my lips before he raised himself up, still not done. What else was there to say, though? "So, you're going?"

"... What?"

"With friends, or...?"

"Roman, what friends?"

"Ah, right," Once again, he cleared his throat and got all serious again; "So... would you want to go with me?"

It took a second for it to dawn on me that Roman had been genuinely confused. That he thought I would be going with anyone else but him. That he thought, even for just a second, that there was a possibility that I would tell him no. "Are you crazy? Of course!"

Oh, how I loved him.

I loved him to bits.

And here I was, squealing about going to prom. Roman had made me a puddle of girly with his heartthrob-ways. It would've made me sick, had we not immediately gone back to making out, but this time, with bright smiles on our faces. Kissing someone while smiling was definitely in my top three of all things possible on earth.

Second place was being picked up like I weighed nothing, oddly enough. That was one of the perks of having a tall boyfriend, after all.

And the first place was a no-brainer. It was definitely sex.

Oh, and who would've guessed-- we'd end up having sex a few minutes later, believe it or not. When your boyfriend is this hot, it's impossible to resist. It was the type of sex that made up for his behavior at school today, the type of sex that made me melt into the mattress with joy and pleasure.

The cursed hot pink crop top was quickly discarded, and so was my sanity. Roman's kisses grew firm against me, muffling the sounds of my moans as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my thighs, pinning them down and folding me into submission. It was official-- there seemed to be no etiquette to sex, and my parents being in the house was an obstacle that was easy to deal with.

Just... shut up. Keep your mouth shut. Right?

But it was so damn hard. Especially as Roman angled his cock right up against my sweet spot with the help of the pillow beneath me, making me whine in pleasure against the kiss he had locked me in to ensure my silence. It was impossible. It made my toes curl, made my vision blurry, and made my mind go into complete lockdown. I entered a phase where I almost didn't care, where I couldn't care less at all, and where the only important thing was for Roman to do whatever he wanted to me.

"Fuck-- me," I rambled, my hands skimming the muscular range of his broad back as I felt my need grow insatiable.

Roman let out a huff against me, the smile on his face a visible contradiction; "What am I doing, then, gorgeous?" He was so secure, so confident, that it was impossible not to let him do whatever his heart desired to me. I trusted him with my whole being, even as his grip around my thighs started to make them ache. My lower lip quivered; "Lo--"

No, no!

"Love this," My rambling needed to end, stat.

Roman smirked into the kiss that followed; "Me too," He seemed to be catching onto my overstimulated state, and the second I let out a sigh of relief when he let go of my thighs and the pounding against my sweet spot relented, he came right back with a move I didn't expect. Roman wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up into his lap with his cock still throbbing inside me.

I suppressed a surprised yelp. "Rome!--"

"Shh," He guided my legs around him as he watched me adjust to the new feeling-- he was deeper than ever, now, and it freaked me out a bit. "Stay quiet for me, okay?"

I was on the brink of tears. It felt like my thoughts had short-circuited and left me for dead. My breath tensed in my chest as I draped my arms around Roman's neck, grabbing a fistful of his hair to ground myself, just as I knew he liked it. "Let's try something new," he purred, hands traveling up my thighs to grab my hips, lifting me up along his shaft as I gasped into his open mouth.

Even when I was on top, Roman needed to have control. Perfect. That worked out well for me, actually.

The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was on fire. The green of his eyes etched into mine, watching me with unmatched amusement-- his lips were upturned into the usual smug smirk which made my heart dance in my chest, and in vulnerable moments such as these, it also resulted in my cheeks flaring up with an embarrassing shade of pink.

It didn't take long before we found a rhythm, and before I got used to practically riding him. It was different like this, especially when Roman's hands were simply a weight on my hips, and I could fuck myself on his cock. It felt like a permission of sorts, like he was telling me he was all mine, that I could do whatever he wanted to him-- like an exchange of submission. Although, of course, Roman would never fully submit to anything in the world.

It was easy to keep quiet when the soft pillows of his lips muffled the sounds of my inevitable moans, but when they left me, it became a fight against my conscience. A small gasp would escape me here and there, along with a loud hitch of my breath, and it eventually balled on into a breathy string of ah ah ah's-- staying quiet was an impossible task. I prayed to all the Gods above that my parents wouldn't hear the mess their dearest Roman was making out of their daughter.

They had no idea he could be like this. None. He was such a sweetheart at dinner, he'd always make sure to help my mom set the table, and he'd talk sports with my dad-- they had no idea. I could see it in Roman's eyes that he found the sight of me beyond amusing. That he got off me unraveling more than anything. He only made it harder for me to stay quiet as he pressed the heel of his palm to my clit, keeping me steady with a hand on my back as his kisses trailed down my body.

"A-Ah, Rome--" I was done for. I was done for.

"Shh, just a little more," Roman's lips had stayed at my clavicle for long enough to leave a mark. It dawned on me that he was leaving a trail of hickeys, and my fist in his hair tightened as my legs quivered. This was too many sensations at once. "A little more... You can take it, right?"

I couldn't utter a cohesive sentence. The pressure on my clit, his wet, eager kisses, and the way I could set the perfect pace as I slid up and down his cock made my brain buzz with static noise. I was sure my eyes had morphed into the shape of hearts as I let out a shaky, quiet moan, filling myself up with Roman's cock over and over. The best feeling in the world.

"That's my girl..." he cooed, grabbing my waist with his free hand. "Fuck yourself on my cock, it's all yours..." His pink lips parted with pleasure as he watched me sink down on his length, enchanted by the sight. It was a delight to watch the way his perfect up-do came undone, and the way his hair fell over his forehead in messy strokes. He looked unreal, godly.

Roman's words were enough to make my hips buck into his abdomen, but my state only got worse, deteriorated, as his mouth trailed down to my breast. The moan I had to suppress when I felt his tongue against my stiffening bud was unmatched-- I was sure I started panting as he took it into his mouth, suckling it swollen as I whimpered.

I wanted to let it spill past my lips; I love you, I love you, I love you. In that sense, sex was dangerous territory for me. However, how was I supposed to resist when it felt this good?

My lips ghosted over the parts of him I could reach, his ear, his cheek, and I let my breath hitch against his skin as a familiar feeling pooled in my tummy. Aware, Roman only drove the heel of his palm harder into my clit, making it so that I was grinding up against him with every lift of my hips against his length. I gave into a tremble, unsure how to stabilize myself in this position-- "Rome," I cried, pleading for him to kiss me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to suppress the sounds that were threatening to spill past my quivering lips when my high washed over me.

Roman's free hand remained at my breast, pinching my bud between his pointer and his thumb in a firm hold which had me wincing in pleasure. He kissed up my body, my shoulders, my neck, my jaw, my cheek-- yet he hovered inches away from my lips, the smirk still prevalent. "You lost," he whispered.

Lost what?

It was as though he read my mind; "You can't stay quiet, can you?"

I really wished I could. I was trying with all my might. But I was so, so damn close, and I shook my head, hoping he'd take pity on me.

"It's okay," he cooed, his breath falling hot against my cheek as he tilted his head as though to kiss me. "You were never meant to win."

And so I crumbled. Completely. Utterly. Euphoria tore through me as I fell apart in Roman's arms, and it didn't take long before he simply wrapped his arms around me, laid me back down, and fucked me through my high as I suppressed my sobs of pleasure into his shoulder.

Honestly? I didn't remember what happened next. Completely zen, relaxed, and thoroughly fucked, I considered myself logged off for the next ten minutes or so. However, I had to run over to my mental keyboard as Roman's hand, which was previously toying with my hair, pointed to my nightstand-- "What's that?"

With a small grunt, I raised my head from his bare shoulder. Fuck. My eyes sprung wide open as I spotted The Avoidable Vampirism on display, uncovered and everything. "Uh..." How could I have left that abomination out in the open? I gulped, turning to Roman with a doe-eyed expression that I knew worked well on him. I was sure my next words would put him off his incoming queries in an instant; "It's the sequel to Twilight. Vampire erotica, the usual. Edward is gay in this book, Bella is dead, and there are tons of scenes where, uh... men kiss men. And suck each other off. Super interesting."

Unsurprisingly, Roman was immediately disinterested. "Girls," he mumbled, rolling his eyes before he pressed a short kiss to my lips. "Stop thinking about gay sex, go to sleep."

"I'm not thinking about!--"

"Sleep!"

a/n: thank you for reading this monster of a chapter!!!! as you see, Roman's going absolutely nuts... I wonder whyyy (oh we know why, don't we? don't dangle a carrot in front of a donkey or whatever they say). there are a few chapters left of this book which will be packed w shit I hope will melt your brains, but before that, I wish you all a lovely christmas and a happy new year!!! MWAH, THANK YOU!!)

here are all the chapters!!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine

106 notes · View notes

mossangelll · 13 hours ago

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Im absolutely enchanted with your yandere jinx....This brings the question tho....how would Yandere Jinx handle her darling being on her period? (I mynself am on my period and I kid you not- I feel worse than when eating taco bell)

yandere!jinx x reader on their period

honestly not as much of an overt yandere as usual - if you squint, it’s pretty much a normal jinx hc!

hcs like this which are more ‘slice of life’ are super fun and i would be interested in doing them for more characters (e.g. what they’re like when you’re sick) if anyone’s interested!

tysm for requesting

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

cw: periods, mentions of blood, mentions of kidnapping, sexual mentions but not in too much detail, slight noncon, reader isn’t referred to by any gendered pronouns but female anatomy is mentioned

yandere!jinx who can’t sleep without holding onto you during the night

yandere!jinx who reaches over for your body just to feel the cool bedsheet under her

yandere!jinx who notices the bathroom light is on and without hesitation believes that your escape attempts have finally resulted in a success

yandere!jinx who crashes into the bathroom to find…you, crying on the toilet with your head in your hands

“toots, i hope you aren’t thinking of making any stupid decisions.” her voice is still grumbly from sleep but it doesn’t manage to hide the underlying annoyance simmering beneath

you look up at her with pained eyes and that’s when she notices your underwear, pooled at your ankles and stained with blood

her eyebrows shoot to the top of her head and her demeanour softens like she was never mad in the first place

“oh! i didn’t know it was that time of the month.”

she sees how you wilt away in shame, arms crossed over your midsection, at such a normal bodily function and rushes over to cuddle you, toilet be damned

yandere!jinx can be a lot of things - overbearing, compulsive and downright abusive, but she knows that what you need right now is someone to comfort you

yandere!jinx who understands what you’re going through painfully well

yandere!jinx who still acts awkward around you for the first few periods you have when you’re in her captivity - the cons of relying on her sole father figure growing up

yandere!jinx who doesn’t trust you to go outside without trying to cry for help so she ends up getting essentials for you

yandere!jinx who doesn’t need to ask what kind of products you usually buy; she already snooped around your house before she took you and knows whether you prefer pads, tampons or cups, the kind of snacks you crave, whether you’re the angry or teary type - she knows everything

yandere!jinx who gets you a ridiculous pile of desserts she stole from some fancy piltie bakery just to make sure your cravings are satiated

yandere!jinx who washes any bloody sheets, clothes or underwear for you with her own two hands - not only is she gratified at how flustered you get, she wants to feel closer to you in any way possible and getting to do such intimate chores is honestly euphoric for her, it emphasises how you belong to her and her alone

yandere!jinx who doesn’t let you use a hot water bottle; she wants you to come to her for comfort, wants to be the one to hold her hands over your stomach and ease the cramps

yandere!jinx who gives you tiny drops of shimmer, not enough to get seriously high but enough to take the pain away

yandere!jinx who loves how your pink eyes match hers after she’s dosed you

yandere!jinx who loves to see you cry at something that’s not her because it means you won’t reject her attempts to make you feel better

yandere!jinx who hopes and prays that your cycles sync up so that you two become even more attached

yandere!jinx who massages your lower back when you complain about it aching, maybe even using special shimmer-imbued lotion she got from singed to aid her efforts

yandere!jinx who would love if their darling gets tender breasts around their period since she can cop a feel while using “pain relief” as her get out of jail free card

yandere!jinx who doesn’t care about any of the symptoms that you think are “gross” or “disgusting” - everything about you is perfect and she can’t find it in her to hate any of it

yandere!jinx who isn’t turned off by the sight of a little blood and tries to convince you to let her pleasure you, even if you are shaken up by the idea - after all, she heard that orgasms help alleviate cramps!

yandere!jinx who tells you all about her embarrassing period stories from when she was younger to make you feel better if you bleed through your clothing in front of her

yandere!jinx who becomes your personal jester if you’re bedridden; she tells you jokes and does a myriad of insane tricks that you can’t even fathom how she pulls off - it definitely gets your mind off of how terrible you feel

yandere!jinx who supports you every month and hopes that when you become accustomed to your new life, you’ll eventually do the same for her <3

masterlist

#jinx x reader #yandere jinx x reader #arcane jinx #yandere #toxic jinx #yandere!jinx #arcane headcanon #arcane #jinx league of legends #request #arcane request

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mohammad-onaba · 2 days ago

Text

As Christmas approaches😭🙏🇬🇧💔

Merry Christmas Britain as my family in Gaza try to escape death every day🙏💔🇬🇧🚨 A Christmas unlike any other While the world celebrates Christmas this year with love and joy, my family and I in Gaza live in pain, fear and death every day!💔🙏🙏😢😭

I am Mohammed from Gaza, speaking to you with a heavy and pained heart. I am sorry that I had to ask for your help, but what we are going through is what made me do it. I was living a beautiful and peaceful life, enjoying the time I spent with my family.

Imagine waking up to find that your world has changed in an instant, you have lost your safety and peace, your home has been destroyed, you have become homeless and living in conditions that no human being can bear, no food, no drink, no clothes and we suffer from psychological illnesses. I still have hope that this war will end and we will rebuild our beautiful and beloved country again and live in safety. I believe in divine power and justice and that all this pain will go away.

I am trying to endure these difficult conditions that I live in inside a small tent and a bathroom a few meters away from my tent and you know the conditions of living inside the tent and we are now living in the winter but again there is still hope. My family also, with all sadness and regret, they all lost their homes and their places of work. I have no source of income and my situation is like any Gazan who is still inside Gaza struggling with death, hunger, diseases and extreme heat. Everyone is struggling to feed his children. I cannot ask them for help, so I resorted toI have come to you with full confidence in your humanity to help me so that I can provide food, treatment and a better tent than the one I live in because it is torn and the place is full of insects. If I can provide treatment, I want to continue my life and see my children grow up around me. I do not want to go now. I know that I do not have what I have left of life, but I have the right to live and enjoy this. Please do not hesitate to help your brother who came to you with a sad and heavy heart. Every dollar will make a difference in my life. Do not leave me to live this pain.

I appreciate what you do for every Palestinian inside and outside Gaza. I pray to God that you do not go through what we are going through, my beloved.

I ask you to extend a helping hand to me in this suffocating financial crisis that I am facing, your help will be like a candle in my darkness. I appeal to you to donate a small amount to help me overcome this financial ordeal, every donation no matter how small will make a big difference.

@aristotels @bixlasagna @bonesashesglass @blackprinter @buttercuparry @briarhips @cagandante-communistoide @crimsaph @crispyartdev @determinate-negation @distillatoria @dontbelasagnax @dlxxv-vetted-donations @deepspaceboytoy @distillatoria @evilreceptionist @ehksidian @e @fr0ge @freeshfries98 @feluka @fromjanna @f3l1c1af0x @greenwingspino @group-oc-tournament @gottfried @garden-of-vegan @hojanaranja @ip2lb @jacksonharries @khanger @kibumkim @lishadra @lightning-in-your-teeth @mangocheesecake @mobileleprechaun @oursapphirestars @omegaversereloaded @phantomofthetacobell-blog @primmsfairytale @paper-mario-wiki @pcktknife @sayruq @soullesscoyote @sanleigh @spacefunclubs @tilltshift

@vakarians-babe @sar-soor @plomegranate @nabulsi @sayruq

@serial-unaliver @2spirit-0spoons @schoolhater @vampiricvenus @tamamita @omegaversereloaded @beetledrink @anneemay @beserkerjewel @appsa @apas-95 @irangp @gaza-evacuation-funds @sabertoothwalrus @sayruq @spongebobssquarepants @officialspec @ot3 @rickybabyboy @paper-mario-wiki @postanagramgenerator @i-am-a-fish @extremelycursedimages @nabulsi @punkitt-is-here @whatcoloristhatcat @opencommunion @nyancrimew

@bluebellsinthedells @palestine @rizzyluke @kordeliiius @self-hating-zionist @thenewgothictwice @raelyn-dreams @unfortunatelyuncreative @licencetokrill @jezebelgoldstone @ramelcandy @petracourtjester

@labutansa @sammywo @autistwizard @tortiefrancis @sparklinpixiedust

@palipunk @palidoodles @el-shab-hussein @communistchilchuck @northgazaupdates @stil-lindigo @queerstudiesnatural

@bluebellsinthedells @palestine @rizzyluke @kordeliiius @self-hating-zionist @thenewgothictwice @raelyn-dreams @unfortunatelyuncreative @licencetokrill @jezebelgoldstone @ramelcandy @petracourtjester

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bokutosbabe · 2 days ago

Note

HIII this is my first time requesting so it's fine if you can't do it! But I'd like a Spotify wrapped event please! My top artist is Mitski and her "My love mine all mine" thank you so much! Hope you have a nice day/afternoon/evening!!!

so glad to be your first ask!!

if your top song was my love mine all mine by mitski, i'd pair you with...

sae itoshi

જ⁀♡⊹｡° shine it down here

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event! - masterlist - **this event is now CLOSED**

♡ content — sae itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, soft sae!!, established relationship, mention of sae feeling unfulfilled

♡ synopsis — sae itoshi didn't know how much he likes nights in with you until tonight

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt rare in Sae’s whirlwind of a life. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting faint silver patterns on the living room walls. You sat cross-legged on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs, flipping through the pages of a book. Sae was beside you, one arm stretched across the back of the couch, his other hand absently twirling a loose thread on your blanket.

It had been weeks since his last game, and even though his calendar was still packed with meetings, sponsorship obligations, and training sessions, tonight, he chose to stay. With you.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence.

Sae’s gaze lifted from the thread in his fingers to your face, his teal eyes unreadable for a moment before softening. “I like this.”

“This?”

He gestured loosely to the space around you both—the blanket you shared, the faint hum of the world outside, the warmth of your presence. “It’s peaceful.”

Your lips curled into a smile. “You sound surprised.”

“I am,” he admitted. “Most things in my life feel like I don't have enough time to appreciate them," the words coming from him made your heart squeeze with...sadness? joy? you weren't sure. "But this, being with you, I feel like I could stay here forever.”

You tilted your head, watching as he leaned back against the couch. His expression was relaxed, but there was something vulnerable in the way his fingers brushed yours, hesitant, like he was afraid you might slip away.

“I don’t think I tell you enough,” he said, voice low, almost hesitant. “How much this—how much you—matter to me.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, rare and carefully chosen. You shifted closer, your knee brushing against his thigh as you placed your hand on his.

“You don’t have to say it all the time,” you replied gently. “I know.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for a moment, the composed, untouchable Sae Itoshi was gone. In his place was someone raw, someone who didn’t always have the right words but wanted to try for you.

“You keep me grounded,” he murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of your hand. “Even when everything else feels like it’s slipping through my fingers.”

The weight of his confession settled between you, a quiet but profound reminder of what you meant to him. Sae might not always know how to show it, but in this moment, under the soft glow of the moonlight, his love for you was undeniable.

SOFT SAE!! SOFT SAE!!

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #blue lock #bllk #airy answers asks :)#bllk x reader #bllk sae #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #bllk sae itoshi

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briarscreek · 3 days ago

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Mediaeval Prisoner!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley had a policy

life at whitegrave began to lull a bit after a few months. a rhythm that you realized that you could handle. of course it hadn’t been without your amazing tutors; including simon.

he was unlike anyone you had ever known. not only had he helped with copious amounts of pleasure (that still makes your knees weak everytime you see him) but he helped you understand confidence. the finality in your tone when a few certain merchants were being unagreeable.

you were discussing reconstruction plans with the iron workers and blacksmiths, knight simon on the edge of your periphery; when a commotion at the door made it burst open.

“countess! lovely to see you again!”

a loud, little bit shrill voice announced in your halls.

“uh- lord graves. i apologize, i have not received word of—“

“the curtains make this place drab, no? the color is highly childish. don’t worry, darling, i’ll help you change it.”

that gave you pause. the color? your favorite color?

“lord graves what are you doing here?”

“i’m here to head the estate. darling, you can’t possible do it all by yourself no? your husband should be running the household.”

you took a breath in your pause, you’re not only confused but now annoyed.

you heard soft footsteps from behind you, simon’s silent reassurance.

“lord graves, this estate was given to me. appointed by the king to me. therefore it will be run by me. i am not currently engaged to anyone and if i was the estate will still be run by me”

you kept your tone calm, despite the fact that your heart was hammering in your chest. merchants and staff were easier to navigate confrontations with but nobility is different altogether.

“which is why i’m here countess, i shall be your husband. no one else would take pity to marry a servant turned noble.”

it was then that your table erupted in whispers. that is unfortunately true. lord graves definitely isn’t the worst prospect. he is a distant cousin of the old died out whitegraves. he actually could help with the estate.

a hand on your shoulder calmed your nerves, knowing whose it belonged to. with a deep breath you realized what simon was saying.

show them what you want. i’ll be right here for you.

“absolutely not.” your voiced roared a little higher than expected but it caused the entire main hall to cease its chatter.

“lord graves; in the few minutes you have barged into my home you have interrupted an official meeting, interrupted my words, sought housing without my notice, insulted my house colors, insulted my intelligence, and have insinuated that you are to be my husband. these are not qualities of an upstanding lord.”

a sneer of anger started to ease onto his face. so he’s not use to someone refusing him? oh how sweet this will be.

“hopefully someone will take pity to marry a nobleman turned arrogant prick.”

the silence of your words held everyone at their stands. what you said was true as an air of understanding started to fall over the main hall. the countess is right. lord graves definitely is overstepping.

“you little—“

“sir riley, please remove lord graves from my estate. unless ordered by the king, please make sure that he never steps foot on my grounds again.”

without a word sir riley as well as other guards along the border of the main hall forcibly removed lord graves and his company from your estate.

“apologies everyone, where were we?”

simon’s lessons yielded a higher result than you initially expected. especially when he praised you for hours that night, cooing at how resilient and determined you were.

<<PREVIOUS

NEXT>>

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #briarscreek #mediaeval prisoner!simon riley #mediaeval simon riley #prisoner simon riley

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spitefully-existing · 2 days ago

Text

the sleep token book is a bit hard to read, i rewrote it the best i could below the cut; hopefully this helps!

⚠️⚠️SPOILERS AHEAD⚠️⚠️

15 days since emergence of the Lunar Anomaly

When I was a child, I was frequently beset by certain reoccurring dreams. this is one such dream that I remembered more than most – one in which I found myself standing on a vast shoreline, gazing out at a flat, wide sea. Slowly, as I watched the horizon gradually begin to lift. Before long I was able to observe that this lifting expanse was approaching me – a wall of smooth, black water that curls into an impossible lip at its peak. rather surprisingly, I do not recall being afraid of such an ominous sight. Well, to be more precise, I was afraid – I was terrified, but not of the wave itself. Instead, it was the thought of what was beyond it. This vast, unstoppable force sweeping forth to herald the end of everything, to drown the world and then eventually sink back into itself. A careless shrug of entropy enough to sever the thread of all fates. I felt that were I to somehow survive this limitless tide then I would be left in the world that would not recognize me. I would become an element unto myself and myself alone.

An echo stuck in the throat of a dead god.

yet here I am. It has been over two weeks since the emergence of the lunar anomaly. our team spent nearly 2 years attempting to anticipate what this event would mean for humanity – analyzing endless reams of lunar topography along with every known form of spectroscopy, all amounting to one hopeless conclusion: to burrow into the bowels of the earth and simply wait that whatever emerge from within would reach us these last.

as it would turn out this one final act of humble surrenders is what one the last of us the right to our own lives in these final days. Those of us alive now are not those who sought to barter with destiny and defiantly cling to a civilized existence of the surface – or even any existence at all.

it would seem that in the week of this phenomenon, we are best served by our most base instincts, whose shame found no place to dwell. The ones who survived are those who spat their hubris and hid desperately down in the mud like rats.

I want it to be known that we made every effort to warn the others, though naturally we could not provide much of a basis upon which to suggest that our entire species with facing imminent and utter demise besides a few fissures of the southern lunar pole. with that said we begun building this underground facility once we realized that the moon’s orbit was rapidly decaying in a way that was inconsistent with any known physical model – I found it hard to believe that none of them followed our lead perhaps some of them did either way we have no way of knowing now.

my expectations for the first surface expedition were bleak at best in all honesty. I was shocked to discover that our initial readings showed that these remained a breathable atmosphere. Perhaps in all this turmoil, I found it easier to commit my mind to the worst possible outcome at every turn.

The limited data we gathered before the event – despite two years of efforts – didn’t prepare us for the havoc we now face. To say that we find ourselves at a loss to explain, the phenomenon would be a gracious understatement. The catechism that occurred two weeks ago had taught us one unshakable rule about this new world we now hid beneath – to gaze upon the moon is to die.

For this reason, we rapidly developed wearable counter measures for the surface teams that would prove vital in allowing them to navigate the surface. If only we could have known that this was far from the only threat that awaited them. To say that we find ourselves at a loss to explain the phenomena would be a gracious understatement.

it is not only human life that is affected by the lunar anomaly, but that of all life, albeit in vastly different ways. To put it simply – this new type of emergent biology is beyond the boundaries of what we are able to study and understand.

I find myself already laden with guilt over those we lost. More than that however, I feel most guilty about the way I reacted to learning of the remnant human elements that attacked our team. I felt strangely comforted, despite the deeply disturbing nature of that discovery.

Upon further introspection, I arrived at the conclusion that this feeling came from a sense of familiarity. Human beings fighting other human beings is a horror that has played us all since time immemorial, but here in the wake of such deeply unfamiliar and unpredictable occurrences, it is hard not to feel almost comforted by such an immediately recognizable problem.

with that said, I do also find myself deeply troubled by the prospect of humans remaining on the surface in that state. The consensus among my colleagues is that their actions were not born of their own will, though there is every chance that this is a conclusion we are clinging to in preference over the more unsettling alternative.

I feel that I am rapidly squandering the precious remnants of human life in the desire to understand what has happened, though in truth, I know not what else to do. Perhaps this is the only way we can cling to our humanity – by continuing our constant battle with the sheer unknown right to the very end.

The Director

28 days since Lunar Anomaly

already I find myself in the surprising position of yearning for the way things were two weeks ago. Two weeks ago, I was contending with the end of the world. Now, I contend with the reality of what has replaced it.

we took the trouble to equip ourselves as thoroughly as possible, with the means of studying any emergent phenomena on the surface, even whilst and tomb beneath the Earth. We now find ourselves consumed by the pursuit of understanding – it is truly all that we have left. However, the samples we’ve acquired offer no such mercy – their nature and origin is fundamentally foreign to us. Something we can say is that, contrary to the initial assumption that most life on the surface had been wiped out, there is in fact in abundance of some kind of new organic material. It can be found everywhere in some form, including in the atmosphere itself. Its cellular structure is completely unique – where one would expect to see some approximation of a typical eukaryotic cell, what we see instead resembles membranous tubules that contain vast quantities of foreign organelles. These organelles seem to function in an oddly synchronous fashion and are able to perform a variety of functions. Primarily, they are able to ‘grow’ the tubules that contain them by undergoing a form of transformation at either end which renders them as part of the tubule wall. secondly, and far more strangely, they are able to exert some kind of force over the tubule as a whole, contorting it in a way not dissimilar to muscle tissue, (but without any apparent nervous impulse.)

as to the origin of this tissue, our initial assumption was that it had been somehow transferred from the moon itself to earth – perhaps via pieces of lunar material falling through the atmosphere. This makes some sense, however, the sheer proliferation of this material across the surface within a relatively short period of time suggest that there is more to it than that.

I am reluctant to comment on the reports of other worldly beings on the surface. Their presence carries implications I am simply unprepared for. At a certain point, however, I must accept that this only increases the inevitable danger placed upon the surface teams during their expeditions. What I must also accept is that these precious human lives are now the only currency with which we can barter against the unknown.

Thus far we barter in vain.

The Director

58 days since the lunar anomaly

when we first retreated down into the ground, I think that somewhere in the midst of my despair, I clung to a degree of hope. This wasn’t so much a hope for survival as much as the hope that we would at least be able to discern some kind of meaningful understanding of what has happened. we have committed everything – I have committed everything. The last precious remnant of humanity extinguished in the name of what makes us human to begin with. To shed what light we have left on the sea of the unknown. But now I see that this was a futile effort that has resulted in nothing but death, not merely in the context of our final struggle, but across the scope of all human existence. It has all amounted to nothing but a few extra skulls drifting in the foul ether that has swamped our world.

It is clear now that the lunar anomaly functions in accordance with laws of its own. It makes a mockery of science. It permeates and distort reality to the degree that all fundamental assumptions are rendered useless. it kills everything it touches while simultaneously imbuing it with some kind of new life, twisting nature into something grotesque and unrecognizable. These new forms seem organic, but they have nothing resembling a typical cell structure or genetic blueprint. They can bring forth in an instant, summoning flesh from nothing. Furthermore, our ability to measure even the most fundamental aspects of our physical world is becoming impossible. The massive objects change slightly, depending on where they are, as though gravity itself, has begun to lose its grip. We have detected seismic activity from further inside the Earth than we even thought possible. The anomaly doesn’t just want to consume all life. It wants to consume reality.

as for those beings, I know not what they are were where they originated. They themselves are not consistent with the nature of the anomaly they inhabit. Their actions seem to exhibit some strange sentence, but their motives are unclear, and they make no effort to communicate. At times I have concluded that they are here to replace us, or perhaps, even that they themselves represent some fractured distillation of our nature. they are after all violent, just as we have been to the very end. They seem to push against one another as a part of some strange order. As time has passed, though, I have come to believe that they have no connection to us. I believe that what our world has become is a little more than an arena to them – a crucible of existence where they will battle eternally. The totality of their being is not their individual functions, but rather the conflict between them. We are merely spectators to their endless dance of ceaseless struggle. this is perhaps the only thing that connects them to the drowned memory of what humanity once was – that we too saw meaning through constant friction and unending movement, compelled by some core motive force that drives us to bring ourselves to bear on the world and manifest our own perceptions.

in these final dimming days, I know only the solace of a promised end. I have become the ultimate witness. I have been saddled with the heavy blessing of seeing the unraveling of everything and I can do nothing but wait for it to unravel me too. But I live still within this temple of untampered flesh, and I will spend what blood still beats through it to barter one last time with the fangled threads of fate. if I must, I will march through the eye of death and meet it with eyes of my own.

What few of us are left now have our orders.

We must know what it is to become of us.

The Director

61 days since the lunar anomaly

I once spoke but now it seems through me just as I speak through it no longer to nothing I can change nothing no can change nothing nothing has become my thing I can make nothing into a weapon there will be no void left unfilled I am human and humans are always human and always scared because being human makes us scared and being scared makes us human I will crack the flesh I will crack the earth I will eat the pieces they will be pieces of me would you like to dance I have always been dancing we must keep dancing even when we are just tendrils we were always tendrils we could touch everything even things god did not want us to touch that is why he left us here that is why he thought we were ugly he could not wrap his tendrils around every part of us we spilled his paradise over the earth and danced with such a beautiful dance horror would leap and dance with us who would bathe us and we could lie within it we could tear the horror out from our hearts over and over we could never sleep sleep is death not even the earth would sleep the earth fears death it’s blood would freeze out in space out in nothing we must reach through the stars through the darkness even though it is so cold it can freeze our blood we can let our blood freeze and then crack it open hot like the earth we can step through death wear it like a crown hairs to the highest pantheon of life precious life with death as its blood precious death bursting from the many wombs of sacred war paradise was empty without us there was only silence but our blood made the flowers grow god spilled his blood over paradise god knows the stars are waiting fertile ground cold to the touch those stars are hungry they crave only the blood of god we are his tendrils and we will bury ourselves into those cold stars and there will be no darkness death will give us fear and fear will give us blood we will spill our hot blood across the stars I finally understand now I do I understand but will you let me keep my human fear will you let me yes being scared makes you human fear will sow the hot blood of god across the gold stars fear will make us dance and we must keep dancing can you see god dancing for you can you see him biting into you can you hear his teeth cracking into pieces of the stars they sent sparks raining down through the darkness all these years you have hunted him and reached for him you want his blood he made you with veins inside you like tendrils we dance through his veins as we bite through the stars and dance and he opens his mouth wide I am so scared Will you let me be the last human I understand now I am the teeth of god I am the teeth of god I am the teeth of god I am the teeth of god I am the teeth of god I am the teeth of god I am the teeth of god

#iii sleep token #iv sleep token #sleep token #sleep token band #sleep token lore #sleep token vessel #sleep token iii #sleep token worship #vessel sleep token #teeth of god graphic novel #teeth of god spoilers

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